Trapped in Paradise
“Brian, Gardner wants you in his office. Now,” Cynthia’s voice came over his intercom relaying the message.
Pressing the intercom, “I’m a little busy right now. Tell him to give me fifteen minutes.” Going back to the task at hand, Brian’s hand whipped over the mouse and continued on with his presentation for Vanguard’s latest client, The Skin Firm. The mock ups were due to the graphics department thirty minutes ago and Brian was already nursing a major hangover. Remembering his sordid night out last night to the baths- the only night out in weeks it seemed…Why do I do this to myself? Fucking Anita…By the time I’m finished with this shit, I’ll need firmer skin.
Hearing the knock and barely registering Cynthia moving closer to his desk, “I thought I told you no interruptions!”
“Sorry but, Gardner says fifteen minutes is too long. He wants you in there now,” Cynthia replied and stood next to Brian as he refused to look at her.
“What is the problem?” Brian asked exasperated, finally acknowledging her presence.
“No idea, but whatever it is…it must be big. He was his usual rude self…not that you’d notice,” Cynthia snarked and took a seat.
“You know, you’re supposed to keep your ear to the doors…you’re slipping,” Brian replied and closed down the program, shutting his notebook. His phone ringing now- his private line, Brian smirked at Cynthia as he retrieved the receiver. “Yes Gardner?”
Whatever the cause, Brian held the phone away from his ear to shield his eardrums from Gardner’s tirade. As he replaced the phone in its cradle, a resounding “Right Fucking Now!” was heard. Brian rose from his desk, rolled his eyes at Cynthia, silencing her with his hand and gathered his suit jacket.
“Wow. First time I’ve ever seen you jump. Nice to know it can happen. Have fun…I’m going to lunch,” Cynthia smiled and rose to leave.
“Not so fucking fast. You think it’s funny? You’re not going anywhere. Wait for me to come back…who knows I might need you in there to take dictation or whatever the fuck,” Brian smirked.
“Wait a minute Brian…it’s my lunch hour. You can’t make me sit here and wait for you! That’s not fair!” Cynthia protested.
“Yeah, I can. Who’s laughing now? Oh, that’s right. Me,” he cackled and walked down the hall to Gardner’s office.
Walking upon Margaret, Gardner’s secretary, Brian pointed to the office door, which was closed. Margaret put whomever she was speaking to on hold and replied, “Go on in Mr. Kinney.”
As Brian walked into the lion’s den, Gardner was on the phone. Brian stood in front of the desk, hands in pockets, waiting. Being motioned to sit down, he sat begrudgingly. As he listened to the conversation he gathered that there was a problem with a client. Said client seemed to be upset with the representation and advertising mockups Vanguard had provided. Brian smirked as he listened to Gardner try to placate and then kiss the client’s ass, apologizing and promising to correct any problems immediately.
“Yes Mr. Muldoon. I understand. We’ll make this right for you. Of course, Vanguard stands by its reputation. You will reap the benefits you receive from our strategy. My partner, Mr. Kinney will be there tomorrow to go over this with you. My apologies for Mr. Smythe…he no longer works for Vanguard. Rest assured. Yes, thank you Mr. Muldoon. We’ll talk soon. Goodbye,” Gardner carried on and disconnected the call.
“Mr. Kinney will be there tomorrow? Well, let’s see Gardner…that’s great. Only, no I fucking won’t!” Brian gave Gardner his answer, since he wasn’t even asked.
Sitting back in his chair, pursing his lips, Gardner replied, “Brian. Be a dear boy and understand something. Yes, you will. You’re a partner and we need this client!”
“Smythe no longer works here? Since when?” Brian asked.
“Since right now. That reminds me…hold on.” Gardner buzzed Margaret, “Margaret, please call HR and tell them that Mr. Smythe is being terminated as of today. Grounds? He fucked up.” He smiled as he watched Brian cross his legs and unbutton his suit as he heard Smythe being dismissed.
“Now, getting back to Mr. Muldoon. This company, as you well know Brian or you should, is in dire need of Vanguard’s talents. Mainly yours. So, you will be flying to Alaska tonight,” Gardner replied and shoved the client’s folder towards Brian.
Reaching for the folder Brian asked, “What the fuck does…who the hell are they anyways? And, for the record…this was your baby. Not mine. Another one of the client’s you bring in and tell me nothing of.”
“Read the information Brian. Quickly. Have your girl make your arrangements. You’ll be there for a week,” Gardner replied and then picked up his phone to make a call.
Realizing that he was being dismissed, Brian reached over and pressed the button down
to disconnect the call. “A week? You’ve got to be joking! Alaska? Fuck you!”
“I’ll be taking over your client’s whilst you’re away Brian. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about,” Gardner smirked and stood.
“When I get back, we’re going to have a serious discussion about this. You can’t just send me out on these jaunts. I’m a partner and that needs to be considered! We’ve got great account execs who could do this shit!” Brian stood and snapped the folder up.
“We sent one of our best out there Brian. Hand picked by you, I seem to recall. Young Mr. Smythe it was and the client chased him off. We need you. I need you there, Brian. The client needs you,” Gardner replied as honestly as he could.
“Cut the needy routine, Gardner. We’re still talking about this when I get back. Where are they in Alaska? Juneau or Anchorage?” Brian questioned as he flipped open the file.
“Ah…Paradise. Paradise Valley, Alaska,” Gardner smiled and laughed.
Huffing, Brian exclaimed, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, right?”
Smiling, Gardner replied, “No dear boy. I kid you not. See you in a week. Really Brian…how bad can it be? It’s called Paradise? The cannery is in Yukatat and you’ll fly down with Mr. Muldoon to view the cannery and see what they’ve got there.”
They stood there, staring at each other for a few seconds. Brian was at his breaking point with Gardner. Their relationship ran hot and cold. Hot when the clients were coming in and cold when Gardner refused to notify Brian of new clients as well as times like these. “Is there anything else?” Gardner asked.
Brian retreated and stormed back to his office. Slamming the door, he threw his file on the desk and buzzed Cynthia. He failed to notice her filing her nails at her desk as she awaited his return but probably wouldn’t have cared at this very moment.
“You barked?”
“Get me on the late afternoon flight to Alaska…Paradise Valley, Alaska. Get me a car and the nearest hotel to…to, whoever the fuck they are. Here’s the file,” Brian replied and slid the file across the desk to Cynthia.
“Alaska?” Cynthia deadpanned.
“Are you deaf? Yes, Alaska,” Brian responded in kind.
“Uh, no. Not deaf…but a little shocked. Have you ever been to Alaska?” Cynthia inquired.
“So what, it’s cold. Pittsburgh is cold. Big deal…can’t be that big of a difference,” Brian replied and called Michael.
“Whatever you say boss,” Cynthia replied, smirking and went back out to her desk to make Brian’s travel arrangements while he made his call.
Hearing Michael answer, Brian steeled himself to hear the disappointment in his friend’s voice. It had been a while since the two of them had gone out together. Brian had made partner and Michael had found a partner, Ben. There just never seemed to be a time to hang out and reminisce, much less trick. Brian caught action when he could as the days of nights spent prowling on Liberty Avenue seemed long gone. Work had replaced sex as his hobby, so when he literally had to run out and fuck, he did.
“Hey Brian. About time you called. What time are we meeting up?” Michael inquired excitedly.
“Sorry Mikey, no can do. I’m on a flight to Alaska tonight. Gotta fix a fuck up with a client, As usual,” Brian replied.
“Come on Brian! Think of a better excuse,” Michael replied a little angrily.
“Michael, I’m not kidding but I wish that I were. I’ve got to go out there and make nice. Gardner just sprung it on me not fifteen minutes ago, so stifle the attitude,” Brian spat.
“Whatever. Nothing new. So, can you pencil me in for next quarter?” Michael laughed.
“You have no idea when next quarter is, do you? I’ll make it up, alright? I’m just busy and this is important apparently,” Brian replied and gripped his temple, trying to stave off the headache coming on.
“Yeah, alright. When will you be back?” Michael relented.
“Next week. I’ll call you when I know for sure. Take care of Buddha Boy,” Brian smiled.
“Whatever. Have a safe trip. Oh, be sure to tell me all about all the lumberjacks there! Maybe you’ll actually be able to ask one if they do indeed ‘jack off’! Though I’m sure you’ll be experiencing their live demonstrations,” Michael laughed.
Remembering his off joke to Michael about his time in Portland, Brian laughed and responded, “Maybe. Gotta go.”
Replacing the phone in its cradle, Brian packed up his briefcase, glancing at the desk clock- 1:30pm. “Cynthia?” he called, locking his desk. He picked and chose when to use the intercom and when to call out. Most of the other employees had gone for lunch, so it was safe to be a little unprofessional. Plus, he just didn’t have time for proprieties right now…he was on his way to BFE Alaska.
“Here you go. Here’s your itinerary. You’re on the 5pm to Juneau. After you land, you fly out on a smaller plane into Fairbanks and then rent a car to Paradise,” Cynthia had to stop herself from laughing at this point.
“What’s so goddamn funny?” Brian asked.
Rolling her eyes at the glare directed at her, Cynthia stifled her glee, “Nothing to you, but well, thinking of Brian Kinney in Alaska is hilariously funny.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” incredulously Brian questioned.
“Well, you do realize that the uniform of Alaska is flannel, do you not?” Cynthia smiled.
A grimace stretched over Brian’s features as visions of dreaded flannel danced in his head. Along with that, visions of big hulking men in flannel invaded and then his frown began to turn upside down.
Smiling, Brian replied, “There’s worse things than flannel Cynthia.”
Driving along the road, trying to listen to his GPS system direct him to his location, Brian cursed at the rain and fog. It was pouring and the fog was so thick you could cut it with a knife. It was constantly dark this time of year in Alaska and say what you want about darkness, but one needs sunlight. Never much of a nature buff, Brian was getting antsier by the minute being out here alone with God knows what and God knows where. That is, if there was a God. The town was so far out, in the middle of nowhere—away from any and everything. Cynthia had put him up in a Bed and Breakfast, recommended by Mr. Muldoon’s people. It was a few miles from Muldoon Market and Cannery Industries. He knew that he’d have to take Muldoon’s plane to the cannery, but that was planned later in the week. He wasn’t looking forward to the stench of fish or watching the operation. Something about fish in a can rubbed him wrong.
It was three in the morning and Brian was tired, hungry and getting angrier by the minute until he passed the sign reading Paradise Valley. The planes had been delayed from the weather and it didn’t seem to be letting up. He considered that he was lucky they even landed at all. The rain had begun to beat down on the SUV and the winding roads did nothing for Brian’s patience and nerves. Seeing a creature of magnitude jut out in front of him and lock eyes, Brian slammed on the breaks and steeled himself as the vehicle began hydroplaning and swerving. Instinct kicked in and he was forced to remember how to bring the vehicle back into his control, calling on photographic memory from age sixteen, goofing off in Driver’s Ed. In remembering, he flashed that he and Mikey had skipped the day of the movies that were played intending on scaring the youth of today into driving the recommended speed limit in hazardous road conditions. Pittsburgh weather could be treacherous, but add torrential rain, a hulking, hairy deer or antelope, whatever the fuck it was, and you’ve got trouble. Brian braced and closed his eyes as he watched in slow motion as the vehicle slammed sideways into a tree and bounced off, spinning again and again.
With the force of the vehicle slamming into the tree and the airbags deploying, Brian hung on for dear life and every muscle in his body clenched in knots. His head slammed into the headrest and the seat belt cut into his neck. The airbags shot into his chest and chin, burning his chin in the process, and slamming his head upward and to the side. His knee reared into the steering wheel and popped a joint out of place. Glass shattered from the passenger side in and he received some gashes on his face, neck and hands. Dazed and bleeding, Brian shook his head, wincing from the whiplash and gripped his temple, feeling the wetness of the blood flowing. Reaching up to adjust the rearview to assess the damage to his face, he felt a jab of pain in his ribs. Recoiling his arm, he graoned and exhaled a breath of air he’d been holding. His vision seemed blurry and as he looked out the cracked windshield, through the pounding rain he saw the behemoth creature that had caused his accident when he swerved to miss it. A hulking moose stood stock still, looking at him. A calf came out from the brush rushing to its mother’s side. The moose glanced around and bleat her farewell and/or assessment of the situation, and the two took off to the other side of the road.
“Jesus Christ!” Brian shouted in the confines of the vehicle. He leaned to his side and as gracefully as he could manage, due to the circumstances, unbuckled his seat belt. Grasping onto the door handle, he painfully used his shoulder to nudge it open. The front of the vehicle had crinkled and caused the door to jam. He could only imagine what the passenger side looked like as the inside seemed concave. He imagined he’d done a few donuts as the vehicle slammed into the tree a few times- head on and then sideways. Branches from the tree that he’d smashed into were inches from his face inside the shattered window. Opening the door, the inside light came on and the dinging sound of the alarm came crashing through the silence. He noticed the blood on his hands and the lump in his knee. Carefully he climbed out of the vehicle and felt the rain pelting down on him. In the pitch black of the middle of nowhere, Brian cursed and shook with panic and embarrassment. He’d nearly killed himself swerving to avoid hitting that moose. A fucking moose! Gardner was so going to get his ass kicked when Brian returned. In a matter of seconds, his suit was drenched and Brian scrambled as carefully as he could back into the jeep. His ribs were sore, assured he’d cracked or bruised a few, his neck ached and his knee hurt like hell. His legs felt like jelly along with the rest of his body and his head would not stop pounding. Closing the door, Brian reached for his cell phone and found the number to the Bed and Breakfast from his itinerary. Hoping he had signal reception out here, he whispered a ‘please, please’ as he dialed. Hearing the call go through, he waited as the phone rang and rang. Exasperated, he almost hung up until he heard a sleepy voice come on.
“Hello?” the soft voice came.
“Is this Paradise Bed and Breakfast?” Brian breathed. His vision was becoming increasingly blurry and he assumed he’d sustained a concussion in the wreck.
“Yes. Yes, it is. May I help you?” the voice intoned and the sound of ruffling bedcovers could be faintly heard.
“I’m a guest. I’ve had an accident,” Brian replied.
“Hang on please,” the voice responded in alarm.
While Brian waited, his eyelids became heavy and he tried to turn the ignition over, to alert himself. Any activity so as he wouldn’t fall asleep as he waited for help. The engine whined as it tried to turn over…flooded or completely fucked. Brian chose to imagine it completely fucked, just like his present situation. Inside him, he couldn’t help feeling helpless and it angered him. He’d already been tired, exhausted from the flight and the non-stop work he’d been doing, non-stop hours in the office, meeting with clients. The last thing he’d needed was some last minute emergency rescue with a piddly client Gardner assured him the firm had to keep. As far as Brian considered, if the executives that they employed weren’t up to snuff, fire their asses. Gardner had done just that…today with Smythe. Now, going out to salvage this account had turned messy. Messier than need be.
A voice came on, a much older, sturdier voice, “Hello? Sir? Are you there?”
“Yeah…barely,” the voice breaking through Brian’s haze.
“You had an accident? Are you hurt?” the man inquired.
“Yes. I need help…right now. I have no fucking idea where I am! I swerved to hit a moose and slammed into a tree. I’m bleeding!” Brian barked, with a last surge of energy.
“Are you coming from the airport? Is this Mr. Kinney?” the man questioned.
“Yeah…Kinney,” Brian rasped and passed out.
The man tried to ask Brian other questions, but got no reply. Handing the phone to his grandson, he told the young man, “Keep the phone open. Keep talking to him. I’m gonna go find him. This is the guest that was supposed to be here earlier, Mr. Kinney. His flight was delayed; Deidre from check in called me, when he departed. He got held up in Fairbanks.”
“Alright Alanpa. Be careful, it’s horrible out,” the man replied.
While he watched his grandfather grab his coat and fetch the handyman, the young man did as he was told. “Hello? Sir? My grandfather is on his way. Hang on.”
Brian was out cold as the rain and wind whipped around him. He dreamed of a soothing voice calming him. Telling him to hold on, that help was coming.
Brian awoke in a daze and shot up out of bed. Gripping his neck, he cried out in pain. As the pain in his neck throbbed, so did the pain in his chest, ribs and shoulder. The last thing he remembered was slamming into the tree and seeing the moose in the road. His head throbbed and he felt a tight binding around his upper torso and shoulder. As he raised his hand to his head, he noticed the bandages on his hand, faint traces of blood seeping through. The place he was in was dark. The bed he was in was comfortable and yet he felt cold. His body was shivering, but he expected it was from the dream that startled him. Hearing the door open, he made out a woman coming over to him, his vision enabled from the faint traces of moonlight shining in from the window.
“I see you’re awake Mr. Kinney. About time you woke up. Quite a bit of a mangling you took,” the woman soothed.
“Where the fuck am I?” Brian winced as he tried to swallow. His mouth was dry and every muscle ached. It hurt to blink as he adjusted his eyes to the light in the room and the light coming in from the hallway.
“Such a mouth on you! You have a fondness for that ‘F’ word, don’t you?” The old lady replied, hands on hip. “All we heard, ‘F’ this and ‘F’ that. I don’t want to know who this Gardner is that you’ve threatened to ‘F’ing kill.”
“Who are you? And, again, where am I?” Brian rolled his eyes. Not that his snark or eye rolling would get the right effect. This old woman seemed to have no patience for his antics.
“You’re in Paradise Valley. This is the B&B that is hosting you during your stay in our wonderful state of Alaska,” the woman replied as he checked Brian’s wrap and felt his forehead for fever. Poking him in the ribs, to see if he was still sore and to punish him for his foul mouth, she stifled a smirk as she watched his face grimace in pain.
“Jesus Fucking Christ! Watch it!” Brian yelled as the pain surged and he shot upright again. “Jesus…your name isn’t Annie is it?”
“Ha. Never been figured for someone out of a Stephen King novel. No, as a matter of fact, my name is Emma. Emma Muldoon, you nasty bugger and, if you use that foul language again, I’m gonna bandage up that nasty mouth of yours!” Emma spat and walked out of the room shaking her head.
“Hey! Hey! Where are you going?” Brian yelled to her retreating form. It was one thing to poke and prod but Brian had no idea what was going on, how long he’d been out or what the hell, about anything.
Turning around Emma replied, “I’m going to get you something to eat, Mr. Rudeness.” And with that, the woman exited the room and shut the door.
Brian looked around the room and took in his surroundings. He saw the rain still falling heavily through the panes of glass and watched the shadows it danced upon the walls. Slowly climbing out of bed, Brian reached over and turned on the lamp that sat on the nightstand. His cold feet hitting the cold hard wood floor, he saw his bags and briefcase in the corner. His clothes he was wearing were hung over a rocking chair on the other side of the room. Seeing a wardrobe, Brian painstakingly walked the distance to it and opened the door. Seeing his reflection in the mirror inside, he took in his busted lip, small burns on his chin from the damn airbag, cuts on his brow and neck, and a black eye. He looked down his body and saw the tight wrap around his stomach and chest and the wrap on his hand and knee. The woman had taken care of him, seen to his wounds and he’d practically cursed her out. The last time a woman tended his wounds, it was Joanie after Jack had done a fine job of tuning up his only son. As Joanie wound the gauze around Brian’s ribs, time after time, she’d repeated the same old lines, “You should know better Brian. He doesn’t mean it, he’s just stressed out with work. He didn’t mean it, but you had to push him didn’t you? You just had to push him.”
Shaking the memory from his mind, Brian heard a faint knock at the door. “Yes,” he replied to the knocking. Watching the door swing open, he saw a slight figure come in with a bundle of towels. “Mr. Kinney?”
Something about that voice seemed familiar. Familiar and calming. Realizing he was naked besides his underwear, Brian went into the bathroom and shut the door.
As the young man came into the room, hearing the guest’s reply, he kept his head down and placed the bundle of towels on the chifarrobe. Clearing his throat, “I brought you fresh towels, for your bath. Give the pipes a few minutes to warm, while you run your bath.”
Hearing no reply, he spoke again. “If it’s too cold in here, you can adjust the heater. It’s an old one…a Dearborn, there in the corner.” Waiting a second to see if he’d be replied to, and when he didn’t receive one, he called out again. “My grandmother is fixing you something to eat…she’ll be by in an hour.” As he moved to exit the room, the bathroom door slightly ajar, Brian on the other side of it, glimpsed him. “Thanks,” he replied.
Nodding, the man left. Brian stood there, staring at the door. He’d gotten a brief glimpse of the man- golden hair, slight build and a soft voice. He looked to be fifteen, at that. Thinking of why he so hastily retreated to the bathroom, Brian chalked it up to nerves and the unfamiliar surroundings. His only other guest had been the nasty, prodding old woman and he didn’t want to take his chances with the latest inquisitor. His body ached and his whole world had been thrown topsy-turvy.
Long gone were the days that he depended on anyone or felt captive…this experience thus far had shaken him. Moving into the room, he reached his bags and looked for his phone. Grabbing it and trying to turn it on, he realized the battery had run down. Rummaging through his stuff, he found his charger and went to plug it in. Knowing that in a few minutes or so, he’d be able to call Gardner and apprise him of the situation. He had no idea what time it was, let alone what day. It seemed like five minutes ago he’d been on a plane and then driving here. He knew that he was supposed to meet with Mr. Muldoon the next day but other than that, he had no idea. Looking at the walls, he noticed the artwork adorning them. Some landscapes and some abstracts. He favored the abstracts with the deep blues and bright oranges that lit them up. Gathering in more of the room, he noticed a clock and saw that it read three o’clock. PM or AM? No fucking idea.
Sitting down and gulping down the water that sat in a glass by his bed, Brian leaned back and closed his eyes. He’d grabbed a bottle of Tylenol, while searching for his charger. Taking three, he’d hoped that the pounding in his head would stop. Finally the pounding seemed to subside and he was lulled to sleep by the tapping of the rain against the windows.
A beeping was heard in the background. Reaching over to turn off the alarm that Brian thought was beeping, pain surged through his body from the ache in his neck and shoulder. “Goddammit!” he yelled. Wincing and groaning, he opened his eyes and spied his phone beeping, signaling its charged battery. Not knowing how long he’d slept, not even realizing he’d fallen asleep, he took note of the renewed pounding in his head. Slowly and carefully he climbed out of bed to retrieve his phone. Noticing the lack of bars signaling reception, he moved slowly through the room trying to find a vantage point. Near the window, he received four bars…and he dialed. A voice came on the line and he heard, “Brian.”
“Yeah, it’s me. Listen I,” Brian replied and was cut off.
“Brian, I know. The people from your hotel called. They called Cynthia on Wednesday and let us know that you were there and about your accident,” replied Gardner.
“Wednesday? What fucking day is it now? How long have I been here?” Brian demanded.
“It’s Saturday Brian. Evidently you’ve been out all this time. You suffered a concussion, among other things. A doctor was summoned and treated you there. Muldoon picked up the charges,” Gardner replied.
“I’ve been here knocked out all this time? Are you fucking serious?” Brian replied, his voice rising. He couldn’t believe he’d been there, asleep…knocked out rather, from his concussion. Why the fuck wasn’t he in the hospital if it was that serious?
Realizing it better to voice this audibly, “Why the fuck aren’t I in a hospital?”
“The owners came and found you after you called and brought you back to the hotel. It was too far to take you to the hospital at the time, not knowing your injuries. So, the town doctor came and checked you out, advised them what to do,” Gardner responded. Gardner seemed to know a lot about his situation, but the fact that he wasn’t here when his business partner was and injured to boot, wasn’t lost on him.
“This isn’t a hotel! Some old lady tried to kill me a few minutes ago and some boy brought me towels! Did you call Muldoon? What’s going on with that?” Brian asked.
Trying to calm the situation, “Mr. Muldoon is aware of your condition. We’ve been in contact. He said that he would meet with you when you were better or whatever we wanted. How are you feeling?”
“How am I feeling? Like hammered shit…that’s how I’m feeling. I take the flight from Hell. It’s late getting in, it’s a fucking torrential downpour, not to mention foggy and I almost kill myself trying not to hit a goddamn moose! A goddamn, motherfucking moose Gardner! So, I’m not feeling too great right now…alright?” Brian raged, pacing the room.
Not hearing anything in reply, Brian barked, “Are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here now. I lost you after the bit about the torrential downpour. Calm down Brian, calm down,” Gardner’s voice came through.
“When are you coming here?” Brian asked.
“Coming there? What do you mean?” Gardner hesitated and then replied.
Exasperated, Brian yelled into the phone, “I mean, when the fuck are you coming here to talk to Muldoon? I’m out of this fucking Swiss Family Robinson joint tomorrow or today, whichever comes first!”
“Brian. You’re not leaving. You’re staying put. When you’re better and able, then you will meet with Muldoon. That’s the plan. We’ve got work to do there…don’t forget that. I sent you there for a reason,” Gardner replied, trying to calm Brian down, but growing tired of his partner’s antics.
Huffing, Brian laughed and replied, “We? We’ve got work to do? Don’t you mean me? Who you give a rat fuck about, I can see. I almost got myself killed in a moose accident Gardner and all you care about is this piddly-ass client!” Brian almost found it ludicrous that he’d ever have occasion to tell someone that he’d been victim to a moose accident.
Gardner’s voice came breaking through, “Brian? Brian, are you there? You’re breaking up. I can’t hear you. Listen, get some rest and call me tomorrow. Things will look brighter then, I promise.”
Not knowing if Gardner truly couldn’t hear him or was gaffing him off, Brian yelled “Fuck You!” and ended the call. He went with Gardner gaffing him off. No, it won’t look brighter here tomorrow. It’s goddamn dark here all the time you asshole.
To try to calm his nerves, Brian decided on a bath. He’d noticed the large tub when he’d hid, not hid…well, practically hid, when the boy entered earlier. Gathering his toiletry bag and the bundle of towels, Brian went into the bathroom. Remembering the man’s voice telling him to let the water run for a while, he set the hot tap open. The bath was a shower too, but it had been remodeled to add on the shower nozzle and pipes. The tub was old, probably antique age, Brian gathered. Its claw feet sat upon the tile and the rounded edges, gave it massive size in the bathroom. He’d stayed in B&B’s before, but nothing quite like this one. He’d only seen the inside of his room, but he pictured the whole place an antiquity at best. There was something about the serene surroundings and the quietness of it all. The total absence of noise that calmed him and chilled him at the same time. Maybe it was that he’d watched too many horror movies or maybe he was just on edge.
What he really needed was a drink, but the bath and the steaming water would have to suffice for now. As the bathroom filled with steam, Brian plugged the tub and balanced the cold and hot water, setting the temperature he wanted. Unwrapping his bandages, he took in the deep abrasions on his face and hands and the blacks and blues his body had taken on. Sliding his underwear down his thighs and off he edged closer to the tub. He ached and was pained as made the careful climb in. Relishing the hot water flowing against his body, Brian took a wash cloth and submerged it. Placing the hot cloth on his face, he leaned his head back and placed his head against the rim of the tub as he arms and hands gripped the ledges of the tub. He was tall, approximately 6’3 and his body fit perfectly, albeit with his knees slightly bent. His knee that lodged into the steering wheel was the size of a grapefruit, but he was used to knee injuries. Suffering many from soccer in his youth, he knew that soaking and wrapping was the way to go. Maybe he’d ask for a heating pad when he finally left his room.
Relaxing into the steam and the sound of the running water, he heard a faint knock coming from the other room. Pulling the wash cloth from his face and leaning up slowly to stop the tap, he listened. Hearing the knock again he called out, “I’m in the bath.” He waited for an answer and then hearing no reply, he shook his head, replacing the wash cloth. As he began to lay back into the tub, he was jostled by a knock on the bathroom door. “I said, I’m in the bath!”
The door moved slightly open and the voice that he’d heard earlier came softly, “There’s a tray of food on the desk, if you’re hungry.”
“Well, I’m not. If I were, I’d let you know. Goodbye,” Brian replied. These people were persistent alright. You don’t go barging into the bathroom when you know someone’s in there. You knock, but you don’t come in.
“Sorry, I just-“ the man stammered.
Watching the door swinging shut again, rethinking his needs, he called out to the man, “Wait a second. I would like something to drink. Can you bring me a bottle of something…strong? Put it on my charge,” Brian asked.
The door stopped in motion and the voice blasted through, “You really shouldn’t have anything to drink in your condition. The doctor left pills for you and you’re due for one actually. My grandmother was giving them to you while you were out.”
“Well, you really shouldn’t barge in on people while they’re taking a bath. But, I’ll overlook it. So, drop the public service announcement and bring me something to drink,” Brian sarcastically replied.
“I don’t think,” the man replied, stepping closer into the confines of the room.
Cutting the voice off Brian replied, “Well, you’re not old enough to think yet, are you? “
Hearing a curt huff, the boy peered around the door to lock eyes with Brian. “I’m twenty thank you very much! And, you’re an asshole. I hope you choke to death on your own vomit in your alcohol and prescription drug-induced state!”
When the man peered into the room, around the door, the men locked eyes and both sparkled just a little brighter. Although, Brian’s black eye and hooded lid was squinted, he took in the boy’s features in the light. Noticing the deep blue eyes and rosy cheeks, he inhaled quickly. In the dark he looked fifteen, but still not twenty…even in the light.
The dismayed facial expression on the young man’s face belied his anger at the man who sat flagrantly nude in the bathtub in front of him. His body was long and lean and beautiful. The bruises and marks on his chest and ribs shown through the crystal blue of the bathwater and didn’t distract from his beauty. The long toes, prone and poking out of the water and his arms were long and strong as they sat upon the ledge of the tub.
Brian watched the young man’s eyes graze his body and his disgusted frown formed into a delighted smirk. The vehemence in which the boy responded almost had Brian out of the tub cross checking the voice that talked to him that way despite his pain, but the eyes and the lips held him back. “Be that as it may, or wish, I still would like something to drink. Or maybe you’d like to join me?”
The boy’s eyes came back into focus on Brian’s and he graced him with an eye roll worthy of Brian. “I’ll pass!” The man then stormed out of the room and slammed the door. Hearing his heavy footsteps across the hardwoods, Brian waited for the slamming of the bedroom door that didn’t disappoint him. Laughing Brian sat back into the water and replaced the cloth over his face. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be all that horrible. Nice to know he’s legal at least. Smiling he relaxed and wondered when he’d see the bundle of sunshine again.
The young man stomped all the way through to the kitchen, coming upon his grandmother at the stove. As she pulled the muffins from the pan, taking precaution she took in the edgy expression of her grandson. “Dueling with the beast are you?” she snickered.
“He’s horrible Grandma! You’d think that someone would be subdued in his condition, but not him,” the boy replied and stole a muffin from the basket. “You ought to sprinkle some arsenic in his soup for good measure next time,” he winked.
Laughing, the woman untied her apron and sat across from her grandson, at the table, sipping her tea. Winking she replied, “Now, now. We didn’t raise you that way Justin.”