works.”
“You’re sick.”
“You have no idea. Flip it.”
James did, caught it, and smacked it on his forearm. “Tails. I’ll take the ham, please.”
Michael waggled his eyebrows. “I wasn’t hoping you’d take my—”
“Don’t say it.”
“—ham sandwich,” Michael finished innocently. “What?”
James rolled his eyes. “That was way harder than it should have been.”
“That’s what he said.”
James took half the veg-and-cream-cheese sandwich and stuffed it into Michael’s mouth to shut him up. Michael grinned around the bread and then ate with an air of absolute virtue.
They ate in silence for a bit, and James started to calm down enough to really take in the view. He could not believe how stunningly beautiful the place was, with the white peak of Rainier right there against the deep blue sky, the purple and pink wild flowers, green pines, and stunning view over the rolling valley and distant jagged peaks. It was hard to believe it was real. It made him feel happy to be alive in a way he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. And he was here with a beautiful boy, too. Even if this was as good as his life could get, he’d sign the contract with the devil right now.
“Is it a spinal injury?” Michael asked softly, breaking the peaceful quiet. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.”
Weirdly enough, James found he didn’t mind talking about it. Maybe it was looking at all this majesty, at the heights nature could achieve. It gave him a sense of being just one more tiny instance of life on this earth, imperfect but created nonetheless. It gave him a little bit of distance from which to view himself as a curiosity.
“It was polio.”
“Wow. Really.” Michael sounded surprised and sad. “I didn’t know people our age got polio anymore.”
James cleared his throat. “My mother was a free spirit, a hippie. She loved to travel. I was born in Tibet, actually. She specifically went there to have me due to the spiritualism of the place, I guess. She says I was conceived in Spain, or it might have been Majorca. She wasn’t real sure. I never knew my father.”
“She sounds like quite a character.”
“Yup.” James fiddled with his soda can. “She traveled with me papoose style when I was a baby. We hung out in Austria for a bit, on a small commune. Then when I was five, she took me to India.”
“Oh.” The weight in Michael’s voice said it all.
“Yup. That’s where I got sick.”
Michael scooted closer and leaned a forearm on James’s shoulder. It was something James maybe would have objected to, normally. But sitting in the sun in this beautiful spot talking, it just felt sort of companionable—and comforting without being pitying. James let him keep it here.
“Both of your legs were paralyzed by the polio virus?”
James nodded. “Polio is weird, you know? Some people who get it don’t end up with anything worse than flu symptoms. Others spend their lives in an iron lung. When it infects the spinal cord, the damage can end up in different parts of the body, like a bloody roll of the cosmic die,” he finished dryly. “Someone once told me I was lucky, but I’m disinclined to feel fortunate.”
“Did you and your mom come back to the States afterward?”
James finished the drink and crushed the can. “Yeah, we did. Uh, maybe now would be a good time to say ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’”
M ICHAEL WANTED to push, to learn more about James’s family, to hear about what it was like growing up with his disability. But James had suddenly gone stiff, his voice remote, and Michael knew any more questions would be unwelcome. So he took a couple of breaths to let his curiosity go.
Without really thinking about it, he took James’s hand. It was a sort of I’m sorry if I pushed and, Michael hoped, I’m sorry about the polio too, but it doesn’t matter to me . Whatever message James chose to read into it, he didn’t pull his
“You’re sick.”
“You have no idea. Flip it.”
James did, caught it, and smacked it on his forearm. “Tails. I’ll take the ham, please.”
Michael waggled his eyebrows. “I wasn’t hoping you’d take my—”
“Don’t say it.”
“—ham sandwich,” Michael finished innocently. “What?”
James rolled his eyes. “That was way harder than it should have been.”
“That’s what he said.”
James took half the veg-and-cream-cheese sandwich and stuffed it into Michael’s mouth to shut him up. Michael grinned around the bread and then ate with an air of absolute virtue.
They ate in silence for a bit, and James started to calm down enough to really take in the view. He could not believe how stunningly beautiful the place was, with the white peak of Rainier right there against the deep blue sky, the purple and pink wild flowers, green pines, and stunning view over the rolling valley and distant jagged peaks. It was hard to believe it was real. It made him feel happy to be alive in a way he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. And he was here with a beautiful boy, too. Even if this was as good as his life could get, he’d sign the contract with the devil right now.
“Is it a spinal injury?” Michael asked softly, breaking the peaceful quiet. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.”
Weirdly enough, James found he didn’t mind talking about it. Maybe it was looking at all this majesty, at the heights nature could achieve. It gave him a sense of being just one more tiny instance of life on this earth, imperfect but created nonetheless. It gave him a little bit of distance from which to view himself as a curiosity.
“It was polio.”
“Wow. Really.” Michael sounded surprised and sad. “I didn’t know people our age got polio anymore.”
James cleared his throat. “My mother was a free spirit, a hippie. She loved to travel. I was born in Tibet, actually. She specifically went there to have me due to the spiritualism of the place, I guess. She says I was conceived in Spain, or it might have been Majorca. She wasn’t real sure. I never knew my father.”
“She sounds like quite a character.”
“Yup.” James fiddled with his soda can. “She traveled with me papoose style when I was a baby. We hung out in Austria for a bit, on a small commune. Then when I was five, she took me to India.”
“Oh.” The weight in Michael’s voice said it all.
“Yup. That’s where I got sick.”
Michael scooted closer and leaned a forearm on James’s shoulder. It was something James maybe would have objected to, normally. But sitting in the sun in this beautiful spot talking, it just felt sort of companionable—and comforting without being pitying. James let him keep it here.
“Both of your legs were paralyzed by the polio virus?”
James nodded. “Polio is weird, you know? Some people who get it don’t end up with anything worse than flu symptoms. Others spend their lives in an iron lung. When it infects the spinal cord, the damage can end up in different parts of the body, like a bloody roll of the cosmic die,” he finished dryly. “Someone once told me I was lucky, but I’m disinclined to feel fortunate.”
“Did you and your mom come back to the States afterward?”
James finished the drink and crushed the can. “Yeah, we did. Uh, maybe now would be a good time to say ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’”
M ICHAEL WANTED to push, to learn more about James’s family, to hear about what it was like growing up with his disability. But James had suddenly gone stiff, his voice remote, and Michael knew any more questions would be unwelcome. So he took a couple of breaths to let his curiosity go.
Without really thinking about it, he took James’s hand. It was a sort of I’m sorry if I pushed and, Michael hoped, I’m sorry about the polio too, but it doesn’t matter to me . Whatever message James chose to read into it, he didn’t pull his
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