“I NEVER saw him again,” Blue told John. “Never even saw a letter. Not until I ran away myself.”
John was still holding him, again truly glad Vivian had talked him into the big car he’d never really needed, since they used her Tesla when they did anything social—if they did.
Now he was finally seeing that they hadn’t done much of that.
That he’d claimed—to himself—that he wanted a normal life with a wife and a house and a white picket fence (which he didn’t have; it was a privacy fence, but only in the back) and social dinners with other couples. But he hadn’t wanted that at all, had he?
If he’d given Vivian that, maybe she would still be with him.
What he’d been suspecting was true. She wasn’t the villain.
He was.
Of course, if he had given his wife the life she wanted, if he’d been the husband she wanted, he would never have met Blue. Except for that day he almost ran over him with his car.
And so life went the way it went. Right now that meant holding this young man he had inexplicably fallen completely and totally and madly in love with. A lifetime avoiding men… and now hopefully a lifetime loving one. No matter what that involved.
No matter what.
“When did you run away, baby?” Not that I would have blamed you for running away the next day from what you’ve said so far. He’d had no idea that things had been so bad for Blue. But it explained a lot.
“My junior year,” Blue said, pulling back a bit. “Grandpa sent me to the attic to get some storm windows, and I found a different box entirely. It was letters. From Indigo. Like something right out of The Color Purple. He had written me on and off for two years. Told me everything that happened. He was alive. At least he was for two years. But then he stopped writing. The last letter….”
I don’t know why you won’t write back, but I can tell you’re not going to. I’m giving up, Blue. If you ever decide to look for me, well, I don’t know. Me and Jimmy are going to London. I don’t know how you can find me. But things work out. And if you ever decide to get away from those two fucks, remember what I told you. You don’t have to stand on street corners. And men will do all kinds of favors for a night with you. Food and all kinds of stuff.
Love you,
Indigo
“That was it.”
Oh God, thought John.
“Finally I had had it. Indigo had been writing me for two years, and they kept it secret! I… I lost my mind, John! I went to them, and I was screaming, and—”
And?
“—I pulled a knife on them!”
GRANDMA SCREAMED, and Grandpa went as pale as milk.
Oh, the way they were looking at him.
They were scared! They were fucking scared, as Indigo would say.
Blue looked down at the knife in his hand—it was fucking huge—and that made him laugh because… him? Holding a knife on someone! Why, it was like something from Alice in Wonderland or some British sitcom like Absolutely Fabulous.
He threw the knife then, far to his right—practically over his shoulder—and nowhere near either of the old fucks, and then Grandpa pissed himself.
He actually peed his pants.
Blue could hear it.
They all three did.
The front of Grandpa’s khaki pants went dark, and then a long wet path went down his leg and puddled on the floor.
Blue shook his head and wondered why he’d ever been afraid of this pathetic old man. He turned and left the room, and he crammed some shirts and underwear and two pairs of jeans in his backpack and left.
He never looked back.
“AND SOMETIMES I’ve had sex with guys because… when I don’t have any food or money or anything!”
Tears were pouring down Blue’s face, and the apprehension in his glassy eyes as he peered at John made John’s heart hurt.
Oh, my sweet Blue…. God, I wish I could have been there for you. The world can be a cold place. And…. That look….
“Do I…. Do I disgust you?”
What? Disgust? “No, Blue! I don’t care,” John said.
“Wh-what?”
“I mean, I care. I do. I care about you. I care that you had to do things you didn’t want to do.” John cupped Blue’s cheek in his hand and said, “It kills me that you had to do those things. But it doesn’t matter.”
“But it does matter,” Blue said.
John frowned. Had he messed up again?
“It matters that all kinds of shit like that happens in the world,” Blue went on.
John nodded. “Yes, it does. Of course it does.”
“Then why did you say…?”
John wiped one of Blue’s many tears away. “What I mean is that I love you. I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know what it was about you that let it happen. I resisted men for thirty years. I didn’t even jerk off with friends.” John turned away and looked out the car window. He was fighting tears and didn’t want Blue to see. But then it occurred to him that he didn’t have to hide anything from Blue. Shouldn’t hide anything. Not from the man he loved. John looked back and smiled.
“You know that movie?” he asked.
“Movie?” Blue said.
“The one with the famous line? ‘You had me at hello’?”
Somehow, through some miracle, Blue smiled back. “Jerry Maguire.”
John ran his fingers through Blue’s hair. “Except you had me at ‘Sorry, dude!’”
Blue’s eyes went wide, and he laughed. “What?”
John leaned in close. “That was what you said to me when I almost hit you with my car.”
Blue’s eyebrows shot up. “I did?”
John nodded and rested his forehead against Blue’s. “And something about being late for a very important date and then….”
“I kissed you.”
John nodded. “And I’ve never been the same.”
“Really?” Blue asked.
“Really,” John replied and nodded again—once. Twice. “And I thought about you for months, when I would let myself.”
“Really?” Blue repeated.
“Really.” He closed his eyes and opened them and said, “And then I decided to get a dog. Because my wife took our dog when she left, and I sure missed him.”
Blue laughed at that. Only a little laugh. But he laughed. It lifted John’s heart.
“So I went to an animal shelter and—”
“And?” Blue asked.
“—I saw an angel and forgot all about getting a dog.”
“I’m not an angel.”
“You’re my angel,” John replied and kissed him lightly, ever so lightly, on the mouth.
Blue’s expression darkened, and he shook his head as if in denial. “I went in the woods with a man,” he blurted. “I wanted him to force me to have sex.”
John kissed him again. It didn’t matter.
“I’d never been forced.”
And John kissed him again. Go ahead. Tell me if you need to. But it doesn’t matter.
“But I wanted to be. I wanted to be forced. Just once.”
Blue closed his eyes, but he didn’t stop. “It was supposed to be a game. Role-playing. Pretend.” He opened them again, looked away. “Like having sex somewhere you could get caught, you know?
“Or a cop fantasy. Blow me so I don’t give you a ticket.”
John nodded. He was new to this gay thing, but not so new he couldn’t understand the desire for new experiences, for exploring everything it might mean. Not that he could imagine ever wanting those particular experiences himself. Or, well, maybe he could. But now was not the time for speculation. Now was the time to be here for Blue. He kissed Blue again. “He didn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop. It was supposed to be a game, and when I realized I didn’t like it, that I wanted it to stop, he wouldn’t.” They wouldn’t.
That caused a pang in John’s chest. He couldn’t deny it. But not a pang of horror or disgust. Except for the horror and disgust that someone could do that to another human being. Especially one like Blue. John looked him in the eyes, trying to show Blue his love. Because he wasn’t sure just what to say. “I’m sorry” sounded so hollow.
“It was horrible,” Blue said, and tears flowed again. “And that’s why I’m here today. Because he’s HIV positive. And he might have infected me. And it’s my fault.”
And then for the longest time neither of them said anything.
“And now I don’t think I can ever go back to camp,” Blue said. He looked so sad, like someone who had lost a beloved friend. “Camp Sanctuary was one of the only places on earth that I felt safe. But now…?”
John wasn’t sure what to say, but he knew what not to say. He didn’t say “What’s past is past.” He didn’t say “Shh. There, there.” He didn’t say “I can imagine.”
In the end all he said was, “I love you. And if I have anything to say about it, nothing like that will ever happen to you again.”
This time Blue kissed him.
Then John said one more thing, and he believed it with all his heart. “It wasn’t your fault. And God help that man if I ever meet him.”
Blue curled into John’s arms then. Not speaking, no longer crying, simply accepting the love and comfort John wanted so much to give him.
After that they went into the clinic.