Asylum (Pride and Joy Book 2)

by Robert Winter

  After another basement workout and lunch, Hernán was less sure than ever what to do about Colin. There was no question what he wanted. He wanted Colin to love him. He wanted to spend every night in Colin’s bed and learn all the ways to please him. He wanted to hide away from every doubt in his head until they couldn’t even find him. He wanted to silence Abuela’s voice in his head forever.

  But what did Colin need with a worthless turd like him?

  The struggle continued in his mind as he waited in the doctor’s office. Eventually a nurse showed him into an examining room, so much nicer than any he ever saw in San Marcos. A few minutes later, Dr. McCracken bustled in, a folder in one hand and a laptop in the other. His blond hair merged into gray at his temples. Under his white coat he wore a nice shirt with bright pink checks.

  Seating himself on a rolling stool, the doctor opened his laptop, typed a few things, and then glanced down at the folder. Looking up at Hernán, he blinked owlishly and said, “Thank you for coming in again, Mr. Portillo.”

  “Please, just Hernán.”

  Dr. McCracken nodded. He cleared his throat, returning his gaze to the folder. Silence stretched.

  The first tinge of alarm crept up Hernán’s spine.

  When the doctor spoke again, his voice was rough. “Hernán, you know we ran a wide battery of tests. We always do in a physical. Most of yours came back just fine.” He hesitated again, and Hernán closed his eyes. He already knew. “The thing is, you’ve tested positive for exposure to HIV.”

  The world fell away beneath him.

  Chapter 20

  “Do you need a minute?” Dr. McCracken’s soft voice sounded concerned. Hernán closed his eyes and sealed his lips against the scream he wanted to let out.

  It was Lonnie’s last victory. Had to be. It wasn’t bad enough Lonnie had forced Hernán to submit to those terrible things. No, he had to keep on crushing and ruining Hernán’s life forever after.

  The doctor had asked him a question. Hernán shook his head tightly. “What do…?” He had to stop to bite the inside of his cheek fiercely. He would not break, not yet. “How long do I have?” he asked and it came out in a throaty rasp.

  The doctor rolled toward him on his stool. He rested a hand on Hernán’s knee and said, “It’s not like that anymore. This is bad news, but it isn’t a death sentence. With proper care and medication, you can live a full, complete life.”

  Proper care. There was no such thing in El Salvador. Everyone he’d ever heard of who contracted HIV died alone and miserable, shunned by family, shut away from the world.

  You got what you deserved, didn’t you, little maricón? The voice in his head was taunting and cruel. He wanted to shout back at her, This isn’t my fault.

  But it probably was. If he hadn’t run from Cuernos. If he had fought harder to get away from Lonnie.

  Then I’d be dead anyway.

  You’ll be dead soon enough.

  Hernán gripped his hair in both hands and pulled, desperate not to give in to tears. Not in front of a stranger.

  Dr. McCracken said, “There’s a lot of information we should discuss but not yet. Let me give you a mild tranquilizer and when it kicks in, we can talk more. All right?”

  Hernán nodded miserably. He’d take anything offered to make the voice leave him alone.

  “Is there someone I can call to come be with you?”

  “Colin Felton.” It was out before Hernán even thought, and as soon as he said it he was desperate for it to happen. He needed Colin there to tell him what to do.

  “Certainly,” Dr. McCracken said. “A nurse will come in a moment with something for you to take, and I’ll talk to Colin myself. You stay here until he arrives. Yes?”

  Hernán nodded, and the doctor patted his knee and left. A nurse entered a moment later to offer him a small plastic cup with a single pill in it. He swallowed it with some water she brought as well, and laid on the examining table.

  His heartbeat gradually slowed to something approaching normal as the sedative kicked in. Staring up at the ceiling of the room, he tried very hard to silence the recriminations in his head and avoid the flood of memories. The room in the crumbling house, Lonnie coming for him, arms of the coyotes holding him down, the tearing pain as Lonnie forced himself inside…

  When the sedative wrapped him in enough gauze, he could shut off the noise. He rolled onto his side, his back to the door, knees at his chest. Tears trickled across his nose and down his cheek.

  After an indeterminate period of numbness, the examining room door opened behind him. “Hernán?” he heard Colin ask softly.

  Hernán couldn’t look at him. They had been so close to something Hernán wanted all his life, and it was gone before it even really began. What could Colin do with him now? He’d be kind, Hernán had no doubt, but nothing more. At the right time, he’d find a way to ease Hernán out of his life.

  Maybe he should just go ahead and return to San Marcos, make it simpler for everyone…

  Colin climbed onto the table with him and lay down, his arm wrapping tightly around Hernán’s quivering body. “Dr. McCracken asked me to come but he didn’t tell me why.” He kissed the back of Hernán’s head. “What is it, Nán? What’s happened?”

  It was easier to answer if he didn’t have to look at Colin. He didn’t want to say it at all, but with the sedative and Colin’s arm around him, he thought he could get it out.

  “I’ve tested positive for HIV.”

  Colin inhaled sharply and Hernán lost his last shred of control. He began to sob. Wet, messy, gasps of pain surged out of him and his body shook.

  Colin tugged on him until he rolled over, holding him as Hernán buried his face in Colin’s white shirt and poured out his misery. Stroking his hair, Colin kissed his brow as Hernán cried. At some point the door opened and he heard Dr. McCracken ask, “How is he?”

  Colin answered softly, “I think we need a little more time, Chris. I’ll come look for you when we’re ready.” The door closed again.

  Eventually Hernán had no more tears. He lay silent and exhausted against Colin, soaking up what comfort he could before Colin realized he was contaminated and sent him away.

  “Are you ready to sit up?” Colin asked and he nodded. They shifted around until their butts were on the paper covering the exam table and their backs rested against the wall, shoulders and legs touching. Colin held Hernán’s hand tightly in his.

  “I’m sorry,” Hernán muttered.

  “For what?”

  “The other morning. I didn’t know, I swear. I would never have put you in danger like that—”

  “Hush,” Colin chided softly. “We were completely safe, and of course you didn’t know.”

  “I should have, though.” He wiped his eyes with his free hand and then said, “I’ll get out of your apartment as soon as I can.”

  “What are you talking about?” Hernán heard the frown in Colin’s voice.

  “You don’t need this in your life. You’ve done so much for me. I’m sorry it was all wasted.”

  Colin hopped up off the table so he faced Hernán. He cupped Hernán’s cheeks in his hands and forced him to look up.

  “What is this, Hernán? What are you saying?”

  “I’ll probably just go back to El Salvador. I have some family there still who might help a little.”

  Colin hissed in pain. “You can’t be serious.” He forced Hernán to his feet and threw his arms around his back. “You aren’t going anywhere. I know how poor the health care is in El Salvador for HIV/AIDS. No way are you putting yourself at risk that way.”

  The ferocity in Colin’s voice threatened to bring tears again. Hoarsely, Hernán said, “Drugs are expensive. I won’t be able to afford treatment in the States.”

  “Oh for…” Colin fumed and stepped back. He paced the tiny room. When he turned again to Hernán, his face was red. His voice when he spoke was strident. “What part of ‘I love you’ didn’t you hear?”

  H
ernán looked at the floor. Colin crossed the narrow room to him and grasped his chin. Nostrils flaring, eyes flashing with blue fire, Colin was in full-on warrior mode.

  “I’ll say it again in case you didn’t hear me or didn’t believe me. I love you, Hernán. I don’t care we’ve only known each other a few weeks. I don’t care you don’t have permission to stay here. Yet,” he emphasized. “I don’t care that you’re proud and independent and don’t want to accept help from me. You will accept help because I have it to give. You’ll get treatment and asylum and any other damn thing you need because I. Love. You.”

  Hernán wanted to quail before Colin’s anger, though it wasn’t precisely directed at him. This Colin was a stranger to him, though in some ways it was nothing more than he’d glimpsed at the restaurant in Provincetown, that day when the warrior first appeared.

  Still, pride stiffened his spine. “You didn’t know I was sick. That changes everything. I know you’re kind and noble but nobody should have to deal with this.”

  “You have an infection. That’s it,” Colin all but shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “You aren’t sick, and if it’s handled well you’ll never get sick.”

  Hernán blinked. He tried to sort through those words, but they didn’t make sense. “Of course I’m sick. I have AIDS.”

  “Hernán, you have HIV. It isn’t the same thing.”

  “It is in my country. Everyone I’ve ever heard about died.”

  “Well, I’m telling you it’s a manageable condition.”

  The door opened just then and Dr. McCracken stepped in. “While I agree with you, Colin, could you please keep your voice down? You’re alarming my other patients.”

  Colin whipped around. He and Hernán said at the same time, “Sorry.”

  “This room is small for three people. Come with me to my office and we’ll talk there.”

  Hernán and Colin followed Dr. McCracken down a hallway to a neat office with a nice view. The doctor closed the door behind them, gestured at two upholstered chairs facing his ornate desk and then seated himself. “Hernán, are you all right with Colin being present for our conversation?”

  Colin stiffened but Hernán reached across the gap between their chairs and rested a hand on his arm. “Yes. I want him here.” He had no idea where any of this was going but he knew Colin would fight like the devil if he tried to kick him out.

  “Good. The single most important thing you need is a support network. I’ve known Colin for several years, and I doubt you’d find a better friend to help you get adjusted to this.”

  Without looking, Hernán could tell Colin was blushing and preening at the same time. “Don’t gloat,” he said out of the corner of his mouth. “I heard you and I’m trying to listen.”

  “Then let me repeat what I, and everyone in my office, heard Colin tell you. You have an infection that is manageable. I have many HIV-positive patients who have been asymptomatic for years, even decades. In all other respects you’re completely healthy. You obviously take care of yourself and you’ll want to continue.”

  Dr. McCracken made a few more notes on his laptop, muttering to himself as he typed. “We need to draw some more blood to check your CD4 count and your viral load. We also test for a particular gene to make sure you can tolerate one of the medicines incorporated into the regimen we use.”

  “What is the regimen?” Colin asked, and the doctor focused on them again.

  “Nowadays we use a single pill containing four different antiretroviral agents. Hernán, you’ll only have to take it once a day but it’s very important you take it faithfully. Intermittent use could lead to resistance to the drugs. Understood?”

  Hernán nodded. A single pill? It didn’t seem possible after the rumors he’d heard in El Salvador. “How much does it cost?” he croaked out.

  Colin said, “Don’t worry about that—” at the same time Dr. McCracken said, “It can cost thirty to forty thousand dollars per year.”

  Hernán gasped. That was more than twice what he could earn, even forgetting about food, housing, clothes…

  Colin clutched his hand and said, “We’ll talk about the cost later. Chris, what are you testing for? Can he start the pill today?”

  “As I said, we need to make sure Hernán’s virus isn’t resistant to any of the available drugs by running a Genotype test. If it is resistant, there are other regimens. We also need to check kidney function.”

  Colin inhaled sharply and shot a look at Hernán. The scars on his side throbbed with his awareness. The stabbing…

  “If you’re thinking about the kidney wound, don’t worry,” Dr. McCracken said. “From what you told me when we met the first time, the damage you suffered won’t have impaired your kidney functions. What we’re looking for is different, something like diabetes, and you’ve told me there’s no history of that in your family.”

  “What about side effects?” Colin asked. Hernán hadn’t even thought to wonder, but the doctor shrugged.

  “You might have some nausea for a few days. That’s pretty much it. You have to remember the drugs are the latest results of thirty years of research. We’ve learned so much. As long as you’re able to take the antiretrovirals and stick to the regimen, we’ll likely be able to get your viral load down to undetectable levels in a matter of weeks.

  “Now, after all that, I expect you need time to absorb and process everything. We’ll just have Nina draw blood and then I’m sending you home with some materials to read. Be careful about the internet. There’s as much wrong information out there as right. Come back in three or four days and we’ll look at the results and start on the regimen. We can go over any questions you have when you return. Anything else for me right now? No? Wait for Nina in the examining room please, and then talk to Frank at the desk about your next appointment.”

  Colin looked as if he wanted to ask a question but he didn’t. Hernán stood with a shaky breath. The words thirty to forty thousand dollars reverberated in his head. Later, he told himself.

  He shook hands and said, “Thank you, doctor.”

  “Please call me Chris. I suspect we’ll see a lot of each other in the near future.”

  Hernán nodded and followed Colin to the reception area. He was feeling numb from the information overload, the remains of the tranquilizer and Colin yelling at him. He remained wrapped in sadness, grief and worry, but what surprised him most was, somewhere in the morass, he also felt a faint stirring of optimism.

  While Hernán talked to the receptionist, Colin pulled out his phone to call the office. He told his assistant, “I’m not coming back in today. Will you let Maryanne know?” A pause to listen, and then he snorted. “Of course I’m being a coward. I’ve taken a lot of time off lately without notice.” Another pause. “Let her know I’ll make it up on the weekend and I’ll be ready for the Hill visits. Nothing else is pressing right now anyway.”

  He disconnected, knowing full well he’d get at least one snarky text from Maryanne before the day was over. Of course he was being irresponsible, but Hernán needed him. That took precedence.

  They both pulled on their autumn-weight jackets and left the office. Colin glanced at his phone; it was nearly five o’clock. “Do you feel like having a drink somewhere? Or an early dinner? We were planning to go out tonight anyway.” Hernán bit his lower lip and looked up at him from under his lashes. “What?”

  “I can’t believe how calm you are about this,” Hernán said finally. “It seemed like the end of the world for me, but you just take it in stride.”

  Colin gripped his elbows and tugged him out of the stream of pedestrians. He leaned in slightly so as not to be overheard. “Listen to me, Hernán. I’m not taking this lightly. I can imagine this must devastate you. But I also know a lot of people living with HIV. Maybe you haven’t been around that enough, and you’ve only seen the ravages of the disease. But what I’ve seen gives me hope. Until you wrap your mind around it, I’ll hope enough for both of us.”

  “I lo
ve you,” Hernán blurted out, and then looked down at the sidewalk. “That isn’t fair for me to say.”

  Colin pulled him into a hug and sighed. “Oh Nán. You can say it to me every hour upon the hour and I’ll never get tired of hearing it. I just hope you mean it.”

  Hernán leaned back. “Why do you say that?”

  Because you were so distant yesterday, after the best night of my life. Because you didn’t want to look at me, or touch me, or share a bed. Colin looked around, aware of the number of people. “Look, let’s grab a drink in this bar I know, and then we’ll decide later about dinner.”

  He led Hernán to a nearby hotel with a nice cocktail lounge he’d visited many times with congressional staffers and others he was trying to lobby. Hernán looked nervous as Colin guided him through the marbled hotel entrance and into the wood-paneled lounge.

  A pianist in one corner played softly. A few patrons sat at the bar, while men and women in suits occupied several clusters of leather club chairs, having a drink as they performed the usual professional dance. Colin found two chairs facing each other across a cocktail table, a little distance away from any others.

  Ivan, a flirty and handsome young waiter with Slavic features who had served Colin many times before when he brought in guests, hustled over moments later. “Mr. Felton. It’s nice to see you again,” Ivan said with his Eastern European accent prominent. Colin suspected the accent was deliberate to make him seem more exotic.

  “What can I get you gentlemen?” Ivan flicked a glance at Hernán, and then took a slower second look. His eyes rounded.

  Colin was hardly surprised. No matter how big the tips he left, Ivan still ignored the plain-looking Colin for the stunningly handsome Hernán. He was about to answer when Hernán growled at Ivan, “My boyfriend will have a Grey Goose and tonic, with lime. An IPA for me.” He glared until Ivan hustled away, and when he looked back, Colin fought a smile. “What?”