Chapter 19

When I left, I promised to visit Arthur again in two days' time. I went back to my apartment, got something to eat, then later set out in my taxi again. While I drove up and down or hung around outside clubs and bars waiting for passengers, I thought about Arthur, and the night passed quickly in between working and dreaming about him getting out of the home.

I clocked off around five in the morning, exhausted, and went home to take my pills and get some sleep. For once I slept like the dead, sprawled on my fold-out bed with all my clothes and boots still on. When I opened my eyes, I didn't know what day or time it was, or even where I was. My mind was fuzzy from sleep, and I needed food and smokes, not necessarily in that order.

I pulled out my cigarettes and lit one without getting up, then realised I needed a piss, too. I carried on smoking while I took care of that, then made myself coffee, and some cheese sandwiches, made from cheap sliced bread and plastic cheese. The little slices of cheese in their clear film wraps reminded me of a time long ago in New York when I'd first tried them melted over apple pie in a diner. I'd ordered pie and coffee and asked for cream to go with the pie. It was the middle of the night when the twenty-four-hour diner was empty and awaiting delivery of supplies.

"I'm sorry, Travis, we're out of cream," Marnie, the waitress said. She knew my name—all the waitresses did. I was in there practically every night when I needed a caffeine hit.

"Okay." I thought for a moment. "Can you melt a slice of cheese over it?"

"Cheese?" Her eyebrows rose.

"Yeah. Why not?"

"You like that?"

I shrugged. "Don't know, but it's worth a try, right?"

"Well, you know you still have to pay for it, sweetie, even if you don't eat it."

I grinned and pulled out my money. "I'll pay now if it makes you feel any better."

"Put it away, Travis. Knowing you, you'll want three or four more coffee refills before you're done."

I smiled at the memory. It was one of the few good ones I had of New York, before everything went to hell.

I took a shower and put on some clean clothes, then counted out my money and stashed it in a metal box under the bed. I had almost fifty dollars so far, and I'd filled up the car again out of the night's takings. I shouldn't have any trouble making the first payment on the car if things continued like this, but I was still reluctant to spend much of the money in the meantime.

Before I started work again that evening, I bought some extra groceries and more cigarettes, including a couple of spare packs and a lighter that I planned to give Arthur, and I parted with a few extra dollars for a cheap alarm clock. The next afternoon I was to visit him again, and I didn't want to sleep all day and miss the chance.

That night as I waited for fares, I thought more about our situation. Would they really let him out? He'd seemed so completely screwed up and crazy when I met him, which had only been a few short weeks ago. Or was it months? I wasn't great at keeping track of things either. It hadn't been a long time, anyhow. It seemed only yesterday that Brian and Ray and I had been transported to Arkham. Now Ray was gone, and Brian and I were out fending for ourselves.

In a few hours I would see Arthur and find out how his appointment with Dr Marks went. I grinned as I thought about seeing him, and my heart quickened its pace. I hadn't felt like this about anyone before. I'd convinced myself at one time that Betsy was "the one" and that I only had to make her see it, but it had merely been infatuation. Nothing had happened between us. I hadn't even kissed her. Arthur was my first proper relationship, even though it was unconventional. We'd talked and kissed and touched, had meals together and gone for walks—all in the crazy house. What would it be like doing those things with him on the outside? Proper dates; freedom; sex without the worry of being caught.

"Stop it," I muttered as my dick stirred. I was in my cab outside a bar. The last thing I wanted was a hard-on with hours to go and no relief at hand. I snorted. "At hand" was right. My hand had been getting quite the workout lately.

When I finished working, I went home, ate, and took my pills. Exhaustion knocked me out again for a few hours, but I woke in the middle of the day without needing the alarm. My first thought was that Arthur would be expecting me soon, and I threw myself out of bed enthusiastically. Within an hour, I was on my way across town. Emotions I wasn't used to filled me—anticipation, excitement, slight fear. Why this last one? Perhaps because I still worried things would go wrong—that he wouldn't get better and they wouldn't let him out. Not for me, but for him. I knew how he longed to be free, now he'd been able to separate fantasy from reality, and realise there could be something out here for him.

I parked outside the home in the same place I had before and rang the bell. A different member of staff let me in and made me sign the book. Arthur was in his room and I made my way up there and knocked. He didn't answer and I tried again. I heard slow footsteps approaching the door, then a pause before it opened.

"Arthur. You okay?" My smile slid into a frown as I took in his haunted eyes and trembling mouth.

He nodded, trying to force his lips to smile, but they couldn't manage it. I slipped into the room and closed the door. He didn't hug me but moved away and sat on the edge of the bed. I wondered if something awful had happened—perhaps his meeting with Dr Marks upset him. Alternatively, it could be his usual depression pulling him down. He suffered a lot worse than me in that respect. I sat beside him and pulled the cigarettes and lighter out of my pocket.

"I brought these for you." I placed them in his hands.

"Thank you, Travis." He opened one of the packs and lit a cigarette. "Sorry, do you want one?" He offered them to me as an afterthought.

"No, I'm good. Is it a bad day?"

"I guess." He drew hard on the cigarette, tipped his head back, and blew the smoke out of his nose. I got up quickly and opened the window.

"Do you stay in here all the time?"

"No. I go to the dining room. There's a games room like there was at Arkham, but I prefer to stay here and read. I don't know anyone."

"You know Stephanie."

He shrugged. "She's always in her room, too."

"Ahh." I grinned.

"You can ask about it. My meeting." He glanced at me.

"I didn't know if you'd want to talk about it."

"If you ask me something and I don't want to talk about it, I'll say, "I don't want to talk about it." I'm okay, Travis. I wish they'd give me better medication, though. I feel bad all the time. Better than I used to, but still bad."

"I'm sorry. So, how was it with Dr Marks?"

"I talked about everything. All the things I did and the things I thought I did. I don't think I told you the last part, about what happened after I shot Murray Franklin on live TV. Well, you know what I mean. In my head. I'll tell you about it some other time. I'm all talked out."

"It was okay, though? What did Dr Marks say?"

"Not much. I don't know if they believe that I know it was all in my head, or if they think I'm just saying that so I can get out. I got upset a couple of times. I laughed so much I threw up."

"I'm sorry," I repeated. I reached for his hand. Initially, he withdrew, but after a moment he slid his hand into mine and laced our fingers together. Any thoughts I'd had of a repeat performance in the bathroom went out of my head, and my excitement diminished. He wasn't in the mood. I should have known that. Yesterday had been a big day. I'd known what he was planning to do, and rehashing all of that stuff in his head with the doc had to have been harder than telling me little bits of it at a time.

"I'm okay, Travis," he said again. "Tell me about what you've been doing."

"I've been working all night, both nights since I last saw you. I got plenty of fares. I think I'm doing well enough to make the payments on the car and buy the stuff I need. Do you remember in Arkham when I had cheese and pie and you tried it? I was thinking about that. The first time I had that was in my favourite diner in New York. I'd like to take you out for pie when you get out of here."

Arthur smiled a little. "I liked pie with cheese. Won't the waitress in the diner think we're weird?"

"Maybe, but that's their problem."

"Okay. Dr Marks didn't say anything about whether I'm getting better or not. That's no different from any other meeting I've had, though. Dr Kane was the same. They just make notes and ask questions. I don't find out until the next time what they think about what I said. They have to analyse the results of the meeting. It was exhausting this time." He continued talking about it, even though he'd said he didn't want to. I assumed he felt comfortable with me and wanted to share it after all. I just held his hand and listened. Eventually, he relaxed and talked about other things, but he didn't smile.

I stayed until it was time for Arthur to join the others for dinner. When I left, I gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He held onto me for a long moment.

"I'm sorry I'm not very good company today."

"It doesn't matter. You don't have to try to be any different for me. I have days like this, too, sometimes weeks of it, so I know how it is. I care about you, Arthur. You know that, right?"

"I like to think you do. Then sometimes I wonder why you bother with me. I will never be normal."

"Nobody's normal. I'm certainly not. We're all different. I like you as you are, okay? I like you a lot. A real lot."

"I like you, too," he whispered. "Thank you, Travis. Thank you for not forgetting about me."

"That's never gonna happen." I shot him a grin. "When I'm not here, I'm always thinking about you. Remember that."

"Will you come see me tomorrow?"

"Sure, of course I will. It might be a little later. I should probably try to sleep until two."

"That's all right. If I only get to see you for five minutes, it will be worth it. I'll be better tomorrow."

Arthur wasn't better the next day, but he did manage to smile once or twice. The day after that he had another appointment with Dr Marks, and I had to go to the hospital for my own meeting. We didn't see each other that day, but the next afternoon he was more cheerful.

It went like that over the next few weeks. Sometimes he was so down he could barely talk; other times he was so eager to see me, he'd yank the door open the moment I knocked, and we'd spend most of our time together in his bathroom, jerking each other off and showering together. I had my own bad days, and occasionally it was too hard for me to go to see him. I always called, just to say, "I'm thinking about you, but I can't talk today," and he got it. Having someone who knew exactly how it felt was something I'd never had either.

I got into a routine with my taxi, and found I could easily make the payments required, leaving myself as much as a couple of hundred dollars a week spare on some occasions. I bought myself a couple of nicer shirts and a jacket, and a pair of cowboy boots. I'd always had cowboy boots in New York, and I never knew what happened to my old pair.

I bought gifts for Arthur, too. I always took him cigarettes, and once I took a shop bought apple pie and some cheese, and we ate it in his room. It wasn't so good with the cheese unmelted, but it was still tasty. One time I bought a shirt for Arthur—a green one with a pattern in the fabric. He liked green. When I gave it to him, he told me it was exactly like one he dreamed he had. He'd seen it in a store window and imagined he walked in and bought it, then wore it on the Murray Franklin show. He put on the one I gave him right away, and the colour made his green eyes turn the colour of moss.

"You shouldn't keep buying me things," he said later, as much as he loved the shirt. "I can't give you gifts, and I feel guilty."

"You give me a gift every time you smile at me," I replied, aware that I sounded as corny as a chick flick.

And then, one day he gave me a gift I wondered if I would ever get. I'd stopped thinking about it too much, because I didn't want to hope and be disappointed. The doctors were pleased with his progress, he told me, but he didn't seem to think things would change any time soon. I arrived to see him as usual and found him wearing the green shirt and a pair of black pants.

"You look nice." I smiled, and he moved close to give me an enthusiastic kiss in greeting.

"I feel nice. We're going out. Come on." He grabbed a jacket and ushered me out of his room again.

"Out? You mean in the yard?"

"No, in town. I went out yesterday with Stephanie for a practise. I didn't tell you on the phone; I wanted to surprise you." He paused in the lobby to let Charlotte know we were on the way out, then led me out of the building. "I'm getting better. I'm getting out."