Eventful
I walked into Mike's, and headed straight to the bar. “Where's Kevin?” I asked the bartender.
“Who?” He didn't seem to know Kevin by name.
“The kid Mike's mentoring, Kevin.”
“Oh, him.” He motioned over to the darkest corner of the room. “Over there. Not much of a talker, just wants to play on his phone.”
“What do you expect from a teenager?” I joked as I turned to join him. He was sitting with his back to the room and as the bartender had pointed out, he was totally absorbed in whatever was on his phone. Only when I plopped myself down in the chair facing him did he even notice I had arrived.
“Hi Joey, how's it going?” I suppose I should be happy that he made the effort to speak, but he barely looked up and continued to ignore me when I didn't reply instantly. I decided to wait and see how long it would take him to disentangle himself from the virtual world of his phone and engage with the real world of people that surrounded him.
When he finally looked up, a little confused by my silence, I chuckled and observed, “There he is.”
He rolled his eyes and set his phone down. “Okay, I get it.”
I smiled and asked, “Have you eaten yet?”
“No,” he answered, “Mike's making the food now. Should be out in a minute.”
“Okay.” I hesitated before adding, “I'd ask how your morning went, but I don't want to pry.”
“It was...” he smirked, looking for the right word, “...eventful.”
“I can see that,” I laughed, pointing to the front of his tee shirt. “I'd say at least three events, by the looks of things.”
He quickly looked down at the cum stains that had dried, leaving slightly darker, slightly stiffened patches in random splatter patterns down the front of his shirt. “I wasn't sure...I didn't think they showed that much.”
“They don't,” I grinned, “But I know what you've been up to, so I knew what to look for.” Just then Mike arrived with our burgers. I turned to him and said, “You could have at least told him to bring a spare shirt.”
Mike chuckled. “Badges of honor,” he insisted. “Proof of a job well done”
“I don't want to know,” I protested, raising one hand as a barrier. “But Ben will,” I added, giving Kevin a conspiratorial wink.
We chatted as we ate, and I asked him if he wanted to be part of whatever was coming. “I guess,” he hesitated, “But if Dad's helping...”.
“That's the spirit,” I suddenly realized that I had not checked in with either of them since the shocking revelation at the boarding house and it's almost disastrous fallout. “Speaking of your dad, how did things go after you dragged him home the other night?”
This time his hesitation showed a discomfort that went deep. “Alright, I guess. He's...I think you should ask him about it. I don't really know how to explain what happened, and I haven't quite figured it out yet, anyway.”
“Fair enough.” I reached over and put my hand on his arm for reassurance. “I really didn't mean to pry, I just care about the both of you, and...”
“Yeah, I get it,” he interrupted, pulling his arm free of my grasp. “I just don't want to talk about it. Okay?”
“Okay.” I gave him the space he needed, and and returned to more innocuous topics until we were finished eating.
As I was paying the bill, my phone rang. It was Cecil, Ben's case manager. “Hi Cecil, what's up?”
“Hi Joey, I don't want to alarm you, but something is going on with Ben that we don't understand. I think you need to get here as quick as you can.”
“What's going...Never mind...I'm heading out now.” The urgency of the morning was suddenly back.
Both Kevin and Mike could see the terror in my eyes. Had he had a relapse? Had something new suddenly developed? Mike immediately said, “Just go, you can pay me later.” And with that Kevin and I rushed out to my car and headed to the rehab center.
The day was bright and sunny, not a cloud in the sky. But as I rounded the final curve and the rehab center came into view, I was surprised to see the building appearing quite dull, as if in shadow, and covered from top to bottom with writhing black tendrils. I heard Kevin beside me gasp in astonishment. “Do you...What's going on? Do you see it?”
“I see something,” I answered, trying to remain calm for his benefit. “What do you see?”
“It's...dark, the rehab center. Like...like...” He was struggling to find words. “Like it's fading, the whole building. Like it's becoming less real.”
I raced directly to the loading zone at the front door, and we both jumped out, only to find the entrance was blocked. It wasn't so much a physical blockade, but a kind of gray haze that seemed to sense us coming and grew thicker and more dense as we approached.
“What the hell is that?” Kevin queried as we stopped to assess the situation.
“I have no idea,” I said, extending my hand to try to touch it. To my surprise, the mist seemed to melt at my touch so we rushed in, heading straight for Ben's room. Surprisingly, the facility seemed to be functioning as normal, and no one seemed to know about the shadow that had enveloped the building. That, however, changed when we entered Ben's room.
Ben was sprawled across his bed, with multiple small cuts on his arms and torso. While nothing looked serious, there was an alarming amount of blood on the bed, and he wasn't moving. Much to my surprise, Mr. Bouchard was in his wheelchair positioned next too the bed, and one of his hands was extended, and rested gently on Ben's shoulder. Ben's eyes were open, but it was as if he were somehow absent. The two of them constituted the still center in the chaos of activities being performed by the nurses and medical aids that surrounded them.
I froze as I realized that the shadow that had enveloped the building, and the tendrils that were covering the facade, all had there focus here. They filled the room, causing the very air to pulsate with a dark energy that seemed to mock me. As before I could see it all focusing on Mr. Bouchard, but this time something was different. The bubble of clarity that surrounded him seemed to be extending through his hand and enveloping Ben as well.
“Thank God you're here!” Cecil removed himself from the maelstrom, and rushed over to greet us. “Does he have any history of self harming?” he asked quickly. “I knew he had been struggling with depression, but I never would have put him down as being at risk.”
“No, never. Wait, you think he did this to himself?” I was horrified at the suggestion and didn't know whether to be concerned or angry.
“No,” Cecil answered calmly and sympathetically. “I know he did. I saw him doing it.”
“What?!” I was shocked. “No, that's not like him at all.”
“I would agree with you, but depression can take unexpected turns...”
“No!” I was adamant. “He wouldn't...Why is he just lying there? Is he unconscious?”
“We don't know,” Cecil admitted. “That's the other odd thing. None of his wounds are serious, and there's no reason for him to be unresponsive, but from the moment Mr. Bouchard touched him...”
“And why is he here? How did he even get here?”
“I brought him,” Cecil answered simply. “Maybe I shouldn't have, but it's a good thing I did.”
I could see that Ben was being well cared for, so I took a deep breath to calm myself and said. “Tell me everything.”
Cecil nodded, and we stepped into the hallway so the nurses could work in peace, and I could listen without distraction. “I came in to check on him this morning, as usual, but he didn't quite seem his normal playful self. He was more...I don't know...intense somehow. He didn't seem sullen or upset, just a bit more focused than usual, and perhaps a little impatient, but of course, in his situation that is quite understandable.”
“Yes, yes,” I was the impatient one now. “Then...?”
“Umm...Then he asked if I would bring Mr. Bouchard up to visit him. It was an unusual request, I didn't think they had met, but I knew you had been sitting with him, so I thought, maybe they had. Anyway, I agreed.” He paused for a moment, looking inward, “I'm still not quite sure why I said yes, but like I said, it's a good thing I did. When I got back up here, Ben was sitting on the edge of the bed covered with cuts. He had bent and broken the soda can by his bed and was using the jagged edge on his own flesh.”
“Oh my god...” Kevin whispered at my side. “Why would he...?”
“He didn't,” I interrupted. “look harder.”
“So I rushed in and disarmed him,” Cecil continued. “But he didn't seem to even notice me. Instead he looked straight at Mr. Bouchard and laughed.” He paused again, clearly shaken by the story he was relating.
I reached over and placed my hand on his arm to comfort him. “It's okay, I need the details if I'm going to be able to help.”
He continued. “What happened next was just as shocking. Mr. Bouchard raised his head and looked him straight in the eyes, and then, it was like lightning. His hand reached out and grabbed Ben's knee. The reaction was instant. Ben fell forward onto Mr. Bouchard as if he were out cold, but his eyes were wide open, just as they are now. I laid him on the bed and called for help. Then I called you.”
“What am I looking for?” Kevin was peering into the room, but obviously wasn't seeing what I could see.
“The guy in the wheelchair,” I pointed Mr. Bouchard out to Kevin. “Focus on him” Then returning to Cecil, I asked, “Has Mr. Bouchard been touching Ben the whole time? Even when you were moving him onto the bed?”
“I'm not sure.” Cecil seemed a bit confused and vague as he answered. “I suppose he might have been, I didn't really notice” He peeked back into the room and mused, “Oh, I see.” Then turning to me he added, “I really hadn't noticed that his hand was on Ben's shoulder. I'm usually more observant than...”
“Not to worry,” I reassured him. “I am not questioning your skills. I think you were not meant to notice.”
“Wait,” Kevin was squinting into the room with an intensity I had rarely seen him display. “It's like the shadow at the door, right?”
I smiled as I ushered him into the room. “And you didn't even need Sabina to help you see it.”
“Did I hear my name?” Sabina and Phil had just rounded the nurse's station, and were approaching rapidly. “Hey Joey, How's Ben?”
“Umm...Hold on a sec.” I moved to intercept them. “Ben just had an incident and they're cleaning him up.”
“What?” Phil stooped in his tracks and was instantly concerned. “What happened? Is he alright?”
Sabina, on the other hand simply kept moving forward. “I know,” she muttered to herself as she approached the door.
“Wait!” I tried to stop her, but she was determined.
Kevin was blocking the doorway and seemed frozen to the spot. “Don't worry,” Sabina whispered in his ear. “It's not after you”.
“What?” The spell was broken and he stepped forward, allowing her to pass.
“It's not even after Ben,” she said, stepping into the room with a confidence that belied her age.
The frenzy of activity had subsided, Ben's wounds were all dressed, and the bloodied sheets had been removed, but Ben still remained unresponsive. I noticed that he had been moved into a more normal position, but Mr. Bouchard's hand still remained in contact with him, now on his lower leg.
Phil let out an audible gasp when he entered behind me, and muttered, “Oh my God, Ben.”
Sabina didn't hesitate. She walked directly to Mr. Bouchard and asked, “Are you ready?”
He didn't speak. He didn't acknowledge her in any way. He simply removed his hand from Ben's leg.
Again, the response was immediate. Ben sat up, suddenly present, as if he had just woken from a sleep. He quickly surveyed his surroundings, then without warning, he grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me to him, kissing me deeply and passionately. To say I was surprised would be an understatement, but the hunger I felt for him quickly overcame every other feeling, and I leaned into the kiss, returning it with everything I had. When he released me, the look in his eyes was not that of a lover, but that of a victor. He pushed me away with an evil grin that reinforced this, then he lifted his hand to be between us. In it was the chain that I had absentmindedly taken from the closet of the cottage. He had distracted me in a way that only he could have and snatched it from my wrist without me even noticing.
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