Page 108 of Exquisite Things
“Don’t!” Archie blurts out. “Don’t you dare pretend you care about our community when you subjected us to torture—to unimaginable things.”
“The men dying now are just like the boys we knew in Boston,” I say. “You sold them out back then, and you’ll sell them out today. You don’t care about helping anyone but yourself.” I feel my heartpound. I want to escape this horrible bathroom so badly. The smell of my own vomit is making me sick again.
“I’m not the one who turned those poor boys in at Harvard,” he says. “I’m not some serial killer. Nor am I responsible for whatever is killing the queens of New York and San Francisco. I don’t make the rules. I simply play the game.”
“Men like you and your father made all the rules,” I say.
He pulls out a black leather wallet from the inside of his trench coat. “Here’s a little pocket money to gain your trust.”
“We don’t want your money,” I snap.
Bram takes it. Counts the bills. More money than we’re used to seeing at once.
“Bram!” I yell.
Bram looks at me and shrugs. “We have no choice. It’s checkmate. We may as well get on with it.” Bram turns to Jack. “You’ll need to give me your hands.”
“My hands?” Jack asks. “Why?”
“So I can cut them, of course,” Bram says.
“Cut my hands?” Jack asks. “Are you insane?”
A strange, raspy laugh comes from Bram. He’s up to something. “Of course I’m insane. I’ve been seventeen years old for almost a century now. That would make anyone insane. Now if you want me to gift you eternal youth, I’ll need your hands.”
Jack holds the cane tighter in his grip. His arm trembles. The blade does too. Archie holds his breath. “Pages,” Jack says. “You said something about mysterious pages. What do my hands—”
“It’s just your lifeline I need,” Bram explains. I look at him curiously. Impressed and also a little revolted by him. By how quicklythe duplicitous part of his mind works. “The magic paper works by cutting the lifeline of each palm.”
“What makes it magic?” Jack asks. “Can it be duplicated? Mass produced?”
“Do you want immortality or endless conversation?” Bram responds calmly.
“Show me this magic paper!” Jack commands.
“It’s in my pocket,” Bram shoots back. “Now show me your palms.”
“At three!” I blurt out.
Everyone looks at me. “All right then, at three,” Jack agrees.
I count down. One. Two.
At three, Jack puts the cane down and raises his palms up. Bram reaches into his pocket and pulls out the bottle of poppers Lily makes us carry for safety. He throws it at Jack’s eyes.
“WHAT IS THAT?” Jack rubs his burning eyes.
“RUN!” Bram yells.
I grab the cane and unlock the door. I let Archie out first. Then Bram. Before leaving, I turn to Jack with fire in my eyes. “I lied,” I say. “I did hate you. I still do.”
“I’ll find you!” Jack shouts.
“Oliver, hurry!” Bram yells from the corridor.
I can’t leave yet. My eyes glued to Jack, I speak my thoughts with breathless clarity. “All this time, Bram and I never even considered using our eternal youth for power or profit. All we wanted was to be alive in a time where we could love freely. An age without hate and greed and injustice. But now I know such a time will never come. Do you know why?”
“OH SHUT UP,” Jack yells, still in pain.
