Chapter 2 #2
He sniffed. He was trying to pull himself together.
“My lying about what happened wasn’t because of anything to do with you, or keeping secrets.
I just wanted to forget what happened. It was so horrible.
” He shook his head. “I still have nightmares. I probably have PTSD, but I’ve never gone to the trouble of getting diagnosed. ”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. Must have been awful.” I picked at a scratch on my knee my cat, Mrs. Davis, had given me the day before. I was intent on it and didn’t stop until I pulled away a finger with blood on it.
When Josh saw the blood, he groaned.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Stop with the apologies. You don’t need to.”
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?” I met his gaze. “You have to know I would have understood.”
Josh turned to me. “Of course.” He sighed.
“I guess I’ve told that particular lie to so many people over the years that it almost seems like the truth, even to me.
It was ten years ago, hon. A decade. It’s still a big wound, an empty space inside, but I’ve tried, through those years, to put Reggie’s murder behind me.
Because I was a person of interest, and not a suspect—an important distinction—I don’t like to talk about it or even think about it.
Then there’s the fact that it was such a long time ago—it was just something I didn’t need to burden you with, or at least that’s what I thought.
I was wrong. And, to be perfectly honest, I was selfish.
I didn’t want you wondering if they got it right when they pointed a finger at me. ”
“I know we’re new, but I’d never think that.”
“Thanks.” He looked over me and then out the window for a minute. Then he went on.
“What happened was we were the victims of some homophobic asshole.” He paused.
In his eyes, the wheels of memory turned.
His body trembled for a second. He continued.
“It’s an old story. I won’t say we bore some responsibility for the nightmare that happened that night, but we could have been more careful.
Reggie and I had been out. Sidetrack—we loved to go there for the comedy videos, especially after indulging in a little weed at home.
It wasn’t all that late, maybe a little before midnight.
Halsted was still busy.” He smiled. The memory, at least at this point, must have been a good one.
“We were happy. Horny. Going home to do what young lovers do.” The smile wavered and then vanished.
Storm clouds moved in, dimming his features.
“Reggie pulled me into an alley for a kiss. We were almost home. The kiss got a little out-of-hand. There may have been some groping.” He sighed.
“We got so caught up in each other that we didn’t notice we weren’t alone in the alley. ”
The memory must have been terribly painful. He hung his head and, for a long while, said nothing, radiating numbness, maybe a kind of retroactive shock.
I placed my hand on his knee, which made him jump. “You don’t have to go on. We can at least wait a little while. Or you can write it down and give it to me that way. I can see how much this hurts. I don’t need you to relive it. Not even for me.”
“Thanks. You’re so thoughtful.” He drew in several deep breaths. “There isn’t that much more to tell, really.
“Okay, so we were suddenly aware there was someone behind us, watching. You know how you can feel when there are eyes on you?”
I nodded. The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees.
“I turned around. I saw him.” He gnawed for a moment at his lower lip.
“There was nothing about him to make me afraid, not at first. He wasn’t what I would have thought of when I thought words like killer or fag-basher.
He looked so normal. Harmless. White tank top and cargo shorts, flip-flops.
A mop of dark hair that fell over one of his eyes. He was smiling.”
“And?”
“I was almost ready to say something along the lines of, ‘we’re not looking for company’ because that’s what I thought of at first—he was some guy out cruising and thought he might turn this lucky find into a three-way.
It probably happens all the time, especially in that ‘hood, although Reggie and I were too new, too in love, to imagine inviting anyone into our intimacy.”
He stopped for a long time. I could hear the nearby elevator doors open and close, the sound of its ascent or descent. A siren, probably over on Sheridan Road, wailed.
Outside the windows, I noticed real, not figurative, dark clouds had rolled in, turning the sky patchy shades of charcoal gray. The room’s temperature seemed to lower even more with the absence of sun. Thunder, a low growl, sounded in the distance. Heat lightning flashed far out over the lake.
“And then I saw the knife.”
I sucked in a breath.
Josh nodded. “The creepiest thing was he didn’t say a word. He just smiled.” A beat. “And then he came at us. He lunged for Reggie first, who was too stunned to do anything, not even move. I can still see him, frozen, his mouth open, eyes wide.
“I tried to fight him off. I thought I could take him, but despite his size—he was small—he was strong. He slashed me.” He showed me his arm, where a long scar ran down the upper part.
I’d noticed it before, even said it reminded me of the scar Padma Lakshmi had.
Josh had always been evasive, once told me it was from the car crash he and Reggie were in.
I never questioned it. I even thought it was kind of sexy.
“My arm was gushing blood. I felt weak. Helpless. I fell to the bricks, scraping my face, spraining my arm.” He began to sob, the tears flowing freely.
“It happened so fast, Ted. It was over in seconds. One moment we were kissing.” He looked at me. “And the next, Reggie was lying next to me, bleeding out. His eyes were open, but he saw nothing.
“It took me a long time, hours it seemed, but really probably only a few minutes, before I began to scream.”
I held him close. “Shh,” I whispered, “I know you’d never harm another soul.
” And even as I said the words, I already was thinking how the story didn’t add up.
Hadn’t Josh said he’d left Reggie alone for some “monster” to “slash?” And then, he contradicted himself by saying he was there too and had also been attacked.
Part of me wanted to ask him what the hell was going on. But the other part told me trauma can do funny things to memory and he probably simply misspoke.
It was possible.
Wasn’t it?