by Westwind
September 2001
01/09/00 (Friday) Today I start to keep a journal. Adam bought my first one. I told him it had to have lines, so he got me one with my clan symbol on the cover and page after page of lines. He always says that writing in his journal keeps him sane.
It's been half an hour and I haven' t written anything yet. It's harder that it looks. He's always scribbling about something. I mean he writes in that thing for ---oh hell
04/09/00 (Monday) Or maybe it's the fifth already. What a day this has been. I know that we don't celebrate Labor Day; we're not Americans after all. And you could say that we don't labor either. But Joe threw a barbecue--beer, hamburgers, ribs, and corn on the cob, potato salad and more beer. It was sunny and warm, all in all a beautiful day.
Let's see. Who was there? Me and Adam of course, Joe and his crew from the bar, some watchers who had been Adam's friends as well as Joe's, a handful of people from the surrounding community, Adam's friends from the University, and Ann and Mary too. There were about thirty people in all. We started drinking as soon as we got there. I think Adam knew everyone. He was drinking beer and laughing. In fact, with beer bottle firmly in hand, he even took over grilling the ribs, hamburgers, and corn. I guess Joe had been standing up for too long.
Everyone had a good time and everyone ate too much. And everyone had a few too many beers. I saw a version of "Adam" that I had never seen before. I've known him for, what, nearly five years and this was the first time I ever saw "Adam the Mortal". He is such a joyful creature. He makes me thankful that he is mine. All the shadows and calculations just drop away; he made everyone feel welcome. Joe was ecstatic. He had his boy back again. And I got to take him home.
11/09/00 (Monday) I saw Bob from the Labor Day party. He is one of Adam's running buddies from the university. He's nearly a head shorter than I am, but built like a greyhound. In fact, he looks like Adam, but without the nose and about five eight. He mentioned something about the big race coming up in October. I managed to not ask 'what race'. What is Adam up to now? A race to the bar for a beer I could see, but a race race? He does run sometimes with me, but a 'big race' sounds like more than our few miles in the morning.
12/09/00 (Tuesday) Adam says I should write about the everyday things not just the exceptional events. I've just gotten where I can write anything; now he wants me to write about nothing. Today was Tuesday. It was a fine day; the sky stayed clear until afternoon then clouds came in from the west. I ran in the morning without Adam. He had to go to the university early. He gets up at 6:30 to leave to get ready for his first class, bitching all the way. It's really kind of amusing. Anyway, I came back and did katas, then got some breakfast. After that I made some phone calls, then settled down on the couch to study some antique catalogs. I ate an apple for lunch, then went on the internet to check on some property.
Adam brought the makings of Chinese for supper. That was great. It took over an hour to make the meal because I kept interrupting him for kisses--wonderful, sensuous, deep, beer-flavored kisses. What we ate was definitely Chinese, but had no name. Adam has spent so much time in China. He takes a little of this and a smattering of that with just a smidge of something else. It's always good, but is as unique as he is.
Ah Adam, how I love you.
13/09/00 (Wednesday) I tried to talk to Adam about the race. No luck. He knows he can't evade the subject forever; I can see it in his eyes. I don't know why he doesn't want me to know about it. I called the university today and asked Bob to tell me the details. I just told him that Adam liked to keep secrets, but that I had to plan a trip. I can lie too. When he told me it was a hundred miles, I laughed. Bob said it was no joke; Adam had run the last twenty-five miles with him last year; Bob would do the same for Adam this year. I hung up the phone, confounded by the thought of Adam running one hundred miles.
15/09/00 (Friday) Okay, I got the details of the race from Adam. I seduced him. I fixed a meal that I knew he would love: prawns grilled in lemon sauce, wild rice, a salad of apples and carrots. We talked of things that would interest him. I played music that he liked, even if it did make my teeth hurt. I didn't wash the dishes immediately, just stacked them in the sink and walked back into the living area. Adam was looking at the selection of CD's. He glanced over at me with eyes almost squinted closed, "What are you doing? Trying to seduce me?"
"Yes, I'm trying to find out about that damned race. When is it?"
Adam nearly fell down laughing. "It's October 14 and 15. And you're not invited. It's going to take effort and concentration and I can't do either with you there. You're too much of a distraction."
I was stunned and without an answer. "All right, I'm going to San Francisco for same antique auctions that weekend. I won't be here anyway." I was hurt and I brooded. Adam was very amused.
It's one month until the race.
We ended up in bed anyway. We always end up in bed.
16/09/00 (Saturday) We both had errands to run, so I suggested we meet for lunch at an Italian place that was a favorite of his. I got there first; I had one glass of wine then another. He still wasn't here; I was really worried. After an hour I decided to backtrack on the route Adam must have taken from the university. I was frantic. At last I saw his truck parked with a flat tire. No Adam.
I got out and started to look around. I finally spotted something down an alley nearby. The place was trashed. The glass was out of all the windows. And the whole alley looked like a blowtorch had gone over it, with one brick wall was even partially down. A very large quickening had taken place here--a very large and possibly a very old quickening.
I searched frantically down the alley. There were no sign of bodies with or without heads. If the victor was gone and the watchers had cleaned up the body, why was Adam's truck still outside? I sat on my haunches, frozen for a moment. He couldn't be dead. Surely I would have felt something. I felt suddenly sick; my stomach turned inside out and I vomited till it hurt.
I don't know what made me try--maybe just a feeling. I dug into the mound of debris. As I removed the bricks, I saw signs of blood. A little deeper and I could see one long, lean hand sticking out of the debris. My poor baby, everything was smashed. His face had been somewhat protected by his arm, but the back and left side of his head had taken the brunt of a large mass of bricks. It was indented. I went to the car and got a blanket. When I got back, he stirred briefly then died again.
It seemed best to get him out of there, so I wrapped him in the blanket, picked up his sword and moved him to the t-bird. He made an awkward burden, all arms and legs; the management of their length broke my heart. I kept glancing at him as I raced through the streets of Seacouver. I brought the car to a stop and was out the door before it finished rolling. I lifted his corpse out of the car. There were rusty red roses blooming all over the blanket so he had been conscious for periods of time the trip home.
I took him inside using the back way. I put him down gently on the bathroom floor, while I ran hot water in the bathtub. Then I had to remove his clothes. My God, it was awful. The clothing stuck to him and was sometimes pushed inside his body by the impact of the bricks. I used his stiletto to cut the clothing loose and to ,sometimes, cut it out of the flesh. As I finished undressing him, my hand accidentally touched his skull. I could feel the bones grate against each other. Oh my poor love, will you ever be the same.
I bathed him and let him rest in the hot water. I thought for a few minutes that he was coming back, but he kept dying. I replenished the hot water again and again. As his wounds healed and the bones set, I could use the wash rag to gently rub circles of stimulation over his whole body. After a couple of hours of this, I got him out of the water and wrapped him in a bath sheet and took him to bed.
My God, it was just dark. It felt like days had passed or like it was just a few minutes. I spent the night talking to him when he seemed to be awake and massaging, patting, stroking anything that I could do to stimulate him. And still he died.
17/09/00 (Sunday) Adam has stopped the dying. The shape of his head is back to normal, though I wonder if it's still a little flat on one side. All the other bones have healed, including his spine. And the cuts have all closed up and healed over without a trace, but he just lies there-- sometimes with his eyes open, sometimes with them closed. He doesn't want to talk to me or to anyone. I finally called Joe to ask him if he knew what had happened. He hung up the phone and was here in record time. Sometimes I think that Joe loves Adam best. I know that's not fair. I'm just tired and worried.
Joe reported that there had been a quickening. According to the other man's watcher it was an immortal who called himself Jack Work, first death about fifteen hundred years ago. Adam had just been a chance find. Work was of medium height with dark hair and light blue eyes. He attacked Adam without warning; his watcher said it was part of his pattern. Attack the young ones who apparently had little chance of beating him. Adam dispatched him with no trouble at all. Mr. Work must have been very surprised. The alley they were in confined and intensified the quickening. The watcher was across the street so his telephoto lens worked great. And the building came down on young Adam Pierson. The Watcher cleaned up Work's body, but didn't find any trace of Adam. They decided he must have left.
I could think of a dozen questions, but that was all Joe got over the telephone. Adam was outed. If there was ever any doubt of his immortality, it was over. He had held his own with a hunter. Joe would face some tough questions about his relationship with Adam and why he hadn't known. Or why he did know and kept it from the Watchers. He left to see if he could do a little damage control.
I was doing some deep massage on Adam--start at one end and work my way down to the other, then turn him over and do it again. I'd been at it for hours. I was working on his head when he opened his eyes and really looked at me. He looked so bewildered. I called his name over and over again. There was absolutely no response; he was hearing me, but he seemed not to be able to answer. I resumed the deep massage. I couldn't keep trying to make him talk.
I must have fallen asleep. I don't remember stopping the massage, but it was after dark now. I started to get up, but Adam had his left arm and leg over me; I was afraid to move and wake him. But my need for a bathroom and secondarily for the kitchen became very urgent. I tried to shift out from under him, but he grabbed me reflexively. I started talking to him quietly, as I eased out of the bed.
He looked blankly at me then he smiled--the most loving, perfect smile I have ever seen. A smile that was without intelligence. By now I had to go to the bathroom. I said as much then hurtled from the room. When I got back, he was asleep. He looked so peaceful. I still didn't know if there were going to be any deficits. And if the deficits were that bad, I knew that I should take Adam's head; I just didn't know if I could.
I went to the kitchen and started to fix a meal. I heated some chicken soup for Adam and got eggs and cheese out to cook later. I put coffee and water on for tea, then I went and sat by Adam and held his hand. As if aware of my presence, he started to mutter and shake. Gradually his muttering became clearer. He was repeating Kronos name over and over. I felt my heart catch in my throat. Had he gone back in time in response to the injury? Or had he just been overwhelmed by the memories?
When Adam finally woke up, he seemed a perfect mix of bewilderment and of shyness. He went to the bathroom then came to sit down at the table. I brought the soup, coffee for me and tea for him. He looked down in puzzlement at the bowl of soup. Something wasn't tracking. I picked up the spoon and fed him a bite, then another. He opened his mouth for the next bite so I fed him the rest of the soup. Then I offered the tea mug.
I felt something in my heart just turn over as he sipped his tea. I knew, or at least I hoped, that this was just a few hours of need; that I wouldn't have to do this kind of care-taking for long. But I loved being able to do for him like this. It satisfied an urge I didn't know I had. My irascible, impossible love--he normally was prickly with independence and I hoped he would be again. I knew that I would never be able to kill him.
Adam soon grew sleepy so I put him to bed. That began the pattern for the day and night that followed. He gradually began to feed himself and spend marginally more time awake. He still didn't have much to say. I don't know whether it was 'will not' or 'can not' though. I missed the Adam of this morning, the needy Adam who looked to me for everything.
18/09/00 (Monday) I called the dean of Adam's department to tell him that Adam had the flu and would not be in that week. He is most definitely sick in bed. It takes a long time for an immortal to completely heal after an injury like that. Adam was making tremendous progress. He was moving around the loft; he was beginning to eat enough for a normal immortal, but not enough for one trying to come back from that kind of injury. He still wasn't talking much, either, but that would come--I hoped.
Bob Matthews came by. It was the first time Adam said more than word or two. He was on the couch covered with a blanket. He said "Hey Bob, what have I missed?" His voice was very faint. Bob would have no problem believing he had the flu.
"I just came by to see if Duncan's treating you all right."
"He's been good to me." My eyes started to sting and I had to walk into the kitchen to keep them from seeing me crying. Bob left soon after that. By then I was calm enough to walk him to the door.
"Is he really all right. He seems very weak."
"He's just not used to being sick. He's usually so healthy; this has hit him very hard."
"You take care of him. Tell him if he can't make the race this year, I'll run it with him next year."
Adam was asleep again. I went to the phone and called Joe. He might be in Watcher custody or he might be free. I knew he'd be here if he could. Until now, I just hadn't had the time to call him. The phone rang several times with no answer. I guess that tells me too much. I left a message on his answering machine.
I made too much noise and Adam is up. I asked him if he would like to go to my island for a few days. He didn't answer me, but put his arms around me and held on.
19/09/00 (Tuesday) It was raining when we started but turned to drizzle as we went along. Adam slept most of the way there. He is getting better and better. Each day is a giant step forward. At least I know his hesitancy in speech is a case of 'will not'. Maybe he will talk to me about what is troubling him. Who am I kidding? I'll settle for a few jokes and a lot of sarcasm.
We unloaded the truck and moved the stuff to the island. It took about an hour to get everything opened and fresh linens for the bed. I said, "How about some lunch."
"That sounds good. Do you need some help?" More words altogether than I'd heard in four days.
"I'll just throw a salad together and make some sandwiches. Why don't you walk around the cabin and see that everything is all right."
When I finished the food I took it out on the deck. He was on the steps going down to the water. I walked up and put the tray down and handed him a beer. "Thank you." He took a long pull from the bottle. "I know it's been hard for you." I made a noncommittal noise. "It's just that he looked like Kronos. I know he wasn't, but he looked like him. No scar, you know?" I thought of all the things I might say, but I took him in my arms and held him. I've forgiven him for everything he did and everything he might do. It doesn't matter to me. But he carries the guilt of those times with him always.
We eventually finished lunch. I got up to get more beer. When I came back, he had curled up in the space where I had been sitting and gone to sleep.
20/09/00 (Wednesday) We ran together this morning. He wasn't trying hard and still he outdid me. I guess he is still going to run in that race. We came back and ate breakfast. We were just lazing around in the living room, when he turned and put his head in my lap. My hands drifted to his hair, dark and soft. Adam turned his head and nuzzled against my crotch; my penis became very interested. I pulled him up to my level and kissed him. "If this is what you want?"
"This is what I want."
I took him in my arms and held him. Last Saturday morning was the last time I had touched him with something other than care-taking in my heart. Now I felt such a mix of love and lust, I had to be careful not to just explode. My hands were busy rubbing his back. His hands found their way under my shirt and began to tweak my nipples. I wanted this time to be slow and thoughtful.
His hands slowly stilled as I undressed him. I worshipped him with my mouth. Tasting his precum, I moved on. Up his belly, I paused to taste his left nipple; it was my favorite because it was the one over his heart.
Then I began to kiss him--long sweetness-drugged beer-flavored kisses. I felt him begin to writhe beneath me. I reached down and brought our two penises together. I gradually began to move keeping an easy, steady pace. As he moved more and more urgently against me, suddenly to my surprise, he came. I tried to disengage and let him go, but his hand closed over mine and he kept moving.
I hurried my climax. When I came down he was looking at me with so much love in his eyes that it humbled me. Maybe he couldn't or didn't say it that often. But I never doubted his love. And it was all right there.
21/09/00 (Thursday) Adam says that the entries don't have to be long; just write some thing of significance. I said' "What if there isn't anything of significance."
He said real snarky, "Just use your imagination."
"And what about the plain ordinary things." I said. He stalked out of the room. I have never been so glad of a spat. He was himself. Now isn't that fatuous.
22/09/00 (Friday) In the morning we made love--long, slow, passionate love. Cuddly love. When he's like this I could just eat him alive. And I did.
23/09/00 (Saturday) One week ago today, a hunter attacked Adam. I think physically that he has recovered completely. But the nightmares are worse than usual. Last night he called for Kronos continuously. I didn't know whether to wake him or not.
I got up and walked to the window and looked out at the lake. I know Kronos was an integral part of his life for a thousand years, but Adam can't talk about him when he's awake. So far I've just tried to ignore it. That's how I live with it. Just leave it alone.
24/09/00 (Sunday) We're going back to Seacouver today. Everything was ready at the cabin. I walked out onto the deck and saw him with his arms wrapped around himself; he was standing halfway between the stairs and the water. I went down to him and put my arms around him and just held on. My penis filled and nudged up against him, but he seemed so distant. I moved so that I was no longer pressing into his ass. I just wanted to comfort him and my body betrayed me.
He shifted so that I was leaning against his back and now I was firmly pressed against him. We stood like that for a while then he turned and fell to his knees. He undid my pants and freed my penis. As he looked up, his eyes were pure green. He began to worship me with his mouth. Feather light puffs of breath alternate with deep throating. His tongue was like a living thing travelling over my organ. Five thousand years of experience and it was all mine. Meanwhile his hands traveled over my back and my ass. I came with a rush that surprised me.
He wouldn't let me touch him. He's so skittish about everything. I love him so; I just wanted to do something for him. But he went into the cabin for the bags. I didn't know what to do.
25/09/00 (Monday) I know that something is troubling him. It could be the hunter's resemblance to Kronos; or it could have been his slow recovery. Or something else I don't know anything about. But something is bothering him. I wish I knew what it was. But if I've learned anything it is that Adam will tell me when he feels all right with it, not before. Or he won't tell me at all; sometimes he just can't talk about it. Like Kronos.
26/09/00 (Tuesday) I know why Adam was getting up at 6:30. He was going to the track to practice with the university track club. His first class is at 10:00. He is devious. All that grousing about getting up: it was a smoke screen, another layer to throw me off the scent. I don't know why he feels that he has to keep this secret. I didn't even know about the race last year.
27/09/00 (Wednesday) We went out to dinner with Joe. He had just gotten back from Watcher Headquarters in Europe. He wouldn't tell us what had happened, but he did say that Adam had a watcher now-a beginning watcher for a new immortal. Adam was still chuckling about that one when we went home. He was amused when I had expected him to be angry.
So far the Watchers seem to believe that Adam is a new immortal who just happened to kill an accomplished hunter with hundreds of years of experience. They're going to eventually figure this out. But maybe it will be after we have moved on. I wonder what names we will use? I have to believe that we will be together. He means everything to me.
28/09/00 (Thursday) I caught Adam when he first got out of the shower and backed him against a wall, went to my knees in front of him, and opened his robe. I sucked strongly until he came. Then got up and walked out the door. Payback for Sunday.
29/09/00 (Friday) Everything is lined up for my trip to San Francisco. It looks like I will be there a week looking at the merchandise to be sold then going to the auctions themselves. I'm really sorry that Adam isn't coming with me.
30/09/00 (Saturday) I worked at household chores. Adam made himself scarce. It was such a beautiful day that I decided to go over to see Adam; he was at the university track running. It's just two weeks till the big race and he was due to run twenty miles. I went out to the track at noon to take him to lunch.
He was just finishing up and looked magnificent. Wearing a pair of running shorts and a loose shirt and with every muscle clearly defined, he ran across the finish line not even breathing hard. The temperature was in the sixties, perfect for running.
As he walked a lap of the track, I hurried to catch up with him. "I guess you're not going to San Francisco with me." Adam just laughed. "You look great, good enough to eat." I slung my arm across his shoulders.
"Oh Mac, is that a definite invitation. Because that one I can accept."
01/10/00 (Sunday) It looks like something written for Adam's computer. We took the day off; went out for brunch; walked along the waterfront. It was a beautiful day. We stopped at a beergarten and sampled their wares. Then came a street vendor for gourmet hotdogs--if any hotdog can be considered 'gourmet". Then more beer from a kiosk. Finally came some ice cream. Beer and ice cream--that's Adam. We stepped into the shelter of a recessed door and made-out. It was sublime.
02/10/00 (Monday) I asked Adam to authenticate an artifact for me. One of the Minoan 'Mother Goddess' figurines from Crete, it was offered for sale at an astronomical price. I had a client who was acting for an anonymous museum. It would be the coup of a lifetime if it turned out that the goddess was real. Museums all over the world had withdrawn a number of them from exhibitions because they had proved to be fakes.
I had asked Adam if he had been on Crete during the time period in question. "I lived there off and on for over two thousand years. It was a very civilized place. They had running water before the Romans did."
I laughed. "You define civilized by whether they had running water--the running water index." He smirked.
03/10/00 (Tuesday) I brought the artifact to him; we needed to be alone so he could talk freely. He examined the figurine carefully for half an hour. Then looked up at me and said, "It's an exceptionally good fake but still a fake. Look here, it's made of several small pieces of ivory the way it should be but," taking his penlight out and shining it down inside the statuette, "when they dipped it in acid to make it look old, they left this ledge between these pieces of the ivory. You can see the marks of the saw--a very modern coping saw with a distinctive kerf. They were depending on the acid to destroy this. I don't know why they didn't see it. Maybe exposing it to acid again would have marked it too deeply."
"Ok, write a short description of what you found. You know how academics love paper. I don't think I would ever have seen that ledge; it's so small. It's a shame this thing is a fake; it would have made his reputation. Are you going to sign your name? It didn't take special knowledge of the past to find that ledge."
"Why not. This could be the start of my next career."
04/10/00 (Wednesday) My friend was so impressed by the 'appraisal' that Adam gave him, that he asked him to look at a few more artifacts.
After his classes were over for the day, I picked Adam up and took him to the biggest bookstore in town. I loved going with him to any bookstore. Sometimes he lets himself go and talks to me about the past. Not every time though, but the times he did were rare and precious. We wandered around and gradually wandered apart.
We met about an hour later. I had picked up two books and Adam had picked out seven including one that was six inches thick. I paid for all of them while he stood off to one side with his nose (and what a nose) in one of my books. In the time it took to check out, he got about one third of the way through it. He loves books; I think that's what attracted me in the first place--that and a long lean body with the most kissable mouth in creation.
I asked him if he wanted to go out to eat. "I'd rather go home and eat pasta and read my books and fuck." So that's what we did. I made penne pasta with marinara sauce, a salad with among other things celery and walnuts (I wouldn't call it a salad, myself.) and a bowl of large jonathon apples to snack on while we cuddled on the couch.
We sat on the couch while he drank beer and I drank wine and read our books. I read one of mine while he read all seven of his, including the monster. After a while between bites of an apple, he started to read to me from the book about Minoan civilization. It didn't matter to me what he was saying--just the sound of his voice was an aphrodisiac.
He gave me increasingly serious apple-flavored kisses. He kissed all over my face and across my chin line and down my chest. Then he took time to worship at my navel. He engulfed my erection and began to suckle. Time slipped its leash and went howling after the moon. Oh shit! And I'm writing in ink!
05/10/00 (Thursday) My friend sent several pieces of Cycladian art over. I moved the cases into the vacant area on another floor of the dojo that Adam calls his 'office'. It's full of books piled everywhere and a piece of plywood on two sawhorses that he calls his 'desk'. (I'm going to have shelves built and buy him the finest computer desk I can find when I get back from San Francisco.) Adam says he'll get to it tomorrow afternoon.
06/10/00 (Friday) I found him in his 'office'. Everything was unpacked and lined up on his 'desk'. I'll replace it with a new desk in one end of the room, I think; then a long table along the side with shelves above it for books and artifacts. On the other side, from floor to ceiling, we'll have more shelves and a very comfortable chair for reading with lots if light.
He was sitting in an old wooden office chair contemplating a pair of lyre players that looked just like him--long legs and arms and a prominent nose. "Are they you," I asked. "No, it's just the type of figurine."
I can't seem to be around him without thinking about his body. I want him. And he knows it. His eyes sparked green and gold. And he got up and moved toward me. We began to nuzzle each other without embracing, but he soon broke it off. "Let's play later. I want to finish this first." And he turned away to the pieces on the 'desk'.
I was irritated and slightly disgruntled that I had been dismissed so easily. Adam has always been able to compartmentalize. Usually he didn't do it to me. I looked at my distracted lover. I thought of how much I loved him, of what he meant to me, of what it would do to me if he died. It terrified me that I wouldn't be first the first to go.
07/10/00 (Saturday) One week till Adam runs in that damned races. He's off doing some last minute fine-tuning. I almost went with him for the pleasure of watching him. Wet all over with sweat, running the streets of Seacouver wearing nothing but shorts and a sweatshirt. No sword. It scares me to death. He seems to think he's invincible, untouchable. Maybe I'd think so too if I had lived so long. He said the risk was worth it.
I called Ann and got her to volunteer for the medical team. Joe said he would watch Mary. Adam will be furious with me, but I had to do something.
08/10/00 (Sunday) I leave this Wednesday. We just lazed around all day. We read the Sunday papers squabbling over the different sections, drank coffee and ate cinnamon rolls. Adam had to prepare a test for one of his classes.
He would have been happy with just a piece of fruit for lunch, but I went out to our favorite sub shop and got two big heroes with everything on them. I got him to take a break for our lunch. Beer, heroes, deli dill pickles, chips.
I'd hoped to distract Adam from his work, but he said he had to finish. I could have got his undivided attention if I wanted to--just keep pestering him for sex. He really couldn't resist the interaction for long, but I decided not to. He would be grumpy afterward and I knew he had to get his work finished. If I didn't let him work now, he would be up a good portion of the night.
09/10/00 (Monday) I was dozing when Adam finally got home from the University. I must have slept while he took a shower. The next thing I knew a very damp Adam was crawling into bed with me. He sighed and went to sleep, so I did too.
Adam woke me up by tracing spirals across my naked flesh. Down my back, across me buttocks, in the crevice--it was mesmerizing. I fell into a trance state. I missed what he was saying when he first began to talk. "And I was tattooed all over once. Blue. It lasted for a lot of years before it started to fade."
"All over?"
"Yeah, ALL over!"
I was awake now. I just had to ask and I knew I was supposed to. There's one born every minute. "Even your penis? That must have hurt."
He gave a little smirk, an 'aw it was nothing' look, "It was supposed to hurt. It was a religious ceremony. We were giving it to the gods." Well that didn't come out the way I expected.
He continued to trace the spirals across my shoulders and up into my hair. "All over means the top of your head, too."
"Yes. My head was shaved."
"I wish I had seen you. I can't imagine what you looked like. It must have been glorious."
He paused in his tracing. "I thought I was. But we lost the final battle. Everyone died."
I'm still and breathless. A whole tribe lost--which one was it and to whom did they lose and when was it. From the blue spirals it sounds Celtic. Do I ask or just act like nothing is going on. Which one will yield the rest of the story?
I waited too long. Adam slid down onto the bed and went to sleep.
10/10/00 (Tuesday) I leave for San Francisco in the morning. We made love tonight like it was the last time. Harsh, battering lust--never knowing who would come out on top as we rolled over and over--jabbing with fury at any hole that presented itself. Finally we were satiated after coming again and again. It was no long, lust-dazed, mellow coupling, not this time. Need and fury worked together to produce multiple explosions.
11/10/00 (Wednesday) I caught the plane at 7:00 am. Adam took me to the airport and went in with me to the check in counter. We found a secluded spot to say good-bye. I just have a funny feeling about this, a premonition.
12/10/00 (Thursday) I miss Adam. I miss knowing what he is doing and how he is feeling (I'm getting pretty good at knowing what he is 'doing', but the 'feeling' part still tends to throw me.). Just a week, I'm just going to be gone a week. When I'm alone like this, the feeling is acute. I miss his snarky comments on everything around us. I miss knowing that I am protected from anything that comes my way by five thousand years of guile. I miss the long wandering conversations that can go on for hours. I miss that body and what it can do. I just miss him. So much.
14/10/00 (Saturday) The call that I had halfway been
expecting came after a busy day. Dr. Anne Lindsey said Adam was in
trouble. I scrambled to get out of there and on a plane. I don't know
how I survived the flight.
15/10/00 (Sunday) I rented a small truck at the airport,
then called Anne for instructions. I don't remember much about
getting out there. I got lost on the back roads and had to call Anne
again. She sent me off in what seemed like the wrong direction, but
soon I came upon the camp.
Anne took me aside and said, "If anything happened to Adam and you
weren't here, I know you'd never recover. I don't know if he is all
right or not. I just know that he was hallucinating"
I grabbed her arms and swung her around. "What do you mean,
hallucinating."
"I guess that's too strong a word. He said he was having trouble with
memories. And now he's late. He should have been through here three
hours ago."
"Shit!"
"There is nothing I can do until you find him. I'm going to lie
down." She kissed me and walked to a nearby tent.
It was almost four in the morning. I couldn't begin to look for Adam
until the sun came up. I alternately paced the boundaries of the camp
and stood and looked at the trail he should have come in on.
I was standing looking up the trail as the sun finally came up. In
the distance a small figure jogged toward me. I watched as Adam came
closer and closer. The song of his presence was glorious. I felt a
mixture of joy that he was all right and elation and lust that he
looked so good. The rising sun shown down on him like it was a
spotlight. All he had on was loose running shorts and running shoes.
The sun slanted in to highlight every muscle.
I stepped up to him and put my arms around him and just held on. Adam
said, "Awfully bold of you, isn't it Mac? What are you doing here? I
thought you'd be gone till the middle of next week."
Anne took over and examined him then said, "You're perfectly healthy.
Maybe you'll tell Duncan the truth."
I put me arm around Adam's waist and walked him to the tent. I
ushered him inside, then went to get him something to eat. I was too
distracted to have the officials keep anything warm for him, so all I
could get were sandwiches. He inhaled the first one, then slowed down
to eat the second.
I asked to run the last section of the race with him; I'd told Bob to
go home. Adam asked if I'd ever run a marathon. I noticed he didn't
say no; that was something. Maybe he was frightened by whatever had
happened. Then I made a mistake. I told him that I had laughed when
Bob told me the race was 100 mile long.
He was so angry he was spitting, "What do you mean, Bob told you. And
I've run in more marathons the you've had years including the original
one." I realized the anger was excessive and he was trying to
distract me.
"Can you tell me what happened to you out there? I'm not pressuring
you. Tell me if you can."
Adam was very quiet. He turned away. It took me a minute to realize
that he was crying. I forget sometimes how tightly he's strung. He'd
just run seventy-five miles and something dreadful had happened toward
the end of the run. Maybe this was something he wouldn't be able to
talk about, but I had to give him the chance.
"Don't cry. We'll talk about it later. Or we won't talk about it at
all. Just don't cry." I took the plate out of his hand and pulled
him against my chest. He gave a little sigh. And then he told a
story that terrified me. If it were true I'd have to kill the bastard
all over again; if it was just hallucination-I don't know what we'd
do.
"I fell over a root on the trail; I was disoriented for a little bit
then I heard a strange, discordant quickening. It frightened me and I
started to run. You know how I am with strange immortals that I
haven't been introduced to." He glanced up at me with a little smile.
I kept my face straight and my hands loose, but I was thinking 'Oh my
God, no'.
"I don't know how long or how far I ran, but I fell again. When I
looked--it was Kronos, Mac. I don't know how or why he came back.
But he was wearing sneakers. I've never seen him in sneakers." He
tucked his head and I tightened my arms around him. For just a minute
he was quiet.
With his head still tucked he said, almost too low to hear, "He smiled
at me like he used to. I know you never saw it, but there were time
especially in the first couple of hundred years when he was--I can't
talk about that, Mac. He sat down beside me and said that he missed
me. I know I missed him. I know you can't understand that either,
but I do miss him. I cried with my head in his lap while he stroked
my hair."
He put one arm around me and held on. I knew whatever was coming was
going to be bad. "He asked me to kiss him. When I did--we were
suddenly the only two people in the world. The woods, the darkness,
it all vanished. It turned into quite a kiss. He--went all over me,
like I was fragile, like he missed me. He was so gentle at first like
he was in the beginning before the madness took him."
Adam snuggled down against me gathering his courage to tell me the
rest of it. "Mac, he fucked me and it got rough and I blacked out.
When I came to he was gone. And he had taken my backpack with my
favorite stiletto in it."
A hundred things were running through my mind but I said, "I'll buy
you a new knife."
"I was telling you the truth and you make a joke." He sounded hurt.
I didn't know what to believe.
Then a race official walked through the tent opening, "Pierson, you
have ninety minutes. Is there anything you need?" He just froze when
he saw Adam in my arms. He mumbled something and backed out.
Adam and I laughed. It broke some of the tension. "Just get
comfortable. I'll wake you in time. You'll need a few minutes to
stretch and get dressed."
Adam was so close to sleep he sounded breathless, "Mac, that was the
truth."
"Shh, shh--just sleep. We'll talk about it when we get home."
I was stroking his hair; it felt like velvet. Usually when I touch
him it leads to something else. When I leaned down to kiss his head,
his hair had a strange smell of something old. I could hear him
muttering in some language that I didn't know. I put my head down
against his hair. I didn't know what to think. But now was not the
time.
I woke Adam up in time to dress; my running clothes were under my
sweats. We walked out to find that the tent city had vanished around
us. All the officials and medical personnel had packed up and were
ready to go. Adam was very quiet as we walked to the start. The
official said "Twenty-five miles--can you do it?"
"Never doubt it."
We started off jogging very slowly. I run five to ten miles every day
so I thought the first part of the race would be easy, but this course
had stratigraphy. As we ran by the twenty mile marker going uphill, I
was starting to breathe a little hard. We had twenty miles to go.
Maybe that race official should have asked me if I could do it.
Adam noticed my heavier breathing, of course. As we came to the water
stations he would slow down a lot, then pick up speed as we came to
the midpoint between them, then slow down again. We took all
up-grades at a gentle jog, then picked up the pace on the downward
side. The changes in speed allowed me to rest a little.
When we ran past the five mile marker, I would have cheered if I had
had the breath for it. Five miles, I could do five more miles. It
seemed that every mile was marked from now on.
Fuck! Four more miles to go.
Adam was still running without strain. Head up, arms pumping
smoothly, his stride was still even and rhythmic. I was laboring,
head thrust forward, arms hanging loose, no stride to speak of. I was
supposed to be running to pace my exhausted companion, not the other
way around. Now we had less than four miles to go. I knew I could do
it.
My vision narrowed to just what was right in front of me. I was
struggling. Adam was aware of my difficulties. I was so ashamed. I
felt like dropping right where I stood. Pride kept me going; I
wouldn't quit and I wouldn't fail Adam.
We seemed to run forever. Adam had been talking to me for some time.
I really didn't understand him until he said, "One more mile, Mac.
Come on. You can go for one more mile. We can walk for a while. Can
you understand me?"
I nodded my head. I didn't have the breath to answer him. "Mac, we
have about half a mile to go. Can you do it?" I nodded and started
counting the steps. At last we fell across the finish line; to be
honest, I fell across the finish line. Adam came across in perfect
rhythm, head up.
Adam gathered me up and made me walk. Anne came up and got on my
other side. "What happened."
"He's not a distance runner, Anne. He'll be all right. Just keep him
walking." Adam went to the man with a clipboard. There was two SUVs
left; everything and everyone else had packed up and gone. Rather
than my strength returning, it was deserting me. After a few minutes
of walking, we got in the trucks and started for home. I slept deeply
the rest of the way into town and woke up feeling better. Thank God
for Immortal healing.
We got in Adam's truck and headed home. I would have to have help
getting my rental back, but that could wait for tomorrow. Right now I
wanted a shower and a bed. And maybe a little taste of Methos.
Finis.