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This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. This miniature castle was huge. It was insane one person lived in all of it. But if it was all some sort of fever dream, Ben wasn’t ready for it to stop. “Crazy,” he said softly.
“My great-grandfather had this townhouse built in 1898. It’s been in the family this whole time. My mother lives here as well, but only part of the year. During the winter she’s either travelling or in St Thomas. Her joints aren’t what they used to be and she has the third floor, so that’s why I had the elevator installed. You, I think, we’ll put on the fourth floor, if that’s okay with you.” He closed the metal grate and pushed the button for the fourth floor. “It’ll be private. I rarely go up there and Mother never does. If you’re hungry or thirsty at any point, there’s food and drinks in the kitchen. Plus there’s an en suite bathroom. It only has a shower, though. If you want a tub, I can put you instead on the same floor as my mother.”
Ben had to clamp down on his first instinct, which was to laugh hysterically. It was all so unreal. This wasn’t a condo. It was amansion.One much larger than any of the places he’d ever gone to clean in the evenings. And this kind man, who was a stranger and might be some sort of super nice and super-rich serial killer, was apologizing for offering him a bathroom of his own that only had a shower and no tub. Despite himself, a small, nervous giggle came out.
“What’s funny, Ben?” Simon asked and his tone was so comforting and his eyes so friendly that Ben didn’t care if he was a serial killer.
“Nothing,” Ben said, blushing.
“Hmm?” The elevator stopped. Simon opened the grate again and then the wooden door on the other side. He walked around, flipping light switches, and Ben saw the small kitchen—which was larger than the one in Kyle’s house—right in front of him, closed double doors to his right, and a short hallway to his left.
Ben sighed. At this point, what was the harm in speaking his mind? “I just thought it was funny that you were apologizing for the bathroom because all it had was a shower and we just came from my place where everything’s underwater because the water heater broke. This is…” he gestured around, trying to encompass the entire house and Simon, himself. “This is all like a dream.”
Simon reached out, tentatively, and brushed back a lock of Ben’s hair that had fallen across his forehead. “It’s all real, I assure you.”
For you, maybe, but not for me,Ben thought, but didn’t say out loud.
“Would you like me to show you the bedroom?”
“I hope you’re not expecting a tip afterward because I don’t have anything on me.”
Simon burst out laughing. “No tipping is required, trust me.” He led Ben down the short hallway to a large room filled with windows. There were skylights as well in the ceiling. Simon pointed out a remote control that was on the bedside. “This controls the blinds. It’ll close and open them for you. And right here is the bathroom. I never know when family might come to visit, so I keep it stocked. Shampoo, soap, razor, shaving cream, toothbrush, and toothpaste.” Simon paused and laughed softly. “Actually, it does sound like I’m showing you around a hotel room, doesn’t it?”
The shower that Simon had apologized for was large enough to hold four people without them touching each other and was tiled in marble. There were two shower heads and a small bench.
“The shower is digital. Turn the handle until it’s at your preferred temperature then push this button right here. When you get in the next time, just push the button again and it’ll go right to the temp you programmed in. It’s pretty easy to use. Will you be okay up here?”
This, for reasons unknown to Ben, was some sort of final straw for his overwrought psyche. Entirely too much had happened that day, and the previous one as well, and Ben lost the last of his ability to cope. He nodded, sat down shakily on the closed toilet seat, and started to sob.
10
Simon Is a Safe Harbor
Friday, December 15
The fourth-floor bathroom
The Gold Coast
When Ben started sobbing in the bathroom, Simon panicked internally. Outwardly, he kept himself calm and still so as to not make the situation worse. He didn’t think Ben was frightened of him or the situation, but it wasn’t out of the question, he supposed. Tentatively, he reached out to touch the top of Ben’s head. Slowly, gently, he stroked the boy’s curly hair. It was soft, like the down from a duckling. Simon watched Ben’s reaction to the touch carefully. He didn’t flinch away from it. Rather, he seemed to press into Simon’s hand, seeking more contact.
“It’s okay,” Simon told Ben in his softest, most gentle voice. “I promise everything is okay. Or will be. No one here will hurt you and you’ll have a safe place to rest and get better.”
Ben, Simon noticed, was both laughing and crying, shaking his head back and forth as if to negate everything Simon had just said. Or perhaps it was more that Ben didn’t believe it.
“Is there anything at all I can do to help?” Simon asked. “I can stay, or go. I can get you ice cream. Or chocolate. Or whatever you like.”
That didn’t seem to help. Ben, who had been quieting, started to laugh again, which alternated with more coughing and wrenching sobs. Thinking he must be the problem, Simon began to step back but he stopped and when Ben reached up and grabbed a fistful of Simon’s shirt and held him in place. He was surprisingly strong for a man that thin and sick.
“No,” Ben rasped out. He hiccupped a few times. “Stay. Please.”
Something constricted around Simon’s heart loosened and fell away. He wasn’t the problem. That was something, at least. He moved closer and Ben wrapped his arms around Simon’s waist and buried his face against Simon’s shirt. The laughter stopped and his sobs slowed then ceased. Even after he had quieted entirely, Ben didn’t let go. Simon stroked his hair and waited. “Take your time, Benny. I have nowhere else I need to be. Take as much time as you need.”
As the words came out of his mouth an objective part of his brain marveled at them. Ben was sweet and clearly needed help, but he was a stranger to Simon. Nevertheless, Simon felt like he was comforting someone deeply beloved and cherished. His feelings were completely out of line for the situation, but what he’d told Ben was true. Simon had nowhere at all he needed be other than where he was right that minute. And, truth be told, he didn’t have an ounce of desire to be anywhere else.
Eventually, Ben pulled back. He snuffled, grabbed some toilet paper, then wiped his face and blew his nose. “God, I’m so sorry. Sorry for everything.”
“Ben, no. I don’t need or want an apology. You’ve gone through quite a lot in the last twenty-four hours. I think you deserve a slight nervous breakdown.”
