by Laurie Loft
At last, Todd could point himself toward his soul’s magnetic north. Vivian loved him, and the swelling of Todd’s heart threatened to impede his breath. Vivian, against whom Todd could never win an argument. Vivian, who was so vulnerable and yet had an innate strength with which Todd could never quite come to grips. Vivian, who always, always, tasted of tea. Longings on which Todd had kept a firm lid sprang free and careened about inside his head, knocking him dizzy. Every capillary swelled with memories: Vivian’s pale, blue-white skin, marred by scars. Viv’s alarmingly countable ribs. The long, lean muscles of his legs. Viv’s lip ring cold against Todd’s mouth. Vivian’s voice sighing his name or crying it aloud in passion.
A car horn’s blast jerked Todd out of his reverie, and he realized he’d been drifting into the next lane. The gods would have their laugh, would they not, were Todd to be killed or maimed now, just when his life was about to resume? Taking hold of the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip, he fixed his mind on the immediate tasks ahead. He had to go home. Tell Lloyd he was leaving. Say good-bye to his nephews. Throw some things in a pack. Gas up the truck.
Sebby had been a sport about the whole thing, but was he really all right? Todd shook himself. Sebby would be fine. And Todd never should have left New York, never should have met Sebby in the first place. It had never been meant to be. Vivian needed him. Sebastián did not.
Sebby hugged himself and watched until the truck was out of sight before going in and leaning back against his closed, locked door. Turning, he pushed the curtain aside and rested his forehead against the cool glass, looking out at nothing, just looking, but not really looking at all. He wandered into the kitchen. Cooking was not worth the effort, but he was hungry, so he pulled a flour tortilla from the refrigerator and stood over the sink, tearing it, stuffing the bits into his mouth, and chewing mechanically. It was half gone when he shoved the rest down the garbage disposal. The liquor cabinet called to him, but, no, tomorrow was the fourteenth, paychecks had to go out on the fifteenth, and he couldn’t be sick tomorrow. He made coffee instead. While it steeped, he grabbed a grocery sack out of a drawer, went into the bath, and plucked all of Todd’s things from the sink, from the shelves, and dropped them into the sack, tied the handles into a granny knot, and hid the sack under the sink.
Sitting cross-legged on the sofa, he turned on the television. Sipped coffee. Turned the television off. Lay down. The song he’d quoted to Todd ribboned through his mind: “I miss your laughing looks, I miss your playful way, I miss each magical brilliant word you say. And I know how . . . I know how . . .”
“Damn it, Todd,” he mumbled, and pulled out his phone.
He texted Lawrence. Todd left. He went back to HIM.
Nooooo, came the response, and then they called. With a sigh, he answered.
“Nooo,” Lawrence cried. “Oh, Sebby.”
“And we were so good to him!” Barry said.
Pushing breath through his lungs to speak seemed almost more than Sebby could manage. “It’s not your fault.”
“Shitty, shitty, shit, Sebby. Come over. We’ll ditch our date,” Lawrence offered.
Sebby considered, and sighed. “I don’t want to fuck up your evening. And. I don’t know. I’m so tired.”
“That’s not tired; that’s depression,” Barry said.
“You shouldn’t be alone. We’ll come over there,” Lawrence said.
“We just have to ditch our date,” Barry repeated.
“Or . . . we could bring him,” Lawrence said thoughtfully.
Why not? At least . . . it’d be something to take my mind off . . . “Kay. Why not.”
There were squeals and a longish pause, and then Barry’s breathless voice saying that their date had agreed.
“It’ll be just like old times!” Lawrence said.
“We’ll cheer you right up,” Barry promised.
“You’ll like this ma-han! We call him ‘Hugh.’”
“For Hugh Jackman,” Barry whispered.
“He sort of looks like him. If you squint.”
Sebby, who had been feeling like he might never smile again, laughed. “Ay caramba. You’d better not be squibbing or I’ll drop you on your pointy ass, yes?”
“I have a pointy ass?” Lawrence cried in horror.
Barry laughed.
There was a knock on the door—a sort of timid knock, like the person outside wasn’t completely sure he wanted anyone to answer. Sebby froze. “Dios mío, Todd’s back!” Exclamations of wonder, of disbelief emitted from the dropped phone as Sebby sprinted for the door. Maybe he had only come back because he forgot something, but maybe . . . He threw the locks and yanked open the door, but where he had expected to see Todd’s sheepish expression was instead a broad chest clad in a tight, black T-shirt. Sebby’s neck cranked upwards as his eyes moved up to light on Collin’s face—that smooth baby face that had so taken Sebby in. Sebby stepped back, swinging the door shut, but Collin had already shouldered his way in; before Sebby could turn to flee, Collin’s fist closed over his forearm. His arm spasmed with remembered pain. Sebby wished he believed in God so that he could pray for help, but God had never helped when he had believed. Sebby stared up into Collin’s anguished eyes, and his mind raced. He could talk himself out of this.
“What the hell? This kid calls you, and you take off, just like that?” Lloyd’s arms were folded, his face stretched in annoyance.
Donna spoke reproachfully. “How can you abandon that darling boy?”
Todd endeavored to sound rational, like a man who had made a reasoned decision. “Vivian is a darling boy too. You never had the chance to meet him, but if you had, you would understand.”
“I understand you have something good and you’re giving up on it.”
Todd fidgeted. His foot itched to be tromping down on the gas pedal, but duty demanded that he sit in this kitchen while his brother and sister-in-law gave him the third degree. “Some things are not meant to be.”
Lloyd snorted. “Bullshit. This kid messed you up, and you’re going back for more; it’s masochism.” He held up his hands. “Look. I’m not gonna tell you how to live your life. You wanna go back to New York, go. All I’m saying is, sleep on it.”
“It’s dangerous to drive through the night,” Donna said. “Imagine if you got in an accident! What if you were in the hospital for weeks, or paralyzed, or killed?”
She had a point, Todd had to concede. He was rather giddy. A night’s sleep might help sober him. Not that he expected to be able to sleep a wink.
“You know,” Lloyd said, “you could fly. There’s direct flights from Denver to New York. You could leave later and be there sooner. You’ve got some money socked away, don’t you?”
Out came the laptop. Todd was persuaded, and a seat on an 11 a.m. flight was purchased online; Donna agreed to drive him to the airport. “I still don’t see how you can abandon Sebby like this.”
“I’m not ‘abandoning’ him,” Todd said, hooking quote marks in the air. “It’s called breaking up. Sebby understands. He knew all along that this might happen, that I was still in love with Vivian. He even said, and I quote, ‘If it doesn’t work out, come back to me. I would welcome you back. I—’” The look on Donna’s face stopped him cold.
“Find your own ride to the airport. Maybe you can get Sebby to drive you.” She slammed the laptop shut and flounced from the room. Lloyd and Todd looked at each other.
“Nice bit of insurance, there.” Lloyd leaned back in his chair and folded his arms again.
“Meaning?”
“Do what you want.”
Todd flushed. “This is quite unfair to Vivian. Naturally, you’re all in Sebby’s corner.”
“Look. I don’t care. Do what you want.”
“Will you cease giving me the evil eye, then?”
Lloyd rolled his eyes, evil and all. “I’m not giving you any damn evil eye. You’re imagining it.”
“You mean to say that my guilty conscience is causing m
e to imagine the condemnations of others.”
”I mean to say that you’re so full of shit you better make a trip to the shithouse pronto, before you unload in your boxers.” Lloyd stood and stretched, rolling his shoulders. “But I can’t drive you tomorrow. Take a cab or drive and park.” He left the room.
“At the age of twenty-three, I am capable of getting myself to the airport,” Todd called after Lloyd. He sighed, rubbed his forehead, and wandered from the kitchen into Ryan’s bedroom.
“You’re leaving,” Ryan said.
“I’ll be back,” Todd promised in his best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice.
“You’re going to see that Vivian?”
The dubious tone was more than Todd could take. “Are you against me too?”
“No. I’m for you. But I thought . . .”
“What. What?” With an effort, Todd gentled his voice as he tumbled, fully dressed, into bed. “What did you think?” Ryan was silent, and Todd, rather put out, said, “You don’t even like Sebby!”
There was a long enough silence that Todd thought Ryan had given up and gone to sleep, but at last the boy’s voice came out of the dark. “Did Sebby break your heart?”
“Oh.” Todd’s impatience evaporated. “Oh, Ryan. No. Some things, Ryan my lad, are simply not meant to be.”
“Uh-huh.” The bed creaked as Ryan rolled over. “But some things are?”
“Indeed.”
“How do you know which is which?”
“You feel it in your heart. You know it in your soul.” Todd pressed his hand to his chest.
“Uh-huh. Like I know in my soul that I’m never gonna be in love.”
“Exactly,” Todd agreed, keeping his voice solemn even as he grinned.
“Uh-huh. But, Uncle Todd?”
“Right here.”
“Sebby, um, does he care? That you’re going?”
Biting his lip, Todd considered. “I can’t say that he doesn’t care.”
“I hope it broke his heart.”
“Ryan!” Todd sat bolt upright, nearly whacking his head. “What a cruel thing to say!”
“He deserves it, and I’m glad you dumped him.”
“It—” It wasn’t a dump, Todd wanted to say, but of course it had been. Was Sebby all right? It had been an easy breakup: no tears, no hysterics. Clearly, their relationship had been on the wane. They’d squabbled and gotten on one another’s nerves. They hadn’t even been true to one another. Still, perhaps he should call . . . His arm reached toward Ryan’s dresser where his cell phone lay, but his hand closed into a fist. What could he say? I just wanted to see if you’re okay since I dumped you. He brought his fist to his mouth and chewed on a knuckle. Let it be a clean break. It’s self-serving to call him now. “Ryan, I hope his heart is well. Having suffered a broken heart myself, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, least of all on someone about whom I care deeply.”
“‘Deeply’?” Ryan made gagging noises.
“Yes, deeply.” There was no reply, and the even sounds of breathing soon indicated that his nephew slept.
Though Todd expected to lie wakeful, he dropped off and fell into a nightmare in which he arrived at the airport and was pulled aside by an oily-haired security official who had found a gun in Todd’s carry-on.
“That’s not mine! I’ve no idea how that got there!” Todd protested.
“How can you abandon that darling boy?” the security official demanded, with disgusted looks at the gun and at Todd.
“It’s Vivian!” Todd explained. “My soul mate!”
The official took hold of Todd’s wrist, his grip making Todd’s bones grind, and propelled him away. “Wait in this line.” And he left Todd at the end of a queue of exhausted people and luggage, a line that stretched endlessly down the dim terminal.
“I’ll miss my flight!” Todd shouted, but the official strode away.
An overwhelming sense of relief woke Todd. His arm was bent beneath him, senseless as a block of wood. He sat up, his limb hanging like a dead thing. A burning anxiety began to chew through his gut.
Dreams are bullshit, Todd told himself, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. Kneading his dead arm with his other hand, he considered. It was merely the subconscious expressing anxiety over getting to the airport on time. There was no relief like waking from a nightmare to find it was only a dream.
But I was relieved in the dream, not when I awoke! His arm prickled. The discomfort was enough to make him squirm. He rolled out of the bunk and pumped his arm in the air, grimacing. I was relieved to miss my flight? What the fuck? Fucking hell, I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave. Oh, fucking fuck.
Todd shuffled out of Ryan’s room, through the silent house, and into the front yard. The grass was thick, soft, and cold under his bare feet. The night sky arched over him, and the late-summer breeze soothed his overheated body, lifted his hair. With no idea of where to go, he climbed into his truck and started it, and the voice of some pop vocalist floated into the air—Barry had turned it to a “lite” station the other night.
If I could plant you in my garden like a tree
Maybe then you’d have to stay with me
Was he afraid to see Vivian again, afraid that things between them could never be as they had been? He knew he feared that very thing, but that was not why his guts were clenching and burning. Leaning against the headrest, he turned his eyes to look out at the night through the truck’s open window. Ryan’s words, spoken with such relish, came back to him: “I hope it broke his heart.” The thought of Sebby curled up in a trembling, weeping ball of woe made him cringe. True, Sebby had cheated on him, but hadn’t Todd implied it was acceptable by agreeing to sleep with Sebby’s friends? Sebby had literally raised Todd up from the dirt, brushed him off, offered him coffee (coffered me, Todd thought), brought him back to life.
“I don’t want to leave,” he said aloud, “but it’s Vivian!” Vivian needed him, and Sebby had said that Todd could come back, and he would, when it was over, he would come back.
“Ah, God.” Todd’s heart fell dead. If he had a heart. If the thing in his breast deserved to be termed one. “Nice bit of insurance, there,” Lloyd had said, and Todd saw now what he meant.
Deep down, Todd expected no lasting relationship with Vivian: a few months of rapture, after which he would again be a broken man, but he could haul his wounded carcass back to Sebastián, who would once more pick him up and set him right. “What a fool I’ve been.”
And the radio answered him in a seductive tenor.
If I could wear you like a tattoo under my sleeve,
maybe then you’d finally believe
That I know how. I know how.
I can’t remember why you can’t forget,
But, baby, don’t run out on me yet.
The voice was so intimate that the singer could have been right in the cab of the truck. “He was quoting me a song!” Todd murmured in wonder, and he listened till the voice ran out:
Steal me a moment,
sing me a rhyme,
live with me, laugh with me,
partner in crime.
Steal me a moment,
sing me a rhyme,
live with me, laugh with me,
partner in crime.
I miss your laughing looks, I miss your playful way,
I miss each magical brilliant word you say.
And I know how,
I know how.
Remember me, forget me, it’s all the same.
Maybe in your dreams you’ll hear my name.
And I know how.
I know how.
I can’t remember why you can’t forget,
but baby, don’t run out on me yet.
Steal me a moment,
sing me a rhyme,
live with me, laugh with me,
partner in crime.
The words struck him so, Todd gripped the steering wheel as if to bend it in half. Wonder and excitement filled him with the forgotten real
ization that life was, above all, a grand adventure, and that one never knew what may come barreling at one from around the next corner—a grand adventure, but how infinitely better an undertaking if one’s hand were clasped the while by someone whom one loved and who loved one back.
Todd’s hand went to his pocket, but his cell phone was resting on Ryan’s dresser. He could just drive to Sebby’s house, but . . . no, he’d given Sebby back his key; Todd would have to pound on the door to awaken him, and that would frighten the bejeezus out of him.
He trotted back into the house and used the kitchen phone, hoping against hope that Sebby might be awake, might answer, but was unsurprised to receive his voice mail.
“Sebby, I’m not going to New York. I’m staying. Please, please call me the instant you hear this.” He left much the same message on Sebby’s landline, and then fidgeted and paced the kitchen for a bit.
On his way back to bed, he paused, filled with chilly misgivings. Oh, God, what could he say to Vivian? Vivian, he knew, was likely to be awake, even at this hour. Oh, how he wanted to procrastinate. Maybe Viv wouldn’t answer, and he could just leave a voice mail, dump-by-phone. God, he was a coward. He decided to wait. Part of him was relieved to put it off, but mostly he felt that it was kinder to let Viv down by the light of day than in the cold predawn hours.
After checking his phone to be certain the ringer was on, he texted Sebby for good measure and then crawled back into bed, not bothering to undress. He dropped into a deep and dreamless sleep until the morning alarm sounded. Almost before he was awake, he reached for his phone. No texts, no missed calls. Please call me, he texted. He began to worry; Sebby was always up by this time. Was he angry?
Donna was delighted at the news, hugged him, and volunteered to get his ticket refunded. Lloyd rolled his eyes and left for work. Todd texted Sebby’s cell and called his landline several more times, concluding that he must have spent the night at someone’s house, perhaps Leo’s. A pang struck him at the thought. At any rate, he’d see him at work. It was almost payday, and nothing short of a nuclear blast would keep Sebby from making payroll on time.