Page 34 of Stalked By Shadows
“It’s part of my training to know how to react to mental health issues. Saw videos on the full audio and video flashbacks. They always say not to touch you, but I didn’t want the cops to do something stupid, then you grabbed me and held on, telling me you’d keep me safe. Did you save the guy you remembered?”
“Yeah, I think so. They never let me talk to him afterward. He’d been a tent mate. One of half a dozen who all bunked in the same tent on rotation. I don’t really remember much about him other than his name.”
“But he’s alive because you held on to him.”
I had kept the storm from eating him. Funny thought that was. He’d been trying to get to it the whole time, following the pull of whatever, like Odysseus to the sirens. I had felt it too, heard the call, telling me to come, the offer of a million impossible fulfilled promises. Yet I’d stayed planted in the tent, watching helpless as the others climbed over us, exploding into blood and bone seconds later. The last man out I’d grabbed the leg of his pants, held on until I thought my fingers would rip off. All while he’d tried to crawl away. If he’d been of sound mind, he’d have kicked me away, or even turned and punched me in the nose to get me to let go. Same with the man I’d held to the ground with my weight. Both had survived. Though the second man had lost an arm. Funny how the memories came back so vividly when I wasn’t trying to focus on them.
“Maybe you can teach me to crochet,” I said watching him craft something so easily. “If it works so well for stress relief.”
“It’s a lot of counting,” Micah said.
“I like numbers. It helps my meditation. When I’m having trouble relaxing, I count backward. Is this another shawl?”
“Yes.”
“You sell the shawls you make in the shop?”
He smiled at me. It made something in my gut thaw, like maybe we’d be okay. “Prayer shawls. It keeps the church ladies from picketing my store. They come in and say ‘look at that nice boy who makes prayer shawls to remind everyone what a temptation the darkness is, he’s a good boy.’ They have no idea.”
I laughed, thinking of old church ladies browsing prayer shawls which were displayed less than two feet from the entrance to the little sex toy dungeon Micah had built. “You’re devious.”
He shrugged, looking pleased with himself. “The whole Christian thing never worked for me. Too much control and restraint against people being people. I’m gay. I like sex. I’ve been known to smoke pot and dance naked in the moonlight. Does that make me a bad person? I don’t think so.”
I thought of him dancing naked in the moonlight and would have liked to see that.
“You’re thinking of me naked, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Guilty,” I admitted. “I’ll watch you dance naked any time, but not in my brother’s bed.” I pointed at the bed.
“You can dance naked with me the next time. We’ll do it at my place.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” I thought briefly about whatever it was outside his house. Was it safe to be outside at night? That was a silly question as we’d gotten to his place pretty late. “Can you be outside your place at night? Is it a time thing? A place thing?”
“There’s a structure,” Micah admitted. “Usually after midnight, mostly after three a.m. though I have yet to find any reasonable explanation as to why that is. I’ve also found that putting stuff in the garden keeps them or it distracted.”
“That’s why you have zombie gnomes and stuff,” I said remembering.
“Sky has picked a bunch of stuff. There are things in the trees to attract birds and fairies.” He shook his head. “Not sure if she really believes in fairies or is more along the ‘what the hell, it can’t hurt’ mentality, but whatever. The zombie gnomes are actually from your brother. I think they amuse him and since he doesn’t have a lawn, he uses mine. A lot of the gardening is actually what he does on his days off.”
For all Lukas’s talk about not really being close to Micah, it sure seemed the opposite. “You and him are really not into each other? He has a thing for pretty. You’re more than pretty enough for him.”
Micah smiled. “I came on to him once. I think it weirded him out as I am firmly in the ‘must protect’ category. Like a kid brother or something. Not that it’s impossible to break out of the role Lukas puts us in, as Sky started off that way too. She’s more aggressive than I am. Lukas is also a bit more… formal, I guess? Traditional? It’s hard to put into words because to me he feels like some of my father’s old work partners. Respectful to the point you wonder if they are thinking bad things about you. Though usually that’s just my paranoia. I think it’s more that he can never shut the cop off.”
“I don’t think Lukas thinks bad things about you at all.”
Micah shrugged and went back to crocheting. “He doesn’t think bad things about you either,” he pointed out. “He worries. A lot. Wants you to find solid ground beneath your feet.”
“I don’t think he can do that for me.”
“No. But it helps if you have support from more than one person. Less pressure on Lukas too.”
I thought about that for a few minutes. It made sense that growing my circle would give me more support and diffuse some of the tension on the rest. “Is that something you really want? To be part of my circle? Even if it means my troubles sometimes settle on you?”
“That’s life, right? We all have troubles. I could use more friends. I know I have a hard time sharing. Maybe if we both do a little bit it will be easier for both of us?”
“Like when you’re madly knitting in the bed next to me and I sit here wondering how I can help ease your stress?”
“Crochet,” Micah corrected. “I suck at knitting.”