by J P Barnaby
“Do you really have to do this now?” Jude asked and put his hand on Ben’s chest. Ben put a hand over his and held on.
“Jude, it’s okay. Ask your questions, officer,” Ben said and waited. The officer flipped a page in his notebook and began.
“Can you tell me where you were coming from?”
“I was coming from a club… something… something about fire. Inferno, maybe,” Ben said with a glance at Jude, who didn’t show any sign of recognition. He didn’t know how he’d get through the questions without giving away all of his secrets to Jude, especially if the officer asked about the club. The cop nodded and wrote down his answer.
“Do you remember the accident?” he asked gently.
“She was texting, the chick in the Escalade. I’d seen her swerve a little just a few minutes before that, but when she pulled up next to me on the left, she was paying more attention to her phone than the road. I tried to push past her, but she changed lanes right into me. I cut right and laid the bike down trying to avoid her.” Ben’s entire body shuddered as he remembered the feeling of his body scraping against the pavement. His arm caught on the bike, but his leg was wedged between the bike and the ground. God, he’d laid there for what felt like forever, bleeding out on the concrete waiting for help to come. He’d never felt that kind of pain.
The cop glanced at Jude, and Ben wondered what exactly he would ask next.
“Maybe we should continue this alone,” he said, and Jude straightened up in his chair.
“No, I’m not leaving,” Jude argued.
“It’s okay, he can stay,” Ben said with a sigh. He was going to ask about the club.
“When the paramedics brought you in, they said you were delirious, talking about… about being in a cage,” he said and let the statement hang in the air. Jude’s eyes widened and he stared at Ben.
“The friend I was with at the club, his name is Kage,” Ben explained in the calmest voice he could find as he tried to reassure Jude. Maybe they didn’t know about what happened at the club. But the cop’s next words shot through that theory.
“The ER staff also found burns on your back inconsistent with the accident. They reported some kind of flammable substance on your skin and evidence of a sexual assault. Is there anything you want to tell me about that?” he asked just as Jude got up out of the chair next to Ben’s bed and went to the window, like he just couldn’t stand the sight of Ben any longer. He had to be honest or the cop wouldn’t believe his version of the accident. With a sigh, he explained.
“Kage and I were doing a demonstration on fire flogging. The accelerant came off on my skin during the demonstration. I hadn’t had a chance to shower. The burn on my shoulder came from that same demonstration. I can give you Kage’s number or you can call the club and ask for Justin to confirm. He’s the owner. He booked us for the demonstration.” Ben tried hard not to look at Jude, but his eyes were drawn there anyway. His friend’s face was pale, and he appeared to be holding the window ledge for support. Ben had never wanted Jude to find out about Kage, especially not this way. He wondered how long it would be before Jude asked him to find someplace else to live. “And there was no assault. Kage and I had sex in the office after the demonstration.” He couldn’t meet Jude’s eyes. He just couldn’t.
“I’ll confirm that with the club, but it looks like it doesn’t have anything to do with the accident. Is there anything else you wanted to add?”
“No, things get pretty fuzzy after the paramedics got there. I don’t remember the ER or anything until I woke up here. They said I had surgery to repair bleeding in my brain and that’s why things are hard to remember.” Ben looked over at Jude again as the cop closed his little notebook.
“I think I have what we need for now. Hopefully Hector has gotten in touch with your folks. We’ll have a report on the accident for your insurance company and the DA’s office. Here is my card if you think of anything else,” the officer said, and set his business card into Ben’s outstretched hand. With a slight tilt of his head, the cop bade him farewell and left Ben and Jude in the uncomfortable silence of the tiny hospital room.
Seconds stretched into minutes as he waited for Jude to say something, anything about what he had just said to the cop. Jude’s arms were wrapped around himself and Ben’s heart ached. The fear bubbled up in him like acid as he waited for his friend’s condemnation. All he could think about was that morning, the one that nearly ended their friendship. He wouldn’t be able to stand losing Jude. Jude was his lighthouse in the storm, a warm, friendly light that always brought him home.
“Jude….”
“What is fire flogging? Is it what it sounds like?” Jude asked, unmoving, unflinching in the face of his friend’s pain, but his broken voice gutted Ben’s soul. He couldn’t think of anything to say, anything that would take the horrible hollow sound out of Jude’s tone, so he agreed. Whatever Jude imagined was probably close enough to the truth.
“And the marks I saw under your shirt the night you told me about your sister?”
“I had a session that night with Kage. It helps me to function.”
“You mean, you let him fuck you and… and beat you. What do you mean it helps you to function?” he asked, finally turning away from the window. It took every bit of Ben’s will not to look away. He needed to Jude to understand.
“The physical pain Kage gives me hurts less than what’s inside. If I focus on the physical pain on days like that, I can get through the heartache without losing myself to it. I don’t expect you to understand….”
“No, I don’t understand. I don’t get why you would want someone to hurt you.” Jude’s voice cracked. “I’d never hurt you.” Ben didn’t know what to say to that. He wanted to argue, to explain it more clearly, but the hospital room phone rang at that moment. Jude walked over to grab it, but Ben just shook his head. He didn’t want to deal with anyone else right then, and he had a strong suspicion it would be either Kage or his mother. Kage was going to give him hell, and his mother would want him to come home.
“How are you feeling?” Jude asked once the phone fell silent. Concern furrowed his brow, as he pushed the rolling side table away from the bed and helped Ben sit up a little higher.
“I think the drugs are masking a lot of the pain. It’s like listening to the radio through headphones, but ones that are sitting on the table instead of your head. I can feel it, but it’s dull and far away.” Ben didn’t know if he was making any sense because the drugs also made him floaty and stupid. Jude nodded, so he seemed to understand. God, he felt so dizzy.
Ben meant to close his eyes for just a minute to clear the throbbing behind his lids, but the accident, the pain, and the drugs were too much for his system to take. He fell asleep with Jude’s hand clasped firmly in his and felt safer than he had in four very long years.
Five
GUILT CREPT into Jude’s bones as he called Andy for his second sick day. Only once in his entire career had he ever called in for consecutive days, and that time he’d been in the hospital to have his gallbladder out. His heart ached at the thought of leaving Ben alone and vulnerable. In the end, he couldn’t do it. Of course, the fact that he’d been sleeping in the recliner they dragged in for him and living off rancid cafeteria food didn’t make him want to run right out to the office and listen to Dennis. The senior staff position didn’t seem as important when he looked down and saw the jagged tears in Ben’s skin.
A harsh breath, almost a sob, caught in his throat. He’d been so fucking close to losing Ben. Jude ran his hand slowly down Ben’s arm, just visible over the blankets, and his throat closed around the tender feeling welling in his chest. He’d been in love with Ben for almost three years. Ben planted the seed, and Jude had watched as it took hold in his heart and grew into a love that nearly overwhelmed him.
The phone in Jude’s pocket vibrated and he pulled it out.
Are we still on for dinner tonight?
Shit. He’d completely forgotten
about his standing dinner date with Susan. They talked and texted several times a week, but once a month Jude took his sister out to dinner because he wanted them to stay close. It was just them now. Sometimes, Ben joined them for dinner because Susan loved his laughter and light, just as Jude did. It caused him physical pain to type out his response. He should call her, but he didn’t want to walk into the hall and have Ben wake up alone.
I can’t make it. Ben was in an accident Tues night. He’s in the hospital.
Jude half expected his phone to ring, but it just buzzed again with another text.
Is he going to be okay?
The sigh came out long and low. The doctor had been by just a few minutes before to tell him they were still watching Ben’s injuries closely. He had symptoms of swelling, which raised the pressure inside his head. They were concerned about having to go back in and relieve it with another surgery. He didn’t want to scare Susan with the reality of Ben’s condition, but neither did he want to give her false hope.
He has a head injury that they are watching. The doctors are hopeful he’ll be okay.
It was the best he could offer, especially since his hands shook so bad he’d nearly dropped the phone. More than anything, he wanted to ask her to come and be with them. During their mother’s illness, Susan’s calm reassurances, just her presence, made it bearable. God, he couldn’t decide which situation had been worse, hearing that his mother had cancer or that the man he loved had had his head busted on the highway.
Where?
Mercy.
I’ll be there after work. Italian?
Tears welled in Jude’s eyes making the screen blur as he answered.
Thank you. I love you.
I love you too.
AROUND TWO Thursday afternoon, as the nurse changed the IV administering Ben’s pain medication, the door of the hospital room opened. Jude turned, half expecting to see Susan and a bag of food. Instead, he saw a small frightened-looking couple. The woman, who seemed almost afraid to come into the room, would have hit Jude at the shoulder. Her soft-brown eyes scanned the machines and equipment around the bed with true alarm as she reached up to brush graying brown hair back from her pale face. The man, bald except for a bit of mostly gray hair above his ears, kept his hands on the woman’s shoulders as if he were afraid she’d fall. They looked frail and shell-shocked, like disaster movie survivors.
Their eyes never left Ben’s face, so Jude guessed he was about to meet Ben’s parents.
They moved into the room slowly, and the more Ben’s mother saw of him, the more blood drained from her face. Jude shot out of the chair, having only let go of Ben’s hand when the nurse entered. He didn’t know if Ben was out to his parents, and certainly didn’t want to do that by accident. The woman glanced at Jude and tried to smile, but her eyes flicked back to Ben and she just couldn’t manage it. Instead, she stood next to the bed and straightened the blanket and then the sheet.
“Benjamin… my sweet boy,” she whispered and reached back blindly for her husband’s hand. Ben slept on, having just received another dose of narcotics. Jude grabbed a chair from under the window and brought it over for Ben’s father so they could sit next to their son’s bedside. It was only then, it seemed, that Ben’s mother noticed him there.
“Are you a friend of Ben’s?” she asked quietly, finally putting her hand on Ben’s arm as she stopped messing with his bedding. When she looked up, Jude could see a million questions in her eyes. He rested his arms on the footboard at the end of the bed.
“Ben and I are roommates, and friends. I’m Jude.”
“It’s very nice to finally meet you, Jude. Ben has told us about you. Well, as much as he tells us anything.” Her pained smile, and the look of helplessness she gave her husband, tore at Jude. She wanted so badly to be a part of her son’s life, and he held her, like he held everyone else, at arm’s length. “My name is Nancy and this is my husband, Gerald.” Ben’s father nodded once at Jude, his face impossible to read.
“It’s nice to meet you, too.” Jude couldn’t think of anything else to say. Ben hadn’t talked about his parents, so Jude didn’t know anything about them. Nearly four years in the same apartment, and they’d never talked about it. He forced himself not to play with the blankets at the foot of Ben’s bed. That wasn’t something roommates did. Instead, he watched Ben sleep and wondered when the room had gotten so warm.
“We stopped at the nurses’ station, but they couldn’t tell us anything. They said the doctor would be in later to talk with us. The police said he has a… a head injury?” She grasped Ben’s hand in hers and held on tight, like she could make him better by sheer will, by the force of a mother’s love. It made Jude long for his own mother with an intensity that took his breath. She’d been gone for almost a year and he missed her every single day.
“He has a broken arm, torn tendons in his knee, a nasty case of road rash, and yes, they surgically repaired a tear to an artery in his brain. The doctor told me the medical name, but I don’t remember. They’re watching for swelling in his head, but it hasn’t been bad. They won’t say it, but the way they talk, he seems to be out of the woods.” The last part was either an outright lie or wishful thinking, but he couldn’t stand the broken look on her face. It reminded him of his own broken heart. It would kill him to lose Ben, he knew it. It didn’t matter that Ben didn’t love him back.
She swallowed once, then twice, and finally gave up on speaking as the first tear fell down her cheek. Her husband’s hand squeezed her shoulder and she leaned her head against his as she succumbed to her fear and pain. A low sob escaped from behind the hand over her mouth, and Ben’s eyes opened slowly.
“Mom? Mama, I’m okay, please don’t cry.” The gravel in Ben’s voice, caused only partially by sleep, tore at Jude. Ben hurt because his mother hurt. He moved up the other side of the bed from Ben’s parents and put a hand over the bandages on Ben’s forearm just above the cast.
“I told her you’re going to be okay,” Jude said quietly. “She’s just worried about you.” You’re the only child she has left. He thought about how torn up Ben had been just telling him about Juliette’s death; he couldn’t imagine how it would feel to come face to face with your son’s mortality after losing your daughter.
The steady beating of Ben’s heart rate monitor provided the only sound in the room. Even Mrs. Martin’s soft sobs had quieted as Ben held her hand tightly in his. Ben’s eyes met his for just a moment before they closed again.
Jude envied Ben’s escape from awkward conversation.
WITH BEN in his parents’ capable hands, Jude finally left the hospital for the first time in days. After walking to his car at the very edge of the lot, he threw his backpack full of dirty laundry into the back seat and climbed behind the wheel. It took him several long minutes to remember to turn the key in the ignition. He simply stared out of the windshield at the maple tree swaying lazily over his hood. Inside the car, he couldn’t hear the breeze as it moved the dead brown and orange fall leaves in a slow wave, like water lapping across a shoreline. God, he wanted to head over to the lake and just sit on the sand and not think anymore. No fear for Ben, no stress about his job, no grief, just sand and water and cold sunshine. Instead, he turned the key and put the car into reverse.
The scenery blurred, one street into the next, while he drove back to the apartment. An old lady in a rusty Cadillac flipped him off after he changed lanes without signaling. Sitting up a little straighter in the seat, he forced himself to focus. He couldn’t help Ben if he ended up in the next bed because of carelessness. The entrance to the complex appeared out of nowhere, and he slammed on the brakes to make the turn. Thankfully, no one was behind him in the lane, so he could swing the little car into the drive and through the gate with a minimum of tire squealing. A kid, no older than ten, looked up from where he’d been playing out in front of one of the buildings. Jude waved and turned onto his street. Since he would be leaving again in a few hours, he parked in a space
right outside the apartment door rather than in their shared garage space. He wondered idly where the bike was, and if it was salvageable. He’d have to find out and put it in the garage for Ben.
The absence of clicking claws broke Jude’s heart. Ronnie from upstairs had used her spare key to the apartment to pick up Max after his frantic call on Wednesday morning. God, was that only yesterday? He wondered how Maxie was getting along with Ronnie’s behemoth, diabetic cat as he sorted through the list of things he had to do. The mail could wait—he’d go and pick it up from the box later. For the next hour, he just wanted to eat something that didn’t come in Styrofoam, lie down and catch a short nap, and then pack his bag for the weekend at the hospital. In his current condition, Jude couldn’t imagine Ben would come home anytime soon.
He took his shoes off, and the sound echoed through the empty space.
The heat kicked on, breaking the painful silence of their apartment. Jude’s eyes roamed helplessly around their living room. Everything, from the PlayStation under the television to the paperback on the table next to the couch made Jude think of Ben. His absence loomed in the empty stools at the breakfast bar, under the discarded blanket on the couch, and in the lack of laughter. A suffocating weight pressed against Jude’s chest as he swallowed past the burning lump in his throat. The first tear slid over his cheek and he sniffled, trying to stop the sobbing before it started. A buzzing sound caught his attention. It came again, like angry bees trapped in a metal pail.
His footsteps were loud as he followed the sound into Ben’s room. The empty unmade bed mocked him. Ben could have just gotten out of it, and Jude could almost hear him in the shower—except there was the sound again. After reaching down between the nightstand and the bed, he grabbed the little metal waste can and pulled it up. He sat down on the bed as he saw Ben’s cell phone dancing in the bottom of the can. Ben didn’t lose it in the crash, he probably couldn’t find it before he left for that thing Tuesday night. The phone trembled between his numb fingers as he turned it over and checked the display.
