souls of black | fever in, fever out

chapter 112: practice what you preach

Sam awoke to the feeling of Alex's little body nestled up right next to her. At some point, over the course of the night, she inched closer to him and he had put his arm around her once again. She slid her foot back towards that edge of the bed only feel to it was icy cold from the nightfall. Indeed, the entire house was cold from the night and the induction of the Bay Area fog outside.
Even with the daybreak, the Bay Area was still dark and cold from the dead of winter. She cuddled closer to him like they did in the back seat of the car: the sole difference was that a full inch of rain had fallen all over San Francisco overnight rather than something over a foot of snow. But she shivered regardless of the covers over her body.
There was a loud clank at the front of the house, followed by a pair of soft voices.
Alex groaned in his throat at the sound and Sam opened her eyes. His face remained right before her own: the tip of that aquiline nose about an inch from her cheekbone. Those sharp eyebrows as smooth as stone, and that skin as pale and smooth as the very snows that chased them away from Lake Tahoe. Even though he lay flat on his back, he had rolled his head over the top of the pillow and thus that little tuft of gray hung right above her eyes. For a moment there, upon her opening her eyes, she swore that he was a small boy once again, especially given they were in his old bedroom and they lay underneath all of those old posters from when he was a kid and in high school.
A part of her wanted to stroke his face, just to feel that smooth delicate skin and really find out if it was that smooth and soft as it looked. But she decided not to as he stirred a bit and rolled his head back a bit so she could only see the side of his face. She kept her eye on his chin and the delicate tight skin underneath; followed by the curvature of his lips, and then she fixated on his prominent nose and his high features, as stark and aged as stone in spite of his youth.
Young and old at the same time.
She nibbled on her bottom lip as he fetched up a sigh and held still right there next to her. She had kept her hand on something soft. It wasn't his hipbone.
"Alex!" Arlene called from the front of the house. "Alex! Samantha!"
Sam dared not move her hand lest he wake up to it instead of his mother's voice.
"Hey, kids!" Jerry followed up. Alex stirred again but he never awoke. Sam kept her lips pursed together, and she wondered if a certain small movement of her hand would do anything more for him.
"Breakfast is ready!" Arlene called out once again.
Once she had said that, Sam could feel the hunger within her as it gnawed away at the inside of her stomach. She wanted to move her hand but then again Alex still hadn't moved a single muscle. She held onto something soft and warm and she had no clue if it was actually his body or something else.
"Alexander Nathan Skolnick!" Arlene spat.
And he popped his eyes open at that, and he stared straight up above to the ceiling. Sam never moved a muscle.
"Is that your hand," he asked her in a flat tone of voice.
"I don't even know where my hand is," she confessed.
"Are you guys awake?" Arlene followed up.
"Yes, Ma!" Alex shouted which in turn made Sam grimace a bit. "Sorry," he told her in a low voice. "Anyways, that better be your hand."
"It's on your body, I know that much."
He rolled his head over the top of the pillow again, that time with squinted eyes.
"Ma?" Arlene laughed.
"Ma and Pa," Jerry called out, which in turn made Alex roll his eyes, but Sam giggled at them. She moved her hand and she realized that she had grabbed a handful of blanket, much to their confusion.
"What the hell was on me, then?" Alex asked her as she rolled out of bed.
"My arm, maybe?"
"Could be. But I could've sworn that it was your hand, though." He followed her out of bed and, even though she put her jeans back on, he kept his shirt off as he walked with her into the front of the house, much to Arlene's shock as she brought over the plates of fresh matzo and sausage patties.
"Alex! What're ya doin'? Put your shirt on!"
"He feels better without a shirt, Mrs. Skolnick," Sam told her as she took her seat next to Jerry at the kitchen table.
"I'm getting cold just looking at him, though," Arlene insisted as she handed Sam a cup of coffee. "How do you like your coffee, by the way?"
"A little bit of cream," she replied.
"Always start out with cream." She shook her head with a smile but then she looked on at Alex with a slight sneer on her face.
"It's fine, Mom, I promise," Alex pointed out as he ran his hands down his forearms. His pale skin seemed to glow under the kitchen lights as if made entirely of snow; once she took her spot across from him, he hunched his shoulders a bit. Indeed, it was rather cold in the house and the heater seemed to have a bit of trouble in picking up from underneath the metallic vent on the floor next to Jerry. His jet black hair flowed over his shoulders like little tentacles; his nipples tightened and goose pimples crossed over the skin on his waist. He was cold but Sam was sure that he wanted to be without a shirt, much like she wanted to be without a bra until they went out again.
"Alex—baby—go put a shirt on," Arlene encouraged him.
"Go brush your hair, too, son," Jerry told him, and Alex let out a sigh and then he stood up and ducked out of the kitchen.
"I also promised my mom I'd call her when I got here," Sam said once he left.
"Oh, yes, definitely do that!" Arlene told her. "Phone's right over there over the stove, bubbeleh."
Sam rounded the table and she stepped over to the little black telephone there on the wall next to the stove. She dialed her mother's number and she held the receiver to her ear. One ring, two rings—
"Hello, hello?" Esmé answered in a broken voice.
"Hi, Mom."
"Oh! Sam! Thank heaven! I was just starting to get worried about you and Alex because you hadn't called me."
"We got snowed in up at Tahoe the night before last," she explained, "like we got to Carson City and then I took him up to the southern edge of the lake and it started snowing. It was nighttime by then, too, so we just buttoned up for the night and waited for the snow to stop. When it did, we went up to Incline Village for breakfast and now we're at his parents' house in Berkeley. Spent the night here last night."
"Oh, good! Thank heaven. What matters is you kids are safe and both are in one piece. Also, I got a letter from Joey believe it or not. Just last night."
"Really?"
"Yeah, he brought it over to me, like he must've seen me from across the room—we were in the grocery store in Long Beach."
"Greg brought it to you," she said aloud.
"Yeah—and Joey said he's going to meet you down at the harbor when you get down here again, whenever that may be."
"I dunno, to be honest with you, Mom, because I have no idea what Alex and his parents are going to do."
"Oh, no, wait, it says he's going to meet you there later today."
"Today?"
"Yeah. No idea what time exactly, but he did say the day after New Year's, though."
Sam fetched up a sigh. On one hand, she wanted Joey to have at least called her about it. But then again, he didn't know where she had gone off to and he didn't know where Alex and his parents lived there in Berkeley, either.
She bode her mother farewell for the time being, and she returned to Jerry and Arlene there at the table.
"My mom told me that I have a little something waiting for me down in Long Beach," she told them, "which means I have to be down there today."
"Aw, you're leaving us, bubbeleh?" Arlene looked hurt by that.
"I'm afraid so. And what does that mean, too?"
"What, 'bubbeleh'?"
"'Little doll', right?" Alex joined in from behind them; Sam thought about Belinda and if she and Marla had gone back home at that moment.
"Yeah! I used to call him that when he was little, because he was just this little doll of a little boy."
Alex took his seat right next to Sam, now wrapped up in a long black shirt with a white square on his chest: it looked as though he had attempted to brush his hair but he never went further than his bangs, which started to grow out rather long: the bottoms brushed upon that sharp brow to where the longest tips began to obscure his eyes and make them appear even deeper than before.
"Have you heard of Run DMC?" he asked her as he gestured to his chest.
"I have now," she told him.
"Oh, man! You've got so much to learn, Samantha."
"So much to learn and so much to give, too," Jerry followed up to that.
"Give it all to our boy over here," Arlene chimed in with a hearty little chuckle.
"Oy vey," Alex muttered as he took another bite of fresh matzo ball.
Sam stayed there and relished her cup of coffee and her spot at the table between Jerry and Alex. But she knew that she would have to pick up her things again and head on over to the airport, and by Alex's direction no less.
By around ten o'clock in the morning, and a few holes had broken through on the fog bank over the Bay Area, Alex changed back into a fresh pair of jeans and Sam had put her bra back on, albeit in the bathroom. Even from the other side of the house, she caught the sound of Alex's voice in the kitchen. Even with his parents, he still stood out like a sore thumb and he had the big booming voice to boot on top of it. Indeed, even when he stood next to his band mates, he seemed to dwarf them, especially Chuck who loomed up close to his height.
But then she thought about Joey and the fact that he had confessed to her even through a drunken stupor.
She wondered what he had in store for her as she headed out of the bathroom and made her way back to Alex's room for her purse, and then she walked back up the hall, towards the front foyer for her shoes and her jacket. Alex glanced over at her.
"Oh, there she is," he said in a low voice, and he turned to front door for the same things as well. He took his seat next to her there on that little velvet bench and they laced up together. He put on his jacket and he reached into his pocket for the car keys.
"Come back any time, bubbeleh," Arlene told her, and she put her arms around her.
"I'm sure I will!" Sam declared with a big bold laugh.
"Be safe and give your mother a hug for us," Jerry added as he embraced her as well.
"I shall, Mr. Skolnick," she promised; he put his arm around Alex at the same time.
"Li'l group hug!" he chuckled. "I'll be back."
"You behave," Arlene advised him in a low voice, and he made a soft little whimper at that.
Alex led Sam back outside to the car and that time, he climbed in behind the wheel.
"I really do like your parents, Alex," she told him once they got rolling.
"I just—I feel like they were putting me on the spot the whole time," he confessed.
"In your defense, they kinda were," she said, "like especially when we were in the back room and you were showing me that riff, and you couldn't finish it."
"Yeah, and I don't like being interrupted, either," he added.
"I still like them, though. I like your dad, especially. I mean, he told me to come to him for anything school related. I like that."
"Thank you for that," he told her. "When I was growing up, a lot of people didn't, because they're New Yorkers and they're scary smart collegiate professors and everybody thought their raising my brother and me like that screwed us up."
"Hey, at least they aren't from a strict religion," she pointed out, which in turn made him chuckle.
"No, they aren't! I'd rather they be fully educated anyways." He paused for a moment as they pulled up to a stoplight.
"By the way, are you thinking of continuing on with school? 'Cause—it looks like you didn't finish."
"I didn't, no." She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't really know, if I'm honest with you, Alex."
The light turned green and they fell back into silence all the way over to the airport, all for the next flight out to Los Angeles. A quick one way ticket and the two of them walked together to the gate, both of them as silent as ever. It would be another minute before the gate opened and thus Sam turned to him and the gentle look on his face, the most gentle she had seen him.
He put his arms around her and held her close to his slender body. Still very soft from the two nights together.
"Give your mom a hug for me," he told her in a hushed voice.
"Gladly," she vowed to him. More people congregated behind them in anticipation of the flight.
"Also," he added, "um—look for our last name in your mom's mailbox around the—middle of the month, give or take."
"Oh?"
He showed her a shy, small smile in response to that. Sam stood still before him, slightly befuddled, but then she realized what he was telling her.
"I'll be on the lookout," she promised him, and she wondered what it was exactly that Joey had in store for her.
"You better get going," he encouraged her in a low voice, and she turned her attention to the gate behind her. Everyone behind them proceeded to board the plane.
"February, you said?" she asked him.
"Right on the first! Please join us."
"I'll see you soon," she told him.
"You, too," he said. "Safe travels." For a second, she swore that he winked at her. But then she picked up her things and headed over to the gate, and she boarded the plane with everyone else. She peered over her shoulder at the sight of him there with his hands tucked in his jeans pockets and the somber look on his face. The tuft of gray hair stood high over the right side of his brow like a little icicle. Those eyes locked onto her one last time before she turned away and headed down the terminal corridor; she then boarded onto the plane in silence.
And that whole entire time she never came across her father anywhere in the Bay Area: yet another thing she had to address to her mother once she was back down south.
She took that flight headed for Los Angeles once more, and soon thereafter she would board the boat down to Santa Catalina Island. She was bound to return to New York at one point regardless of anything else simply to visit Joey in upstate and to lay on her couch once again.
Over the course of that ninety minute flight, she thought about Alex's behavior over the course of their entire trip. It all worked out so perfectly with them even when she intended on nothing more than to improvise on it all. That was it right there: her first window into Alex and her confirmation on what Louie had said to her on the ride down the California coast. He had shown a new side to him, but she swore that she had a long way to go with him.
Add to this, she had a long way to go with Joey as well. She gazed out the window to the snow covered mountain tops down below: on the other side was the vast stretch of desert that seemed to go on out East for eternity. She and Alex had rode up that desert together all alone: on the other side of the plane, even though she couldn't see it from her seat, the Coastal Range and the coastline itself loomed down below the plane.
An hour later, and she landed just outside of Long Beach, where Joey himself awaited her there outside of the gate. His brown eyes appeared a bit lazier than usual but he showed her that familiar lopsided grin once she rounded the corner.
She hurried up to him with her arms wide open.
They embraced each other and he planted his lips onto hers.
"God, I missed you," he confessed to her.
"Where's Krista?" she asked him in a near whisper.
"She went back home to Kansas City. I think she got the message." He flashed her a wink at that.
And with nothing more to add, he led her out of the airport and back over to the docks for the next large boat over to Catalina. It was a cold, blustery day there in Long Beach, such that he lingered closer to her as they awaited their ride: the gray waters out before them chopped and shortened up with the cold winter winds around them.
She could feel his fingers right on the seat of her pants, and she showed him a mischievous smile as a result.
Indeed, once they boarded the boat, he kept one hand on her knee the whole twenty two miles. At one point, he slid his hand up the inside of her thigh, and she playfully slapped the back of his hand at the feeling. He showed her another lopsided grin at that.
Within time, the harbor outside of Avalon emerged in their view: all the usual little boats and yachts around the place had docked up for the New Year and also for the storm that had passed through. Esmé awaited them at the far end of the dock, wrapped up in a little sweater and with her cat eye glasses perched upon the bridge of her nose all the while.
"There are my babies," she declared once they came within earshot; she embraced Sam so tight that she swore that she would cut off her circulation. Joey let Sam take the front seat and they drove back to the house.
Once they had made their way inside, Esmé continued on back to her bedroom for something, but that left Sam and Joey some time alone together.
"Alone at last," he said as she guided him into her bedroom. She nudged the door shut, but she left it ajar a bit by a sliver the width of her pink nail.
"So how was your road trip?" he asked her once he peeled off his jacket, followed by his shirt. He tossed both on the chair in the corner of the room, and then he lunged for the bed.
"Exciting and quite the adventure," she told him as she took off her jacket and her shirt. She unhooked her bra and left it on the floor next to her feet.
"An adventure like what we're about to have?" he asked her in a husky voice; she climbed up next to him but she never moved any closer to him. There had to be something here, something more just to get her going.
"Joey, we're in my bed," she whispered to him.
"So? Let's get it on, Sam I am. I should tell you—State of Euphoria went gold."
"Oh—Oh, Joey. Mister Lead Singer."
She set one hand on the side of her and then she lowered herself down on top of him, and she placed her lips onto his dark ones. As smooth and silken as molten chocolate still: he tasted like peppermint and she knew that he had brushed his teeth just prior to her landing. A little tip of his tongue onto her own and she wondered where they would go from there. She had already put her lips onto his length when in England, but there was something more here. Something a little more homely.
"Sam?" Esmé called from the front of the house, which in turn brought the two of them to a complete standstill.
"Yes?" Sam replied back to her.
"Could you come in here for a second?"
She fetched up a sigh and she climbed off of Joey. With a bit of haste, she put her bra and her shirt back on over her body, and she headed into the kitchen to see what was the matter. Esmé struggled to remove the cork from a brand new bottle of sparkling cider, and thus Sam decided to help her. Though it was dry, she hoped that Joey wouldn't smell it from the next room, but at that point, her mother had poured her a glass of that cider and offered her a slice of pie with her lunch.
She thought of Alex all the while and since she knew that she hadn't eaten since that morning, she took the glass and the pie and took her seat there at the bar. Soon, Joey joined them and he, too, received a plate of pie and some cider himself.
"My little girl's actually going to be twenty four in a few days time," Esmé remarked with a wistful tone to her voice.
The same age as Cliff, and just like with Cliff, she, too, hadn't been touched between the legs herself either. All the little glances and glimpses from Joey made her wonder if they would go any further than that over the course of the next few weeks.
But they never did: given the extent of Anthrax's tour, Joey returned back home to New York the next morning after he had spent the night with them. Much like Alex, he took to the comfy couch overnight, and Sam and Esmé saw him off on the next flight out to Anthrax's next stop in Houston.
Sam's twenty fourth birthday in the middle of the month came with the next round of winter's rain as it lasted the full week, from Martin Luther King, Jr. Day all the way to that weekend when the country watched the inauguration of Bush. The whole entire time she watched it on the little television in the guest room, she thought of Alex and the package that he and his parents had sent her: a black fedora with a white ribbon around the base of the crown and a little black and red feather on one side. Alongside it was a handmade card from them, pieced together with colorful cardstock and some ribbon. On the inside, in neat penmanship and bright red sparkling ink, it read: