Something Like Thunder

by Jay Bell

  “Stay patient,” Nathaniel said.

  “Yes,” Inga agreed. “You must be patient. But I think you are ready.”

  Finally she set him free and rolled out of his way. She didn’t seem poised to rescue him if need be, confident in the product. Kelly took a few steps, then his face lit up. After that he walked without a care in the world. At the end of the bars, he turned smoothly, doing a little jig as he walked the length again. No crutches, his long-fingered hands not forced to grip a plastic handle. Instead they waved in the air, Kelly acting silly in celebration. Nathaniel felt pretty damn happy too, which nearly had him crying. He swallowed against this, forcing himself to calm down. Even happy tears might send the wrong signal or make Kelly feel pressured to choose this as his new lifestyle.

  Inga stood, holding out her hands. “Would you like to try without support?”

  For Kelly the question was rhetorical. He kept walking past the bars, Inga backing up to keep pace with him until her back hit the wall. Then she laughed.

  “Very good!” she said. “You’re a quick learner.”

  “By the end of the day, I’ll be running laps,” Kelly joked.

  “Jogging?” Inga asked, worried by the suggestion. “Not today. Maybe in a week, you can try.”

  “Not on this leg,” Kelly said. “The Genium doesn’t support running.”

  “Icks tsfy,” Inga responded.

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Oh! I’m sorry. The leg you have, it’s a… uh… X2.”

  “I still don’t know what that means,” Kelly said.

  “The X2 leg is designed in cooperation with the United States military.” Inga put an arm around him, leading Kelly back toward the bars. “Right now it is for soldiers, but in the future, there will be a civilian release too.”

  “But what you’re saying,” Kelly said, “is that I can run on this leg. The one I’ve got on right now.”

  Inga nodded. “Yes. Of course. Just not now.”

  “Not now because it hasn’t been developed fully, or—”

  “You must learn to walk,” Inga said, sounding stern. “You must train. Once you have, you can run with the leg you are now wearing.”

  Kelly’s head shot up, eyes searching him out. Nathaniel swallowed again and nodded. Kelly stared a little longer, grinning like Nathaniel had done something clever. He was still smiling when he turned back to Inga.

  “Bear with me,” Kelly said, “but when you say run, do you mean I’ll dawdle along at a respectable rate, or that I’ll be hauling ass like I used to?”

  “Mein Gott,” Inga said to herself. “Ist das so schwer zu glauben?”

  “Okay,” Kelly said with a mad laugh. “That sounded irritated enough to convince me.

  Nathaniel headed for the door. When two heads turned to him in confusion, he muttered that he needed to use the men’s room. Once he was in the hallway, he pressed his back against the wall and exhaled, trying to get himself under control emotionally. What he felt wasn’t pride or satisfaction for having done a good deed. He didn’t even know if what he felt had a name because seeing Kelly happy, seeing him get the good things he deserved, felt like God had stepped in to correct his own mistakes. Nathaniel took no credit for that. Chance had led him to his current position in life. But he was grateful. To anyone out there listening, he gave thanks.

  * * * * *

  Kelly refused to sit. Even while riding the U-Bahn—the underground train that snaked beneath the city—Kelly stood, only occasionally grabbing a pole for support. He wasn’t talking much. He kept his full attention on his body as he readjusted his sense of balance. Nathaniel couldn’t imagine living through such an experience, but he assumed it was going well because Kelly kept flashing him a smile.

  They arrived in Kreuzberg, just far enough from the center of Berlin to have local flavor. Winter wasn’t tourist season in Germany, so they were mostly surrounded by natives who treated them like idiots for not being able to speak German, and often responded in English with an air of superiority. Nathaniel loved it. Finally he was seeing an authentic part of the country. They bumbled through alternative shops, were approached on the street by a strange person with an offer they couldn’t understand, and stopped for a late breakfast at a burger place that didn’t seem to offer any meat. They slowly made their way on foot to the East Side Gallery, where a section of the Berlin Wall stood as a memorial.

  “I thought it would be bigger,” Kelly said musingly. “As in taller. I’m pretty sure I could pole vault this sucker.”

  “Easy now,” Nathaniel said. “You’re not the Bionic Man.”

  “I might be. Seriously though. I was thinking it would be more like the Great Wall of China.”

  “Just try to enjoy the art,” Nathaniel suggested.

  They strolled the length of the memorial wall, each section covered in painted murals. The styles varied greatly, although most made a political statement of some sort. They stopped in front of one depicting two former Communist leaders kissing.

  “Up against the wall,” Nathaniel said, reaching for his camera bag.

  Kelly smirked. “Sounds promising.” He walked up to the wall and turned around. “Aren’t there enough photos of me in the world already?”

  “No. I need more.”

  “So these aren’t for Marcello?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then maybe we should take a selfie,” Kelly said. “Try to recreate the art behind us.”

  Nathaniel considered him through the viewfinder, then lowered the camera. “Actually, let’s swap places. My mom has been asking me to email some new photos.”

  “Oh.”

  Kelly stepped forward. Nathaniel met him halfway and handed over the camera. Then he walked to the wall and leaned against it, ignoring the hissed complaint from one of the locals. Kelly messed with the settings, absorbed in the process. Then he raised the camera, snapped a few photos, and walked diagonally to change his angle.

  “Step away from the wall,” he said. “I want to get a long shot.”

  Nathaniel did what he was told, even though he didn’t enjoy having his photo taken.

  “Try to look less miserable,” Kelly suggested.

  Nathaniel crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.

  “Perfect,” Kelly said, the shutter clicking. Then he lowered the camera, his face growing somber when he tried to hand it back.

  “Hang on to it,” Nathaniel said. “I’m sick of carrying it around.” When Kelly’s expression remained pensive, he added, “You okay?”

  “Yes.” Kelly’s shoulders relaxed. “It’s just intimidating when you run out of excuses to avoid doing what you’ve always wanted. I can take photos again. There’s nothing holding me back now.”

  “You’ll do fine,” Nathaniel said. “The worst that can happen is you’ll realize you’re not talented enough to fulfill your greatest dream.”

  “Very encouraging,” Kelly said, raising the camera and snapping another photo of him. “I’ll be sure to remember that when I’m doing covers for Time magazine.”

  They grabbed a kebab from the nearest train station, then used the S-Bahn to explore the city, hopping off at different stops to look around. Nathaniel kept waiting for Kelly to say he needed a break, but his energy seemed limitless.

  Today was a trial for them both. Nathaniel fell back a few paces, looking at Kelly from behind, wanting to be sure he hadn’t done any of this for selfish reasons. Seeing him walk so effortlessly was different. Did he prefer it? Not really. He was grateful that life would be easier for Kelly now, but he didn’t find him more attractive than before or any less so. Only the person mattered to him—the intelligent, sharp-tongued powerhouse of attitude. How Kelly happened to get around didn’t matter. Nathaniel loved him either way.

  He stopped suddenly. These feelings were hardly a revelation, but for once he didn’t fight them, re-label them, or avoid their implications. He loved Kelly. All he needed to do now was say it out loud, but no
t here. Not on a sidewalk. That brought back memories of the past. Besides, the crowds were growing thick as people got off work, the light of the day fading.

  Kelly noticed he had stopped and turned around. “What’s up?”

  “Want to go back to the hotel?” Nathaniel asked.

  Kelly gave him a knowing expression. “I was hoping to do a little shopping first.”

  “Okay.”

  Kelly glanced around. “I need to sit down.”

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah, just normal tired.”

  They decided to grab a beer, avoiding food since they were still full from the heavy lunch. Once they felt recharged, they slipped into a nearby department store.

  “I need new shoes!” Kelly declared. “And maybe a nice pair of jeans. I won’t have to fold one leg anymore! Oh my god! Do you have any idea how exciting this is?”

  Before Nathaniel could respond, Kelly was practically leaping through a retail paradise. He caught up with him on the escalators and took his hand, not to slow him down, but because it was the least of what he really wanted to do. Only part of his urges were physical. Most of all he wanted to be alone together so he could finally confess his feelings. Instead he found himself standing in a shoe department, Kelly trying on a good portion of the inventory and deciding on nothing. Then they took a trip to men’s fashion, where Kelly assembled an outfit with expert skill. Nathaniel waited outside the dressing room, listening to him gasp happily or murmur in surprise as he dressed. Apparently the process had changed or whatever, but Nathaniel’s patience was running out.

  “You almost done in there?” he called.

  “Come see.”

  Nathaniel yanked open the curtain to find Kelly staring at himself in the mirror. The lighting was becoming, not that he needed it. He stepped close to Kelly, placing hands on his hips, looking over his shoulder at their reflection.

  “What do you think?”

  “Handsome as always,” Nathaniel said, placing a kiss on his neck.

  “Thanks,” Kelly said, “but I mean… I look normal!”

  Nathaniel laughed. “Normal? I don’t think so. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  Kelly appeared flattered, playfully swatting one of his hands. “You’re just saying that because of the new leg.”

  Nathaniel shook his head. “Take it off and throw it in the next dumpster you see. I don’t care. Go back to your crutches if that makes you happy, or let me carry you anywhere you want to go. I’d do anything for you, Kelly. Absolutely anything, because I love you. You know that?”

  The almond-shaped eyes in the mirror grew wide, Kelly barely managing a nod.

  Nathaniel felt vulnerable. “Is that okay?”

  Kelly spun around, placing hands on his chest. “Is it okay that I’ve been in love with you for a ridiculously long time?”

  Nathaniel resisted a smile. “Since when?”

  “Gosh,” Kelly said, glancing off into the distant past. “Somewhere between the second and third glass of wine.”

  “At the fundraiser?” Nathaniel laughed. “That far back? Wow! Must have been some potent moonshine!”

  “It was,” Kelly said with a grin. “Seriously, I don’t know when it happened, but I’ve been keeping it a secret because I was worried that—”

  “Kelly,” Nathaniel interrupted.

  “Yes?”

  “I need you to stop talking.”

  “Why?”

  Nathaniel pulled him close, gently placed his forehead against Kelly’s, and stared deep into his eyes. I love you, he tried to make that gaze say, and just in case the message wasn’t received, he brought their lips together for a kiss. And another. There could never be enough. Nathaniel would have to find other ways, gestures of an infinite variety, to communicate what he felt inside, but he looked forward to each attempt. For now, a simple kiss would have to do. I love you.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Idealistic dreams were sent scattering by a knock on his office door. Nathaniel hurriedly gathered the photos of Kelly to turn them upside down. He had nothing to hide, but the last thing he wanted was Marcello prying into his personal life.

  “What is it?” he grunted, hoping to sound busy.

  The door opened revealing dark hair and silver eyes. “Hey!” Tim said. “Long time no see. You busy?”

  “No!” Nathaniel stood and gestured for Tim to enter. They only saw each other sporadically. Tim didn’t work for the studio, but since he and Marcello were friends, occasionally they bumped into each other in the hallways. Or during certain events, such as—

  “The Eric Conroy Fundraiser is coming up,” Tim said, shaking hands before flopping into one of the chairs.

  Nathaniel sat down again. “I’ve already got the invite list ready.”

  “Cool. This year I’d like to get the artists directly involved with the people shelling out money to help them. I also want the patrons to see the actual art. The gallery is a little too small for what I’m thinking and, well, Marcello said you were the man to talk to. Unless he’s trying to hook us up again. Ha ha.”

  “I have a boyfriend,” Nathaniel blurted out.

  Tim’s eyebrows shot up. “I was kidding.”

  “I know,” Nathaniel said, shaking his head. “Sorry. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, which apparently means telling everyone I meet. Although if I’m honest, I think I’ve had a boyfriend for a long time. I just didn’t realize it until recently.”

  Tim’s grin was easy. “Believe it or not, I know exactly what you mean. Some guys lure you in nice and slow. You wake up one day and realize you’re in a relationship. Or they straight up tell you. Remember on our date when I waxed nostalgic about that one guy? The one?”

  “Ben,” Nathaniel said. When Tim looked surprised he added, “Marcello talks about you two a lot. You found your way back to him.”

  “Yeah,” Tim said, his smile getting even brighter. “Never thought it would happen, but it did.”

  “Congratulations.” Nathaniel tapped his index finger against the desk, his leg jittering. “Aren’t you terrified that you’ll fuck it all up? Like now that you’ve got what you always wanted, you’ll make one wrong move and ruin everything?”

  “Every single day,” Tim said matter-of-factly.

  “And you’re okay with that?”

  “I don’t have a choice. If it does happen… This guy you’re with, is he patient?”

  “No.”

  Tim laughed. “Okay, is he forgiving?”

  Nathaniel thought about it. Kelly had been through a lot with William, but he never blamed the accident on him or obsess over him falling in love with Jason Grant. When William came up in conversation, his memory was treated with affection. That relationship might have been a painful learning experience, but Kelly didn’t seem to hold a grudge. “He’s pretty forgiving. I think.”

  “There you go. Unless you do something unbelievably stupid, chances are you can work through it.”

  Nathaniel didn’t feel much better. “What if I hurt him? Or he hurts me?”

  Tim thought about this. “My grandma has a saying. It’s in Spanish, because she’s Mexican, but roughly translated…” When he spoke again, he sounded more like an old woman with a thick accent. “If you strike yourself while hammering a nail, you can either suck your thumb for the rest of your life or get on with building yourself a home.”

  “So basically, get over it.”

  Tim nodded. “That’s what she would tell you, and believe me, you wouldn’t want to argue with her. I tried once.” He rubbed his arm as if he’d been punched there. “It didn’t go so well.”

  * * * * *

  Nathaniel’s relationship with Kelly had come full circle. Or full oval, considering they were standing in front of a high school running track. The same one they had visited on their first date, as Nathaniel now thought of it. He had mentally rewritten much of their relationship, stripping it of distance and denial. He could admi
t now that they had been together a long time, getting to know each other emotionally and physically. And here they were again, except now Kelly’s spirits were high.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Nathaniel asked.

  Kelly glanced up from fiddling with the camera and tripod. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Because you’re supposed to work with a physical therapist before attempting anything like this, and I don’t recall you going to any appointments.”

  “I go while you’re at work,” Kelly said, focusing on the camera settings.

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  Nathaniel narrowed his eyes. “You don’t really have one, do you?”

  “I have a therapist,” Kelly insisted.

  “Then what’s his name?”

  “What’s her name,” Kelly said, wagging a finger at him. “Her name is Allison Cross.”

  “That’s the name of your counselor. Wrong kind of therapist.”

  Kelly fought down a grin. “How do you remember these things?”

  “Because I like to imagine her being cross with you when you’re being a duplicitous shit. Like now.”

  “Her technique is more of the kill-them-with-kindness variety. You should try it sometime.”

  “Not a chance,” Nathaniel said. “I’m serious. I don’t want you hurting yourself.” He was tempted to add that he didn’t blow thousands of dollars just for Kelly to break the damned leg while messing around, but that would give away his secret.

  “I’ll be fine,” Kelly said. “If anything goes wrong, at least we’ll have a series of photos to show the physical therapist. I’m sure that will be enlightening.”

  “So you’ll go? You’ll see a physical therapist?”

  “Naturally.” Kelly pushed one last button and stepped away from the camera. “But only if this doesn’t work. I’m going to run again, no matter what it takes. Ready?”

  “Just start slow,” Nathaniel insisted. “Maybe a little speed-walking.”

  Kelly humored Nathaniel for the first lap, Zero running circles around them as if he too agreed. Why hesitate? Now or never!

  After the first lap, Kelly stopped to adjust his leg, spared Nathaniel a sly grin, and said, “Try to keep up.” Then he was running. Despite his boast, he wasn’t going too fast. Not at first. Nathaniel easily kept pace, his full attention on Kelly, who kept looking down at himself as if taking stock. He seemed to be experimenting, his lope becoming longer or shorter as needed, his arms alternating between swinging and pumping. Whatever he was looking for, he must have found it, because he burst forward, Zero barking excitedly. They ran past the camera’s location not once but twice, Kelly clearly intent on going for a third. As much as Nathaniel wanted to keep tabs on him, his exhaustion was increasing. He was considering heading for the bleachers when he saw Kelly looking at him, his face plastered with wild glee. Nathaniel was smiling back when a scuffing noise interrupted their perfect moment.