Published: 23 Dec 2019

Pink Cadillac: Benji and Jeffie

Nemesis

Gary and I were in the living room. It had been snowing since we got back from the museum. Gary struck flame to the lighter pine, resinous kindling at the base of hardwood logs stacked on the andirons. He looked toward the couch where I sat, and grinned, as if he were pleased by this proof of his mastery of fire.

“Can I have a hug?” I asked.

“Actually,” Gary said. “I was hoping for a cuddle in front of the fireplace.”

It took me, like, zero time to get to Gary. We had a good cuddle. It had become easier to forget the 46-year-old man and exist as a 12-year-old boy. More and more I was depending on Gary. Not just to feed me and keep me warm, but to comfort me. Like now.

“Did I do the right thing … killing that man, I mean?” I asked.

Gary already held me in his arms. He could hardly have hugged me any tighter. “Did you know what would happen?” he asked. His voice was soft, with no hint of blame.

“Not really,” I said. “I just reacted … if I thought at all, I thought I’d knock the baton out of his hand, maybe.”

“This is the first time you’ve used the sword,” Gary said. “Except to frighten away those fake US Marshalls. I never thanked you for that, by the way. Thank you.”

I managed to hide my surprise; I didn’t know he had seen … Gary was still talking.

“You couldn’t have known. And, you had only two choices: defend the boy and yourself, or leave the man free to hurt both of you, and then do again what he tried to do. I don’t believe this was a spur-of-the-moment thing for him. He was stalking the schoolboys; he knew about the emergency exit in the restroom.

“In this situation, there was no in between. I really don’t think you had a choice. You did the right thing.”

I didn’t know which felt better: Gary’s affirmation that I had done the right thing, or his strong arms holding me. All I knew was I felt really, really good. Until I felt a call.

Gary and I waded through snowdrifts into an alley. He had taken me as far as his four-wheel drive would go. I let Gary break trail through the drifts and crust of the snow, even though I was stronger than he was. It felt right for me to depend on him – and to make him feel I needed him.

Gary called. “Here! They’re here!”

He picked up a boy, perhaps eight years old. Gary opened his parka and pulled the kid close to his chest, to warm the little body. I brushed snow from the second one. I knew, even before I heard the crunch of tires on the snow, it was too late. The other boy – maybe six years old – was already dead. I turned and saw a black Mustang. I moved away from the body.

Death looked at the little body, and then reached – gently, I thought – into the boy’s chest and removed his soul. It was white and pure. Death lifted it above his head. It seemed to take wings and fly toward the sky.

“You two … you’re still together?” He addressed this question to Gary, who was struggling to zip up his parka with most of the boy inside.

“Yes,” Gary said. “It seems to be working.” Then he surprised me … and, I think, Death.

“How have you been?” Gary asked.

Death stood silently for what seemed a long time. Then, he said, “You do not fear me?”

Gary shrugged. “You have a job to do. I think I understand it, and I think I know what it is. I could never know the toll it must take on you.”

Death looked at him. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for understanding that. Please take care of Benji. He’s the one inside your coat. He’s got a lot of years to go, and he’ll miss his little brother, Jeffie.”

Gary nodded and then stuck out his ungloved hand. Death looked at Gary for a moment, took the offered hand, shook it, and then got back into his car and drove off.

“Wish I knew what kind of tires he had on that thing,” Gary said. I knew he was trying to lighten the moment. It didn’t work; he knew it.

“Come on,” he said. “We need to get Benji home.”

Not “the” home, not “a” home, but, just, “home.” Gary understood the difference.

Death

He feels something, but he doesn’t remember. Maybe he never will. I remember, though. I remember them all.

There was nothing glorious about war. It was dirty, and it stank of the odor of men too long without bathing, of uniforms stained with sweat, of wounds festering, and of bodies rotting in ditches and under the thin soil of mass graves. A man lay in one of the ditches. He wore the uniform of the Army of the USA. His left leg was shattered. Blood pooled around his thigh. Too much blood. His body was shutting down.

I wore a uniform, too. Desert camouflage, like the man’s. Unlike his, mine was crisp, clean, starched. The creases were knife-sharp. I drove a HUM-V, but mine was black. They didn’t see me; they didn’t see me or the HUM-V until it was too late.

I stepped out of the vehicle and walked toward the man in the ditch, ready to take his soul. Before I reached him, a soldier with a red cross in a white circle on his armband jumped into the ditch. I watched the soldier wrap the man’s leg in a pressure bandage and then hook an IV to his arm.

I hesitated. It was for only a second, but that was enough. Perhaps it was the IV solution or the pressure bandage. Perhaps it was the unvoiced plea of the medic – the plea I heard: Mithras, god of soldiers, please don’t let me lose another one!

I remembered the medic, too, and I knew who he was thinking of. Nine months ago. An 18-year-old soldier. Redhead. Looked younger. He had bled out, too. The medic got to him before his heart stopped beating, but it was too late. The boy was brain-dead. The memory haunted this particular medic. I pushed it aside. I had many worse memories.

I knew Mars was there long before I heard him striding across the battlefield. He and I exchanged glances. He spoke. I nodded. The heart of the wounded soldier continued beating. The brain that had been about to die from lack of oxygen woke, intact. The man opened his eyes. He saw the medic. He also saw Mars, me, and my HUM-V.

The man closed his eyes and lost consciousness. The scene had been burned into his memory, but it was a deep memory, one that would not easily be recovered.

Nemesis

The snow had gotten deeper. I followed Gary back to his car.

A pink Escalade was parked behind Gary’s car. A grandmother wrapped in furs stood beside it. Dike sold cosmetics? No … it was like Death’s Mustang … the Escalade wasn’t real, not “real real” but just “god real.” Hard to explain. Wait a minute! I was a god! I wondered if I could get a car, too. I was thinking a cobalt blue BMW Z4. I think Dike sensed that. She looked at me, and frowned.

“Why did you drive here?” Dike asked. She didn’t say it aloud; I heard it in my mind.

I started to say because it was too far to walk, but stopped myself. The guy whose place I’d taken warned me not to piss her off. So, I tried to just look puzzled. Dike took my hands, briefly, and explained. Then, she spoke to Gary.

“I’m pleased that you are working together,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Gary answered. “Death seemed surprised, though. We need to get this kid home.” It was clear that Gary didn’t plan to take time to talk to Dike. She seemed to understand.

“I’ll meet you, there,” she said. Gary nodded and said yes, ma’am again, and we got into his car. I drove. I was forgetting – or erasing – a lot of what I knew as an adult, but I still remembered how to drive. Gary and I learned that no one paid attention to us when I was driving … no one wondered why the driver looked so young – or was going so fast. Gary turned the heater to “high.”

Benji

I wasn’t sure if I was being smothered, or cuddled, but it was one of those, for sure. I hoped it was cuddled. I heard a zipper, and saw light, and stopped worrying. For a minute, that is.

I was in a doctor’s office. There was an old lady who looked kind of like Arpie’s grandmother. There was a boy wearing a torn T-shirt. There was another kid in school clothes. And, there was a guy in a parka who was holding me. Tight. Warm.

What’s going on? Where is Jeffie? I panicked. “Where’s Jeffie? Where am I? Who are you?” I demanded.

“Benji, my name is Gary. I’m sorry, but Jeffie is dead. You are in a safe place. These people are friends: D … Candi, Nemesis, and Bobby.”

Jeffie’s dead! How can that be? I started crying. The man who was holding me handed me to the grandmother lady. Wow! She was strong. She cuddled me, and kissed my forehead, and after a while, I quit crying.

“I’m sorry, too, Benji,” she said. “But Jeffie wants you to be happy. We are your new friends, if you will let us be.” She looked at the man who had been holding me. I thought I saw something come out of her eyes. The man nodded.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “We are your friends, Benji.”

Gary

I thought it was coincidence that Bobby was on duty in the infirmary when we brought Benji to Erewhon. Bobby wasn’t expected to do much except call the nurse when somebody came in, and then help the nurse wash cuts and scrapes; it was one of the little jobs the boys of Erewhon could do to earn spending money.

After Dike looked at me, and I felt her concern for Benji, I figured it probably wasn’t coincidence. Somehow, Nemesis, Bobby, and I were linked. I had figured that out. Now, Benji was part of our … our circle.

Dike seemed surprised when I offered her coffee, but followed me to the staff lounge. The coffee had been on too long; the stink greeted us when we walked through the door. Still, I poured two cups and handed her one. “Creamer and sugar?” I offered.

She set down the cup. “Neither … and not the coffee, either. What’s on your mind?”

I was half afraid she was going to morph into her goddess form, but she didn’t. Barely.

“I’ve got a problem, ma’am,” I said. “What Nemesis and I did, tonight – rescuing Benji – was right by any legitimate measure of rightness, except that which we humans live under.

“We took an eight-year-old boy out of a snowdrift and saved his life. I don’t know where he came from, or where he needs to go. We left his six-year-old brother dead in that snowdrift. Even if no one saw my car, I’ve got some explaining to do.”

I brushed my hair back. “Ma’am, I want to help Nemesis, and I want to help the thousands of kids who need help, but I’ve got to operate within human law. With Nemesis, that isn’t always easy. This isn’t the first time, either.” I explained about the two dead men.

Dike nodded, and pulled out her cell phone. She pushed one button … it was someone on her speed dial.

“Hello, Ben, this is Judge Everhart. I know the snow has you busy, so I will be brief.” She spoke an address. “I received a call; I called a friend. We found one dead child, and one live one. We didn’t have time for the niceties. We brought the live child to Erewhon … Yes, he’s okay and they will notify Family Services … but we had to leave the … the other one. Will you handle that, please?”

There was a pause. Then Dike said, “Thank you, Ben. My friend is Garreth Walters … yes, Gary … yes, that one … certainly.”

She snapped the phone shut. “Ben Marlburg. Police Captain. He will take care of Jeffrey’s body, and make sure the coroner doesn’t just dump him. It will be up to you to make funeral arrangements. You must also contact Family Services about Benji. Let Captain Marlburg know if you encounter any problems there or elsewhere. He knows who you are. Take his number…”

Gary

I was humbled. That’s the only word that works. I tried to tell Dike that, but she just patted my cheek and said I was a good boy. It was disconcerting how she changed from goddess to Superior Court Judge to grandmother in the span of a few seconds. I think that’s part of why I was humbled – she had so many roles, and she managed to play them all well. Is Nemesis going to become like that? I wondered. I wasn’t sure how I’d deal with it if he were.

After she gave me the police captain’s phone number, she got a faraway look in her eyes, and then said, “Take this down.”

I grabbed my iPad. She spoke a name and address.

“That’s where the father lives. There is no mother. It’s not far away from where you found the boys. Tell Nemesis.”

I watched the goddess fade from her eyes. The grandmother stood. I rushed to help her from her seat, and she smiled. “Thank you, Garreth. You’re a good boy.”

She patted my cheek, again. Then, she disappeared. I don’t mean walked out. I mean vanished. I shrugged, and thought, at least Nemesis doesn’t pop out like that.

Dike

Garreth was becoming frustrated. I was afraid it would interfere with his work. He’d come to accept Nemesis. It would have been hard for him not to: Nemesis was a cute, 12-year-old boy who cuddled with Garreth, satisfying Garreth’s need for love and, more important, his capacity to love – without creating guilt. Garreth had a boy to love; Nemesis had a man who loved him. It was a good match. I knew it would be. Still, their relationship was not complete. It would continue to evolve as Nemesis changed to fit his role, and there would be problems.

Garreth accepted me less easily. On the other hand, he seemed to understand Death. I saw their meeting earlier today. Actually, I thought he and Death might become something more than just colleagues. And I knew that Death and Mars had made some sort of deal on that battlefield.

Was it time to tell Garreth about that? Perhaps, but first, I had to find out what the deal was.

Nemesis

Gary came back without Dike. I wasn’t surprised. I figured she’d translocated to wherever she lived. That’s what she’d explained to me, and why she was surprised we’d driven to find Benji. It’s something I could do. She said the guy I replaced should have told me. I shrugged, and said he’d been too anxious to leave. I asked what else he hadn’t told me, but Dike went back into grandmother mode, and just smiled.

Benji was settled with the staff. We promised we’d visit him, soon. Bobby said Benji could sleep in his room until he found a roommate, and that seemed to cheer up Benji a lot.

Gary

Nemesis was quiet on the ride home; usually, he babbled when we were stuck in traffic, and the snow had done its usual job of snarling Chicago traffic. I tried to draw him out, but he answered my questions with grunts, so I shut up and concentrated on driving.

When we got home, I pulled out my iPad.

“Dike said to give you the name and address of Benji and Jeffrey’s father. The weather’s too bad to go there, now—”

“Not for me,” Nemesis interrupted. “Dike showed me something … I’ll be back.”

He disappeared, just like Dike had disappeared from the staff break room. No sparkles, no whoosh, no nothing. Just disappeared.

Nemesis

Gary was waiting when I popped back into the living room. He’d rekindled the fire. I’m glad he’s so strong. I would have hit the floor, hard, if he hadn’t grabbed me. He knew something was wrong. He carried me to the fireplace and cuddled me.

When I stopped crying, he kissed the tears from my cheeks. I felt his love so strongly.

“I killed him,” I said. “Jeffrey and Benji’s father. He chased them out into the storm. He told me he thought they’d stay in the apartment building … under the stairs or in the laundry room or with someone. But he was lying. He knew they were too afraid of what he’d do if he found them … he had … he had beaten them both … the little one when he dared ask for food; Benji when he tried to defend his little brother.

“I was angry, and I killed him. I stuck my sword in his chest, and he died. It wasn’t like the guy in the museum. I knew this one was going to die.”

Gary

I nodded, and kissed his forehead. “My little boy…” We were both crying. I felt his tears. “My little Nemesis. Twice today. That’s too much … you should not have to bear this burden. I’m going to call Dike—”

“No!” Nemesis said. “We can’t! Please…”

“Yes,” I said. “She understands what is right must prevail. She must, then, understand what is not right must be corrected. You said you were both retribution and justice. Is it justice that you suffer, so much?”

Nemesis sniffled, and shook his head.

“Then, I’m going to call her first thing tomorrow.”

While the fire burned down, we talked. We talked about what justice meant, and how it was different from retribution. I told Gary a little … a very little … about my journey through Hell. I had to stop because it made him so sad. We sat by the fire until it burned out. The cold ashes had no clues for us.

We did agree not to call Dike unless things didn’t get better. Before we left for bed, I told Gary that we were going to have to help Benji and that he was going to feel real guilty Jeffrey was dead.

I was crying, again. Gary kissed away my tears again.

“We will. You and Bobby and I will help Benji … and, I think he’ll help us, too.”

He hugged me, again, and then…

“Nemesis?” Gary said. “I was worried when you disappeared. I was frightened. I didn’t know where you were. You could have told me … I could have gone with you … I would have taken you … my car’s got four-wheel drive … even in this snow … ” He was babbling, but I didn’t hear the words. All I heard was what he was thinking: I love you. I want to be strong for you. I want to help you, teach you. Please don’t ever leave me.

There was a warm feeling in my tummy that didn’t come from the dead fire. It grew until it filled me to the brim. It was what I had been waiting for all my life. I’d never felt it, before, but I knew what it was. I kissed tears from Gary’s cheeks and then said, “I love you, Gary. I love you so much! I want you to be strong for me. I want you to help me, to teach me. I will never leave you.”

The maître d’ at the Thai restaurant seated the two young gentlemen and their elderly woman companion, and then beckoned the waiter.

“It’s so sweet of you boys to take your poor old grandmother to lunch,” Dike said, after she had ordered.

Mars snorted. “Cut the crap, Dike. I’ve got battles to attend. There are insurgents in Afghanistan and Yemen; Muslim fundamentalists in Iran and Yemen; drug smugglers in Mexico and Yemen, and gangs in Chicago. And in Yemen. This era has more fighting than the American Civil War, much more than World War II. They are on the verge of losing World War III, and they don’t even know it.”

Death tried, successfully, to hide his disapproval of Mars’ apparent delight in dying, whether slowly through cocaine, heroin, and meth or more quickly and brutally through suicide bombers, improvised explosive devices, bullets, and drone missiles.

“You can move in time as easily as I do,” Death said. “You won’t miss anything.

“I’ll have the tea rose appetizer and then the green curry, please.” This, he addressed to the waiter.

“Okay, Dike, you called this meeting. What do you want?” Mars asked. His face was redder than usual: he had ordered the hot curry with sesame seeds.

“On the battlefield in Afghanistan you two reached an agreement about Garreth Walters. I have known that. However, he is mine, now. I want to know what was agreed,” Dike said.

“None of your business,” Mars said. Death was silent.

Dike looked at Death. Her appearance didn’t change, but her eyes and voice switched from grandmother to elder goddess. “You will tell me, even if Mars doesn’t. Don’t think of defying me,” she said. “Remember you were once mortal. You are not an elder god; you are—”

Death interrupted. “I know what I am. I’ve figured out that you and Mars are two of the few original gods who are left.

“Still,” he continued, “I didn’t ask for this job. That’s got to count for something.”

Dike’s eyes and voice changed back to grandmother. She smiled and patted Death’s hand. “I know,” she said. “I know that you are not free to speak of this. I would not ask you to break an oath. But I do ask you to deal with the recalcitrance of Mars.”

Death nodded to Dike and looked at Mars.

“We had a battle once,” Death said. “You lost. It was not I, but one of my predecessors. Perhaps that is why Death is renewed; so that we have the energy to stand up to the ennui and the hubris, of the old gods. Hmmm?”

Mars scraped his plate before answering.

“Damn it, Death,” he said. “Tell her.”

Death

I finished my lunch and closed the plate by placing the knife and fork close together with less than an inch of each hanging over the side of the plate: the signal to the waiter that he might remove the plate. The waiter understood; he was of the older generation of waiters, and not one of the youngsters who demanded the dignity of being called “service staff,” but whose standard, crude question, “Are y’ still workin’ on that?” was a sign of the times, and of the degeneration of its manners.

“Garreth Walters almost died on the battlefield,” I said. “I was waiting to take his soul when two things happened. A medic reached him, stopped his bleeding, and started an IV. The medic also pleaded to Mithras, one of Mars’ Aspects, for his own sake and for the sake of Garreth that he not lose another injured soldier. That slowed me long enough for Mars to arrive.

“He said, This one has work to do; leave him, please. It was the first time he’d ever said anything pleasant to me; the first time he had asked me for something. The last time, too, so far.

“I agreed. And have regretted it ever since. I cannot imagine Garreth having work to do for Mars that would be anything but … I won’t say evil, for I know Mars is amoral and not to be judged by the rules of my early Roman Catholic upbringing. Still, I cannot believe any good will come of it.”

Dike and Mars looked at one another. Her lips were pursed and she shook her head. “Mars?” she asked.

“I promised nothing,” Mars said. “There was no deal. Here … ” he threw a handful of $20 bills onto the table. “My amorality won’t let me cheat the waiter.”

He turned and stormed out of the restaurant.

Stormed, thought both Death and Dike, and watched clouds gather over Lake Michigan.

Nemesis

I woke up the next morning when Gary got out of bed. He never sleeps late, but doesn’t mind if I do. He says that kids need more sleep than adults. After years of drunken, broken sleep, I was happy to agree with him.

Last night was awesome. We cuddled closely. I breathed Gary’s breath, and he breathed mine. He held me tightly against his chest. I never had sex with anyone who I truly loved. It had always been … I can’t say casual, because there was nothing casual about it. It was usually fast, dirty, and animalistic at best. So, on a scale of one to wonderful, last night was the best night I’d ever spent, and even without sex it was way better than any night I’d ever spent. Yes. Way better.

Gary pulled the covers over me, and kissed my cheek. I was asleep before he left the room. It’s good to be a 12-year-old!

I finally woke up, dressed, and went downstairs. And then freaked when I got to the kitchen and found Gary and Death having coffee. I think Death sensed that. Sensed I was freaked, that is.

“This is a social call, Nemesis. Please don’t be afraid,” he said.

I nodded like a little bobble-head doll. I didn’t realize how stupid I must have looked until drool started dripping onto my T-shirt.

Gary got up and poured orange juice for me. He hugged me when he handed me the glass. I wanted a kiss, but I think both Gary and I were kind of shy in front of Death. Then, Gary asked what I wanted for breakfast. I would have been happy with cereal, but after hearing Bobby’s story, Gary hadn’t bought cereal ever again. And I knew he wouldn’t let me finish the pizza left over from last night’s supper. It was nearly lunchtime, anyway.

“Um, how about I make toasted cheese sandwiches … open face, with tomato slices and bacon? I could make a bunch at once … ?” I offered.

Gary agreed. I got out a cookie sheet, turned the broiler on, and started putting things together. My mother used to make these, I thought. With soup. It was a winter Saturday lunch. I wondered where that memory had come from. Then, Gary brought me back to reality.

“Nemesis?” Gary said. “May I tell Death about yesterday?”

I froze until I realized that Gary was talking about the two men I’d killed, and not about me telling Gary I loved him. At least, that’s what I heard from Gary.

“Okay, sure, I guess,” I said. I tried to sound as if I didn’t care. I don’t think it worked. I listened to Gary and Death and watched the sandwiches in the broiler while Gary told about the man in the museum and about Benji and Jeffie’s father.

Gary

I was happy Nemesis was willing for me to talk to Death about the two deaths, yesterday. I still wanted to challenge Dike on it, but … Death was, I guess, the expert and a good place to start.

“Why didn’t he see you, either time?” I asked, after recounting the stories.

“I do not attend every death,” he said. “Only those where there might be a question, those that are untimely, those that pique my interest. And I cannot tell you why one and not another falls in the last category. I can move in time – like Santa Clause must do in order to visit millions of children in a few hours. Still, I don’t always arrive at the instant of death.

“The death of the man behind the shopping center was untimely. If you remember, I arrived several minutes later.

“I was at the museum, too, but a few minutes after you left. I should have made a greater effort to be there. I’m sorry. His death was untimely.”

Nemesis

Death must have heard my gasp, for he added, “Even though it was untimely, it was right, Nemesis. His soul was dark. He had done great harm, before. Had he lived any longer, he would have killed an innocent, probably the boy he grabbed.”

I felt much better. I put plates with bubbly sandwiches in front of Death and Gary, and then brought one to the table for me. Gary passed around silverware and napkins from a basket.

“I’m glad to hear that,” I said. “I’m really glad. I didn’t mean to kill him, but Gary said I did the right thing.”

“You didn’t mean to kill him?” Death asked.

“I didn’t even know my sword was there!”

“I didn’t remember buckling it on. I was wearing school clothes, and not my chiton. Dike said it was okay not to wear it when I wasn’t on duty. But when the man tried to hit me with the baton, I heard my sword bang against the wall. I drew it. I blocked him. And he died … he died when the sword hit the baton and a spark went into him.”

Death thought for a minute. “Your sword came to you when you needed it.” He chuckled. “Not unlike the Sword of Gryffindor in that movie.”

I must have looked puzzled, for Death added, “The Harry Potter movies? Don’t tell me … oh, I forget sometimes that you’re not really a boy. Would you tell me how old … ?”

Something in my face stopped him, for he changed the subject, quickly.

“And last night?” Death asked. “When you killed the boys’ father. That was ordained—and right. He had murdered his younger son by driving him into the storm. He had driven his elder son away. Jeffrey’s death in the snow put a mark on Benji’s soul that will take years to erase, even with your help. Justice was served.”

“With our help?” Gary asked. “It will take years for Benji to heal, even with our help? Dike said we were his friends … I felt she meant that he would become something more than just a boy we rescued. But, years?”

Death nodded. “Um, hum,” he said. “She’s probably right.”

“How do you know?” I asked. “How does she know?”

Death seemed at a loss for words. He hesitated before he spoke. He looked at Gary and then me. He pursed his lips. When he did speak, he paused between thoughts. If was as if he weren’t sure he should be telling us this.

“Dike and others of the gods have the gift of foreknowledge,” Death said. “Not exact, and not always accurate, but usually close to correct. Over the centuries, we have lost the gift of the oracles; yet, each of us has, sometimes, feelings of prescience.

“Nemesis may, as well.”

The instant he finished speaking, Death stood. He thanked me for breakfast, and said time-slip or not, he really needed to be going. He and Gary shook hands.

“Before you go?” I asked. “You said Santa Clause? Is he … is he real? Is he an elder god?”

Death smiled. “That, my young Nemesis, is for us adults to know, and you youngsters to figure out.”

Nemesis

After Death left, Gary hugged me. “You were very polite, this morning. Thank you for making lunch.

“But,” he said. “There was something … something not quite right. Something was bothering you. Will you tell me?”

I shrugged and walked to the sink where I’d put the dirty dishes.

“Nothing, no problem,” I said. I turned on the water and started rinsing stuff and putting it in the dishwasher.

Gary

I struggled to say what I had to say. “Nemesis? You said you love me. I love you. Those are absolutes. There is no I love you more than, or I love you this much. There’s only, I love you.

“I know you can hear what I’m thinking. That doesn’t bother me as much as I thought it would, because I do love you, and I know you love me.

“I cannot hear what you are thinking or feel what you are feeling. However, I can tell when something’s bothering you. There was something about Death … something about his visit … that made you uncomfortable. It was more than having the avatar of death at the breakfast table.”

I won’t ask you to tell me because I love you and you love me, I thought. I hope you will decide for yourself.

Nemesis put the last of the dishes in the dishwasher and dried his hands.

Nemesis

It took about ten minutes and both the adult I had been and the boy I now was to answer Gary’s unspoken question. “I was jealous,” I said. “I didn’t want you to have another friend! I’m so … so selfish!

“I said I loved you, but I didn’t want you to be happy!”

By this time, I was crying. Gary scooped me up and held me tight. It’s my favorite hug when he picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist, and he presses my head to his chest and puts his face in my hair. He’s so strong! I hope I never grow up! I want him to be able to hold me like this, always!

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