In Flesh and Stone

by Hal Bodner

  “I could hardly miss it,” Charles replied, concerned. “Is that supposed to happen?”

  The two had been standing by Alex’s bedside, frightened and confused by their friend’s comatose condition and darting uncomfortable glances at the machines he was hooked to as they hummed and beeped. Dumbfounded, they’d watched the sheet covering the artist slowly rise at the groin, forming a little tent held up by his stiffening cock. There was no further movement until his entire body shuddered briefly, startling them. Then they watched fascinated as a damp patch of sticky fluid seeped through the cotton sheet and Alex’s dick slowly deflated.

  “Wherever he is,” Corey commented dryly while tapping the side of his own head with a finger, “at least we know he’s having a good time.”

  “What? What’s going on?” Joey strode through the door, quickly checking the machines that monitored both Tony’s and Alex’s condition. “Well?” he demanded, clearly expecting an answer and expecting it immediately.

  “He...uh…he came,” Corey told him, still in awe of what he’d just seen.

  “He came where?” Joey obviously misunderstood.

  “In his pants, actually. Or he would have if he’d been wearing any.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” The doctor was still confused.

  Corey sighed with exasperation at Joey’s obtuseness. “He shot a load. Popped his wad. Spuged. E-jac-u-lated.”

  “He did what?”

  “That isn’t normal, is it?” Charles wanted to know.

  “Normal,” Joey muttered under his breath while he was fussing with one of the medical charts. “He’s asking me about normal like I have any idea what’s going on in the first place.”

  “Is it usual,” Charles repeated, forcing himself to be patient, “for a comatose man to do that?”

  “Uh..no,” Joey said reluctantly. “I mean, I’m sure it’s happened before but...” He rounded on Corey. “He said these sex dreams, these hallucinations, were very vivid, right?”

  The redhead nodded. “He was absolutely convinced he and I had a three-way with some guy. It was so real to him that he thought I was putting him on when I said I didn’t know what he was talking about.”

  “I see.” Joey stood lost in thought while tapping a pen against the side of his jaw.

  “Well?” Charles prompted.

  The doctor’s attention came back to the room with a start. “The good news is, if he can do that, I’m hoping his nervous system isn’t damaged by whatever caused this. The tests all look good, but neurology is not an exact science. Not yet.”

  “And the bad news?” Charles wanted to know.

  Joey hesitated. “If this thing, whatever it is...is affecting him mind so strongly that he can, well, you know...”

  “Shoot,” Corey added helpfully and Joey grimaced with distaste at the crudeness of the remark.

  “Whatever. I’m just worried that...”

  “Yes?”

  “He could be going even deeper into his own mind. So deep that his body’s responding to stimuli that only exist in his imagination. If so...” Real pain filled the doctor’s eyes. “If so, he may never come back.”

  Charles and Corey had only a minute to digest what they were being told. Suddenly, one of the monitors attached to Tony started to buzz loudly and the edges of the screen began to flash scarlet.

  “Get out!” Joey yelled at them and the force of his voice and his panicked expression made even Charles obey without hesitation or protest at being spoken to that way.

  The couple stumbled to the door, gripping each other’s arms for emotional support, and in the doorway they were almost bowled over by two nurses and a technician bursting into the room with a cart holding a frightening array of equipment.

  “Just leave!” the doctor shouted at them again. “I’ll be out as soon as I can. Now go!”

  Without further hesitation, Charles and Corey moved out into the waiting area of the ICU to stand, futilely trying to assure each other that everything would be just fine in the end, while more nurses and orderlies came running down the hall and flooding into Tony and Alex’s room.

  CHAPTER 11

  It seemed like years had gone by and yet no time at all had passed before Alex knew who he was again. But that was the extent of his knowledge. The place he stood in was strange and unfamiliar. He had never been here before.

  It was a cavern, he supposed, but it was vaster than any cave he’d ever seen depicted on the Nature Channel or in National Geographic. He’d heard of places deep underground that were so humongous the roofs overhead could not be seen, of places so expansive that they formed their own atmosphere in the hollows of their cathedral ceilings. He’d never believed it was possible for such things to exist. He’d always thought the description was hyperbole, but he was definitely in such a place now.

  A massive plain of ebony rock spread out from his feet in all directions. At a distance of what seemed to be miles away, he could dimly make out a sparkle from the walls rising above his head. He didn’t know why, but he got the distinct impression they were made of natural crystal or perhaps some kind of dark glass. There was no obvious source of light, yet Alex could see clearly. The trouble was, except for two massive columns of black stone rising out of the granite perhaps half a football field away, there was nothing for him to look at.

  He thought about walking closer to the towers of stone but on second thought, he would spare himself the effort. From his recent experiences, he knew whoever was coming next would come to him. He searched his brain, trying to remember how many of the astrological signs were left. He mentally reviewed the statutes under the eaves of his new home, ticking the ones he’d met off on his fingers. There were Taurus, Sagittarius and Aquarius most recently. He certainly could not forget the cleansing tortures of Scorpio or his rescue by Cancer. Who else? He’d painted Capricorn, so he supposed that counted for something as it was a kind of appearance. There had been sweet, gentle Virgo and the commanding presence of Leo and even, he recalled with a melancholy smile, his odd experience with Pisces of the finned tail followed by his semi-rape by Ares. Finally, of course, he could not forget the Gemini, his personal favorites, though he could not fathom why they would chose to show up in a place as odd as this terrifically large cave. That made eleven, but wasn’t there one more?

  He pondered the question for a while but, no matter how many times he tallied the others up, his mind drew a blank on the last one. Alex was so absorbed in his mental exercise that he didn’t notice the subtle shuddering of the two distant columns until the floor under his feet began to rumble. Looking up curiously, he coughed at the dust which had suddenly filled the air and he had to shield his eyes against tiny pebbles cascading down from far above, flinching as their sharp edges smacked against his shoulders and arms.

  His nudity didn’t bother him at all. Each time he’d met one of the Zodiac Men, he’d either been naked at the start, or ended up that way. In fact, he was grateful for it as he was sweating heavily like he had a fever and the air of the cave felt cool and soothing where currents washed over his bare skin.

  Suddenly, the floor shifted with a loud wrenching sound and he was flung to the ground. Momentarily, his vision was obscured by dust. Frantically scrubbing his eyes, he sought to see what was happening around him. His eyes took things in before his mind managed to comprehend them. His first thought was that the columns had either gotten closer somehow, or that the shifting and tilting of the ground had propelled him in their direction. Then he saw them move and realized that, impossibly, they were not columns at all. They were the feet, ankles and calves of some megalithic being.

  He craned his head upwards, tilting farther and farther back until his neck muscles twinged. As the creature came closer, he realized it was not quite so amazingly huge as he’d at first thought. Still, its size was impressive and daunting.

  The man soared above him, his head forty, perhaps fifty feet in the air. His nude body was made of immaculate sto
ne – Alex could see the darker veins of the marble in the rock that substituted for pale creamy, human flesh. Had he been more moderately sized, the man’s physique would have been spectacular, or so Alex assumed. But given his immensity, it was hard for Alex’s more salacious instincts to kick in. His dick, of course, had stiffened immediately, but the only conscious thought the artist could muster was a silent plea that this goliath of a man would not want to fuck him. He would be ripped apart in an instant if not completely crushed, and he stood awestruck and terrified at what might be coming next.

  The colossus approached. With each step nearer the ground trembled, and when he was within reach, he stopped and, perhaps taking pity on the Lilliputian before him, dropped to his knees. His face, once it came into view, was unearthly beautiful and, in some indefinable way, completely alien to anything human. The eyes were too narrow with epicanthic folds that were strangely out of proportion; they were not so much Oriental as they were reptilian. The nose was aquiline and entirely too long, and the mouth was much too thin to have such broad lips. The nipples were perfectly formed buds but far too tiny for the aureoles that surrounded them. Even the fingers were odd -- long slim digits tapering to oversized and blunt fingernails entirely inappropriate for their slenderness.

  The man’s dick reminded Alex of the Washington Monument – not only was it much closer to the size of a building than anything which naturally occurred on a man’s body, but it seemed more squared off than rounded, though there were no actual angles to be observed. From the base of the penis hung two testicles almost the size of compact cars, each of them supported by the pan of a massive scale which the creature held in one hand.

  “Libra,” Alex whispered, almost dumbfounded.

  The giant nodded and it looked very hard as if he was trying not to smile and not quite able to completely suppress his delight at being recognized.

  “The time,” he said, “has come.”

  Contrary to what Alex expected, Libra’s voice was not at all resounding or thunderous. Instead, it was a high and clear tenor, reminding Alex of a flute or an oboe played at its higher register. Moreover, the strangeness of the man’s form was reflected in his tone. It was expressive, almost merry, but Alex could not quite put his finger on an exact interpretation; there was a frustrating and elusive subtext. Even in a short sentence, the vocal inflections were weird to the ear.

  With a grunt and a grimace of mild discomfort, Libra reached down with his free hand and took hold of his right ball. It must have been extraordinarily heavy as his arm muscles bulged with the strain of shifting it off the pan of the scale so it dangled freely between his legs. The right testicle was followed by the left after similar effort. When both huge balls were unsupported and swinging in the cavern’s breeze, Alex had to stop himself from taking a step backwards. It would be far too easy for him to be crushed beneath their weight.

  Libra lowered the base of the scale to rest on the floor. Then he paused, seemingly waiting for Alex to do something. But the artist was baffled and did not know what was expected of him. Long minutes passed while the two remained still, the only motion the slight movement of the massive brass scales hanging from their chains and swaying in the light wind. Finally, Alex cleared his throat and spread his hands in a gesture of confusion.

  Libra’s eyes widened and he seemed embarrassed at himself. With a shy smile of apology, he placed a single finger on one of the scale pans and pushed it down until it rested on the floor. Alex took a hesitant step forward and, at a nod of approval from the giant, he took several more. The brass of the weighing instrument was cold on the bare soles of his feet, almost stinging, and his footing was uneven given the slope of the pan. Alex grabbed one of the chains to steady himself and, assuming that Libra would eventually remove his finger and the pan would soar back to its original place, he quickly moved to the center. This way, when the thing was released, at least he was less likely to be tossed out and crash down into a broken mass of bone and shattered flesh on the hard stone floor. He spread his arms and took hold of the chains more firmly to support himself, just in case.

  An instant later, he felt his stomach drop as he was airborne. He tightened his grip. He was no longer quite so fearful of falling, but rather exhilarated by the swift lift into the air. He was reluctant to let go of the chain lest he pass out from the heady thrill. Upwards he soared until he was directly in front of Libra’s face. The creature’s expression was hard to determine, but Alex had the distinct impression he was being examined with avid curiosity. Unconsciously, he straightened his back, squared his shoulders and expanded his chest. He didn’t know how he knew it, but he was certain that gaining Libra’s approval was crucial to something very important.

  A good five minutes passed before the Scale-Bearer eventually smiled – a sweet, satisfied smile as if he were pleased by a job well done.

  “Now,” his voice rang out in dulcimer tones, “we may begin.”

  * * * *

  Charles lurched out and grabbed Joey by the biceps as he rushed by, his fingers squeezing so tightly into the muscle that the doctor winced.

  “What the devil is going on in there?”

  “I told you...” Joey’s voice was desperate. “We don’t know. Listen, Charles.” He began to pry the older man’s grip from his arm. “As soon as we know what’s causing this...”

  “I don’t care what’s causing it,” Charles told him firmly but not unkindly. “I want to know what’s happening to him as we speak.”

  Joey allowed his impatience and irritation to show. “I have to get back in there and...”

  “No, you don’t,” the banker interrupted him again. “I counted four doctors going into that room. And you, my friend, look like hell. White as a sheet and terrified, and I want to know why. I love Alex and Tony as much as the rest of you. So, doctor, you are going to settle down, take a deep breath, let me buy you a coffee and tell us what the hell is going on.”

  “When he’s like this,” Corey piped in with unaccustomed meekness, “it’s better to do what he says.”

  He had been sitting in one of the chairs in the visitors’ lounge, plucking tissue after tissue from a nearby box and compulsively shredding them into tiny strips of paper. His lap, the arms of the chair and the floor around his feet were littered with the torn scraps.

  “Look at me, Joseph, and tell me there’s one thing, anything that you can do in there that they can’t.”

  Charles waited for his answer but Joey could not meet his eyes.

  “See? Corey, would you please go to the vending machine and get us all coffee? The doctor will take his black. You know how I like mine.”

  He pulled a handful of change from his pocket and without relinquishing the doctor, handed it to his young lover. Corey’s need to know what was happening to his best friend was killing him, but he knew well the mood Charles was in and didn’t dare contradict him for fear of starting an argument. He scampered off toward the vending machines across the lounge.

  Charles pulled an empty chair up to a little table and guided Joey into it, making sure he was firmly seated before finally letting go of him.

  “Well,” the doctor began, but Charles held up one hand to silence him.

  “Corey will be right back. I want him to hear this too.”

  From the mild cursing coming from the direction of the vending machines, Corey seemed to be having some trouble. It took several long moments, but eventually he returned to the table with three coffees and some rather tattered-looking granola bars.

  “I figured we could all use a little sugar boost right about now,” he explained. “And to hell with your diet, Charles. It’s medicinal.”

  Joey opened his mouth to launch his speech, but again Charles stopped him with a warning glare and by pushing the coffee cup across the table towards him.

  “Drink,” he commanded.

  Joey seemed almost surprised to find the cup in front of him. The look of gratitude he gave Charles after the first sip spoke v
olumes. “God, I needed that.”

  “No, you need twelve hours of sleep and a two-week vacation. But for the moment, coffee will have to do. Now, please tell us what’s happening.”

  Joey cradled the cup between his hands, relishing the warmth and inhaling the bitter steam. When he spoke, his voice was hushed and timid, like a young child’s.

  “He died, Charles. Right in front of us he just...died.” He saw the alarm on both their faces and hastened to add, “We brought him back, thank God, but it was touch and go. And now, well...” He squirmed in his chair. “His blood pressure’s falling and we don’t know why. There’s nothing wrong with him and we still can’t stop it. We’ve got him stable but, just barely. At any moment...” His voice trailed off. “Then, in the middle of everything with Alex...” He choked back a sob.

  “Tony?” Charles asked gently and the doctor nodded with silent tears streaming down his cheeks.

  “He coded.”

  At Corey’s grunt of confusion, Joey explained. “Tony’s heart stopped too. We just shifted the crash cart and got him back, but again...” He pulled the cup to his chest and cradled it there, not seeming to mind the drops of hot liquid that sloshed over the edge and down the front of his white coat. “We’re losing them, Charles. We’re losing them both.”

  “That’s crazy,” Corey blurted out. “A few hours ago Alex was fine and Tony, well, Tony’s been the same for weeks and weeks.”

  Charles patted the back of Joey’s hand where it rested on the table. “Doesn’t anybody have any idea...?”

  “Not a clue. We pulled blood from Tony and rushed it to the lab to see if the virus has gotten more aggressive. Results’ll be back within the hour but... oh, Charles. I’m so afraid it’s going to be too late.”

  Then, Doctor Joey Caprese, the man whose picture might well have appeared in the encyclopedia under the heading “tightly wound anal retentive,” to everyone’s astonishment, thrust the coffee cup away from him, put his head down onto his arms and began to cry with great wracking sobs. Corey immediately got up and, with his own lower lip trembling to hold back tears, stood behind Joey and rubbed at his heaving shoulders. Charles reached out and stroked the doctor’s head.