Ghosts that Watch Us

23

Watching the professor sweat and suffer against the dirty seat of the taxi, not even half aware of his surroundings and where they were in the city, Sean thought that maybe he wouldn’t get to see his beach after all. Imagining the professor traipsing through the city alone, laden with bags and ice packs and water bottles, dizzy and disoriented, made a ribbon of something hard like possession tighten through his ribcage. He’d felt something similar when Chase had approached Ellory all those months ago in his office, poking his chest like some kind of entitled miscreant. The boy was good at lacrosse, but that didn’t mean he could touch and bully what Sean was beginning to admit felt like his to protect. He’d felt the same thing again when he’d sensed Ellory’s thin body clench as he cried out his release.

Ellory moaned, and Sean inched over a bit more. He looked feverish, cheeks spotted with color.

"How far away are we?" he asked, glancing at Santiago.

"Not far, señor. A few more kilometers."

When they arrived, Santiago pulled into the shaded arch of the front entrance and jumped out to grab their luggage. Sean tugged on Ellory's arm until he roused enough to move on his own, albeit sluggishly. But what Sean had hoped would be an easy trip from taxi to room turned out to have a glitch when the manager approached them with the news that their cottage—Sean frowned because cottage?—wasn't ready.

Beside him, Ellory took a deep breath and stood to his full height.

"I've just traveled from the eastern United States. I feel rather ill at the moment and I was told that my cottage would be ready upon arrival." His voice was clipped with disapproval, his enunciation tight and precise.

The manager, whose name was Miguel, nodded and opened his hands in a show of earnestness. "We do apologize, Dr. Waylon. A business conference of nearly fifteen participants has just left. We only have seven cottages on site. And our staff is working as fast as they can to make sure it's ready for your stay."

Ellory opened his mouth again but Sean jumped in, grabbing his elbow to quiet him. "We sure appreciate it. We'll wait right over here," he said, gesturing to the darkened bar he’d glimpsed through an archway tiled with a patterned blue and white mosaic.

Santiago hovered behind them, their luggage at his feet. Ellory had the good sense to reach into his pocket and pull out a few American bills, which he accepted with that wide toothy grin of his. Ellory thanked him and went to sit at the bar, slumping into one of the high stools.

"Here is my number, señor,” Sean heard, and he turned, accepting the card the boy held out for him. "You call me when you or the doctor need to be taken anywhere."

"But we can walk to the church, yeah?" Sean asked, studying the strange number.

"Yes, but taxi is faster. Ten minute walk, or two minute drive. Even better idea after dark." He smiled again and shook Sean's hand before leaving.

Sean waited with Ellory at the bar for a little over an hour, during which Ellory drank two bottles of water and swayed on the fist he kept tucked under his chin. At one point he got to his feet, mumbling something about needing to piss. Sean stopped himself at the last second from offering to accompany him, thinking Ellory would probably try to sock him in the face at the suggestion.

When the manager finally collected them, Sean remembered something Ellory had read aloud to himself back in Newark.

“Will we be able to get a space cooler, like Delia requested?”

“Yes,” Miguel nodded. “It’s already in the bedroom in the cottage.”

Indeed it was, turned on to the highest setting. Sean tipped the boy who carried their luggage and then closed the door behind them. Ellory was already in the bedroom, toeing out of his shoes, unbuttoning his shirt and shucking it off. He lay down on his stomach, torso bare, trousers still on. The space cooler was whirring quietly from the corner, but Sean thought that Ellory was hardly aware of it, appearing asleep already from where Sean peered into the dark, cool room. His eyes froze at the sight of Ellory’s back, along the length of which were mottled bruises, variously colored in purple and green. Sean bit his lip, wishing quite suddenly that he had never laughed at Ellory that day on the lacrosse pitch; that he should have been gentler with him in his office.

As quietly as he could, Sean closed the door and made himself at home in the living room.