The Geek and His Artist (26 page)

“Good morning. Has there been any sign?”

Both of the cops nodded at her in greeting. The first cop, who barely cleared Jimmy’s shoulder in height and had a buzz cut under his cop’s hat, shook his head. “No one’s seen him. Of course….”

She nodded. “Yeah, okay.” She turned to Jimmy and motioned to him. “This is Jimmy Bennet, Simon’s friend. He’s here to help me get Simon’s things. Jimmy, Officers Kaminski and Rowan.”

The two officers nodded at him and he returned it.

Jimmy waited outside by the patrol car with Officer Rowan—who was slightly taller than Officer Kaminski, but still shorter than Jimmy—while Mrs. Andrews and Officer Kaminski went in to get the landlady to open the apartment. As they waited, Jimmy remembered Simon’s skateboard. He went up and dug it out from behind the lattice where Simon had told him it was stashed. He breathed a small sigh of relief when he found it whole and put it in Mrs. Andrews’s car. By the time he came back, Mrs. Andrews waved from the window, and Jimmy hurried inside.

The landlady—an ancient, stooped woman who wore a flowered housecoat of some sort—stood off to one side. “The appliances come with the apartment!” she shouted, though her voice didn’t have much volume.

Mrs. Andrews smiled at her. “We are only here for Simon’s things.”

Jimmy spotted Simon’s backpack near the door and snatched it up. It was empty, so Jimmy hoped the sketchbook and schoolbooks were in the bedroom. He followed Mrs. Andrews into the tiny hall. Ahead of him, he could see a stamp-sized bathroom. To the right, a peeled-paint door was closed, but to the left, one hung open, and Jimmy stared, wide-eyed, at the interior, his heart shattering.

Wood splinters covered the floor from what had once been Simon’s desk drawers, bedside table, and dresser drawers. Strips of fabric that Jimmy thought used to be Simon’s clothes were strewn over top of the broken furniture. Pieces of pictures and other paper mixed with the wood and fabric, though Jimmy didn’t see anything that looked like sketch paper. The blanket that had obviously seen better days lay in a torn heap at the end of the bed that was, to Jimmy’s surprise, still otherwise intact. The mattress had been slashed, but was still in place. There was no closet, just a wardrobe that looked untouched, and the main frame of a dresser sat in its original place, but those seemed to be the only things undamaged.

“Holy fuck,” Jimmy whispered, then blushed at the look Mrs. Andrews gave him, though he realized it wasn’t a reprimand, more like a commiseration. “How am I going to tell him?” Jimmy swallowed.

“We’ll tell him together,” she said softly, then turned to Officer Kiminski. “Can we still take things out of here? If there’s anything left?”

Officer Kiminski nodded. “Unless someone reports theft or there’s otherwise a crime scene….”

She nodded. “Jimmy, do you think there might be anything in here?”

“Yeah, actually. Hang on.” Jimmy pulled out the list Simon had written him. The lotion and picture of him in the bedside table were gone, of course. He lifted the mattress and breathed a
big
sigh of relief when a sketchbook sat under the back side, untouched. He quickly paged through a few—skipping over those he knew they shouldn’t see—and when he was sure they were all there, stuffed it in Simon’s backpack.

With his height he was able to reach onto the top of the wardrobe without a stool and found the second sketchbook. He opened the doors and reached around the bottom and found the hole in the corner Simon had told him about. He lifted out the piece of wood that Simon had made into a false bottom, found the small box full of Christmas ornaments Simon had told him was in there, and grabbed it.

Underneath the wardrobe and dresser, he found the other sketchpad, a manila envelope with some old cards and pictures, and a picture album. There was no sign of Simon’s schoolbooks or notebooks, and Jimmy fervently hoped Simon left most of them at school. Everything he’d managed to find fit into the backpack, and Jimmy’s heart tore at the thought of those few things he could bring back. His rage at The Bastard spiked to all new levels.

They looked a little longer, but there wasn’t a single untouched piece of clothing in the room. Jimmy found some hearing aid batteries, a pencil that had rolled under the bed, and a hairbrush The Bastard had obviously tried to break but couldn’t. Nothing else could be salvaged.

By the time Jimmy got back to Mrs. Andrews’s car, he was shaking in pure fury. It was just
stuff
, Jimmy knew that, but it was one more way for The Bastard to hurt Simon. Just one more thing to make Simon miserable.

He did his best to breathe the cold January air, hoping it would help clear his head. Simon didn’t need to see him this angry. But the haze of red over his vision was being stubborn and did not want to clear. He hoped he could calm down by the time they got back.

He spent the entire trip forcing himself to breathe slowly, but considering that everything he was bringing back fit between his feet, it wasn’t working very well. He knew he was probably blowing it out of proportion, but he couldn’t seem to help it. He kept reminding himself that Simon was safe. Clothes and
things
were replaceable. Simon wasn’t. And Simon never had to be under the man’s mercy again.

When they pulled up in front of the house, Mrs. Andrews put the car in park but didn’t turn it off right away. She gripped the steering wheel for a long time, and Jimmy was a little surprised.

“Haven’t you seen this before?”

She released the steering wheel and turned to him. “It never gets easier. I never quite… I can never quite shrug off what some parents can do to their kids. I see it all the time, but….” She shook her head and looked back through the window. “I don’t normally have someone with me for this part.”

Jimmy nodded, understanding the unspoken message: she usually had time to get control of herself. His eyes fixed on the backpack. “If I tell you that I wish I could find The Bastard, just to… never mind.” He closed his mouth, remembering who he was talking to.

“I can empathize. Don’t—”

“Show it to Simon, I know.”

She nodded, then sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”

S
IMON
TOOK
it much better than Jimmy had expected. He shrugged a shoulder, though Jimmy saw the sadness behind his green eyes. “I’m really not surprised,” he said, pulling the sketchbooks and other things out of the bag. “I… I think I would have been surprised if he hadn’t done something. Besides, these were the important things.”

“I have your board too. It’s over by the door.”

Simon gave a small smile. “Thank you.”

Somehow Simon’s acceptance made it worse. The fury, the rage at The Bastard simmered even hotter, and Jimmy very carefully dropped a kiss on Simon’s forehead, then hurried out to the porch, and gripped the railing hard, trying not to crush it to splinters. He ignored the sound of the door.

“Honey?” his mom asked.

“You should have… no, be glad you didn’t see it. He destroyed
everything
he could find. Not a single T-shirt or sock was untouched.” He shook his head, staring out into the weak afternoon light, but all he could see was that room. “The drawers were smashed, the mattress slashed… just… everything except the things Simon had hidden. And you know what’s so sad about that?”

“Hmm?” She put a hand on his arm.

“The fact that he hid those things so carefully tells me this isn’t the first time.” His voice shook, and he tried again to remember how to simply breathe through his anger.

“It’s over now, though. Remember that. We’ll get him new clothes. We’ll buy him pencils. Replace his books. And he never again will feel like he has to hide any of it.”

Jimmy took a deep breath, then another. “You’re right. You’re right, Mom. Sorry. I’m just so
angry
!”

“And you have every right to be, baby. There’s nothing right about this. Nothing. So, yeah, be angry, but then you have to let it go. It doesn’t help.”

Jimmy closed his eyes and gave himself another few breaths, then looked over at his mom. “You’re right. Thanks. I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t need to be sorry. Simon’s worried, though. He wanted to come out.”

“Shit.”

“Stop. Really. Just go in to him now, okay?”

Jimmy nodded and hugged her tight, then went back inside. He knelt next to Simon and took one hand. “I’m sorry, baby. Will you let us replace your stuff?”

Jimmy watched Simon’s face relax, the fear fading and he wanted to curse himself for making Simon feel it. Simon lifted his other hand and cupped Jimmy’s face. “I… I was going to say you don’t have to but….” He managed a wry smile. “You kind of do. I don’t even have clean underwear.”

“Wow.” Jimmy chuckled. “You’re amazing.” He leaned in and kissed Simon softly.

Simon blushed and shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve just… anyway. Uh, Amy wants to play something called Settlers of Catan before she goes. How about we do that?”

Jimmy blinked at him, but realized Simon probably just wasn’t ready to deal with this, especially in front of everyone. “That sounds good. It’s a good game. Let’s, uh, how about some coffee? Or a Mountain Dew?”

“Dew, thanks.”

Jimmy nodded and headed into the kitchen.

After Mrs. Andrews said her good-byes, had another quiet talk with Jimmy’s parents, and patted Simon once more, she took off. Jimmy settled in on the couch, providing the footrest for Simon again, needing to touch. Amy and Dirk set up the game, and Jimmy eased the last of his worries, kissing Simon softly.

By the time Simon won the game, having managed both the longest road
and
the largest army, Jimmy had managed to get rid of his anger. He still wanted to pound The Bastard into goo, but it wasn’t really any different than he always did. So he could actually smile and hug Amy when she and Dirk left to go back to Harrisburg.

And once they’d eaten leftover meatloaf and watched the first Harry Potter movie, Jimmy started to feel like he could let it all go. He had Simon, who was safe, if injured, but that would heal. They were together and would be fine.

Of course, that’s when he remembered that he and Simon were sleeping together.

Oh shit.

A
S
THE
credits began to roll, Simon stretched and made a face. “Ugh.”

Jimmy raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“I smell,” Simon said, blushing.

Jimmy blinked at the blush. “Oh. Oh!” His eyes widened when the meaning behind the blush hit. He was going to have to help Simon clean up, and he wasn’t sure if he was looking forward to it or not. He
did
want to help Simon, and he loved touching Simon. That was the problem, though. He
did
love touching Simon, and he was afraid he’d end up with a huge boner from it he wouldn’t easily be able to hide.

Jimmy bit his lip in thought. He needed to shower too. With everything that had happened the last couple of days, he hadn’t had a chance to clean up either. And he really didn’t want to climb into bed next to Simon without cleaning up first. Maybe he could take care of things in the shower, and then he wouldn’t have to worry.

“The nurse said I was supposed to help you. Do you want me to?”

Simon glanced toward the dining room where Jimmy’s mom was sitting in the window seat, reading. “I’d… prefer you, yes. Well, I wish I didn’t need help. Oh God,” he moaned, burying his face in his hands. Jimmy let him sit, giving him a chance to deal with it. He looked back up. “I don’t… I don’t think I could with your parents. I like them, but I just….”

“Don’t know them.”

Simon nodded fast. “Yeah. Uh, maybe… maybe you can just get me upstairs? And, I don’t know, into the bathroom somewhere, and I’ll be able to take care of it?”

Jimmy frowned. “But… what if you fall?”

Simon sighed. “If I’m sitting, I should be fine.”

Jimmy didn’t like it. The thought of something happening and Simon falling and possibly damaging the leg way worse freaked him out more than a little. “Simon, I’m worried,” he finally said, cheeks red, not meeting Simon’s eyes. He hoped to hell Simon didn’t get upset at him pushing, or think he was just being a perv or something by trying to force his help. He cleared his throat and tried to explain. “I just… I can’t see you get hurt again. Not when I could do something to keep it from happening.” He stared at their hands, which were clasped and resting in Simon’s lap.

One reached out and touched his chin. He looked up at Simon, who was smiling, if nervously. “Then you should help me.”

Jimmy swallowed. “Are you sure? I know you’re embarrassed.”

Simon nodded. “It’s okay. I… I can understand where you’re coming from. So…. Yes. Help me clean up, please?”

Jimmy’s mom chose
that
moment to walk up. “You should take a pain pill first,” she said, and Jimmy tried not to die—yet again—of mortification.
How much had she heard?
Simon looked up, raising his eyebrows, and she nodded. “Yeah. Take one now and give it a little bit of time to kick in. Even if you’re careful, there’s a good chance you’ll bump it.” She smiled. “I’ll get it. Jimmy, you could shower while Simon waits.”

Jimmy tried for humor. “Are you saying I stink?”

“Dude,” his mom said, totally deadpan. “I could smell you from the window seat.”

Jimmy tried not to laugh, he really did, but he couldn’t keep the snickers contained more than a few seconds. As soon as the first got out, Simon started snorting, and less than two seconds later, all three of them were laughing. “Yeah, yeah,” Jimmy said when he got control of himself again.

“I just figured you wouldn’t want to sleep next to your gorgeous boyfriend without cleaning up first.”

Well, shit.
Just like that, Jimmy’s cheeks turned red again. “
Mom
….” Simon giggled and Jimmy looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Was that a
giggle
?”