The Skin of Things

When Donovan asked if he had to wear a tie, Adrienne Shorter said, “Of course not,” at the same time his stepfather, Evan said, “Yes.” And then the two of them both said: “Leave it to your discretion.”

“Personally,” his stepbrother Tyler, who had shown up an hour ago, said, “I think going tie less with one button open is the sporty choice.”

Donovan shrugged, and put the tie down on the table. There was a knock at the door just then, and Adrienne said, “I guess that’s him.”

“Or Melanie,” Evan said.

“If it was Melanie there would be no knocking. Donovan, get the door.”

Donovan sighed, looked down at himself wondering if he looked like a complete dork, and then went to open the door.

When Donovan opened the door, he stood there stupid, and finally he heard Adrienne shout from the kitchen, “Donovan let him in already.”

And then his mother came out of the kitchen, followed by Tyler, through the dining room, into the little foyer and said, “I’m Adrienne Shorter, pleased to meet you.”

The blond young man looked at Tyler, then he looked at Donovan, then Adrienne, and then Adrienne looked at him, and then looked at the shocked look on Donovan’s face, and then she looked to Ezekiel again, placid.

And then the young man, looking from Adrienne to Donovan, said, “I’m Ezekiel Anders.”

“Evan says you’re a really great aid. Where were you an undergrad?”

“At Mercy. It’s not a big college.”

“And that was...” Adrienne shrugged, “a short time ago? I mean, for me it was a few years between being an undergrad and going to graduate school.”

“Yes,” Ezekiel said. “It was a few years for me, I suppose—”

“How old are you?” Tyler cut in pleasantly. “I think Mom wants to know how old you are?”

Adrienne looked at Tyler, who shrugged and then turned his full, slightly predatory gaze on Ezekiel.

“I’m twenty-eight,” Ezekiel said, turning to Adrienne.

For Donovan Shorter the entire night was pens and needles awful. There was no chance to speak to Ezekiel. There was no reason that anyone else knew that he should speak to him, and since Evan had introduced him, Ezekiel had spoken in strained tones. Could it be that Ezekiel was no more strained than Donovan? That, in fact, he wasn’t angry? No, without even looking at him, Donovan knew this wasn’t a possibility. In this room, in this house at this party he felt like a stupid teenager who had done a very dumb thing, and Ezekiel was, indisputably, a grown man. How could he have thought that this wouldn’t matter?

When Ezekiel announced that it was time for him to leave, but could he please use the restroom, Donovan saw his chance. He waited a few moments; he did not see Adrienne’s eyes or Tyler’s eyes following him. He stood up and went upstairs and waited for the toilet to flush, the bathroom door to open. Ezekiel, in his blazer and fawn colored jacket opened the door, staring at him in something like fear and horror.

“What are you doing here?”

Donovan opened his mouth. It was dry. He was trying to force some words out of there.

They were not coming.

“Why are you here? What are you trying to do to me?”

“I...” Donovan stumbled. “I didn’t know...”

“You didn’t know who your parents were?” His voice came out strained. “You didn’t know I worked for you stepfather? You didn’t know you were a kid?”

“I didn’t know you worked for Dad,” Donovan’s voice was a frantic hiss.

“You’re in high school?”

“Yes.”

“Is there any possibility you’re eighteen?”

Anything’s possible! he thought of saying, but this was not the time to make a joke. Donovan simply said, “I just turned seventeen.”

“Just turned....” Ezekiel put a hand to his head. He looked like he was going to be sick. He put his hands out in front of him, and pushed Donovan away. He was going to the stairwell.

“Ezekiel.”

Ezekiel turned around, his voice thick.

“You stupid kid. You stupid, stupid kid. Do you have any idea...? Any...?” He was at a loss for words.

And then Donovan said, coming near him, whispering fiercely, “We can work something out. We can—”

Ezekiel pushed him away, his face screwed up in rage, or in sickness.

“Stay away from me,” he said simply. “There is no…. us. There’s nothing. I don’t know you. Stay away.”

And then he straightened his jacket and caught his breath, as if he was pulling himself back together into something new, into a nearly thirty year old man who had not been having sex with an adolescent high school student.

When Ezekiel answered the door and saw Donovan, he slammed it immediately. It was reflex, almost. Donovan reminded him of how narrowly he’d avoided doing something wrong. No, he had done something wrong. He’d done something illegal. What would have happened to him if Dr. Barclay or his wife knew, if knowledge of this affair had fallen into the wrong hands?

Donovan was not going anywhere. Ezekiel was sure of that. He waited only a second before going to answer the door again. Of course he was seventeen, how could he have not been seventeen? Was it just his wish to make Donovan something older that had blinded him?

“Can I please come in?”

“No!” That was too much.

“Well, then can you please come out?”

Ezekiel hit upon the compromise of nearly closing the door, keeping it cracked while Donovan stood on the other side of it.

“I IM-ed you, but you didn’t return the message. You’re never on. Did you do that invisible thing? The one where you always appear like you’re offline to someone?

“Ezekiel, open the door.”

Ezekiel opened the door.

“Go away, Donovan,” he said.

“But don’t you get it—?”

“Now you want to come back here so we can—” angrily, he remembered what had happened before. Ezekiel leaned down and hissed, “fuck—like we did before.”

“No!” Donovan cried, though the moment he’d said it, was the moment he thought how that was just what his body wanted. It flooded all through him.

“I want to make things right.”

“Well, you can’t, Donovan. You can’t make things right. Not after…” Donovan saw in Ezekiel’s face what he had done. He’d seen it before, but now he really saw it.

“You can’t make that right. You really, really lied to me. And you endangered me. And I don’t want to see you. Not ever again.”

Donovan bit his bottom lip and said, “Well, then… will you please, please, just IM me? We can just talk online. That’s not seeing. That’s just you hearing me, all right?”

Ezekiel’s face was stony. Ezekiel’s face was hurt. It hurt Donovan to look at him. He said, “We used to be friends—”

“No, we weren’t, Donovan.”

Donovan looked at him.

“Listen, I don’t expect you to know what it’s like to be almost thirty.”

“You’re not—”

“I am. I’m twenty-eight, and I’ve worked hard to… get an adult life for myself. To not care if I never found someone who loved me, if I didn’t connect to anyone. Or anything. And I was falling in love with you. I was in love with you, Donovan. I was carried away in this thing we had. But to you… it was just you getting over on some dumb ole man. It was some kid’s trick.” Ezekiel’s voice began to rise. “And it was dangerous to me. And I could have gone to jail.”

“Ezekiel.”

“Donovan,” Ezekiel said, after taking a breath, “As you can tell, I’m sort of doing everything I can to not lose my temper. I’m trying not to fly off the handle. So, please… leave. Okay? Please?”

Donovan nodded on the little stairwell to the apartment.

“All right, Ezekiel,” he said. “I’m sorry, Ezekiel.”

“The world is a beautiful place.”

It had taken Donovan a while to realize the sound he heard was the water lapping against the sand. He took off his shoes and walked over wet packed earth, carrying his sandals. This time he followed Cade to the concrete barrier slabs along the shore, and when they reached them, he held out his hand for the guitar. Cade, in shorts and sandals, climbed up the grey concrete slabs and then reached for the guitar, and Donovan was about to to say, “Why did you bring that damn thing?”

Overhead, in the darkness, geese honked, and Don climbed up, and then walked across a lip of semi uneven broken slabs, surprised by how his eyes adjusted to the light. He turned around, and behind them were the rows of painted houses and hotels guarding the marina. Right ouf of view there was a little path that led out into the water and Donovan said:

“Lacina?”

“What’s that?” Cade looked up from the rolling paper he was licking.

“It’s not a marina, it’s a lacina. Marina is the Latin word for sea.”

Cademon Richards finished rolling the joint, and handed it and a lighter to Donovan while he said, “And the Latin word for lake?”

“Lacus.”

“Oh… well… Takus this jointus and lightus it.”

While Don did, Cade began to play on the guitar.

Donovan took a very long, very deep draw, and held the smoke in his lungs. He was about to pass it, but realized Cade was playing. As he exhaled he said,

“I won’t smoke it all.”

“Smoke it all,” Cade. “There’s more. I got it from Andrew.”

“Very gracious.”

Suddenly Cade sang:

“We all ought to love each other.

We all ought to love each other

We should all love each other

All the time!”

His voice was strong, almost a surprise to Donovan, even though he’d heard him sing several times, and now he said, “Give me a hit off that.”

Donovan did, and a moment later, Cade passed it back, saying, “I gotta fuck around with it a bit, tone it down for the kids.”

Now, past two in the morning, Cade sat up straighter, and his voice became thinner and higher, the gentle voice for his old work, for picking up kids and leading them to snack time and for walking them to the restroom.

“Love each other.

Love each other

The world’ll be better

If we love each other all the time!”

Cade added,

“La la la la la la,

la la la la la

a few well placed la’s

and we’ll add some words here

I’ve smoked too much weed,

For my voice to hit the

octave it needs

Love each other!

All the time!

If you loved me Don

And you were the friend I like to

count on

You would pass that joint

Cause I think I’m coming down

to my point

We should love each other all

time time!”

Cade finished on a riff, and Don passed the rest of the joint, saying, “I’ve had enough. I feel a little fucked up, and I hope you go back to daycares and sing the song to the kids just the way you sang it to me.”

“I just needed to get the tune. And the refrain. The rest’ll come easy, but not tonight. Now take another puff, you son of a bitch.”