Page 90 of Vespertine

Being near Nicky and being on this island brought back partsof him that hadn’t existed in so long. The slumbering magic of their childhoodhere awakened them. Every single inhibition was leaving him, like he wasshedding layers of old skin, and while it felt freeing, it wasn’t what eitherof them needed. Or what they could have.

Nicky disappeared into the fort and Jasper followed.

It only had one room with a solid roof and a built-in benchthat had collapsed, but the rest of it had survived. Apart from a layer of deadleaves that must’ve blown in through the small windows and what looked likesome mouse droppings, it actually looked really good.

Nicky was trying to pry open the hinged door in the floorwhere the strongbox sat when he suddenly hissed and stepped back.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” He stuck his finger in his mouth. Around it hemumbled, “Splinter. I might be bleeding.”

“Let me see.”

Nicky stared in disbelief. “Blood, Jazz. Don’t make me peelyou off the floor, I don’t think I have the strength.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jasper said, and he held his hand out.Reluctantly, Nicky placed his in it. “You’re not bleeding, and it’s a bigsplinter. I think I can get it out. Want me to try?”

“Sure.”

Nicky winced when Jasper tried to grasp the bit of wood withhis fingernails but they were too short. “Hold on.” He brought Nicky’s fingerto his mouth and Nicky gasped, lips parting. Jasper kept looking at him as heconcentrated, trying to find the edge of the splinter with his tongue. Hisheart hammered in his chest.

Boundaries, Jasper.

But what were boundaries in this familiar dim light wherethey’d been more than brothers, where they’d learned to love each other andthemselves before life came along and sent them sprawling? The sunlightshimmered through the moving trees outside the windows and Jasper thought hecould feel it, right there in the golden halo of their youth, the time he’dlost. But more than that, something he desperately needed to find again.

When he felt the splinter, he gently gripped it between histeeth and pulled. He released Nicky’s hand.

Nicky stared at his finger like he’d never seen it before. “That…that’sone way to do it,” he croaked. He turned around swiftly and began to pull atthe panel again. His black boxer-briefs rounded nicely against his small assand two little dimples appeared on either side of his spine as he strained toget the door open. The hinges gave away and Nicky stepped back with a grunt. “Looksgood,” he said.

“Mm.” Jasper plucked the splinter off his tongue and flickedit away. “I can’t remember what’s in it, apart from comic books.”

“Oh.” Nicky grew still, his shoulders rigid.

“What is it?” When Nicky didn’t reply, Jasper frowned andlifted the box out of its hole. It was a lot heavier than he remembered and thelock had rusted a little so it took some doing to get it loose. He croucheddown, opened the box, and pulled out two small blankets and a rolled-upsleeping bag. “I don’t remember these.” They smelled like earth and dust butdidn’t feel damp.

“That’s because they weren’t in there when you still came here.”

Jasper looked up to where Nicky towered over him. “What doyou mean?”

Nicky swallowed and averted his eyes. His throat looked longfrom this angle, fragile when the Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. The blue foxreaching toward his heart seemed to quiver mid-stretch. “That summer we weregrounded…I came here a lot. At night. I thought you’d—” He broke off and Jasperclosed his eyes.

“You’d thought I’d come too,” he whispered. And he had. Justonce. But Nicky didn’t know about that and Jasper didn’t plan on telling him.

“It doesn’t matter. Not anymore. What else is in there?”

Jasper could tell it did matter, and he wanted to say itmattered to him too, but he didn’t think the sentiment would be a welcome one.

“Uh. I think this is a joint, actually.”

Nicky’s eyes went wide. “Can you…get rid of it?”

“It’s fifteen years old; I’m sure it’d have as much effectas smoking hay. But yeah, I’ll go toss it out. You can check what else is inthere.”

Jasper walked back toward the beach and tossed the spliff inthe water. He tilted his face toward the sun.Why am I here, Father? Is it toshow me the mistakes of the past? Is it to rectify them? Do You want me to helpNicky? I don’t know if I’m strong enough. I don’t know if…He opened his eyesand stared across the water, toward their childhood homes. Sources of love andloss. The water lapped soothingly at his overheated feet. “I don’t know if Iwant to be.”

When he returned, Nicky had draped the sleeping bag and blanketsout over low-hanging branches on the large oak tree beside the fort.

“They’re not moldy or anything,” he said, “but I thought I’dair them out.”