The Coil (34 page)

“Let’s get this buttoned up, hey?” He reached for the top button under Jamie’s chin, and was startled by the insistent “No!” Jamie yelled.

“Mattie?”

Mattie looked behind him to see Simon jogging toward him with a giant panda under his arm. He sighed in relief and moved out of the way for Simon to crouch in front of Jamie.

“Hey, now,” Simon crooned softly, smoothing a hand over Jamie’s head while trying to catch his gaze. “What’s all this?”

“A group of schoolkids—that came out of nowhere, by the way—crowded us and kind of… jostled him. I’m sorry.”

“Come here, baby,” Simon murmured, and Mattie watched, impressed at how Jamie just sank into his dad’s arms, letting himself be held. “Don’t be sorry,” Simon spoke quietly to Mattie while rubbing slow circles into Jamie’s back. “You did great, Mattie. You did just the right thing.”

Mattie rubbed the back of his neck, feeling guilty regardless. “You sure? He was pretty upset.”

“Trust me, give it a little time and he’ll be all smiles again.”

Mattie nodded. “Okay. I hope this didn’t spoil the zoo for him. He was having such a great time….”

“Just you wait.” Simon smiled. “He’ll be begging to come back here in a few days. He loves animals.”

Mattie heaved a sigh of relief. “Good. Are we heading off now?”

“Yes, I think so. They close in forty-five minutes anyway.”

“Okay, let me grab this.” Mattie hefted the panda under his arm.

Simon frowned, only seeming to just realize what it was Jamie was wearing. “Is this your jacket?”

“Uh, yeah. I remembered you saying something about pressure calming him down.” He shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. “Probably didn’t work, but at least he’s toasty.”

“Come here.” Simon pulled him close by the front of his T-shirt and craned his head away from Jamie to kiss him softly. “You just continue to surprise me.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.”

“It is. You’re not cold, are you?”

“Nah, I’m fine.”

“All the same, let’s get going—
Oh
, I got you something too.”

“I only see one panda, mister.”

“In my back pocket, and no goosing me in public, you.”

Mattie snorted and reached a hand into Simon’s back pocket, taking a moment to go ahead and goose the man anyway. He pulled out a small plastic wrapper. “A key ring?” He pulled it out of the clear wrapper and laughed. “A penguin key ring, nice.”

“Well, you need one. You can’t go around keeping your keys on a piece of string. You’re just asking to lose them.”

Mattie laughed, remembering the horrified look on Simon’s face when he picked up the keys that, yes, were in fact hooked onto a shoestring. “Ty’s gonna have a fit. He’d love this.” He was already pulling his keys out of his pocket to transfer them over.

“Look a little closer.”

“What am I looking at?” He turned it over in his hand and noticed that there was something on the plastic penguin’s stomach. The middle of the penguin was almost hollowed out, and there was a small bubble of liquid with a moving arrow inside.

“It’s a compass.”

“You are such a boy scout,” Mattie laughed. “Come here.” He kissed Simon on the cheek. “Thank you for my compass.”

“You’re welcome. No getting lost on me, okay?”

He looked at the small plastic compass in his hand, smiling softly to himself and not quite able to meet Simon’s eyes. He settled for gently nudging him in the side. “Love you.”

“You too. Now guide us home.”

“
D
ONATELLO
was my favorite.”

“You’re making me feel old.”

“You’re not old.”

“Just older than you.”

“You’re distinguished.”

“Writing books and owning a house doesn’t make a person distinguished.”

“Then what does?” Mattie drew lazy circles on Simon’s chest. His head nestled comfortably on his shoulder. “What makes a person better than other people? What makes a person respected?”

“Aren’t we getting a little deep?”

“I want to know what you think, that’s all. Come on, in your opinion….” He lifted his head from Simon’s shoulder and leaned up on one elbow to look down at him. “In your opinion, what makes a person better than any other?”

Simon squinted at Mattie, smiling slightly as he pretended to give it some thought. “Let’s see… I’m guessing you’re expecting me to say something along the lines of… kindness? Compassion or intelligence?”

Mattie hummed and reached to run his fingers through Simon’s hair. “Something like that. Though I was expecting you to put it more eloquently. Being as wordy as you are and all.”

“Well, you’d be wrong.” Simon reached for the duvet, pulling it up higher over the both of them.

“This should be good.”

“I think that remembering your favorite Ninja Turtle at the age of twenty-six is pretty special.”

“The word ‘special’ can be taken in
so
many ways.”

Simon laughed. “Special as in beautiful. Beautiful and individual and untainted by the grind that is life, sometimes.”

“Now who’s getting deep?”

“I’m just saying I wish I’d known you years ago. I’m saying that you’re special in the beautiful way.” Simon tugged him by the arm, encouraging Mattie to lie back down, and then draped an arm around his shoulders to hold him close. “I’m saying that I find it cute that you had a favorite Ninja Turtle.”

“I didn’t think the show would still be airing. It’s from the nineties, right?”

Simon shrugged, his fingers ghosting up and down Mattie’s bicep. “Not sure. I don’t think Jamie’s actually ever seen it.” He frowned. “He’s not really a fan of cartoons.”

“Then why’d he choose that backpack?” Mattie asked, referring to Jamie’s Ninja Turtle school bag.

“He might have liked the colors. And he does love animals.
Oh
….” Simon poked him in the shoulder. “Thank you, by the way. Because of you, I’m probably going to have to buy him a bunny.”

“Ha ha.”

“A hamster, a rabbit… he’s going to have his very own zoo by the time he’s ten.”

“You’re exaggerating. You love seeing him get excited over animals.”

“Hence why he’ll probably have his own zoo.”

At the mention of the zoo, Mattie thought about the trip earlier that day. Something was niggling at him. “Jamie’s cape….”

“The security blanket that will outlive us all, yes?”

Mattie huffed a quiet laugh. “That’s what it is?”

“Actually, no. I mean, perhaps it is on some subconscious level, but I did ask him why he needed his cape once.”

“Yeah? What’d he say?”

Simon began to speak, stopped to chuckle softly, then wet his lips and continued. “He said it wasn’t a cape at all. It’s a cloak, as in what a Hobbit wears.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“That’s adorable,” Mattie laughed.

“Yep,” Simon agreed, grinning. “In his own words, it’s ‘his magic cloak that makes him invisible’.”

“You sure he isn’t thinking of
Harry Potter
?”

“Where are you up to on the books and movies?” Simon asked.

“I’ve seen
The Fellowship
and
The Two Towers
. Me and the J-man are gonna watch the last one tomorrow. I’m still on the first book.”

“I think it mentions it in the first book, but you see it in the last film. Them elvish cloaks be wicked cool.”

“You just said wicked cool.”

“I know. Sorry about that.”

Mattie laughed and pressed a kiss to Simon’s neck. “So… if he thinks his cape—sorry,
cloak
makes him invisible, then it
is
a safety thing.”

Simon shrugged. “It’s a bit of both. Tolkien is his favorite storyteller—”

“That’s awesome, by the way,” Mattie interrupted. “Having a favorite author at his age.”

“Not so much a favorite author as a favorite story, but yeah, I know what you mean.”

“So, both? Security and plain old little boy hero worship?”

“Yes.”

“He, um… he did this thing, at the zoo,” Mattie began slowly.

“What thing?”

“When I put my jacket on him. I was going to button it up, but he froze up and wouldn’t let me touch him. I didn’t know if it was because he thought I was going to untie the cape, or…?”

“Ah. No.” Simon shook his head. “That’s his neck thing, remember? He doesn’t like the area around his neck to be touched; it’s like a trigger for him.”

“With other things…,” Mattie began, “I mean, there are a fair few things that upset him, right?”

Simon nodded. “Right.”

“But those are usually gradual things. Like when he’s in a noisy atmosphere, or somewhere unknown? He’ll hum, and he’ll do the number thing before he gets
really
upset….”

“Kind of like stages, yes.”

“But you touch him near his neck or accidentally step on his cape—which I guess tugged at his neck, now that I think about it—you do that and it’s like… he cuts out those stages.”

Simon nodded. “It’s pretty much zero to sixty,” he sighed. “I don’t really know what it is, and believe me I’ve read every book there is, spoken to all kinds of doctors… it’s just a part of him. For some kids—kids like Jamie—it could be touching their ears, hair, holding their hand… it’s just something that terrifies him.”

“Like he’s being choked.” Mattie spoke softly.

“I guess so.”

Mattie nestled closer. “I know that feeling.”

Simon’s hand stilled in Mattie’s hair a moment. “What do you mean? Someone choked you?” he asked with a sense of dread.

“No—well, yes. But I didn’t mean it literally.”

“You were
choked
?” Simon asked thickly.

“Simon,” Mattie sighed in a tone of voice that did not invite further discussion. “I told you… it was a dangerous profession, if it can be called a profession.”

Simon closed his eyes, nodded. “Sorry. So, if not literally…?” he encouraged, forcing the image of Mattie being hurt out of his mind’s eye.

Mattie hesitated. He watched his thumb gently graze through the light stubble on Simon’s chin. “It’s not something I’ve ever really talked about before,” he offered quietly.

“Then you should probably get it out.” Simon slid an arm across his waist, his touch possessive. “You can tell me.”

Mattie cleared his throat quietly and shrugged one shoulder. “No big thing, really. It’s just… it’s this picture I keep in my head. Like….” He took a breath, then sighed in frustration. “You know when you’re feeling anxious, or… I don’t know, like you can’t cope?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ve been there.”

“Well, I’d sometimes picture this… this rope. A coil of rope, wound tight inside of me.”

“Inside you,” Simon echoed quietly.

“Yeah. Like when things got really bad… say like when I really, really hated who I was….”

“Why would you ever hate who you are? You’re amazing.” Simon spoke sadly.

Mattie shook his head. “Personality doesn’t come in to it, believe me. When you can’t afford to buy yourself socks that don’t have holes in them, or you can’t pay back a friend without resorting to getting on your knees in front of a stranger….” Mattie twisted his fist closed around the edge of the pillow. “You’d be surprised at how quickly a guy can learn to hate himself.”

“Mattie,” Simon said weakly. “All of those things… they’re circumstances, not who you are or were.”

Mattie let out a deep breath. “The worst of it, though, the worst of it was feeling
helpless
. Prostitution is degrading. But not knowing how to even begin to make a better life for yourself? That’s the kind of stuff that can make you feel hopeless.”

Simon gently rolled Mattie onto his back so that he could lean on one arm beside him. He cupped Mattie’s jaw, his thumb stroking over his cheek. “You
did
do better for yourself, Mattie.”

Mattie smiled a little tremulously. “I know. I met you.”

Simon felt something heavy settle uncomfortably in his stomach. “No, Mattie. You got your GED. You’re waiting tables now.” Even before he’d finished speaking, a sense of shame settled deep within him. Was this what Ty had meant? Had he seriously just told the man he loved that he was a different person now because he was allowed to take a customer’s order?

“No, Simon. I don’t think you get it.” Mattie rolled on his side to face him, and worried his lip as he struggled with his words. “Every day I was treading water, Simon. I was working so hard to just not
give in
, you know?”

Simon opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t. He shook his head unhappily. “I
—
I don’t—”

“Twenty-six, and I couldn’t do shit. I
—
I didn’t know how to look after myself, how to function normally like other people. I’d watch the customers that came into the diner. I’d look at you, with your laptop, with your son, and I’d wonder what the hell was wrong with me. I’d wonder how all these other people managed to lead normal lives so easily. I’d look at them. I’d feel so fucking alone, Simon, you’ve no idea.”

Mattie quickly wiped at the corner of his eye with the heel of his hand. He kept his eyes downcast, wanting to flush all the built-up bile out of his body, out of his
heart
, but to do that he couldn’t look up.

“I’d see you writing away, and then I’d go to these adult reading and writing classes and struggle to understand such basic shit. Every day I’d try, I’d try harder to feel like I belonged with other people, but I’d fail.” He shrugged helplessly. “I’d fail and I’d fail and I’d fucking fail.”

“Jesus, Mattie,” Simon whispered.

“So I’d picture this coil, right?” He dared look up into eyes that were glassy and sad. “I’d picture this rope just winding itself tight around—around the
me
that’s inside, you know?”

“I—I….”

“And it’s like the tighter it wound, the safer I was. If the rope pulled hard, then it’d stop me from just completely floating away. But at the same time—” He frowned and shook his head. “—it would choke me. The more I gritted my teeth, the more I’d try and then fail. Try and then fail… it
suffocated
me. But I needed it.” He let out a deep breath. “God, does that make any sense?”