doc and raider

He looked at me for a long time, then finally spoke. “I think… I think it is time… for me to say goodbye.”

“Hey, if you thought Ray was — “

“No, François. You and your… husband… are both fine. But… this is not my place anymore. It is yours. I would be… awkward, oui?”

“Étienne…”

“I did not understand… what all this meant. I suppose I was… waiting for someone to give me permission to leave… That does not make much sense, does it…”

“Yes, it does,” I said quietly.

“And yet… it seems you did, mon ami. For I feel… comfortable leaving.”

“But for where?”

“I… I do not know. This room, this rooftop: they… have been my universe for so long. And yet I do not know why I stayed. I… watched many other lives pass through that room, people whose lives were… so different from my own. I do not think I understood some of them. One… he painted the walls that horrible colour. And when he left, the landlord decided it was too much trouble to paint over it. So he left it. I did not understand that. It is a horrible colour, is it not?”

I smiled. “What colour were they when you lived here?”

He smiled in return, a broad smile of conquest. “I painted them bright yellow. It made my little room seem… enormous. I… I loved waking up to so much sunshine, even on the darkest of days. Tu compris?… But they are not yellow now, so it is not my little room anymore. And this is… not my rooftop. They were mine only… only as long as the walls were yellow and Rio danced on the beach. And she has not danced there for a long time, je pense qu’ouais.”

“As long as we live here, I promise: it will be yours as well.”

“Merci. It is such a… nice rooftop, is it not? So I may… visit sometimes?”

“Bien sûr.”

He smiled again, with a shy hesitance. “And… and maybe… maybe if you like, I could dance for you. Would you… like that?”

“That would be wonderful.”

“I would like that too… Then perhaps I should go. I remember… at night, when I would go to dance at the club, other people were… asleep. When I came home, it was… sunrise, and they were getting up… and going to work as I was going to sleep. Pretty funny, yes? We were never… on the same time.” He looked off at the windows all around us for a moment, then back at Ray and me. “Perhaps it is time for you two to… sleep as well, oui?”

“Not for a while yet.”

“Still… I should go. If I am here, peut-être I am not the only one, oui? And… and perhaps I will find… others. But I will not find them if I stay in this room with the walls of horrible colours. The world… it will shelter me. And I will find… others. And maybe… maybe they will like it too… if I dance for them. So… bon soir, François. Tell your… husband — that is so curious, is it not, to call him your husband?”

“And yet he is, Étienne.”

“Yes, he is. You are… so fortunate. He will not leave you for a beer, I think,” he added with a slight grin. “You… you will tell your husband goodbye for me as well?”

“I will.”

He’d already started to fade in the night air when suddenly he turned back and looked at me, his face part happiness and yet part fear. “You will… remember me, oui? That would be… nice.”

And then he was gone.

I felt Ray standing behind me, his hands resting lightly on my shoulders. “What did he say?”

I turned and hugged my man as tight as possible. “C’mon, let’s go inside.”

———————————————-

(The subject matter aside (although I hope you enjoyed it), how did you feel about this manner of presentation with one big image and a lot more text? Let me know in the comments below.)

I found Doc out on the roof, staring up at the night sky. “Hey, hot man.”

“Hey yourself. How’d the interview go?”

“My French sucks… and not in a warm, pleasant kind of way. But for some unfathomable reason they decided to hire me anyway. I start on Monday.”

“Congratulations.”

“Hey, try to contain your enthusiasm, okay?”

He smiled at me. “Sorry. It’s been a helluva day.”

“Our little friend showed up again?”

He nodded, then looked back up at the sky. “Ray, what’s going to happen to us?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, when we pass on, do you think we’ll still be together?”

“Hey…” I held him tight. “Are you kidding? Of course we will be. You think you’re getting away that easy, think again… What’s prompted this?”

“… I dont know. It’s just been a helluva day… Étienne…”

“That’s our friendly ghost?”

“Dont be flip, okay? Not now.”

“I’m sorry. What did you find out about him?”

“I dont know. It’s all confusing, because somehow he cant keep the memories straight. Everything is all jumbled up. His sense of time is all way out of whack. As far as I can tell, he thinks what happened thirty years ago was just last week, and he still thinks his boyfriend is just out for the evening having a beer with a friend, even though he’s finally figured out he’s… you know… not with us anymore.”

“Wait. Back up. Boyfriend? Is there a second one we should be watching out for?”

“No. Georges was apparently a real piece of work. When Étienne got sick, Georges ditched him. Went out for a beer and never came back. And none of Étienne’s friends would help care for him, maybe because they didnt know or maybe because everyone was so scared of getting infected themselves. He was abandoned to suffer through this completely by himself, and he died alone in that room. I dont even want to think about how long it was before anyone knew.”

“Jesus…”

“And so people came in and moved out the furniture and sent the clothes to charity and threw out the garbage and scoured the walls and… that was that. He was a dancer in one of the clubs. Now… no one knows who he was. I actually went down there today and asked, and all I got was blank stares. It’s like he never existed. He was this sweet, funny kid who didnt ask a lot out of life, and Life returned the favour by giving him even less. Ray, promise me that wont happen to us, okay?”

I wrapped my arms around him and held him as tight as I could. “Not a chance, François.”

He sighed. We stood there for a while, content to just be with each other and look at the stars, both of us fully aware that the stars probably couldnt give a damn…

“Âllo…”

It was Étienne, standing at the doorway.

“I… mon anglais…” he smiled, “Il n’marche pas bien.”

“He said his English isnt very good,” Doc whispered.

“Neither is my French,” I gently smiled. “Talk to him. You can bring me up to speed later.”

“Dont leave, okay? Stay with me for a while.”

“I’m right here, sweetie.”