Ha- yah, I know this is a tad late for LAST WEEK’S Friday Flash Fics , I guess I’m really pushing the late-envelope. (better late than never?) Who knows. Would you believe I was stuck in the Tardis for the first time, and hit a version of a PAUSE button, where everything halts, (except for work)? That was my week, very weird. I almost didn’t write something for this, horror not being my forte at all… but I like it and will enjoy fleshing it out some more for a short fiction piece.
Mischief in Limbo
“Ok, Drew… so once this house is done at the end of the summer it’ll be our thirteenth job together!” Tam thumb drummed the wheel to Sir Duke, trumpets blaring from the speakers, enjoying the slow drive to Haytonsville through the scenic Poconos Mountains. Andrew looked out the window and patted Mischief’s belly. The grey Siamese-tabby’s ears fell flat, his tail wiggling wildly.
“Woah! That is totally wacked! Ouch!” Mischief nibbled playfully on Andrew’s thumb.
“I think it’s right here- 99 Eidolon Way. Well it’s not that wacked, Drew. Half of the jobs were only partials, so-” Andrew pointed another 500 feet up the road.
“Not us, silly. That!”
Tam paused the car and caught a glimpse of a broken down school bus covered in vines.
“What do you think that’s all about?” Andrew stuck his head further out the window to get a better look. Mischief hissed in that direction and bolted into the far back of the SUV.
“What do I think?” Tam threw the SUV into gear and turned up the radio, trying to shake the icy chill that shot up his neck.
“I think that’s about all I want to see of that 80’s relic and no way are we checking it out!”
Mischief yowled from the back as Tam sped down the winding driveway.
“See that, even our cat has better sense. Yes, Miss-Chief! Your daddies promise we won’t go over there!”
* * * *
“You must be the Reynolds Restoration fellas!”
A man in his late 60’s sprung down from the porch and thumbed at their white scrolled logo over the driver’s door. He looked and sounded like he just walked off the set of a country lemonade commercial.
“That’s us, alright!” Tam smiled, glancing at Andrew sideways and with a grin that only his husband could read as purposefully saccharin.
“And you must be Mr. Greagor! I’m Tam Reynolds.” Tam shook hands with Mr. Gregor through the car window.
“That’s GREYgor. Emphasis is at the front!” Tam tried to pull his hand out of the old man’s iron grip. He held Tam’s hand until Tam made eye contact and nodded.
“Got it! Sorry!”
“C’mon I’ll show you around! ” Mr. Gregor opened the SUV door for Tam and Mischief ran out, itching to stretch his legs and hunt.
“That’s our cat, Mischief, or Mis-” Andrew started, catching himself after catching a glare from Tam.
“Mister-Chief, as we sometimes call him! I’m Andrew Reynolds. Nice to meet you.” Andrew walked over to shake hands. The old man peered at Andrew, glanced over at Tam, then back to Andrew.
“Uhhh-huh.”
Tam and Drew got the feeling Haytonsville didn’t have many homosexuals. Andrew changed the subject.
“So what’s up with that old school bus up the road?”
“No! No-no,” Mr. Gregor shook his head, kicking at gravel. “That uh, that used to be the only school bus that ran in town. Until the driver went nuts right there on the side of the road! Former student. Didn’t make the college football team.” He stopped kicking the stones underfoot, and looked at them square in the eyes.
“Now listen here: nobody ever goes near that bus and the road dead-ends into the forest! Tow truck folks won’t touch it; school just let it sit there and rot.”
Mischief sniffed the toes of Mr. Gregor’s loafers and rubbed against his blue and white pinstriped seersucker suit.
“And unless you’ve got yourself nine lives like Mr. Cat here, don’t even go near it.”
Tam shot Andrew the look as Mr. Gregor started toward the back of the house.
“Owner forgot to mention she’d like the garage back here fixed and painted to match the main house; she figured you could just add it in and adjust the cost accordingly. If you need anything to eat, nearest store is a few miles back the way you came, only 24 hour Wawa in the county. If you need anything else gimme a ring, though I’ll be out of town for the next four days but you can just leave a message at the real estate office and my assistant will do what she can…”
* * * *
All of the seniors at Haytonsville High left the bonfire for the wild keg party held in honor of Shane Wyeth, the quarterback that led the Haytonsville Herons to the championship. Last time the Herons won the championship was three years prior in 1979.
“Drink to Shane! Drink to Shane!” the party crowd chanted.
“Now wait a minute, we gotta drink to the guy who catches all my sloppy throws! A quarter is only as good as his receiver, right Ben?” Shane lifted his drink and winked at Ben from across the room. Ben winked back, and no one knew that this was anything but two teammates congratulating each other. Ben stole away after taking in a few toasts from his friends, eager to make his way to their secret meeting place by the lake. He always got the fire started ahead of Shane who always had a tougher time getting away, mister popularity. They had been friends since middle school but didn’t start fooling around until sophomore year.
“How’s my Benny? Did it feel alright?” Shane kissed Ben’s neck and chest after his body stopped shaking. Shane thought he might have hurt him, this was their long awaited first time. Ben kissed him back, pulling the large sleeping bag over Shane’s shoulders, whispering,
“It was better than I dreamed!”
As a young man, Ben never dared share his deep desire to kiss and hold another man. Ever since their first drunken kiss Freshman year during a Truth-or-Dare session Ben would dream about it. Ever since he felt the first pangs of male attraction, he knew he had to keep his desires in the dreamworld, only. He knew better than to expect to find another like himself in Haytonsville. He knew he’d have to wait until he got out of this small town. We’ll get out together, Shane and I. Their chemistry on the field was the kind of anticipatory magic that coaches wish they understood so they could bottle it. They never had to talk about the plays, it all just flowed back and forth between them. Effortless. They also rarely talked about what they felt for each other, but Ben knew it. It was undeniable. He also knew their first time would confirm his feelings and squelch any fears; he and Shane would go to college and finally be able to be openly involved, no more sneaking around.
The chilly night air kicked up sparks in the fire, and Ben pulled the sleeping bag tighter around them both to preserve their warmth. Shane nuzzled in Ben’s arm nook and somewhere in Ben’s mind he recorded every detail of this moment as to never ever forget any of it. Ben had dreamed about this night for years, the night they would make love. The night Shane Wyeth would become his boyfriend. Forever.
* * * *
Three weeks into the job, and 99 Eidolon Way was fighting Tam and Andrew everyday. Supply orders were late by a day and a half, sometimes two days. All of the parts and fixtures were special order from two towns away. Tam’s finger was nearly fractured by a heavy antique stained glass window when the chain broke in the window casement.On top of it all the pain meds the local M.D. prescribed started giving Tam nightmares.There is one recurring nightmare where Tam is seated in a long, dark, dirty room withthin pull-out windows -like at a Catholic School- except they are all sealed shut except for one.Cigarette smoke pours in from it and someone outside is crying and shrieking in a high-pitched raspy voice, reverberating off the walls like they were made of tin:
“ME! You were supposed to love- ME!
****
Andrew woke up drenched in sweat, the dream still echoing in his mind. He looked over at Tam -sound asleep. He eased out of the bed and tip-toed to the bathroom, stopping at the closet for gym shorts and a T-shirt. It was ninety-two degrees today, why am I freezing?
Andrew splashed water on his face, trying to pull out a thread of recall of his dreams and then he caught a whiff of it, wafting over his shoulders, tickling the tips of his nose, flooding his now ex-smoker’s mind with a cascade of triggers. He spun around and the smell was gone.
Just like my dreams.
Andrew could sense the content of his dreams but as soon as his conscious mind started to get a clear picture, the images would slip away, stealthily. Like they were being shown to him and then stripped away, like a game of cat and mouse.
Mischief!
Andrew ran into the bedroom- Mischief was gone and this was bad. Mischief always slept at Tam’s feet, regardless of where they slept. Always.
“Tam! Wake up. Wake up! Mischief is gone! TAM!”
Tam smiled a deeper smile, pulling the covers tighter around himself, smiling into the space above his own body.
“TAM!!!” No amount of shaking and throttling would rouse him.
Andrew ran down the steps for his sneakers, calling out to Mischief even though he knew the cat wasn’t in the house but he knew where he cat had gone. He bolted out the front door so quickly he didn’t notice the tickling plume of cigarette smoke that he ran through, it’s tendrils wrapping around his mind. He won’t stop to notice until he sees Mischief is safe. Andrew runs down the dark driveway, all the way to the abandoned bus.
PATRICK COULTON 