Page 48 of Finding Basil
As he got to the bedroom with the entrance to the attic, he held his breath and set one foot and one hand on the ladder, staring up at the hatch that led to the attic.
He didn’t stop because he was afraid. Of Steve, he’d never been afraid. Even at his worst, Steve loved Basil. He was the only one who was a steady person in Steve’s life. Even his parents had little to do with him, sending money and paying for his hospitalizations, but never visiting.
The guy was a mess, but a lovely mess with a big heart. It hurt Basil that he’d hurt Steve. He just didn’t love him like that. He couldn’t return the love Steve had for him.
Mostly because it wasn’t the kind of love Basil could return. For Steve, it was more of an obsession, a part of his disease. As much as he tried, Basil couldn’t be the guy that Steve needed.
He moved up the ladder and pushed open the hatch slowly, and as quietly as he could. He saw Steve, pacing and mumbling to himself, like Basil had seen a thousand times.
Once the hatch was fully open, he moved into the attic before Steve realized he was there, and once he did, Steve’s face broke in a triumphant smile.
“Basil! Oh, God, I knew you’d find me!”
Basil stood motionless while Steve lunged into his arms, holding him while he spoke a mile a minute.
“I swear, I didn’t mean to start the fire, and I know you’re mad at me, but I just meant it to be a little fire, not to hurt you or anything, because, you know, I’d never hurt you, and then I thought about the car you used to have. Remember how thatthing would smoke, and it reminded me of that car and when we first kissed in that car. The kiss, oh, I don’t know, I never thought I kissed very well, and you—”
“Steve, shhh, stop.”
He pulled back and stared into Basil’s eyes. “Sure, sure. I’ll stop. Go ahead and talk, and tell me absolutely everything you’ve done since you last saw me and then I’ll do that and we’ll be all caught up, except, well, I don’t remember everything, even though you know I have a great memory.”
“You’re going back to the hospital, Steve. Tonight.”
He smiled and shook his head. “Funny,” he said before he started pacing again. “Do you remember that baseball game we went to? The one in town when that other team had those crazy pink uniforms? We laughed so hard at those! Remember?”
“I remember.”
As he paced, he was on about other things, and Basil knew how to wait until he stopped for a breath. That gave him time to look around, and he saw the pipe and bag of pot, the seven empty cans of Dr. Pepper, Steve’s favorite drink.
There was a thin sheet and blanket on the floor and a throw pillow for a bed, and a pile of clothes. That mess wasn’t all, though. There was a pile of pencils, worn down completely, and what Steve had used them for was literally all over the walls.
Pictures and words were on every wall as far up as Steve could reach and all the way to the floor. When Steve didn’t have someone to talk to about his manic-induced ideas and memories, he wrote them all.
There were baseball players on one wall, cars on another, roses on yet another, though he wasn’t a great artist, the pictures were good enough for Basil to see what each was. The words, all scribbled with the left-handed slant Steve had and all bunched together tightly.
Millions of words, telling Basil how long this manic stage had been. His heart hurt for Steve, and he had to help him. Prison would kill him. Letting him go completely would too. Neither was the answer.
“Steve, get your stuff together. We’re leaving.”
“You got a place of your own now?”
As hopeful as he looked, Basil knew he knew what Basil meant.
“Steve, you set Herb’s house on fire. You are living here, and you…you destroyed his property on different occasions. You could go to jail.”
He waved a hand in the air and scoffed, “Nah, I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”
“You meant to hurt him, whether or not you know that. You’re jealous that I’m with him now.”
Steve picked up a pencil, then set it back with the others, rummaging through them for one that could still write. “Well, maybe, but you can’t blame me.”
“Steve, you’re all into me now, you want me so bad, but soon, you’ll hit your depression phase, and you won’t want to see me for weeks. You’ll lay in a bed, lights off, not eating, barely drinking water, and you will refuse to see me. We can’t have a relationship when you only want me when you’re manic.”
“Manic, shmanic, you’re just using those words from the docs, and I’ll tell you, what is manic about remembering the good times we had, or thinking of ways to make us some money to get the fuck out of this town? Get free of my parents, ya know?”
Basil mustered every bit of courage he had, sucked up his lingering feelings for the man that had won his heart with his sideways, beautiful smile, and he stuffed them down to be able to give him an ultimatum. “We’re going to the hospital, or you’re going to jail. Those are your two choices. That’s it. No more talking me out of it, no more running away.”
Steve side-eyed him, then dropped straight to his knees. “I can’t go back. I can’t take those pills! They…they get rid of me, and I know you don’t like me anymore, but I like the me those pills take!”
