Chapter Two
Nick Hardaway laid sideways on the king size bed. He was dressed in only a loos pair of blue boxer shorts. He was a tall man of 29, and his short blond hair was messy. His blue eyes were focused on a half full, looking at the clear liquid inside. He could see a withered statue looking straight back at him. The brown vines around the small cherub's face framed, but made the small concrete angel seem more menacing than it should have been. A younger man jumped on the bed behind him, disconnecting whatever psychic link Nick had made.
"You've ruined it," Nick said to the shirtless brunette behind him.
"What do you mean," The younger man asked while taking out a cigarette and lighting it.
"Nothing, darling," Nick said, his English accent was suave.
The younger man passed Nick the cigarette. He sat up next to the other.
"Danny, have any phone calls come in for me?" Nick asked, passing the cigarette back.
"No, where you expecting any?"
Nick looked at Danny and smiled. "Just asking."
Nick had only been in the states for a few years, and in that time, had been in and out of jobs. He met Danny by chance. Nick was working at a restaurant as a bus boy. Danny had come in with his then boyfriend. Their affair started shortly after. There was always a thought in the back of Nick's mind that maybe Danny would cheat on him like they did after they met. Did he feel bad about it? Maybe, but there wasn't anything he could have done about it now.
They had been together ever since, and Nick was happy. Even if he worked odd jobs, and never truly made that much money, Danny was always there for him. Although Danny was much younger than Nick (Nick being almost 7 years Danny's senior), Danny was very mature for a 23 year old. They could have very intelligent conversations about the goings on in the world. Nick loved talking about politics, and he and Danny could go on for hours about it.
"Nick, are you okay?" Danny asked him, shaking him.
Nick looked at his lover confused. "Why?"
"You just, like, stared off into space for a minute," Danny said, looking at Nick. "Did you see something?"
"There's something calling to me. I can feel it," He said, staring out of the partly opened window.
Nick walked down the run-down hallway of the apartment building in which he and Danny lived. He needed to go for a walk, clear his head. There were so much mixed messages coming into his head, so much so that Danny wouldn't even able to grasp. He knew something was coming, but what it could be escaped him. He put his hands in his old leather jacket. At one point, it was black, but now it had turned a mixture of black and brown. It was old, but it had good memories, and frankly he couldn't afford another one.
He stopped in his tracks, he could see it. Down by the highway, the old mansion stood. It had some sort of aura, but from this distance, he couldn't feel what aura it was. He felt as if it was looking at him. He scoffed at the idea, but from his experience, it wouldn't be too far off. He walked back home.
Nick went in to his job at 6:30 in the morning. Danny was still asleep when he left. He hated having to leave him that early and having to come home pretty late at night. Danny knew that he couldn't help it, and he had his own job anyway; but working 7 days a week almost every hour throughout the day, he really missed Danny. Times were hard, but they always made it through.
It was about 2:30 now, and Nick was stuck mopping the back room. His employers treated everyone like shit, but he got the brunt of it. Not only was he not American, but he was also gay. Not that his boss was homophobic, but he thought it wasn't manly. Although Nick towered over him, Nick wouldn't hurt a fly let alone his boss. He knew that if he just endured whatever they put him through, he'd get a paycheck.
"Hey ya, Nicky boy," The short man said to him. The man was wearing a rather abhorrent shade of green, and khaki pants.
"Hello, Mr. Gates. How are you today?" Nick said, not looking up from his work.
"Good, good. Hey, do you think you could clean to men's bathroom once you're done in here?" Mr. Gates asked him.
"Sure," Nick said.
"Thanks, big guy."
Mr. Gates walked away. Nick took out his phone, and waited. He knew a call was coming in, but he just didn't know when it was coming. Just then, it rang.
"Hello," Nick said.
"Mr. Hardaway, it's Joyce Reardon from Beaumont University-," Joyce said.
"You are calling about Rose Red, aren't you?" Nick asked.
"Why, yes."
"And you are wondering if I want to go on your little field trip aren't you?" Nick asked.
"Yes, I am."
"If you want to know, I am interested," Nick said looking around him.
"Good, can I have your confirmation on that?" Joyce asked.
"What's in it for me besides exploring a century old mansion?"
"$5,000; how does that sound?" Joyce asked.
"I guess I have no other choice, I'll go."
"Great, there's going to be an orientation at the college in 2 days, can I account on you being there?" Joyce said.
"You can."
Nick hung up the phone. He quickly put it away, and looked away to see if anyone had seen him. There was no one.
Cathy sat in her modest out fit in the pews of the overtly decorated cathedral. If one had to describe her, they would say she was a real church mouse. She wore a skirt that went all the way to her ankles, in a muted purple color. Her white shirt was buttoned up all the way to her neck, and she wore a muted green cardigan atop. She sat and prayed with her black Mary-janes touching at the toes.
She never married, and for a woman at the age of 56, her biological clock had already clicked away years ago. She was married to her faith, which was the most important thing in her life. She attended church almost every day, volunteered at events, hosted bible readings in her home. Again, a real church mouse.
She prayed for many things, like world peace, world hunger to be resolved, and mostly that the sinners find their way to God. She never wished any harm on anyone, even if she didn't agree with how they lived their life, she mostly just kept her mouth shut. It was 2016 for God's sake. In all her 56 years of living, there was never a hateful bone in her body.
"Ms. Kramer, how are you today?" The overly dressed priest asked her. He was a shorter man, and was balding. Cathy felt bad vibes from him.
"Good, Father. How are you?"
"I'm good today, Ms. Kramer. Say, were you going to volunteer this weekend at the choir rehearsal, we'd really love you there," He asked her.
She didn't want to go, and she didn't want to be alone with this man. "No, Father, I can't. I have some appointments that day." She lied, of course.
"Oh that's too bad," He said, walking away.
Cathy waited until the man left the room when she went for the door. She didn't trust him, and there had been rumors about him. Unspeakable things to do a child, especially in his position. She walked down the street to the bus stop, constantly looking back to see if she was being followed. She wasn't, of course, but that didn't stop her from feeling that she was. She never learned to drive, and never really had an interest in doing so. She was more interested in sticking to 'traditional' gender roles. She never worked, and the money she had from her parents' will has been run dry. She wasn't that desperate for cash, and she prayed that something, anything would come up.
Cathy sat at her old wooden table. Her apartment was small, but cozy. She sat looking down at a Bible, reading it for what would probably be the thousandth time. She was in the zone, reading Psalms 105; 1. She liked that verse, and she felt it resonated with her. Just then, her landline rang.
"Hello," Cathy said, holding the phone close.
"Hello Mrs. Kramer. It's Joyce Reardon from Beaumont University."
"Just call me Cathy, Ms. Reardon," She said shakenly.
"I was looking over the application you sent in, and was wondering if you would to come with us to-"
"Rose Red," Cathy said.
"Yes, there's $5,000 in it for you if you come with us."
"I'm an automatic writer, Ms. Reardon, I'm not sure what I can offer the group," She said, wrapping her finger around the phone cord.
"You have a marvelous power, Cathy, and it'd be an honor to have you along."
Cathy took a deep breath. "Sure, I'll go."
"Great, there's an orientation at the University in two days, I can't wait to see you there."
Cathy said goodbye, and hung up the phone. She closed her bible and took a deep breath. She was going to Rose Red.