Miles. Part 3

I shook my head and reached for my school bag, pulling a souvenir bottle of cheap Smirnoff vodka out as I propped an elbow over his leg to get a better angle. "I can think of a lot of things I'd rather do with this than pour it down your leg, Felix, but since we're buddies and all that, I'll make an exception, just this once."

Felix seized the bottle out of my hands. "Give me a sip, first." He took a little swig, made a dirty look, and handed it back to me. I had one, too, before leaning over to pour a few drops across the entire gash. Felix moaned painfully. "G.o.d, that stings."

"Not as much as a teta.n.u.s shot would." I bounced my fist on his thigh a few times before throwing the empty bottle onto the tracks. His moan felt like it was caught in my ears. The buzz of the neighborhood was a little quieter than usual, as if the world had suddenly decided to be quiet and catch its breath for a moment. I could feel the late afternoon sun on my face, and wondered if Nicolasha had gone straight home, or might be watching us from the street below. The wind was pretty calm. I a.s.sumed it was Chicago's way of telling me a particularly fearsome winter was on its way.

In fact, it was something I was too unfamiliar with to recognize.

"So why does home suck so bad for you, nowadays?"

I began eyeing the old bank across the street and exhaled tiredly. "It's a long and boring story, Felix."

He patted me on the back again. You know, I thought, I've been touched more this month than I had for the last three, maybe five years? "That's what friends are supposed to be for."

My face and voice were blank. "I thought we were just buddies."

"Well, I'd like to be friends, too. Wouldn't you?"

Sure I would, Felix. I'm just not very good at it, that's all. Ask the guys I used to play ball with. "I'm really kind of a loner."

"So am I. We can be loners together, you know." He nudged me in the arm and held out his hand. I took it and we smiled at each other for a couple of seconds before the gleaming double-deck train rolled up to a halt on the northbound side of the platform.

Felix stood, trying to cover up the pain I could see he was in. He waved at the graying, impatient conductor who stepped from the train doors as a few pa.s.sengers got off. All stops at 55th Street lasted for a few minutes.

Felix wrapped an arm inside of mine. I tried not to blush. "Why don't you come home with me?"

Could I stay there? "It's a school night, Felix!"

"Oh, big deal. I didn't pick up my books because I wanted to catch you before you left, so I can't do any homework. My mother is cooking a big dinner tonight, we'll eat, you can tell me all about school, and I can study one thing while you do another. My building has a pool, so we can take a dip afterwards, sleep, and come back here tomorrow morning. This way you won't have to go home, and we loners can keep each other company."

Do you like cla.s.sical music? "Where am I going to sleep?"

"Ive got a bunk bed. When I was a kid I was afraid of floors in the dark, ha. Now I just like being up in the air. But you can be on top if you want."

The conductor looked at the large, round pocket watch attached to his vest by a silver chain, and stepped back into the belly of the train car, waiting for us to make a decision. Felix held up a one-more-minute finger.

Now, let's see. Dad didn't usually roll home until at least eight. Mom was already off teaching, and had to be at the hospital by eleven. I debated whether either of them would notice if I didn't come home. Now there was a stupid question!

"Wouldn't you rather wait until Friday, when we can stay up later?"

"We can do it Friday, too."

"What about your parents? I don't want to impose on them."

Felix walked me onto the train by the arm as the conductor closed the sliding metal doors shut behind us. "They love company. Besides, I won the race, so shut up and pick out where you'd like to sit."

V I I.

There is no evil angel but love.

Love's Labor's Lost Felix Cromwell lived in a chocolate-brown skysc.r.a.per near Wacker Drive, one that looked more like an office building than an apartment complex. I always figured a condo or flat in the Loop would be big, luxurious, and expensive, but Felix's current home wasn't very big - two bedrooms, a bath for each, a large living-dining area combo, a kitchen, and a tiny vanity bath. h.e.l.l, my Dad's bedroom was that big. Even if the apartment had a great view of the Chicago River, the Wrigley Building, and the Merchandise Mart, it couldn't cost much. Furnishing-wise, Felix's parents went in for the modern, Scandinavian look, which I'd hardly call luxurious. Any furniture that makes the hardwood floor seem appealing wasn't luxurious. No. What made the Cromwell apartment special was the Cromwell family.

Felix's hyper-ingratiating chit-chat ("What kind of sports, movies, books, music, clothes, travel, people, etc. etc. etc. do you like?") and manner (smile, nudge, pat, smile, laugh, touch, smile, hold, and so on) had been driving me nuts from the minute we got on the train until we walked into the apartment and I was greeted with the rich aroma of broiling steaks, and a very warm welcome from Felix's good-looking mom, who was happy to abandon dinner to give her only child a hug and his new friend a very unexpected kiss.

"I'm Arlene, the person responsible for the little guy." Her face was deeply tanned, soft and friendly. The large curls of her dark blond hair were thrown back with abandon. She wore a fuzzy red turtleneck, tight blue jeans, and snakeskin cowboy boots rather well. Her smile was wide and sincere, and was already making me feel very comfortable.

"It's good to meet you, Mrs. Cromwell." We shook hands.

"Call me Arlene or I won't let you stay for dinner."

Felix shifted on his feet and cleared his throat as Arlene's eyes zeroed in on his torn slacks and b.l.o.o.d.y leg. Her glare could have stopped a tank division in its tracks. "Can he stay over tonight, too, Ma?"

She looked at the gash, seemingly satisfied it was nothing dramatic, and then detected the faint smell of cheap American vodka. The glare moved in my direction.

"I couldn't think of anything else to use, Mrs. Crom - Arlene."

Felix blushed. Arlene peered at me with the patented you-can't-fool-me look known to all mothers. I shrugged my shoulders and tried my innocent look, unsuccessfully.

"Do you always bring vodka to school?" She propped one of her hands on a hip. No, I thought, I'm usually just equipped for little things like broken hearts and s.e.xual confusion. Poisonous leg wounds and making friends are new to me.

"Just on days they hand back some exams." All right, don't laugh. "No, ma'am."

"Do you have any more?"

A veritable distillery at home, but it's my Dad's. "No, ma'am."

"Do you smoke pot?"

If I started, I'd put Timothy Leary to shame. "No, ma'am."

Arlene reached for a large cutting knife and held the tip of it to the edge of my throat. James giggled quietly in the background. I think Felix was embarra.s.sed.

"Don't f.u.c.k with an armed Jewish mother." I shook my head. "Good. No booze, no drugs, and no noise after we go to bed."

"Yes, ma'am."

She nodded and returned to the huge salad she was preparing. "We'll be eating in about an hour. Felix, get your friend set up, and change out of that suit, for Heaven's sake." She rolled her eyes at me. "I told him to dress like a normal human being this morning, but, no, I'm only the mother, what the h.e.l.l do I know?"

A mother with a sense of humor. What a novelty!

"Ma, you're the one who told me the Inst.i.tute was part of the university, and everyone who went there was a rich brain! I just wanted to fit in!" Felix pointed at me. "I didn't think they went in for the ski lodge look!" No, there's more heat in a ski lodge, pal.

"At least your friend doesn't look like an overdressed car salesman, dear."

We retreated to Felix's bedroom.

While telling me about his folks and their last home in Cleveland, Felix disrobed and tossed the suit onto his bed. I watched him clean and dress his leg in the bathroom from the reflection on the door mirror. He picked out a worn-out pair of jeans, a black sweatshirt, and white gym socks from his over-stuffed closet.

Felix looked good in his underwear.

He had a soft build and broad shoulders, which I thought was the suit jacket talking. His arms, legs, chest, and back were completely absent of hair. But he had a thin pencil of hair leading down from his belly-b.u.t.ton into his tight white briefs that looked like they had been unwrapped that morning. They highlighted the tight bubbles of his rear and fit to bust crotch.

Now I knew where Felixs height genes ended up.

The room was spa.r.s.ely decorated. Each brother had a shelf of toys and gadgets over a separate desk, and shared an elaborate telescope, which was positioned near the wide picture window that faced the S-Curve on Lake Sh.o.r.e Drive and the murky sight of Lake Michigan. James had a framed Air France poster of Paris over his bed, while Felix had a collection of framed postcards depicting large sailboats at sea over his.

Felix sat next to me at the edge of stiff bottom bunk. "I hope there isn't a lot of homework tonight."

"No, thank G.o.d, only about an hour's worth. I'll tell you about all the teachers and stuff over dinner. Your parents would probably like to hear it, anyway."

"Great."

"And then what?" I have a suggestion.

"We can go swimming. There's a huge pool and health club in the bas.e.m.e.nt. You'll love it."

No, that's not what I was thinking of. "I don't think one of your suits will fit me." But I'll do without one if you will.

"No. I'll get one of my Dad's. He isn't much bigger than you are."

"Sounds fine." Felix did not move to get up. I nudged him gently with an elbow. "Well? Let's eat, buddy."

"Thanks for coming over tonight." Felix looked down at his lap, pretty much where I was trying not to look.

I tried not to sound as painfully grateful as I suddenly felt I was to be there, with Felix. "Well, thanks for inviting me."

Someone came in the front door. Arlene called out for us from the kitchen. I gulped loudly before reaching across Felix's chest pushing him softly back onto the bed, leaving my arm draped across him as I leaned backwards and settled on an elbow, my forced blank face close to his.

Felix hid his confusion with a half-smile. "Whats up, bro?"

Bro? Man, did I like the sound of that! "Tell me what you're thinking about, Felix." Quick, before I blurt out what I'm thinking about!

Felix's eyes closed for a moment. "You never told me why you don't like going home anymore."

"Because every time I think about it, it hurts so much I want to cry," I sighed. Felix reached up and squeezed my arm once, but looked at the bedrooms closed door instead of at me. This can't be what was on his mind, I thought. "It's not that I don't want to tell you, though, or talk to you about anything else." Felix finally turned back to face me and squeezed my arm once more. Now, finally, our eyes met. They swallowed the others whole.

n.o.body had ever looked at me like that before. "I just want you to go first."

We each smiled, but almost as quickly, I felt Felix drift away again. What did he think was on the other side of that door? I turned his face toward mine, my fingertips tingling with the contact. I camouflaged the lump in my throat by looking at my watch, supposedly to urge Felix on.

He nibbled on his lip before replying. "We move around a lot. Dad has a lot of money. Well, it's all from Grandma, really. But he goes from one project to the next, and we have to pick up and go with him. Just like that, sometimes." He snapped his fingers harshly.

"It sounds like a lot of fun."

Felix tried to smile, but couldn't. He shook his head doubtfully. "Sometimes, I guess. It's one thing when you're little, because you can make friends anywhere. You know? You just walk up to another kid and say, 'Will you be my friend?', but that gets a lot harder when you get older."

"Wow. You're a whole sixteen."

"I'm serious. I've got friends in back in Cleveland, and cousins and friends all over Florida and New York City. My favorite aunt lives in Vermont. But I don't have any friends here with me, now, except you, and I may be gone by Hanukkah, uh, Christmas."

I glanced away from Felix, toward the city lights outside his bedroom window. All those people doing whatever they did, the wind blowing, the waves on the lake, the stars, if you could see the d.a.m.ned things with all the glare from the buildings, it all seemed so distant. It was just us lying there together, and, at a time in my life that resembled one giant b.u.mper car ride without the rubber b.u.mpers, it felt like a million dollars.

"Will you promise me something?"

I looked back at my friend and nodded once. He sat up and I did too, moving a few inches closer until we touched, from our shoulders to our stocking feet. "Only if you promise me something back."

"Okay." Felix took a deep breath and folded his hands together, as if he was unsure whether to beg or pray or something while he asked. "We're friends. At least, I think we're friends." Friends. Wow. I put my arm on his shoulders, like Nicolasha taught me to, like Papu used to when I was younger and didn't cry so much, like Mom and Dad did...a long time ago. "We might be friends for years. Maybe even for the rest of our lives."

"It depends on what you get me for Christmas."

Felix laughed, or, rather, exhaled in a short breath, like he might have started crying, if he didn't think he'd ruin dinner or have his mother throw a knife at him. "But when I leave..."

"If you leave..."

Felix's lowered head shook slowly. "When I leave, whenever I do, promise me we'll spend my whole last weekend down here together, just doing everything, all over the city, and when the weekend ends, we won't say anything. We'll hug each other until someone makes fun of us. And then we'll walk away, but stay friends, for as long as we can. Okay? Its a promise?"

I didn't know what to say or how to feel at that particular moment of my life. It was like I had touched something outside of me I didn't even know existed, and was being touched, too, and had no idea what to do about it, other than to want to feel that way for as long as I could. So I pretended it was all a little joke, as if we were in some idiot school play or something.

"What if I don't like the way you give hugs?"

Felix gave me a hard stare. "Promise?"

I returned his look meanly. "Hey, I spent all last weekend crying, like I was six, totally helpless, with no one there. I hate feeling like that, and I keep doing it, more and more, and I don't want to. But I probably will, maybe even with you."

"What do you mean, feel that way or cry? You wont be helpless if Im around. And I dont care if you cry in front of me. No one ever has before, but I wont mind. Boys can cry, too. h.e.l.l, I might start if you do!"

I exhaled hard, pulling my arm from Felix's shoulders. "My whole life is turning upside down." I could feel the edge of tears welling in my empty stomach. I clenched my jaw and tried to ignore it. "Don't make fun of me or laugh if I do." Arlene's rather insistent voice from down the hallway broke the silence between us. "Promise?"

"I promise."

I got up and took Felix's hands in mine, pulling him up from the bed. He blushed, but smiled, too. I wanted to keep holding his hands, but he snapped us both out of our preoccupation and stretched to put his arm on my shoulders as he led me out of the room to a dinner that smelled fabulous.

"You better call your parents when we're done eating."