Chapter 43 Surrender
Surrender
Ihurry as fast as I can from the kitchen window of Nikolai’s house to the exterior basement doors. A padlock holds the doors firmly closed.
I could probably use one of the big rocks in the garden area of the backyard to smash the padlock, but it’ll make too much noise. I need to create some kind of distraction in the front.
I run low, back to the front of the house. I scan all around and spot a small but heavy-looking potted plant (because it’s ceramic, not plastic). I pick it up and chuck it at one of the windows. The sound of glass shattering pierces the quiet. I hear shouting coming from inside.
As I speed back to the basement doors, I hear bodies inside the house all run towards the front, in the opposite direction from where I’m heading. It’s working.
I find a good-sized rock on the ground. I repeatedly bang against the padlock until it breaks apart. I pull the doors open and descend down creaking wooden stairs.
When I reach the bottom, I see an exposed light bulb hanging from the ceiling, which has spiderwebs dangling from it. And there, in the corner, Oscar lies on the cold ground, eyes closed, dried blood covering his clothes and skin, handcuffs securing him to a water pipe.
“Oscar!”
Oscar opens his eyes. He’s unable to say anything.
I put my hand on Oscar’s shoulder. He puts his hand over mine.
I look around for something I can use to smash against the handcuffs. But the basement is eerily empty, except for a few stray bottles of wine that seem to be randomly placed on the floor. It’s weird. Fragile bottles won’t help me with those handcuffs.
Damn it. I have to go back up the stairs to grab that big rock. I wasn’t thinking clearly during the commotion.
“Hold on, Oscar,” I say. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna get you out of here.”
I let go of Oscar and zip up the stairs to retrieve the rock. Nikolai and his men haven’t made it back here yet. Thank God.
After grabbing the rock, I bound down the stairs. But when I reach the bottom, I stop dead in my tracks. Nash, knife in hand, is standing over Oscar, his face covered in shadows.
“No!” I yell.
Nash turns to me. “Hunter?!”
“Get away from him!” I demand.
Nash waves the knife at me. “Stand back, Hunter!”
I decide to take a chance. I throw the rock. It slams into Nash’s forehead so hard that he gets knocked to the ground, causing a booming thud. The knife flies out of his hand and bounces off the wall.
I pick up the rock again and slam it down repeatedly on the chain that holds the two parts of Oscar’s handcuffs together. I’ve got so much adrenaline pumping through me that I also feel super strong, and the chain splits open. Oscar is free.
I help Oscar to his feet. As his legs wake up, he starts moving on his own, until we’re both climbing up the stairs, him ahead of me.
Once out of the basement, we’re both running side by side across the backyard and now along the side of Nikolai’s house. As we move towards the front, I hear people inside, moving towards the back, to where the basement is. We’re going to make it.
When we’re at the front of the house, both of us are hit by the bright Christmas lights, which illuminate the night sky. We shield our eyes with our hands.
I hop off the front lawn, and I notice that Oscar is no longer next to me. I turn back to see that Oscar is behind me, standing by the nativity scene. He seems to be just staring at it.
I try to snap him out of it: “Oscar!”
Oscar turns to me. He coughs, and blood splashes out of his mouth. I look downward and see that there’s a huge stab wound in his stomach area.
“What the fuck?” I say. “Oscar, what happened?”
“He stabbed me,” Oscar says, matter-of-factly. “When you went back up the stairs, Nash came in and stabbed me.”
Oscar falls to his knees.
I run to him and hunch down. “No, no, no, no, no.”
I try to get Oscar back onto his feet, but he won’t budge. It’s like he’s rooted to the ground.
I’m shaking my head. I don’t know what to do.
Oscar holds his bloody hands up and places his palms over the sides of my face. “It’s okay, Hunter. You came to save me. That’s all that matters. You came to save me. ‘Cause we’re best friends, right? Right, Hunter? It’s good to have a best friend, huh?”
At this point, I’m crying uncontrollably. I nod.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Oscar asks.
I nod again. I can’t even manage to say anything, form any words. And physically, the lower half of my body feels paralyzed.
“Sometimes,” says Oscar, “sometimes I think about what it would be like if you and me were together. You know, as a couple. That’s stupid, huh?
But sometimes I think it. ‘Cause wouldn’t it be great to be in a couple with your best friend?
Like, I’m totally straight, and I don’t think about guys.
But sometimes, sometimes I think about you like that.
No homo though, but I do. It’s like, maybe I’m not heterosexual, I’m not homosexual, I’m not bisexual.
I’m, like, I’m . . . Hunter-sexual. Is that a thing?
‘Cause if it’s a thing, maybe I’m that.”
Oscar laughs. He then falls onto his side, his head at the base of the plastic Mary statue holding the baby Jesus. The colorful lights flash against Oscar’s face. He looks like he’s glowing. He looks like he’s dying.
I think about all of the fairy tales I’ve ever heard in my life. I wonder if there’s such a thing as magic. Well, I’m about to find out.
I lower my face until it’s right in front of Oscar’s. I close my eyes. I press my lips gently against his. He does not resist. He surrenders. He gives back.
We kiss.