by John Inman
Ned’s lips twisted into the faintest of smiles. His eyes settled on Joe, and Joe sat mesmerized by the sweet intensity in them, their gentle burning light.
“It just felt right. It—it felt like I had been hanging around all these years, vamping to the music, waiting for fate to make use of me in some way I hadn’t figured out yet. But then today, lying under the weight of you, Joe, being possessed by you like that… it was beautiful. When you slid inside me, it was like I suddenly knew who I was. Like what had been missing was suddenly there. There was pain, but it only lasted a minute. When the pain receded, there was only you. Filling me up. Using me to please yourself. And pleasing me at the same time. It was—unexplainable. You were the missing piece I’d been waiting to find my whole life, Joe. You made me whole. You made me complete. I thought I would be terrified after what happened to me before. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t scared at all, Joe. Not with you.”
Joe reached over and took Ned’s hand, pulling it gently away from the scar and laying it on the table, cradled between both of his. He slid his thumb over the hair on Ned’s forearm, then circled Ned’s slim wrist with his fingers just to feel that he held Ned safely in his grasp. That neither one of them could get away.
Joe’s eyes flicked to Ned’s scar. “Have you really been with no one since that happened? Was I honestly the first?”
Embarrassed, Ned gazed down at their hands. “Yes. Yesterday and today. They were both firsts.”
Joe stared at the simple openness in Ned’s gaze, the light of pure truth in his pale blue eyes. “Was it worth the wait?” he asked in a breathless hush. “I know it was for me, but was it for you too? Was it—what you hoped it would be?”
“No,” Ned said with the tiniest shake of his head. A fire rose in his eyes. In the fading light, they shone like embers. “It was more. It was everything. Most of all, it was you, Joe. Just you. Wanting me. And that made it perfect.”
Joe brought Ned’s hand up to his lips and laid a soft kiss to his palm. When he did, Ned stroked his cheek with a fingertip. “I still want you,” Joe said on a sigh.
Ned smiled. “I know you do. I can feel it.”
Joe’s eyes slid back to the tousled hair hiding Ned’s scar.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” he said, his voice frail. “I’m sorry you missed so many years of being who you really are.”
“Don’t be,” Ned said. Again, his gaze was focused, determined. “It was worth the wait.”
“Why, Ned? How can you say that?”
“I can say it because waiting for me at the end of all those years was you. And this morning, feeling you inside me, knowing I was pleasing you, it made me realize I had come full circle. I went from being a sixteen-year-old kid, interrupted just as he was discovering himself, to a full-grown man who finally found himself in the arms of someone who really cared. You, Joe. You care for me. You have no idea what an astonishing thing that is to me.”
Ned sucked in a quaking breath. His gaze slid from Joe’s face. He looked uncertain suddenly, as if he thought maybe he’d said too much.
Joe pulled Ned’s hand to his mouth and rested his lips against it as he spoke. “Don’t ever be ashamed to look at me. Please. Don’t ever turn your eyes away after you’ve shared yourself with me.”
“I’m sorry.”
Joe offered him a sad little smile. “Don’t ever be sorry either. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“Don’t I?” Ned asked.
“No. Not with me.”
Joe dragged his chair closer to the table just to get an inch or two nearer to Ned. He rummaged through his brain for a second, trying to organize his thoughts, trying to find the exact words he wanted to say. While he did that, Ned waited patiently, stroking Joe’s cheek again. Ned’s eyes never once left Joe’s face, and there was not a single moment that Joe was not aware of their gentle blue fire settling over him.
“I’ve waited too,” Joe muttered, letting his voice escape on a desperate rush of air. “I lost faith in people a long time ago. I’ve spent my life not wanting to be close to anyone. I’ve never wanted to let them in. I’m not like other people, I guess. I like being alone. I like being by myself.”
Here, Joe lost his momentum. His words floundered before he finally discovered the truth of what he was really trying to say. And even he didn’t know it was the ultimate truth until he heard it with his own ears.
“I never felt lonely until the day I met you. Outside. On your front step. I’ll never forget that day. I’ll never forget how you looked that day. I’ll never forget how my heart hammered inside my chest when we shook hands for the first time. How your skin felt on mine. How suddenly I wasn’t as bulletproof as I always thought I was.”
He released Ned’s hand and reached up to slide his thumb through Ned’s hair until he felt the hard flesh of Ned’s scar beneath his touch.
“This scar,” Joe said, “is not who you are. You’re so much more than this. And now that you’re with me, I’m so much more than I ever was too. I think we were both scarred, Ned. I think maybe we were both broken people. I think maybe we would have stayed broken if we hadn’t found each other. I also think….”
Ned leaned in, waiting, his eyes bright and alive. There were tears standing in them again. He didn’t ask the obvious question; he simply waited for the answer to come, as if he knew Joe would give it to him when he was ready.
Joe’s fingers slid from the scar and brushed across Ned’s tender cheek and its pale sprinkling of downy hair. “I also think… I love you,” Joe said softly. “I think I’ve loved you since that very first day when I saw you standing by your door.”
Joe watched as Ned closed his eyes, squeezing a tear free. It spilled over his bottom lash and slid across Joe’s hand, forging a delicate path down through the dark hair on Joe’s forearm. The luscious, tickling heat of it sent a chill through Joe.
“You don’t have to say these things,” Ned whispered. “You don’t have to make a commitment to me. I’m happy to be with you either way. With or without promises.”
Joe’s breath caught. He fought the will to weep, to cry out, to laugh out loud, at himself, at the world, at everything. “I didn’t say what I said for you, Ned. I said it for me. I said it because I couldn’t go on not saying it.” He took a deep breath to calm himself. “And I said it because it’s true. In fact, I think it’s maybe the truest thing I’ve ever said.”
Ned’s lips trembled as he formed the words. “Then, you love me?”
“Yes,” Joe said, so innocently believing of the answer he gave that the clamoring of his heart suddenly quieted, his pulse slowed. An unexpected calmness settled over him.
They sat motionless, staring into each other’s eyes.
“I’ve never been loved before,” Ned whispered into the hush.
“No,” Joe softly replied. “Neither have I.”
IT WAS strange getting ready for work in the tomblike silence of an apartment devoid of electricity. The juice hadn’t come back on yet, and that was starting to worry Joe. Through the course of the long day, the light outside had progressively dimmed as well. The red haze was so thick and heavy now, it lay like a film before the eyes. More than once Ned and Joe found themselves standing at Joe’s front window trying to see across the lawn outside. Trying to spot the street. Trying to discern the landmarks they knew so well. The palm tree on the corner. The big blue mailbox on the sidewalk out in front of the building. The movement of traffic that always before had thrummed up and down Sixth Avenue in an endless procession. Not only could the cars not be seen, even the sound of them was lost in the haze. Or maybe there was no traffic at all. From where they stood, it was impossible to tell.
Whatever was going on out there, it was goddamn creepy. Joe knew that much.
Visibility was now reduced to ten feet or less. The haze was like a blood-soaked curtain, blocking everything.
“Don’t worry,” Ned whispered at his side. “We’ll get to the zoo and everything wi
ll be all right.”
It was almost time to go. They were dressed, Joe had his flashlight, and they were wearing the heaviest coats they owned because not only was the day outside a big red mess, it was also freezing cold. The temperature had continued to drop. And since the power was out, the apartment was cold too. He and Ned had spent most of that day burrowed under the covers in Joe’s bed, snuggled against the icy air, talking quietly, falling deeper in love.
And now, standing at the front window, looking out with Ned at his side, Joe knew he was a different person. Every time he gazed at Ned’s face, or felt Ned’s hands on him, or simply heard Ned’s laughter shimmering through the unholy twilight, he knew he finally understood what being in love was all about.
It was a wondrous discovery. Wondrous and beautiful.
“Maybe we shouldn’t go,” he said now. He cast another worried glance through the window, more hesitant by the moment. “God knows what’s going on out there. Maybe we should stay here. Barricade ourselves. Lay low.”
This time it was Ned who pulled Joe into an embrace. He pressed his lips to Joe’s throat and gave his Adam’s apple a playful nip. “We have to take care of the animals. You said so yourself.”
“I know.”
“We both have to keep working. This red shit isn’t going to last forever. We don’t want to come out of it unemployed. That wouldn’t be a very good way to start a life together.”
“I know.”
“And most of all, I want to see the zoo. I’ve never been able to afford to go. I’ve never been there.”
At that Joe grabbed Ned’s shoulders and pushed him far enough away to look at his face. “Well, we can’t have that! Why didn’t you tell me? I work there. I have free passes.”
Ned grinned but still managed to look embarrassed. “I figured, but I didn’t want to ask.”
“Dumbass,” Joe muttered, causing them both to laugh.
Their laughter slowly died as Joe peered once again through the living room window. “When we go, I want you to stay close to me.”
“I will.”
“In fact, hold on to me like you did before. If we get separated, we may never find each other again.”
“I promise,” Ned said. “I’ll be a barnacle. I won’t let go.”
“A barnacle.” Joe smiled. “I like the sound of that.”
Ned blushed. “So do I.”
A moment later they were out the door and standing in a world that was as alien as anything they had ever experienced in their lives.
Somehow, out in the open, their vision seemed even more limited than it was when they were standing at Joe’s window. And the air was infinitely colder. They could see their breath. They stood on Joe’s front steps and listened for a minute. They couldn’t hear much of anything. No traffic, no dogs howling, no birds.
As for the silence of the birds, it was easily explained. The ground was covered with their corpses. A few still flopped around, as if beating broken wings, but most lay either dead or too weary to move.
“Poor things,” Ned said, clutching Joe’s hand.
Joe hardened his heart, tearing his eyes from the unfortunate creatures. Stepping off his front step, pulling Ned along beside him, he said, “Let’s go. Stay close.”
“Yes,” Ned said, more to himself than to Joe. “I’m here. I’m close.”
Seconds later they had disappeared in the crimson mist. Only moments into their trek, Joe heard the sirens. They were far away and numerous. So numerous they seemed to fill the air but buried deep within the red muck. Muted. Like a niggling itch below the skin. Down by the bone. Down where you almost couldn’t feel it at all.
Then Joe smelled smoke. Like the distant keen of sirens, it was buried deep, hidden within the haze, and suddenly Joe understood. A great pall of black smoke had blended with the red air. The smoke hadn’t been there before. It had fallen over the city sometime while he and Ned were secluded in his apartment. In his bed. Falling in love.
On the southern horizon, Joe saw a faint gleam of light trying to pierce the haze. The gleam was more yellow than the vermilion shadow it lay buried in. The colors of blood and light blended into a palette of heat, almost like a raging sunrise. Bright and hot and devouring. For the first time, Joe thought he could discern the crackling of flames in the distance. The crackling of flames and the cries of a thousand terrified voices. Or were those noises simply inside his head?
And then, like a theater curtain opening wide to reveal the stage behind, Joe suddenly saw the truth. He finally understood.
“It’s downtown!” he hissed, clutching at Ned, pulling him close. He pointed at the swatch of glowing yellow light radiating across the horizon. Toward the crackle of flames and the tumult of voices warring in the distance. They were real voices. They weren’t imaginary at all.
“It’s burning!” Joe cried. “The city, Ned. Downtown. It’s on fire!”
JOE TUGGED Ned down the street, down the hill, in the opposite direction from where they were supposed to go. Away from the zoo. Away from where Joe said they’d be safe.
Ned stumbled, trying to keep up. “Where are we going? What about work, Joe? What about the animals?”
A figure loomed out of the mist in front of them. A man—no, two men. They didn’t appear to be armed or even particularly threatening, but clearly Joe wasn’t taking any chances. With a shush to keep him silent, Joe steered Ned off the street, and they ducked among the bushes next to a chain-link fence that separated the park from an eroded, trash-filled gully where homeless people lived and where God knows what went on at night. Joe tugged Ned along between the bushes and the fence. He didn’t slow his pace. He was still heading downtown, not more than a mile away. Toward the weird glowing light and the smoke. And whatever the hell was happening among the screams and the sirens and all the racket.
As they drew nearer, the cries of terrified people grew louder too. Joe tugged Ned harder, trying to increase their speed.
But Ned wasn’t having it. He suddenly dug in his heels and stabbed his fingers through the wire fence, grabbing on, pulling Joe up short, refusing to go another step. He tugged at Joe’s coat, forcing him to turn around and look at him.
“This isn’t safe. Why are we doing this?”
The air was freezing, but a sheen of sweat peppered Joe’s forehead. His eyes looked a little crazy. Somehow Ned couldn’t find a connection between the man who’d made love to him only hours before and the man he was staring at now.
Joe hissed his reply. “I need to know what’s happening.”
Ned gave him a shake. “No, you don’t. Whatever it is, there’s nothing you can do about it. We have to go where we’ll be safe. We have to get behind the walls of the zoo. That’s what you promised me we’d do. We can hide there, you said. We can help with the animals. We can—”
“Ned….”
“Please! I can’t lose you! I can’t let anything happen to you. It would kill me, Joe. Don’t you understand that? Whatever is happening downtown is bound to be dangerous. Why the hell are you dragging us into the middle of it?”
Finally, the fire in Joe’s eyes softened. He glanced back over his shoulder at where the sirens and the flames and the screams could still be heard. But he turned back to Ned just as quickly, and Ned could feel his gaze burning into him. Joe’s eyes were no longer hot and furious like the heat seeping through the haze from the fires but once again warm and caring and kind.
“You said you’d protect me,” Ned softly said. “Remember?”
Joe nodded. “I remember.”
Suddenly, from down the hill, came a loud explosion. The glow of light that couldn’t quite pierce the red haze brightened in a furious flash. Frantic voices cried out all the louder. Panicked. Terrified. Ned thought they sounded like firefighters battling a blaze, but he couldn’t be sure. Maybe it was just horrified onlookers. Whatever and whoever it was, Ned knew he didn’t want to be a part of it, and he didn’t want Joe to be a part of it either. Life was dangerous
enough right now. What was the point of throwing themselves into the middle of even more danger? The smoke was so thick now, he could barely breathe anyway. What would it be like if they got closer to the inferno?
“Come on,” he pleaded, tugging again at Joe’s coat. “We have to get out of the open. We have to get farther away from the fire, not closer to it. We have to get behind the zoo walls where you said we’d be safe. If you love me, please!”
Joe stepped closer and pulled Ned into his arms. “Yes,” he said, his lips in Ned’s hair. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just got a little… nuts.”
Ned tried to smile. “The world is nuts enough. You don’t have to join in.”
Even as they cowered by the rusted fence, the encroaching darkness deepened yet again. Ned didn’t know if it was the smoke or whatever was happening in the heavens that caused it, but he could see on Joe’s face that he was aware of it too. In a matter of minutes, their visual range had deteriorated even more. Ned could hardly see five feet in front of him now. And the only good part of that was that no one could easily see them either.
It was time they moved. Time they left the street and headed into the park. Down the trails. Over the zoo’s back fence and into the compound where they’d be safe. Where Joe had promised they would go all along. Evening was coming on. On a normal day, this was the time Joe would be heading to work and Ned would be heading home, his own workday ended. Of course, this was anything but a normal day. Or a normal world.
“We should check on Mr. Wong,” Ned said. “Before we strike off down the trail, we should veer past the deli and make sure he’s okay. He should still be there. Maybe the police came. Maybe he’s in need of his two witnesses about now.”
“You’re right,” Joe said. “With the phones down, he can’t reach us if he needs to. It’s only a few minutes out of our way. Let’s go.”
Relieved, Ned mumbled, “Thank you,” and moments later they were retracing their steps back up Sixth Avenue. They didn’t run, but they kept up a good pace, as much to get Joe to work on time as to hopefully slip past any threats they might find waiting for them along the way. After spotting the two men earlier, Ned supposed Joe had learned his lesson. Ned followed obediently along as Joe steered them once again away from the streets and off the sidewalks, making sure they were well hidden among the bushes and trees along the outer edge of the park.
