In case you couldn't tell, I'm not used to writing male/male relationships. My advice for anyone who needs some ideas is to watch the movie Velvet Goldmine. I've already plugged it about a million times this weekend and I'm sure my friends are sick of hearing about it. But for the record, I got the basis for any romance (it's more like fluff, I've realized, much to my dismay) comes from Arthur and Curt in that movie. Watch it. It's good. This is the end of the Author's Note.
Disclaimer: Apart from the above, I have nothing to disclaim. All characters are mine and mine alone. If you want to borrow them (for reasons known only to yourself), all I ask is that you let me know.
Dedication: To the other participants in this round robin, I apologize for the delay in getting this written…cheers!
Acid
I stretched lazily and swung my shirtless form out of bed. I guessed that I must have slept oddly on my left shoulder, because not only my shoulder, but my whole back hurt like hell. Rubbing my neck, I stumbled across the room to one of the many windows in the loft.
The street outside was quiet. I leaned against the window and watched an Indian cab driver arguing with his fare. From high above, the cabbie seemed to be threatening to rip the passenger limb from limb and hurl the various pieces in different directions down the street, and the passenger insisting that a giant rock was going to fall from the sky and land on the driver. At least, that was what I had to assume based on their gestures. I wondered how anyone could watch television on mute if those were the kinds of misunderstandings it led to.
I turned back to my room and started hunting for something to wear. I'd taken the laundry out of the fountain the day before yesterday, so I knew that there must be something clean to wear somewhere. Kicking aside a pile of clothes, I unearthed a small potted fern and a vintage alarm clock. The clock tipped over, and as I bent down to set it back up, I noticed that the hands indicated that it was already 11:30.
"Ah, shit," I muttered, pulling a green plaid shirt and a pair of jeans from the pile. I held the shirt at arm's length to inspect it. It was a bit wrinkled, but otherwise in passable condition. Late as I was, it would have to do. I pulled on the jeans, and ran across the room to the stairs, buttoning them and yanking on the shirt on the way. I threw open the door to the stairwell and ran down the stairs two at a time.
Ten minutes later, I was seated on one of the city's shuttle buses, headed for 42nd Street and the Sheep Meadow. I dimly understood that I was going there to participate in a rally for…for…for what? I couldn't really remember.
My friend Merrim leaned over to talk to me over the noise of the other passengers, his long black hair falling over his right eye.
"I hear it's going to be a real happening," he shouted, tucking his hair back behind his ear.
I looked up. I hadn't heard a word.
"What?"
Merrim smiled and put an arm around my shoulders. He was pretty cool like that, I thought. Gods, he's tripped often enough not to freak out over you every time you leave your body for a little bit. We had been lovers for a little while, about a year ago, but we broke up because neither of us had really wanted to commit ourselves formally to a relationship. To anything, really, I had thought at the time, when Merrim and I had been discussing it. We were free people, and everyone around us was a free person, and we felt like being formally involved with anyone was inhibiting our natural instinct to procreate. It was a scientific and beautiful way of saying we wanted to be able to sleep around, but then I guess beauty is wasted on our forms of procreation.
"A real happening," Merrim repeated. "Everyone'll be there." He waited expectantly for me to say something.
The truth was, though, that I didn't care. It was different a year ago, or two years ago, when the War with the Ocean countries was a reality. Then, I was a revolutionary, a hippie, marching in the streets and smoking in the park. We all hated the government for what they were doing to our society. But that was before the government started creating genetically engineered soldiers to fight, and stopped the draft. I remembered being happy about them stopping the draft, about never having to go to war, and running around the Village shouting out that we were all free.
Right.
Then they started sending their soldiers into the City itself. They said it was to protect the civilians. But we suspected differently, and grew even more suspicious when the soldiers started putting up a low building in a lot about half a mile away from the loft that Merrim, a friend of ours called Lightly, and I were sharing at the time.
It bothered us to have soldiers living so close to us. If it had been real soldiers, called back from the fronts, happy to be alive, we would have gone over there damn quick. We'd have found them, smoked a bit, and bitched about the government. We'd have stayed talking till about four in the morning, and probably all ended up having sex on the floor.
But it wasn't real soldiers, and that was the problem. It was these…things. They weren't people, they were these…things that the government made! They existed to fight, to kill. And that scared us.
"Yeah," I said to Merrim. That seemed to satisfy him, and he went back to looking out the window of the shuttle. There wasn't much to look at. Gradually over the course of the war, the government had replaced both the really tall and really small buildings with two-story concrete bunkers. They said that they wanted to be prepared if the Ocean countries bombed us. It never actually happened, and since our troops seemed to have killed off every inhabitant over there, it didn't seem likely that we ever would be bombed. Now, the bunkers were covered in posters and graffiti, advertising old movies and arms manufacturers and who was a good lay.
That was somehow comforting, that no matter how much the world might change, the human species would still be overwhelmingly concerned with sex. Love might be forgotten, but sex would remain. I once thought about how much better the world might be if, rather than fighting each other, international disagreements were solved by massive orgies. First country to get tired loses. And the upside is, if the respective heads of government kept at it for long enough, they'd be bound to develop some new positions. Yeah, that was definitely the way things would be if I were in charge.
Abruptly, the shuttle stopped, and the other passengers rose together and went out through the "in" door like a herd of misguided sheep. Merrim and I went out through the proper door and made our way through a short maze of 7-foot-high concrete walls to an expanse of dead grass and dirt.
The Sheep Meadow. It was possibly one of the most enduring landmarks of the city. No one could remember a time when it hadn't existed. I loved it. To me, it embodied all that New York was. It was enclosed by some of the only remaining skyscrapers in the city, and if you stood at the north edge, you could sometimes make out the lights of Times Square through the smog. Today, the lawn was covered with protesters. There must have been about two thousand people there, come from all over the city to whine and shout about how much the government was screwing things up.
Merrim and I ran across the lawn, dodging groups of people both sitting and standing, and finally spotted Lightly on the far side. I had always found Lightly beautiful. He had long blond hair, which usually stood out slightly from his head, as though he had been shocked, hazel eyes, and a thin aquiline nose. Today he was wearing an embroidered linen shirt, open, and tight jeans, and I stuffed my hands into my pockets so as not to embarrass myself. Have you ever noticed that you're much less likely to do stupid things if your hands aren't floating around? The one time I asked Lightly to sleep with me, we were at a diner and I had my elbows propped on the table. He was firmly and decidedly straight, though, and it was a damned long time before I could convince any girl to date me, let alone sleep with me. So that was the end of that, as far as Lightly was concerned.
Lightly passed me a joint as we sat down, and before long all three of us were dead stoned. The rally continued on around us, with most everyone in the same state as us. Later on, I asked Merrim how people sitting around, high, on the ground were supposed to change the world. He just gave me one of his trademark looks and said "It does." When Merrim looked at you, it didn't mean that he focused his eyes in your direction and registered your image in his brain. I mean, it meant that too, but he had a way of doing it that somehow managed to impart pity, superciliousness, contempt, and a measure of "shut up right now" all at the same time. I don't know how he did it, but I assume it had something to do with the way his eyes looked. My eyes are kind of dark brown and narrow. People described them as looking as though I were perpetually suspicious of someone. Merrim has dark green eyes, with flecks of yellow in them, and supernaturally long eyelashes. He would kind of half-lower his eyelids, angle his head downwards, and then gaze out at you from under his eyebrows. The effect was unsettling. Beyond that, I had never managed to decode the mechanics of "the look," so it remained his own secret weapon, used whenever I started asking questions that just didn't have answers. At least not right then.
The one thing I never got the look about was the issue of the soldiers, who they were and what they were doing in our neighborhood. We, that is, Merrim, Lightly and I, spent a lot of time talking about it. Most of the time, we felt like the drugs we were taking gave us extra perception that other people didn't have; we felt as though we had all the answers to life's questions. But not for this. We didn't know what they were, even though Merrim and Lightly debated about it endlessly. When I said earlier that we spent a lot of time talking about the soldiers, I meant something a bit different.
I am not a thinker. I'm not really a doer, either. I don't know what I am, and I suspect that I'm not much of anything. Merrim and Lightly used to roll a joint each and speculate until the sun came up, while I would listen. Sometimes I would water my plants or sit in a corner and think, in my own way, about the past, present, and future. I like to think in pictures and sounds. Once in a while, I'll think in short sentences, but I'm not one of those people who can look at the world around themselves and work out something sensible and insightful about it.
So, I listened to my friends thinking about government conspiracies and secret treaties with other countries. I was always impressed by how well they thought, and how when they put forward ideas, they didn't mix up words or stumble over their own tongues. Sometimes I think about my plants.
We were all asleep on the lawn when some girl came over to get us to dance with her for peace. I blinked groggily and sat up. The girl squatted down in front of me.
"Morning, love." She extended a hand. "My name's Eagle. What's yours?"
I took her hand, probably looking somewhat dazed. "Penn," I said.
She smiled brightly and got to her feet, pulling me up with her. "Hi Penn." She turned to Merrim.
"Merrim," he said, shaking her hand with a lopsided grin. "This is Lightly." Lightly raised an eyebrow and said, "Morning," then looked up and corrected himself. "Late afternoon."
Eagle laughed and grabbed my hand in one of hers and Lightly's in her other, and ran off across the grass to where there was already a large crowd. Merrim ran along beside us, running fast so that his long hair wouldn't catch up with him and get in his face. He ran standing almost straight up, with just his legs and arms moving. I think people run like that who have never run on anything but grass. There's something about grass that just compels you to run fast, but without actually trying to go fast, without feeling like you're running a race. I love grass. Not the pot kind, the green kind. I wish I could have seen green grass. I would have gone to the park at midnight during a full moon, and danced barefoot all by myself. Even if there were no pipes of Pan, and no dryads to dance with me or play with my hair, I think it would have been a beautiful experience. Beauty is another thing I like.
There were a lot of people dancing when we got to the other side of the meadow. There was an electric band, playing rock and roll. People were swaying and spinning and grooving and jumping and running to the beat. Some you could just tell were tripping, and some were dead stoned. Some were just glad to be alive and happy. I asked Merrim later how people dancing were supposed to change the world. That got me another look.
Eagle grabbed both my hands and we spun around in a circle until I started feeling dizzy and had to sit down. I fell down onto the ground and lay on my back, looking up at the sky and the clouds and the helicopters that buzzed by once in a while. Eagle leaned over me, grinning, tickling my nose with the end of one of her long braids. I sneezed and closed one eye, squinting at her skeptically through the other. She laughed, a floating sort of chiming laugh. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard, but pulled my head away anyway. I was afraid of her, this gentle creature. She frowned at my reaction, then smiled as I moved back, and she stretched out- down on the ground- next to me.
I stiffened as she put her head on my shoulder.
No, no. Not like that. I felt like every nerve in my body had suddenly tensed and was accepting her gravitational force as completely opposite pole. And so, even though my better sense told me not to, I rolled over and faced her from about a foot and a half away.
"No," I said, not really knowing what I was saying no to. Girlfriends had I none. Boyfriends had I none…Friends had I very few. Sex had I not enough.
"No? But why?" She looked hurt. I felt it, and it hurt me. But it didn't matter now, because I had, however unintentionally, just lost my chance with Eagle. Lightly came over about then and offered us a bottle of water. I refused, and pushed myself off the ground and walked away. From about a hundred yards away, I looked back, and saw Lightly and Eagle lying together on the grass. It was too far off to see more, and to be honest, I didn't really care to see more than that. Stuffing my hands in my back pockets, I headed towards the edge of the park. When I got there I turned around and leaned against the retaining wall, watching the people. There were still a lot of people at the rally…the rally…rally for what?
I still didn't know.
I heard a sound from the street behind the wall. The sound of feet marching. A regular tramping sound, that felt so strange after the erratic beat of the music at the rally. I heard the quiet static of a radio and panicked.
No…no…they wouldn't come here…please let them not be here.
My mind couldn't identify what my body already knew for sure, but it was terrified. I ran a bit away from the sound, which had stopped on the far side of the wall directly opposite me, and jumped. I caught the top edge of the concrete wall and pulled myself onto it, ignoring the sharp stone fragments that cut into my hands and arms as I scrabbled my way up.
From the top of the wall, I could see the scope of the entire meadow. The blue haze of marijuana smoke hung like a cloud over everything. I thought about how you hardly noticed it when it was right around you. Then I looked back to where I had been two minutes ago.
Soldiers. Government soldiers with guns. I had known all along, from that knot in my stomach when I had first heard them. One of them- an officer, I guessed- was listening to a two-way radio; it buzzed and spat and fizzed, but the officer seemed to understand it. He smiled humorlessly and barked an order to a soldier who had been setting up a small cannon. The soldier's eyes darkened and he pulled the trigger of the gun, blasting a hole in the wall.
A small cloud of dust rose up as the bigger pieces of concrete fell back to earth. I felt a growing sense of dread, and looked back towards the meadow.
The soldiers had chosen their spot well; no one had noticed the explosion, since the rally, with its loud music, was centered on the other side of the expanse and the sound was muffled by a line of trees in front of us. The soldier had picked up the gun, and the rest of the squad shouldered their rifles.
Before I realized what was happening, I jumped off the wall and ran back to the rally as fast as I could go. I looked over my shoulder, completely terrified, and saw a soldier point after with one long finger. Ten helmeted heads turned to watch as I ran for my life to warn my friends.
I hadn't realized how far away from the crowd I had walked. It seemed like the sun had risen and set by the time I was within shouting distance of anyone.
"Soldiers!" I panted, out of breath, as I stopped in the middle of a curious crowd. "They're here! With guns…they…blasted a hole…in the wall…." Some people looked confused, some looked slightly worried. No one's expression really showed fear or concern. Then I pointed back the way I had come.
The soldiers were marching across the lawn in formation, dark green visors covering their faces, identical camouflage uniforms making them look like they should have been fighting a war in the jungle. Their heavy boots rose and fell in unison, making a noise that could be heard clearly, even from a distance. They carried their rifles in both hands, with the muzzles pointing up at the sky.
People ran then. They grabbed their girlfriends or boyfriends, their blankets and hats, and ran for the exit at 42nd Street. The entire lawn was a whirl of color as people warned those next to them, who in turn fled the scene, informing those they passed. Too soon, though, the soldiers were there. They reached the middle of the lawn, lowered their guns, and opened fire. Some fell immediately, and I felt my stomach shift a little.
I didn't see Merrim or Lightly. Usually, it was the other way around, but now I actually looked and couldn't find them. I scanned the crowd for Lightly's blond hair, or Merrim's dark hair…but a lot of people look the same if all you can see is their hair and their back. I was sorry then that Merrim and I hadn't stayed together longer – I've heard that sometimes lovers can sense when the other person is nearby. I would have sold my soul for that ability right then.
I guess it was pure luck if you managed to avoid the bullets. I don't think they saw me, because I was on the fringe of the crowd, searching for my friends. The soldiers were shooting into the middle of the masses.
Most people made it to the exit and ran off down the street, holding each other by the hand as they ran. But others weren't quite so lucky. A girl near me fell, crying out as she collapsed to the ground. The bullet hit her in the back, and the red blood spread slowly over her embroidered cloak as she lay on the ground; I had to fight to keep the contents of my stomach in place. Tears running down my face, I asked a boy who was passing if he had seen Merrim or Lightly. He was crying too, and didn't hear me. He kept running, but only made it a few more steps. I was still calling after him as he was hit, and the irony of that was too much for my stomach. I emptied my stomach behind a bush, and still felt sick. Somehow, being sick alone made me more desperate, and I plunged into the crowd, determined to find my friends even if it meant getting shot.
Happily for me, it didn't. At that moment, Merrim stumbled towards me. I saw him and shouted happily. I felt like my world had been taken away and then returned, unexpectedly, to me.
"Merrim!" I called, half-sobbing. He looked up and threw himself at me, nestling his head in the hollow at the base of my neck and twining his arms around my neck.
"Shh…don't worry, we'll be okay," I told him. Even now though, people were being shot or trampled down. The soldiers kept firing, stopping every now and then to reload. We had to leave.
I tugged Merrim's arms off of my neck. "C'mon, man, we have to get out of here. Where're the others? Where's Lightly?…" I looked over his shoulder to see if he was there.
Merrim spoke for the first time. He reached up and pulled my head back towards him, so I couldn't look anywhere else. "Don't look for them, Penn," he said, kissing me desperately. "Please don't look. They're fine…."
Something about him made me nervous. I grabbed both of his wrists and held him about six inches away.
"Merrim, what's going on?" I asked fearfully. I backed up until we were under the cover of the bushes. "What happened?" He wouldn't answer.
"Damn it, Merrim! What fucking happened?" He looked up at me, wide-eyed. His mouth formed words, but no sound came out. Then he looked down again. I could see tears forming under his eyelashes. He glanced over his shoulder to the dwindling group of people, never raising his eyes to my height.
"They're back there, Penn."
"Why? What are they doing there? C'mon, we'll go find them and get out of here." I put an arm around his waist, but he threw it off.
Stepping back hesitantly, he looked at me sadly.
"They can't…come home with us," he said slowly. And I finally understood.
No. No. Not to me, this wasn't happening, not to me.
"Not Lightly," I said, like a little kid. "They can't have him." I started to cry. Merrim pulled me gently towards his chest and smoothed down my hair as I wept on his shoulder.
We stayed in the park for most of that night. The soldiers went away, but we were too afraid to come out into the open until it was dark, partly because I wanted to remember Lightly – and Eagle, even though I knew her for no more than an hour – as he was alive…not lying on the ground, shot for no reason. I didn't want to be afraid that I would see him.
So we waited for nightfall, and fell asleep while we waited. I woke up in Merrim's arms, my head resting on his chest, where his shirt was still damp from my tears. I cried again as I remembered what had happened, but I couldn't deny that he was dead anymore.
Dead. The full meaning hit me that morning. I had never thought about it before. It seemed so…unreal. I've heard that everyone who goes through the death of someone close to them feels like that. I had never thought about the possibility of life without one of my friends.
But I dried my eyes, and woke Merrim with a slow kiss along his jaw. His eyes fluttered open and he met my mouth halfway.
When he broke the kiss off, I lay back on the ground and pulled him down with me. Merrim dragged his fingers over my chest as I took a deep breath, trying to find the words for what I wanted to ask him.
"I want to find him before we go," I said quietly.
He abruptly stopped tracing the bones in my neck and looked at me doubtfully.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "I thought you didn't…"
"I do."
He smiled sadly and got up, pulling me to my feet. I looked at him for a second, before softly kissing his lips. He smiled as I pulled back, and ran a hand through my hair, gently tucking a strand of it back behind my ear.
We walked, holding hands, to the middle of the field.