Chapter 4 Isaac
Isaac
How lucky could Isaac be? The man who asked him on an impromptu date, in the middle of an amusement park of sorts, operated the carousel. Wasn’t there a word for that? Fate or something? His grandmother would tell him it was the universe’s way of giving him a sign.
But a sign for what?
What sort of sign would Rafael be? A new beginning? But if Rafael worked at this park and lived here, that meant he probably wasn’t up for traveling. Although that begged the question, did Isaac want to travel anymore?
Being a digital graphic designer and artist, he took his work with him as he traveled. He had several clients he worked with constantly and always had new ones seeking his talent. It wasn’t like he struggled for money, considering the significant income he earned from his photography.
Isaac kept a small client base for his digital work just to keep him from going crazy or insane with the lack of a day job.
At least now. He had decided that not too long ago.
Yet why again? He felt the need to travel, and at the time it seemed like the best course of action.
Was there a reason he sold his apartment for his RV? Was this place and Rafael the reason?
It wasn’t like Isaac believed in that sort of thing. No matter how many times his grandmother tried to get him to keep crystals and charms on his body or in his home. However, at that moment, as Rafael leaned in, Isaac felt like he needed a boost, a charm to make certain he didn’t mess up.
Rafael had told him he was special. How special could he be for a carny? Could he still use that word since this park was a permanent fixture? He’d have to ask later. At that moment, in the sliver of time, all else faded, and Rafael slanted their lips together.
Was a zap normal when kissing someone? Isaac couldn’t recall ever experiencing that zap before with anyone he had kissed. Not that he could even remember names or faces; not with Rafael’s essence consuming him. In a kiss. A simple kiss that was easily becoming Isaac’s favorite.
Their hands fought for purchase of the other, Isaac’s fingers itching to touch Rafael’s skin. Their tongues curled around each other, flavors of coffee mingling with the richness that had to be Rafael. Isaac needed more.
Breaking apart for a much-needed breath, Isaac found himself looking into strange eyes instead of mirrored sunglasses.
Gasping, heart skipping a beat, Isaac felt himself pulling back. That wasn’t normal. That wasn’t right. His hands fell away from Rafael as he watched the man’s expression turn from blissed out to crushed.
Why was he crushed? Isaac was the one observing Rafael's strange pupils.
“I’ve—” he stuttered out, trying to extract his body from Rafael’s. Had they really become that entangled?
Rafael let him go, and Isaac wobbled on the bench before Rafael adjusted himself and then his sunglasses.
“I’m sorry.” The man spoke quickly and hurried away from the picnic bench.
Isaac felt as if he were experiencing whiplash. Excitement. Joy. Horror. And now sorrow. What the hell was wrong with him?
So the man’s eyes weren’t normal. That didn’t mean anything, right?
Obviously it was why the man was wearing sunglasses.
And in their urgency to suck each other's faces, Isaac had revealed what Rafael kept secret. Would he have told him? It wasn’t like Isaac gave the man a chance. It was an accident that startled Isaac.
So why was he still sitting on the bench watching Rafael weave through the crowd?
“WAIT!” Isaac yelled as he jumped up, hastily grabbing their trash, before he rushed after Rafael.
Who wouldn’t be startled by such a revelation?
He needed to reach Rafael. He needed to explain. He needed….
“Wait,” he huffed as he dumped the trash in a bin and ducked around families and couples walking towards tables.
“Please,” Isaac whispered beneath his breath, not wanting to sound distressed to onlookers, and found himself stalling when Rafael turned to him at that lone word.
He couldn’t have heard, right? They were well over five hundred feet away from each other. Rafael couldn’t have possibly heard him.
Or could he?
What had his grandmother told him once—that there was a world beyond our eyes?
No.
It wasn’t real. Right? Were all his grandmother’s stories real? What did it mean?
Isaac found his feet moving before he could process his own thoughts.
Rafael stood just outside the wooded area, just out of the crowd's path. It wasn’t like anyone was stopping to let them move to each other without hindrances.
Of course not; it couldn’t be a romcom movie where the crowd parted as the main characters rushed to each other.
They were oblivious to Isaac’s internal confusion and racing heart beating out of his chest.
Rafael stood as still as a statue, a beacon, as Isaac stepped closer and closer. A few steps separated them, and Isaac felt himself holding his breath.
“Please. Can we go somewhere private?” Isaac asked, not wanting to rehash anything between them out in the open. Rafael’s secrets were not for the public eye. Or else he wouldn’t have taken Isaac to an out-of-the-way table, nor would he be wearing heavily mirrored glasses.
Isaac could almost feel Rafael’s eyes scan his face before the man nodded, tilting his head as if to indicate Isaac should follow him.
For some reason, Isaac would easily follow him. He wouldn’t need to be persuaded or dragged. The connection he already felt to Rafael should scare him. Yet it didn’t. And he knew why.
The way his heart nearly leapt out of his chest when Rafael had left the table told Isaac more about their link than anything.
Isaac never felt that panic with any of his other boyfriends or girlfriends.
Yet after a few minutes with Rafael, Isaac was already hooked in a way that he may cry if left unresolved.
As they moved through the crowd, Isaac noticed several attendees staring at them suspiciously.
Cautiously? Concerningly? Was that even a word?
Isaac shook off his internal monologue, aware the strange glances they received would normally be cause for concern, but he wondered whether that concern was directed at him or at Rafael.
If Rafael worked and lived here, it stood to reason that his coworkers would be concerned for him.
They passed by a cotton candy stand, and Isaac misstepped as he practically drooled over the sugary treat. And then, because he hadn’t been paying attention, he ran into Rafael. Bouncing off the man, Isaac released a nervous giggle, his cheeks heating. “Sorry,” he shrugged and patted his face.
Rafael’s eyes darted from his to the cotton candy—how could he tell where the man was looking? He didn’t know, but he could. Or it was the fact he could just read Rafael’s expressions and assume that’s where the man was looking.
Without another word, not that they said much anyway, Rafael stepped up to the booth and grabbed a bag of cotton candy. He handed it to Isaac before continuing on his path through the park.
Stunned, Isaac shook himself and hurried after the man. Was Isaac that easy to read? Was there more to it than a simple connection?
Damn, he should have listened closer to his grandmother’s stories, even if he retained some information. Would her journals be in his RV, or would they be back in his storage unit several states away?
Opening the bag of cotton candy, Isaac moaned as the flavored spun sugar hit his tongue and instantly melted. It was super fresh and tasted amazing. Rafael’s shoulders stiffened as they had when Isaac moaned at the coffee and pretzel. Was that a good thing, Isaac wondered? He sort of hoped it was.
The sounds of the park faded as Rafael led him down a hidden path that said employees only. At the end of the trail, a dark forest loomed. A lone person sat sentry off to the side.
Rafael nodded to the man, waited for Isaac, and then they stepped into the forest. Yet it wasn’t a forest as Isaac crossed from a concrete to a brick pathway. And Isaac swore he felt a chill pass through him much like walking into his grandmother’s house. What the hell was going on?
“Whoa,” Isaac found himself in awe. Tucked away behind the trees, which were both a mirage and real, sat a community of houses and apartments.
These were not the trailers one would expect for a circus; instead, they were actual apartment buildings.
This area hadn’t been on his map. How was it hidden from spying eyes?
Isaac felt himself lagging behind and jogged a few steps to keep up with Rafael as they passed more people who gave him questioning glances.
“Rafael?”
“Almost home,” Rafael gruffly answered.
So this is where they lived? The people who worked the park lived in a secluded section of forest. It looked modern and amazing in architectural constructs.
Then again, that could just be Isaac’s design eye.
There were trees in various stages of growth scattered between the buildings.
It wasn’t a normal housing edition either; the houses and apartments were dispersed without a pattern.
It was quite homey, in fact. Quiet and quaint.
At a door, Rafael held the object open and ushered Isaac through it with his hand at Isaac’s back.
Isaac tried to catalogue everything he was seeing as quickly as possible, but Rafael made it difficult as they traversed up a flight of stairs and down a hallway.
Another door opened into what Isaac expected to be Rafael’s home.
“I don’t want you to think this is presumptuous of me, but you asked for privacy, and this is as private as I can get. I will take you back to the park whenever you want. I can even have someone come get you.” Rafael shook his head immediately. “No, that wouldn’t work. But you aren’t trapped here.”
Isaac never felt trapped and told that to Rafael in no uncertain terms.
“Is it a birth defect?” Isaac asked to get the conversation out of the way.
“Sort of.”
“Okay?” Isaac waited for Rafael to elaborate, and when the man didn’t, Isaac turned and made himself at home. “What are you?” Isaac asked from his seat on the plush couch by the balcony door.
Rafael tripped over his own feet as he entered the space. “Wh— why would you ask that?”
Isaac lifted a shoulder in a shrug. Cotton candy in hand, he took another bite.
“Since meeting you, no, since arriving at this park, I have felt—sensed—another layer of something. I don’t have words for it, and I should have listened to my grandmother more, but she believed in more than what we see. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“What are your thoughts on me?”
“Paranormal?”
Rafael deflated as he sank into the couch seat across from Isaac. “Who was your grandmother?”
That was a loaded question. “A psychic from the Quarter in New Orleans. Madam Love.”
At Rafael’s haunted look, Isaac knew he should have listened closer to his grandmother. Now he was kicking himself in the ass. What would this man reveal?