What do you do when a teenage movie star makes it seem as if you've kidnapped him? After working two summers at his father's health club as a towel boy, Peter Fisk saved enough money to visit California. He literally runs into Lance Hardwood in his...
He was sitting on the balcony. He'd mixed himself a vodka and coke from the minibar. I sat down in the chair on the other side of him, and we stayed like that for a while. I wasn't sure how to begin, but I knew in my heart that it was up to me. This was a conversation that was going to be very hard for him. For the both of us.
"Tell me about him," I said, as gently as I could. Not wanting to know how wonderful Luke was – although he had to be, if Derek loved him. Not wanting to be compared, because of course I'd be the lesser person.
"That first day we met," he said, "Luke and I got into a fight. He wanted the top bunk, but I'd gotten there first. I started climbing up there, and that little shrimp yanked my 180 pounds of muscle off the ladder, and I fell on the ground. I beat him bloody, with our platoon egging me on. I stopped, and he looked resigned – I mean, he was 5'-5" and I'm 6' tall and built. He had to have known that was how it was going to end. I put my stuff away, and he was dabbing his face and nose with a wet towel. I asked him why did he fight me? And what was so important about him getting the top bunk?
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
He looked at me with his baby blues and asked me 'if Life had ever surprised me?' Because, he said, there was a chance he might have beaten me. 'If you don't try to beat the odds, you never will.' And he'd heard from a cousin who was in the Marines that the top bunks get bothered less than the bottom ones. Plus, you had a better chance of being left alone when you wanted some 'private exercise' and winked at me. I gave him the top bunk, of course, but on one condition."
"What was that?" I'd asked, smiling in spite of myself.
"That he'd tell me whenever he planned on exercising, so I could stand guard. One thing led to another. Mostly it was little kindnesses – helping each other out, going to movies or bookstores on free days. Being Big brothers to the young recruits whenever we moved up in rank – that's how we discovered that we both liked kids. Then there was the first time we kissed. I mean, mutual jerking could be easily ignored – two horny buds giving each other a helping hand. Happens all the time, but you don't talk or write about it."
"But we went off-base for a Thanksgiving dinner at Denny's in San Diego. And then spent the night at a LaQuinta Inn. I'm telling you: few people can kiss better than Luke Stoneridge."
We were quiet for a minute before he said, "You, for instance."
I wasn't prepared for that. Then it hit me. "If Luke's alive...if he's okay, I mean...I don't want to stand in the way of that dream you had. You know, the farm and the adopted kids. And if I were Luke...which I'm not...if he feels the way about you that I do, well...he'll want you back. He'd probably even fight me for you. I don't want to lose you, now that I can see clearly."
Derek stood up, all six feet of him, towering over me. "Peter Fisk, if Luke is alive and decides to fight you for me, what will you do? If Luke's missing an arm, or a leg, or is paralyzed and in a wheelchair, or blind – and he wants to fight you for me, would you? Knowing his reasoning when he chose to fight me?"
Have you ever been at the edge of a cliff, with a ravenous monster behind you and certain death ahead of you? What do you choose? And yet, and yet...you face your fear and choose the answer that came to you first.
"I'd fight him, and hope the odds are in my favor."
"Oh, Pete," Derek said, a tear starting to fall, "He would love you fiercely if he met you, but not half as fiercely as I do. That is absolutely the right answer!"
He sat down slowly, facing me. "I want you to know that I felt him die, days before his family was notified. It was as if there was a note missing in all my favorite songs, a small hole in my heart that I knew was his absence. I don't know what the future's gonna bring, but that hole is slowly being filled by you, and that note isn't a note, it's a sound made by my heart every time you smile at me."
He drank down the remainder of his vodka and coke. "You're awfully quiet, Devil Pup."
"I never told you or even Lance, but – that day in Vegas when you got in the elevator? James told me to open the door that time, even though I didn't want to. If James is Luke..."
Derek chuckled, and then began to grin. "If James is Luke, then he was giving us both a gift. Like I said, he'd love you if he were alive to meet you. As for this AI hocus-pocus, I don't know anything about it. If James is a part of Luke, would it bother you if I asked to be given this AI, as I was the executor of his estate?"
"James is unlike any AI I've ever read about. Everyone on Team Pete, me included, think of him as a friend. No, I'd like that."
Derek stood up again, lifted me bodily out of my chair, and said, "Time for bed, pup. I could use a lullaby, if you know any."
Believe it or not, I tucked him in. Seated next to him, I caressed his fuzzy head and sang Billy Joel's 'Goodnight My Angel.' He was sound asleep when I finished. It didn't take me long to drift off as well. If Luke was watching us from on high, I was glad knowing that, in Derek's heart, Luke approved of me.
