The People in Rossford

The Marvel of My Life

When Todd got to Germany everyone looked like Fenn.

That was, of course, an exaggeration. But he had assumed that everyone in Germany had blond hair. Blue eyes. Was it possible there could be this many Black people, that out of the corner of his eye, they could all remind him of Fenn?

One night, in a bar, he caught the eye of some dark boy in glasses who was, in turn, catching his eye. He didn’t really look like Fenn at all. He was, honestly, younger and thinner and prettier and yet, not as beautiful. If that made any sense. Not alive like Fenn.

“What canna I do for you, officer?” the boy said in an accent Todd couldn’t place.

“I think that since you are young and virile, and I am, still somewhat young and virile, until you come back we shouldn’t even talk about fidelity. I mean, fidelity in the bedroom.”

“Hum?”

Whaddo you mean, hum?” Fenn said. “I mean, we’re both used to sleeping with who we want to. If you’re off in Germany then why should I ask you not to sleep with, or stand with or, whatever with anyone else? And why should I pretend to be a monk for a year? Or for two. No, do what you like, and I’ll do what I like, and we just won’t tell each other.”

Fenn lay on his back but Todd said, “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“I can be faithful. I can wait.”

“Look,” Fenn said. “I don’t equate celibacy with faithfulness or sex with betrayal. Tom betrayed me when he sneaked around and lied, not when he had sex.”

“Well…” Todd folded his hands behind his back. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure,” Fenn told him, running a hand over his side. “But when you get back, you’re mine.”

* * *

The sounds of desire and creaking wood came from beyond a door

“Oh, God—That’s right! That’s right!”

“That’s it…” the foreign accent, high pitched in excitement, “That’s eet!”

A few minutes after the meeting in the bar,past the door, and in a dark room, the boy was bent on all fours, and Todd, his fatigues down around his ankles, was plowing him with all his might...

TODD MERADAN HAD LEFT for Germany three weeks previous. One letter, vague enough, had come from him. To his credit, Todd had not said anything about coming to visit. He had said, “I miss you.” And even though it was written down, Fenn heard it in a Todd way, not overly emotional, merely a statement of fact.

Tom came over and said: “Remember when this was going to be our house?”

“Do you think about it?”

“I think about it a lot.”

“How would I know?” said Fenn. “I never see you.”

“How could you see me? You never talk to me.”

Fenn looked at him.

“There’s a reason I should?”

“No,” Tom admitted. “Still. It’s been two years.”

Fenn nodded. “And you think pain had a time limit.”

“I think,” Tom said, “your pain had a very short time limit.”

Fenn had given out all his sharp stares for the day, so he simply turned around and headed toward the kitchen, which was the closest thing he could think of to an invitation for Tom to leave.

“I’m just saying,” Tom followed him anyway, “for someone who was so hurt over what I did, you got over your betrayal pretty damned quick.”

Fenn started to laugh. At first he was trying to make himself laugh, trying to pretend he was amused. But soon it turned into a real laugh, and Tom stood crooked mouth, looking at Fenn.

“You…” Fenn began, “are angry because… I wasn’t hurt enough by your sleeping with Brian?”

“You were supposed to want to make it work!” Tom declared. “We were supposed to make it work. Get over it. Come through it. We were supposed to survive. You were supposed… to care.”

As Fenn’s laughter died, and he sat down in the kitchen looking at his ex, Tom concluded: “And we didn’t. And you don’t.”

It was early summer then. The house fusty and in need of a fan or a wall air conditioner. The stuffy heat made the silence thicker.

“Tom,” Fenn said, “you’re right.”

Tom blinked, surprised by Fenn’s agreement.

“I… haven’t wanted to even look at you. I put you away,” Fenn said. “I dealt with pain by not dealing with it.”

“I miss you,” Tom said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “I’ve missed you for two years.”

“I miss you too,” Fenn said, faintly.

Then he said: “Maybe we can be something new to each other. Not the old thing. But the new.”

That was the summer they decided to open the theatre. They played with the idea then, and the letter came from Todd once a week and once a week he wrote back.

“I’ve always wanted a theatre,” Tom said. “But we’re going to need an acting troupe.”

“I can act.”

“I know you can. I remember when you were in New York. You should have stayed.”

“New York isn’t Rossford,” Fenn said.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

Fenn shook his head and smiled.

“Sometimes it is.”

Fenn had decided, one Friday, after he finished eating that what the kitchen needed was a mattress,that the old mattress in the shed could be brought out. It made sense that the first thing to do after eating a big meal was to collapse on a mattress and sleep. And so it remained. And so Tom and he sat on it.

Tom looked at him.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I… Tom, I don’t want us to be a couple anymore.”

“I didn’t say ‘Can we be a couple?’ I said, ‘Can I kiss you?’”

When Fenn said nothing Tom took his hand. “I’m not the last person you slept with. What’s wrong with us sleeping together?”

“We…”

Tom kissed him.

“Just friends,” Tom said, kissing him again. “Who have nothing to hide.”

Tom pressed his mouth to Fenn’s, and Fenn’s arms fell. He lowered himself under Tom and heard the birds and the crickets outside.

“Just friends,” Tom murmured, kissing him, unbuckling his belt, “who have nothing to hide.”

Tom came up from the bed.He and Fenn sat on the edge of it, wrapped in one comforter. That was when Fenn told him about Todd.

“But Todd’s not here,” Tom said, kissing Fenn quickly. “And he won’t be. Not for a while.”

They kissed for a long while, clinging to each others shoulders. and Tom said, “It feels so good not to hold back from each other. Not to have the old…”

“Strife?”

“Strife is a good word.

“Look,” Tom said, folding his legs under himself. “I love you, but I can let you go. I’m not going to try to steal you from Todd. But he’s gone and I’m here, so I’m going to keep sleeping with you. If you don’t mind.”

“If I don’t mind,” Fenn grinned. He lay on his back and stretched out his hand, touching Tom’s back, going all the way to the small.

“Ten years, drunk on your body, Tommy, and then cutting it off cold turkey. Pretending I didn’t still want you, didn’t miss us in bed… Didn’t miss us period. No… No, I don’t mind. But I don’t want to be your husband again.”

Dark hair in his face, Tom turned around and with a boyish look Fenn hadn’t seen in a long time. “Then we can be like French people?”

“What?’

“And be lovers.”

“We can be friends,” Fenn said, “who used to be a couple, and love each other. And therefore sleep together.”

Tom thought about this, raised an eyebrow, and then collapsing on the mattress beside Fenn said, “Good enough.”

“WE NEED TO help Danasia,” Noah declared.

When Fenn and Lee looked at him, he said, “Actually, you have to help Danasia.”

“Noah…” Fenn began.

“What the hell are you talking about?”Lee concluded.

In the middle of the table was a large menorah, and Fenn was in the middle of polishing it with Brass-o and an old washcloth.

“Well, it’s like this: Danny’s in a bit of trouble.”

“We gathered that,” Fenn said.

“But she was always in trouble,” Lee said. “And she didn’t want to talk about it. So…” he shrugged. “I respected it.”

“Well, you can’t respect it,” Noah said, firmly.

Both Fenn and Lee raised their eyebrows.

“Look,” Lee said. “I’m glad the two of you have taken a shine to each other. God knows the two of you are both strange enough. But… I can’t help you if you don’t tell me how much trouble my child is in.”

“It’s like… a hundred fifty thousand dollars worth of trouble.”

Fenn and Lee, pulling their jaws off of the floor, looked at each other slowly. And then they turned to Noah.

“Mr, Riley,” Lee said, taking out his cigarette roller and opening his can of tobacco. “You need to start talking. Right now.”

“Goddamn!” Fenn said when Noah was finished.

Lee, shaking his head, repeated: “Goddamn is right.”

“A hundred fifty-thousand… a hundred…”

“And I know,” Noah said, “that that’s a lot. I know that you might be through all of that money by now. But I told Danny you might be able to help. I mean… If there is any of that money left...”

At the look on their faces, Noah said: “What? Is it all gone? The money’s all gone?”

Their faces were still blank and Noah said, “Guys…?”

Lee looked to Fenn and Fenn, with lowered eyebrows and fingers white with Brass-o muttered: “Tell him.” And then he looked up at Noah and said: “And you tell no one else.”

“Tell no one else what?”

“Brian got into Joe Callan’s bank account,” Lee reported.

“And?” Noah looked hopeful.

“There is enough to cover Danny’s troubles several times over,” Fenn said. “But goddamn, that’s a lot of trouble.”

Lee nodded, seriously.

“Still, she’s your daughter.”

“Well, it’ll come out of Tom’s and my share.”

“It sure in the fuck will,” Fenn muttered.

Noah looked at them curiously.

“Stop that,” Fenn said, slightly irritatated. “You look like the RCA dog.”

“How much…. Money do you have?” Noah said.

Lee looked nervous about answering, but Fenn said, “He’s family now. We gotta tell him. Maybe we should have told you before, but we forgot.”

“That is true,” Lee said. “Brian opened the account up, and at the time… you weren’t really around.”

“Brian knows then?”

“Oh, yeah.’

“Brian knows.”

“Oh, stop,” Fenn said. “He was the first to know.”

“Well….” Noah waited, “are you all going to tell me?”

“At least three million dollars.”

“What?”

“I said,” Fenn said slowly, “AT LEAST… THREE…. MILLION…. DOLLARS.”

“Goddamn,” Noah swore.

“Language, language,” Lee said, lowering his eyes and inhaling his cigarette.

“Damn,” Noah corrected himself. “That really will cover Danny.”