P'town Murders: A Bradford Fairfax Murder Mystery (29 page)

"I've said a lot of stupid things, but the truth is I'd just swim out to sea till I disappeared beneath the waves."

"I hope you won't ever have to do that," Brad said. "Were you and Ross...?"

"Lovers," Perry said, nodding.

"You tried to claim Ross's body at the morgue."

Perry smiled sadly. "They wouldn't even give me that much," he said.

"I'm glad to know he found someone like you before he died."

"I wish I could've saved him," Perry said.

"So do I." Brad extended his hand. "I hope things work out for you."

As Brad and Zach made their way out to Race Point, they passed a gaggle of younger boys. One turned and whistled after Zach.

"Hey, cutie! Dump your father and come with us to Tea Dance," he called out.

"Never," Zach called out, grabbing Brad's arm as they trudged over the sand.

"I guess you must have
It,"
Brad said, mildly miffed.

Zach smiled. "I may have
It,
but you've got
me."

They walked barefoot, the sand cool between their toes. Brad was thinking about all that had happened in the past week.

"Grace tells me you think my injuries aren't lethal," he said.

Zach smiled. "You'll live, but it probably hurts right here." He pressed the back of Bradford's neck.

Brad winced.
"Ow!"

"Don't worry, I have a cure for that."

"Is that so?"

"I have the cure for nearly everything. Just put yourself in my hands."

"I'd like to."

"Then do it. It requires no thinking."

"That's where you're wrong. Everything in my life requires thinking..."

"Brad..."

"For instance, I was just thinking about my late partner. Work partner, I mean. Two years ago he was knifed to death ten feet away from me. I couldn't get to him in time."

"Brad..."

"It wasn't my fault, but I still feel if I'd been
thinking
it might have been prevented. Only how can you
think
about something before it happens?"

"Brad..."

"For instance, if I'd been
thinking
I would have realized the 'Reluctant' Rinpoche was too young to have left Tibet with the Dalai Lama in 1959, as Ruby claimed."

"We could think for each other," Zach replied.

Brad was silent for a moment. "And I hate New York," he said. "I'm probably the only gay man who does, but I'd never go there willingly."

"New York's okay," Zach told him. "You just have to learn to pace yourself. I could teach you."

"I'm a whiner and a complainer..."

Don't settle for me. I'm far too much trouble,
he seemed to be saying, like the seller who tried to lower his cost when the buyer accepted at too high a price.

"Take this sand, for instance. As much as I love this place and its beauty, all I can think right now is that it's rubbing my feet completely raw."

"It
is
pretty coarse," Zach agreed. "But things can't always be perfect. You have to take that leap of faith."

"Faith?"

"I'm talking about the L-word."

Brad was silent. The L-word was not something he was comfortable with. He stooped to pick up a shiny stone, rolling it between his fingers as they walked.

"Every time I come here I like to bring back something to remind me of my trip," he said. "I have a whole collection on a shelf at home. Sometimes it's a shell, sometimes a colorful rock..."

Zach stopped and turned to him. "What are we to each other?"

"Huh?"

"You and me. Who are we?"

"Why, I'm your Man of Steel..."

"Uh-huh. And what am I to you?"

"Robin to my Batman?"

"OK. Anything else?"

Bradford turned the stone in his fingers, letting the light catch on its gleaming surface.

"Sometimes you just have to go with it and see what happens," Zach said.

Brad walked on. "I've seen what happens and I don't approve," he said over his shoulder.

"It's not something you approve or disapprove of," Zach said, following behind. "It's just something you accept and learn to appreciate over time."

"Like good wine?"

"Like good wine."

They trudged to the top of a dune and stopped, looking out over the ocean as though their walking had taken them to this spot where conclusions might be drawn. There was an unspoken peace about it all, standing at the edge of the world looking backwards into history, the Where-We-Came-From of this once-Brave New World.

"Ross used to come here," Brad began. "It was his favorite place in the world..."

"I almost forgot!" Zach exclaimed. "I dreamed about Ross last night! I'm sure it was him!"

Brad looked over.

"Boy, was he handsome! He was tall and dark haired, with this gangly smile that could just about break your heart..."

"That sounds like Ross, all right," Brad said. A look came over him. "Why did he visit you instead of me?"

Zach shrugged. "Probably because I'm easier to get through to. While he was visiting he said something odd. I didn't understand it."

Brad was watching the waves. "What did he say?"

"I'm trying to remember. It was like, 'Tell Brad thanks

Brad turned to him.

"...for the fireflies.'"

Bradford's eyes misted over. He rubbed a hand across his face.

"You really loved each other, didn't you?" Zach said.

"Yeah," he said. "We really did."

Zach leaned close and hugged him as the wind blew past.

"Did he say anything else?" Brad asked after a while.

"Just one other thing."

Brad waited.

"He said, 'I hope you'll be happy together.'"

"Did he really say that?"

Zach nodded. "Scout's honor."

"You're a Buddhist, not a Boy Scout."

Zach smiled. "I know. And I can't wait to take you home to meet the folks. 'Hello, Mom, Dad? This is my husband, the spy.'"

Bradford turned and looked into those calming eyes that were like looking into the depths of the ocean. He was thinking about Zach's blue hair and the way his lips curled optimistically upward at the corners. He stood watching Zach a long time, as though weighing something invisible between them.

The sun was setting over the water. If they started walking now, the sparks would soon be flying up with their footsteps. He looked at Zach, and then down at the stone in his hand. He raised his arm and threw it out across the waves where it skipped once, twice, three times, before it sank.

"I guess I'll need another souvenir of my trip," he said finally. "Got any suggestions?"

Zach smiled. "Just one."

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jeffrey Round
is an award-winning writer and director and the author of the international bestseller
A Cage of Bones.
He was a 2005 nominee for the KM Hunter Artists' Awards. His short film,
My Heart Belongs To Daddy,
premiered at the Directors' View Film Festival, and won several awards, including Best Director. His fiction and poetry have been published worldwide. He was founding editor of
The Church-Wellesley Review
and its online quarterly (1990-2001). He regularly writes and produces for film and television. Visit Jeffrey's Web site:
http://www.jeffreyround.com
.