“They’re on Lee and Indy Sex Watch.”“Come again?”“They want to know when we’ve done it.”Silence. I went on.“If we don’t do it soon, they might force us to at gunpoint.”“Christ.”“I know. No pressure though. I told them we’re taking is slow.”“You have to report in?”“I kind of feel obliged.”“How’s that?”I didn’t want to tell him I’d recruited them both for Lee Maneuvres in the past, so I said, “Never mind.”“If something doesn’t happen soon, it’s gonna be bad. I can’t keep focussed, all I can think of is what’s on your Victoria’s Secret credit statement.“You need to keep focused,” I told him, “bad guys are after me.”“Tell me about it.”
“My mate Karl once told me he’d been looking after this five-year-old boy who – not knowing enough to have an ironic inflection to his words – said, ‘I want something.’ He didn’t know what it was. Not ‘I want sweets’, or ‘a can of Coke’, or ‘to watch the Tweenies’, or whatever it is they’re into now (I like Bagpuss), but ‘I want something.’ All of us, I think, have that feeling. And what heroin does when you first start taking it is tell you what that something is.”
“Shh!” the guy beside me hissed again.“Blame him,” I told the guy, pointing at Patch. The guy craned his neck back. “Listen,” he said, facing me again. “If you don’t quiet down, I’ll get security.”“Fine, go get security. Tell them to take him away,” I said, again signaling Patch. “Tell them he wants to kill me.”“I want to kill you,” hissed the guy’s girlfriend,”
“This is a bad story.”“Sorry. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have told you.”“No, you should,” I say.“But—”“I don’t want there to be bad stories and me not know them.”
“You have fought for and claimed your names, and though you may be struck, you will never fall. And that…” His eyes moisten, fear tingeing his voice, no, it’s apprehension. He takes a breath, steels himself. “And that is why I love you.”Seconds pass as his words settle in. I know what he wants to hear, what he aches to hear, what his eyes plead me for. But I can’t tell him that because he wants to hear it back. I can’t tell him that because it might be what he’s pinning his hopes on, a bulwark he’ll set against madness. I can’t tell him that because Heath could never get a guy like him. I can’t tell him that because I don’t want him to be alone, or because I don’t want to be alone. I can’t tell him that because of a million stupid reasons that he would eventually see through, and resent me for. I can’t lie to him.“I love you, Cale.”I tell him because I mean it.”
“Yeah, I lied and I shouldn’t have and it was lousy of me and I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I never wanted that, and I wish so bad I could take it all back, okay? But we both know which one of us is lying now and it’s not me. So you call me when you want to actually talk to me and not just yell at me or tell me what a shitty person I am. I already…yeah, I already know that, okay?”