Late, late night. Jake moving in and out of sleep. His back and arms sore from working out, his stomach acidic from the beer. Blinking awake at sounds from the living room. Rachel still awake. Reading her books? A dim line of light underneath his door. Rolling over and feeling his erection ache. Thinking, She is right out there. Right out there and all he has to do is go out and walk up to her and touch her like at the gym, massaging her leg and moving slowly up until he’d push his hand underneath her shorts. Stop. Not an idiot and knows what’s wrong and why. Knows his brother is in the room down the hall and that even thinking this is wrong. Knows that. Knows it and tells himself and repeats it in his sleep. Sitting up and stretching, everything hurting. Bed creaking. Strange shadows on the ceiling from the light outside. Night eyes adjusted and sharp. Remembering his night eyes as a kid, looking out in the dark basement and seeing, really seeing everything. Superhero powers. Night boy. See everything in the dark. Darkness his friend. Shrouded, protected. Swimming through blackness. Watching the ghosts move across the floor, ignoring him and his brother, but stopping when they saw him seeing. He saw them all. The goblins passing through his basement while their father kicked their mother across the floor, their ceiling, and everyone pretending they heard nothing and Eugene practicing kung-fu naked. His mother knew. Knew she was leaving, knew she was abandoning her kids and said nothing to him, didn’t even say good night if he remembered but wasn’t sure. Shouldn’t let it bother him. Take care of your brother, she said to Eugene. Yeah. Right. Take care of yourself and run off in the middle of the night. Stop. Stop. Doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Think of the dead. Bobby dead and buried under tons of garbage, sea gulls poking out his eyes and pulling on his tongue. Bobby going to haunt him. Should call Chih. Find out what to do, maybe save some of the stuff for him, find out what happened. Got to find a new place, new gig, miss the restaurant but don’t want to do that right now. Loaded. Am loaded with cash and rocks and don’t have to work, but can’t just sit around and do nothing, what about that Franklin place? Whoa. Stop. But that padlock’s a fucking joke. Got to check out the alarm system. Stop it, shithead. Eugene was a millionaire. Goddamn million dollars. What to do with a million dollars? No idea. Buy a house, buy a car. Then what? Get a nice TV. Satellite TV. Buy books. Catch up. Then what? What a sorry piece of crap can’t you think of anything? Help Eugene. Help Rachel. Rachel. What’s the point? The point is to survive. She knows too much. He blabbed like a fucking school kid. Just like in high school and got nailed for it. Mistake, mistake, mistake. Hell with it. Going to have to trust—
Creak, creak.
Outside the door. Rachel walking quietly towards the door. Stopping. Two feet in the line of light. Waiting, listening. Was he making noise? Stop. Quiet. Touching the door? Shit. Coming in? Shit. No. Stopping and listening. Listening for what? Listening for him. Come in. Come in right now. I’m waiting for you. Come in right now. Come in. Open the door. Walk in. Come to the bed. Sit down. Put your hand on me. Rest. Touch. Lean in.
Line of light brighter. Feet gone. Creak, creak. Sounds of settling in the sofa. TV on, then off. Light off, then on, then off. Shhhh. Quiet. So close.