Last Petal on the Rose and Other Stories Page 9

  "And she keeps trying to convince me that we should retire in Gibsonton." Janine said.

  "It's where so many of the carnival greats have retired to. But she keeps saying no," Marisol lamented. "Alligators."

  Makana laughed. "How did you two meet?"

  "At the circus," Janine said. "My friends dragged me along with them, and then I went back night after night just to see the pretty knife-thrower again."

  "I am unforgettable," Marisol said, and Janine laughed and gave her a swat on the arm.

  "I hate to cut this short," Patrick said, "but we have to get going."

  "Oh!" Janine said. "Just a minute. Makana, we wanted to tell you that we bought two of your CDs after Pat told us he was working for you. It's very pretty stuff."

  "Thank you! I actually go into the studio next month to start work on a new album."

  "Wonderful! We'll pick one up as soon as it comes out. Isn't your concert soon?"

  "Tomorrow night."

  "Speaking of," Patrick said, glancing at the clock.

  "Drive safely," Janine said.

  "And call us to let us know how the concert went," Marisol added.

  "I will," Patrick said. "Talk to you later."

  *~*~*

  One thing that Patrick knew he'd always miss about Arizona as compared to L.A.: the amount of traffic. They sat at a standstill, Makana flipping through radio stations, settling on an Oldies one.

  "Hang on a minute," Patrick said, when the DJ announced that the next song was by Eddie Money. "No way should 80s music be on this station. Now I feel old."

  Realizing what had just come out of his mouth, he glanced over at Makana to see that xe was indeed giving him a disbelieving look. He smiled, all toothy apology.

  This was not going well, he thought. Bad enough that he was 99% sure he was falling for his employer, but he wasn't even being good at it.

  *~*~*

  Patrick was glad he wasn't out in the audience. Being in a crowd of thousands, for whatever reason, would have him breathing into a paper bag within ten minutes. Backstage was bad enough.

  He knew it was ridiculous, for a bodyguard to have a problem with crowds. It was like being a professional skydiver who had a fear of heights. He hoped that if he kept making himself confront it, sooner or later, the nerves would fade away.

  So far, no such luck.

  His gaze flitted around the sea of faces, especially the people who were close to the stage. He looked for anyone who seemed out of the ordinary, who didn't fit, but everyone seemed excited and happy to be there. They had security at the doors and scattered among the audience, but even that didn't stop the knot in his gut.

  Makana caught his eye just before xe went onstage and gave him a wide smile. He smiled back, and listened to the sound of the crowd as they cheered xyr entrance. From all appearances, xyr nervousness had disappeared. Xe strode out onto the stage confidently. Just like everyone else in the audience, he couldn't take his eyes off xyr. Older members of the audience clapped, and he also heard excited shrieks from groups of teenagers.

  Then xe started to sing, and for the first time he realized how travelers must have felt when they first heard Orpheus's lyre. Xe enchanted the crowd in the truest sense of the word, drawing them all in as a siren would lure a ship.

  Patrick watched xyr from the wings, listening to songs that were familiar from his childhood and ones that xe'd released recently.

  And when the concert was done, xe came backstage and walked straight to him, beaming, the crow's feet at the corners of xyr eyes crinkling from happiness. Xyr face was ruddy from exertion and from being under the hot stage lights, and strands from xyr wig were plastered to xyr forehead with sweat. Xe tugged the long, straight wig off, transforming from Snow White back into Makana, and then xe threw xyr arms around him.

  The temptation to turn the friendly embrace into a kiss was nearly overwhelming, but Patrick forced himself to step back. People were taking their picture even now, and xe didn't need the kind of publicity that a stunt like that would bring, especially when he was sure xe didn't return his feelings.

  "Thanks so much," Makana said, as Alyce handed xyr a different, drier wig. Xe tugged it on, tucked a few stray locks of black hair underneath it, and then smiled up at him. "Come on; time to go sign some autographs."

  *~*~*

  Three days after they'd gotten back home from the concert, Patrick tugged on a shirt and headed out of one of the spare bedrooms.

  Makana was already up. He started to say good morning, and then fully took in the scene in front of him. Xe was sitting at the kitchen table, staring blankly at a magazine, a half-empty bottle of red wine in front of xyr.

  "Makana?" he asked quietly, and xe looked up at him, eyes red-rimmed and despairing. "What are you reading?" he asked, taking it from xyr hands as if simply breaking xyr contact with the offending paper would solve the problem.

  It was an article called 'Snow White: Hollywood's Ice Queen'. The title was enough, more than enough, but he read further, seeing the reporter call xyr cold and unapproachable and lament how difficult the interview had been and how hard he'd tried to get something useful out of a 'completely uncooperative subject'.

  When he got to the part about how Makana's father, the great philanthropist, would surely be ashamed, he shut the magazine and dropped it on the floor.

  "What the hell?" was the only thing he could manage.

  "You know how my dad died?"

  "Earthquake, wasn't it?" he asked, sitting down across from xyr at the kitchen table. It was heartbreaking to see xyr like this, brought so low by someone's cruel words. He thought again of schoolyard bullies.

  "Yeah. Y'know why, though? Got himself killed over a dog." Xe took another drink, and refilled xyr glass. "Dad was about the softest touch anyone could meet. Fell for every sob story, tried to fix everyone's problems. He'd get assholes coming after him sometimes because he was black and dared to have money, and even then it was just 'forgive them, they know not what they do'. And he always fed this dog. This stray dog that hung around his office building. Bought treats for it and everything. And she got pregnant like stray dogs do, and he started talking about bringing her home. Mom wasn't sure. Dog didn't look sick or anything, always seemed friendly, but I was pretty young, and she didn't like the idea. Well. Earthquake hit. And dad hears a howl from outside and runs out to save her. Hit by falling debris. Nobody else in his office died. Just him. They stayed where it was safe."

  Xe took a long swallow of wine, and Patrick debated the wisdom of suggesting that xe not pour another glass.

  "The dog didn't last very long, either," xe continued. "But the vet managed to save one of the puppies."

  "You kept it?"

  "Oh, yeah. Mom insisted." Xe remembered sitting in the waiting room at the vet's, hearing him say things about 'very low chances' and eyedroppers and feeding schedules and being unable to process any of it.

  Xyr mother had wanted xyr to hold the puppy once they'd gotten home. Xe'd refused.

  "Makana," xyr mother had said, not chiding or disappointed, just curious, and xe'd snapped out, "Daddy'd still be here if he hadn't tried to help that dumb dog."

  "It's not the puppy's fault," Haunani had said gently. "Your father is...is gone because nature doesn't care if you're trying to do a good thing or not. If he'd lived, he would've brought this little guy home. This is what he would've wanted."

  Xe took another drink of wine and eyed what remained in the bottle. "We ended up naming him Spencer. My father's middle name. Then the story got out, everyone fell all over themselves praising him. How brave that had been, how selfless. I wanted to think that, too. Tried to. But I keep coming back to how stupid it was. He'd been safe. He could've come home."

  Makana rested xyr forehead on the palm of one hand, eyes scrunched shut and tears dripping onto the table. Patrick moved out of his chair and knelt down beside xyr, taking xyr free hand. Xe squeezed it tightly and then sat up straighter to free xyr other hand as well
, clutching his hand in both of xyrs.

  Patrick reached for the magazine with his free hand, intent on flinging it into the garbage, and then he saw the publication date.

  May 2014. Over a year ago.

  He wondered, as Makana held his hand tightly, how many times xe'd been drawn back to that article, guilt forcing xyr to look through the pages and see all those admonishments again.

  "Come on," Patrick said quietly, letting go of xyr hands and picking up the magazine. Xe got up and swiped at xyr eyes, then watched as he opened one of the kitchen cupboards and pulled out a book of matches.

  Makana stumbled over to him and took the matches, then cleared the small pile of plates and glasses out of the sink. Xe struck a match, and shakily touched the flame to the corner of the magazine.

  Smiling, xe watched the glossy paper curl into blackness, as the pages that held the hateful words xe'd always been perversely drawn back to disappeared.

  Then the smoke alarm went off, and xyr smile turned into laughter. Xe bumped into him in xyr rush to turn on the water, turning the burned paper into a charred, gloppy mess in the sink.

  "Admittedly, I may not have thought that one through," Patrick said, covering his ears against the shrill beeping of the alarm.

  The impulse to kiss him at that moment was so strong that Makana gave in to it, covering his hands with xyrs as xe leaned in to him.

  When he didn't kiss xyr back, Makana stepped away, hurrying over to the smoke alarm as an excuse to not look at him. "Sorry," Makana muttered. "I don't know what..."

  No, that was a lie. Xe knew exactly what had come over xyr. Xe was falling for someone who was not only twenty-one years xyr junior, but an employee.

  How sleazy could xe be?

  "If you don't feel comfortable here anymore, I understand," Makana said, turning off the smoke alarm. The silence that hung between them for a moment made xyr want to retreat. When Patrick still didn't answer, xe gave in to the impulse to flee, though xe managed to maintain enough dignity to walk, not run, outside to the backyard and sit down on the swing.

  "You idiot," Makana grumbled. Things had been going fine. They'd spent time together, they'd enjoyed each other's company, and if xe had looked at him a little bit longer than a friend would, what did it hurt?

  Except now he knew. And he was probably already out the front door.

  Makana groaned and covered xyr face with xyr hands, bracing xyr elbows on xyr knees. Maybe xe could blame it on the three-fourths of a bottle of wine xe'd taken care of this morning. No, xe thought. It would have happened sooner or later, wine or no wine.

  Xe heard footsteps approach then, and sighed. "I don't blame you if you want to quit. Just please refer me to somebody good? Because again, I had to interview six bodyguards before I found you."

  He still didn't say anything, and xe was suddenly struck by the feeling that something was deeply wrong. Rather than looking to confirm xyr suspicions, xe leapt up and started to run, but it was too late. The stranger was already close enough to snag hold of xyr arm. A flash of silver was the only warning xe got and then there was a knife at xyr neck. He held on to xyr tightly with his other arm, pressing xyr back to his chest.

  The terror that flooded through xyr had little to do with that and everything to do with the fact that the back door was standing open. Xe had closed it behind xyr. He'd been in the house.

  How long had he been in the house? Feeling sick, xe yelled Patrick's name.

  "Already took care of him," the man snarled. "Did you really think I'd let you get away with this, freak?"

  "Get away with what?" Makana asked, trying to figure out if xe could kick him in the shin and dodge away without getting xyr throat slit. Xe couldn't see the blade itself, couldn't see if there was already any blood on it.

  What if Patrick was—

  No! He was all right; he had to be, xe just had to not panic. That was what killed people, xe'd read, not the situation itself, but the panic, missing obvious things because fear overwhelmed everything else.

  A hysteria-tinged laugh was xyr only answer for a moment, and then he hissed, "You don't know who I am, do you?"

  "I might if you stepped back and let me look at your face," xe snapped, trying to pull away. He held xyr in place easily.

  "You said we were best friends," he snarled. "Said I was your favorite person. Then I fall on hard times and where the hell are you?"

  "Randy?"

  "Just ten grand or so was all I needed," he said, the press of the knife against xyr neck growing fainter as he ranted and gestured. "You could spare it! I ask you nicely and in return you—"

  The breath left his lungs in a whoosh when Makana drove xyr elbow back into his gut. Xe flung xyrself to the side, the knife scoring a shallow scratch on xyr neck. Gasping for breath, he lunged after xyr, and Makana punched him in the nose.

  His entire body went taut and began to jerk, and then he flopped to the ground. For a baffling second, Makana honestly thought that xyr punch had somehow caused that reaction, and then xe realized that Patrick was behind him, holding his Taser.

  There was a thin trail of blood on the side of his head starting just above his left ear, and xe ran over to him. "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah," he said, though he looked a little unsteady. "Guy watched too many movies. You knock somebody out, they don't stay knocked out for three hours."

  Patrick retrieved Makana's kitchen knife from the unconscious man's hand. "Call 911?" he asked xyr. "I'm going to sit for a minute."

  He sank down onto the swing xe'd been on moments before, and Makana ran into the house to grab xyr cell phone off xyr nightstand.

  The cubbyhole door in xyr room was standing open. Inside the cramped space were fast food and candy wrappers, and a filthy pillow.

  In xyr room. He'd been hiding in xyr room.

  Makana snatched up the phone and ran back outside, trying not to hyperventilate. Xe punched in the number for the police, wincing as xe finally realized how much xyr hand hurt.

  After xe'd given their information and hung up, Patrick motioned xyr down next to him. "Thought you said you knew to keep your thumb outside your fist."

  "Must've forgotten. Heat of the moment and all." Xe crouched down in front of him and brushed some of his dark hair back, inspecting the lump on the side of his forehead. "When the ambulance gets here I don't want any argument; you're going to the hospital."

  "Won't be an argument. That hurt."

  "What happened?"

  "I was standing in the kitchen and all of a sudden, something moved next to me. Didn't have time to do anything before he hit me. I think it was one of your pans. And I'm not the only one taking a trip to the hospital."

  "I'm fine," Makana protested. "It's just a sprained thumb."

  "No, it's not," he said. Xe looked down at xyr hands, saw how much they were shaking. And xe did seem to be having trouble catching xyr breath. "Oh."

  "Just in case. Until they get here, sit with me, okay? Focus on your breathing. In and out. With me."

  *~*~*

  That was the last moment they had alone for over a full day, as first the police, and then doctors, and then media had question upon question.

  Once they were finally back at Makana's house—after evading the members of the press who were parked up and down the street—xe collapsed onto the couch.

  "Maybe we should've checked in to a hotel instead," Makana said. The police had been through the house and had taken everything that had been in the cubbyhole as evidence, but the fact still remained that xyr attacker had been here. Creeping around at night.

  "It'll be all right," Patrick said. "You stay in one of the spare rooms and I'll crash on the couch. Okay?"

  Makana headed for xyr room.

  The cubbyhole, now empty, looked more like what xe remembered from xyr childhood.

  "I hadn't opened it in years," Makana said quietly. "We used to play in it all the time. Not just me and Randy, but any kid I ever had over. Becky and Luisa and Manuel and
Karen..." Xe trailed off, hesitantly reaching out to touch the sliding door. "Dad and I used to play. He'd squeeze himself in there and then I'd clamber in and we'd pretend to be stowaways on a pirate ship. Mom would call us for lunch and shake her head at us. She was claustrophobic. Used to say that just seeing us in there made her feel twitchy."

  Makana stepped away from the cubbyhole. Right now the only thing xe wanted to do was fill it with concrete, board it up, make absolutely sure that it was gone. But after a few weeks or months, would xe regret that decision?

  "I wrote him one hell of a letter," Makana said. "After he wrote me asking for money. I got it the day of Aunt Linh's funeral, and I just... I exploded at him. If I'd just ignored it, or at least if I'd been more polite—"

  "Hey," Patrick said, resting a hand on xyr shoulder. "He tried to take advantage of you when you were grieving. That is not someone who was good to start with."

  "He was good, though," xe said, resisting the urge to lean into him. "He was a really nice kid."

  "And how many decades passed between then and now?"

  "Four," xe admitted. When xe and Randy had been friends, Patrick hadn't even been born yet. Xe blinked quickly, keeping xyr gaze on the floor. "But still."

  "You don't know what happened between when you knew him and today. I'm sure the media will tell us all about it within the next few weeks," he said. "But you cannot make a good person into a bad one with a sharply-worded letter. This is not your fault."

  Makana closed xyr eyes, trying to believe the words. Xe knew they made sense, but it just felt like xe should have been able to do something to keep the outcome from being what it was. Then xyr focus slowly shifted from what xe should have done differently to the weight of his hand on xyr shoulder, and xe reluctantly stepped away.

  "Look," xe said. "About the other morning. I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have done that, it was unprofessional and put you in an awkward position and if you want to quit, I won't argue."

  "That's very noble," Patrick said. Xe met his eyes and saw that he was trying very hard not to grin. "Given that nobility, now I feel awful about all the dirty thoughts I've been having about you."