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     �	  B: Like A Rolling Stone 
 by Dee Gilles	

 Disclaimer: For entertainment.

 

 Benny & Ray 106 Like a Rolling Stone Dee Gilles Rated R

 The little apartment on St. Donatus Street was hot. The month of May so
far had been an unusually warm one, and today Ben had opened all the
windows to let a breeze in. A fine pollen had seeped its way into the
apartment, lightly dusting the window sills. The apartment would need a
good cleaning before they vacated it for two weeks. 

 He was packing for Canada. There was also laundry to be done, bills to be
paid, and the refrigerator needed to be defrosted. He wished Ray would
hurry up and get home; he'd appreciate the extra hands. But Ray was at the
hospital sitting with Tommy. He went everyday, much like when Ben himself
had been in the hospital, felled by Ray's own bullet. Ben glanced at the
clock. 

 He dumped some tightly folded T-shirts on the bed and dug out his wallet.
He placed some money on the nightstand so he wouldn't forget to leave it
for their niece Rosanna, who would water their plants, look after Pearson,
and take in the mail while they were gone. 

 He was looking forward to getting away with his little family to the cool
climes of northern Canada. No chasing criminals, no classes, no papers. No
city noise.

 The quiet would be good for Ben's soul. The spring had gone badly, and he
needed some healing. 

 Chicago had gone through a crime wave the likes of which had not been
seen in a couple of decades. He and Stan had been hitting the pavement
hard--literally. Wednesday he had jumped out of a second floor apartment
over on Diversey, in hot pursuit of an alleged rapist. He hadn't tucked
properly and blew out his knee when he landed. A trip to the emergency
room had been required to pop the joint back in place. The knee was still
secured with an ace bandage.

 Plus, he and Ray were not doing so well in the relationship department
either. Ray had been withdrawn as of late, and silent. He disappeared for
periods of time without accounting for his whereabouts. Sometimes when Ray
returned home from God-knows-where, he smelled different. Their sex was
different, too. It was infrequent. When they did it, it was Ben who
initiated it, and it was brief, perfunctory. 

 Ben Fraser was a savvy man, despite his persistent reputation for navet.
He knew that it was past time for Ray and him to speak of certain matters.
He wasn't looking forward to it. In fact, he had been dreading it, putting
it off because exposing the issue to the light of day would make it feel
very, very real and raw, and horrible. 

 Even so, Ben was looking forward to this trip to Yellowknife to spend
some time with Ray, if they could get past that. Although Carie was coming
too, much to Ray's protestations, Ben had received a generous offer from
Maggie, who was flying in with her fianc Avery to spend a week with them,
to keep Carie for one weekend so that he and Ray could go camping, to be
by themselves on a more private retreat.

 His plan was to confront Ray when he felt the time and place was right.
It wasn't going to be pleasant, though, no matter how benign the
circumstances. Ray's immediate reaction to all conflict was to explode
into rage. Ben would need to broach the subject very gently, and in a
non-threatening way. 

 Ben thought he might suggest to Ray that they go into couples' therapy,
thought a mediator might be exactly what they needed. He didn't think Ray
would go for it, but he had to attempt something. It seemed to him that
they kept arguing about the same old things lately, with only temporary
resolution. Ben was frustrated.

 He had had the strangest dream last night. He had walked into his house,
but it wasn't his and Ray's home, it was his grandparent's big old drafty
house in Inuvik. Paw Paw was outside tending to the dogs. Grammy was
inside, down in the cellar, putting up jars of preserved squash and
tomatoes for the long cold winter ahead. He could hear the occasional
clink! of glass jars knocking as she stacked them. Other than that, the
house was silent. 

 He had just returned from the library with a bagful of books, had
lingered there for a long time, making it home just as the sun was
settling over the horizon. His younger self went upstairs to his room,
anxious to dig into his books. He'd sat at his desk and spent a few
minutes sorting the books in the order that he wanted to read them, when
he noticed that his closet door was ajar. Curious, he stood. He opened the
closet door and discovered it was empty. He drew back in surprise. He then
went to his dresser and yanked open the drawers. They were empty as well.
Ben looked around the room, and discovered other missing things. His
hockey card collection was gone. His Mason jar of coins was gone too.

 Ben charged downstairs, and indignantly asked his grandmother if she had
removed his things. She stared at him blankly, for he had no voice. He ran
outside, panic rising, to find his grandfather, who was now in the garage
replacing a leather strap on the dogsled. He yelled at his grandfather but
he made not a sound. He stood there and yelled and yelled and yelled and
could not make himself understood. He began to pantomime, gesticulating
wildly. 

 His father appeared from nowhere. He put his hand on his shoulder, and
held up his other hand, to quell his silent screaming. His father shook
his head at him, mouth drawn tight with disapproval.

 Ben woke himself, moaning aloud. He put his hand out next to him for
reassurance, but Ray's side of the bed was unoccupied. He checked Ray's
alarm clock. It was twelve twenty. He laid there puzzling over the dream,
wondering why he dreamt it, wondering where Ray was.

 He continued his packing now, ambling carefully, roaming from room to
room and mindful of his wrapped knee. He gathered his and Carie's things
for their extended holiday. He had encouraged Ray to start packing last
night instead of waiting until the last minute like he always did, but Ray
hadn't even so much as pulled his luggage out of the hall closet yet.

 Despite his misgivings about the holiday, Ben was excited nonetheless.
This would be Carie's first trip to his homeland, and Ben was thrilled. He
knew she wouldn't remember this trip in the future, but for him, it was
important nonetheless. He got to show her where he'd come from. 

 He thought he might take her to see the Mounties. Buck Frobisher kept him
filled in on the latest doings in short, terse little letters. The RCMP
had installed another outpost a few miles outside of town, and they had
put up a plaque for Dad, planted a few trees and erected a flagpole out
front. `Fraser Depot' they named it. Dad would be proud of himself, Ben
thought with a small smile. The building had been opened without much fuss
and fanfare six weeks ago. Ben had wanted to be there for the small
dedication ceremony, had tried to move their trip to coincide with the
occasion, but he and Ray couldn't get the time off together at the same
time. 

 Ben exited the bedroom. He crept into his sleeping daughter's room,
moving silently, grabbing a few more items to pack. She lay in bed
uncovered, wild locks of curly brown hair aggressively strewn across her
pillow. She slept in a diaper and a white T-shirt. He was reassured by her
steady, even breathing. He drew up the sheet from the foot of the bed and
covered her legs. He moved quietly around the room. He need not have
worried too much about awaking her as he moved about, however, collecting
articles of clothing and a few toys for the long trip.

 Like him, his daughter was a heavy sleeper. These days, if Ben didn't get
her ready for bed in time, she crashed and crashed hard wherever she
happened to be. Last night she was snoozing on her little potty, her head
leaning back on the wall. She somehow managed to look very grown-up and
serious with her little jeans at her ankles, an upside down book on her
lap. The potty was Carie's new favorite spot to reside. She wasn't yet
interested in eliminating in the potty, but she did enjoy sitting with a
good book every once in a while. Ben suspected she had seen her Papa
sitting on the toilet reading one of his muscle-car magazines. 

 Carie and Ray were best friends these days, now that she could interact
more verbally with Ray. She watched and copied everything he did and said.
Ben had already had to caution Ray about watching his mouth and minding
his manners around her. Carie was already sassy and fresh enough on her
own, without Ray's encouraging her. He was sure that mouthiness was a
Vecchio trait.

 He selected some more of Carie's T-shirts and pants, two fleece
pullovers, and her tiny hiking boots and her sneakers. He grabbed her Pooh
and Piglet out of her otherwise vacant crib. There'd be no forgiving him
if he forgot to bring those two along for the visit. He took a few
toiletries, and ambled out of the room and quietly shut the door behind
him. 

 As Ben returned to their bedroom to deposit Carie's extra things in his
duffel bag, he heard keys jingle in the hallway. Two seconds later, Ben
heard the familiar sound of Ray letting himself in for the evening.

 "Hey!" Ray called from the living room. He heard keys drop on the table,
and Ray appeared in the bedroom doorway. 

 "How is he?" Ben asked.

 Ray shrugged. "Not good. He's really depressed, not talking much. He
refuses to look himself in the mirror, and I can't say I blame him. He
looks awful." 

 Tommy had finally recovered enough to undergo the first of what would be
several facial reconstruction surgeries. It was scheduled for tomorrow
morning. 

 "Those motherfuckers!" Ray muttered as he dropped on the bed and jerked
off his shoes without untying the laces. "Domenico, that faccia di
stronzo! Tommy's permanently fucked, and he's probably out on the town now
with the other two, having pizza and beer, living it up. He won't see the
inside of a courtroom for months, if at all. Probably plea it out, and
he'll get away with this shit."

 Ben shared Ray's frustration with the slow pace of the American justice
system, but he suppressed it. "It will be all right, Ray. Justice will
prevail," he said as he stowed away Carie's things.

 "'Justice will prevail'!" Ray mocked him. "You ever listen to how stupid
you sound sometimes, Benny? You sound like some...some corny black and
white Western. This ain't no movie, Benny. This is real life!"

 "Don't take it out on me, Ray!" Ben warned.

 "Sorry, Benny," Ray immediately muttered. "But this is personal. This is
big. Tommy? Tommy, he's like family." Ray lay back on the bed, crossing
his ankles and put his hands behind his head. 

 "I know that, Ray. I'm fond of him too."

 Ray closed his eyes. Ben went to his dresser and pulled out socks and
underwear, and dropped them on the bed. He also retrieved some jeans. He
went to the bathroom and retrieved some other personal items. He returned
to the bedroom. Ray had not moved. Ben studied him for a moment, and
finally prompted.

 "Ray. Can you please pack? You know you always forget things when leave
it to the last moment and have to rush."

 Ray opened his eyes. "Um...Benny. I gotta tell you something." He came up
on his elbows and sighed heavily. He actually appeared tongue-tied for a
moment.

 Anxiety stabbed Ben in the gut. He stood stock-still, waiting for
whatever Ray had to say.

 Ray cleared his throat, and swallowed nervously. "I'm not going with you
and Carie to Canada, Benny."

 Ben stared at Ray incredulously, mouth open, for several seconds.
Finally, a sense of outrage kicked in. He threw down the jeans he was
holding, disgusted. "Oh Ray, Ray, Ray! We've been planning this holiday
for months! Why would you not want to go?"

 "Well...Benny, I'm scared for Tommy. I don't feel right about leaving him
at a time like this. He's hurt, and I can't just go off and leave him." 

 It was a flimsy excuse, and they both knew it.

 Ben sat on the bed next to Ray, carefully stretching his leg out. "But he
has Bruno, Ray," he said exasperated, "and his other friends and family."

 "Yeah, but I don't feel right about it, still."

 "But Ray, this trip was your idea."

 "I know Benny, I know."

 Ben sat in silence and contemplated this stranger lying on his bed. Ray
had blind-sided him. 

 He had presented Ben with the tickets to Yellowknife on Christmas day,
and he had been counting down to the trip ever since. The thought of his
springtime homecoming had gotten Ben through many a long and solemn winter
day. The thought of waking in the cabin loft with Ray as the morning sun
poured in on them had been a salve to him. 

 Finally, Ben spoke. His voice quivered in anger. "I'm extremely
disappointed, Ray." He shook his head.

 "Really, Benny? How does it feel?" 

 Ben stared at him, taken aback at the undisguised disdain in his voice.
Ray stared back at him balefully. 

 The too-familiar tension rose between them rose once more, taut and
unmistakable. A long silence stretched between them. "What am I being
punished for now, Ray?"

 Ray refused to answer, looking away. 

 The icy silence continued the rest of the night. Ben finished his
packing, and they prepared for bed. Ray turned out the light and crawled
in, turning his back on Benny.

 They just slept inches apart yet worlds away. 

 FINIS

  
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End B: Like A Rolling Stone by Dee Gilles 

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