Hadrian's Lover (8 page)

“I tried not to—but—I just—I hate myself so much—I couldn’t stop myself.”

Closing his eyes, thinking briefly, Geoffrey asks, “When was the last time you saw Edgar?” He had been so busy he had stopped attending sessions with Dean.

“Last fall.”

Nodding, Geoffrey continues, “And why did you stop going?”

“He said I had improved so much he didn’t see the need to keep up with our sessions.”

“Right.” Opening his eyes, looking into Dean’s, Geoffrey asks, “And why didn’t you tell me this?”

“Things were going good.”

“What about the Seroxat?”

Dean evades the questions. “My arms hurt, Geoffrey. You’re cutting off my circulation.”

“If I let you go, will you promise not to hit yourself?”

Dean shudders a few breaths before replying, “I’ll try.”

Geoffrey tightens his grip, “Try isn’t good enough.”

“I…” Dean trembles, “promise.”

Releasing his knees, Geoffrey slips off Dean to sit on the floor beside him. “The Seroxat, Dean—when did you come off the Seroxat?”

“Edgar started tapering me off in the fall. I took my last dose in February.”

Geoffrey looks dejected. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Ire forming once more, he demands, “Why didn’t Edgar tell me?”

Still lying on the floor, Dean covers his face with his hands. “I told him I would.”

Geoffrey snorts. “And he believed you?”

“I was doing so good.”

“
Well
, Dean! You were doing
well
! And, you were doing
well
because you were on the Seroxat!”
Dear Hadrian, why,
he chastises himself,
did I correct his grammar?
Closing his eyes, Geoffrey pauses for a moment to regulate his breath, attempting to calm himself. Sadness is so overwhelming and fear for the mental and physical health of a lover can cause one to consider acting outside of reason. At this moment, all Geoffrey wants to do is hunt
down Edgar and pummel him into dirt. In anticipation, quite involuntarily, his hands form fists. Geoffrey has to force himself to relax them, and almost against his will, shake these thoughts away. Looking back at Dean, Geoffrey notices that his pants and briefs are still tangled around his ankles, his shirt still strewn open, exposing his chest. Geoffrey reaches for the waistband of Dean’s briefs. “Let me help you, sweetie,” he says soothingly. After helping Dean pull his briefs and pants back into place, Geoffrey watches as Dean buttons them shut. “You left your shirt open,” he says. Dean stares at the wall, oblivious. Pondering the situation, Geoffrey wonders whether Dean has any benzies left. “Do you still have some Zolam?” When Dean only whimpers, Geoffrey becomes insistent. “Where is it?”

“It’s probably expired.”

“Where is it?”

Dean succumbs to the inevitable. “My top dresser drawer—under the socks—back right corner.”

“I am going to get it now and you are going to take some.” Considering Dean’s current state of mind, Geoffrey adds, “Your full dose.”

“Please,” Dean begs. “I want to do this without drugs.”

Geoffrey shakes his head. “It didn’t work for you, did it, Dean?” Adamant now, he says, “No. You need Zolam right now. You know you do.” As he gets up and walks down the hall to their room, Geoffrey blinks and mutters, “Edgar Fraser.” Dean cries softly. Geoffrey’s voice fades out as he enters the bedroom, but he will make an appointment with Edgar that evening at seven o’clock. There will be several evening appointments to come since Geoffrey will insist on attending them. From their room, Geoffrey calls out, “The boys will be home soon, Dean. You better come into the bedroom.”

Accepting his circumstances, Dean rises slowly to join Geoffrey. “After the Zolam kicks in,” he says softly, “we can have sex like you wanted.” Geoffrey doesn’t hear this since Dean is only muttering to himself.

For seven years now, I have been asked to revisit the pain that was inflicted upon our people that fateful June day in 21___. That June 13
^th
was, ironically enough, a Friday. In the early hours of that ill-fated morning, the fanatical Christian, one Jeremiah F. Butler, believed to hail from Tex (formerly the state of Texas within the United States), drove into our border city of Augustus. At 5:57 that morning, with the summer sun already hanging high above the horizon, he was asked to please step out of his vehicle. Border Patrol Officer Acilia Zangani, who died the instant the bomb exploded, having voc’d in prior to the explosion, was quoted as saying, “Although there is no reason to mistrust this man, something about him feels dangerous.” The Border Patrol Office in Antinous, which later said Officer Zangani’s instincts were always 100 percent accurate, approved her request to retain him for questioning. When instructed to leave his vehicle, the man must have panicked because, at that instant, the dirty nuclear bomb hidden in his trunk exploded. Five hundred and eighty-eight thousand of Augustus’ citizens died that day. Their deaths were followed by another forty-four thousand: those who were at the city’s northern edge or working peacefully on the surrounding soya farms. Those closest to the bomb’s explosion, but far enough away not to die under its initial impact, suffered slowly from radiation burns, sickness, and the onset of various forms of cancer. Many working out on the farms would not know how their lives would be dramatically changed due to contracting cancers anywhere from six months to even as late as, yes, even today: cancers we know to have been induced by the deadly radiation. As a result of 6-13, Hadrian lost one of its greatest innovators in bioengineering, Will Middleton, the man responsible for genetically altering the soya bean to grow in our northern climate.

Since 6-13, many of Hadrian’s citizens have suffered from apocalyptic dreams. This is understandable since Augustus is the third city to have suffered from a nuclear attack. For some time, it appeared that the world had learned and people were unwilling to unleash such devastating brutal power against their fellow man, but it seems that fanatical faith is not prone to learn from past human mistakes. Please, fellow citizens, if you are one of the many who suffer from such horrifying nightmares, seek out one of Hadrian’s many competent and compassionate psychiatrists. There is no need to suffer alone.

So there you have it, Hadrian. As well as 6-13 stealing one of our greatest minds, Will Middleton, it has left many of our citizens subjected to psychological trauma. We will never forgive the heterosexual world for condemning us. Never again will an outsider cross our borders.

Vale!

Mike’s recurring nightmare always begins in an idyllic setting, at the Fulton family cottage on an isolated beach north of Antinous on the Churchill River. This is where, every summer for the first thirteen years of their marriage, Will Middleton and Mike Fulton would pack up the bubble and take Todd for vacation. As well as the golden sand that runs for miles along the river’s southern shore, there is the scenic beauty of the boreal forest still growing in this region. The dream always opens here. It is always early evening and Todd is always busy building sandcastles, digging moats, and filling them with water. The scene is tranquil, the skyline lilac, interspersed with dark blue. Will Middleton, six inches taller than his partner, rests his arm on Mike Fulton’s shoulder. Mike, as always, pulls in tight to Will’s side, walking at a slight angle as a result. Will laughs along with Todd, enjoying the sights and sounds of his play. Then he looks down at Mike, smiles, and ruffles the shorter man’s hair. Mike soaks in every gesture from his spouse. Will Middleton is not one to express feelings physically, nor verbally, so moments like this are rare. Although the sun is behind Will, his face appears radiant and Mike feels himself at his most in love. Reaching up using his toes, Mike is pleasantly surprised by Will’s leaning down to meet his lips for a kiss. Todd’s laughter flaps like butterfly wings in Mike’s chest, causing his heart to beat rapidly. For a fleeting moment, Mike wonders whether now is the time for them to have their second child, his genetic son or daughter. Just as Mike’s lips are about to connect with his lover’s, Will Middleton disappears.

Mike is stunned. “Will? Will?” he cries out. And then he sees him; Will Middleton is inside a mirror—
what is he doing inside a mirror?
Mike always wonders—bent over working on a soya farm just outside of Augustus City, the city shimmering in the background.
What is Will doing outside Augustus City?
But his
question is never answered. All Mike can do is watch in horror as a thunderous explosion occurs behind Will and a mushroom cloud billows over Augustus City in the background. The ensuing winds, shooting out from the city and racing across the field, form a hand that clutches Will Middleton. Tauntingly it lifts its victim, suspending him by digging one gnarly nail into his neck. Will screams and struggles against the force lifting him, but he can do nothing to escape its grip. Slowly, Will’s life force begins to drain away until all that remains is a limp bag of skin. When nothing remains of what was once Will Middleton, the wind whips his husk against the inside of the mirror shattering the glass, its sharp shards slashing Todd, cutting deep into his skin. Screaming, Todd leaps up from his sandcastle and runs wildly into his Papa Mike.

In horror, Mike Fulton stares at the boy clutching him. He pushes Todd off, but the boy climbs back on, crying, begging for his daddy. It is as if Todd is made of glue and is now stuck to him. Mike, using both hands, grabs one of Todd’s arms, and with great effort, plucks it off. As soon as Mike releases his grip and reaches for Todd’s other arm, the first arm, as if being pulled by magnets or gravity, slams back into him. Every time Mike plucks one of Todd’s hands away, the other hand slams back into him, gripping, clutching, sucking onto him like a river leech. Suddenly, a war of gripping and plucking occurs until Mike, unable to bear it any longer, sits up in his bed, screaming at Todd to let go of him—to get off—to leave him alone!

Sweating in horror, Mike leaps out of bed and races to the linen closet—now Todd’s small bedroom. The closet door is open as usual, but there is no Todd. Relieved, Mike sinks to his knees. Todd is not here to hear him scream. Too many times, Mike has awoken from this nightmare to discover Todd sleeping. Never will Mike wake him to ask whether Todd can hear him. It is safe, Mike believes, to assume Todd knows nothing of his inner loathing for the boy—Todd lives while his husband died. Todd lives while his responsibility to produce a child has been relinquished due to impoverished means. Todd lives while his sperm is being used to provide barren men and women with children. His children! “At least one child should have been given to me to raise.” Having had a loving relationship with his genetic mother, Mike had longed for his own parenting role. Riddled with guilt, Mike cries as he grieves and self-recriminates. “I’m sorry, Todd,” he blubbers. But his apology is insincere.

June is coming to its end, and like every other Friday afternoon that school year, Frank Hunter and Todd Middleton arrange to meet at Todd’s locker. It has become a tradition for these two to spend every Friday after school having supper at the Soya Baron (where “
the Soya Burger is King!
”). The Soya Baron is conveniently located across the street from Pride High. Lacking the special thumbprint to connect him to an account, Todd has no purchasing power, so it is always Frank’s treat. Being more like brothers than “just friends,” it never makes Todd feel awkward to have Frank pay for him. Frank and Todd are best friends, having been best friends since they were in the cradle. Will Middleton, Todd’s genetic father, and Dean Hunter had been best friends since their high school years. Papa Dean often reminds Todd and Frank how the boys used to sleep together in the crib. In fact, sleepovers were a common event for these two until the onset of puberty. With sexual awakenings apparent in both boys (thirteen being a critical age), Frank’s fathers sat Frank and Todd down to warn them how sharing a bed now would be too awkward. Papa Mike, Frank’s fathers assured Todd, would agree. Papa Mike did not participate in this crucial parent/son discussion. Ever since Will Middleton’s death, Mike Fulton had taken very little notice of Todd’s growing needs. Still, Geoffrey Hunter and Papa Dean assured Todd that Papa Mike and they did not want their sons becoming sexually active at so young an age. Well, they had nothing to worry about with Todd. Although he had yearnings, he wasn’t interested in having sex with anyone yet. Frank, on the other hand, unknown to his fathers, began sexually experimenting when he was thirteen. Although Frank wants to be with Todd, he has begrudgingly come to accept that Todd is still listening to their parents. It doesn’t help that Papa Dean constantly reminds Todd that Papa Mike and he approve of his choice to wait until he is ready, or at least eighteen.

Today, Frank is late. Todd sighs. He is starving! Leaning against his pink locker, Todd settles in for the long wait. Disappointment begins to swell in Todd’s chest. Frank is already fifteen minutes late. It is not unusual for Frank to be late, but he is seldom ever ten minutes past the appointed time: three-thirty (ten minutes after the school bell). If he’s later than ten minutes, Todd knows Frank will usually not show. Todd is used to Frank standing him up. It seems like the older they get, the hornier Frank gets, and the more often he ignores Todd to go off with one of his boys. Frank’s absence really stings tonight because, once again, Papa Mike is working overtime. The last thing Todd wants is to spend another night at home alone.
Where are you, Frank?
Todd wonders.

“He’s on a date.” Leaning up against the purple locker next to Todd is Devon Rankin. Devon is slightly taller than Todd, standing 5’ 8”, but he has less muscle definition. He too plays b-ball, but unlike Todd, Frank, and Crystal (the three stars of Pride’s Panthers and known by all as the three gay caballeros), his dedication level only landed him on the junior team in grade ten. The three gay caballeros played on the senior team last year. Even so, Devon is in good physical shape. His smile is radiant and his blonde curly locks dangle over his shoulders. Today, he is wearing his hair tied back in a loose ponytail. He wears silver stud diamond earrings and a thick silver chain to match. Leaning with his back to the locker, Devon’s hands are hidden behind his backside. He offers Todd his profile, definitely his most handsome feature.

“Huh?” Todd looks around at Devon, unaware that he had expressed aloud his thoughts concerning Frank’s whereabouts. Devon smiles, exposing for Todd perfect teeth. “Uh, we were supposed to meet,” Todd mumbles.

“Yeah, well, I saw him leaving about five minutes ago with Davie.” He clicks the inside of his cheek as he winks. “Davie’s pretty sweet. And they say he’ll even tumble on the first date.”

Todd smirks. “I guess he’s Frank’s type then.”

“Yeah,” Devon concurs, “which explains why the two of you are only friends.”

Todd laughs outright at that. “Yeah. I can’t imagine myself ever looking, or acting, like the tinsel tarts Frank dates.”

“Tinsel tarts,” Devon chuckles. “I like that.” Studying Todd briefly, Devon is very agreeable at the moment. “Yeah, I don’t like guys looking
like women either. I mean, what’s the point? It feels too, het’ro, if you know what I mean.”

Todd assumes a serious expression. “Yeah, yeah, I know what you mean.”

“Now you,” Devon says, nodding Todd’s way. “You dress the way I like a man to dress.”

“Really?” Todd is flattered. Devon is actually the first person to compliment his style of clothing. “Everyone else says I look too much like a ‘mechanic’.” He feigns quotation marks with his fingers.

“Hey,” Devon asks, “isn’t your father a mechanic?”

“Papa Mike is.”

“What does your father do?” Seeing gloom in Todd’s eyes, Devon immediately apologizes, “I’m sorry, Todd. I didn’t know.”

“That’s okay,” Todd replies. “I don’t really talk about it.”

“That’s okay; I understand.” Devon’s compassion touches Todd. “Do you mind my asking what he did?”

“Nah, sure. Dad was an agricultural engineer.”

“Wow!” Devon exclaims. “That’s big!” Suddenly Devon realizes Todd’s last name is the same as the famous bioengineer Will Middleton. “Your dad was
Will Middleton
?”

“Yeah,” says Todd, proud of his father’s accomplishments.

“No wonder you’re so good at b-ball. Will Middleton was one of the greatest college b-ball players ever.”

“He also helped establish the soya farms in Quadrant One,” said Todd. No one had believed Will Middleton when he had said soya would grow in the grasslands of Quadrants One and Two, considering it was not that long ago on the evolutionary scale that the region had been mostly boreal forest. But with the rapid increase in planet temperature, the temperate marshy grasslands quickly moved north, and with the onset of hot summers and moderate winters, the southern tips of Quadrants One and Two proved to be fertile soil for the valuable, lifesaving plant. With less room for raising livestock, the soya plant has become crucial in providing Hadrian’s citizens with much needed protein, especially since cattle are nearing extinction. With over twenty billion people crowding the earth, very little room is left for cattle ranches. In fact, the national government only allows one cattle ranch to exist within Hadrian’s walls because the methane gases released by the cattle were a major cause of global warming. Living in
an environmentally sound and balanced environment is, and will always be, one of Hadrian’s central principles. Todd is proud that his father was instrumental in ensuring Hadrian’s ability to live in harmony with its small portion of the earth. “Yeah,” Todd continues, “Dad used to travel there a lot…” Pausing, Todd squeezes shut his eyes, trying desperately to hold back the hot tears fighting to stream out. “He travelled to the southern tip—soya farms—he was there when—”

“Oh, shit!” Devon is truly sorry. “6-13!”

“Yeah, well,—” Todd loses focus and begins to sob. He misses his father so much his whole body aches in agony. Will Middleton’s death had spun both husband and son into such a state of despair that their parent–child relationship has never recovered.

“Hey, hey.” Devon reaches his arms around Todd and pulls him in for a hug. He rocks Todd gently in his arms, allowing him time to cry while he whispers soothing hushing sounds. There are no words for a moment like this, and Devon doesn’t even try to find them.

“I’m sorry,” Todd utters through gasps. “It’s been eight years; you’d think—”

Devon won’t even let him finish. “No, I wouldn’t be able to get over it.” Still rocking Todd gently, he says, “You cry as long as you want. As long as you need!” Todd accepts Devon’s offer and releases a flood of pent up grief. He has only been able to share this level of emotion with Frank and Crystal. Having another person feel empathy is relieving.

After Todd is spent, Devon asks whether he’d like to have dinner with him. “At your place?” Todd asks.

Pleased that Todd is responding on a positive level, Devon replies, “I was thinking maybe we could go to a Japanese restaurant. How about
Rezu
?”
Rezu
is Japanese slang for lesbian. The restaurant owners have chosen to embrace the slang term and make it their own.

Todd shudders. “Oh, man, I can’t—I mean—” Todd is not sure how to tell Devon he doesn’t even have a thumbprint, let alone credits.

Devon smiles. “I’m asking for the date, so it’s my treat.” After waiting a moment without reply, he asks, “So, what do you think?”

A date
? Todd wonders what this might mean.
He won’t pressure me, I don’t think.
Remembering Devon’s description of Davie (tumbles on the first date), Todd feels reassured that Devon isn’t likely to expect anything. “Okay,” Todd replies, still sounding uneasy, “if it’s not too expensive—I
mean, I’ve heard
Rezu
is pricey—I don’t want you blowing all your credits on me.”

“Nothing’s too pricey for my first date with you.” Laughing, Devon says, “I can’t believe you said yes. Man, I’ve been wanting to ask you out all year.”

Todd blinks, “Really? Me?” He shakes his head in wonder. “I’m nothing special. I’m certainly not good looking or—”

Devon puts a finger to Todd’s lips. “You are a prize, my friend. Half the guys at Pride want to date you, but we’re all too scared to ask.”

“Why?” Todd is truly dumbfounded.

“Mostly out of fear of Frank,” Devon answers. Suddenly realizing Todd really doesn’t understand why anyone is afraid of him, he adds, “But, also because you’re the best damn b-ball player on campus. You got Rookie of the Year at Quadrants. I think everyone’s intimidated by that.”

Intimidated by me?
Todd finds that concept hard to believe. It is amazing how humble a man can be when he is afraid of what other people might think.

“Come on,” Devon says, squeezing Todd’s shoulder muscle, in anticipation. “I got my mothers’ bubble. We’ll drive to
Rezu
.” Devon’s mothers own a ‘double bubble,’ a slightly larger vehicle designed to sit four. Only registered couples with one or two children are eligible to purchase one. All other residents of Hadrian are confined to owning a single bubble. Once partners register as a legally bound couple (the equivalent of marriage), they are required to sell off one bubble, reducing the number of vehicles driven throughout Hadrian, thus limiting congestion and the number of road accidents. It also helps ensure less energy waste. When a registered couple is preparing for the arrival of a newborn, they are free to trade in their bubble for the family-sized double bubble.

As the two boys approach the small vehicle, Devon laughs, remembering when he and his mothers went in five years ago to trade their old double bubble in for a newer, more reliable version. The salesman had a bowl of an odd-looking gum on his desk. He said it was called double bubble! “Did you know that the name double bubble once was a type of chewing gum?” Devon asks Todd. “From way back when.” Just to add emphasis to how long ago this really was, Devon not only extends the vowel in ‘way’ but also gestures with open palms a very long extension. Todd shakes his head. “Yeah, the guy who sold us this bubble told us all about it. It’s a small pink
rectangle with an indent in the middle. It comes wrapped inside a joke comic. When I first tasted it, I thought it was really great—super sweet, but the flavor only lasted a few minutes. The man said they used the original recipe to make it. I mean it was really good, but for such a short period. I ended up spitting it out.” Todd’s look of surprise that anyone would so blatantly litter encourages Devon to add, “Don’t worry; I learned my lesson. Mama Rena caught me and gave me such a tongue lashing when we got home.” Laughing, he adds, “Mama Rena believes a spanking every now and again never hurt anybody, so she actually paddled my backside that day.” Reassuring his new friend, he adds, “I’ve never done anything like that again.”

Todd nods his approval. “You’re lucky only your mama caught you!”

“Tell me about it,” Devon agrees. Both boys shudder at the thought. No one litters in Hadrian. The fines if caught are astronomical, and if you amass a record of three offenses, the government will exile you from Hadrian!

Devon opens the bubble for Todd by tapping on the roof, causing the transparent door to slide down. Todd steps up and then down into the small vehicle. It looks so small that it seems impossible for anyone to fit into it, but it is surprisingly roomy inside. Even a man of 6’ 5” can sit inside a bubble and not feel cramped. After settling into the driver’s side, Devon turns Todd’s way. “I can’t wait till we get to
Rezu
.” Smiling, he adds, “I don’t know about you, man, but I’m starving!” As if on cue Todd’s stomach growls, causing Devon to laugh. “Good, you’re hungry too! I know just what to order us when we get there!” Todd can’t help but laugh along with Devon, his playful mood infectious.