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Hestops, props his hand on his hip, and turns his ear toward me.
“Iwasn’t trying to pick you up or anything.”Hisbody swivels a little more in my direction. “NorwasImeaning to imply anything about you.It’sjust that…”IdecideIcan’t explain thisPhayedbusiness to him.Heisn’t very accepting of anythingIhave to say right now. “Don’tfeel that you aren’t normal when normal is just a construct to keep people repressed.Ifyou’re going to live in a place likeChicago, you’re going to have to open your mind.Ihope that you’re able to open yourself to the truths of who you are and accept them.”
Heflips a towel over his shoulder. “Ineed to get my workout in after sitting for nine hours in my truck.”Withthat, he leaves.Iwatch until he rounds the corner and the elevator beeps.
Mydoor opens on the first try this time.Ithrow my bag on the bed and undress as if that is all it takes to unload all the shitIcarry around.Thislittle idea of mine to ride my bike across the country is supposed to make me feel—Idon’t know…better or something.
Iswitch on the television for the noise whileIwash my face and hands.Afterwiping away the water with a towel,Ilean on the vanity and stare at my reflection.Whileit is easier to grow a beard than shave at every hotelIstop at,Idon’t like it.Themirror is reflecting a version of myself thatIam not, an old angry version who was a soldier and mad at the world.Maybethat is the weightIfeel choking me.
Goingback into the room,Irifle through my bag untilIfind my razor.Ididn’t bring any shaving cream, so soap will have to do.Ifill the sink with water, wet my beard, and lather it up.It’stime not to look like the man that hates who he is and the world in which he exists.
AfterIfind the man behind the mask,Ishower and crawl into bed to let the television numb my brain.Iam certain the knockIhear is on the television, so it takes a second knock to drag me back to reality.WhenIopen the door,Evanis standing there, his arm propped on the door frame.Hisexpression changes to shock.
“Wow.Youshaved your beard?”
Iscrub my hand across my chin. “Itwas bugging me.Idon’t like having a beard.Couldn’ttake it anymore.”
Henods, accepting my answer.
“CanIcome in?”Heis a lot calmer than he was, complacent even.Hehas showered and changed into different shorts and a t-shirt.
Istep back and open the door wide, swinging out my arm in invitation.
“Whatare you watching?” he asks as he walks into the room.
Imove past him, grab the remote, and switch off the television. “Isthat why you came here?”Iask with more impatience thanIintend to convey.
“No.”Hesits on the bed closest to the door. “Ifelt bad for howIreacted to you earlier.”
Ifold my arms over my bare chest.
“I’msorry,Iflew off the handle.Youdon’t understand whatI’mdealing with,” he says as he hangs his head.
“Soenlighten me.”
Whenhe glances up, he looks so damn wounded.Itmakes me feel bad for being guarded, soIdrop my arms and sit across from him on the opposite bed.
“I’lltell you if you explain what you meant back there, about making me feel better…making me forget.”
“Quidpro quo then.”
“What?” he asks in confusion.
“Itmeans a favor for a favor, or in this case a truth for a truth.”
“Thenyes.”
“Evan, do you think it’s possible that there is more to this world than what you see and know?”
Hepinches his brows together. “Likewhat?”
“Likeme.”Thisdoes nothing but confuse him further. “I’mso far out of that box of normal you’ve got one foot in, that it is beyond your realm of comprehension.I’mnot like anyone you have ever met.Ihave the ability to ease your emotions with just my touch.”
“Andthe forgetting?”
Inod. “Thattoo.Ican take away all that is plaguing you for the moment, so you can rest your mind.FromwhatIcan tell, you are in desperate need of that rest.”
Heis chewing on his cheek, unsure and cautious.
