Where Nerves End

“my God, I cant let you just suffer like this.”
I said nothing and just let him put the needles in. Some of them hurt, some didnt. Crazy as it was, I didnt mind the sting; at least it gave me something to think about besides his fingers on my skin. Beggars couldnt be choosers here.
Once the needles were in place, Michael left me to relax for a while. In a masochistic, pride-driven kind of way, I hoped the pain wouldnt decrease. I didnt want him to be right, and for this to be the solution since it was also the cause.
But in spite of my stubborn thoughts, the muscles gradually relaxed. They ached, almost burning in some places, but the bright red claws slowly loosened their grip. By the time he came back, my shoulder was bearably uncomfortable and my neck wasnt full of steel cables anymore.
“Go ahead and sit up,” he said.
“Uh, what about the needles?”
“Theyll stay in for a few more minutes. Im going to try something a little different this time.”
“Waterboarding to go with the car battery?” I started to sit up, pausing when the room listed beneath me.
“Only if this doesnt work,” he said, steadying me with a hand on my arm. Once Id found my equilibrium, he sat beside me and reached for something on the coffee table. “Besides, I dont have the car battery here, so youre stuck with this.”
In one hand, he had a lighter. In the other, what looked suspiciously like a very large blunt: thin white paper wrapped around some herbs, twisted on one end, but about seven or eight inches long. Had it actually been a blunt—I assumed it wasnt, but what did I know?—it would have made every college kid in town weep with envy.
“Im not going to touch your skin with it.” He flicked the lighter and held it to the open end. “Youll feel some heat, but I wont burn you.”
“Thats good to—” I sniffed the air. “Is that what I think it is?”
Michael laughed as he set the lighter on the coffee table with a quiet click. “No, its not marijuana.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yes, Im sure about that. And youre not the first to think it, I assure you.”
“Does it have any of the same effects?”
“I wish.”
You and me both.
“Like I said, Im just going to hold it close to your skin,” he said. “It wont touch you, so it wont burn.” He rested one hand on my other shoulder, and a second later, intense heat warmed the center of the worst muscle spasm.
Instinctively, I tried to draw away from the heat, but Michaels hand kept me mostly still.
“I wont burn you, I promise,” he said. “Just relax.”
Closing my eyes, I exhaled, and resisted the urge to draw away again as the warmth moved closer to my skin. The heat wasnt quite uncomfortable, but it was close. Sort of like the hot showers I took to alleviate the pain— right on the edge of too hot.
“So what exactly does this do?” I asked.
“Its called moxibustion.” His hand moved from my injured shoulder to the side of my neck, and that gentle touch made me shiver. As he continued speaking, the only part of his explanation I caught was something about the heat drawing out toxins. The rest faded into the background, stopping short of my synapses because I was too focused on the moving, not quite burning heat, and the comparatively cool presence of his hand on my skin. His voice added to the soothing, almost mesmerizing effect. I may not have understood what he was saying, but his voice kneaded away the tension in my neck and shoulder just like the heat, the needles, and his hand.
The heat stopped. Michaels hand left my skin. I blinked a few times, slowly returning to earth and regaining my awareness of the world around me.
He took out the needles, dabbing one or two that must have been bleeding a little. When he was finished, he said, “How do you feel?”
“A lot better,” I said. “Thank you.”
“Youre welcome,” he said. “Any time you need it, all you have to do is ask.”
“Thanks.” I lowered my gaze and reached for my shirt.
“You all right?” he asked. “Besides your shoulder, I mean?”
I closed my eyes. Just thinking about answering that question sent renewed tension creeping into my muscles. I tilted my head to stretch my neck and shrugged a few times just to loosen my shoulders.
“Jason?”
Releasing my breath, I reached up and rubbed my temples. “Im just frustrated.” I laughed humorlessly and looked at him as I added, “Kind of my natural state the last year or two, I guess.”
“Anything in particular?” he