A More Perfect Union

by J. Scott Coatsworth

  “Damn. I never get anyone handing me their number anymore.”

  Alex stuck out his tongue.

  “You should call her.”

  Alex hesitated. “I don’t know. I’m not sure what she could do for me.”

  “Never know until you give it a try.” He shook out the comforter, brightly colored Day of the Dead print, and let it settle down over the mattress.

  “You’re probably right.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and called the number on his cell.

  After about five rings, she picked up. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Rosalind? This is Alex. Alex Gutierrez.”

  “Alex?”

  “From the hospital. Gio’s partner.”

  “Oh, Alex! Where are you? Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m at a friend’s house. How’s Gio?”

  “He’s the same. Your mother-in-law is going to her hotel.”

  He was quiet for a moment.

  “You still there?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I just wish I could get back in there to see him.”

  “About that. I have an idea. Can you come over now?”

  “Sure. I can be there in ten minutes. Thanks so much for this, Rosalind. You have no idea how much this means to me.” He hung up and kissed a surprised Oscar on the cheek. “The coast is clear. My new favorite nurse is going to get me in to see Gio while la mamma is at her hotel.” He grabbed his notes, his keys, and his wallet.

  “You still have my key?” Oscar asked as Alex sped out the door.

  “Yup. Thanks again! Sorry to eat and run!”

  “Just don’t wake me up when you come home.”

  The front door closed behind Alex, and he hopped in his car and sped out of the driveway. It was after 10:00 p.m., so he tried to keep it quiet, but his tires might have squealed. Just a little.

  He made great time down Speedway and hung a hard left at Campbell, and in less time than he’d planned, he was at the hospital.

  The parking garage was quiet at this hour, and he found a spot on the ground level. He got out of the car. An ambulance sped by outside, shattering the silence for a moment. Streetlights pooled their brightness, leaving patches of darkness that the waxing moon tried to fill.

  Soon he was in the hospital lobby, lit by harsh fluorescents. He texted Rosalind.

  Five minutes, she texted back.

  He waited off to the side of the lobby, counting off the time impatiently. Despite her assurances, he needed to see for himself that Gio was okay.

  Eventually Rosalind appeared and dragged Alex off down a hallway. “His mother gave orders that you’re not to see him, but I have friends on the night shift, and I saw how you two were together. If it were my wife….”

  He nodded. “Thank you.”

  She took him up a back stairwell, and they reached Gio’s room virtually unseen. Slipping inside with him, she made sure the blinds were closed.

  “You have until 5:00 a.m.,” she said. “The shift changes between five thirty and six, and you need to be out by then. It’s about eleven now.”

  “I understand.”

  “If they find you here and trace it back to me, I could get fired. So set your alarm, or whatever you need to do. And talk to him. He may not show it, but he can hear you.”

  Alex swallowed hard. “Okay, gotcha. Rosalind?”

  “What?”

  He hugged her.

  “Well, okay, then,” she said, a little nonplussed. “I’m going home, but Chelsea will be the shift nurse tonight. She knows the score. She will be in later to check the dressings on his shins. I’ll be off tomorrow night, but you can come in the same way I showed you, after ten. Now go be with him.”

  She slipped back out of the room, and Alex turned to see Gio lying there peacefully. He sat down next to his partner, taking Gio’s hand in his, grateful that they could be together again.

  If only for a little while.

  GIO LAY still in the darkness. He was terrified, curled up in a fetal position, praying the howling things would go away and leave him alone. Their claws scratched the ground as they circled around him, and he could feel the swish of their passage and smell their hot breath and fetid odor as they breathed on his neck.

  They were demons.

  Soon enough one of them would end this little game and devour him whole.

  Then he realized that he hadn’t actually heard any of them howl for a while. In fact, now that he put his head up a little, he couldn’t hear them or smell them anymore.

  It was silent. A shocking silence after all the howls and grunts and growls.

  He sat up. It was growing warmer, brighter. He had survived the darkness.

  His hand felt warm again.

  Alex. Alex was with him.

  He wasn’t sure how he knew it. He just did, and it made all the difference.

  “TALK TO him.” That was what the nurse had said.

  Alex cast about for something to say to Gio. Something that might help him find his way back from wherever he was. His eyes fell on the notepad he’d brought, the list he’d scribbled down of things they had lost in the fire. He picked it up off the other chair with his free hand and flipped through it, looking for something.

  “I don’t know if you can hear me in there, Gio, but the nurse said you would. She told me to talk to you, so I’m talking.”

  Kitchen. Bathroom. Bedroom. “I’m making a list for the insurance company of the things that we lost.” His voice caught a little. “The things the fire destroyed. Oscar told me that we lost everything, Gio… so many things are gone.” Then he saw it. “Do you remember Devin, the little stuffed Wildcat we used to keep on the bed with us ever since I won him for you at the county fair? He was so cute….”

  THE UNIFORM whiteness that surrounded Gio began to shift, taking form. He stood up as the floor beneath him became dark gray, hardening into pavement broken by myriad cracks and craters. The white sky above darkened too, becoming a vault of stars. Around him a row of forms arose slowly out of the ether, becoming carnival booths and stalls. There were smells too—greasy hot dogs, cloyingly sweet cotton candy, and the delicious aroma of Indian fry bread. Suddenly there were people, so many people, walking past, laughing and shouting.

  “Come on,” Alex said, pulling his hand.

  Gio looked down. He was no longer naked but was wearing tight jeans and a black T-shirt. He followed Alex through the crowd, his heart thrilling at the sight of him and of so many things!

  They stopped in front of one of those milk-bottle booths, the kind where you have to toss a ring over the bottle to get a prize.

  “I’m going to win you that one.” Alex pointed at a giant teddy bear almost as big as he was.

  “You’re crazy. Where am I gonna put that?”

  They’d been dating for seven months, and they were now both living in Gio’s crappy little apartment.

  Alex grinned. “Where’s your sense of romance? Five, please.”

  He handed a five-dollar bill over to the carnival huckster, who pocketed it in his apron and handed Alex fifteen rings.

  “Good luck. You’re gonna need to land ten of those for that big guy.”

  “Wish me luck,” Alex said, planting a kiss on Gio’s cheek.

  “Hey, not in public.” Gio glanced around to see if anyone had noticed.

  “Chicken.” Alex tossed his first ring, and it landed right on one of the bottles. “Score!”

  Gio grinned in spite of himself.

  Two and three went wide of the mark, but four was another score. So were five and six. But seven missed, falling short by a foot.

  By the fourteenth ring, he was nine and five, with just one to go.

  Gio leaned forward, eager to see his lover make the final shot. Even if it did mean he was taking home a five-foot-tall teddy bear.

  Alex leaned forward as far as he was allowed, moved to throw once, twice, and on the third move he let go of the bright red ring. It flew through the air, perfectly parallel to the ground, an
d settled down on one of the milk bottles… around, around, around the neck… before slipping off and falling to the ground with a clatter.

  “Porco cane!” Gio shouted.

  Alex turned to him, a puppy-dog look of sadness on his face. “Well, I came close. You said he was too big anyhow.”

  “Here you go.” The man behind the booth handed Alex a much smaller prize.

  Alex’s smile returned, and he handed the stuffed animal to Gio. “Let’s name him Devin. For our grandfathers, Desi and Alvin.” Devin was a little Arizona Wildcat—the U of A’s mascot.

  “He’s perfect,” Gio said, “and he’ll fit in the apartment.”

  Alex kissed him again.

  The memory and Alex melted away, but Gio held on to the little stuffed animal. Somehow his clothing stayed with him too.

  It was a small memory. He sensed that he had lost so many more, and in the ocean of his mind, this one was a single grain of sand.

  But it was something.

  ALEX WASN’T sure, but when he finished telling Gio about the night at the county fair, he thought that Gio’s lips twitched upward just a little.

  Alex sat with him for the rest of the night. He followed Rosalind’s advice, setting an alarm on his phone for 5:00 a.m., and after Chelsea, the night-shift nurse, came in one last time at 3:00 a.m., he crawled onto the bed and very carefully snuggled against Gio to catch a couple of hours of sleep.

  At five in the morning, Alex packed up his things, kissed Gio on the cheek, and left the room before the morning shift or Gio’s mother could discover him there.

  Chapter Three

  Monday, September 14

  ALEX WOKE in a strange bed, looking around wildly for a moment before remembering where he was.

  The room was decorated with Día de los Muertos memorabilia—Oscar was a big Day of the Dead fan. There were little statuettes of skeletons getting married, riding bikes, surfing, and eating at little cafés.

  On the walls were framed posters of sugar skulls, and dolled-up skulls of women at the park stared down at him. Even the comforter sported a Day of the Dead theme. It was a little creepy.

  His thoughts turned almost immediately to Gio. He looked at the clock next to the bed. It was almost three, so he had another seven hours before he could see his partner again.

  He showered, shaved, and dressed, and put in a call to his insurance rep to ask if she could recommend a lawyer. He might need one eventually if he couldn’t work this mess out with Gio’s mother.

  Then he sat down on the bed with a sigh, as the full weight of what had happened finally hit him. Everything he knew, all that he had become in the last ten years was suddenly thrown into question. Their home was gone, a pile of ash and wreckage, along with pretty much everything he and Gio had owned. Alex’s work, the other thing that defined him, was on hold indefinitely. He was banned from being with his soul mate, except in the wee hours of the night.

  If they were married, he would have had the right to be with Gio, no matter what Cinzia said. A couple of years before, he’d effectively slammed the door on the idea of getting married.

  It was his fault.

  Alex pulled his Jetta into the driveway. He’d just had a big sale fall through when the sellers got cold feet. It had been a shitstorm of a day because his assistant had quit the day before, his car had stalled out on the freeway, and just about everything else he could think of had gone wrong too.

  He entered the house and threw his jacket up on the coatrack.

  “Is that you, bello?” Gio called from the kitchen.

  “Yup, I’m home. Gonna go take a shower before dinner.”

  Gio appeared in the doorway, his red-checkered apron covered in flour and pasta sauce. “I made my mother’s specialty. Nidi di rondine.”

  “That sounds delicious.” Gio knew that it was one of Alex’s favorite Italian dishes. Alex frowned. “Gio, what did you do?”

  “Niente, amore,” Gio said, laughing. “Go shower. Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes.”

  Alex took a quick shower, but the warm water ran out halfway through. Then he banged his toe on the foot of the antique bathtub. It had been one of those days. “Fuck!” He hopped around for a minute while the pain gradually subsided, then managed to get dressed and limp out to the dining room.

  The room was lit with candles, the flickering light lending the yellow walls a romantic Tuscan feel. Gio was just coming out of the kitchen with dinner—skinny strips of pasta curled around in circles like little bird nests, smothered in a red pomodoro sauce.

  They sat down together, and Gio served him a little nido, or nest. He poured them each a glass of red wine.

  Alex took a bite of his pasta. He spat it out. “Crap, that’s hot. I think I burned my tongue.” He took a long gulp of the wine to try to cool his mouth. “What’s this all about? You never make this for me unless you’re trying to apologize for something.”

  Gio looked hurt. “It’s not about anything.” He wouldn’t look Alex in the eyes.

  Alex put down his fork. “Hey, I’m sorry. Look, I had a lousy day. Everything went wrong. Damien quit. I lost a big sale. Come on. Tell me. What is it?”

  Gio looked up at him cautiously. “It’s just….”

  Alex waited for him to finish. When he didn’t, Alex asked, “Just what?”

  “I thought we could talk about getting married. We’ve been together for almost eight years. Lots of other couples are doing it.”

  Alex frowned. “We’re not other couples. You know how I feel about it.”

  Gio stood, pushing back his chair noisily and throwing down his napkin. “I knew you’d say that. Cazzo, you’re such a hypocrite, pretending you’re opposed to marriage because it’s some sort of heterosexual institution that gays shouldn’t subscribe to.”

  “It is.”

  Gio’s eyes flashed. “Not anymore. Look around you, Alex. Everyone we know is getting married. Dax and Mario, Shira and Cheryl. They’re not scared of it.”

  “Lesbians aren’t scared of anything,” Alex pointed out, trying desperately to lighten the mood.

  Crap, I’ve stepped in it now.

  “They’re not scared of commitment.” With that, Gio left the house, slamming the door behind him.

  He was gone for a couple of hours, while Alex waited and tried to figure out what he’d done wrong.

  When Gio came back later that evening, they dropped the matter.

  Alex had had his chance to marry Gio, and he’d blown it. Because, God help him, he had been scared. Scared to lose even more of himself. Scared to say, finally and irrevocably, “This is the best I can do.”

  Now he saw it clearly in retrospect. Gio was the best he could do. Why had he ever thought otherwise? Gio was the best, and Alex had been a fool not to take that next step when Gio offered.

  Alex needed to go back to where it had happened. He needed to see it for himself, even if the house was nothing more than ash.

  It was time to go home.

  ALEX LOCKED the door to Oscar’s place and glanced up at the sky. The thunderclouds were moving visibly overhead. It looked like it might rain a little later, but he judged he had a couple of hours. The day itself was warm, with the sun peeking through the clouds at intervals.

  He climbed into the car and eased out onto the road. His heart was suddenly heavy in his chest—an actual sensation of weight beneath his rib cage. He wasn’t sure he was ready for this.

  They’d bought the house together five years before, after Gio had finished his graduate studies. They’d been desperate for more space. It wasn’t huge, but compared to Gio’s apartment, it was a palace.

  The neighborhood wasn’t great—it had been a barrio when they moved in. But more importantly, they’d been able to afford it, and it was close to Tucson’s small downtown, where Alex had just gotten a job as a real estate agent, and it was not far from the university.

  Over time the neighbors had come to accept them and even rely on them. They had keys
to half the houses on the block, to water plants or feed pets or generally take care of things when folks were away.

  They had been in the vanguard. New young couples, straight and gay, were moving into the neighborhood every couple of months then. Starbucks was reportedly eyeing a spot just down the street and around the corner, a sure sign the place had achieved hipster status.

  They had built a life together there. And now it was gone.

  Alex felt like an orphan.

  He drove through downtown, wondering if and when Tucson would ever truly grow up. He loved the city, but its downtown had remained basically unchanged for decades. The new light rail system was a good start, but it was still a pilot project that didn’t really go anywhere.

  He turned off Simpson onto Elias Avenue, and his heart broke.

  The little one-story bungalow they had called home together, halfway down the block, was nothing but charred stucco walls. The structure still stood, but its roof was gone, and even after the heavy rain, the smell of ash hung heavily in the air.

  He pulled the car up in front of the house and got out, staring at the sight without truly understanding what he was seeing. The palo verde tree in the front yard was singed but looked like it would probably live, and the saguaro had been spared too.

  “Alex!” someone called from across the street.

  He turned to see Marta, one of his oldest neighbors, approaching. In a big floral dress, she hobbled across the street to give him a grande hug. “Mijo, how are you? How’s Gio?”

  He hugged her back. The tightness gripping his chest eased, just a little. “He’s okay. I mean, he’s alive—he’s in a coma, but the doctor thinks he’ll come out of it soon.”

  She nodded. “Ay, dios mio. I’m sure he will.” She glanced over at the ruins, frowning. “I am so sorry about the house. It was such a beautiful home.”

  “Thanks, Marta. It’s my first time back since the fire….” His voice caught a little as he glanced at the ruins.