Page 12 of Creature
If it was a delusion, John intended torelish it as long as he could. He lay in the darkness, feeling thewarmth from Harry’s body, listening to the symphony of Harry’s evenbreaths. This was contentment, better than a brief pool ofsunshine.
And Harry said John hadn’t been bad.
He fell asleep smiling.
***
He woke early and spent some time watchingHarry sleep. He was a beautiful man, with a diamond-shaped facethat tended toward frowns when he was awake but smoothed duringslumber. John traced a finger over his own cracked narrow lips andenvied Harry’s, lush and soft-looking. Unlike John’s skin, pale asa mushroom, Harry was a light tan with slightly ruddy cheeks.
Harry opened his eyes and startled soviolently that he nearly fell off the bed. “Shit!”
“I’m sorry!” John curledinto himself protectively. He hadn’t intended to make Harryangry.
But after a long look at John, Harry rubbedhis eyes and shook his head. “You’re different.”
“I….”
“You look….” Another headshake. “Never mind. We need to go.”
It didn’t take long for Harry to getdressed. He carried his suitcase outside and returned immediatelyfor John, who settled comfortably into his arms. John felt oddlysafe when Harry held him, although he had no assurances that Harrywouldn’t harm him eventually. Fine. He’d enjoy the contact fornow.
Harry grunted as he crossed to the door.“You feel heavier.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not exactly your fault,is it?”
As he had the previous morning, Harry putJohn in the trunk. This time John wore clothing and wasn’t inchains. Still, Harry seemed hesitant to close the lid. “Are yougonna be okay in there? We got a long way to go today.”
“I’m fine.”
Frowning, Harry shut him inside.
In truth, the trunk was uncomfortable. Johncould barely move and definitely couldn’t straighten his limbs, andsometimes the car’s sudden starts and stops slammed him into themetal walls. But he was well accustomed to solitude, inactivity,and darkness, and at least the trunk was warmer than his cell.Also, when the car moved smoothly—which was most of the time—thegentle bouncing soothed him. Although he couldn’t see or hearHarry, John knew he was close by, and that was a solace aswell.
The car stopped several times, but not forlong, and John remained locked in the trunk. By the time Harryfinally opened the lid, it was nighttime again, but the stars wereshrouded by an overcast sky. Without saying anything, Harry carriedhim into a room similar to the last, although this one had twonarrow beds instead of a wide one. Harry set John down on onemattress—still without comment—and then took a quick shower in theadjacent bathroom. He emerged with wet hair, wearing boxer shortsand an undershirt, and after a long silent scrutiny of John, heturned out the light. Bedsprings creaked as he got into the otherbed.
John wanted to ask a thousand questions, buthe dared not risk angering his keeper. So he remained quiet,although he didn’t fall asleep for a long time.
In the morning John discovered he could situp by himself. He held up his arms, and in the weak light thatcrept around the curtains, he thought he discerned more substanceto his body than he was used to. He was still terribly thin, butnow weak muscles seemed to have developed, and his skin felt softerand more supple. More alive.
He brushed a trembling hand across the topof his skull and encountered… hair. Nothing like the thick brushHarry possessed, but far more than the few tiny wisps John wasaccustomed to.
He glanced at the other bed and discoveredthat Harry was awake and staring at him. “You look different.You’re changing. How come?”
“I don’t know.”
“Have you done thisbefore?”
“I… I don’tknow.”
Scowling at John’s unsatisfactory answers,Harry got out of bed and prepared for their departure.
In the trunk John noted that today’s journeywas shorter and that toward the end there was far more starting andstopping. Traffic noise filtered into his cocoon, and he eventuallyrealized that the odd pinging sound must be raindrops hitting themetal above. When Harry popped the trunk open, John wasn’tsurprised to see that his hair and clothing were damp. Behind himwas a neon sign for the Totem Pole Motel.
“Got us another room. I’lllook for something better tomorrow. God, I’d love to have a realkitchen! I’m so sick of eating restaurant food. I haven’t had ahome-cooked meal since I left Missouri.” His face scrunched up, asif that were an unhappy memory. Then with a loud groan, he hoistedJohn into his arms.
Two beds again. John’s slight disappointmentwas ridiculous, because he ought to be deeply grateful to have abed at all. This room was slightly larger than the others, with adesk, a small round table, and a few chairs. Several paintings ofIndians adorned the walls. John sat on his bed instead of lyingdown as he watched Harry fuss around, getting settled.
