by Todd Young
He turned the motor over and then heard Finn, knocking against the glass on the passenger side. He opened it for him and they took off.
“Don’t take the freeway,” Finn said.
“What?”
“Don’t take the freeway. Drive down Donnington and cross over the Crest Street bridge.”
Angel did as he said, his hands shaking. He wanted to ask what had happened, how the girl had died so tragically in a public place, how people had seen and then not seen, but all he could think of was home, and of getting there as quickly as possible.
When he pulled into the garage and heard the door close behind him, he laid his head on the steering wheel. For a moment there was darkness, and then the fluorescent lights flickered into life. Angel kept his eyes closed and tried to erase what he’d seen from his mind. Perhaps it hadn’t happened at all. He shut his eyes a little tighter, and then grew aware of Finn, silent beside him.
“You need to talk?”
“I need to—” Angel said, stopping as his mouth twisted in agony. The girl had been beautiful. She’d been killed openly, in a public place, and it had happened with as much fuss as if someone had dropped a salt shaker.
Finn helped Angel into the house and sat beside him on the sofa.
“You can get out. There’s a way out,” Finn said.
“Angie,” Angel’s mother said, calling from the bedroom. He got up automatically, to see what she wanted, and then stopped in the doorway, able to see her now as he had seen her when he returned from the institute, dead, dead for days, her hand stretched toward the phone.
Finn laid his hand between Angel’s shoulder blades.
Angel wheeled on him. “Don’t touch me — not there.”
“Is it tender?”
“Tender?”
“Does it ache?”
Angel shook his head, distracted. He turned back to the bedroom and saw what he should have seen, the neatly made bed, the room spotless in the glow from the hall.
“We need to talk,” Finn said.
Angel nodded and let Finn take his hand. Finn led him back to the living room and they sat side-by-side on the sofa again.
“You’re going to see it, things like that. The dark ones. They get away with anything, because they’re not really there. Not human — not in the sense that I’m human.”
“And I’m not human?”
Finn shook his head.
“If I’m not human, then what the fuck am I?”
“You’re an angel. In utero. And that’s the way it’s going to stay. You can live. You can hold down a job. But as far as normal life goes, you can forget it. You’re going to see …”
“What?”
“Everything. Everything hidden from the eyes of the mundane, you’re going to see. Your whole psychology, your whole perspective on the world has changed.”
“This is just crazy,” Angel said, standing up. “You’re telling me I’m an angel, in utero. How the hell do I get out of utero?”
“Well, the theory goes that you infect someone, and if the two of you are in love, or fall in love, then maybe there’s a way out. But you’d have to be prepared to infect someone first.”
“What?”
“That’s what Hunter had in mind. Like most of you guys, he goes around looking for love, looking for someone to infect and hoping, somehow, that it might turn into love — into pure love, I mean — something beyond the ordinary.”
“And what the hell are you? If I’m an angel in utero, what the hell are you, Finn?”
“I’m a rent.”
“A what?”
“A fault in the glass between the worlds. A fissure. Someone who ought to be normal, but isn’t. I’m a shard. I can see the darkness.”
“And how the hell did that happen?”
“It’s a long story.”
11
Finn slept on the couch and Angel spent the night turning what he’d been told over and over again in his mind. Any of what had happened since he’d left the institute — even after the peeling of his skin and the loss of his body hair, even after the changes in his bones and the alteration of his facial structure — any of this he could have accepted, and thought maybe, just maybe, that it was some simple disease, something unknown, and perhaps even benign. But what had happened in the diner had changed all that. He’d seen people, people in a brightly lit room all but ignore, but for an initial moment of shock, a murder that had taken place right in front of their eyes.
He’d never thought deeply. He’d never thought of his place in the world and what it all meant. He’d never given a second thought to God and religion, but now, if someone told him the Day of Judgment had come, he’d be more than inclined to believe it.
“You sleep okay?” Finn said, stepping into the kitchen the following morning.
Angel was fixing himself a bowl of Nutri-Grain. “Not really.”
“It’s not usually that bad. He was a twisted fuck, and he saw you, bright-eyed and innocent.” Finn paused, studying the expression on Angel’s face. “You get used to it,” he said, with as much kindness as Angel had ever heard from him before. Then Finn added, “They don’t die.”
“What?”
“The girl. She isn’t dead. They go somewhere. Some hang around. They’re reborn or something. I don’t know how it works, but there is some justice in it all. It’s just that, well, for you, you’re kind of stuck.”
Angel nodded, a little heartened, thinking of his mother and thinking she might really be alive in some sense. “And what about you?”
“I’ve been seeing this stuff since I was a kid. I was put in a psych ward when I was seven.”
“Seven?”
“Yeah. And that wasn’t the last time, as you can imagine. But by the time I was thirteen I had it pretty much figured out. I knew what to say and what not to say. And I’d learned, too, not to interfere.”
“Not to interfere?”
“Yeah. You see something. You see someone pull out a gun and shoot someone. You act like you don’t care. If the guy, being a dark guy, guesses you’ve seen him, and that you give a shit, then there’s a chance he’ll go for you. I learned that the hard way.”
“So it’s no club, then.”
“Hell no. You’re not one of them, and don’t ever think you are.”
Angel took a seat at the table and began on his cereal. It was a clear blue day, the middle of summer. In the yard, he could see the branches of the oak tree swaying in the wind. It’d be a good day for surfing, most likely, though he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle the sun.
He turned to Finn. “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“How come you’re helping me? How come you were outside my house?”
Finn closed his eyes.
“I mean, that’s a pretty stalkerish thing to do.”
Finn angled his head at the table and said, as though from a distance, “I like you.”
“You like me?”
“Yeah. I like you. You see, when you see this stuff, the dark stuff, every now and then you see the other stuff as well, the stuff people think the world’s made of, kind people, saints and so on. But most people, when you’re seeing things clearly, well, you realize they’re pretty selfish, and they aren’t very nice.”
Angel nodded.
“And so that first day in the institute, when we were in the waiting room, I noticed you shining, and I thought, yeah, a guy like that. If only I could have a guy like that.”
“Shining?”
“Yeah. You’ve got a glow. Even now, in the dark, it’s like there’s two warring factions within you. I can see it pulling at you, but you’re just not …”
“What?”
“You’re not going to go there. I can tell.”
“Go there?”
“Go out and fuck whoever. Bareback and tell them you’re clean and hang around and hope, once they’re infected, that it’ll turn into love. And then you’ll be …”
; “What?”
“An angel.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
Finn shook his head. “I’ve seen them. More than a few times. Never spoken to one, but they’re out there. They watch, and sometimes they intervene. But they’re on some different plane. They’ve gone beyond this place to some other realm. And some of them, well, you see them watching over a certain person, shadowing them.”
“A guardian angel?”
“I guess so.”
Angel made himself some coffee. Finn said he didn’t drink it and asked for tea if Angel had any, but he didn’t.
Finn shrugged. “So — I might go,” he said.
“Go?”
“Yeah. I figure you don’t want me hanging around. You’re off to New York, and — I mean — I can tell you don’t want me tagging along. I know I’m not — not much of a person.”
Angel frowned. “Where do you live?”
“In a flophouse.”
“You don’t have a place of your own?”
“No. I’ve got no work. No proper work now. Did some modeling for a while. But they always complain about my eyes, and really, I’m too short.”
Angel nodded. He bit his lower lip, but then said, “You can stay. I’ve got three weeks, and really, I’ve got no one to talk to, and seeing as how you know this stuff, you might be able to help me out.”
“Or not,” Finn said.
“Or not?”
“You don’t want to spend too much time with the dark. If you’re going to find someone, then you need to find someone capable of love, and I mean — love. Do you know what that means?”
“Love?”
Finn nodded.
Angel frowned and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t suppose so. I mean, I’ve never really thought about it.”
Finn scratched the back of his neck. He sighed, and stared at the table for a moment. Then he said, “If you love someone, it means you do anything for that person. It means you put them above yourself. It’s got nothing to do with desire. That’s lust. If you love someone, and they love someone else, then you’re happy for that person because they’re happy. Do you get what I’m saying?”
“I’m not sure I do.”
“Well, you need to think on it, because if you’re ever going to find this love, then it needs to be a person you’d do anything for — kill yourself for, if that’s what’d make them happy.”
Angel felt suddenly ill. Finn was too strange. Too intense. And the blond-boy look was so at odds with the person he was that it was difficult to see beyond his appearance to the sort of things he was capable of saying.
“Still,” Angel said, barely thinking about it. “I’d like you to stay. I’d like to have someone around — someone who doesn’t think I’m crazy.”
“You’re not crazy.”
Angel nodded.
“Well,” Finn said. “Why don’t I go get my stuff and set myself up on the couch?”
12
It was awkward. Finn’s clothes smelled, and he had everything crammed into a single backpack. He spent the first hour or so washing his clothes, and then cleaned the kitchen.
“You don’t know what this is like — luxury.”
“Where are your folks?”
“San Diego.”
“You don’t go and see them?”
“No. They think I’m crazy. My younger brother. They think I’m a bad influence on him, and when I came out and told them I was gay, my dad threw me out of the house. Haven’t spoken to them since, been almost three years now.”
“You never thought of college, getting a job?”
“Oh, yeah. My dad had it all mapped out. I was going to be a hotshot lawyer. I was pretty good at water polo at school. On the varsity team. And there was a chance of a scholarship, but even so, my parents were going to pay. They had a fund set up. But once the gay thing came out — that and all the trips to the psych wards — well, my dad said to get out and never come back.”
“You don’t phone? Your mom, I mean?”
“I tried it once, but he cut her off. And it’s not really much better with her. She wanted me to go into therapy, to do something about “the gay problem” as she called it. I figure I’m done with family — and this world, the way I live in it, well, I can be a bit of a fuck, if you want to know the truth. I’m not like you, and don’t ever think I am,” Finn added.
“You seem okay to me.”
“That’s the blond hair and the sweet face. Really, I can be a cruel fucker. Ask that Joel kid. He really got up my nose. I would have liked to — grind his bones into ashes.”
“Joel?”
“Yeah.”
“But you — I mean … everyone thought you were twins.”
“No. If only! If I could have some of what he’s got! That naive innocence. That thinking all’s well with the world and there’s not an unkind person in it. If I could see things that way, and somehow make it through life, then I guess I’d give anything.” Finn hesitated. “And he falls for Sean.”
Angel nodded. “True love, huh?”
“Yeah. I guess. I mean, that’s the sort of thing I’m talking about, but don’t expect to find it.”
“You speak like you’re seventy, like your whole life is behind you.”
“You don’t know what’s behind me. None of it is pretty, and yeah, I’ve seen too much. If I didn’t believe, if I hadn’t had it basically proven to me that you can’t, then I’d kill myself. But there’s no way out. You deal with your shit and sleep at the end of the day, and in the morning it’s not so bad. Then you wait for night so you can sleep again.”
“You on anti-depressants?”
“No.”
“Sounds like you could use some.”
“They fuck with my head, and really, Angel, what’s the point? Life’s shit. You deal with it.”
13
The following morning, Angel woke with a hard-on. He’d been in water, in a dream, entangled with Finn, Finn’s smooth skin sliding against his own. On the shoreline, on a beach, he’d brushed Finn’s hair away from his brow and kissed him on the lips, and at that moment, Angel came. He groaned as he woke, exhaling so heavily it was almost a cough. That had been — heavenly — he thought, and then frowned at the word.
He stretched, and the bones in his spine cracked as his chest expanded. Standing naked in front of his mirror, he seemed to have grown taller again. The line of his body appeared peculiarly graceful as he turned it one way and the other, his lower back dipping above his ass, his abs angling toward his hairless groin. His cock, after the orgasm, seemed to have some body to it again. It was full, and he felt, if Finn was in the room, that he could have taken him, taken him into his bed and what? Had sex? Was sex even possible anymore? Would a condom protect a potential partner? It would have been nice to know, as Angel always had been a top.
He sighed, drew a T-shirt over his head and walked into the kitchen in a pair of briefs. Finn was sitting at the table, reading Angel’s iPad. He jumped up, apologized, hoped Angel didn’t mind, but Angel said it was cool, of course he could use it. Their eyes met. Something passed between them, a flicker of recognition, and Angel suddenly felt that Finn had seen into his dream, or had by some means taken part in it. Now, there was tension between them. Somehow, something had started, when yesterday, thinking of Finn in that sense had been the last thing on Angel’s mind.
“Do you mind if I use the pool?” Finn said.
“Sure. Go ahead.”
“You going to come in?”
“I can’t stand the sun. It stings. And then I glow this pink color for hours afterward.”
Finn nodded. “You can rub some oil in first. Some baby lotion. But I don’t suppose you’ve got any hanging around.”
Angel laughed.
“You want me to go down to the store and get some?”
Angel stretched lazily and stared into the hazy yard. It was a warm day, the sun shining, glinting off the water in the swimming pool
, and it sure did look inviting. Water, sunshine, Finn, and baby lotion seemed suddenly impossible to say no to, and it’d sure be nice to stay at home in the shade and let Finn run down to the store but, “I can get it,” he said, turning away from the window and catching a glint of sunshine in Finn’s silver eyes.
“No — really. If you don’t mind me taking your car, I’ll get it while you grab something to eat.”
Their smiles faltered. Something had passed between them again, a look that had held for a little too long. Angel nodded and glanced away, thinking once again how very attractive Finn was.
But damaged.
And odd.
He told himself not to get too close.
As he was eating his Nutri-Grain, he glanced at the paper, and by the time he’d finished his coffee, Finn was back.
“I got some banana ice cream,” Finn said. “I’ve got this thing about that false banana taste. It’s like an addiction.”
Angel grinned.
Finn handed him an ice cream bar and Angel tore it open. It sure tasted good, though he didn’t think he’d had one since he was a kid.
“If you oil yourself up,” Finn said, “and leave it for fifteen minutes or so, then you shouldn’t have any problem with the sun.”
Angel nodded. He drew his T-shirt over his head, bunched it up, and was all at once embarrassed to find himself naked but for a pair of briefs, a red and orange pair that were particularly revealing. He hung his shirt over the back of a chair, slapped some oil onto his chest, and began to work it into his skin. He moved on to his arms, to his abs, to his thighs and lower legs while Finn watched in silence. When he’d finished, he straightened and turned to Finn a little nervously, because already his cock was beginning to bulge forward, stretching the cotton briefs.
“You want me to do your back?” Finn said, his eyes suddenly bright.
