Never Rest

by Marshall Thornton

  I rushed out of the ward, through the reception area and up the stairs. I got to the landing and had to stop. I hadn’t moved this quickly in years. I huffed and puffed, looking at the resurrected Jesus as I caught my breath. Even in stained glass, you could tell he was Anglo-Jesus. Almost blond. Blue eyes. Very white skin today. The look on his face was pity, He was sorry for those he’d left on earth, sorry for the living.

  Pushing on to the second floor, I began to shout Dr. Harry’s name. I knew where his office wasn’t. It wasn’t to my right, because that was the Ray’s room with the scanner, and it wasn’t either of the two doors just to my left I’d been in—

  He came out of the door farthest from the stairs on the left. Almost directly above my bed. He’d heard me yelling.

  “It’s Edmond. He’s dying.”

  He started to rush by me. I grabbed at his arm. “Wait. Don’t you have to get Property Five?”

  “I can’t. It would be unethical.”

  “What? No, you’re going to give everyone Property Five. Just give it to Edmond now. You told—” He seemed to recoil from me, and that’s when I knew he’d lied. That he’d lied to Dr. Callabray and, because I’d been eavesdropping, lied to me. “Edmond will die.”

  “Let me at least see if I can help him.” He ran away from me and down the stairs.

  Why was it unethical to give Edmond Property Five when it had been ethical to give it to me? He was dying. Right that minute he was dying. What was ethical about letting him die?

  I hurried after Dr. Harry, down the stairs and into the ward. My parents were pressed together at the foot of my bed. Nurse Kelly and Dr. Harry were standing around Edmond’s bed. They weren’t doing a thing. Just standing. Looking at him. He was very still. His eyes open. Flat. Dead. He was gone.

  I slipped up behind Dr. Harry and asked, “Can you still give it to him?”

  “There’s nothing we can do. He’s gone.”

  “But there is—”

  “Be quiet, Jake.” His voice was hard-edged and sharp. He stared at me with such power, I actually wondered what he might do to me.

  He’d done the wrong thing. That’s what Dr. Harry thought. He’d done the wrong thing giving me Property Five. Did that mean I was just like his other failed experiments? That he was going to hide me, chop me into little pieces? No, he couldn’t do that. I was still here, alive or sort of alive. Alive-ish.

  And wasn’t that better than being actually, really dead?

  FORTY-TWO

  It came as a complete surprise to me that it was Labor Day weekend. After Edmond died, while he lay there under a sheet and we all kind of wondered what exactly we were supposed to do while a dead man was in the room, I asked my parents what time they were leaving.

  “We’re not leaving until tomorrow, dear,” my mom said.

  “What?”

  “It’s a holiday weekend.”

  “Oh. And you’re spending it all here?”

  “Amelia took the twins to her parents for the weekend, and Kevin and Kourtney are with their father.” My dad said, explaining why the steplings and halflings could do without him for three whole days. My mom didn’t have to explain anything. I was it for her.

  “Are you all right, Jake?” she asked for about the sixth time in an hour.

  I wasn’t, but if I said I wasn’t, I’d have to explain. My mom thought explanations solved everything. I didn’t agree. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

  “The way you ran out of the ward, Jake, that’s the first time I really believed you were getting better,” my dad said.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Bobby. I’ve been telling you he’s better for weeks.”

  “I’m sorry. I should have believed you.” He looked at me intently and asked, “Jake, what were you saying to Dr. Harry? You wanted him to give that boy something?”

  “Oh, I don’t think you heard right,” my mom interrupted. “He just wanted the doctor to do something to save the poor boy. That’s what we all wanted.”

  I looked at her, but she wouldn’t look back at me. It seemed like she didn’t want my dad asking questions about Property Five. I wondered how much she knew about what it actually—

  “Is there something Dr. Harry could have done that he didn’t do?” my dad asked, ignoring what my mom had said.

  “No. I was wrong. I thought there was, but I was wrong.”

  “Exactly what kind of drug did he give you, Jake?”

  “Bobby, he’s upset. You need to leave him alone. We watched a boy die.” She kept her voice low, as though Edmond might hear us.

  We were silent for a bit. The best thing families could be sometimes was silent. Outside, it was a lovely fall day, temperate and bright. The prettiness of the day seemed to clash with Edmond’s death. How could people die on a lovely afternoon? Death was darkness, night, stormy days with thunder. No one should die beneath a bright blue, cloudless sky.

  Looking out the window, I watched as a black panel van pulled to a stop in front of the Institute. On the side, in gold lettering, it said HEARTWELL MORTUARY. There was a contradiction in terms. If your heart was well you certainly didn’t need a mortuary. I wondered if they got more business by naming themselves what they obviously were not.

  A few minutes later, an older, fussy guy in a gray suit walked into the ward. Behind him a kid, who had the same reptilian look Ray had, pushed a gurney. They set about moving Edmond from the bed to the gurney.

  “Don’t you usually need to call the police when someone dies?” my dad whispered.

  “Not if someone dies in the hospital,” my mom explained.

  “You said this wasn’t a hospital. You said it’s a research—”

  “Medical facility, then. Really Bobby, I think everyone here knows what they’re doing.” That was a funny thing for her to say. I mean, a lot of the people at The Godwin Institute didn’t seem to know what they were doing at all. And she knew that. Then she said, “His poor parents.”

  “Yeah,” my dad said. They looked at each other for a moment. Clearly, it could have been me being rolled out of the Institute on a gurney. Then, to try and turn the mood—obviously—my dad said, “I think we should ask Dr. Harry if we can take Jake on a field trip. Into town for lunch. Or just an ice cream.”

  “Oh, they have wonderful ice cream up here. I had some. Jake you’ll love it. Sweet vanilla with tart cherries.”

  No way was I going on a field trip with them. For one thing, my heart might stop, and I needed to be near Dr. Harry and the defibrillator—which sounds like some kind of perverted children’s book if you ask me—plus, if all they could think of to do was go someplace and eat, that was going to be a drag. I mean, they’d probably notice if I ordered lunch and then barely ate any of it. And if they noticed, they wouldn’t leave me alone about it.

  “I’m fine here. But you guys go if you want.”

  My dad looked at me funny. “Jake, we’re here to spend time with you. It’s the whole point.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I had to throw them a bone. “The lake is right across the street. Maybe we can walk out there.”

  “And have a picnic!” my mom immediately added.

  I was doomed.

  FORTY-THREE

  Sex, as it turns out, is not like porn. Not that I’ve seen a lot of porn, I mean my mom did go to work every day and leave me alone for years, so I have seen some, but the whole I’m-a-dying-teenager was also a natural boner killer—as was the fact that I had to constantly erase my browser history. Anyway, sex with Goth wasn’t anything like porn. It was like air. Like being able to breathe for the first time in a long time. I wondered how I’d ever lived without it.

  Both my parents had a much better appetite than I did and eventually they left to have dinner. My dinner came. Fried rice. Everyone had Chinese food that night. The nice thing about it was that I could move it around on my plate and no one could really be sure how little I actually ate.

  After dinner, Goth took off his cannula and climbed into b
ed with me. He had his portable DVD and flipped on an old black and white Hitchcock movie about a happy family that doesn’t stay that way. We didn’t really watch the movie, though.

  “Can I have your fortune cookie?” Goth asked as the opening credits rolled. I gave it to him, and he ate it quickly then read the little strip of paper that had been inside, “Your future is so bright you have to wear sunglasses.” He giggled.

  Then a few moments later he said, “Sucks about Edmond.”

  “It does.”

  “I mean, it’s not like we knew him very well, but, man, dying like that.”

  He stared at the DVD player without looking at it. I thought I saw tears welling in his eyes.

  “Totally sucks.” I said. Eloquent, I know.

  “I heard what you said to Dr. Harry. You’re mad at him for not giving Edmond the treatment.”

  “No. I mean, kind of. I get that it’s a study, and you have to follow certain rules. But he was dying. He did die.”

  “Does it work that fast, though? I mean, you just give it to someone, and they’re instantly cured?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Then he should have given it to Edmond. I don’t understand why he wouldn’t.”

  “Dr. Harry’s not big on explaining his reasons for why he does shit, is he?”

  “No, he’s not.”

  I felt bad about not telling Goth the truth, but I wasn’t exactly sure whether it was a good idea or a bad one. We watched the movie for a minute. There were some jokes in it about using the telephone. They acted like it was a relatively recent invention. Goth whispered into my ear, “It should be tonight.”

  “What should be tonight?”

  “You and me. Us. The end of the virgins. I mean, who knows what’s going to happen next, right? We may never have another chance.”

  “Aren’t you sick?”

  “I’ll be less sick over here.”

  “You want to do it here? What about Miss Haggerty?”

  “At midnight, she takes a serious, snoring nap. It lasts about two hours.” He leaned forward on his bed and whispered. I hadn’t put two and two together. Of course, she took a nap every night. She was stealing morphine. It wasn’t likely to keep her awake. “That’s when we could do it. Set your alarm.”

  I went to the clock app on my iPad and set the alarm to vibrate at twelve-thirty. Now we just had to wait six hours. Six long hours.

  “What if she wakes up?” She probably wouldn’t but still.

  “She won’t. And even if she does, we just need to be quiet enough that she doesn’t turn around.”

  “So you’ve really never done this before? You’re pretty good at it.”

  “Natural affinity. I was homeschooled, so the only time I ever saw anyone was at church and the pickings were slim. You really a virgin? Or have you just been stringing me along?”

  “Trust me. You’re going to find out I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  That made him laugh.

  Dinner came. That night they brought Goth a mini-pizza. I tried to be jealous while I worked my way up through half a can of chicken soup and a few bites of rice pudding. Then we watched one of the three movies I had on my iPad, the really gruesome one that no one ever admits to watching, about piranhas eating sexy coeds. I don’t even want to say the name it’s so embarrassing.

  Anyway, about halfway through, right after the part where the annoying TV reporter stands in the lake to report on the dead coeds and doesn’t even notice when his feet are put on the piranha lunch program, Goth said, “Hey, you got your wish.”

  “What wish?”

  “You wanted to lose your virginity after a romantic dinner and a movie.”

  I remembered we talked about sex and romance when we first met. I was pretty sure he was the one who’d mentioned dinner and a movie. But it didn’t matter. He was right. This was my wish. This was how I wanted things to be. Or at least it was as close as we could come given our current circumstances.

  “Yeah, you’re right. This is romantic.” I nuzzled him and kissed his neck. I didn’t dare do much more since Miss Haggerty, who’d started work right after dinner, could turn around and watch us if she felt like it. Her naptime still a couple hours away.

  We finished the movie a few minutes before lights out at ten. Of course, I couldn’t fall asleep, and from the rustling coming from Goth’s bed, he couldn’t either. Two and a half hours when you’re waiting for something you really want feels as long as three weeks, maybe four. A month. It felt like I waited a month for my alarm to go off. Miss Haggerty had been asleep for about twenty minutes—I’d been stealing peeks at my iPad under the blanket, keeping track of time’s crawl. I wanted to jump the gun and crawl into Goth’s bed the second I saw Miss Haggerty’s head tip forward onto her chest, but I waited because I didn’t want her waking up. Goth might not be worried about it, but I was.

  I turned the alarm off before it had time to vibrate, my heart beating hard in my chest. A good sign for me. I hoped it wouldn’t stop while we were “doing it.” That sometimes happened to people, mostly old guys on top of really young women. Of course, if it did happen to me, I wouldn’t actually have to stop having sex.

  I quietly got out of bed and crept across the few feet between our beds. I climbed in with Goth. He seemed to be wide awake, too. He slipped his arms around me and whispered into my ear. “Hey, bae. You sleep? I didn’t.”

  I shook my head and kissed him. His lips, his scalding lips. And his mouth like an oven. Every time I kissed him, it was as though he was breathing life into me. I wondered if kissing Goth might be better for me than anything Dr. Harry could invent. Could Goth bring me back to life, real life, with just his kisses? I wished it could happen, but I knew it couldn’t.

  We stopped kissing and unbuttoned each other’s pajama tops. He pulled me close so that we were skin to skin. He was warm and soft, like slipping into a bath. I worried about what he might be feeling, though. “I’m not too cold, am I?”

  “No. I like it.”

  A moment later, we were wiggling out of our pajama bottoms. Luckily, at that particular moment, my blood was flowing pretty well, and I didn’t have to be embarrassed by anything, you know, not happening. The rest of me, though. Man. There were red, peeling spots on my chest from being shocked and cuts on my feet from walking barefoot outside. I smelled. And in the right light, I looked green.

  Yeah, I was sex on a stick.

  “How can you want to have sex with me?” I asked. “I’m coming apart.”

  “How can you want to have sex with me? I’m dying.”

  “But you’re beautiful.”

  “And so are you.”

  He took me into his hand and put my hand on him. We rubbed each other while we kissed. His hands were nearly as hot as his lips. Part of me wanted to do nothing but lay back and feel his warmth, while another part wanted to run my cool hands over him like a mountain stream.

  What we were doing wasn’t all that different from what we’d done to ourselves when we were alone, and it wasn’t going to be enough for either of us. Goth pulled the blanket over his head and wiggled down, licking my belly as he went.

  When he reached his destination, it felt so good I groaned. Then I was instantly terrified I’d been too loud. Goth must have worried about it, too, since he stopped. We listened, but Miss Haggerty didn’t come storming into the ward to see what was happening. After a moment, Goth began to move again, taking me to a gasping, shivering place.

  A moment later, he crawled back up the bed and lay next to me. His breath came in short, thin pants. He pulled me on top of him, and in a breathy whisper said, “I’m sorry. You’re going to have to do most of the work.”

  I nodded and began to move down his belly, but he stopped me. “No. I want you inside me.”

  “Really?”

  “There’s some lotion in the nightstand.”

  I leaned over and opened the drawer. Inside was a small tube of hand lotion. I felt around for something
else, but all I found was the lotion. “Don’t we need, you know, protection?”

  “Seriously? We’re both virgins. And even if you’re lying to me and you aren’t, well…it would be a luxury to live long enough to die of something else.”

  “I don’t want to think about that.”

  “Then don’t. I’m right here. And I want you. Think about that.”

  I kept my eyes on him as I got us ready. When I was about to enter him, he said, “Keep your eyes on mine. Look into my heart.”

  And that’s what I did. Inside, he was even warmer than he was outside and I couldn’t help but feel I was making love to fire. That we were fire and ice. Except neither would give an inch. I couldn’t smother him any more than he could melt me. We were fixed. Permanent.

  His eyes were dark, earthen brown, expressive. Every push, every thrust was reflected in his eyes. At first I saw tension, even pain, but then it gave way to pleasure, lust, connection, love. And I felt it, felt his love. It wasn’t like I’d never been loved before. My parents loved me. My mother loved me to the point of insanity. But this was different. My parents would have loved whatever child they had. Goth loved me because I was me. I wasn’t sure anyone ever would again.

  He clung to me.

  “This is okay?” I asked.

  “You’re better at this than you thought you’d be.”

  I kissed him in response, then in a spasm that felt like a dam breaking, flooding, releasing, I came. And Goth a moment later. We stopped, shivering when we pulled apart as though separating chilled us both.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  “I know. I saw it in your eyes. I love you, too.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Thank you? That’s so weird, why are you thanking me?”

  “Bucket list. I didn’t want to die without saying ‘I love you’ to the right guy.”

  I couldn’t help thinking that I’d had to die in order to find someone to love. I didn’t say it, though. It didn’t seem the right time to talk about being dead. Not to mention, I didn’t feel dead. Not when I was with Goth.