Sky Full of Mysteries

by Rick R. Reed

  Tommy nudged him. “You should go. Unless you need me to help you get in there?” He nodded toward the emergency room entrance.

  “I’m a big boy. I think I can manage.” Cole hopped out of the car and started up to the sliding doors, weaving around an ambulance that had just pulled up, red lights whirling.

  He let the EMTs go in first with their gurney. An old woman wearing an oxygen mask lay upon it in a floral-print housedress. Her rheumy gray eyes looked terrified, and Cole’s heart went out to her.

  When their gazes met, he mouthed the words, “You’re gonna be okay.”

  He turned to see Tommy’s car round the corner at the end of the street. Would he ever see him again? Cole was already pretty sure he was a good guy, so he didn’t think he had much, if anything, to worry about.

  What a strange way to meet a guy. I wonder if he’s gay. I wonder if he’s single.

  What’s wrong with me?

  Cole headed inside, gaze trained on the admission desk.

  LATER, COLE lay on a bed in the large ward of the emergency room. A nurse had earlier pulled the curtains on either side of him closed so he’d have some privacy. He wished Tommy was there and wondered if he’d truly be waiting when he was done.

  A very young doctor pushed one of the curtains aside and stood next to Cole’s bed, smiling down at him. He looked like he was still a teenager, with pale brown hair, freckles, and nerdy glasses that Cole ached to make fun of.

  “I understand you took a bad tumble off your bike.”

  “Who are you? Doogie Howser?” Cole asked, referring to the old Neil Patrick Harris sitcom he’d only seen in reruns.

  The doctor laughed. “Believe it or not, you are not the first person to have said that. Just to reassure you, young man, I was thirty-two on my last birthday and am a fully licensed MD. In spite of my appearance, I know a lot, particularly about head injuries.” Without pause, he took a small flashlight from his lab coat and peered into Cole’s eyes, holding the lids open as he did so.

  “Can you tell me what happened to you?”

  Cole was surprised. He remembered the details of his accident. Just like that, at the prompt, the memory appeared—Tommy running out in front of him unexpectedly, the bright clean white of his tank top against his olive skin, the very, very brief nylon running shorts. The back of his head as he looked south, seeing whatever the hell was going on down that way and completely missing a bicyclist hurtling toward him at high speed. Tommy was lucky he’d made it out of their first encounter unscathed. He had Cole’s quick reflexes to thank for that! He gave the doctor a quick summary of what happened.

  “And what day is it?”

  “Tuesday, silly.” Cole grinned. “It’s my day off.”

  The doctor smirked. “Great way to spend it. Can’t say I’m glad you came to see us here.”

  The doctor asked a bunch of other obvious questions like where they were, who the president was, and how many fingers he was holding up.

  “I don’t think we need to do any X-rays at this point,” he said. “But if you find yourself getting a really bad headache, or vomiting, I want you to come back in. You can sleep, but I’d like it if you have a friend or something stay with you just to make sure you wake up normally. Cool?”

  Cole didn’t know who could stay with him. His sister, maybe? He shook his head. Elaine was in New York this week with her job. Whatever. “Cool,” he told the doctor.

  “We’ll just get you stitched up and on your way. I want you to take it very easy for the next couple of days. Nurse told me you most likely have a cracked rib too.”

  “Aren’t you gonna do something for that?” At the mention of his rib, Cole’s side started to ache with a dull throb.

  “Nothing much we can. It’ll heal, buddy.” The doctor pulled a tray toward the bed. Cole looked over to see all the supplies the doctor would need to stitch the gash in his eyebrow closed.

  “Gonna need to clean that up first. Here comes the water.” He squeezed cold water on Cole’s forehead and wiped it away before it could reach his eyes. He then grabbed a needle from the tray. “Gonna numb you up a bit before I start sewing.” He held the needle up to the light and squeezed the plunger. The needle squirted a little clear fluid into the air. Cole shuddered.

  “Ready?”

  Cole shut his eyes.

  DRESSED, AND with a Frankenstein-esque lateral row of black stitches cutting through his left eyebrow, Cole emerged into the waiting room. He glanced in a mirror over the magazine rack and was horrified. He looked like he’d been in a fight. No, he looked like he’d been in a fight and lost.

  The room, with its rows of oak-and-blue-vinyl chairs, magazine racks, and posters reminding people to wash their hands and get vaccinations, was filled with coughing, unsettled, and generally unhappy-looking people.

  Save for one.

  Tommy hadn’t noticed him come in yet. He sat in a corner, legs crossed, thumbing through an issue of People. Cole got it just then—the guy was Italian. Cole didn’t usually associate redheads with Italian heritage, but everything else about Tommy, including, duh, his last name and nose, spoke of a Mediterranean heritage.

  And then his rapidly returning memory sent him a download—he knew this Tommy D’Amico. Well, to use the term “knew” was a stretch, but he’d met him before. He flashed back to a few weeks ago when he was having breakfast with Elaine at a neighborhood diner and Tommy walked in, trailed by—oh my God—the woman who’d last seen Rory on the night he disappeared. Or at least the last they knew of.

  Too weird. He stared at Tommy, asking himself if he was sure this was the same guy. But it was. His mind said he might be wrong, but his gut was certain. And if Cole had learned one thing in his young life, it was that he could trust his gut. When he did, it never steered him wrong.

  He shook his head. What’re the odds?

  Gone was the numbness Cole had felt initially after the accident. Now he was just kind of wiped out and weak. There was a little guy with a tiny ice pick chipping away at his brain, right behind his eyes. Even though it was daylight out, he wanted nothing more than to just go home, pull a blanket over his head, and sleep for hours.

  And this new association? It just made him want to get away from Tommy, really. The guy, of course, had done nothing wrong, but just the taint of what had occurred hung over him, and for that, Cole didn’t know if he could stand to look at him. It was strange. It wasn’t fair. But it was the truth.

  He suddenly recalled the doctor’s advice that he should have someone with him to make sure he woke up okay. He’d kind of thought of asking Tommy to sleep over—in a platonic, safeguard kind of way. But now? Forget it. He supposed he didn’t have to follow the doctor’s advice to the letter. He’d just call Elaine and have her give him a wake-up call. If he didn’t answer, she could call his mom or 911.

  Cole thought it was kind of sad to realize he didn’t really have anyone who could come to stay with him. In the wake of Rory’s disappearance, he knew he’d shoved most everyone he cared about away so he could be alone, lick his wounds in private. He stopped near where Tommy was sitting, suddenly wishing he’d just left his bicycle and headed home.

  Tommy finally looked up from the magazine, and their eyes met. Tommy smiled. Yet Cole couldn’t find it in himself to return it. Tommy hopped out of his seat and gestured for Cole to sit, since every other chair was occupied.

  Cole sat.

  “How you doin’?” Tommy asked. His gaze drifted up to Cole’s stitches. The doctor had told him they’d look a lot less frightening after a day or two, when the redness and swelling went down. He could get them out in about a week. “You looked wiped, man.”

  “Yeah. I do feel really tired. Headachy.”

  “I would too. Again, I’m so, so—”

  Cole cut him off with an upturned hand. “Please don’t apologize again. As I said, it was an accident. I don’t blame you for it. I’m not mad. I’m not gonna sue. So calm the fuck down.” Cole smiled.

/>   “Well, I do feel bad. You ready to go home?”

  Cole sat up a little straighter. “You don’t have to do any more. I’ll just have them call me a cab, after I get things squared away with the billing folks.” As he uttered the word, Cole felt a chill go through him. How would he pay for this? When you worked less than full-time at a retail store, you didn’t get niceties like health insurance. Up until today, his young and fit self thought he really had no need for insurance. But wasn’t that how everyone thought? Until they needed it? He put a hand to his forehead. “God. I don’t have insurance.” He dropped the hand. “My parents will help me out, I’m sure.”

  Tommy stared down at him. “One, you are not calling a cab. Why do you think I waited for you? I’ll see that you get home. And I’ll unload your bike and bring it in for you too. It’s the least I can do. It would make me happy.

  “Two. Don’t worry about billing. I already took care of it.”

  “You did?” Cole asked.

  “Hey, I’m prelaw. I worry about things like lawsuits, so I was proactive and took care of things while you were getting yourself stitched up. And I’m a good guy. Yes, it was an accident, of course it was. But that still doesn’t change the fact that it was my fault. And I should pay for that. Not you.”

  “Can you afford it?” Cole blurted.

  Tommy laughed. “Let me worry about that.”

  Cole stared at the tile floor, feeling unaccountably depressed. Here was this handsome guy, hot body, sweet face, and he was really compassionate and kind to boot. A really good guy, it seemed. And yet he still wanted nothing to do with him.

  “Okay? Cole?”

  Cole looked up. Tommy was staring down at him, concern obvious in his eyes. Cole had to admit Tommy had a point. He was in no shape to get his bike out of Tommy’s car, load it into a cab, and then lug it down to the storage locker in the basement. For practical reasons alone, he should try to swallow his pride and allow Tommy to take him home.

  Allow him? Come on! Be grateful. “You sure you have time to do this?”

  “What if I said I didn’t?” Tommy put his hands on his hips.

  “Then I’d have one of those nice nurses over there call me a cab.”

  “You’re being stupid. Come on, let’s go.”

  And Cole stood to follow him out of the waiting room. He felt a nauseating paradox as he stared at Tommy’s back. One part was queasiness at the association he’d just remembered linked Tommy with his own personal tragedy, and the other was that he found, even in his current state, he was unable to keep his eyes off the rise and fall of the man’s ass.

  “THE PARKING gods are with me,” Tommy said as he pulled into a spot just a car length to the east of the entrance to Cole’s building. He turned to Cole. “Aren’t we lucky?”

  They were. Parking on Cole’s street was notoriously difficult, almost impossible. The fact that Tommy drove up and parked right outside the building was something to be appreciated only by a true city dweller. It was a small miracle.

  “Let’s get you in and settled.”

  “Okay,” Cole said softly. The fatigue he’d felt since the accident was now a wave crashing over him. He felt he could barely move. Getting out of the car, he realized why his grandpa, with his arthritis, groaned whenever he emerged from a vehicle. He felt like groaning too, but would not make himself a victim. He was certain if he voiced the pain he felt, Tommy would run around the car and help him emerge. That would just be too much and too embarrassing for words.

  He stood on the sidewalk, watching as Tommy unloaded the bike from his car. He smiled at Cole. “Where to?”

  Cole waved him away. “I can get it inside.” He knew he was letting his pride and his unreasonable distaste for this guy and his association hurt him. But he didn’t care. Once more, he just wanted to be alone. When had he gone from being a man who loved having people around him at all times to one who always wanted to be by himself? Oh, that’s right. The night the love of my life vanished into thin air….

  “I’m not gonna let you do that, buddy.”

  “But—”

  “No buts! Do you keep it in your apartment, or do you have storage somewhere? Or is there a rack? Maybe in the back?”

  Cole felt he had no choice. He simply groped in his pockets for his keys, pulled them out, and said, “This way.”

  AFTER THEY’D locked the bike up and headed back upstairs to the building’s courtyard, Cole said, “Well, thanks again. You really went above and beyond, and I appreciate it.” He tried to smile and thought he succeeded pretty well.

  “Ah, I did what anyone would do in my shoes.” Tommy looked around. It was late in the afternoon, and the air had turned chilly again. The sky had grown cloudier while Cole was in the ER. He could smell rain coming.

  “You’re a hard man to thank.”

  “Well, I should thank you for helping alleviate my guilt.”

  “Oh, please!” That statement actually elicited a laugh from Cole. “Do you have any bad traits at all?”

  “Running out in front of bicyclists?” It was Tommy’s turn to laugh. “And that’s just for starters.” Tommy toed the grass with the tip of his shoe and then looked into Cole’s eyes. Just that gaze, held for a little longer than what might be considered normal, answered Cole’s earlier question about whether Tommy was gay.

  Tommy asked, “Do you need anything else? Can I, uh, make sure you get in okay?”

  “You’re being really nice, and I appreciate it. But the building has an elevator. I think I’ll be okay.” Cole sighed. “I just want to sleep.”

  “Is that all right? I mean, didn’t you say in the car they said you had a mild concussion?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, isn’t it dangerous to go to sleep?”

  “No. It’s dangerous not to wake up.”

  Tommy looked hopeful. “You live alone?”

  Cole realized then that, while he knew who Tommy was, Tommy really had no recollection of their prior meeting. Cole almost blurted out that he lived with his boyfriend. But it had been over a month now, and the truth lay somewhere in a gray area, even though there were still two names on the lease.

  “Yes, I’m alone.” Cole thought he knew what Tommy was getting at—concern over his waking up normally in the morning. Or was it something else? He told him, “I’m gonna give my sister, Elaine, a call. She’s in New York this week with her work, but she can give me a wake-up call and check up on me in the a.m.”

  “I could do that too. Just give me your number.”

  “I don’t have anything to write with or on,” Cole said. “And I doubt you do either, not with those shorts.”

  A blush rose to Tommy’s cheeks. “Just tell me. I’ll remember.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, you’d be surprised at what I can remember.” He tapped his forehead. “Photographic.”

  Too tired to stand anymore, Cole plopped down in the grass. “Seriously? Then I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned anything about us meeting before.”

  Tommy joined him on the grass. “We did?”

  “Yeah. You met my sister, Elaine, too.”

  Tommy stared at him for a minute, and then Cole could see the tumblers suddenly click into place. “I thought you looked familiar!” Tommy exclaimed. “I just put it down to some actor I’d seen in the movies or on TV. You’re cute enough.”

  Yup, he’s gay.

  “So you remember now?” Cole asked.

  “I just needed the prompt.” Tommy frowned. “Your boyfriend….”

  “He’s still missing.”

  “God. I’m sorry. That sucks.” Tommy stared off, maybe looking at the sky, which was growing darker and cloudier by the minute. “Give me your number, Cole. I want to check on you in the morning. It’ll bug me if I don’t.”

  Cole let out a sigh and then recited his number. He didn’t really believe Tommy would remember it.

  They sat on the grass for a while in silence until a big, fat raindrop l
anded on Cole’s head, quickly followed by another, then another. Cole and Tommy hopped up off the grass at the same moment.

  “I better get inside,” Cole said.

  There was a flash of lightning, and then, a few seconds later, a long drumroll of thunder. Cole started toward the front door. But his conscience wouldn’t allow him to just leave Tommy out there in the rain, not when he’d been so nice to him. Yet he really wanted to be by himself. All he needed was a glass of water and a soft place to lie down.

  Cole forced himself to say, “You want to come up? Wait out the shower?”

  A bolt of lightning hit close, right on the pavement outside the building’s courtyard. Cole’s eyes widened. He could have sworn he smelled ozone. The peal of thunder that quickly followed was so loud it drowned out Tommy’s answer.

  Whatever it was, Cole grabbed Tommy’s arm and pulled him toward the front door. Once they were in the vestibule, Cole laughed. “Jesus, we were out there in that for, like, what, ten seconds? And we’re soaked!”

  “I would have been okay running in the rain,” Tommy said. “It’s just to my car.”

  “Cut it out. Your application for sainthood is hereby denied.” Cole pressed the Up button to call the elevator.

  “Seriously, I actually like it.”

  Cole nodded. “You like getting struck by lightning too?”

  “You sound like my dad.”

  The elevator doors rolled open.

  UPSTAIRS, COLE went into the bathroom and dried himself off. He caught a glimpse of himself in the medicine-cabinet mirror and was stunned all over again at his reflection. He’d definitely have a scar. He didn’t know how he felt about that, especially since it would be in such an obvious place.

  He headed toward the bedroom and threw a clean towel at Tommy as he went. “There you go. I’ll be right out.”

  In the bedroom, he changed into jeans and a T-shirt. He grabbed a pair of sweats out of the closet and another T-shirt from Rory’s shelf, feeling a hot twinge of guilt as he did so. But the truth was, Tommy was smaller than Cole and much closer to Rory in size. He heard his sister, Elaine, in his head: Rory’s not coming back for his T-shirts, sweetie. Cole shut his eyes. The thought pained him as much, if not more, than the throbbing ache at his temple.