A Matter of Time

June first, and here was Jack, finally out of college and off for his first vacation in years, or so it seemed. He was on a plane to Maui. Of course, it would be a working vacation, and although it was an unpaid internship, it would be on a boat part of the time, and he’d probably make some money in tips. And hey, it was on Maui! He just hoped he wouldn’t be sea sick. He’d never really been on a boat, much. Jack, originally named Jacob Divinity Alder after his grandparents, was just leaving college at age barely twenty-one, and would be attending the University of Michigan Master’s Program in the fall. For now, however, he was free and adult and away from home. Yeah, college. Living at home with dear old Mom and Dad had sucked. And don’t forget Grandpa, who had come to live with them due to failing health. And don’t forget the girl next door, Flossie the Floozie, the one who loved him, and as far as his parents knew, he loved in return. They would kill him if they knew. They’d martyr him, neuter him, kick him out of the house. And her? She’d kill what was left of him. Living at home had been the only way he could afford college He wanted this Master’s program as well, and who knew what lay beyond? But he had to keep a secret in order to keep himself in funds for all this. He wasn’t smart enough for a full scholarship, though he had several Regent’s awards, and he wasn’t wise enough to figure out how to both work and pay the expenses. Sure, he knew other people did it all the time, and he always marveled at the fact. The only person who knew his secret was Sal, Salvatore Moretti. Next to Jack’s short, fiery red-gold hair and gray/green eyes, Sal’s curly black hair and dark brown eyes were almost shocking. It was like beauty and the beast, only, you know, different. They were both beautiful. Sitting over coffee at one of the many coffee houses on Main Street, or bent over each other naked in Sal’s bedroom, they make a striking, eye-satisfying picture. You almost, or maybe you did, want to join them. Jack had spent the entire flight from Detroit-Metro to SeaTac huffily replaying how horrible his so-called friends and loved ones had been to him when they’d first met each other. You’d think since they both said they loved him, and he cared dutifully about them, that they would have liked each other, but it hadn’t worked out that way. To whit: Sal hissed: “You f****d that slut?” Flossie cried: “Who is this? What is he to you? I thought we were going to get married when you finished college!” Sal, rolling his eyes: “b***h, please. Anyone who can take it up the ass like he can and come as hard as he does has no use for someone like you. You can’t do anything for him.” Sal then examined his nails, his eyebrows raised. Flossie: “That’s absolutely disgusting! I don’t believe you!” Sal, getting into Flossie’s face: “Oh honey, if you could have seen how far he shot and his O-face you’d understand. By the way, who the hell does your make-up, Pennywise the Clown?” Flossie tossed her blonde, highlighted, freshly-back-in-style pageboy. “Why you—we’re going to get married! You are so out of here, you, you, degenerate man w***e!” Sal’s patented eye roll looked like it hurt him. “Just what are you going to offer when he wants to suck a d**k, your nose? And oh look, you’ve got a little bit of nose-jizz hanging off…” Jack didn’t stay to hear any more. All the time they’d been talking, right in the middle of the Italian restaurant, he’d been backing toward the hallway that led to the bathrooms and the side door. He was dying inside, and oddly enough, horny as hell on the outside. Sal would win, because he had the truth on his side, unfortunate though it must sound being dragged out in public. Everything Sal said was true. Jack just didn’t want the whole restaurant to hear it. It was a small town and his parents would hear about it eventually. And he hadn’t really wanted to break up with Flossie; they were planning on sharing an off-campus apartment together in the fall. His father had already put a deposit on it and his mother was already picking out drapes. Jack was afraid to go home. He didn’t even go get his car. Flossie had a key; she could drive herself home. She already thought of it as their car anyhow. How had he let this get so out of hand? How had he actually had s*x with her, (had he really? He’d been so drunk that night, maybe he hadn’t) and why in hell had he thought getting her and Sal together was a great idea? Walking along the alley, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed home. His mother picked up. “Mom,” he started hesitantly. “There’s something going down that I want to warn you about.” Mom didn’t sound right. She sniffed audibly. Her voice was cold steel. “You,” she got out. “You need to go to a hotel. Then you need to take a bus to the airport. We moved your flight up to tomorrow. I hate what you’ve done to that poor, sweet girl, going out with another girl. Oh yes, don’t deny it, we know everything about Sally!” No you don’t, Jack wanted to say, a minor victory in this war. “Where are you? Dad will pick you up and bring you your suitcase. I threw some clothes in there and Dad printed out your boarding pass. We think you should just cut this short and get out of town. Maybe you two sweethearts can work this out while you’re gone. And don’t bother seeing this Sally person anymore.” He could hear his mother take a deep breath. She sighed. She whimpered just a little tiny bit. “I know how boys are. It was just a moment of temptation, a weakness, a flaw. Why, once your father even…but I forgave him, and I hope Flossie will forgive you too.” He told her where he was, and waited, out of sight, until his father pulled up. He climbed into the car, and his father reached over and shook his hand. “You sly dog!” he fawned. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!” Now Jack wanted to whimper. His father, however, went on proudly. “I must say, that Sally must be a looker, with that deep voice, and cuss? Her father must have been a Navy man like me for her to learn that kind of language!” All Jack could think was, can I just die now, please? And beneath that was, they think Sal’s a girl! I’m not going to die after all! He was afraid to check his cell phone, but in the end, it fell down the back of the front seat of his dad’s car anyway. When he realized the next day that he had lost it, he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Neither did his parents, when they listened to all the messages on it the next day. The hotel was boring. The bus to the airport was boring. Checking in was horrible, and he actually got lost before reaching the security lines. A very nice young man with a gun escorted him back out of the secure area to where he needed to be. He even offered to give him a cavity search, which made Jack blush like a girl. When he did go through security, he was scared to death and looked eight kinds of guilty, but the security guy had spoken to the examiner and they were chuckling when he went through the X-ray machine. He almost died when the guard spoke to him, “Is that a gun in your pants or are you happy to see us?” As he put his shoes back on, he noticed the hole in his socks. His mother had packed that pair. His suitcase was long gone ahead, hopefully on its way to Maui, also. He wondered what the heck she’d put in there besides holey socks. Well he’d find out soon enough. But not when he got to Seattle, because that didn’t happen. And actually, not ever, but by that time he didn’t really care anymore; he didn’t care about Maui or interning on a boat or even going back for a Master’s Degree. So, Jack was sitting in his window seat, bored, because he didn’t have his phone and had no idea where it was. He had a burger before he boarded, and was regretting it. Maybe because he’d emptied out the tiny bottles of booze he’d found in the hotel fridge. He didn’t care, he figured his mother owed him that, and his father wouldn’t mind. He had a bit, just a bit, mind you, of a hangover to begin with. He wanted to order a drink right now but after all, it was only eight in the morning. He’d been up since five, and hadn’t gone to sleep until after two A.M. So when he looked out the window and saw the flames and smoke coming out of the engine, he wasn’t quite sure if he was awake or asleep and dreaming. Then his seatmate, who was a hefty older woman with gray hair and a hot pink polyester pantsuit out of history somewhere, started screaming. She stuck her arm out right in front of him, pointing a shaking finger out the window. Her shrieks set off the two-year-old and his mother seated behind him. “Okay folks, we have a minor technical problem,” came the pilot’s voice over the din as more shrieking ensued. The loudspeaker continued blurting out phrases that he could only barely make out. He was only sure he heard, “Bend over and kiss your ass goodbye,” and “s**t s**t s**t s**t fuck.” The woman stopped screaming and turned to him. “Kiss me, I’m eighty-three years old and I’ve never been kissed. I don’t want to die a virgin either but a kiss will do!” She grabbed him by the ears and planted her quivering lips on his mouth before he could resist. “Well, f**k,” Jack bleated with difficulty. “Yes, let’s!” the woman begged, before putting her lips back on his. The steward was beside her, and he pulled her back into her seat and buckled her seatbelt. He reached across and aimed at Jack’s crotch to check if his belt was buckled. “If you want to join the mile-high club, I’m cuter than she is,” said the steward, whose name tag said Ryan, smiling through gritted teeth. “If we don’t die, meet me in the airport restroom.” Jack laughed, knowing he must be joking because airports had so many bathrooms, and then vomited soundly all over the woman, who was reaching across to the window once again. So, at least, he thought, I didn’t get it on myself, there’s that. Ryan laughed heartlessly and scurried off. The plane was going somewhere other than Seattle, hopefully, with a long, flat, straightaway. At that moment there was a boom; the screaming intensified, as well as the vomiting and other leakage from various bodily orifices that happens to people during frightening situations. I’m glad I went before I left, thought Jack, thinking of how his mother always told them, “Go while you have the chance. I’m not stopping just because you didn’t bother.” He took a deep breath, and decided to try to calm his seatmate. She was terribly frightened and her face was chalk white, except for the occasional piece of semi-digested breakfast. He pointed out the window and told her, “Look, the fire’s out now, and oh look, the engine’s falling off.” They both watched it fling itself away as if it had its own parachute and thoroughly intended to live through this. “We’re all going to die,” she said. Then the airplane itself began to scream, and they spiraled down and down. Just when it looked like it was all over and the treetops were hurrying to meet them, the plane turned on its side, then straightened out, flat-lined so to speak, and touched down. It touched down hard and often and bounced its way along a field, with trees flying by on either side. It took out a couple of cows, and Jack watched spellbound, his heart pounding with excitement now, as a farmer leapt off a tractor and ran for his life. The plane began to slow, and finally, after a couple of loud pops and thuds and some assorted tinkles, stopped altogether. “All ashore that’s going ashore,” said his old lady seatmate. Jack replied, “That’s gonna leave a mark.” The plane was filling with dust and smoke and bodies stumbling through the grayness. Jack could smell burning and had no idea where the doors were, but saw a square of light take shape several rows ahead. A part of him realized he should be screaming and panicking and wondered why he was not. He unbuckled his belt, unbuckled the woman’s, and lifted her bodily into the aisle, knocking over a man who was pushing up from behind them. Jack grabbed his arm and pulled him along, as well. Oh, I’ve wet myself, he realized on the way to the door. I’ll just say I spilled my drink. At the door, he saw a steward open the slide, and he pushed the man and woman toward him and turned back into the plane to see who else might be stuck. Scenarios ran through his head as if he had to understand why he didn’t leap out onto the slide, himself. The only other time he’d been heroic, was a couple of winters ago when he and Jason Edder were out on the lake, where they’d been told not to go, and Jason had fallen through the ice. After Jack had spent two minutes laughing and pointing, he’d lain down on his stomach and inched forward to reach out and grab Jason’s hand, pulling him along closer to shore where the ice was thicker. A man came out and pulled them both to safety. It’s just like that, his thoughts went, only hotter. Well, no, maybe I just don’t have anything to live for anymore. My girlfriend left me, and my boyfriend is a d**k, or—here he came upon a man struggling to undo his belt, while holding a squirming toddler at the same time. Jack lifted the baby and undid the man’s belt, noticing with satisfaction, that both of them had also wet themselves, plus, worse than that. Ha! He thought. The baby didn’t want to let go of him, but Jack didn’t like the wetness against his shirt nor the screaming in his ear, so he handed the baby back to the man and shoved him toward the exit. The reality of the situation had finally broken through the thin ice of his this can’t be happening thinking, and it was like having a second big explosion occur, only all around him in all three dimensions, affecting and overwhelming all five senses, or maybe even all six. This wasn’t fun anymore; this was real. The back of the plane was full of fire, seen but trying to hide behind the thick wall of black smoke that was coming toward him like something out of a Stephen King novel. He took one step toward it, saw an arm reaching out into the aisle, bent down and pulled on the person it was attached to. It was a young woman holding an infant. Her belt was undone but her foot was stuck, and he bent down and was able to free it for her. There were more feet past her but they too were stuck. It looked like a part of the engine had hit the side of the airplane right beside them. That person’s legs were entangled in wires. Jack stood up, pulling the woman with him, her baby between them, and then turned to head her toward the exit and reach for the other person. Someone grabbed the woman and then him, and he was unable to resist. He felt himself towed along shouting, “But there’s someone else!” Jack could see the pale oval of a face now, and then it faded like a ghost in the black smoke until it disappeared, and still he was pulled backward along with the woman and baby. The hand clutching his arm was strong, and wet. There was a bang and the plane shook, the woman dropped the baby, and Jack bent to catch it. A piece of the plane went flying past where he had been standing, missing his neck only because he had bent to get the baby. He saw it happen as if he were standing behind himself, watching it. When he stood, holding the child now, he saw they were at the exit, and he saw the man and woman go down the slide. Then Ryan took the baby, and pulling Jack with him, they too exited what was left of the plane. Jack had no idea he was saying over and over, “But there’s someone else!” even though the image of the face disappearing into the darkness, was the only thing he could see. * * * * There wasn’t any time to feel as miserable and guilty as he would later. Right now he found himself lying in the mud and dirt, at the bottom of the slide, the plane behind him smelling of fuel and smoke and full of flames, and Ryan upside down beside him with his butt in the air. Ahead of him was the ass end of a giant bird. A man in a cowboy hat tinged black with soot was holding the baby under one arm like a football but still managed to pull him up and then turned to drag the steward up as well, then he hurried them away from the plane. Jack ran smack into a tall metal pole, which was apparently part of the bird, and swung around in a circle to face the plane again. He watched in horror until he was dragged around the other way again, an arm encircled him, and he was hurried away, once again. Followed by roiling black clouds of smoke and heat, they reached a small wooden shelter with a couple of picnic tables inside. Here those who were able were beginning to gather. “Stay here,” the man said, placing the baby on the table. It continued to lie there steadily sucking its thumb as if the whole universe had not just crumbled and caught fire around him. Jack and Ryan seemed to stand up straighter and catch their breath at the same time. Jack was going to be sick again but first he took Ryan’s arm and just said, “Thank you,” or tried to, but ended up coughing until he threw up instead. Ryan held him and then hugged him briefly. Then as if indeed great minds think alike, they both turned away to see what they could do to help. As Jack handed the baby to its screaming mother, he saw the old lady who had been sitting next to him. She was comforting a couple of children and seemed to be doing all right. He touched her shoulder and she smiled grimly at him, and continued to talk gently to the two children she had her arms around. He kissed her soft old cheek. He felt proud. He noticed a doctor in old fashioned fishing gear helping some people and went over to see if he could do anything. The clouds rolled overhead, turning black and growing rapidly in all directions. Jack seemed to be able to see, hear, and taste everything around him, all at once, and with no effort on his part. Inside he felt like the clouds, all roiling around and dark, obscuring even feelings. Outside he was helping, bandaging, straightening, and covering a few people who had made it out of the plane only to die on the grass, their sightless eyes fixed on the sky, or on the huge metallic statues of the birds, mocking them from their height. “What are those?” Jack asked the doctor. “It’s called the Enchanted Highway,” the man replied, smiling, as he tied off a bleeding leg with a tourniquet. “It’s a little after my time though. Turn this a bit every ten minutes, please. I have to go. I don’t belong here…” and his eyes looked far, far away. Jack turned to see what he was looking at, and when he turned back, the doctor was gone, leaving only a small pool of water behind, in which was one small fly, a lure he must have been going to use to catch a fish. Jack put it in his shirt pocket, and forgot all about it. He was still tending the person whose mangled leg would have bled out, when the first firefighters and EMTs arrived. A minute or two later an EMT came over and knelt down beside Jack and the man who was starting to groan now. “You did an excellent job here,” the EMT said. Jack replied, “I didn’t do it, it was…” but he realized the doctor had gone, really gone, back to wherever he had come from, and probably had never been there at all. Except, he had been there, hadn’t he? It was then that Jack realized the doctor had been the man who had pulled him out of the plane. He recalled the glint of the fire off the fishing lures on his hat. How strange. An hour later he had his answer. He and Ryan were sharing a room in the emergency department of Saint Joseph’s Hospital in Dickinson, North Dakota. So that answered the question they both had of where they were. They rode in a car with a nurse who was heading into work and had stopped to help. They drove around the northwest corner of the building on Empire Road, and she let them off at the door. Neither felt they were hurt, but Jack felt he wouldn’t mind having someone other than himself, make sure that was true. He also didn’t mind being with Ryan. Ryan made him feel safe, plus he was cute. Across the hall he saw the doctor who had pulled him out of the plane, and the face in the smoke came back to him. The pain that brought with it the knowing that the man was going to die, hit him like a truck. He found he could not speak at all, which was good, because he didn’t want to thank the man for saving his life, possibly at the cost of another, but still…Ryan held him and let him cry, and doctor said with a wry smile, “I know, son, but he was due. You weren’t.” And of course, when Jack raised his head, there was nobody there. No doctor, just Ryan. The nurse came in just moments later. “Oh, honey child,” she said in a drawl quite out of place in North Dakota, “You look like you just saw a ghost. And if it was that doctor with the fishing hat on, why then you surely did. He hangs around here all the time. Went off fishing one day a long time ago and never came back.” She laughed and then added, “Now get out of those clothes, both of you, and let’s a good look at you.” Ryan muffled a slightly hysterical laugh into the back of his hand. His pants were torn from the slide. As he pulled off his shirt he whispered to Jack, “Should we tell her we don’t know each other? Or shall we just get to know either other and let her believe what she wants.” Jack just smiled, and cast a wee look that would have made his father unhappy. Sort of. It certainly made him happy, anyhow. Stitches and staples and bandages ensued. A representative from the airline came in and handed them vouchers for stores and a hotel. He said since all the hotels in town were full of tourists visiting for the races, they would be bused to a nearby town to stay at a hotel there. They’d be sharing a room. “We have nothing against you people,” the man said proudly. “We’re as open and accepting as any other civilized state. Only if you two ain’t hitched yet,” (how down home can they get in a northern state?) “You’d hafta go to Montana for that!” The man started looking uncomfortable and left quickly. “Not exactly a fisher of men like the one that saved me,” Jack quipped thoughtfully. They redressed in their blood-stained, torn, and smelly clothes and went out to board the bus. It was a school bus, a short one. “Looks appropriate,” Ryan said. They and a dozen other tired, stupefied, bandaged, and shocked-looking survivors climbed aboard. Jack leaned against Ryan and just listened. People were either silent or unable, apparently, to shut up. “I heard there are twenty hotels in this burg,” an older man said. He seemed very calm and sported a bandage beneath a stained cowboy hat. “When I came hunting I stayed at one that had a cleaning station for your kill, none of these damn sissy no-smoking rooms, and the dog run was bigger than the pool.” The guy next to him said, “I heard it used to be called the “No-Tell Motel.” “This is hell,” Ryan muttered beside Jack. “We’ve actually died and gone to hell, even though it’s not work.” “It’s okay, Ryan,” Jack said softly. “We’ll be at the hotel soon and jump in the shower and get a good night’s sleep. I’ll bet you’re just hungry and thirsty and scared, like me.” “I need a phone. I have to call my lover! He’ll be devastated and so worried!” Ryan ran his hand through his hair, leaving it standing up in all directions. Jack noticed how dark and curly it was, and how it offset his dark brown eyes. Or maybe they were both just filled with dirt and soot. He couldn’t wait to see how his companion looked in the shower, well, after, well, both. “Anyone who loves you would be worried,” Jack said, disappointed, but still trying. “I want to call, no, I don’t want to, but I’ll call my folks. I don’t have anyone else who would—care. Not anymore.” Fuckers, he thought, of his former boyfriend and girlfriend. I hope they’ve killed each other, he thought nastily. Ryan complained, “My clothes are ruined and my pants—Oh. My. God. They stink! And they have to be dry cleaned! And my other clothes were on the plane! Why me, God? Why me?” Ryan’s little pity party was rather unattractive, Jack thought, but highly understandable. “I hate this job! I wanted to quit anyhow! As soon as I get back to Denver and my sweetie-pie, I’ll quit and take that waiter’s job at the Roy Rogers Café and Bistro!” “Who’s Roy Rogers?” Jack asked. Overheard by the man across the aisle, he was answered. “Roy Rogers? Why he was the greatest cowboy who ever lived! Let me tell you…” and he did. For a long time, but at least it wasn’t about the accident, and many of the others quieted down and listened. It turned out a lot of the other passengers were older people, and their parents, on their way to a reunion cruise to Alaska. Well, they were going to miss the boat, this time. It was dusk by the time they reached their hotel, The Rough Rider, in Medora. The two young men were given a room on the top floor. Jack just wanted to throw himself on the bed, but instead told Ryan, “Call your boyfriend. I’ll jump in the shower a while.” He went into the bathroom, and stripped off his clothes. At least there won’t be any more ghosts, he thought wrongly as he stepped into the warm water. The water was like healing rain. It brought out all his pain and not just the inner pain and fear from the crash. He realized as the soap and water and shampoo hit, that he indeed was hurt and now he was getting all the stupid staples and stitches and bandages soaking wet, just like they’d told him not to. So that made him cry, so he told himself, I’m stupid and nobody loves me and I couldn’t rescue that man or woman, no it was a man, judging by the shoes, those were nice, expensive, shoes, but so worn down and beat up. You could tell they were Barker Black Ostrich Cap Toe that must have run about a thousand bucks nowadays. But if a man could afford shoes like that, why was he sitting in coach with the rest of us poor dweebs? Not that I’m a dweeb…but here his thoughts were interrupted when the shampoo got in his eyes. f**k it. Now I have an excuse for the damn tears, he thought. That led to him tilting his head and inhaling a snortful of water, which led to a coughing fit, which made him realize how much smoke he had inhaled. I could have gotten him out, I know I could. All I had to do was pull, for God’s sake. His ankles and legs were so cut up and entangled in those wires I could probably have just pulled the rest of him up and away. Of course his legs would have stayed there in the plane and he’d be gushing blood but…Jack didn’t realize he was sobbing loudly by now. The bathroom door burst open. “Stop it!” shrieked a naked Ryan. “I can’t hear…Walter darling, what? What? I can’t—shut up! No not you, what do you mean you don’t care? How can you just dump me like this after what I just went through! Fine, f**k you too! You wish! Asshole!” Jack had turned off the water by then, except it let out one piercingly cold blast on its way, leading him to let out a piercingly loud shriek as well. They stood there in the sudden silence that followed, admiring or hating or both, and then the pounding on the door started followed immediately by the sound of a little boy laughing. “What’s going on in there? I’m coming in!” hollered someone, as the hall door was forced open. The laughter came in loud and clear, and then faded away. “Now you’ve got the damn ghost at his tricks again!” came the shout. “We’re fine!” snarled Ryan, who stalked naked into the bedroom. Jack heard the other person gulp. “You’re—not doing anything illegal in there, are you?” Ryan said, “Why yes, yes we are. Thanks for asking. The handcuffs are a little tight, that’s all. Say have you seen my whip and…” The hall door slammed and footsteps retreated down the hall. The little boy’s ghostly laughter trilled out once more, and Jack could almost hear the kid say, “Nanabooboo,” before he, too, left. When Jack had finally walked into the bedroom, however, the phone was back where it belonged, and Ryan was sobbing. “I will never put these dirty clothes on my body again!” Ryan got out dramatically between sobs. He kicked the pile at his feet as he spoke. Jack thought his roommate might run the back of his hand over his forehead, but he didn’t. Jack wanted to push him onto the bed and make him shut up, or rather, silence him. Instead he picked up the clothes and carried them into the bathroom. He ran the shower and tossed all the clothes, his included, into the bottom of the stall. Then he went back and took Ryan by the arm. “Come on, sweetie, a shower will make you feel better. It did me.” Well, something had. Ryan continued his monologue in the shower. Jack, seeing his roommate just stand there, joined him and proceeded to wash him, with pleasure, while Ryan continued to pour out his miseries. Every now and then a soap bubble would pop out along with a word. “He dumped me! That bastard! He said I sucked like a broken vacuum cleaner! And that I was too immature and overly dramatic; what’s that supposed to mean? I’m twenty-two; he’s pushing fifty! He’s lucky I ever bothered to look at him twice. What was I thinking?” Jack said nothing. He turned the water off and they stepped out, leaving the pile of slightly-less dirty clothes soaking in the bottom of the stall. Jack took a towel and dried Ryan off. He was thinking he’d never had a tender moment like this with either Sal or Whatsername. They had both always been so—together, so in control. With them, he had always felt like they had walls up and he was on the outside. With Ryan, well of course it might just be the horrible circumstances, but he felt closer, more let in, if you will, than he ever had felt with anyone else. An unpleasant realization came to him, that he’d mostly related to Sal for the thrill of the s*x, and the self-assurance of his identity as a gay man. With Whatsherface, it had been for the appearances. He was not proud of himself as these thoughts came. He’d only tried to balance his needs with those of his parents and society, but he could see the dishonesty in it now. Ryan was looking at him. He seemed to have deflated. “I have nowhere to go,” he said simply. “And I have nothing.” Then he yawned. “Let’s go to bed,” Jack said. “I can’t. I have no condoms,” Ryan replied. “We’ll just sleep, sweetie,” Jack said gratefully, realizing just how exhausted he really was, and how strongly he felt that right now just seemed like totally the wrong time. Before he turned out the light, Jack called his parents and left a message that he was all right. Ryan was already asleep, and in moments, Jack was too. * * * * When Jack woke up, the sun was high in the sky. “You’re a sleepyhead,” Ryan said, poking him the rest of the way awake. “I’ve been up for hours,” he lied. “I remembered I still have Walter’s credit card. He turned back to the phone he was holding. “Yes, that’s right, three sets of everything in the two sizes. And shoes. And you did say you delivered? You know, what with that horrible plane crash the other day. Yes, you have the credit number? Good, good. We’ll look for your delivery boy in an hour. Thank you soooo much. This was indeed a terrible way to visit your beautiful section of the country. Oh you don’t have to—well yes, we’d love to have those! Save gas, ride a cowboy? Ow! So cute! Thank you.” Ryan hung up the phone and made a gag me gesture. “What a bitch.” “What time is it?” Jack asked, yawning. “Ten minutes to lunch. Room service is bringing it up. We missed the mandatory meeting with the cruise director, that is, the airline rep. They were arranging flights to Denver for everyone. Big f*****g deal. No thank you. I rented us a car, thank you Walter. Your flight from Seattle is still on, and the airline paid for it to be moved to later. All I have to do is get myself one. I’m going to Hawaii with you. I can work as a waiter anywhere. Do they have good restaurants there? I’m not exactly a Quiznos kind of guy, you know.” The next several hours saw a huge meal, eating it in bed naked together. Then the phone was ringing constantly; Walter called twice but Ryan wouldn’t speak to him. Jack’s parents called and had to be soothed and convinced he was all right. His stitches hurt where they’d gotten wet. Ryan somehow managed to get a doctor to come to the room and check them out. He was not wearing a fishing hat but he made jokes about it. Ryan bought suitcases and had them delivered. When he called an electronics store and ordered two digital cameras and two IPads, Jack stared at him open-mouthed. “Don’t worry,” Ryan said. “The bastard can afford it. But still, I think he’ll be cancelling it as soon as he thinks of it. So I got a limo with a driver, all expenses paid by you know who. That bastard.” “So that’s what’s good about dating an older man?” Jack asked jokingly. “That, and you hope they’ll die soon, but, of course, he couldn’t be arsed to do that, could he?” Jack was aghast, and it must have showed, for Ryan’s bottom lip started quivering and his eyes filled with tears. “I did care about him, you know. I really did!” And Ryan leapt up, tripped over the sheet, and ran into the bathroom crying. Jack was at the door talking to him when the hall door opened and both delivery men came in. So did a pizza boy. All they could see was Jack’s ass, and hear him saying,” Honey, please let me in? Don’t make me break down this door!” No one waited around for a tip. After another ten minutes, Ryan came out smirking. “I bought a car. And kept the limo driver. Thank you, Uncle f*****g Walter.” He tossed his head, and marched over to the small desk. “Pizza! Thank you, Wally!” Jack was totally confused, but at the moment, he could not recall ever not being confused. He just watched Ryan dig into the pizza, and all he wanted to do was lick the cheese off his face. Instead, he settled for pizza and questions. “So tell me about this limo.” Ryan dribbled cheese down his chest and hoisted if off with a finger, sucking it into his mouth like the dogs in that old movie. Jack watched, fascinated. Ryan went on, “It’s a big, big horse, and they put three saddles on it,” he said pertly. Jack almost choked on his pizza. “What!” Ryan frowned. “Would you believe that? No, I see you don’t.” He laughed. “Well how about a VW Bug limo?” Jack rolled his eyes. “No. Well would you believe a hot pink, 1950 Lincoln that used to be a hearse?” Jack almost nodded. Ryan laughed delightedly. “You know what I like about you? You’re naïve as hell, and I really, really adore that. No honey, all I actually got for my—well, his—tons of money is a 1934 Ford Limo base with suicide doors and a six-speed manual transmission, whatever that means. But at least it was local.” Right there, while Ryan babbled incomprehensively on, is where Jack just zoned out and smiled. He knew nothing about cars. He was still nodding when Ryan ran down, saying, “And filled drip rails. Or filed, I dunno the difference.” Ryan was hysterically happy, which made Jack happy as well. Ryan had a way of being excited and smiling with his whole body, and it was infectious. You couldn’t be sad with Ryan around, or bored. Ryan leapt up and darted to the little fridge in the bar area, hauling out several pints of different ice creams, and two spoons, and brought them all back to the table. He burped soundly and let Jack pick first. “Oh and I got the trip catered and the champagne bought, but when I tried to order silk pajamas and bunny slippers, he’d just cancelled the card, so we’ll have to sleep naked.” He batted his eye lashes. “I hope you don’t mind.” After he finished off two pints of ice cream, while Jack managed half of one, Ryan turned to the IPads he had gotten working and wired up. “Look at this s**t,” he said, sitting down next to Jack on the bed. “This is what I found when I looked up gay bars here. Nothing gay found in this area, sorry honey. Try a new search. Please add if you know otherwise. Don’t you just love it? Sorry, honey. Cracks me up. They do have a hookah bar listed, though. Too bad the rodeo’s not in town. That’d be hot.” Ryan opened the minibar and fished out a few more bottles of liquor. Jack went down the hall to get a bucket of ice. On the way back he heard one of the maids talking on her cell phone and when he heard his name, he stopped to wait until he could walk by, not to listen you understand, just to be polite. Sure. She was saying, “These two are wanted by the police! They’re big heroes yeah, sure, but the one, he forged some guy’s signature to pay for this room and buy stuff and I bet he stole that card off one of the victims of the crash, you know? I know, right? And the other, well, I better go, the cops are going to be here at any moment and I want to just happen to be nearby, you know?” Jack turned his face as he walked by, but the woman wasn’t looking at him. After he turned the corner he started to run. Their door was open when he reached it and a bellboy was standing there talking in a swift undertone to Ryan. Pretty much the same thing as Jack had already heard, and as he looked, Ryan handed the bell boy a fifty-dollar bill, and the kid ran down the hallway toward the back stairs. Jack had never seen Ryan look so upset, not even in the airplane as they were trying to escape. He himself was calm and almost laughing. What an adventure! I can’t let Ryan see how I feel, how insensitive! I haven’t done anything wrong. How funny it would be to see Ryan…no. Jack, stop it. You care about Ryan. He saved your life! He’s hot. You know you want him. Jack shrugged. Yeah, there was that. They looked at each other and started throwing stuff in the new suitcases. After a hurried look around the room, Ryan threw a ten-dollar bill on the desk for the maid, and they ran down the back hall themselves. As they bumped down the stairs, they started to laugh. Outside the back door stood a beautiful, bright red sliding-into-sunset-scarlet old fashioned car. Low slung, it almost looked chopped and lowered, as Jack’s grandfather would have said, but not quite; way classier. A rather mafia looking type stood by the door, holding it open. They climbed into the back seat, suitcases and all, the man closed the door, strolled around the car and got in the driver’s seat. Without a word, he started the engine and drove off, over the curb and across the grass, to a service road that led to the freeway. “I-94 west, is that correct, young sir?” he called back. Not that he had to call far, for it was the shortest, most-unlimo-looking limo Jack had ever been in, though he’d only ever been in one and that was on the night of his high school prom when he’d taken (what was her name, anyway?) oh yeah, Flossie la Floozie, to it and he’d still thought he could that straight thing. “Aren’t the cops going to find us right away? I mean this car does stand out!” “Nope. Nobody told them what it looks like. You ever hear of bribes?” “Besides that,” the driver tossed back. “Our first stop, assuming you kids don’t mind, is at my brother’s ranch just over the state line. We’ll change her looks a little bit while you boys ride the horsies or play in the hay loft.” He followed this with a rather obscene and somewhat evil chuckle. “No, thank you. We’ll just get out here.” That was Ryan, much to Jack’s surprise. “No, you won’t.” That was the driver. Ryan jumped into the front seat and grabbed the wheel. At the same time he did something to the driver that caused him to go limp and slump over toward the door. The car was slowing and Ryan was trying to steer it to the side of the road. Jack had no idea what was going on but managed to help Ryan climb all the way into the front. Then he grabbed the driver by the head and held him so he didn’t knock into the steering wheel. “What?” Jack asked, “The f**k?” Ryan got the car stopped by some trees. “I’m f*****g stupid. Not completely, but off balance today. s**t s**t s**t. It’s a trap. I knew this guy looked familiar. He’s not a nice person at all! Oh Jack, I’m so sorry. We have to get out of here. Or at least dump the driver and head somewhere else where we can get a bus or train or something.” Jack’s sense of humor, which had been bubbling near the surface ever since he had been rescued by a ghost, I mean, after all, what the hell, right, took over. “Afraid to fly, fly boy?” he laughed. “Shut up and help me, ghost-catcher!” The two young men climbed out and pulled the driver across the front seat and out the passenger side door, where passing traffic was less likely to see them. They dragged him into the trees and left him. “Would you like to drive?” asked Ryan politely. “No thank you. It’s a stick shift. I don’t know how.” “Neither do I,” Ryan replied. “But if that back-country mafia oaf could do it, we should be able to.” Just then there was a rumble of thunder, and black clouds rolled in overhead. A yellow pick-up truck pulled up beside them and a young man about their age got out and dashed over. “You guys got trouble? Dad says to give you a hand.” So they didn’t have to drive it themselves after all. “My names Danny. That’s my dad. He’s heading out into the country to go hunting, and we just had the biggest row we ever did have. He told me to go home and grow up. Can you believe it? Just because I don’t like to shoot anything!” “If you can drive a stick shift,” Ryan smiled, “Your—or your dad’s—loss is our gain.” “You shittin’ me? I learned how to drive a stick when I was twelve. So yeah, you bet your sweet ass I can. Oh she sure is a pretty car. Get in, sit down, shut up, and hang on. Where are we going?” So saying, the youth slid in behind the wheel. “Well, actually, Seattle, and we’ll spot you bus fare back. Or maybe give you the car, how’s that? If we make good time,” Ryan winked at Jack, who rolled his eyes, thinking, yeah if we don’t end up in jail first. Danny turned around to face them. “Okay. I’m up for it. But I don’t believe for a minute you’d give me this car. It’s stolen, right? Or did you guys just rob a bank?” Danny had a great smile, Ryan noticed. He winked at Jack. Then he nodded solemnly. “There may be the—ah—occasional police car after us. Is that a problem, Danny?” Ryan had a way of raising his eyebrows that almost made him look evil. Jack loved it. Ryan added, like it mattered, “You are old enough to drive, right?” thinking, what a maroon. “Just don’t take a wrong turn at Albuquerque,” he added, even though he knew Danny might be too young to get the Bugs Bunny reference. “No, I’m not too young to drive,” Danny smiled, and he didn’t look like a doofus at all, right then. “I’m not as stupid as I look, either, and don’t say you couldn’t be, like my brother always does!” What tension there had been disappeared, as all three laughed. The skies continued to darken. “I’m just glad to not be outside in the rain that’s coming. I’m really glad to be inside this car with you guys. Well, hell, I don’t mean to complain and whine but my dad and me, it’s really been bad lately. I got nothing at home that I need, either, but I’ll tell you, I ain’t got a change of clothes with me.” They talked about what sizes they wore and Danny shifted smoothly all the way up through the gears, and they were off. Nobody knew exactly where they were off to before they got to Seattle, but it didn’t really matter. It was enough to just be running away from their problems, running away from the horrible crash that had just happened. Sure they knew it was probably a stupid and infantile way to deal with things, but sometimes, you just don’t care. It wasn’t as stupid and final as some things a person could choose, either, but after seeing the c*****e and ugliness that death left in its passing, nobody wanted that. Jack looked from the rain descending outside to Ryan who was sitting back smiling, to the back of Danny’s sandy-haired head. He yawned. He was still amused more than anything else, but he hurt all over and was exhausted. He knew he could easily go from his slightly happy mood into tears and blackness. In fact a few tears did leak out of his eyes, which wasn’t a bad thing, because it made Ryan put his arms around him and hold him until he was close to being asleep. Danny looked at them in the rear-view mirror and smiled. No, he wasn’t as stupid as he looked, and in fact, was a lot more understanding and open minded than they would have expected. He too had his secrets, but so far, there were no horrible ones inside his soul, at all. He almost wished there were. “We’ll be in Montana before you know it, if crossing the state line makes you feel better,” he said. Ryan said, “Go for it, dude.” Danny turned the radio on to an oldies station and let the old tunes rock and roll softly as he drove this incredible, beautiful vehicle first through his home town. He gave a one-finger salute to the high school he just finished attending, and had hated, making sure everyone outside or in a window saw him. “Losers!” he hollered to the poor schmucks starting summer school, then rolled the window up, and glanced in the rear-view mirror. His passengers were both almost asleep, sprawled in each other’s arms. Danny hoped one day to have a love like that, and, frankly, he didn’t much care if it was a man or a woman or something in between.