Companions in Ruin Read online

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  Benny hadn’t seen Edward in nearly two decades, and now the man was asking to be his Facebook friend. Was this some kind of a joke? After all Edward had put Benny through when they were kids, now he wanted to be friends? Sure, that was all a long time ago, but Benny knew how to hold on to a grudge.

  He considered ignoring the invite, but when he gripped the mouse, his curiosity got the better of him. Moving the arrow across the screen, he clicked “ACCEPT”.

  ***

  Private message from Edward Castle to Benjamin Cox

  Hi, Benny. Thanks for accepting my friend request. I was honestly afraid you wouldn’t, and I can’t say I would have blamed you if you’d just told me to go to hell. You still might, and I deserve it.

  So where do I start? I feel like I should say I’m sorry, and yet those two words seem so inadequate considering all I put you through over the years. Starting way back in elementary school when I told everyone your middle name was “Sucks.” There was all the childish crap, like putting signs with “Dork” and “Fag” written on them on your back, shooting spitballs at the back of your head. There was the time in Junior High that I broke into your locker, filled it up with shaving cream, put chewing gum in your textbooks and slammed them shut. Hell, you might not even have known that was me, though I’m sure you suspected. All the name-calling, shoving in the hallways, knocking your books out of your hands.

  Of course, I’m avoiding the major incident, the one I wish I could go back in time and take back. I mean, I think back on what I did and I can’t even believe that was me. Even back then, I didn’t mean for it to go that far. Or maybe I did, I don’t know.

  I remember that day vividly. As I’m sure you do. It was me and two other guys from the football team, we cornered you out behind the gym after school and just started wailing on you. Even after you were down on the ground, I just kept throwing kicks and punches. Even my buddies got scared and started begging me to stop, but it was like I was possessed. Put you in the hospital, I’m lucky my ass didn’t end up in jail. But then again, I think I told you I’d do worse if you ever ratted me out.

  So how does a person even begin to apologize for something like that? I can never make it right, never expect forgiveness. And yet I do want to explain myself.

  Like I said, I don’t expect you to ever forgive me, so this is really more for my own benefit. I’ve been haunted by this all these years and I guess I want to try to exorcise some demons.

  It took me a lot of years to come to terms with why I treated you the way I did. I mean, you certainly never did anything to me, certainly didn’t deserve all the pain and humiliation I doled out. So why did I do it? Not because I hated you, but because you inspired in me something I didn’t want to deal with. Plainly put, I was attracted to you.

  Yes, I’m gay. I’ve been out for the past ten years, but it was a struggle getting here. I had a sham of a marriage that ended in bitter divorce, two kids that don’t want anything to do with me. I dabbled in drugs, am a recovering alcoholic. Self-destructive doesn’t even begin to cover my past behavior.

  I’m sorry, I’m not trying to make this a sob story or attempting to elicit any sympathy from you. Everything that happened to me was my own fault, I don’t pretend to be a victim, but I’ve worked hard to get my life back in order and I think I’m actually making some progress.

  But of all the things I regret, one of the biggest regrets is what I did to you. I was so consumed with self-loathing that I couldn’t admit to my true feelings, and instead I lashed out at the one causing me to feel that way. It was abhorrent and I hate myself for it, and I just wanted you to know that. Just wanted you to know that it still eats at me all these years later. That may give you no comfort, I may just be dredging up memories you had long since left behind, but I just felt I needed to tell you.

  ***

  Benny didn’t reply for almost a week. He wasn’t sure what to make of Edward’s message, his confession and apology. It was a lot to try to take in. He wasn’t sure how to respond, or if he even wanted to respond. Might this just be some sort of mean-spirited prank of the type Edward had often pulled back in school? But that was crazy, who would do such a thing after almost twenty years? Then again, Benny knew that some people could hold on to a grudge.

  Finally, after going back and forth on the issue for six days, he sat down at the computer and answered Edward’s message. He told him that those years had left scars that had still yet to heal, and what had made Edward’s tormenting of him extra confusing was that it was all mixed up with Benny’s own feelings of attraction toward his bully. Benny couldn’t honestly say he could let bygones be bygones just like that…but he was willing to try.

  ***

  They exchanged private messages, IMs, and emails for the next six months. They sent texts, talked on the phone a few times, even video chatted on Skype once or twice. They started out just catching up with each other’s lives—Edward was an IT guy for a small college in Virginia, Benny HR manager of a plant in their hometown in South Carolina—but gradually their conversations became more flirtatious. And eventually downright steamy.

  When the email came from Edward near the end of the year, Benny wasn’t surprised. It was inevitable.

  ***

  Benny, I don’t want to be too forward or anything, but after some of the conversations we’ve had, I don’t know if that’s possible. lol Anyway, the thing is that I’m going to be down near the old homestead next week to visit my sister for the holidays. You remember Patty? She was a couple of years behind us in school.

  Okay, so that really has nothing to do with anything and I’m just stalling. I was just thinking that since I’m going to be in your neck of the woods, maybe we could spend some time together. You know, face to face, in the flesh.

  If I’m overstepping my bounds, just say so, but I don’t think I am. Or at least I hope I’m not. I’m hoping you’re as eager to get together as I am. I have to say, I have really enjoyed reconnecting and getting to know one another these past several months, and I feel like it’s time we took it to the next level. If you know what I mean.

  Just let me know. No pressure, of course, but I will be eagerly awaiting your answer.

  ***

  Benny didn’t hesitate to answer yes, he would love for the two of them to get together.

  ***

  Edward had suggested perhaps they could meet at a restaurant and have dinner, but Benny offered to cook. His house was a bit out of the way, deep in a wooded area outside the city limits, but he gave good directions and Edward showed up right on time. A little early, actually.

  When Benny opened the door, they stood staring at one another for several moments without moving or speaking. Finally Edward said, “You haven’t—”

  “If you tell me I haven’t changed a bit, I’m going to punch you in the dick,” Benny interrupted with a smile.

  Edward’s face blossomed with a smile of his own. The two men seemed uncertain if they should shake hands or hug, so they ended up doing that half-and-half thing where they shook while reaching the other arm around and patting each other’s backs.

  Benny showed Edward into the living room and they sat on the sofa, enough room between them for a third person. “So,” Edward said, “something smells good. What are we having?”

  “Nothing fancy, just a tuna casserole. It’s already made, I just have it warming in the oven. I figured we could eat it later.”

  “Later?”

  “Yeah, you know…after we work up an appetite.”

  Benny scooted closer until he was practically in Edward’s lap. Placing a hand high up on the other man’s inner thigh, he leaned in for a kiss. The kiss started out tentative and awkward, but it grew in intensity and hunger. Benny’s hand strayed higher, cupping Edward’s hardness through his pants.

  Edward suddenly pulled back, panting as if he’d just finished a long-distance sprint. “Are you sure you want to move this fast?”

  Benny smiled, said, “Who are y
ou kidding? You know this is what you came here for,” then went in for another kiss.

  Edward resisted no further, his own hands exploring Benny’s body. When he undid Benny’s pants and reached inside, it was Benny who pulled back this time. “I think we should move things into the bedroom.”

  “You’ll get no argument here.”

  Benny led him through the house and into the bedroom. A small desk lamp in the corner cast a soft glow throughout the room. Pushing Edward onto the bed, Benny lay on top of him, stripping him of his shirt then peeling his own off. Edward reached for Benny’s crotch again, but Benny gasped, “Hold on a second,” then reached over and started fumbling through the drawer in the bedside table.

  “I brought condoms, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

  “But did you bring these?” Benny asked, coming up with two sets of silver handcuffs.

  Edward looked at the cuffs with a bemused grin. “Hey, what kind of guy do you think I am?”

  “Well, judging from some of our recent conversations, I got the impression you weren’t adverse to a little kink?”

  “Who would have thought back in high school that someday we’d end up here?”

  “Well, I always dreamed we would, but it’s hard to believe it’s really happening.”

  Another sloppy kiss, and then Benny cuffed Edward’s wrists to the bedpost. Edward didn’t resist. He smiled up at Benny and said, “So now what? Blindfold? Rubber ball-gag?”

  Once Edward was secured, Benny leaned back, straddling the cuffed man. He did not speak, and his smile withered. Suddenly he lashed out and smacked Edward hard in the face.

  “Fuck, man!” Edward hissed. “I don’t mind getting a little rough, but not that rough.”

  Benny responded by smacking Edward again, this time even harder. A red, hand-shaped welt was rising on the man’s cheek. Before he could say anything else, Benny smacked him a third time for good measure.

  “Okay, that’s enough,” Edward said, jiggling the cuffs, testing the strength of the headboard. “This isn’t my idea of fun.”

  “Too bad we didn’t set up a safety word then, huh?”

  “Very funny. Now unlock these cuffs. You hear me?”

  Instead of answering, Benny climbed off of Edward and off the bed, moving to the closet.

  Edward began bucking on the bed, but the cuffs had him secured. “What the fuck are you playing at?”

  “I’m not gay,” Benny said, reaching for something in the very back of the closet.

  “What?”

  “I said I’m not gay.” Benny came out of the closet with a baseball bat in his hands. “But I do know how to hold on to a grudge.”

  THE END OF HER ROPE

  “Take him, just take him!”

  I had barely made it through the front door when my wife came barreling down the hallway, holding our three-month-old son Peter in front of her. Her arms were straight out and rigid, the baby dangling as far from my wife’s body as possible. Peter was wearing nothing but a diaper, and from the way it sagged I was guessing it was fully loaded. His face was red and scrunched up, and his cries were so shrill and high-pitched I was surprised the glass in our windows didn’t shatter.

  “Wanda, what’s wrong?” I said, taking Peter. I held him close, despite the foul smell coming from his diaper, and rocked him, making soft cooing noises in the back of my throat like a pigeon. The baby immediately quieted, looking up at me with a google-eyed expression of curiosity and wonder.

  “Jason, he’s been a nightmare all morning,” Wanda said then started to cry herself, startling me. She’d never been much of a crier, not even when her parents died. “All he does is scream and scream and there’s no making him stop!”

  “Well, he seems fine now.”

  Wiping her eyes, Wanda stared down at the baby in my arms with what looked like contempt, but surely I was imagining it. “Of course he’s well-behaved for you. Always is. But when he’s with me, all he does is cry and fuss. I swear, I haven’t had a moment’s peace since you left this morning.”

  “Well, I’ve got him for the next hour, you can just go sit down and relax.”

  I taught seventh grade English at a middle school only two blocks from our house, so it wasn’t much trouble for me to come home on my lunch break. This was the first day of the new school year, and since Wanda had given birth over the summer, this was actually the first time she’d been alone with the baby for any extended period of time.

  I took Peter into the living room and laid him on the changing table that was set up in the corner. Before becoming a father, the idea of changing dirty diapers had disgusted me, but I found it wasn’t nearly as gross as I’d feared. Maybe it was different when it was your own kid. As I sprinkled his bottom with baby powder before putting a fresh diaper on him, Peter giggled and squirmed around on the table like a happy worm.

  Wanda had followed me into the room, and she stood a few feet away with her arms crossed, looking sullen. “It’s not fair,” she said.

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m trapped in this house taking care of the baby while you get to go out in the world.”

  I sighed, lifting Peter and cradling him to my chest. “It’s not like I’m out drinking with my buddies or playing golf. I’m working.”

  “Still, you don’t know what it’s like being here alone, having to do everything for the baby by yourself, no relief, no rest.”

  “Honey, it’s only been about four hours.”

  “Seems a lot longer.”

  “Well, it’s not all the time,” I said, looking down at Peter. His eyes were closed, a thin line of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth, and I thought I could hear him snoring softly. “When I’m home, I’ll pull my weight, you know that.”

  At first Wanda said nothing, but then she nodded and laughed shakily. “Sorry, I know I’m acting like a basket case. It’s just been a really rough morning.”

  I smiled at her, trying for an expression that was sympathetic without being patronizing. “It’s a huge adjustment, for both of us. All summer long you’ve had me around to help shoulder the burden, but now there’s a part of the day where it’s just you. I can only imagine how trying that must be. But keep in mind, it’s only about a third of the day, and only the weekdays at that. You’ll get the hang of it soon enough, then when I’m around you’ll feel like I’m just in the way.”

  Wanda returned my smile, and I noticed the spots of color high up on her cheeks that indicated embarrassment. “I’m sure you’re right. Just lost my head for a minute, that’s all.”

  “Don’t worry about it. What is it they say? Insanity is hereditary; you get it from your kids.”

  ***

  The next week and a half went well, or so I thought. I found out differently when I came home the following Friday afternoon.

  I pulled into the driveway, and as soon as I stepped out of the car I could hear the baby crying inside. Not just crying, screeching. Sounded as if he were being scaled or skinned alive. Slamming the car door, I rushed to the house, bounding inside and homing in on the sound of the cries.

  I found Wanda and Peter in the bedroom. The baby was lying in his crib, Wanda leaning over him with a bottle in one hand. Both mother and son were in tears, Wanda saying in a strident tone, “I know you’re hungry, why won’t you just take the damn bottle?”

  “Wanda, what’s going on here?”

  She looked up at me with such a mixture of desperation and relief that it was almost frightening. “He won’t stop. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He doesn’t need to be changed, he’s not teething that I can tell, he doesn’t have a fever, he hasn’t been spitting up. All I can think is that he’s hungry, but he won’t take the bottle.”

  Frowning, worried that Peter might be really sick, I hurried to the crib. Taking the bottle from my wife, I inserted the nipple into the baby’s mouth. Instantly the cries ceased, and Peter began sucking vigorously. He raised his little arms as if he were going t
o hold the bottle himself, and my frown melted into a smile.

  “No, no, no,” Wanda said, shaking her head, her already-tousled hair flying around her face as if caught in a high wind. “I’ve been trying to get him to take that bottle for an hour now and he was having none of it, but you waltz in and he takes it right away, no fuss no muss.”

  I glanced down at Peter, but he seemed unperturbed by his mother’s outburst, intently focused as he was on sucking all the formula out of the bottle. “Honey, you need to calm down.”

  “I just think it’s awfully interesting how he’s always a perfect little angel for you, but with me he’s like the spawn of Satan.”

  “Wanda, don’t talk about the baby like that!”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, breaking down into fresh tears. She collapsed onto the bed, sobbing into one of the pillows. “I just feel like I’m losing my mind. It’s nonstop, from the time you leave for work ‘til you get home.”

  “I know you had some trouble that first day I went back to school, but I thought things had improved since then.”

  “No, they’ve gotten worse,” she said, her voice muffled by the pillow.

  Peter had turned his face away from the bottle, indicating he was done. I picked him up and laid him across my chest, his head on my shoulder, and bounced him while I patted his back. “Wanda, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want you to think I was crazy.”

  “I’d never think that.”

  She sat up then, her eyes red and wet, her nose running. “I saw the way you looked at me last week, like you thought I was some histrionic nutjob. Either that or the worst mother ever.”

  “I don’t think anything of the sort.”

  “Well, it’s how I feel,” she said, taking a tissue from the box on the nightstand and sniffling into it. “I mean, I can’t even take care of my own child. It’s like he wants nothing to do with me.”