Something Like Thunder

by Jay Bell

  After a little more coaxing, Nathaniel left to take what was supposed to be a very quick shower. Once he was under the hot water, he let himself cry, his thoughts muddled. He felt purged by the time he shut off the water. When dressed again, he returned to the living room. Kelly had a tablet with him and was using it to browse the Internet.

  He looked up and nodded his approval. “Much better. Now tell me what you need from the store.”

  Quite a lot, as it turned out. He was glad to have help. Sheila had offered, but he knew she had her hands full with work and parenting. Marcello was an option, but he’d probably only bring back pâté, truffles, and one of the bag boys. Kelly had practically lived with him, and when he returned from the store—arms full of groceries—it was clear he still remembered which brands Nathaniel preferred.

  By evening, Kelly was in the kitchen cooking a beef stew, the aroma mouth-watering. Comfort food. “Dinner time,” he said, walking into the living room with one of Zero’s bowls. “Better put him on the floor in case it’s messy.”

  Nathaniel hoisted the dog up and placed him on the carpet.

  Kelly set the bowl down, but much too far away. “Come get it.”

  “What are you doing?” Nathaniel asked, taking a step forward.

  Kelly held up a hand to stop him. “Let’s see what he does.”

  “That’s cruel!”

  “Maybe. Look.”

  Zero raised his head, attention locked on the bowl of stew. He was pawing at the carpet with his good leg, but didn’t achieve much.

  “Kelly—” Nathaniel said warningly.

  Zero pressed his paw harder on the floor, then did the same with his head, trying to drag himself forward. He managed to shift, if only a fraction of an inch.

  Kelly moved the bowl close enough that he could eat. “Does it look like he’s given up?”

  “No,” Nathaniel admitted.

  “Then don’t you give up on him,” Kelly said. “Not yet. We’re survivors. All three of us.”

  “Okay,” Nathaniel said, his chest tight. “What are we going to do?”

  Kelly walked over to the coffee table and picked up his tablet. “Get a second opinion.”

  Nathaniel stared after him. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Kelly turned around and smiled. “So am I.”

  * * * * *

  The veterinarian who made a house call two days later was young and pale, curly blond hair reaching his shoulders. He looked more qualified to review video games on YouTube than to treat sick animals, but Kelly assured him that Dr. Colin was not only a fully qualified veterinary neurologist, but that he already had a number of impressive achievements to his name. Nathaniel’s hopes plummeted as he watched the vet do the same basic tests that Dr. Ward had done. He knelt next to the couch, felt along Zero’s spine, checked his eyes, looked inside his ears, and listened to his heart.

  “I’d say it’s either a tumor or a stroke,” Dr. Colin said, standing up again.

  The same diagnosis. Nathaniel was too depressed to roll his eyes. “So what would you do?” he asked. “Pretend this was your dog and you didn’t have to worry about the feelings of anyone else.”

  “Nothing,” Dr. Colin said.

  “Nothing?”

  The veterinarian nodded. “Tests are expensive and in this situation unnecessary because all you need to do is wait and see. If he starts to get worse—stops eating or has any other negative symptoms—then you’re dealing with a tumor. We can talk about options then. From what you’ve told me, he’s remained stable.”

  “His appetite improved after the first day,” Nathaniel said.

  “Good. If he shows other signs of improvement, I’d say you’re dealing with a stroke. Ninety-five percent of dogs recover from strokes. You can’t rush Mother Nature though. Some things take a long time to heal. But they do. Eventually.”

  Nathaniel exchanged a hopeful glance with Kelly. “So you’re saying he might get better?”

  “I can’t promise anything, but yes. You’re taking good care of him. He’s cleaner than most healthy dogs. Keep it up and see what happens in another week.”

  They were in high spirits after the veterinarian left. Little had changed, but now they had hope, which was worth the bill they were given. They watched Zero all night, imagining he would hop to his paws at any moment. This didn’t happen, but all the chores that needed to be done—carrying him outside to potty and everything else—now seemed a little easier.

  Nathaniel slept better too. Kelly took the couch like he’d done the previous nights. He could stay with his parents, but neither of them had suggested the idea. Nathaniel was beneath the sheets, petting Zero in the dim light and about to drift off. Then he heard soft footsteps on the carpet, felt the sheet behind him lift. A moment later, Kelly scooted close, putting an arm around Nathaniel to hold him tight.

  “Some things take a long time to heal,” Kelly whispered. “But they do.”

  Nathaniel reached for Kelly’s hand, placing his own over it and guiding it to his chest. He pressed it there, not letting go until sleep took them both.

  * * * * *

  Nathaniel awoke to a whimpering noise like he did every morning. Except this time something was different. Namely the body still pressed against his. From what he could tell, Kelly was wearing nothing but his underwear. Through it he could feel something poking him. Nathaniel allowed himself a chuckle. Then he winced, uncomfortable from sleeping in the same position all night.

  Zero whimpered again.

  “Okay,” he said. “Hold your horses.”

  He spared the dog a grumpy glare. Zero’s head was raised, eyes pleading for a lift outside so he could take care of business. Nathaniel started disentangling himself from Kelly, then did a double take. Zero’s head was raised. He was on his belly, both paws neatly in front of him.

  “You want to go potty?” Nathaniel asked.

  Zero strained, his good arm stretching forward. A second later the other followed. His movements were wobbly and definitely weak, but he managed to scoot himself forward.

  “Wake up!” Nathaniel said, elbowing Kelly in the ribs.

  “Ow! You’re such a monster!”

  “Look! He’s sitting up!”

  He glanced over to confirm that Kelly was looking, surprise spreading across his face. Then glee. “He’s getting better!”

  “Yeah,” Nathaniel said, laughing himself to tears. “He is.”

  By the end of the day, both of Zero’s front legs were doing well. He could now scoot across the carpet, hind legs dragging uselessly behind him. He could also roll over with some effort if feeling uncomfortable. Kelly insisted the dog’s tail had wagged briefly when offered a treat. Nathaniel had been in the bathroom at the time, and over the next few hours, repeatedly offered Zero more goodies in the hope that it would happen again. Currently the dog was scooting across the living room to get at a severely mutilated teddy bear he enjoyed chewing.

  “He might need crutches,” Kelly said musingly, sipping a glass of wine while sitting next to Nathaniel on the couch. “I could give him some pointers.”

  “I still have your old ones,” Nathaniel admitted.

  Kelly assessed how serious he was. Then he laughed. “That’s so sad!”

  “What?” Nathaniel said defensively. “It’s not like I cuddle with them at night.”

  “I’m not sure I believe you,” Kelly said with a smirk. “I suppose it is kind of sweet.”

  An awkward moment of tension followed. They hadn’t talked about what had happened last night. Zero had taken all of their energy during the day, and Nathaniel was worried that drawing attention to the progress they had made would somehow ruin it.

  “I feel like I’ve come home again,” Kelly said. “Like this is where I belong.”

  “In Austin?”

  “No. Right here. This apartment. This couch.”

  “Oh.” Nathaniel looked around. “I suppose you could take over my lease. I am moving to New York, after a
ll.” A second later, a pillow smacked him in the face.

  “You’re lucky I didn’t throw the wine instead,” Kelly taunted.

  “No,” Nathaniel countered, his tone serious. “I’m just lucky. If this is what I think it is, then I’m the luckiest man alive.”

  Kelly set his glass on the table, then stretched out, resting his head in Nathaniel’s lap. That felt good, as did reaching down to stroke his hair. A contented silence followed, Nathaniel tempted to press the issue, but he waited until Kelly spoke.

  “No promises. That way they can’t be broken.”

  “I’m not scared of any promises. Or commitment.”

  Kelly rolled over, looking up at him with a disbelieving expression. “Really?”

  Nathaniel met his gaze. “Want me to propose to you?”

  Kelly searched his eyes. “I’m tempted to call your bluff.”

  “Try me.”

  Kelly took a deep breath. Then he sat up, seeming a little overwhelmed. “Doesn’t seem the most appropriate time. Not with our little patient over there.”

  They both looked to the dog, who had decided the teddy bear would make a decent pillow. Zero’s eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling.

  “Looks like you’re out of excuses.” Nathaniel said, laughing when he saw the panicked response. “Don’t worry. I plan to slowly lure you back in. One step at a time.”

  Kelly batted his eyelashes demurely. “Step one being?”

  Nathaniel leaned close for a kiss. Few things could avoid the ravages of time, but their lips touching felt reassuringly familiar. Kelly shifted his body closer, his hands rubbing Nathaniel’s chest, his arms, his stomach—touching every part he could reach as if needing reassurance that everything was still there where he’d left it. Then he pulled away.

  “One more thing,” he said. “I have a boyfriend. In New York.”

  “Roar,” Nathaniel said in deadpan tones, pushing him backward into a laying position. “Growl. I’m so angry and hurt. We can’t see each other anymore.”

  Kelly studied him and laughed. “That was the final test. I promise.”

  “For me, maybe,” Nathaniel said, climbing on top of Kelly. “I plan on testing you in as many ways as you’ll let me.”

  They kissed, Nathaniel grinding against him. Kelly clung to his torso, drawing him near, unable to get enough. Or so it seemed. Just when things were getting really hot, he pushed Nathaniel away.

  “Strip for me,” he said.

  Nathaniel grinned slowly. Then got to his feet. He peeled off his T-shirt, trying to appear confident while wishing he’d hit the gym more often. Kelly seemed impressed enough, giggling when Nathaniel flexed his arms. Then he undid his belt, unbuttoned his jeans, pulled the zipper down slowly and moved the denim flaps aside to reveal his bulge.

  “Aren’t you going to get undressed too?”

  “Not yet,” Kelly said. “Keep going.”

  Nathaniel let his jeans drop, kicking them off. Then he flexed, his cock shifting behind the cotton briefs like a serpent uncoiling.

  “Off with them,” Kelly commanded.

  Nathaniel did as he was told, enjoying how Kelly was on the verge of drooling. Instead he sat up and reached for the tablet.

  “Ordering pizza?” Nathaniel joked.

  “Nope,” Kelly said, holding it up and tapping a button. The device made an artificial shutter noise.

  “What are you doing?” Nathaniel said, trying to cover himself.

  “Blackmail,” Kelly replied. “Hands on your hips.”

  Nathaniel hesitated. Then he complied. “What’s the point of this, exactly?”

  “Just a little insurance,” Kelly said, taking another photo. “If you ever try to leave me again, I’ll send these to Marcello.”

  Nathaniel shook his head. “Marcello has never shown the slightest bit of interest in me.”

  “Because he doesn’t know what you’re packing. If he did, you’d be an underwear model. How’s that for role reversal? I’ll be your manager or whatever, making sure none of the photographers get too hands-on.”

  “We can travel together,” Nathaniel said. “Once Zero is better. If that’s what you want.”

  Kelly lowered the tablet and looked at him. “I want to take photos of you. With my real camera.”

  “That’s fine. Anything you want.”

  Kelly smirked. “Funny. I was just about to make the same offer.”

  Nathaniel took that as his cue. He undressed Kelly, getting his shirt off first and licking his nipples, nibbling his neck. He wasn’t so patient with the pants, except to stop at Kelly’s artificial leg.

  “You’ve changed,” he teased. “I don’t know you anymore.”

  “That’s an X3, baby! It’s got all kinds of new features.”

  “Can it vibrate? I was thinking of humping it.”

  Kelly slapped his arm playfully. “No, but this version can go in the shower.”

  “Really?” Nathaniel said, grinning broadly. “So that means it can get wet?”

  “Don’t hump my leg, and don’t come on it!” Kelly rolled his eyes dramatically. “I never should have taken you back.”

  Nathaniel stopped kidding around. “Say that again.”

  Kelly eyed him and smiled. “I’m taking you back. You’re my man.”

  “I’m your man,” Nathaniel echoed, gently lowering himself on top of Kelly and kissing him. They pressed their naked bodies together, sometimes talking and laughing, other times expressing their emotions physically. They were in no rush, felt no urgency or frustration, even an hour later when Zero stirred and whimpered. They simply got dressed, took him outside, and kept grinning goofily at each other. Like they had all the time in the world. Like their story had only just begun.

  Epilogue

  “To know love is to know loss.”

  The podium Marcello stood behind did little to conceal his bulk. Like the audience he faced, he was dressed in all black, his expression somber. To his left and right were a number of Kelly’s photos, which had been enlarged and placed on easels for the audience to see. In one Zero was running across the yard, his feet barely touching the ground. The next image was of great contrast: Zero in the final days of his illness, his hind legs on a cart with wheels so he wouldn’t have to drag them around. Just before the unexpected had happened. A flowered wreath hung off the easel of this photo, causing Nathaniel to swallow painfully.

  “Love’s greatest challenge is not endurance. Nor is it fidelity or sacrifice. Love’s greatest challenge is recovery. A heart that has loved and lost is put through the ultimate trial. Failure means the unthinkable—never loving again. Success brings with it sweet redemption. Not a reprieve from the pain, but compensation in the form of discovery, the knowledge that love comes in infinite forms. All of them unique, all of them of equal importance. And yet, none an adequate substitute for the other. At times such as these, when faced with the end, it can be hard to be so visionary, to see light past the dark. For me especially, because let’s face it, I’m the one who has lost the most here.” He gestured at the photos on display: Zero, Kelly, and Nathaniel running together at the high school track. One of Kelly at the height of his modeling career, a photoshopped panther striding alongside him. And one of Nathaniel scowling at the camera, arms crossed over his chest. That one was a little surreal, like being not just at a funeral, but his own.

  The mood was ruined somewhat when Zero trotted up on stage, still panting from running around the gardens of Marcello’s estate. He lifted a leg and urinated on one of the easels, causing a loud snort from next to Nathaniel. He glanced over to see Kelly covering his face in embarrassment. Zero must have spotted a squirrel then, or some other poor creature, because he barked and raced off again. Nathaniel still marveled at how—after nearly three weeks of tediously slow recovery—the dog had awakened one morning his old self. Part of Nathaniel was still waiting for a relapse or another stroke, but he wouldn’t let his fear of getting hurt stop him from enjoying every
moment they had together. Kelly no longer demanded evidence that Nathaniel had changed, but if he did, there could be no greater proof than the last few months.

  Marcello continued his strange farce from on stage. “A wise man once said, ‘I may not be able to choose the date of my funeral or avoid showing up for it, but my wake is an event I practice for every single day. Mostly by looking my best while having a drink or two.’”

  “Gosh,” Nathaniel grumbled. “I wonder who came up with that gem?”

  “Why, I did!” Marcello said, appearing flattered. Then he resumed his performance. “Today we say goodbye to three individuals. An ill-behaved beast with an indomitable spirit. A talented and beautiful young man who is much too aggressive in the way he negotiates contracts. And perhaps dearest to me, a brooding man who never lets me do anything fun, and yet for some reason, I can’t help but—” Marcello’s voice faltered, but he recovered quickly. “Let’s just say I’m rather fond of him. So please join me in mourning their passing from our lives to whatever grand adventures await them. While those of us remaining in Austin will be grieving, let us not forget that they will be going to a paradise of their own creation.”

  The audience clapped, Nathaniel joining them because Marcello always knew how to put on a show, and his offer to throw a going-away party for them had been kind. The funeral theme was a little creepy, but inspired, because it reminded everyone here that some goodbyes were sadder than others.

  “I thought he’d never stop talking,” Kelly said as he stood. “All I can think of is the buffet. Are you coming?”

  Nathaniel shook his head. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

  He met Marcello just as he was stepping off the stage, grabbing him in a hug and—with some effort—lifting him off his feet.

  “Oh ho ho!” Marcello said as he was put down again. “You make me feel as dainty as a daisy!”

  “Thank you,” Nathaniel said. “For everything. Not just this party, but for singling me out in the audience at Yale, taking a chance on me when I decided to drop out, trusting me with your business… just everything. Thank you.”