The
Donor
Chapter 20
"It's a shame you couldn't spend longer
with us," Lynn said returning Terry to the airport after his whirlwind
trip to his family. "You look like you could have used the rest."
"I could, but this is how much time I have
off," Terry said.
"Dad said you could hardly keep up with
him when you went running yesterday." There was that searching look.
"I'm criminally overworked. I took care
of everybody else's stuff during the fall, and now I'm paying for it."
"That's all? You're okay otherwise?"
"I'm okay otherwise. Look."
"What is it?" Lynn frowned at the flimsy
paper.
"It's a negative lab result. It means if
I get a cough, it's just a cold."
Lynn grinned widely, then pretended to be nonchalant.
"That's very nice," she said. "But I always knew you were safe."
"I wish I hadn't let you go," Jack
fussed. "You look worse than when you left."
"You really know how to make a guy feel
pretty," Terry said. "Anyway, I've got a day to sleep before I have
to go back to the salt mines." He was looking forward to his clean white
bed in his little white house.
But Jack turned the wrong direction and climbed
the wrong hill. Terry hesitated a moment in the car. He could probably ask Jack
to take him home, but the effort, and the effort was too much and he didn't
want to argue today. He followed Jack into the house.
His first impression was that Jack must have
been painting because the furniture was all moved around. Then he realized there
was also more furniture -- his furniture. It wasn't all his furniture. The couch
and bed weren't there, but his bookshelf and his dresser, and some boxes which
probably had his clothes.
Terry stared, not actually angry, though it wasn't
what he wanted. He wasn't raising his voice and demanding to be moved back home.
But he must make some reaction. It wasn't what he wanted.
Jack was studying him, smiling uncertainly. He
sat down and began to untie his shoes. "I thought you should just stay
here for a while," Jack offered. "Until you've recovered."
"Recovered from which?"
Jack's smile fell. "Look, I know it was
pretty pushy but I knew you wouldn't let me help otherwise. I can move you back
next weekend if you want me to."
Terry paused with a shoe in his hand. "Thank
you. That would be good."
But on the weekend Terry slept all day again
and Jack left his things where they were. Even with New Year's day off, the
week had been long. Marcia had given him a dangerous look when he said he was
still feeling ill.
Mary called towards the end of January. Terry
was closer to the phone, but he let Jack pick it up because he didn't expect
any calls. He could tell it was for him, though, from Jack's change in expression
-- he looked like he wanted to slam the receiver down.
"How are you?" Mary asked. It wasn't
just a greeting, it was what she wanted to know.
"Fine," Terry said. "Good."
He paused, deciding to tell her what she wanted to know. "I'm almost up
to my normal running schedule. The dogs don't growl at me any more."
"That's good. Are you planning to give up
the downstairs apartment?"
"No. This is only temporary. How's --"
he hesitated. Jack was not pretending not to watch him. "How's everybody?"
he asked.
"We're all doing all right. Dylan misses
you. I told him you're having a honeymoon."
Terry laughed. Every overture he'd made to Jack
had been deflected. Jack kept saying Terry needed to conserve his strength.
"And Eurick?"
"Misses you too, I guess."
"No, I mean, how is he?"
"Fine. Fine. We'll manage in the old way."
Terry took a deeper breath. "How about the
way he was last month? Still like that?"
Jack's lips thinned.
"Not really. Only a little bit. It's like
the beginning, but now we know he'll get better."
"That's better." He flashed Jack a
conciliatory smile. "Listen, Mary, I think Jack wants the phone. You want
to have lunch with me Saturday? We could meet somewhere."
"Roosevelt Tamale Parlor," she blurted,
laughing. "It's why I called."
"You bet. One o'clock?" Terry hurried
to confirm before he was reduced to ashes by Jack's glare.
Jack turned to his work, but Terry could see
that the tips of his ears were red.
"She's my oldest friend," Terry said
after he hung up. "I'm not going to the house."
"I'm not telling you what to do," Jack
said.
Terry went and kissed Jack's cheek. "Was
there something you wanted to do on Saturday? I could change it."
"No, you do what you think is best,"
Jack said, pulling away.
"So, you said you were feeling pretty good,"
Mary said, scrutinizing Terry across the formica table.
"Yeah, I am," Terry said. "Jack
takes good care of me. Too good. But he did tell the shrink not to call me any
more."
"You're really okay?"
"This birria is really good. I guess I'm
a little shook up, mentally."
"I'm sorry it happened," Mary said.
"I'm sorry I didn't treat you better while it was happening."
"You did try to tell me."
"But it was me that asked you to make it
a regular thing. I had this picture of being able to share it with you. Not
really because of the blood. But to have someone else who knew what it was all
about."
"Well, I do know what's all about. That
won't go away."
Mary sighed. "You know, I did the same thing
you did. I knew it wouldn't really work, but I wished it would, and then I believed
in my wish."
"You'd think with all of us feeling guilty
about the same thing, the guilt would get divided up, but instead, it multiplies."
Terry smiled at Mary. "I really miss our
conversation," he said. "All I do is sit around Jack's house and watch
music videos. I think he must get sick of me, but I really can't think what
else to do with myself."
Mary put down her fork. "You know Jack and
Eurick are still working together."
Terry shook his head. "I had that impression.
He doesn't talk to me about his work."
"Really? That's surprising," Mary said,
but she didn't sound all that surprised.
"I'm surprised they can work together. Jack
doesn't want me anywhere near Eurick. Even this is too near. He was really uncomfortable
about me coming here."
"Jack did bring up the subject of breaking
up the partnership but Eurick resisted and so it never happened."
"How is it when he comes over?"
"Pretty good actually. Like it always was.
Hack even stays for meals."
Terry gnawed at an uneven fingernail. "So.
Maybe when Spring rolls around I could take Dylan to soccer again," Terry
said.
"Maybe," Mary said. "We'll see."
"I might even be getting a car. Though it
seems pointless. I'd probably never use it because I wouldn't want to give up
a good parking spot once I found one."
"Remember last Valentine's Day?" Terry
asked Jack over the sound of running water. He was washing dishes. Jack had
just begun to let him.
"Of course, why?" Jack stopped scrubbing
the stove.
"We could do something like that again.
It was fun."
"Like an anniversary." There was a
dangerously cool tone to Jack's voice, as if he didn't like the idea. Terry
composed himself before going on.
"No, not necessarily. It wouldn't have to
be. It could be like it was before. We could just go. Or what you want."
A sound, a shift: Jack had turned around. Terry
did too, with the dish brush in his hands, and Jack's full of cleaner and a
rag.
"I'm sorry," Jack said. "I thought
I knew what you were suggesting, but now I don't."
Terry took a deep breath. Why was this so hard?
"It was just a suggestion. We could go out on Valentine's Day. I wasn't
thinking about what it meant. I was only thinking that it was nice before and
we haven't gone out since before Christmas."
"I'll look into it," Jack said, which
struck Terry oddly, but he nodded as if he understood.
Jack did take Terry to a dance. It wasn't as
silly and inventive as the one they'd been to the year before, but for a little
while Terry didn't think about the events of December, and that was enough.
He did feel naked at first when he couldn't see Jack, but he took a deep shaky
breath and smiled back at the man in front of him. And then he had almost an
hour of forgetful dancing and pure enjoyment before he suddenly felt tired and
unsettled and went looking for Jack. He finally found him, on the sidelines
watching, but shiny with recent effort he must have been dancing, and
was it with that goodlooking man next to him? Terry came within talking distance,
but no closer. He really couldn't tell if Jack was with that man or not.
"Ready to go home?" Jack asked.
"Ready but not anxious," he said carefully,
though really he wanted very much to go home now. Suddenly he felt that he had
no business here, as if he had been marked by the almost-invisible scars on
the inside of his arm, a stranger in human society.
"I'll take you home," Jack said.
"Only if you're ready."
"I've been ready since we got her,"
Jack said.
They walked the chilly street to the car the
way they walked everywhere these days, a foot apart, Jack watching Terry more
than the street, Terry watching Jack. When they got to the car Jack moved as
if to unlock the passenger door for Terry but when Terry stepped close Jack
seized him and kissed him, hard, pushing his tongue far into Terry's mouth,
his hands working at Terry's body, his hips pressing Terry against the car.
"It's what I want," Terry thought,
willing himself to relax. "What am I frightened of?" But he wrapped
his own arms loosely around Jack, resting his hands against Jack's shoulderblades,
caressing him limply, his mouth open but not greedy. Jack pulled back and stared
at him. Terry rested against the side of the car and returned his gaze. The
street was very large and cold and quiet, the streetlights high and lividly
orange. Jack stepped abruptly around the car and got in without saying anything.
Terry climbed in silently, and the ride home was quiet.
Terry began undressing as soon as they got into
the warmth of the house. He sidled close to Jack but Jack was moving through
the house as if he weren't there. Terry put himself in Jack's path, catching
him by the elbows, and kissed him. Jack let him, but that was all.
"I'd better ask," Terry said. "Otherwise,
I'll make an ass of myself. Where are we on this?"
"I wish I knew," Jack said. "Mainly,
when I think about it, I get the creeps."
Terry let out a breath. "The creeps,"
he said slowly. "So. I should move back soon then."
"No."
"well, what then? I give you the creeps,
but I should stay here and clutter up your bed and your house? Don't you think
it would be a good idea for you to find somebody who doesn't give you the creeps?
I'm pretty sure I would like to fine someone who can stand to touch me."
"I don't think it's you that makes me feel
that way."
"What, then? The thought of Eurick? That
can't be it. You're over there all the time. You probably talk to him more than
you talk to me. A lot more."
"Calm down. I don't think it's permanent.
I've been seeing Loria about it. He says you should come to but I know you'd
refuse."
"What does he say about it? No, don't tell
me, I don't think I'd like it."
Terry dropped into Jack's chair and huddled there.
"I know it hurts your feelings," Jack
said.
Terry grimaced at the floor. "Okay, I'm
here sort of as an indefinite guest while you feed me, take care of me, wash
my clothes, give me my fucking iron pills. You drive me places. You don't let
me contribute to the housework --"
"I do too."
"Yeah, a little, lately, occupational therapy
or something. But you don't talk to me, you don't touch me. What am I for? I
can't be for decoration."
"People don't have to be for something."
"I guess that means I'm not good for anything.
Only one question. What was all that kissing about back on the street?"
"I was trying."
"Thanks for the effort. I really thought
for a moment there you wanted me."
"I do, till I think about it."
"Think about what?"
"You know what."
"Once you said you could forget about it
if it was over. Now it's over and you're not forgetting about it."
"I'm trying. Anyway I'm still with you,
aren't I?"
"But you're not getting anything out of
it. I'm just extra work for you."
"You're more than that."
"Yes, I am," Terry said in a burst
of inspiration he knew he'd regret as soon as it was said, "I'm a fucking
Mickey surrogate." He fell back in the chair and squeezed his eyes shut
against the glare of Jack's face.
"No, sweetheart," Jack said. "That
you're not. Nothing like."
Terry opened his eyes. Jack's jaw was as clenched
as his voice.
Terry nodded. "Right. That was presumptuous
of me, wasn't it?"
Jack went downstairs and Terry crawled into bed,
willing himself to fall asleep before Jack came back.
Jack kept staring out the windows. Terry tried
to stay out of the way. Moving back into his own place would require talking
to Jack about it, and anyway Terry didn't want to be the one to take the first
concrete step towards dissolution.
"I'm going to go out by myself tonight,"
Jack said. "Do you want a ride anywhere?" so casually, as if they'd
been doing this all along.
Terry thought he ought to take him up on it.
He pictured himself, smiling, at a man in a crowd in a bar, and the man smiling
back at him, showing his teeth. Chilled, he shook his head. "Unless you
want to have the place to yourself when you come home. I could go to my place."
"No," Jack said hastily. "Don't
disturb yourself. If you're not going out, you may as well stay here."
That next morning was the first time in a long
time that Terry took the Muni to work. He got the Mission bus with minutes to
spare. But Jack was there as usual to pick him up after work, in a new and cheery
mood.
Part way home Jack chuckled, rubbing Terry's
thigh. Terry put a tentative hand on Jack's. Jack withdrew his hand, but only
to make the sharp steep turn at the bottom of his street.
Terry changed into sweats and jogged down the
hill without once looking back. The chuckle had been nice but Terry wasn't going
to expect anything.
He was running his old distances again, and running
up the hill at the end too. That at least felt good, He was supposed to go back
and get another blood test, but he hadn't done it. He planned to take the iron
pills until the refills on the prescription bottle were used up and then forget
about it. He knew Dr. Loria was probably telling Jack that Terry was no more
in control of himself than before, that he was still in danger: and he thought
that it was at least one reason why Jack wouldn't touch him.
He stopped outside Jack's door, letting his breathing
wind down as he contemplated the quince blossoms. Last year at this time just
looking at the flowers as Jack unlocked his door would give him weak legs and
a fluttering belly. How quickly they had become lovers, how easily he had lost
him, and how thoroughly Jack had reasserted himself in Terry's life -- and now
where were they?
When he finally went into the house he had lost
the heat from the exercise and a little chill followed him into the house. Jack
wasn't upstairs. Terry went downstairs, the chill following him around like
a small cloud: no Jack. Had he seen the car out front? He was pretty sure he
had. The door to the back yard gave way reluctantly, squeaking loudly as it
scraped against the sill. There was Jack, staring at his posturing plants in
the dimming light. He turned around at the sound of the door. Terry shivered.
"What's up?" Terry asked, not stepping
further into the yard.
"Just looking at this aloe. It's incredible."
Terry came over. It was. Its soapstone-colored
leaves were fat and rigid. The thorny spikes at the end of the leaves were big
enough to be used as weapons. The whole plant came to Terry's chest. "It
is amazing," Terry said. I think it's even beautiful. But it's scary."
He was too cold. He turned to go back into the
house.
Jack pulled him back and kissed him, his hands
cold, even his lips cold at the first touch, everything harsh and cold about
this embrace. Drowning, Terry backed up. Jack reached after, holding him up,
and Terry didn't try to back up anymore. "Please, let's go inside,"
he thought but he didn't say anything , but allowed his sweats to be tugged
off on the patio.
They did go inside after. Terry started heating
milk for chocolate, warming his hands over the flame. He was sore where he had
rubbed up against the astringent cement of the patio. His pants were on wrong.
The damp spots were icy, and he was cold all through. He didn't feel like doing
anything to remedy any of it.
"What's wrong?" Jack asked from the
doorway.
"Nothing," Terry said, stirring the
milk. Everything's fine.
"It was what you wanted," Jack said.
"Yes. it was. Thank you," Terry said,
cupping his hands around the pot of milk trying to draw the heat in through
his palms.
"You act like you've been violated."
"I'm just cold."
"I guess." Jack turned to go upstairs.
"Don't you want some of this chocolate?
It's almost ready."
"Bring it upstairs. will you?"
After Jack had gone upstairs Terry turned off
the flame and went into the bathroom. He stuck the thermometer between his lips
while he cleaned himself up. A minute later the thermometer had not reached
ninety-seven. He replaced it and ran his tongue over it, trying to warm it.
It rose a little, not much, and the mercury seemed to seep backwards as he watched,
reluctant to admit him that much warmth.
Terry carried two of Jack's faceted black mugs
up the narrow stairs. He handed one of them to Jack in the arm chair and settled
down to drink the other on the floor at Jack's feet, wrapped in his own white
comforter, He wasn't going to tell Jack about his temperature drop. It wasn't
important. He was beginning to feel warmer anyway.
"It was nice," he said without preliminary.
"How was it for you?"
"You were strange," Jack said from
above him. "I wasn't sure you liked it."
"Let's just be inside next time," Terry
said. "I got a little too cold."
"You could have said something."
"Didn't want to break the spell."
Jack leaned over the arm of the chair, frowning
into Terry's face. "Are you serious?"
Terry shrugged, smiling up at him.
"You thought I'd turn off if you said anything?"
"Maybe."
Jack shook his head and sighed.
Mary called Terry to ask if he would take Dylan
to soccer again this year. Terry repeated her question as he agreed to it so
Jack could hear it. He told Jack, "If you think I'm not safe to go over
there, you can come with me when I pick him up and return him. But I miss the
kid and the soccer too."
Jack shrugged. "Do what you want,"
he said. "I'll come if you need me to."
Terry stared at hin. He had been expecting a
struggle and didn't know what to do with the defensive energy he had stored
up for it.
From the first practice meeting, the coach, who
remembered Terry from the year before, enlisted him as an assistant. Terry demonstrated
techniques and finally really warmed up for the first time in a long time.
The warmth stayed with him. When he got home
he found Jack at work. He could tell Jack was still uncomfortable about Terry
having been at Eurick's house because he barely acknowledged Terry's entrance.
Terry came around to the side to give Jack a hug, wanting him to feel this warmth,
the proof, he thought, that he was doing the right thing.
"You're hot," jack said, surprised.
"No, I'm warm," Terry said. "You've
just gotten used to me being cold. Soccer did it."
"You run every day."
"This took me all the way out of myself."
"All you needed was distraction?"
"And to be useful, I think."
"I can't pick you up on Wednesday,"
Jack said. "I'm sorry. I can't get this customer to schedule the meeting
any other time. Will you be okay? You want to ask Lana for a ride?"
Terry laughed. "I have been known to take
the Muni without melting," he said.
"I'll be back around six-thirty," Jack
said.
"We could meet somewhere," Terry said.
"Have dinner out."
Jack brightened. "Yes. That way you don't
have to be alone in the house waiting for me."
Terry bit back a protest, realizing that what
worried Jack was the thought of Terry alone at home, undistracted.
Terry smirked as they waited for a table, because
Jack was too absorbed in the story of his frustrating meeting across the Bay
to notice that Terry was hiding a present behind his back. He slipped the package
next to Jack's plate as they sat down. Jack raised his eyebrows.
"It's no big deal," Terry said.
"So what did I do to deserve this?"
Jack said. It was just a couple of pieces to match Jack's modernistic black
faceted china.
"I don't know. Everything," Terry said.
He played with his fork. "It's not a big deal. I just saw them." And
he saw the man behind the counter at the store, too, though he hadn't done anything
about it this time.
He added, "It was enjoyable to roam around
town on my own. Just poking my nose into things, riding the Muni. You don't
have to plan your schedule around me."
"I like picking you up. I don't just do
it because you've been sick."
Terry measured his words carefully. "It's
okay either way. I enjoy riding with you. But I enjoy wandering around on my
own too."
"All right," Jack said. "Terry
marks out his independence. Fair enough." Then he burst out laughing.
Terry smiled, but he didn't laugh. "You
can tell that to your Dr. Loria. Progress."
Terry dropped by at Dylan's birthday party. The
boys were, if anything, more animated than they year before. Eurick stood in
the approximate center of the small mob, still and composed, only occasionally
interjecting a comment or admonition, so apparently wrapped up in the banter
and play of the boys that he didn't at first notice Terry in the yard. Dylan
called Terry's name as he swooped around from the other side of Eurick. Terry
looked over Dylan's embrace to see Eurick smile briefly and look away.
"Here, sport," Terry said, handing
Dylan his present. "I've got to be somewhere this afternoon, or I'd stay.
See you Tuesday."
Dylan was off again among his friends, and Terry
left by the gate. Walking down the sunny street with his hands in his pockets,
he thought: I can tell. He's not getting enough of it, whatever it is that he
gets from blood. It was there in his eyes before he looked away.
back to The
Donor index
forward to chapter twenty-one
back to chapter nineteen
back to The
Crystal Egg