The Curse of Flight

by R. G. Hendrickson

  Sunlight streamed stronger through the window. It outlined Josh’s wavy hair, wide shoulders, and the slope to the hips, which turned as Josh faced him. “I’ve got to go. Nice place. Great view.”

  Behind that diamond shape, beyond a downtown skyline and the valley’s end, fresh winter snow covered the mountains. Steve’s legs chilled. He threw on sweats from the floor.

  Josh disappeared through the bedroom door.

  Steve jumped up and followed him down the hall toward the foyer, not far, which sometimes was a good thing, but this time not. “I want your number.” He passed the last frame on the wall, Brokeback Mountain, and looked for him in the living room.

  Josh picked up his jacket from the couch and headed to leave.

  Steve flinched at the thought of losing him. He put himself between Josh and the door. Yes, he went there, shouldn’t have but did it anyway. “Hey, what’s the matter?”

  Josh put on the coat and stepped up to him. “Nothing.”

  “Can I have your number? Want mine?” A pause. Silence, the sound of regret.

  “No. I have to get going.” Josh nudged forward.

  “So, what’s the matter?” Steve parked himself.

  “Nothing, I’m late.” Josh reached around him for the doorknob.

  Steve didn’t want to be a jerk and block the way, but that was what he did until his eye caught a magic marker on the credenza by the door. Business cards were too easy to lose. The thing in that movie, now was his chance. He always wanted to do it. “No kiss goodbye?”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Josh wasn’t happy.

  This couldn’t be happening, not after last night. It wasn’t a dream. Steve extended his right hand. “Shake then?”

  Josh’s warm fingers brushed his palm. Instead of shaking with the right, Steve took Josh’s hand with the left. Shouldn’t have but did it anyway. Awkward, he grabbed the marker with his right, pulled off the cap with his teeth, and wrote his number on Josh’s palm. “Call me.”

  Josh stared at the ink and rubbed it. “I need to leave. Here, give me that.”

  Steve was going to offer it, but Josh grabbed the pen right out of his hand.

  “Give me.” Josh grabbed his hand too.

  Happy to oblige, Steve turned his palm up. Josh bent it out of view. Cold ink wet Steve’s skin. Excitement rolled down his spine. Josh let go, but the tingle remained with Steve. He would see Josh again.

  Now he could step away from the door. Josh opened it, walked out, and threw the marker on the credenza behind him. Steve’s eyes didn’t let go until Josh disappeared in the elevator.

  Steve leaned against the door and savored the thrill Josh left with him. He clutched the number tight in his hand. So pumped, like that time in high school, when he first kissed a boy, and it lit him up for a week.

  Time came to see the treasure he held. Fingers unfolded. Palm opened. Then the light in him went out. No numbers, Josh wrote words instead, seven letters. I said no. Fist closed to crush it and pounded the wall. A long time ago, he lost track of that boy who kissed him in his sophomore year, but he would never forget him.

  Chapter 3

  Josh signed the register at the front desk and wrote 4 P.M. He walked down the musty corridor to his uncle’s room. On the way, he said hello to a resident in a wheelchair along the wall. Her chin nodded and hand lifted. Same as last week and the times before, a smile graced her wrinkled face. “Alfonso’s nephew,” she said. The florescent lights flickered.

  At his uncle’s door, he knocked and turned the knob. “Are you awake?” It didn’t matter. Alfonso would want to be woken.

  “Who is it?” His uncle asked.

  Josh cracked the door. “Me.”

  “Come in. Come in.” The old man stared at the ceiling.

  Josh sat in the hard chair by the bed. “How are you?”

  “Old, very old.” Eyes looked away.

  “You say that every time.” Josh had heard it too often.

  “And every time, I still am, and you still ask.” Alfonso’s face was blank.

  “I won’t ask then, next time.” What was Josh supposed to say?

  Alfonso lifted his head ever so slightly from the pillow and stared him right in the eye. “That’s very inconsiderate.”

  “Okay, I’ll ask.” At least he’d gotten the old man’s attention.

  Alfonso’s head dropped back on the pillow. “The truth is this: nothing works anymore, and everything hurts, except the mind, where I still fly on the trapeze.”

  From the place where old worlds dwell, an image flashed in Josh’s imagination. His uncle flew. “You were the best, a real artist.”

  “I know. I still am.” Alfonso closed his eyes.

  No doubt, he was flying. Josh sat with him quietly for a minute. Then the old man snored.

  An attendant walked in the room. “Oh, excuse me. I didn’t know you were here. It’s time for his pill.”

  “It’s okay. He’s sleeping.”

  The attendant, a young woman, put a little paper cup on the counter next to the bed and looked in a file on the wall. “Are you his proxy? It says here he doesn’t have a form on file. We should have gotten one.”

  “What’s that?” He’d helped his uncle with the paperwork at check-in. There was so much. He couldn’t imagine having missed anything.

  “Someone to make medical decisions for him if he can’t, it gives permission.” She handed him a form from the file.

  He looked it over. “I guess I am.” He was paying part of the bill if that made a difference. “I’ll ask him.”

  She filled his uncle’s sippy cup with water from a bottle. “Mr. Dalenzo, wake up.” She hovered over him and nudged his bony shoulder until he opened his eyes. “It’s time for your pill.”

  “Are you an angel?”

  “No, Mr. Dalenzo, it’s me, Christina.”

  “I thought you were an angel. Why are you here?”

  “It’s time for your pill. Now sit up, so you can swallow.”

  She pushed a button on the bed, and the head rose. The pill dropped from the little cup to his lips, now always slightly agape, and Christina helped him lift the tumbler of water to his mouth, where he took a sip and swallowed.

  “Very good, Mr. Dalenzo. Now I’ll leave you with your company.” She left the room.

  “It was an angel.” His uncle gestured toward the door.

  “She gave me this form.” Josh took a pen from the table and wrote in his name. “Sign it and give it back to her.”

  His uncle took it from him and glanced at it. “I don’t trust them.”

  “Then, sign it or don’t.” Josh hated paperwork and wasn’t about to argue about it. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” He had to be sure.

  “Ask then.” The old man set aside the form.

  “Is the curse real?” Josh rubbed his scalp, fingers through thick hair.

  “Yes, of course it is. Why do you ask?” His uncle scowled.

  “Sometimes, someday, I think I would like to get married. What can one say about the curse to explain it? How would anyone understand?”

  His uncle reached with his good arm and patted Josh’s knee. “One tells it as it is. I told your Aunt Beatrice; God rest her soul. Before we married, she understood.”

  “She didn’t mind?”

  “Hmm, perhaps at first, when we were young, now that you mention it.”

  “And you never called the curse on you?” Josh’s fingers pulled at his hair.

  “I still live, so I suppose not. Your brother did. He fell, you know. That’s why you never knew him. When it happened, your mother was too old to have another child, but you surprised her. Did you know that?”

  “Yes, they told me. Uncle, were you ever intimate with Aunt Beatrice on a day you flew?”

  “I think not, but perhaps. There are many things I don’t remember. Your cousin fell too you know. My only son, the curse killed him.”

  “I wish I’d talked to my f
ather about these things.” Josh looked down. “I miss him.”

  The old man sighed. “I miss him too. From Palermo to Marrakech, Cairo and Istanbul to Marseille, we came to Quebec and then to this desert. You’re the last, Josué, the last of the Great Dalenzos, except for me. I’m still here, in a manner of speaking, but you are the last. Think of us sometimes when you’re up there. Will you? But not too much, you know we must keep our focus.”

  “I know. I will.”

  “You’re wise to want to marry. It’s good you can. Don’t worry about the curse. In the end, all that matters in one’s life is love. Next time you come, bring the old ring.”

  Chapter 4

  Steve flipped through profile pictures on his phone. Some were shirtless and others nicely dressed. One smiled while another was faceless, the photo cut off at the neck.

  This Cruisre app used to be more fun before he’d found the man he wanted. It connected him with others like himself for friendship, dating, or hookup, well, mostly hookup. After all, who found Mr. Right overnight?

  At Dan and Genie’s house, the selection changed. The guys were different from those he saw at home. The app showed profiles nearby. Dan had some interesting neighbors, but none of them were Josh.

  Steve’s back slouched in the armchair, feet up on the coffee table. Genie let them do this in the den, but she drew the line at smoking. He needed a cigarette to get through these pictures. His habit would have to wait.

  Dan stopped smoking all together when Genie asked. He’d do anything for her, even quit a ten-year addiction. This blew Steve’s mind. He couldn’t imagine ever giving it up.

  It was Tuesday, time to check The Pariah again. He didn’t want to deal with the disappointment. Maybe he would try one more time. Josh never showed up at any of the bars.

  Steve wasn’t having much more luck online. He found a lot of guys, except for the one he was looking for, and if Josh turned up on the screen, there wasn’t anything to do or say that would make a difference. His chest hollowed out with a sigh. At least if he saw Josh, he could ask how he was. Alright? Steve hoped.

  This was stupid. He had to get over it. Josh had said as much and put it in writing, the ink barely faded. If only Steve could get that night out of his head. Josh wasn’t pretending when they made love. There was no way.

  The slider to the patio opened. Little Taco ran in wagging his tail. Dan was never far behind the dog. He called him a Chihuahua, but to Steve, it looked more like a rat terrier, white with black spots.

  A swooshing sound came from the kitchen. Genie must have turned on the dishwasher. Laughter preceded her as she entered the den with her new friend, Martha. They hovered around Steve’s comfy chair. Taco jumped on his lap, and he scratched the dog’s ear like he used to do with Dan’s old beagle, when they were kids. He never had a dog of his own, just his sister’s cat, who didn’t like him.

  “Thanks for dinner guys.” Steve’s voice got gravelly when he needed a smoke. “Great grub.” It really was, and Genie was nice to him. Maybe she saved it up for later. He was due for some ball busting from her. She loved giving him a hard time. He never deserved it.

  “It was delicious.” Martha clutched her hands to her chin so dainty. “Thank you, Genie.”

  “Dan did most of the work.” Genie rested a hand on Dan’s shoulder. “Over that hot grill.” She kissed her husband on the cheek.

  “It’s starting to warm up out there.” Dan gave her a hug with one arm. “Is this movie-night? Too bad I have to walk the dog.”

  At the word walk, Taco jumped from Steve’s lap and danced around Dan’s feet. It was an old trick. Dan didn’t fool anyone.

  A corner of Steve’s mouth lifted, and he sucked on a tooth. “Why don’t you stay and watch the movie with us?” He already knew the answer. From way back. Dan never went to the movies. Other friends did. They were mostly girls though, and none of them wanted to see Bond with him. He had to watch his hero alone.

  With a smack, Steve tongued the tooth. “Don’t you want some cake?” It came from a favorite bakery. Not a very nice thing to do, but he brought it anyway. Genie wouldn’t let Dan have any. Everyone knew it. Oh well, Dan had it coming.

  “Don’t you want to watch the movie with us?” Genie patted Dan’s ample stomach. “We’re having the cake. It’s from that bakery you love.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. Taco wants a walk. What’s the flick, another tearjerker?”

  Steve sighed. Oh no, not again with that.

  Dan glanced at him. “Am I going to come home and find my wife with my best friend on the couch beside a pile of Kleenex?”

  It only happened once. Steve winced. He would never hear the end of it. Dan had a lot of nerve making fun of him when the only reason he’d watched the movie in the first place was because Dan asked him for a favor. If he’d said no, then Dan would be watching the movie with Genie, and Dan knew it.

  Steve’s hand rested on his belly. Through his T-shirt, he rubbed his navel with a fingertip. It was a bad habit. He should stop that. Martha caught him doing it. Since Martha showed up, Genie didn’t need him anymore for her movie-night. She didn’t appreciate him, just made fun. Going forward, the deal was off. Let Martha have the job.

  Dan chuckled as he put the leash on the dog. He sat down for minute on the couch and usually didn’t leave until the movie started. Genie and Martha settled next to him. Taco yipped.

  “I just love a good cry at the movies.” Martha patted Taco’s head.

  “I do too.” Genie glanced his way. “But Steve and I don’t tear up at the same things. For him, it’s when guys kiss and make love. He loses it every time. Can you imagine? I didn’t cry until the sad ending.”

  Thanks, Genie, for sharing that personal fact. He didn’t say it out loud. No one looked at him. Good. It was Steve’s inside voice. For a minute he wasn’t sure. Yeah, he didn’t cry at the tragic ending. It pissed him off. He wanted a happy-ever-after. It was a big deal when guys kissed in the movies. He waited years to see it. Ever since that first time, it got to him.

  “I picked this movie from the Bechdel List.” Genie pointed to the screen on her phone. “We’re seeing the classic Some Like It Hot. It passed the test even back in 1959.”

  Steve rubbed his navel. Genie never picked a Bond flick. She took a film elective in nursing school. Now she had something to prove. Anyway, it was her movie-night, so her call.

  “What’s that?” Martha leaned over to look at the screen in Genie’s hand.

  Genie showed her. “The Bechdel Test. There have to be at least two women characters with names, and they have to talk to each other about something other than a man.”

  Martha grinned and clutched her little hands to her chin. “Oh, I think I’ve heard of that. What a good idea.”

  It sounded like a good idea to Steve too. Maybe Genie would leave him alone now and mind her own business. Assuming he qualified as a man for this test. He didn’t bet on it. Dan chuckled like he read his mind.

  “Our movie tonight is a romantic comedy.” She glanced his way. “I picked it for Steve. He knows why. You need some love and romance in your life. He’s the only one of our friends who isn’t married yet. Well, you’re engaged, Martha, but he doesn’t even have a real boyfriend, just his ex, Chris. Steve calls him his old standby. That’s not very romantic, and who cries at a sex scene?”

  He put down his phone. “It’s romantic to me.” They were looking at him. He must have said it out loud. With so much on his mind, it was hard to tell. All he could think about was Josh.

  Genie sighed. “Bless his heart, sex isn’t romance. The romantic part is everything in between.”

  She made it sound like a whoopie pie, one of his favorite things from the bakery, soft chocolate pancakes with marshmallow cream inside. “What if there isn’t any?”

  “Any what?” Genie asked.

  “No in-between.” Not only didn’t he have the cream, he was short a pancake. Had just one, with no hope of ever getting another.r />
  “Well that’s the problem.” Genie said. “You’re missing out on the best part. Some single guys just don’t understand how lonely they are. Dan, tell him.”

  Dan was already halfway out the door. They both saw it coming. It wasn’t like this was the first time Genie got on her high horse. She was going to call him back, and then he would change the subject.

  “Dan, where are you?” Genie’s voice could be so loud. “I need to talk to you.”

  Dan stuck his head around the corner. Taco did too. “What’s the matter, honey? Taco wants a walk. Oh! I just remembered. Steve, there’s this guy at work, a trapeze artist. He’s looking for a realtor and wants to see places like at midnight. A night owl, I guess. Do you do that?”

  “Not usually, but I can, if the place is vacant. You can’t do it if people are in bed.”

  “Should I give him your number?” Dan asked.

  “Sure, any night after my gig’s fine. What’s he looking for?”

  “A rental investment, mid-range.”

  Genie leaned toward Martha. “That’s what he calls it. It’s so cute. He calls it his gig.”

  “I’m not doing that forever.” So, he moonlighted in an all-male review. What was the big deal? Steve caught his finger on his navel and pulled it away. “I’m a realtor. Dan, tell him I’ve got the perfect investment for him. It’s one of those condos off the North Strip.” Maybe he would finally unload that place.

  Martha beamed. “When I got the job at the hospital and moved to Las Vegas, I never imagined I might meet such interesting people.”

  So, what’s wrong with Vegas that it shouldn’t have interesting people? From Steve’s experience, it had plenty, sometimes too interesting. Josh came to mind, assuming he was still in town. Back to the profiles. Maybe he would find Josh there, if he kept looking.

  Chapter 5

  Josh slid the metal chair, as cold and hard as usual, to the head of the bed, which stood upright at an angle today. He reached for the covered cup on the bedside table and handed it to his uncle, more alert than usual.

  The old man lifted the drink with both hands. Grape juice dribbled down his chin. Purple spots bloomed on his nightshirt. He paused to speak. “Keep looking.”