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Chapter Four
The Questions
Three questions cycled ceaselessly through Nathan’s mind as he stared at his
computer monitor: What is Russell going to say to me when he gets here? Is he
still coming? The third question was even more challenging: What am I going to
do about Blake?
Nathan’s brain kept traveling back hours prior, he and Blake in his bedroom,
kissing and touching, Blake’s mouth and tongue in places on Nathan’s body they
should not have been. Nathan tried to forget the immense pleasure Blake gave
him, but it did not work. He also failed at attempting to quit imagining what
would have happened if he allowed Blake to continue on the course he was going
so quickly and skillfully.
I fucked things up, Nathan thought bitterly.
Nathan would have been lying to himself if he said that he had not anticipated
something like this happening between him and Blake. He had tried to prolong it
as much as possible.
“What are you thinking about over there?”
Nathan turned his head in the direction of his coworker, Ashley. She observed
him with puzzled interest. “Huh?”
Ashley played with her ponytail and smacked her gum like she was still in the
seventh grade. “You look hella stuck on something.”
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“Hell no, don’t give me that ‘don’t worry about it’ shit,” Ashley said, hopping
off her stool. She headed over to Nathan’s window. “I know when something’s
bothering you. And I wanna know.”
Thankfully there were no customers in the bank to hear Ashley’s loud, frank
remarks. There were only two personal bankers on the platform side. Their
attention remained consumed with checking their emails on their computers and
whatever other menial tasks they were performing to appear busy. For a Thursday
morning right before noon, traffic was unusually slow. Nathan probably helped
fewer than ten people since the doors opened at nine o’ clock.
“Something happened between me and my roommate,” Nathan admitted.
Ashley’s immaculately plucked eyebrows raised in surprise. “The short one with
the nice ass or the tall, chocolate sexy motherfucker?”
Both Blake and Justin had been in the branch several times to pick Nathan up
after work. Nathan felt uncomfortable with Ashley’s reference to Blake as the
‘tall, chocolate sexy motherfucker’ even though the description matched
perfectly. “The second one you said,” Nathan answered.
A wide smile spread across Ashley’s face. “So when you say ‘something’, do you
mean…?” Ashley balled her hand into a fist and started rapidly moving it to and
away from her mouth. “Or some other shit?”
Flashes of embarrassment hit Nathan. “Um, we shouldn’t be talking about this at
work, especially out in the open.”
Ashley scoffed and glanced around the small, mostly empty branch. “Nobody’s here
but us.”
“Still, I don’t want all my business out there,” Nathan countered.
“Whatever,” Ashley said, rolling her eyes. She headed back over to her stool and
plopped down. “So how was it?”
“Didn’t I just say I don’t wanna talk about it?”
“Bullshit. You know damn well you wanna talk about it. Why else would you have
that dumb look on your face?”
Now Nathan rolled his eyes. She was partly right. A tiny fraction of him did
want to talk about what happened with Blake. Although he preferred not to talk
to Ashley about it, despite her being the closest thing Nathan had to a friend
other than Blake and Justin.
Originally, Nathan planned on waiting until he got home and discuss the matter
with Justin. Yet he figured by now that Blake most likely already divulged the
details to him.
Nathan was saved from having to speak to Ashley, as a customer walked into the
bank. Nathan recognized him immediately, Daniel Thorn, his creative writing
teacher from the nearby community college. He was tall, in his early forties,
with very thinly cropped grayish-black hair, a neatly groomed beard shadowing
his box-shaped jaw, and intelligent amber-colored eyes. He strolled in wearing a
pair of loose fitting navy blue sweatpants and a matching colored sweatshirt
with a Cal Berkeley insignia on it.
“I’ll help you over here, Mr. Thorn,” Nathan called, perhaps a little bit too
eagerly.
Mr. Thorn headed straight to Nathan’s teller window, passing right by Ashley,
who was too busy admiring her pink fingernails to even notice. He smiled as he
approached. “Morning, Nathan,” he said very cordially. “How’s your day going so
far?”
Nathan had been taking Daniel Thorn’s class for only two weeks, since the spring
semester started. It only met once a week on Monday evenings for three hours,
which for Nathan was not long enough. The class could have been five hours and
still Nathan would have felt like it could have been longer.
From the age of thirteen, Nathan always dreamed of being a novelist and poet. In
his middle and early high school years, he had filled dozens of notebooks and
journals with stories and poems, only to have the majority of them ridiculed and
destroyed by his sadistic older brother, Caleb. Five years passed since Nathan
picked up a pen to write anything other than school-assigned essays. He joined
Daniel Thorn’s class as a way of reinvigorating his creative spirit, as well as
finding a more therapeutic way of purging his melancholy.
Also, Nathan really enjoyed Mr. Thorn himself. He was one of the best
instructors and one of the most intelligent men Nathan had encountered in a long
time. In class, Nathan loved hearing him talk about anything, from the favorite
books he read, to the ideas of books he planned to write. His mature good-looks
only enhanced his appeal to Nathan.
“Good so far,” Nathan answered, putting an emphasis on those last two words.
“How about you?”
Mr. Thorn shrugged and smiled. He had great teeth, Nathan noticed. Nathan
usually sat in the back of class, mostly seeing Mr. Thorn from a distance. Up
close, Nathan could fully appreciate his looks.
As Nathan processed Mr. Thorn’s transaction, there was silence, except for
Nathan’s fingers rapidly typing on the keyboard. He glanced over to see Ashley
sending a text message on her cell phone. When he returned his attention to Mr.
Thorn, Nathan saw that he was still smiling at him. There was enough quiet for
Nathan to ‘accidentally’ hone in on his thoughts: He looks really good when he’s
dressed up, he heard Mr. Thorn express mentally.
Nathan’s heart skipped a beat or two. Now the challenge was to pretend he did
not hear what he heard. He sped through the rest of the transaction, barely able
to concentrate as he counted out Mr. Thorn’s cash. Afterwards, he smiled
awkwardly and said, “Is there anything else I can do to you—I mean, for you,
today, Mr. Thorn?”
Mr. Thorn took the money from the counter, still wearing his gorgeous grin. “No,
that will be all today, Nathan…and you can call me Daniel.”
Ashley looked up from her cell phone for a split second at Daniel and then
continued what she was doing, a thin smile slipping across her mouth.
“See you on Monday,” Daniel said and walked off.
“Yeah, see you on Monday.”
Ashley waited until Daniel was fully out of the bank before she spoke. “So are
you sucking his dick too?”
Nathan thought he would die of mortification. “I’m not sucking anyone’s dick,”
he whispered angrily, hoping that the two bankers on the other side of the bank
had not heard, although with Ashley’s loud voice, that would have been
impossible.
“I thought you said you gave your roommate a blowjob this morning,” Ashley
stated.
“I didn’t suck anybody’s dick this morning!” Nathan yelled, his voice bellowing
through the branch. Both bankers stopped typing on their computers and gawked at
him, as if wondering if they heard correctly.
“Well, damn! Don’t get all mad at me,” Ashley said. “I’m just trying to help.”
Nathan was about to ask, “Help with what?” but decided not to. Trying to
rationalize with Ashley was like trying to reason with an embryo, unnecessary
and impossible.
Time dragged. Between customers, Nathan checked his cell phone to see if he had
received any messages from either Blake or Russell. He had not. While he did not
really expect to hear from Russell, he figured Blake would have called him by
now…or at least send a text. Maybe he’s waiting for me to say something first,
he considered.
While that may have been true, Nathan did not see it as his obligation to call
Blake first. It had been Blake’s decision to overstep the boundaries of their
friendship, not his. Nathan was glad he stopped it before it went even further,
yet he still wondered what would have happened if he let himself surrender
completely to Blake.
By one thirty in the afternoon, the time came for Nathan to take his lunch. The
evening tellers scheduled for that day, Adam and Megan had already set up their
stations.
“I’ll be in the break room if you guys need approvals or customer service,”
Nathan told them as he stepped away from his teller window.
“Yeah, I’m sure we’re gonna need you with this big ass rush of people,” Ashley
mentioned, gesturing at the empty platform. “We might not make it without you.”
Although he wanted to be annoyed with her, Nathan could not help but to chuckle
a little. He to their small, quiet break room and grabbed his bag lunch from the
refrigerator. He sat on the break room’s tattered couch, eating his turkey
sandwich in cold silence. Nathan suddenly felt lonelier than he did in a long
time.
Since entering adolescence, Nathan always found it difficult to form and
maintain friendships and relationships for various reasons. His family consisted
only of his father and his brother, Caleb; they were two people who practiced
solitude as if were an art. Nathan spent most of his early years shut in the
house, not socializing with the kids in his neighborhood, because his father did
not want his sons to be consumed by the stupidity and mediocrity of other
children. At school, Nathan was a straight A student as his father insisted he
should be. At recess and lunch breaks, he would spend his time in the library
reading books, mostly on the occult, science fiction, and other paranormal
subjects.
Nathan’s peers considered him weird and stuck up, and for the most part, he did
nothing to disprove their opinions of him. While he did not necessarily think of
himself as better than his classmates, he knew there were things about
himself—about his family—that were significantly different from other people. He
also knew these things would make it almost impractical for him to have ‘normal’
relationships.
During his eighth year in middle school, Nathan discovered he could listen to
other’s thoughts. Initially, when he would hear these random thoughts in class,
he thought it was just people whispering to each other or directly at him, until
he saw that their lips were not moving, or if they were talking, the things they
said internally rarely coincided with what they were saying externally. It took
a long time for Nathan to be able to control his abilities. Nathan never shared
with this with Caleb or his father, even though he knew they possessed even more
powerful capabilities than him.
It would take another two years of harboring this secret, along with another
secret, his attraction to other boys, before Nathan would meet Robert Blake
Coleman, someone else who shared and struggled with the same secrets.
Upon meeting in their sophomore year of high school, Nathan felt an instant
affinity toward Blake. Although Nathan would have been classified as the odd,
quiet nerd and Blake the hot, unattainable jock, who despite his young age, had
maturity and intelligence, making him more different than his other classmates.
They formed a connection that lasted throughout the duration of high school.
At the time, Nathan believed that Blake would be his first boyfriend. Things did
not go as Nathan hoped, however. Blake ended up going to USC after graduation
after getting a football scholarship, while Nathan stayed in the Bay Area and
attended his freshman year of college at San Francisco State. Nathan and Blake
continued to talk, despite their distance, by phone and also by telepathy. Yet
Blake’s physical absence devastated Nathan. His first year of college had been
filled with bleak loneliness, until one day in his second semester, when he met
Russell Moore.
The door to the break room opened and Ashley stuck her head inside. “Nathan,
come out here.”
“What’s up?”
“Some dude is here to see you. He looks like a sexier version of Mr. Clean.”
Russell.
Nathan’s heart palpitated. He slowly rose from the couch, taking a last bite
from his sandwich, which he had barely eaten and followed Ashley out. With every
step that he took, Nathan felt a dull throb at the back of his head, much like
he had the night before. He wanted to turn around and run back to the break room
and stay there until Russell left. So many months had passed since their last
face to face encounter. Nathan thought he was ready to see Russell again, but
the way he struggled to breathe told him otherwise.
Just breathe and calm down. Nathan whispered to himself. Try to act normal.
Inhaling deeply, Nathan stepped out to the service platform. He saw Adam and
Megan watching him intently as he emerged. Nathan’s eyes drifted away from them
and Nathan saw Russell, standing on the other side of the teller windows,
watching him.
Nathan froze. He gawked back at Russell, not sure of what to do or say. He
figured Russell felt the exact same way. Russell still looked the exact same:
His hair was shaved nearly bald and he had a bit of stubble on his hard,
square-shaped jaw. He dressed casually in a black t-shirt that still managed to
show how muscular his arms and chest were without being too extreme, and a pair
of loose fitting jeans. Really, the only thing about him that appeared different
was the gloom in his dark, seductive eyes. Nathan got the impression that
Russell was trying his best to mask his misery, but could not succeed
Momentarily, Nathan forgot his coworkers were in the same room as him. The only
tangible thing in his surroundings was Russell.
“Hey, Nate,” Russell finally said.
Once Nathan remembered how to speak, he responded, “Hey.”
“Can I speak to you outside for a minute?” Russell asked. Nathan heard the
slight quiver in his voice. He knew Russell was just as nervous talking to him
privately as Nathan.
“Okay.”
Nathan headed out toward the lobby where Russell waited. He fought to maintain
relaxation as he and Russell headed out the bank. He felt his coworkers’ eyes
trailing him as they walked out of the door. Nathan knew they would start
gossiping as soon as he was out of earshot.
Outside, the air was slightly crisp and windy; a thick layer of gray clouds
blocked the sun. Nathan followed Russell into the parking lot.
“Where are we going?” Nathan asked.
Russell stopped. “Uh, I thought we could talk a little bit in my car…if that’s
cool with you.”
His car.
Nathan searched for it amongst the myriad of cars in the expansive, plaza
parking lot and eventually his eyes settled on Russell’s burnt orange Dodge
Charger. It looked just as polished and beautiful as Nathan remembered it. He
had a lot of memories of being in that car, some of them good, and some he
wished he could forget.
“Yeah, it’s cool,” Nathan replied.
Nathan did not know if it was the temperature or his nerves that made him
shiver.
Russell unlocked the car and they both got inside. Even though it was much
warmer inside of the car, Nathan felt just as cold, if not colder than before.
They sat there for a few minutes in silence staring out the windshield, watching
customers walk to and away from the shopping plaza. It was quiet enough for
Nathan to penetrate Russell’s mind and hear his thoughts, but Nathan chose
against it.
Throughout the course of their relationship, Nathan made significant efforts not
to use his ability to extort secrets from Russell. It was only during the last
month before Russell broke up with him, that Nathan used his ability as a method
of figuring out why Russell seemed so emotionally withdrawn toward him. In those
final weeks, he barely thought of Nathan at all. His thoughts had been mainly
consumed with Andrew Dominguez.
“So how have you been?” Russell asked.
Nathan inhaled, breathing in Russell’s familiar masculine body scent. That smell
triggered a series of memories in Nathan’s mind. He remembered the way they used
to kiss, right there in the car after their dates; the way Russell used to kiss
the back of Nathan’s neck and whisper in his ear when they were having sex, and
Nathan did not want to take a shower, because he wanted that scent to remain on
his skin as long as possible. He forced those recollections out of his brain and
shrugged.
“I’ve been cool, I guess…” Nathan did not have to ask the same question in
return, because he already knew the answer. He could feel the distress radiating
from Russell as if it were his own agony.
“That’s good,” Russell commented. He paused momentarily. “You look good.”
“…So do you.”
Russell chuckled, but there was no mirth behind his smile. “You don’t gotta say
that. I know I look like shit right now.”
Nathan wanted to tell Russell that despite his apparent agony, he still looked
gorgeous. But he knew they were not there to discuss each others’ appearances.
They were there to discuss a disappearance. From what Nathan derived from the
situation, he would have to be the one to initiate the conversation about
Andrew. Nathan knew Russell felt too awkward to even mention his name in front
of Nathan’s presence.
“So how long has he been gone?” Nathan asked.
Russell exhaled heavily. The car became engulfed with his sadness. “Wednesday
morning. Early morning. I got back home around two o’ clock that morning. He was
already gone. But I had talked to him, like fifteen minutes before.”
Nathan studied Russell’s handsome profile and did not respond right away. He
searched for the right questions, but he knew everything he said would come out
forced and unintelligent. “Have you tried calling him?”
“His cell phone is still at the apartment,” Russell replied. “His car is still
parked in the garage. I called his job and they said he didn’t show up or call
in either.”
Nathan’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “Maybe he went to go visit a friend…or
maybe his family.”
“Drew doesn’t got family in the Bay Area,” Russell stated. “And he doesn’t got
friends he would need to go visit at two in the morning. Besides, he was waiting
for me to come home…he always waits for me to come home.”
Jealousy wrapped itself around Nathan’s heart like barbed wire. He knew he
should not have felt that way, but he could not help it.
“Somebody took him,” Russell said starkly. “I know it.”
Russell explained to Nathan the events that occurred when he returned home from
work and saw the old, ratty red Toyota and its invisible driver driving away
from his complex. When he finished with his story, Russell turned and looked at
Nathan with those arresting dark brown eyes, which before used to fill Nathan
with outbreaks of happiness whenever Russell looked at him, now made Nathan feel
somber and icy inside.
“You’re saying you couldn’t see the driver?” Nathan asked.
“Yeah, but what I’m really saying, is that there wasn’t a driver at all. The car
was like, driving itself or some shit.”
Nathan almost wanted to say: “That doesn’t sound possible”, but he stopped
himself. He of all people knew that although a lot of weird, non-easily
explained circumstances were improbable, that did not necessarily mean they were
impossible.
And this is why Russell spoke to him about this situation instead of the police
or anyone else. Russell was aware of Nathan’s expansive knowledge of the
paranormal and other psychic phenomena. Nathan always wondered if his candor
toward Russell about his special talents had been a major component in the
demise of their relationship. Undoubtedly it had been. There was no way to
sustain an intimate connection with someone who was normal, and the other
abnormal.
“You don’t believe me do you?” Russell asked. Nathan heard an edge of anger in
his husky voice.
“It’s not that,” Nathan replied. “It’s just that you might be making connections
that might not be there.”
Russell put both of his hands on the steering wheel and squeezed, almost as if
were about to pry it off. “I think Drew was in that car I saw the other night. I
felt something hella strange about it. If I had just followed my instincts and
went after that car…” Russell stopped briefly. “I didn’t believe in strange shit
like this until I met you, Nate. I still don’t wanna believe it. but when I
walked into my apartment the other night, I felt this energy…it was something
like I never before. It was like an evil spirit or some shit…I don’t know…what I
do know, is that Drew disappearing, and then me seeing that car…that shit is
connected somehow. I don’t know how it is, but it is. And that’s why I need your
help, Nate.
“If I tell this shit to the police, they’ll think I’m on drugs or something.
Basically, you’re the only one—” Russell stopped speaking and closed his eyes.
Nathan knew he wanted to cry, but he did not want Nathan to see it. In all the
time they knew each other, Russell had rarely allowed Nathan to see that
vulnerable side of him. It angered Nathan that this other boy could draw this
much emotion out of him and not himself.
“You want me to help you find out what happened to him.” Nathan said softly.
Shrugging, Russell replied, “I really don’t know, Nate. Maybe if you could just
come by the apartment and…” He covered his face with his hands and kept them
there.
Nathan touched Russell’s broad shoulder. “It’s okay.” There was nothing else
better to say that he could think of. “I’ll help you…but I still think you
should talk to the police about it. You don’t have to tell them every single
thing you told me, but you should tell them something.”
Russell nodded his head and withdrew his hands away from his face. “Yeah, I
will.” When he glanced at Nathan, his eyes were misty, but tears refused to
fall. “I’m sorry to get you involved in all of this, Nate. I know I’m the last
person you probably wanna hear from, let alone help.”
“That’s not true,” Nathan responded. “It’s good to hear from you. I just wish
the circumstance was different.”
There was a slight moment of quiet, and Russell replied: Me too.
It took a few seconds for Nathan to realize that he Russell had said this in his
mind and not aloud.
“When do you want me to come by?” Nathan asked.
Russell sighed. “What time are you off work today?”
“Six.”
“I don’t gotta be at work tonight until about ten,” Russell said. “Maybe I can
swing back here after you get off and pick you up.”
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