33. The Cabin
33
THE CABIN
S tanding on the platform with his hands in his pockets, Mathias was berating himself for his half-baked, absurd plan. The same inability for logistics. There he was, waiting, sweat gathering on his palms, gaze flickering back and forth from the platform to the departures board. In fifteen minutes, the train he’d booked would be leaving for Deauville, with or without them. He’d watched a few of them arrive and depart already, indiscriminately spilling out scowling and smiling faces, business suits and rowdy children, while he stood there, uncertain. He thought he’d arrive at Meudon and sweep Alberto off his feet in a great-escape-type gesture. But after their earlier conversation, he felt stupid waiting here. He was stupid, and Alberto was not coming. Furious at himself, Mathias removed the chain with Alberto’s lock from around his neck and shoved it in his pocket. One of the suits knocked into him, and he staggered back, but before he could bark at him, his phone vibrated in his hand, and his heart stopped.
Alberto
I got my phone back.
Suddenly, all of Mathias’s anger was gone, and he was jumping in the air. “Yes!” Ignoring the spooked gasp of a passerby, he landed on his feet, his free hand clenched into a fist. In his chest, his heart was now drumming erratically. “Fuck, yes.”
The next person who knocked into him apologized and received a smile, almost followed by a hug. “That’s alright,” he said. “No harm done.” Everything was fine. Alberto was texting. With shaking fingertips, Mathias went to reply, but his phone vibrated again, announcing another text.
Alberto
I saw that.
Mathias froze, his head snapping up. Passengers were descending on the platform in droves, obscuring his view. Mathias tore his neck trying to find Alberto, but once again, he seemed to elude him. And then, at last, a fair distance ahead of him, he caught sight of an angelic face, eyelids heavy with sleep, his phone lifted over his head. Mathias glanced down at his own phone, a laugh of relief breaking from his chest.
Alberto
So, I’m on the wrong platform.
I can see that , Mathias thought, his eyes prickling. He made a gesture with his hands toward the shops. Alberto clumsily made his way in that direction, and Mathias did the same, his burning gaze fixed on him. He barreled through rows and rows of stunned tourists and hissing Frenchmen without a care, until Alberto was right in front of him, within reach. Unsmiling, as always. Only then did Mathias stop, his pulse thrumming, his mouth dry.
Uncertainty paralyzed him, something he couldn’t understand. What to say? No. What to do. Mathias recalled that one time he did something right. Grabbed him in the parking lot under his building where they kissed for the first time. When everything fell into place.
Fingertips itching, he reached for him, hooked his hand around his neck, and pulled his face to his own. Their foreheads met. Alberto said nothing. Mathias felt his fingers slowly but resolutely gripping the fabric of his hoodie and pulling him closer. Hating himself for setting up a reunion in one of the busiest locations in Paris, Mathias maneuvered them both toward the side of a kiosk. Now that they were skin to skin, close enough to see through each other’s lies, Mathias gradually calmed down. There was no need for struggle now. They had found each other again.
He didn’t realize how tight he was holding him until Alberto poked him with the tip of his nose.
“You’re— ”
Mathias jumped back, embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”
Alberto spoke again, but his words were lost to the bustle of the crowd agglutinated around them.
“What? What did you say?”
From now on, Mathias didn’t want to miss anything he would say. Not one word. Never again.
“I don’t mind,” Alberto said.
“Don’t mind what?”
“Being held by you.”
Mathias stared into his face. He wouldn’t say it now in the middle of the station like an idiot. He almost took the girafon ’s hand to lead him but ultimately refrained from doing so. If someone saw them like this… if someone dared protest, or worse, sneer at Alberto or attempted to touch him, Mathias would end up throwing them off the platform. He couldn’t take the risk of anything breaking them apart.
“Come,” he said, numb from relief. “We should board the train.”
He still took Alberto by his arm, right above his elbow, and led him down to their coach. He took his duffel bag, too. It felt too light, like a bag packed in a panic by a runaway.
“How did you get out?” Mathias asked.
“Checked myself out.”
“That easy?”
Alberto nodded as he climbed onto the train. “They only keep me around as long as I’m paying. I no longer want to stay or pay. So, they let me go.”
“Ah.” After a quick glance at his ticket, Mathias led the way toward their seats. “So, you were just… hanging out?” At the mental health center… with that long-legged blowjob-distributing bastard whose name I don’t care to remember.
“I was resting.”
“And I disturbed your rest.”
“You tend to do that.” Before Mathias could apologize, Alberto added, “That’s okay.”
They stopped in the middle of the aisle while a group of four ahead of them fought for the window seats. Alberto watched them argue through glassy eyes.
“Your mother…” Mathias said, regaining his attention. “You should tell her you’re with me. So she doesn’t freak out and have me murdered or something.”
“I already texted her. She knows I’m going to Deauville with you.” Then his brow creased in an adorable frown. “It’s Friday. Don’t you have school?”
“Hum…” Mathias was tempted to lie. “I called in sick. I thought this was more important.”
The guarded look he received in response filled him with doubt. Alberto came, so that meant he wanted to be here with him, right? So, why did it seem like there was a giant wall standing between them?
The group of four finally settled, and Mathias and Alberto reached their seats. Mathias put their bags in the compartment overhead and slipped into the window seat. Alberto slid into the other one and was immediately pulled into a yawn.
“I like trains,” he said, his voice raspy.
He was a stray cat, a creature that barged out of nowhere into Mathias’s life, then became a necessity. Mathias tentatively reached out to stroke his hand.
“You do?”
“Mm-hm.” Alberto didn’t react to the touch, so Mathias retrieved his hand in silence.
It was the middle of the afternoon, and the sky was cloudy, as usual. It should clear by the time they’d reach Normandie, which is what Mathias was hoping for. Next to him, Alberto was quiet, his eyelids heavy. Mathias wanted to touch him again but didn’t know how to ask. He tried, “Do you want the window?”
“No, thanks. I’d fall asleep straight away.”
“You can fall asleep, it’s fine.”
Alberto cast his eyes down. “I don’t want the window.”
A few seconds later, the conductor announced their departure. As the train slowly and smoothly left the station, the last-minute passengers claimed their seats and made themselves comfortable for their two-hour journey. To everyone, Mathias and Alberto were just two friends on a train. To Mathias at least, the truth was different. They had so much to talk about, but he knew this wasn’t the right place for a heart to heart. For ten long minutes, he steeled himself, before a look at Alberto’s sleepy face convinced him to act.
“Come here,” he said, beckoning him closer. “Here.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Alberto accepted his offer, leaned into his embrace, and fell asleep with his face half buried in his clothes, Mathias’s arm wound around his shoulder .
At last, Mathias exhaled a long breath. Gray suburban buildings flew by as he held Alberto close against him. He received a few odd looks from passengers on their way back from the bathroom, but nothing like the old lady facing them a handful of seats farther across the aisle. Her narrowed eyes lingered on the two of them, her mouth twisted in displeasure. Mathias calmly held her gaze. After a huff of distaste, she forcefully opened her crosswords magazine. He never blinked. Eventually, she looked away.
Mathias briefly buried his lips in Alberto’s hair before returning his gaze to the window. His hair smelled the same. Lavender, with faint notes of mint. Mathias, despite his calm countenance, was overwhelmed with joy. It’s true there was a chance, as small as may be, that their train might crash, or someone might come in and attack them, or they might just drop dead from a heart attack, and it would be the end of the world. But if it weren’t, if nothing happened, and they made it to The Cabin, then Mathias would tell him… everything.
“What is this place?” Alberto asked, his brow wrinkled.
About three hours later, they had finally reached their destination. Before them stood a stylish apartment complex built in the Norman style, with its half-timbered facade and checkerboard brickwork. Mathias pointed at the sunlit corner unit situated on the ground floor.
“It’s The Cabin.” In truth, it looked everything like a luxurious little apartment and nothing like a cabin, but because it was on the beach front, its owner, Van Bergen, called it The Cabin. “You like it?” Mathias asked, unsure. “It’s nice. There’s a pool.”
Alberto slid him a pointed look.
“We don’t have to use the pool,” Mathias said quickly.
“Thanks.”
Mathias led them inside after a brief struggle to open the door with a key set on a cumbersome keychain—an inflatable life saver in the Dutch flag colors. Alberto dropped his bag on the polished hardwood floor with an incredulous expression.
“Did you rent this?”
“No.” Mathias dumped his own backpack by the door. “It belongs to a friend of my parents. He lets us borrow it whenever we want.”
“Oh.” Alberto looked thoughtful. “Would that be the same friend who buys the equivalent of an entire flower shop every week to adorn your mother’s grave? ”
“Yes.”
“I see.”
Mathias jerked his thumb toward the door. “Why don’t you settle down, take a shower, whatever you want. I’m gonna stop by the grocery store and get us something to eat. You must be starving.”
“Not really.” Alberto shuffled across the living room toward the terrace. His eyes brightened at the sight of the ocean only a short distance away. “Although, a salad would be nice.”
“A salad. Got it.”
When Mathias returned from the store, Alberto was wrapped in a giant towel and sleeping face down in the master bedroom, his mouth open, as if he’d tumbled out of the shower and landed right in the middle of the bed. Mathias left him there and returned to the kitchen to prepare the salad, his thoughts wondering as he broke a fresh lettuce into parts. Alberto wasn’t aloof on purpose, nor was he uninterested in people as he seemed. He was just high on whatever he was given. Like Dad after Mathias’s mother had passed. Six months in the dark where Mathias took care of everything, the meals, the chores, the grateful Elisa, while his father lay in bed, tear-soaking the sheets, ignoring his best friends’ calls and eventually turning to the drink. Now, Mathias felt he understood. If he had almost no energy, he wouldn’t care for company either. For stupid, pointless conversations. He wouldn’t waste his time taking chances on needy or narrow-minded people. He would probably be sleeping all the time.
Mathias stopped slicing tomatoes and glanced down at the knife in his hand. If he were that tired, he wouldn’t have the energy to go to clubs, get drunk, and sleep around. Did Alberto change during the course of their fucked-up relationship? Wasn’t there a time where he seemed different?
Mathias wondered if Alberto would sleep all evening after sleeping so much on the train. He wondered if he’d have the chance to speak to him tonight. He wondered how to even bring the topic up. Alberto never said what he wanted him to say, infuriating him, but he wasn’t any better. In fact, he was worse, because this entire time, he was never mad at Alberto, but at himself. He was the one, he was the one who should stop fucking around and tell him how he always felt about him. Then perhaps Alberto would let his guard down, finally revealing if his feelings were mutual.
To his surprise, Alberto joined him twenty minutes later with quilt marks on his cheek. He mumbled an apology Mathias nervously waved away.
“Come sit.” Mathias hurried to pull out a chair for him. “Here’s the salad, vegetarian of course. There’s also bread and cheese.” He took a step back, his stomach in knots again. “I don’t know what you like.”
Alberto took his seat with a blank expression. “Domestic.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Mathias was hoping they could open up while eating, but Alberto thanked him for the food and ate his salad in silence, and while the cogs in Mathias’s brain were working so fast for a way to unload without sounding like an ass, he found himself unable to say anything at all.
“It’s really nice,” Alberto said, his plate far from empty.
“It’s okay if you don’t like it. You don’t have to force yourself.”
“Oh.” He pushed the plate away with relief. “It’s just that I don’t have much of an appetite these days.”
“That’s fine.” Mathias got up. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean this up. Sit down, make yourself comfortable.”
After a brief hesitation, Alberto immediately returned to the terrace, opening the double doors and wrapping himself up in a blanket before claiming a seat outside. He watched with a dazed expression as the sun bled into the sea.
When he was done with cleaning, Mathias put his jacket on and joined him outside. He sat on the chair closest to him, his pulse pounding in his ears. An unnerving silence settled between them. Mathias didn’t know how he’d be able to go ahead without help from the gods, but Alberto broke the silence first, his voice so gentle, it was almost stolen by the waves breaking on the shore.
“Our house in Napoli also had a view on the ocean. I could hear the other kids laughing through the windows of my mother’s bedroom. Sometimes, I would watch them play.”
“Did you…” Mathias hesitated, afraid to spook him. “Did you go there yourself?”
“Rarely. My father didn’t like us going outside. Not without him anyway. We just stayed in the house and waited for him to return.” A slight frown marred his face. “It was a big house. It wasn’t so bad.”
Mathias disagreed with that, and brought his chair closer to him. “I have so many questions.”
“Oh, no.” Alberto shook his head, his eyes falling on him. “You can ask me one. One question. ”
“Only one?”
“That’s the rule.”
“No take-backs, I assume.”
Alberto gave another shake of the head.
Mathias bit the inside of his cheek. One question. What was the one question he really wanted to ask, now that they were here at the edge of the world? Emotion rose within him when at last, he found the words.
“What happened?” he asked. “Between us. What happened?”
“It got boring.”
Alberto’s answer was followed by a pause, then a sudden puff of laughter from them both, followed by real, belly-deep laughter coming from Mathias, who feared he wouldn’t be able to stop, fat tears welling in his eyes. When he regained control of himself, he stole a glance at Alberto. He was staring at the horizon, the ghost of laughter still on his lips.
“I’ll tell you what,” Mathias said, sniffing. “It was a mistake, saying goodbye. I don’t want to say goodbye.”
It was a moment before Alberto spoke again. “You said we were done.”
“I should have never said that.” Mathias leaned toward him. “I was wrong. I’ll never say it again.”
In lieu of an answer, Alberto gave him a cautious look, as if trying to get a read on him. “The sun is setting,” he finally said. “Darkness is coming.”
“That’s okay.” Goose bumps flared on his forearms as Mathias held out his hand. “There’s beauty in darkness, too.”