The Night Listener : A Novel

his doctors at every turn. After a while the matter of his survival became just another household duty that had fallen exclusively to one partner, like taking out the garbage or doing the taxes. I learned enough to give capsule updates to friends and reporters, but that was the extent of it. I told myself I was helping in other ways: providing the certainty of home and love, a respite from the grim rigmarole of staying alive.
    “You’re the expert,” I said lamely.
    “He doesn’t even know me.”
    “Wanna bet?”
    He gave me a sardonic little smile. “He thinks I’m a coppersmith, right?”
    “No.” I returned the same smile, and God it felt good to connect again. “He’s not an idiot. He knows what fiction is. He read about you in the Milwaukee paper. And Poz , if I remember correctly.” Jess blinked at me.
    “I think you’d like him,” I added.
    “What’s not to like? He’s Tiny Tim.”
    “You are not cynical about this,” I said in reprimand. “Don’t even pretend to be.”
    A look of mild amusement crossed his face. “Does he have a number? Or do I just rub a brass lamp or something?” I reached for my jacket again and pulled out the scrap of paper I’d brought, handing it to him. “I’m not making this up,” I said.
    I must have stayed there no longer than twenty minutes. It hurt too much to see him on his new turf, to realize how much he was already part of it. I even told him so as I left, prompting him to frown in sympathy, which just made the pain official and sent it deeper into my bones.
    I got really stoned that night, knowing it would send me to bed—and oblivion—that much sooner. I was woken at midnight by the sound of my own voice coming from Jess’s office: “This is Gabriel. Please leave a message at the tone.” I rolled over with a groan, consulted the clock, waited for my caller to identify himself on the machine. The moon was fat and fluorescent that night, casting shadows in the bedroom.
    “Gabriel…are you there?”
    It was Pete.
    I reached for the bedside phone. “Kiddo. What are you doing up?”
    “I’m sorry, man. I couldn’t sleep.”
    “That’s okay. What time is it there? Three o’clock or something?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Are you all right?”
    “Oh, yeah. Just felt like talking.”
    “Cool.”
    Pete giggled. “You’re totally asleep, aren’t you?”
    “No. It’s fine. Is your mom awake?”
    “Are you kidding? She sleeps like a log.”
    “Are you under the covers with a flashlight?”
    “What?”
    “That’s what I used to do.”
    “When?”
    “When I was your age. Well, younger, actually. Never mind.”
    “Shit, man. I didn’t know they had flashlights back then.”
    “Okay. I’m going back to sleep.”
    Another giggle.
    “I feel like hell, anyway. So cut me some slack.”
    “What’s the matter?”
    “I went to see Jess.”
    “Did you tell him about me?” There was a suggestion of hope in Pete’s voice.
    “Sure. He’s gonna call you, I think. I gave him your number. He’s got some ideas about your treatment.”
    A silence and then: “We don’t have to talk about that, you know.
    That shit gets old.”
    “Not just that, Pete. He mostly wants to meet you.”
    “What’s the matter, then? Did you guys have a fight?”
    “No. We were very polite to each other. That’s what hurt so much.” I hesitated a moment, then added: “That and seeing a picture of his boyfriend.”
    “Fuck. You didn’t tell me about that.”
    “I don’t know what he is, really. Jess used to call him his motorcycle buddy. They went on little trips around town together. Then they planned a big trip to Big Sur on the weekend of Jess’s birthday. Which totally threw me because Jess had never wanted a fuss made over his birthday. He was always uncomfortable with that kind of attention.”
    “He wasn’t with you on his birthday?”
    “Well…he came back on the night of, and we had dinner together.
    He divvied it up between the two of us.”
    “Maybe he and this guy weren’t…”
    “No, they were. Jess told me so a month later.”
    “What happened?”
    “Oh…” I sighed at the memory. “We were at a sidewalk café, and he told me, and I started crying and talking really loud. Which is not like me in a public place. He must have thought it would be safer there, with all those people around. I asked what this guy Frank meant to him, and he said they weren’t seeing each other exclusively.
    This was just one of the people he was