Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Stone
Cutie in the unicorn costume had caught me off guard with his questions and I honestly wasn’t sure how to answer.
In fact, I needed a moment to glance around and make certain there wasn’t a camera pointed our way, because I couldn’t tell if I was being punked, or if Payden was going somewhere with the questions he’d asked.
No cameras, at least, not any I could spot. Just a smiling man with sad eyes that were a bit puffy, as if he’d been crying recently.
“I’ve been on many trains,” I replied. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s the best way to get from place to place. There’s no traffic to contend with and I find the sound of the wheels to be as rhythmic and soothing as a song.”
“This is my first train ride,” Payden blurted.
“How are you liking it so far?”
“I love it,” he declared, smile slipping as he shuffled from one foot to the other. “But I wasn’t supposed to be on this trip alone. I have a whole other ticket. I saved a lot for it. I don’t want it to go to waste. Would you want to come with me?”
“Just like that?” I asked, for certain now that I was being punked.
“I-I mean…” He stammered, shuffled, then squared his shoulders and looked me dead in the eye. “Yeah. Just like that.”
“And where would we be headed?” I asked, humoring him, because there was something vulnerable in his eyes that kept me from telling him to step off.
“Just up and back down the coast,” Payden explained. “It’s a big o’ rolling Pride party. That’s why I asked if you were homophobic.”
“I see,” I replied, eying the train and the others, some also in costume, standing on the platform, chatting, while passengers got on. “Something tells me I don’t have much time to make up my mind, do I?”
“Nope.” He replied smiling again before glancing back over his shoulder. “I didn’t know I was going to be taking the trip alone. My partner was supposed to meet me, but he sent a breakup text instead. This was supposed to be our special vacation.”
Sad again, eyes shimmering with unshed tears, but his jaw was stubbornly set as he refused to let them fall.
Dumping someone via text was one of the shittiest ways to break up, in my opinion, and it wasn’t like I had anywhere to be. I lifted the guitar strap over my head, scooped the money from the case and stuffed it in my pockets so I could replace it with the guitar, before I stood.
“Guess we’d better get moving then,” I declared as I slung the case and my weathered backpack over my shoulder.
“Seriously! Oh my gosh, thank you,” he said, suddenly a whirlwind of motion as he grabbed my hand and all but tugged me into the depot, rambling words spilling from his lips so fast it was a struggle to keep up.
“We need to get the ticket changed. I hope there isn’t a line.
If there’s a line do you think someone will let me cut, since the train will be leaving as soon as our supplies are loaded.
They were running late and…. oh, no line. ”
Right up to the counter we went, my head spinning as he explained the situation to the kind woman behind the counter, who immediately got as indignant over his plight as I had.
I couldn’t imagine booking a vacation for someone and having them stand me up.
It was the kind of shitty behavior that made me hate humans sometimes.
Well, truthfully, after some of the things I’d seen while living on the streets, that hate reared its head more often than not.
I handed over my ID when she asked for it, and the next thing I knew I was headed for a train full of people decked out in rainbow colors and a random collection of costumes and gear.
“Well sir, it looks like your partner caught up to you after all,” the Porter said.
“Uh,” Payden stammered, cheeks flushing.
“Yup,” I replied, wanting to spare him the embarrassment of explaining, his pride had already taken enough hits as it was. “And more than a little ashamed of having missed the start of the trip.”
“I imagine so,” the Porter replied, though his shrewd gaze suggested that he saw through our ruse.
Still, his response was as professional as they came. He didn’t bat an eye as he checked my ticket and welcomed me aboard.
“This is our cabin,” Payden announced when we reached a space that could definitely be considered close quarters, not that I hadn’t slept in smaller. Try sharing a van with three other guys as you crisscross the country.
“I think I need a moment to sort out what just happened,” I admitted as I stood just inside the cabin, looking for a place to put my guitar.
“You agreed to go on vacation with me,” Payden explained, shuffling a few things around so I could tuck my guitar in a corner where it wouldn’t slide around when the train stopped.
“That I did,” I said, setting my backpack down so I could place my guitar case in the spot.
“Please say you don’t regret it.”
The vulnerability in his voice made my heart ache. I couldn’t imagine how humiliated he’d been, waiting for his partner to show up, full of hope and excitement to share his first train ride with someone who was special enough that he’d arranged all of this for him.
“Nope, not even a little,” I replied. “I’m just blown away is all. I thought it was a joke at first.”
“And you still said yes?”
“You can fake a story, but you can’t fake the hurt I saw in your eyes,” I explained. “That’s what made up my mind for me. “I’m sorry your partner decided to show his true colors in the worst possible way.”
“He was my Daddy,” Payden admitted. “Or at least, I thought he was, but he rarely had time for me, which probably should have been my first clue.”
I opened my mouth to ask for clarification, since outside, he’d said partner and not father, when it dawned on me exactly what he meant and I was doubly pissed off on his behalf.
“Sounds like a pretend Daddy to me,” I grumbled.
“You know what a Daddy is?”
“I do.”
“Are you one?”
Wow, he didn’t hold back when a question popped into his head, which was refreshing, since too many people beat around the bush and wound up in the middle of a misunderstanding.
It deserved an honest answer, despite how complicated it might be.
“I’ve been a caretaker a time or two,” I admitted. “At clubs I used to belong to. But the lifestyle I led never left room to find a boy of my own.”
“Did you want one?”
Chuckling, I shook my head and unfolded one of the chairs, sitting across from where he sat at the foot of the bed.
“No,” I replied, hoping it didn’t sound as harsh to him as it sounded to me, so I hurried to explain. “Only because I didn’t have time to devote to anyone that way. I was…”
Sighing, I rubbed the back of my neck.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he said.
The thing was, I kinda did.
“After what you shared with me on the platform, you deserve the truth. It’s just not a story I share with many people, well, anyone, really, unless I’m feeling nostalgic, which is rare.”
“Oh.”
“I was a professional musician,” I explained.
“Spent years touring with my band. The only time we stuck around a place was when we were recording a new album. I was in a long-term committed relationship with my guitar and our music. It never seemed fair to bring anyone into that world and all the excess and vices that went with it.”
“Like drugs and partying?”
“For some of my bandmates, definitely,” I said. “For me, it was thrill seeking and seeing how close to the edge I could push without winding up in pieces.”
“That would be scary.”
“Exactly. So why do that to someone, since I wasn’t going to stop?
I wanted to be scared because it added to the rush.
The problem was it took a bigger and bigger rush to make me feel anything until it got to the point where I was just reckless.
When the band fell apart, I didn’t have a plan or anything to fall back on.
Just my old girl over there. Which is why you found me playing on that platform. ”
The whistle blew, a sure sign that we were about to be underway.
“How long has it been since your band broke up?”
“Two years,” I explained. “I’ve been bumming around the country ever since, hopping trains, though nothing like this one. Usually, I climb in an open freight car and scramble out before I get caught. It’s been a while since I was on one legally.”
“Whoa, that’s…”
“Illegal, I know.”
“I was gonna say cool,” he replied.
“It’s had its moments,” I said. “Hey, why don’t you let me grab a shower and change, then I’ll be happy to answer any other questions you have for me.”
“Okay,” he replied. “Watch your head. It’s cramped in there, but there are plenty of towels and they’re soft too. I love that because I hate scratchy ones.”
“You’re not the only one,” I replied as I started digging in the bag at my feet, pulling out clean clothes and my toiletry kit.
“Can I ask one more question before you get in?”
“Sure.”
“What was the name of your band?”
Damn, I should have seen that coming. He was going to look it up, I just knew it. Did I really want him watching the old concert footage and interviews that were still floating all over the internet?
Some of my stage dives were epic. Legendary even.
I’d once scaled a rotating festival camera just to dive off into a pit in the middle of my drummer’s solo.
Recklessness in action, but at least he’d have the chance to see firsthand the man I’d been and the life I led. Gathering everything, I met his gaze.
“Savage Destruction,” I replied before disappearing into the shower.
The moment the warm water cascaded over me I groaned, especially when it started heating up.
Warm showers were a luxury, hot ones were rare, as I soaped up my hair, I couldn’t decide if I was lucky he’d happened along or a god damned fool for saying yes and hopping yet another train, though in decidedly less dramatic fashion than normal.
Pete was going to be confused as hell when I stopped showing up.
Damn, that or he was gonna think he’d driven me off with his pressing questions and the advice I always refused to take.
It might have been cramped in here, but I’d have showered in a pine box if it offered the kind of water pressure they had.
I stayed in longer than I needed to, first to scrub every inch of myself, twice, but also to put a bit of distance between me, his questions, and the point-blank way he’d asked if I’d wanted to be a Daddy.
If my life had been different or I’d been a better man back then, I’d have known what it was like to have a boy of my own a long time ago.
Truth was, I’d been as selfish as I’d been considerate, not wanting to give up my reckless ways or put someone else through the terror of watching some of the stunts I’d pulled.
Sometimes I’d thought about finding someone as wild as I was, only there was no way in hell I’d have been able to stand on the sidelines and watch them pull the shit I pulled.
That was the kind of fear I’d always tried to avoid.
Hypocritical, maybe, and probably a double standard, but I’d never have wanted to see the person I loved risking their lives the way I did time and again. All in the hopes of feeling something besides emptiness, loss, and a longing I’d never taken the time to adequately analyze.
Burying it was easier.
But after seeing the way Payden had put himself out there on the platform, knowing he might be rejected, I had to wonder if maybe the easy path had been me being a coward, refusing to open myself up to yet another loss.
The question now was, could I be better than that, given this unexpected opportunity to connect with someone who deserved a better version of me after what he’d just been through.
And damnit all… I wanted to give it to him.