The Night Listener : A Novel

nothing more to be said, nothing that would fix us.
    I drifted into troubled sleep, only to be roused by Pete’s voice on the machine. And this time I was sure it was him.
    “…just had this funny feeling. So if you don’t feel like talking, I’ll try you again when—”
    “Pete?”
    “Oh, good, Dad. You’re there.”
    “Yeah.”
    “What’s going on?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I’ve been getting these signals all day. Something’s been bothering you big time.”
    Even in that groggy state I was completely unnerved, so I tried to jest my way out. “What is this? The Psychic Friends Network?”
    “I’m serious. What’s going on?”
    “Nothing…well…I’m disappointed, of course, that I won’t be seeing you.”
    “Me, too. But Mom says we can do it in a month, if you still want to. They’ve put me on a new protocol.”
    “Well, that’s good,” I said vaguely.
    “But that’s not it, is it?”
    “Not what?”
    “What’s bothering you. Have you had a fight with Jess?” Astonished, I wondered for a moment if Jess had told Pete as much, but that didn’t seem likely given his skepticism about the boy. “I did, actually,” I said at last. “Yesterday.”
    “I knew it.”
    How could everyone around me be so rife with intuition when I felt like a blind man stumbling through a minefield?
    “We had a talk,” I admitted. “And we said some things we’ve never said before.”
    Pete took that in for a moment. “Well, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes it’s bad to leave too much unsaid.” Tell me about it, I thought, wondering if this was the wisdom of a therapist or just of a kid who’d been seeing a therapist. And did it matter, really, when I still had so much to get off my chest?
    “So what did you fight about?” asked Pete.
    “Oh, lots of stuff. He says I never confront things. That I don’t communicate what I’m really thinking.”
    “Is that true?”
    “Oh, yeah. I’m a big scaredy-cat.”
    “What were you afraid of with him?”
    “The usual. That he wouldn’t love me anymore if he knew what was really on my mind.” I could have been talking about Pete, I realized, and maybe I was, on some unconscious level—getting as close to the truth as I could get without tipping my hand. “You learn to camouflage when you’re a baby homo. You learn to tiptoe around things. At least I did. And it’s a hard habit to break, even when you’re grownup and out of the closet.”
    “What about yesterday? Did you tell him everything that was on your mind?”
    “Some of it. I said how hard it was to love someone who might be dying. To feel closer and closer to them but know you can’t count on them being there in your old age.”
    “Well, that was the truth, wasn’t it?”
    “Yeah, but just part of it. Actually, I think it was easier for me to commit to Jess because I knew it wouldn’t have to last forever. And I could even feel a little noble in the process. I gave him hell yesterday for throwing away what we had, but you know what? When things got too depressing, I used to tell myself I’d have another shot at loving someone. I’d see myself back at the baths again, chasing my dick around one more time before it got too late to do it. And I would imagine this guy I’d meet someday, who wouldn’t carry the virus and wouldn’t be as angry as Jess, and we would get it right finally. I was disloyal, Pete. I accused him of that, but I did the same thing, really. I thought about a future he would never be part of. I dreaded his death, but I knew it would give me an out. I knew it would give me another shot at things.”
    “C’mon, Dad, that’s just a protective thing. It’s natural to—”
    “So why can’t I do it now? Why can’t I take this golden opportunity to spread my wings and meet new people?”
    “You will.”
    I didn’t want to hear that. I wanted him to tell me that Jess would be coming back.
    Him , not her. Wanted him to tell me that.
    At dusk I walked Hugo up to the edge of the forest in an effort to clear my head. And something troubling occurred to me: that my relationship with Pete bore a distinct resemblance to the one I’d had with Jess. In both instances I had split myself into two personalities, one of whom was capable of fearless, unconditional love, while the other, braced against the prospect of imminent loss, warned me not to surrender completely.
    So who was the multiple now?
     
    FIFTEEN

    ROOM TONE

    THE NEXT FIVE OR SIX