Wally

by Rowan Massey

  “Rydel isn’t dead. He’s guarding the door,” I said.

  “Right! I know!” He stabbed his head up and down in a violent nod, punching his tight fists in the air. His knuckles were white. “But he’s walking dead now. He’s a ghost!”

  I grabbed his dirty-smelling towel from the floor. It didn’t matter if it was clean. I looked around for some soap, found a small bar of it, and led Nando by the hand down to the bathroom.

  “They picked me,” Nando went on, “to go in the warehouse. Hoo-OOOH! Wow! That place was fucked up!”

  He was too distracted with talking when I tried to give him the hint to take his clothes off, so I undressed him myself. He moved his arms and legs automatically. The mud had made it up into his shirt and down into his pants.

  “Me and a bunch of us Dread Reds, loaded up, armed to the teeth with fucking guns, ammo, knives, helmets, and—fuck!—those grenades really got ’em!” He pointed at his dick when I took his briefs off. “That’s my rage boner. You like that? Been getting rage boner the whole time! I’m ready for more. I mean, we were out there like, forever. Waiting and waiting, but I’m ready for more. Then—”

  I turned the water on and shoved him into the shower without checking the temperature. He shivered and hissed but didn’t move. I started getting my own clothes off. I didn’t know what to think of the “rage boner” thing. He was half-hard but was that really from rage?

  “How many guys did I even kill? Stabbed a guy so many fuckin’ goddamn times! It was exhausting.” He made rapid stabbing motions with his fist, and I had to dodge it when I tried to get in with him. “Rydel was back with the others. With all the new guys, like a babysitter. Poor fucker.” He shook his head dramatically. “Started burning stuff. People got bored and started burning the whole river down. Whole side of the river.” He made a whooshing sound and cut his hand over the air.

  I rubbed the bar of soap under the water until it bubbled up, then started washing his hair.

  “Thought about you. My fielder boy.” He chuckled and tried to kiss me. I let him but just wanted to wash him up quickly, wash myself, then deal with whatever this was. “You worried about me, right? That’s what you’re supposed to do.”

  “I worried a lot,” I told him. “I thought you might be dead. There was somebody new dealing on the field.”

  “Good. You should worry about me.” This time when he kissed me, I kissed back. He wasn’t as rough as before, but tried to push me up against the wall.

  “Wait, let’s wash up first. Okay?” I made my voice soft and rubbed his chest with one hand.

  He leaned close and talked in my ear. “Wash your crack ’cause I’m gonna fuck you in a minute.”

  My skin woke up all over. That was kind of scary because of how nuts he was acting, but also hot as hell.

  I wondered if he had condoms. Would he be offended if I asked? Fielders didn’t have a good record when it came to caring about disease, but that was why he should wear a condom with me. Maybe I could just get one off Rydel and get it on Nando’s dick without even talking about it. Shit, I didn’t know how this stuff usually went down between people.

  His hands were raking over my body. He was trying to dig into my belly. There were red marks all over me from his nonstop groping. He grabbed my dick too rough, and I had to push him away again, which wasn’t easy to do. It was almost like we were fighting, or about to fight.

  I wanted to get him clean and back in his room. I would have been done in another minute if we weren’t both so filthy. The grime was a swirl of gray and brown at our feet. When I turned him around and soaped his shoulders and down his back, the skin in the middle of his back was rough under the mud. He’d skinned and bruised himself somehow. I washed the area twice over. He’d gone quiet.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Fell,” he said. His voice was dead, and his back was to me so I couldn’t see his face.

  “How did you fall?”

  “We were all falling all over the place. It was brutal. Never stopped.”

  I was done with his back and ass, so I squatted and washed his legs and feet. Touching his wet skin wasn’t sexy like before. It just felt like taking care of a sick person.

  The dirt on me was just the usual, for the most part, so washing myself up went a lot faster. Nando kept his hands on me, dick pushing against my skin, making impatient noises, and not helping at all. Even though he was being rough, it was making me horny. Maybe it would be nice to let loose with him, even if it made me nervous to get started.

  I turned the water off, led him out of the stall, and wrapped the towel around his waist, leaving him to dry himself off or not. I used my sweatshirt to get dry and then I put my underwear and pants on. He’d headed back to his room, leaving all of the dirty clothes for me to gather up in a bundle.

  I went left instead of right when I went out in the hall, heading around to the front door. Rydel looked asleep until one of my bare feet made too loud of a slap on the old linoleum floor. He jerked awake and pointed his shotgun at me for a second before sighing and pointing it at the ceiling.

  “Did he crash yet?” Rydel asked.

  “I think he’s calming down.”

  “So what do you want?”

  “Uh, never mind.” I turned halfway, but then back again.

  He rolled his eyes and rested the shotgun on his shoulder. “Spit it out.”

  “You have a condom?”

  He stared at me a second and burst out laughing.

  “You worried he’ll make you sick, huh?” He chuckled.

  “I’m worried I’ll make him sick.”

  His smile turned into a disturbing frown, and he gestured with his head for me to come closer. When I did, he tried to hand the gun to me, even tho I was holding the clothes.

  “Take the door a minute,” he said. So I dumped the clothes on the floor by the stairs and took his shotgun from him. I didn’t know what the fuck to do with it if something happened, but pulling a trigger couldn’t be that complicated. Rydel slowly went up the stairs, pulling himself up each step by the railing, and disappeared. I looked the gun over. It looked so banged up, I was surprised it still worked right. Maybe it was mostly to hit people with, because it could easily take Rydel’s hand off or something. I wondered if I would ever have a gun. I’d be a lot harder to jump and rob if I managed to save up for one. Or even better, the doc might decide at some point that I should carry one. Doc was hard to figure out when it came to violence though.

  Rydel came downstairs even more slowly than he’d gone up. He handed me two condoms in clear packages and took his gun back.

  “Maybe he’ll fuck it out of his system,” he said.

  I grabbed the laundry and hurried to Nando’s room. The door was wide open. He was only wearing the towel, sitting wet in the cold room. He was smoking the butt of a cigarette and polishing his gun with a T-shirt.

  “Shut the door,” he said, and coughed a little. “That smoke was pretty bad. You smelled like smoke too. Why’s that? Did you go down and check out the action?”

  “I was at the doc’s all night, but outside.”

  “How does that work? He doesn’t like you in his house?”

  “We stayed in his garden.”

  I closed the door with my foot and dumped the clothes in front of it. His body was still moving in quick, nervous ways, but at least he wasn’t talking fast and crazy anymore. I sat beside him and put a hand on his wrist, trying to nudge him to put the gun back down. He did, and tackled me backwards onto the bed. His towel fell onto the floor. The blanket was itchy on my spine while he kissed me and hurried to take my pants off. Before he could pull them down, I took the condoms out of my pocket and put them on the bed.

  He laughed. “You came prepared. Just dying for me to fuck you.”

  I shrugged. I wasn’t getting hard anymore. I was mostly scared.

  “Lay on the pillow. Face down.” He said.

  Jesus Christ, I was about to do it. I laid like
he told me to. Instead of getting on top of me, he got off the bed and started throwing his clutter around. It took him no time at all to start getting frustrated and throwing things against the wall.

  I sat up and held my hands up to him. “What are you doing? It’s okay. What are you looking for?”

  “Lube,” he growled. “Forget it. Lay down.”

  I did, hugging the pillow to my chest, trying to figure out what I was feeling, if anything. He hurried onto the bed behind me. I flinched when he slapped his hands onto my ass cheeks and pushed them apart so that it almost hurt from the skin being stretched. He spit on my crack a couple of times and it slid over my asshole. It was kind of disgusting. I buried my face in my hands while his thumb rubbed over my hole.

  “Let go,” he said. “You’re too tense.”

  His other hand rubbed at my leg and ass cheek. Maybe he meant it to be soothing or sexy, but it was more the way you rub somebody to warm them. I tried to relax myself. I heard him put a finger in his mouth, getting it wet, and then felt it press against my asshole. It went in almost right away, and I pushed my face into the mattress, pillow still against my chest. He leaned forward and grabbed, and pulled on it, so I lifted up, thinking he didn’t want it under me for some reason, but he slid the pillow down so that it was under my dick. My ass was propped up a little. It felt fucking nuts having my ass up and naked like that. It was cold, and I was getting goosebumps. Nando wet his finger again, spit on me again, and slipped a finger back into me. I told myself to relax and not hold my breath while he pumped it in and out. After a minute I could relax enough for him to get in further. It didn’t hurt but didn’t feel good at all.

  I turned my head to the side to look at him. He was biting down hard on his lip and looked angry, his eyes not really looking at me. He was looking at something going on in his head.

  That was when I knew he was going to hurt me.

  I needed to tell him I changed my mind. My mouth and body just weren’t working. There was something wrong with me. I couldn’t speak up. I couldn’t move.

  He spit down my crack again and put two more fingers in. I hissed and my leg twitched. I tried to scoot up away from him. At least I could do that much. He grabbed my thigh in his new, harsh way and held me in place.

  “Shhh, it won’t hurt bad. I’ll make it quick. I just need you right now. You have no idea. Lay still for me, Wally. Okay?” The words were nice, but his voice was too low and intense. He kept talking like that while I tried to do what he said. I watched him open the condom packet and fumble with it in his hurry to get it on. He was hard, ready to go, but I wasn’t.

  Everything about the situation told me to get up and get out of the building—go find Spitz and Fiona. I stayed frozen in place.

  He gave each of my ass cheeks a big kiss, then spit on his own dick and pressed it against my hole.

  There was no way. If there was a way to open my ass, I didn’t know what it was. But he kept pushing against me, spitting, and telling me it wouldn’t hurt, and that he needed to. I was hissing in pain when he got the head a few inches in. I expected him to just keep pushing, but he kissed and rubbed my back instead.

  “You’re doing so good. I’ve been needing you so bad. You relax now. Shhhh. I’ll take care of you.” His voice was getting softer. Maybe he wouldn’t let it hurt. I tried to trust him.

  My chest hurt in the middle. It was an ache I couldn’t find any reason for. Was it just the smoke? I shifted my weight off my chest and onto my arms, but it didn’t help.

  “Push like when you take a shit. Push against my dick. Do it.”

  Fuck. Was he insane? I pushed myself up on my arms and his dick fell out. I tried to turn over to talk to him. I didn’t want to do anal yet. I wanted to try it with lube some other day. My mouth kept opening, but I couldn’t find any of the right words.

  He grabbed my hips and turned me back into the same position. He pushed his dick in again. It hurt, and I groaned into the skin of my arm, wondering if the crying thing would happen to me again. It seemed like a normal time for crying.

  I laid there for long, ugly seconds, trying to make myself relax, and pushing against his dick until he started to get in further and further. I was feeling like I might really take a shit, but if things got messy, it was his fault. He got in so far that I couldn’t breathe normally. I couldn’t stand it much longer. He pushed himself all the way up into me, and I sobbed without tears, without being able to breathe. I felt trapped. It was all a bad mistake. I just hoped he would be fast and let me leave.

  He fucked me.

  With every movement he made, I heard myself sob and moan. I couldn’t help scooting up the mattress. He just shuffled up with me and kept going. When he got close enough, the precum helped a little.

  He made a noise like an animal, pushed into me a few more times, and pulled out slow.

  “Fuck!” I said, realizing he was finished. Why had he done me like that? I’d wanted it to be fun. I’d thought it would be so hot.

  I kept my face hidden in my hands while he wiped my ass with something rough, then landed on the bed beside me and closed his eyes.

  Just like that, he was asleep.

  Air sucked in and out of my lungs, shaky and dry. My options were to stay and be warm despite feeling like shit, leave and spend the day wandering around alone in the cold with my thoughts, or walk for a long time to get back to that house where Spitz and Fiona were.

  I was really thirsty. I sat up and crawled across the bed to reach my pack and the water bottles in it. I drank one down, gulping until it was empty.

  The light by his bed made me feel like it had to be night, but it was still morning. I couldn't imagine making my way through the whole day. I wanted to dance.

  I was lower than a ten.

  But I had a job I could go to. If Nando and Rydel were home, maybe that meant everyone would be home from the fight. Once they were off the streets, I would go to the lab and do my laundry, make drugs on the middle table, sing songs for Doc, make us lunch, talk about things in scales of one to ten, and give him my blood.

  I looked over at the bed where Nando was breathing heavy. Little smears of red blood on the sheets. I put a hand to my ass, and it was a little wet. I picked up the rag Nando had used to clean us up. It had some blood on it. He hadn’t thought that was important? What did it mean? Was I supposed to bleed? Was it a bad thing or had Nando ignored it because it was no big deal? I took my phone out and put pants on. Out in the hall, I dialed the doc before knowing what I was going to say.

  “Hi,” Doc said. “Nando alright?”

  I opened my mouth but didn’t say anything, just stared out the window at a brick wall.

  “Wally?” I liked hearing his voice.

  “I don’t know,” I said, pulling at my hair; combing it, then yanking it. “He’s acting…weird. But now he’s sleeping.”

  “You should rest too,” he said. “You don’t sound good. Yesterday took a toll.”

  “Yeah, I know. So should you.”

  “I was going to but somebody called me,” he said, and sighed. I could picture him dragging a hand down his worn-out face. “What do you need?” he asked.

  “Fuck, sorry.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “I didn’t think. Go back to sleep.”

  “It’s alright. Were you calling just to check in?”

  “I, um…I don’t know. I guess things aren’t good here. Can I come into work early?”

  “You don’t have to…” He hesitated, and I wondered why. “But, of course. If you want to. Be careful. You have your knife?”

  “Yeah.” I took my hand off my head and shook it out. “I’ll be alright.”

  “Just stay clear of anybody wearing red or black. You should be fine. I saw some action on the way home, but I think everyone is inside to recover. If you run into trouble, please call me.”

  “Thanks, Doc.” I said, feeling a heavy relief, and hung up. I wished I’d waited for him to hang up first.

  I dressed in Nando�
��s room, careful not to wake him up, and got my dirty clothes together. He didn’t move, and I left without saying goodbye.

  Walking made my ass feel weird. It hurt, but not horribly. And I knew I was walking like a guy who’d gotten fucked or taken a big dump. When I walked past Rydel, with my pack on my back, and hoodie up around my face, he only glanced up at me from a sports magazine.

  “He’s sleeping,” I said.

  “Well, he can sleep for a little while.” He went back to his reading, and I went out the door.

  The drizzle of rain in the air was so light, I didn’t know what I was feeling on my face at first. I found a big garbage bag from a trash can, and tore holes in it so that I could wear it and keep myself half dry.

  I limped along, trying to sort my thoughts out. Now that it was over, I was sad I couldn’t feel excited about not being a virgin anymore. But was that all I felt? I didn’t know. I decided not to try too hard to understand myself. It just was what it was. Nando had been fucked up. I hadn’t known what I was doing. Sometimes life was like that. By night time, I wouldn’t care at all.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I have a few questions for you,” Doc said, “but we’ll save it for later. We’re going to eat too much first. How does that sound?”

  He was opening and closing cabinet doors in his kitchen. I didn’t know what he was going to make, but I knew it would be delicious. I faced the big window looking down at the weedy garden. It seemed like at least a whole day since we’d spent the night out there. Being inside was special. I hadn’t let myself get used to it and forget that I would be out under the sky all the time if it wasn’t for Doc.

  My Doc. That was how I was starting to think of him. Maybe it was immature. I’d only had the job about a week, but I’d known Doc for years. I knew I got attached to people too fast, but for right then, I just couldn’t care. He would be my Doc and nobody would know but me that he was mine. Or was I his the way his son had been his?

  I paced around the table and over to where he was slicing potatoes and putting them on a pan to roast in the oven. It wasn’t even cooking yet, and I could taste it. I felt like I was supposed to say something—show I was excited to eat, that I was grateful, but I walked back to the table, and then dragged my feet around to the window.