Shadow : Part 2

Chapter Four

The Questions

Three questions cycled ceaselessly through Nathan’s mind as he stared at his computer monitor: What is Russell going to say to me when he gets here? Is he still coming? The third question was even more challenging: What am I going to do about Blake?
Nathan’s brain kept traveling back hours prior, he and Blake in his bedroom, kissing and touching, Blake’s mouth and tongue in places on Nathan’s body they should not have been. Nathan tried to forget the immense pleasure Blake gave him, but it did not work. He also failed at attempting to quit imagining what would have happened if he allowed Blake to continue on the course he was going so quickly and skillfully.

I fucked things up, Nathan thought bitterly.

Nathan would have been lying to himself if he said that he had not anticipated something like this happening between him and Blake. He had tried to prolong it as much as possible.

“What are you thinking about over there?”

Nathan turned his head in the direction of his coworker, Ashley. She observed him with puzzled interest. “Huh?”

Ashley played with her ponytail and smacked her gum like she was still in the seventh grade. “You look hella stuck on something.”

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Hell no, don’t give me that ‘don’t worry about it’ shit,” Ashley said, hopping off her stool. She headed over to Nathan’s window. “I know when something’s bothering you. And I wanna know.”

Thankfully there were no customers in the bank to hear Ashley’s loud, frank remarks. There were only two personal bankers on the platform side. Their attention remained consumed with checking their emails on their computers and whatever other menial tasks they were performing to appear busy. For a Thursday morning right before noon, traffic was unusually slow. Nathan probably helped fewer than ten people since the doors opened at nine o’ clock.

“Something happened between me and my roommate,” Nathan admitted.
Ashley’s immaculately plucked eyebrows raised in surprise. “The short one with the nice ass or the tall, chocolate sexy motherfucker?”

Both Blake and Justin had been in the branch several times to pick Nathan up after work. Nathan felt uncomfortable with Ashley’s reference to Blake as the ‘tall, chocolate sexy motherfucker’ even though the description matched perfectly. “The second one you said,” Nathan answered.

A wide smile spread across Ashley’s face. “So when you say ‘something’, do you mean…?” Ashley balled her hand into a fist and started rapidly moving it to and away from her mouth. “Or some other shit?”

Flashes of embarrassment hit Nathan. “Um, we shouldn’t be talking about this at work, especially out in the open.”
Ashley scoffed and glanced around the small, mostly empty branch. “Nobody’s here but us.”

“Still, I don’t want all my business out there,” Nathan countered.

“Whatever,” Ashley said, rolling her eyes. She headed back over to her stool and plopped down. “So how was it?”

“Didn’t I just say I don’t wanna talk about it?”

“Bullshit. You know damn well you wanna talk about it. Why else would you have that dumb look on your face?”
Now Nathan rolled his eyes. She was partly right. A tiny fraction of him did want to talk about what happened with Blake. Although he preferred not to talk to Ashley about it, despite her being the closest thing Nathan had to a friend other than Blake and Justin.
Originally, Nathan planned on waiting until he got home and discuss the matter with Justin. Yet he figured by now that Blake most likely already divulged the details to him.

Nathan was saved from having to speak to Ashley, as a customer walked into the bank. Nathan recognized him immediately, Daniel Thorn, his creative writing teacher from the nearby community college. He was tall, in his early forties, with very thinly cropped grayish-black hair, a neatly groomed beard shadowing his box-shaped jaw, and intelligent amber-colored eyes. He strolled in wearing a pair of loose fitting navy blue sweatpants and a matching colored sweatshirt with a Cal Berkeley insignia on it.

“I’ll help you over here, Mr. Thorn,” Nathan called, perhaps a little bit too eagerly.

Mr. Thorn headed straight to Nathan’s teller window, passing right by Ashley, who was too busy admiring her pink fingernails to even notice. He smiled as he approached. “Morning, Nathan,” he said very cordially. “How’s your day going so far?”
Nathan had been taking Daniel Thorn’s class for only two weeks, since the spring semester started. It only met once a week on Monday evenings for three hours, which for Nathan was not long enough. The class could have been five hours and still Nathan would have felt like it could have been longer.

From the age of thirteen, Nathan always dreamed of being a novelist and poet. In his middle and early high school years, he had filled dozens of notebooks and journals with stories and poems, only to have the majority of them ridiculed and destroyed by his sadistic older brother, Caleb. Five years passed since Nathan picked up a pen to write anything other than school-assigned essays. He joined Daniel Thorn’s class as a way of reinvigorating his creative spirit, as well as finding a more therapeutic way of purging his melancholy.
Also, Nathan really enjoyed Mr. Thorn himself. He was one of the best instructors and one of the most intelligent men Nathan had encountered in a long time. In class, Nathan loved hearing him talk about anything, from the favorite books he read, to the ideas of books he planned to write. His mature good-looks only enhanced his appeal to Nathan.

“Good so far,” Nathan answered, putting an emphasis on those last two words. “How about you?”
Mr. Thorn shrugged and smiled. He had great teeth, Nathan noticed. Nathan usually sat in the back of class, mostly seeing Mr. Thorn from a distance. Up close, Nathan could fully appreciate his looks.
As Nathan processed Mr. Thorn’s transaction, there was silence, except for Nathan’s fingers rapidly typing on the keyboard. He glanced over to see Ashley sending a text message on her cell phone. When he returned his attention to Mr. Thorn, Nathan saw that he was still smiling at him. There was enough quiet for Nathan to ‘accidentally’ hone in on his thoughts: He looks really good when he’s dressed up, he heard Mr. Thorn express mentally.
Nathan’s heart skipped a beat or two. Now the challenge was to pretend he did not hear what he heard. He sped through the rest of the transaction, barely able to concentrate as he counted out Mr. Thorn’s cash. Afterwards, he smiled awkwardly and said, “Is there anything else I can do to you—I mean, for you, today, Mr. Thorn?”

Mr. Thorn took the money from the counter, still wearing his gorgeous grin. “No, that will be all today, Nathan…and you can call me Daniel.”

Ashley looked up from her cell phone for a split second at Daniel and then continued what she was doing, a thin smile slipping across her mouth.

“See you on Monday,” Daniel said and walked off.

“Yeah, see you on Monday.”

Ashley waited until Daniel was fully out of the bank before she spoke. “So are you sucking his dick too?”
Nathan thought he would die of mortification. “I’m not sucking anyone’s dick,” he whispered angrily, hoping that the two bankers on the other side of the bank had not heard, although with Ashley’s loud voice, that would have been impossible.

“I thought you said you gave your roommate a blowjob this morning,” Ashley stated.

“I didn’t suck anybody’s dick this morning!” Nathan yelled, his voice bellowing through the branch. Both bankers stopped typing on their computers and gawked at him, as if wondering if they heard correctly.

“Well, damn! Don’t get all mad at me,” Ashley said. “I’m just trying to help.”

Nathan was about to ask, “Help with what?” but decided not to. Trying to rationalize with Ashley was like trying to reason with an embryo, unnecessary and impossible.

Time dragged. Between customers, Nathan checked his cell phone to see if he had received any messages from either Blake or Russell. He had not. While he did not really expect to hear from Russell, he figured Blake would have called him by now…or at least send a text. Maybe he’s waiting for me to say something first, he considered.
While that may have been true, Nathan did not see it as his obligation to call Blake first. It had been Blake’s decision to overstep the boundaries of their friendship, not his. Nathan was glad he stopped it before it went even further, yet he still wondered what would have happened if he let himself surrender completely to Blake.

By one thirty in the afternoon, the time came for Nathan to take his lunch. The evening tellers scheduled for that day, Adam and Megan had already set up their stations.

“I’ll be in the break room if you guys need approvals or customer service,” Nathan told them as he stepped away from his teller window.

“Yeah, I’m sure we’re gonna need you with this big ass rush of people,” Ashley mentioned, gesturing at the empty platform. “We might not make it without you.”
Although he wanted to be annoyed with her, Nathan could not help but to chuckle a little. He to their small, quiet break room and grabbed his bag lunch from the refrigerator. He sat on the break room’s tattered couch, eating his turkey sandwich in cold silence. Nathan suddenly felt lonelier than he did in a long time.

Since entering adolescence, Nathan always found it difficult to form and maintain friendships and relationships for various reasons. His family consisted only of his father and his brother, Caleb; they were two people who practiced solitude as if were an art. Nathan spent most of his early years shut in the house, not socializing with the kids in his neighborhood, because his father did not want his sons to be consumed by the stupidity and mediocrity of other children. At school, Nathan was a straight A student as his father insisted he should be. At recess and lunch breaks, he would spend his time in the library reading books, mostly on the occult, science fiction, and other paranormal subjects.

Nathan’s peers considered him weird and stuck up, and for the most part, he did nothing to disprove their opinions of him. While he did not necessarily think of himself as better than his classmates, he knew there were things about himself—about his family—that were significantly different from other people. He also knew these things would make it almost impractical for him to have ‘normal’ relationships.

During his eighth year in middle school, Nathan discovered he could listen to other’s thoughts. Initially, when he would hear these random thoughts in class, he thought it was just people whispering to each other or directly at him, until he saw that their lips were not moving, or if they were talking, the things they said internally rarely coincided with what they were saying externally. It took a long time for Nathan to be able to control his abilities. Nathan never shared with this with Caleb or his father, even though he knew they possessed even more powerful capabilities than him.

It would take another two years of harboring this secret, along with another secret, his attraction to other boys, before Nathan would meet Robert Blake Coleman, someone else who shared and struggled with the same secrets.

Upon meeting in their sophomore year of high school, Nathan felt an instant affinity toward Blake. Although Nathan would have been classified as the odd, quiet nerd and Blake the hot, unattainable jock, who despite his young age, had maturity and intelligence, making him more different than his other classmates. They formed a connection that lasted throughout the duration of high school.
At the time, Nathan believed that Blake would be his first boyfriend. Things did not go as Nathan hoped, however. Blake ended up going to USC after graduation after getting a football scholarship, while Nathan stayed in the Bay Area and attended his freshman year of college at San Francisco State. Nathan and Blake continued to talk, despite their distance, by phone and also by telepathy. Yet Blake’s physical absence devastated Nathan. His first year of college had been filled with bleak loneliness, until one day in his second semester, when he met Russell Moore.

The door to the break room opened and Ashley stuck her head inside. “Nathan, come out here.”

“What’s up?”

“Some dude is here to see you. He looks like a sexier version of Mr. Clean.”

Russell.

Nathan’s heart palpitated. He slowly rose from the couch, taking a last bite from his sandwich, which he had barely eaten and followed Ashley out. With every step that he took, Nathan felt a dull throb at the back of his head, much like he had the night before. He wanted to turn around and run back to the break room and stay there until Russell left. So many months had passed since their last face to face encounter. Nathan thought he was ready to see Russell again, but the way he struggled to breathe told him otherwise.
Just breathe and calm down. Nathan whispered to himself. Try to act normal.

Inhaling deeply, Nathan stepped out to the service platform. He saw Adam and Megan watching him intently as he emerged. Nathan’s eyes drifted away from them and Nathan saw Russell, standing on the other side of the teller windows, watching him.
Nathan froze. He gawked back at Russell, not sure of what to do or say. He figured Russell felt the exact same way. Russell still looked the exact same: His hair was shaved nearly bald and he had a bit of stubble on his hard, square-shaped jaw. He dressed casually in a black t-shirt that still managed to show how muscular his arms and chest were without being too extreme, and a pair of loose fitting jeans. Really, the only thing about him that appeared different was the gloom in his dark, seductive eyes. Nathan got the impression that Russell was trying his best to mask his misery, but could not succeed

Momentarily, Nathan forgot his coworkers were in the same room as him. The only tangible thing in his surroundings was Russell.

“Hey, Nate,” Russell finally said.

Once Nathan remembered how to speak, he responded, “Hey.”

“Can I speak to you outside for a minute?” Russell asked. Nathan heard the slight quiver in his voice. He knew Russell was just as nervous talking to him privately as Nathan.

“Okay.”

Nathan headed out toward the lobby where Russell waited. He fought to maintain relaxation as he and Russell headed out the bank. He felt his coworkers’ eyes trailing him as they walked out of the door. Nathan knew they would start gossiping as soon as he was out of earshot.

Outside, the air was slightly crisp and windy; a thick layer of gray clouds blocked the sun. Nathan followed Russell into the parking lot.

“Where are we going?” Nathan asked.

Russell stopped. “Uh, I thought we could talk a little bit in my car…if that’s cool with you.”

His car.

Nathan searched for it amongst the myriad of cars in the expansive, plaza parking lot and eventually his eyes settled on Russell’s burnt orange Dodge Charger. It looked just as polished and beautiful as Nathan remembered it. He had a lot of memories of being in that car, some of them good, and some he wished he could forget.

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Nathan replied.

Nathan did not know if it was the temperature or his nerves that made him shiver.

Russell unlocked the car and they both got inside. Even though it was much warmer inside of the car, Nathan felt just as cold, if not colder than before.

They sat there for a few minutes in silence staring out the windshield, watching customers walk to and away from the shopping plaza. It was quiet enough for Nathan to penetrate Russell’s mind and hear his thoughts, but Nathan chose against it.
Throughout the course of their relationship, Nathan made significant efforts not to use his ability to extort secrets from Russell. It was only during the last month before Russell broke up with him, that Nathan used his ability as a method of figuring out why Russell seemed so emotionally withdrawn toward him. In those final weeks, he barely thought of Nathan at all. His thoughts had been mainly consumed with Andrew Dominguez.

“So how have you been?” Russell asked.

Nathan inhaled, breathing in Russell’s familiar masculine body scent. That smell triggered a series of memories in Nathan’s mind. He remembered the way they used to kiss, right there in the car after their dates; the way Russell used to kiss the back of Nathan’s neck and whisper in his ear when they were having sex, and Nathan did not want to take a shower, because he wanted that scent to remain on his skin as long as possible. He forced those recollections out of his brain and shrugged.

“I’ve been cool, I guess…” Nathan did not have to ask the same question in return, because he already knew the answer. He could feel the distress radiating from Russell as if it were his own agony.

“That’s good,” Russell commented. He paused momentarily. “You look good.”

“…So do you.”

Russell chuckled, but there was no mirth behind his smile. “You don’t gotta say that. I know I look like shit right now.”
Nathan wanted to tell Russell that despite his apparent agony, he still looked gorgeous. But he knew they were not there to discuss each others’ appearances. They were there to discuss a disappearance. From what Nathan derived from the situation, he would have to be the one to initiate the conversation about Andrew. Nathan knew Russell felt too awkward to even mention his name in front of Nathan’s presence.

“So how long has he been gone?” Nathan asked.

Russell exhaled heavily. The car became engulfed with his sadness. “Wednesday morning. Early morning. I got back home around two o’ clock that morning. He was already gone. But I had talked to him, like fifteen minutes before.”

Nathan studied Russell’s handsome profile and did not respond right away. He searched for the right questions, but he knew everything he said would come out forced and unintelligent. “Have you tried calling him?”

“His cell phone is still at the apartment,” Russell replied. “His car is still parked in the garage. I called his job and they said he didn’t show up or call in either.”

Nathan’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “Maybe he went to go visit a friend…or maybe his family.”

“Drew doesn’t got family in the Bay Area,” Russell stated. “And he doesn’t got friends he would need to go visit at two in the morning. Besides, he was waiting for me to come home…he always waits for me to come home.”

Jealousy wrapped itself around Nathan’s heart like barbed wire. He knew he should not have felt that way, but he could not help it.

“Somebody took him,” Russell said starkly. “I know it.”

Russell explained to Nathan the events that occurred when he returned home from work and saw the old, ratty red Toyota and its invisible driver driving away from his complex. When he finished with his story, Russell turned and looked at Nathan with those arresting dark brown eyes, which before used to fill Nathan with outbreaks of happiness whenever Russell looked at him, now made Nathan feel somber and icy inside.

“You’re saying you couldn’t see the driver?” Nathan asked.

“Yeah, but what I’m really saying, is that there wasn’t a driver at all. The car was like, driving itself or some shit.”
Nathan almost wanted to say: “That doesn’t sound possible”, but he stopped himself. He of all people knew that although a lot of weird, non-easily explained circumstances were improbable, that did not necessarily mean they were impossible.

And this is why Russell spoke to him about this situation instead of the police or anyone else. Russell was aware of Nathan’s expansive knowledge of the paranormal and other psychic phenomena. Nathan always wondered if his candor toward Russell about his special talents had been a major component in the demise of their relationship. Undoubtedly it had been. There was no way to sustain an intimate connection with someone who was normal, and the other abnormal.

“You don’t believe me do you?” Russell asked. Nathan heard an edge of anger in his husky voice.

“It’s not that,” Nathan replied. “It’s just that you might be making connections that might not be there.”
Russell put both of his hands on the steering wheel and squeezed, almost as if were about to pry it off. “I think Drew was in that car I saw the other night. I felt something hella strange about it. If I had just followed my instincts and went after that car…” Russell stopped briefly. “I didn’t believe in strange shit like this until I met you, Nate. I still don’t wanna believe it. but when I walked into my apartment the other night, I felt this energy…it was something like I never before. It was like an evil spirit or some shit…I don’t know…what I do know, is that Drew disappearing, and then me seeing that car…that shit is connected somehow. I don’t know how it is, but it is. And that’s why I need your help, Nate.

“If I tell this shit to the police, they’ll think I’m on drugs or something. Basically, you’re the only one—” Russell stopped speaking and closed his eyes. Nathan knew he wanted to cry, but he did not want Nathan to see it. In all the time they knew each other, Russell had rarely allowed Nathan to see that vulnerable side of him. It angered Nathan that this other boy could draw this much emotion out of him and not himself.

“You want me to help you find out what happened to him.” Nathan said softly.

Shrugging, Russell replied, “I really don’t know, Nate. Maybe if you could just come by the apartment and…” He covered his face with his hands and kept them there.

Nathan touched Russell’s broad shoulder. “It’s okay.” There was nothing else better to say that he could think of. “I’ll help you…but I still think you should talk to the police about it. You don’t have to tell them every single thing you told me, but you should tell them something.”

Russell nodded his head and withdrew his hands away from his face. “Yeah, I will.” When he glanced at Nathan, his eyes were misty, but tears refused to fall. “I’m sorry to get you involved in all of this, Nate. I know I’m the last person you probably wanna hear from, let alone help.”

“That’s not true,” Nathan responded. “It’s good to hear from you. I just wish the circumstance was different.”
There was a slight moment of quiet, and Russell replied: Me too.

It took a few seconds for Nathan to realize that he Russell had said this in his mind and not aloud.

“When do you want me to come by?” Nathan asked.

Russell sighed. “What time are you off work today?”

“Six.”

“I don’t gotta be at work tonight until about ten,” Russell said. “Maybe I can swing back here after you get off and pick you up.”