Cemetery Drive

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Cemetery Drive Page 7

by Lucian Clark


  Over dinner that night, between mouthfuls of waffles, eggs, bacon, and some tortilla soup, we talked about how we would decorate that apartment we were considering. Jack wanted to repaint the walls to a robin’s egg blue. I wanted to just hang pictures and posters up. We bickered, Jack waving his fork at me to the point a piece of waffle went flying and landed squarely in my lap. I jokingly dared him to eat it off and he obliged, crawling under the table. Our dinner remained unfinished. Left out to go cold.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Three weeks down, with one to go. It was a kind of melancholy breakfast as I got ready for work, realizing that we would be counting down the days until Gideon came back again. The loud buzzing from my phone broke me out of my gloom. “Have a gr8 day :) XoXoX” read the text from Jack. I smiled and then sighed, my happiness quickly dissipating. How long after Gideon came back would we have to wait to move, to finalize the divorce? Jack said he had been looking into lawyers while I was at work, even going as far as calling a few who of them and getting quotes. Gideon would pay for it all, of course. Jack had a clear-cut case of domestic abuse and Gideon had all the money anyway.

  Jack wasn’t allowed access to the accounts, taxes, anything. Jack was lucky he could open his own mail in what was supposed to be his own house. As far as Gideon knew, he controlled everything in Jack’s life. Jack spoke of Gideon and his control with a casual ease now, as if it was all already in the past. An ex who was just an asshole as opposed to an abusive husband whose presence still loomed over every aspect of his life.

  He was going to have to go back to that, but finally he had a way out. That thought comforted us and according to Jack, gave him strength for what was yet to come. I still worried. Gideon was an unknown factor, a loose cannon who could turn violent at any second. Another buzz. “Cant w8 2 see u” the second text read. We had plans to go to the aquarium and I had taken a half-day to ensure that we could beat the crowds.

  I finished my work that day in three hours, leaving one agonizing hour before leaving and picking up Jack from my – no, our – apartment. Never did I pick Jack up from his own house, one habit that started out of necessity and continued out of caution. I ended up leaving an extra half an hour early in order to make a pit stop. Jack and I had only one week left together before everything would be set in motion again. Right now, we were in a weird kind of stasis where we could be with each other, but still not entirely. I wanted to show him that this wasn’t going to be over once Gideon came back. I wanted to show that I would be there through the divorce, no matter how rough it got.

  A green emerald – Jack’s birth stone – caught the light and glittered. Something simple, just a diamond-cut emerald on a white gold band. Gideon had all the money in the world, Gideon could get Jack anything he wanted and yet somehow didn’t bother. Sure, there were things here and there, but always after a fight as a way to apologize for the black eyes, bruises, and broken teeth. Bile rose in my throat and I wondered if it was the same color as the emerald or as black as it tasted. I pocketed the ring, planning to give it to Jack before we left the aquarium that afternoon, before dinner. A small gift that hopefully would show how serious I was about all of this. A promise.

  When I came home, running slightly late due to an accident, I found Jack rousing from a nap on the couch in one of my old ratty t-shirts. He rubbed his eyes, looking up to the cat clock that lazily swung above the TV.

  “You’re late.” He grunted, throwing his legs over the top of the couch and sitting on the back of it to stare at me through half-lidded eyes. Every time he did this, my heart stopped as I waited for him to flip the couch. It never happened due to Jack’s size, but it got me every time.

  “Sorry, there was an accident.” I called after Jack as he slunk off to the bathroom. “We have to leave in 30 minutes. Will that be enough time?” Jack took an ungodly amount of time to get ready, often doing and redoing his hair and make-up several times. I had to fight back my annoyance at the fact he hadn’t even started his routine yet. He did this every time and yet, it still got to me.

  “Better hope it is.” Jack called from the bathroom, the now familiar noises of Jack’s make-up clattering on the bathroom counter. My groaned response went unheard. I followed after him and he idly chatted about my work day as he got ready. Watching him do his make-up, wipe it off, and try again was always something of a show for me. I always thought it looked fine, but Jack never agreed. Too thick or uneven that time, not enough another. Even his hair which would never stay up was a process. As the minutes ticked by and I began to get antsy, I swore Jack went slower.

  Luckily, it was just enough time. Almost. We arrived to the aquarium five minutes later than our tickets were for. Jack was frantic, pulling me both excitedly and nervously to the door. He acted as if we were the first people to ever be late. The desk clerk didn’t even check the times as they scanned the tickets, too busy looking at the group of third graders who were noisily clambering off a bus behind us. A never-ending parade that grew in volume as the group grew in size. Jack and I hurried inside, hoping to beat the sea of children who would likely destroy any peace.

  Jack pressed his face to every glass he could trying to see every fish in every enclosure. He eagerly read each information panel and took photos with his phone. He was not unlike the most enthusiastic third graders who caught up to us and at one point sharing an animated conversation with a young girl about clown fish and Finding Nemo. After that, the third graders bypassed us, skipping a lot of the more complex exhibits such as the shark walk. I don’t think Jack really wanted to walk over the hot, humid salt water tank, but he did it anyway for the sake of doing everything.

  “Can we stay to watch the penguin feeding?” Jack pleaded while hanging off my arm. According to the sign, we had arrived about an hour and a half early. Looking at the map, we only had maybe about twenty minutes left of things to see. Forty to an hour if we continued at Jack’s pace.

  “Jack, I don’t-” The puppy dog eyes. Always with the puppy dog eyes. I groaned and shook my head. “Fine. Fine.” I conceded and laughed, pulling Jack in for a hug. I could find something to do on my phone if I somehow grew tired of watching Jack flit between exhibits like a hummingbird with just as much energy.

  “Oh! Let’s go pet the stingrays!” Jack began pulling me in the direction of the fancy kiddy pool where visitors could annoy the animals. Jack’s eyes were practically sparkling with excitement. The area was created to look like a mock beach, the little pool raised up enough to not be too high for anyone old enough to touch the lazily swimming creatures. I watched as they glided through the water playfully dodging around some guests’ fingers while splashing others. At least they seemed to be enjoying the attention.

  “It splashed me!” Jack whined, sounding offended that the stingray had splashed some of the mock-ocean water on him.

  “It happens. Just pet it.” I dipped my fingers into the water, gently pressing against the spongy yet somewhat soft fin, flap, or whatever it was. Same as the instructor was showing to everyone who walked up to the pool. They felt like a pool noodle mixed with wet velvet. Out of the corner of my eye I watched Jack.

  He gripped the edges of the tank to until the veins in his hands were bulging and strained. His eyes became distant as he watched the rays swim around their enclosure. Every time there was a splashing noise Jack’s eyes darted to the offending ray. There was an awe in that gaze, a dreamy quality, as he watched the rays glide in slow circles. They showed personality and Jack’s eyes moved from each one as they reacted to each visitor. He was absolutely enthralled by them.

  “They look like angels.” The words were almost a whisper as Jack reached his hand into the water. His lip curled as the warm water touched his skin. The salt probably burned his chewed husks that he called fingernails. A habit that got worse as the month began to come to an end. One of the rays swam up but dived quickly out of Jack’s reach. That curled lip turned into a pout. How adorable he looked as he stood there
, trying to reach the rays just out of touch. I pulled my phone from my pocket, wanting to take a few candid shots. Jack looked…happy. Sure, he wasn’t smiling, but his body was relaxed. He was focused on something happening, not gazing into the distance. He was present. Everything was normal.

  The fingers on my free hand played with the ring in my pocket. This would be a perfect time to give it to Jack. The perfect moment to show and tell Jack how serious I was about everything. Our future. Our plans. I squeezed it in my palm, feeling the stone bite into my flesh as I tried to steel my queasy stomach. Jack had no idea that it was coming and he would be absolutely floored. Not a proposal, but it would definitely look like one minus me dropping to one knee. Maybe I-

  A loud splash broke the moment caused by Jack violently yanking his hand back. My phone fumbled in my hand, but I caught it before it almost comically tumbled into the water. The stingrays didn’t seem bothered by the sudden movement as they were probably used to children coming up and splashing all day. They continued to lazily swim in circles, their habit unbroken. Jack on the other hand was walking away, cradling his hand like it had been bitten.

  “Where are you going?” I called after him. I moved through the families that Jack could somehow navigate. He slipped through them like a trained assassin or thief, his slight frame making it easier. He didn’t acknowledge me and continued on. I started to lose him, occasionally calling his name. People were staring. My skin was crawling with their gaze but I didn’t care. I needed to get to Jack. I had to find out what happened. Did he get bit by one despite what the instructor said? Was he trying to find somewhere to pout about how they didn’t like him? The idea brought a small smile to my face. And yet, there was a sick feeling pulling at my insides.

  When I finally caught up to him he stood in the middle of one of the large round entrance rooms that connected the whole building. Each offshoot led to a different section of the aquarium with a surrounding ring with the center being where we were. Light from the ceiling illuminated him and people moved around him, casting suspicious sideways glances. Couples hurried past and parents pushed their children by with hushed whispers. I grabbed his arm and spun him around, panting. His eyes were distant and wide, staring through me. I knew that look.

  “Judah,” he whispered. “Judah, he’s here.” Jack’s fingers dug into my shoulders. Really digging into me until it hurt. His hands were still damp from the stingray pool.

  “Who?” The words slipped out before I realized what Jack was saying.

  The fear in Jack’s eyes, no, the absolute terror reflected in his pale face confirmed everything I needed to know. Gideon was here. I feel simultaneously heavy and like I was about to drift away. Every nerve in my body turned to ice. The queasiness from earlier returned, but with an acrid taste at the back of my throat.

  We had been so careful. Jack had checked in frequently with Gideon through email and the occasional video call. Jack checked his itinerary every day too, just in case Gideon decided to come back early and surprise him. We had been so careful. So fucking careful. And yet, apparently, here he was. Gideon fucking Bellview. A whole week early. Surprise, surprise. This meant only one thing, one awful thing. Gideon knew.

  IX.

  Time slowed to a crawl as Gideon walked over to Jack and I. His massive hands were shoved into his pockets, but you could see the bulge of his fists against his black dress pants. Each step in those impeccable dress shoes clicked on the aquarium tile and echoed into infinity in my head. Reality came crashing down in loud, glass-shattering waves. Gideon was here. He knew. How?

  “Judah.” Gideon stood in front of me, looking down. His size blocked out the sun coming down from the skylight above, dimming it and bringing the weight of his oppressive shadow. “What a coincidence to see you two here.” Gideon smiled. There was no friendliness or warmth in that smile. I half expected a snake’s forked tongue to flick out between his teeth. “I thought you were out doing some shopping, Jack.” His tone remained even and without emotion as he turned towards his husband. Every word said deliberately and drawn out like a parent catching a toddler in a lie. The exact same way he had spoken to Jack the night I had met him at the bar.

  “I-I-…” Jack stammered, eyes locked with Gideon. His body trembled and he withdrew, moving to step behind me and then thinking better of it. His breathing came in rapid bursts and his eyes wide. He looked like a mouse cornered by a snake in a terrarium. Those big dark eyes filled with an all-knowing fear of what comes next. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide.

  “Not here, Gideon. It’s not what you think.” I kept my tone flat yet commanding. Gideon couldn’t know the way my guts were twisting up inside due to how terrified I was. I couldn’t let him think he was in control of the situation.

  “Please, like the first time you fucked I didn’t know.” Gideon snarled. His lips curled and he flashed his teeth. “I’m not an idiot. I’ve known, for awhile now.” Venom on every word. He broke eye contact with Jack and turned that piercing gaze back to me. How could he have known, especially on that night? My confusion must have been spread across my face as he laughed, a deep echoing sound that made my head hurt.

  “You really think I would just drop Jack off?” His grin looked predatory gleaming in the light. “I was in the parking lot across the street. I watched you pick him up.”

  “But…” I had no answer to this. How could we have been so stupid? So foolish? How did that not cross our minds? How did Jack not notice Gideon’s car? The world began to spin, lights gaining all too bright halos.

  “Let’s take this outside. Please. Not here. Gideon, Sweety, please.” Words tumbled and spilled from Jack’s lips. His trembling fingers grabbed onto the cuff of Gideon’s shirt. When had he moved to over there? Gideon snarled, violently ripping his sleeve from Jack’s grasp. Fire danced in Gideon’s eyes as he inspected the damage to his shirt. Jack took two steps back and looked around him. The aquarium was starting to empty out at this point. Both school children and couples alike had left. Those who remained were quickly shuffling into other parts of the building. Parents pushed children by, grabbing them by their arms and dragging them if they had to. No employees were visible either. In a matter of moments, only the three of us stood in that center hall.

  “You…you’re home early.” Jack stammered. What was he trying to do? Was he not paying attention to what his husband was saying?

  Gideon held up his hand and Jack bit his lip to silence himself. “Please. I’ll talk to you later about you and your schemes.” Gideon said coldly. Acid bubbled in the back of my throat, burning in my nostrils.

  “Then why now? Huh?” I spat, unable to hide my anger. I could feel the fire in my chest, threatening to burn its way up just as the acid already was. My hands were going numb. I stepped forward, clenching and unclenching my fists. My shirt suddenly felt too tight and my breathing too heavy and loud. Gideon eyed me, not sizing me up but with contempt. My skin crawled. “Why make a public spectacle?” I asked, hoping to keep some control over the situation.

  “He was planning on trying to leave.” Gideon snarled. “This charade has gone on long enough. I figured it was time to end it early. Before it got too serious.” Gideon even hissed the word serious.

  Despite being on a few inches off of Gideon, I felt so small standing in that empty room before him. He towered over me with his heavy brows furrowed in white hot anger. “It was cute at first, Jack thinking he could play house with someone else for a bit, but this is over now.” Gideon’s demeanor was stern and controlled. Under the surface, I could see the anger threatening to bubble over at any second – a hair trigger waiting for a reason to be pulled.

  “And not to mention, Judah,” the way he said my name made me want to vomit. “A married man, really?” Gideon snorted and shook his head. “How low can you go?” He clicked his tongue against his teeth to scold me. He looked back at Jack, who was slowly backing away, trying to use this confrontation as a means to escape. “And you,” Gideon continued, c
ausing Jack to freeze in place. “Imagine what your family would say about a divorce! And adultery to boot!” Gideon laughed. A sound that was so full of itself. So sure it had said the most harmful thing possible.

  “You really think Jack cares about what his family thinks?” My nostrils flared as my nails dug into the palms of my hands. Gideon knew nothing about Jack despite their long history. He really did think of him as just an object to be dragged and tossed around as he willed.

  “Of course! Imagine the papers, the stories about what a little whore-”

  Seeing red is literal sometimes. Hitting someone in the face hurts. The dull sound of flesh on flesh rang through the room, causing Jack to gasp in surprise. Getting hit in the face by an ex-college football player hurts more. Apparently being more than a few years removed didn’t change that fact. Gideon’s fist connected and the crunch that followed was either Gideon’s hand or my cheekbone. My glasses were knocked from my face and skittered across the floor.

  The next several minutes were a blur of fists, both of us wrestling each other to the ground and hitting where ever we could. Chest, face, back, a hit even connected with my hip letting me know that Gideon was probably aiming for my junk. While previous sounds had seem to echo, the dull thuds of our fists and our grunts of pain and frustration seemed to exist in a vacuum. They rang hollow and empty, either due to my focus on the fight or the several punches to my head and face. The only thing that seemed to break free was the sharp sound of clothing ripping. And Jack’s screaming.

 

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