brown hair clung to his forehead, his face more gaunt than usual. His
high cheekbones looked more skeletal than attractive, like death had
already gotten a grip on him and wasn’t letting go.
Jace found the shower water handle and turned it. Even the cold
water that first came out felt warm to him. When it started to steam, his
skin stung, but he forced himself to stand beneath the flow until feeling
and color returned to his skin. When he shut off the water, he heard a
voice shout from the other room.
“Towels are in the drawer!”
Jace pulled at a handle in the wall, a drawer sliding open with bone-
dry towels inside. He would have found the entire arrangement clever if
the situation wasn’t so embarrassing. Or horrible. Jace rubbed at the fog
on the mirror and stared at himself. He looked human again, but his blue
eyes had a haunted look, and he knew why. One of his schoolmates had
tried killing herself during their freshman year and had been sent to a
psychiatric hospital afterwards. Jace struggled to remember if he’d ever
seen her again.
No, he might not have ended his life, but he sure had screwed it up.
And for what? Despite the revelation that he wasn’t ready to check out
just yet, he still faced the same dreary future. Now it was likely to get a
whole lot uglier. Sighing, Jace wrapped the towel around his waist and
left the bathroom.
Bernard was sitting at the small table where Jace’s wet clothes had
been, except now they were bundled up in a trash bag. On top of this sat
his wallet. And the baggied suicide note. The trusty Ziplock seal was no
longer green. Had Bernard read his letter? Even worse, Jace’s driver’s
license sat to one side.
“Feel better, Jason?” Bernard said, standing and grabbing a flannel
blanket off the couch.
“Most people call me Jace,” he replied, “and I actually like that.”
The old man grunted, thrusting the blanket at him. “Here. Wrap
yourself in this or you’ll catch a chill. This RV is colder than a well
digger’s ass.”
Jace took the blanket gratefully, glancing around the interior. “Do
you live here?”
“Only on the weekends.” Bernard sat back down with a grimace. The
expression didn’t leave even when he was settled. “What the hell were
you playing at, son?”
Jace nodded toward his belongings, in particular the suicide note.
“You already know why.”
“Like hell I do! It’s the letter I don’t understand. What sort of stupid
reason is that for wanting to kill yourself?”
Jace’s chin jutted out. “I’m gay. That’s not reason enough?”
“No,” Bernard spat, “it isn’t. And I wasn’t referring to that. You’re
happy now but worry you won’t be one day? Jesus, man! At least wait
until you’re miserable before you go leaping off a bridge. And next time
choose one that’s taller!”
Jace laughed. He couldn’t help it. The entire evening had been
insane. Part of him wondered if he had succeeded in killing himself and
ended up in this strange purgatory.
“You’ve lost your mind,” Bernard said, waving a hand dismissively.
“I think maybe I have,” Jace admitted.
“Well, at least I know you won’t be trying that again soon. The look
on your face as you were crying for help convinced me of that.” Bernard
glared at him. “Of course you damn near killed me instead. I almost had
a heart attack!”
“Sorry,” Jace said. “And thank you.”
Bernard sniffed and then nodded. “Have a seat. I’d offer you a drink
if you were older.”
Jace sat, readjusting the blanket around his shoulders. Unable to
make eye contact, he stared at his belongings instead. “Are you going to
tell my parents?”
Bernard was quiet a moment. “I don’t know. Seems to me you have a
lot of problems you need to talk over with them.”
“I will.” Jace raised his head. “But I’ll do that on my own.”
Bernard sized him up. “You better. Maybe they can talk some sense
into you. There’s a lot worse that can happen to a man than him ending
up alone.”
“I know,” Jace said sheepishly.
“You don’t,” Bernard said, “and that’s not your fault either. But
you’ll learn. Eventually.”
“I’m not completely clueless,” Jace said. “I’ve read plenty of history
books. Biographies too. I know what can happen to a person.”
“Reading about something and living through it are two different
things.” Bernard peered at him. “No, I can guess the worst problem you
face.”
“Oh really?”
“Yup. Free time. You know that saying about how idle hands are the
devil’s tools?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I don’t believe in any devil, but there’s plenty of truth to that
saying. No man is happy for long when he doesn’t have work to occupy
his time and mind. Without a purpose, a man doesn’t have any sense of
worth. You seem to think your life is worthless or you wouldn’t have
tried throwing it away.”
“I go to school,” Jace said. “That keeps me busy.”
Bernard crossed his arms over his chest. “If that were enough, I
wouldn’t have had to drag your ass out of the river tonight. You able to
work nights?”
“If I wanted to.”
“You want a job?”
“Doing what?” Jace asked. “Fishing?”
Bernard scoffed. “This is my hobby, not my livelihood.”
The pieces came together. “Wait, you’re the Bernie! As in Bernie’s
Stop and Shop.” Jace made him sound like some kind of celebrity, but in
a small town like this one, owning the local gas station was halfway
there.
“I could use another man on the night shift. Not the whole thing. Not
at your age, but you’d come in after dinner and be done before bedtime.”
Jace blinked and wondered if the night could get any weirder.
“Why?”
“I told you why. If you expect me not to tell your parents, then I
should at least keep my eye on you. Besides—” Bernard stopped and
shook his head, then scowled hard at the soaked crossword puzzle.
“Okay,” Jace said, if only to bring him out of the sudden mood
change. “If you really think it’ll help, I’ll give it a shot. Uh, I’ll get paid,
right?”
Bernard looked up at him incredulously and cracked a grin. “Well, I
did save your life. Surely that’s worth a week’s pay. You’ll have to wear
that blanket home too, since I don’t have a dryer here. That’s not free
either.”
“You can have the blanket back later,” Jace said, “and as you know,
I already consider my life worthless. The way I see it, that makes us
even.”
Bernard barked laughter. “Very well. Work hard, and I’ll see you get
paid. Deal?”
Jace nodded. What did he have to lose?
“Deal.”
* * * * *
Jace pulled into his neighborhood, thankful for once that it was
sleepy, dark, and quiet. That could describe all of Warrensburg,
Missouri. A visiting cousin had once expressed excitement that
Warrensburg was a college town, throwing out terms like “liberal
paradise” and “cultural oasis.” That enthusiasm soon diminished when
she actually visited. Jace figured that college life here wasn’t so different
than grade school had been or high school was. Ancient brick buildings,
worn-out wooden desks, and teachers old enough to remember when the
schools and equipment had been new. Everything in Warrensburg felt
old and tired to Jace. Only the nights had potential, when it was too dark
to see the truth and still possible to imagine anything.
Right now, Jace was fervently imagining himself getting caught
sneaking back inside. His clothes were still soaked and tied up in the
trash bag, looking like a sad black pumpkin on his passenger seat. All he
had on was the blanket Bernard had given him, burnt orange in color.
Another downside to being tall was that the fabric didn’t cover nearly as
much of him as he’d like. Draped in the blanket, Jace had felt like a Hare
Krishna when walking back to his car, carefully driving the speed limit
the whole way home so he wouldn’t have to explain himself to a bored
police officer.
“Evenin’ officer! Just driving around naked, except for this
oversized washcloth. I do this every Saturday night. Don’t you?”
Now he turned off the headlights before pulling into the driveway of
his family’s home. After killing the engine, he checked the windows one
by one. The house was mostly dark, except for a dim light in the kitchen
his mother always left on. Jace considered entering through the front
door and dashing to his room, but if his mom or dad came downstairs for
a midnight snack…
No, Michelle’s room was his best bet. Jace eyed the trash bag of
soaked clothes but decided to leave it behind. He needed both his hands
on the blanket unless he wanted to add ‘unintentional flasher’ to the
night’s list of transgressions. Closing the car door as quietly as possible,
he hurried across the lawn to the side of the house.
Jace’s bedroom was on the top floor, down the hall from his parents.
His sister Michelle had a lot more privacy. Down one set of stairs to the
kitchen and living room, and down another flight to the family room,
Michelle’s bedroom was tucked away in a corner of the house. Most of it
was underground, except for two high-set windows. Jace knew for a fact
these windows acted as an entrance and an exit—sometimes for
Michelle, sometimes for her boyfriends.
Jace squatted, adjusted the blanket to make sure his junk wasn’t
showing, and tapped on the window. The light inside the bedroom turned
off before the window slid open.
“Brett!” Michelle said, grinning while peering into the dark. “You’re
so bad!”
“It’s me, stupid!” Jace hissed.
Michelle’s smile faltered. “Ew!”
“Ew, indeed. Now let me in.”
“What are you doing out there?” Michelle squinted. “And what are
you wearing?”
“I’ll explain later. Just get out of my way. And turn around.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I’m half-naked.”
“Ugh!” Michelle retreated into the dark.
When Jace hopped into the room, she had her back to the window,
hands over her eyes. He shook his head ruefully, turning on the bedside
lamp. “I said half-naked. Not naked.”
Michelle spun around, peering between her fingers before she
dropped her hands and laughed. She kept laughing while Jace glared at
her. Michelle was a year younger than he was, and with her tall build and
blondish-brown hair, many people mistook them for fraternal twins.
They often told people they were. Michelle had even talked Jace into
growing out his hair. It wasn’t as long as hers, not yet reaching his
shoulders. Michelle’s tumbled halfway down her back, but him having
longer hair did help solidify the illusion.
Not only did they look alike, but they were kindred spirits as well.
They might not share every hobby and interest, but they got along like
best friends. Other siblings they knew were in constant competition with
each other or always squabbling. Not them. He and Michelle were as
close as could be.
“What’s her name?” Michelle asked, “and what did you do to end up
like this? Did her boyfriend chase you off? Oh god, it’s not a married
woman, is it?”
Jace swallowed. Okay, so maybe their closeness didn’t extend to
every area of their lives. “Why would Brett be at your window?” he
asked, changing subjects. “I thought you two broke up.”
“We did.” Michelle studied him. “God, you’re so na.ve. And here I
thought you finally had a girlfriend.” She grinned again. “Do you?”
“No. I was out for a hike and was crossing a river. There was this
log, like a fallen tree, and I slipped and fell into the water.”
Michelle’s eyebrows rose. “And then you hit your head and became
a shitty liar. What really happened? Where’d you get that blanket?”
Jace sighed. “Can you just get me some clothes from upstairs?
Please?”
“And then you’ll tell me the truth?” Michelle looked disappointed.
He didn’t blame her. Normally they were honest with each other. He
supposed that was all he could be now. “I don’t want to tell you.” Jace
swallowed. “It’s embarrassing. And stupid.”
Now Michelle looked concerned. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.” Jace pulled the blanket tighter around himself. “I’ll
tell you,” he said. “Just not now. I need time.”
“For what?”
“To figure out how to say it.”
Michelle studied him, looking for any hint of the truth. “I’ll be right
back,” she said finally, hurrying from the room.
Jace sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. She loved him. His
parents did too. He didn’t doubt it in the slightest. That was the problem.
The worst thing about being loved is how vulnerable it makes you. If
coming out made that love falter… Jace couldn’t bear the thought. For a
fleeting moment, he wished he had succeeded, had shrugged off
Bernard’s grip and allowed himself to sink into the Blackwater River.
“Fashion time,” Michelle said, causing him to jump. She had an old
pair of jeans and a T-shirt draped over one arm. “I was tempted to bring
that horrible suit Mom bought you for their anniversary.”
Jace grimaced. “My skin itches just thinking about it.”
“Which you would deserve,” Michelle said with menace. “Lying to
your own sister!”
“I know,” Jace said, taking the clothes. “I suck. Sorry.”
Michelle gave a half-hearted shrug. “I didn’t bring any underwear.
Digging through that drawer would have been gross.”
“It’s all right,” Jace said, keeping his eyes on the clothes. “I just want
to put these on and go up to bed.” He glanced over at her to make sure
she understood. There wouldn’t be any big discussions tonight.
Michelle’s room had its own bathroom, which he ducked into to get
changed. Jace couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror as he dressed,
the bitter taste of guilt in his mouth. Once he was done, he said a quick
goodnight to his sister and headed upstairs. He was almost to his room
when his mother surprised him in the hall.
“Jace! I didn’t hear you come in!”
Dressed in a nightgown, clutching the front closed with one hand,
she looked happy to see him. Was it a mother’s instinct that kept her up?
Had she felt her son nearly take his own life?
“Just got in,” he mumbled.
With her free hand, his mother toyed with the braid of gray hair that
