Page 14 of The Care of Broken Things
Eli’s smile stayed where it was. “Were you worried about me? Careful, Samuel. That’s something a friend might do.”
His scowl was inversely proportional to that smile. “Even your jokes belong to an old man.”
“Iaman old man. Hailey says I’m a boomer. Now get up, ordo you plan to make your sister wait?”
He glanced at the wall clock. It was five minutes to four. He jumped up so quickly he nearly knocked his chair over. Eli laughed. “Eager, aren’t we?”
Visitation time never snuck up on him like that. He blamed Eli. Not only was the man’s presence psychological torture, but he had a weird effect on time like he was sucking it in to feed his unearthly beauty.
He tried to shoulder past, but Eli was too quick. He hooked his arm through his like they were a couple of gals off to a picnic.
“What the hell?”
He tried to shake him loose, but Eli was wilier than he looked and had already pinned the arm in place. “You’ve proved we’re friends, so we should go together like friends.”
“Friends don’t hold each other hostage.”
“I’m just making sure you don’t trip. You should be thanking me.”
Eli’s bicep was like a melon digging into his arm, and the man’s deltoid was pressed firmly into his shoulder. It was like being tourniquet'd by a steroid abusing anaconda.
“What the hell kind of workouts do you do?”
Eli grinned. “Better enjoy it while it lasts. I’m already wasting away.”
He didn’t see what was funny about that. Had Eli already lost weight? Would he continue to do so?
“We’ll buy out commissary. I get on the line early every Monday, so I can get whatever you want and tell Frank to order more of your shit. Hold-ups can happen with the orders, but that’s why you need to stock up. We’ll build you a pantry, but keep your food with my stuff for now until we’ve established that no one’s out to steal yours. Though honestly, with the stuffyou eat, I don’t think it’s a danger, but there are some real weirdoes here, and some steal just to—why are you laughing?”
Samuel wasn’t used to making people laugh. He’d never thought of himself as particularly funny, but Eli seemed to laugh at everything, and now he was laughing so hard it was making him nervous.
“It’s because you—” Eli broke off, the laughter too strong. What did Nathaniel do when the man laughed? Did his stomach hurt too, or was he used to that infuriating beauty?Couldyou grow used to it?
“Because I what?” He made his voice cold. Usually that sobered people up. Not Eli, who broke into a fresh wave of laughter. He gave up. There was no use in trying to understand a weirdo. He gave the man’s arm a tug. “Hurry up. Don’t keep your husband waiting.”
Usually, he was the first to the gate. Now there was the Saturday line, always because of the extra visitation volume.
“This is your fault, laughing like that.”
But really, it was his own fault for letting time sneak away from him like that. If Eli hadn’t wasted the time collecting him, he would have been much nearer the front of the line. But the man wasn’t offended and reached over to ruffle his hair. Samuel slapped it out of the air, a reflex. Inside he was trembling. Eli had only touched him for a second, but his whole scalp was on fire. He was still experiencing the odd tingle when they reached the front of the line. It was Mathews again. That was good. With Mathews you could get away with more. He nodded to the man and then twisted away, searching.
Usually Jenny’s eyes were already there, waiting to hook into his own, but his sister wasn’t looking at him. She was talking to someone else, or rather, listening to someone else—a slim man about average height and of average attractiveness. Almost everything about him seemed average. The only thingsthat stuck out about him were a long dark ponytail and skin so pale it was translucent. He had never seen the man before, and might not have remembered if he had, except that he wascertainhis sister didn’t know the guy, nor why she might be talking to him.
As if he felt the eyes on him, the man turned his head in their direction and lit up, jumping to his feet, already on the move. He dodged around a mother and her child, stepped right over a chair and then jumped toward Samuel—and passed him.
The stranger was still in the air when Eli caught him, the much larger man actually stumbling back a step from the sheer enthusiasm of the launch. But Eli’s grip was sure, and he hugged the man to himself so tightly there was an audible spinalpop.
Samuel’s brain shorted out. It was impossible. There was no way, in any measure of the universe, that this average shmo couldeverbe—
“That’s enough! Drop him, inmate.”
But Eli didn’t drop him. He set the man down on his feet like he was the most precious treasure ever found, his crinkled-up eyes exuding so much warmth the room’s temperature went up a couple of degrees.
“Damn, Thompson. You’ve really let yourself go,” the stranger said. His hands were still hovering, wanting so badly to hold on to Eli he couldn’t seem to drop them. “I’ve never seen you uglier.”
“You’re pretty hideous yourself,” Eli said, though his eyes strongly refuted the words. “Those circles under your eyes are almost as black as me. Still not sleeping?”
“The bed’s too big, and Darren too small to replace you. You smell like fish again.”
