Page 39 of Something Like Hail

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Something was wrong. Noahwasn’t receiving any assignments. Five days had gone by, each moregrueling than the last. He kept texting Marcello every afternoon,the responses all variations of:Sorry,nothing for you today.Noah had gone backinto penny-pinching mode, eating breakfast and dinner at theshelter and making sandwiches when hungry in between.

More upsetting than the lack of work wasHarold. He was gone. After leaving Chester’s apartment, Noah haddecided to play it cool and let Harold chase after him. An entireday passed with no contact, so he had given in and texted. Thereply didn’t make him happy.

Traveling with a client. Not sure how longit’ll be. I’ll text you when I’m back. Or you can call if you haveany questions or problems.

That was nice, but Noah lacked an excuse tocontact him because he wasn’t going on any assignments. He missedworking. Having an occupation—no matter how dubious—gave him asense of purpose. Without regular work, he was back in the library,reading books to pass the time, or walking the streets for exerciseand sunshine. His life felt empty again. No Harold, no challenges,no money, and no fun.

He was so desperate for human contact thatupon arriving at Jerusalem in the evening, he was ecstatic whenEdith told him he had a letter.

“It just came in themorning,” she said. “Right after you left. I told the mailman tochase you down the street. He didn’t think that was funny, which isfine, because I wasn’t kidding.”

Noah accepted the letter gratefully, evennodding at the glowering bouncer—Pete—and not feeling bothered whenthe gesture wasn’t returned. “Thanks,” he told Edith.

“Who is Tim Wyman? A friendof yours?”

“Huh?” Noah glanced down atthe letter. That it had come from Ryan was no surprise. Seeing whoit was addressed to gave him pause.

To: Tim Wyman

c/o Noah Westwood

Real subtle. Feeling less enthusiastic aboutthe contents, he shoved it into his back pocket. “Friend of afriend,” he answered.

“Ah,” Edith said. “Well, ifyour friend needs a place to stay, he’s welcome here too. You can’tshare a room though. Speaking of which, your rent is due tomorrow.Don’t forget!”

Noah swallowed. “I’m not sure I’ll bestaying.”

“Why not?” Edith said,already sounding upset.

“Money is tight.” As in, hewasn’t sure when he’d be seeing more, if ever. He still had wellover a thousand dollars in the bank. Chester had been generous, andNoah had been careful. He intended to remain so.

“You let me know,” Edithsaid. “Not everyone can pay on time. That is okay.”

He nodded his thanks, then went upstairs,attempting to enjoy the room while he still could. The privacy wasappreciated, but he didn’t have much to do there except charge hisphone and wait for someone to contact him. Speaking of which…

He pulled out the letter, shaking his headat the way it was addressed before opening it. Three pages long.Front and back. He glanced at the top of each page, searching forhis own name. When he didn’t find it, he double-checked theenvelope. Nothing. Ryan had written a long letter to Tim, buthadn’t bothered to say anything directly to Noah. He was soirritated by this that he stuffed the letter back in the envelopewithout reading it. Noah wouldn’t be able to deliver it anyway. Notwhen so cut off from Marcello’s world.

Feeling frustrated, he sentthe man in question another text.Anything?

Afraidnot, Marcello responded.Patience is a virtue!

So ishope, he shot back, but he might as wellhave been talking to himself. Noah flopped back in bed and staredat the ceiling. He was pretty sure Marcello was cutting him off onpurpose. He hadn’t gone on the fisting date, and that had no doubtpissed Marcello off. As gruesome as the prospect sounded, now hewished he had at least tried. Then again, maybe not. There weresome things he wasn’t willing to do for money. Noah consideredsearching for another job but felt just as trapped as before.Without an education, job history, or a reference, he wasn’t likelyto get much. Still, he had a phone. Marcello would probably takethat away too, but he hadn’t yet. Applying for a fast food jobwould be easier now. Tomorrow he would start looking.

The light outside began to fade. It wasnearing dinner time, but he didn’t have an appetite. Not for food.Grabbing his phone again, Noah sent another text, this time toHarold. He thought long and hard before he sent it, deciding thathe didn’t have anything to lose.

I miss you. Can’t wait until you’reback.

To his delight, the response was almostimmediate.

I’m at the airport! Just landed. Got adinner invite, but tomorrow?

As in them seeing eachother? Absolutely!Cool, Noah texted back.I’ll see you inthe afternoon.

This improved Noah’s mood considerably. Hewished he could be careless with his money because he wanted to buya new outfit so he could look his best tomorrow. When the day came,Noah made sure he was just as polished as when going on a date.Freshly shaved, showered, and wearing clothes warm from the dryer,he showed up at Harold’s house feeling great, naturally high fromtheir impending reunion.

When Harold threw open the door, hair mussedlike he’d just woken from a nap... There had been a time when Ryanwasn’t able to get his drugs. Five miserable days for them both.Ryan suffered all sorts of withdrawal symptoms, both emotional andphysical. Noah suffered the brunt of his ever-shifting moods. WhenRyan finally got more heroin, he had cried tears of joy, evenbefore the needle slid into his arm. Noah hadn’t understood that atthe time, and didn’t want to, but this was close. Seeing Haroldagain felt good. Too good!