A Conspiracy of Fear by Mark Zubro

Author:Mark Zubro [Zubro, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay mystery
Publisher: MLR Press LLC
Published: 2014-05-01T16:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-FOUR

Friday – 9:36 P.M.

Once outside ourselves, sheets of rain descended upon us. The wind howled. Scott hurried ahead. I plodded behind. He looked back, saw me dragging behind, and came back.

“You okay?”

I shook my head. “I just want to go home.”

Cabs were scarce. We crossed over to Ohio Street and walked east toward home. We bent over, arm in arm, and made our way through the maelstrom.

At Michigan Avenue we finally managed to find a cab. It took us the few blocks north to our condo.

My mom and dad called to check on us. Scott and I were holding hands as we Skyped. After giving them an update, I echoed Scott, “I just feel so helpless.”

Dad said, “You talked about that Fulham guy and what he told you.”

I’d given them the barest outline about the old guy coming to me for help, but my dad notices details, all of them, from the first whiffs of the illicit cigarette I smoked when I was fourteen, to the needs of a teenager to be left alone.

My dad continued, “You could look some more into that.”

I told them what I’d done while waiting for Scott.

“So look into it some more,” my dad said. “You investigate. I know you. You got involved in research and finding stuff out. You get totally absorbed. You could do more.”

“I don’t want to forget what happened.”

“You never will,” my dad said. “It will be with you forever, but for the moment, you’ve got to get past the immediate horror. Like you did in the marines.”

He was right. I’d survived that. He and I had some long talks after I’d gotten back. I’d told him things that I’d only whispered to Scott after we’d been together for five years.

My mom said, “Scott can’t go to Nebraska or anywhere else. He’s got doctor appointments.”

Scott said, “I’ll skip them and go with.”

My mom said, “You can do that, but you don’t want to endanger your rehab. That’s an important part of your life. If you go and your healing is slowed or the problems exacerbated, or your career is ruined because you did go, then a mass murderer has gotten his way. He wins every time you alter your life.”

I said, “I’m scared.”

My mom said, “I’m scared for the both of you.”

My dad concurred. He added, “You will resume your lives. This isn’t your first threat.”

“You’re right.”

“And you’ve been in danger.”

We left it uncertain.

I was exhausted. We ate some leftovers and cleaned the kitchen. We took long warm showers. In bed we held each other for what seemed like hours.

I didn’t feel like talking. I was exhausted from lack of sleep and the continuous tension since the massacre.

I listened to him falling asleep then slipped out of bed, threw on the black boxer briefs he’d been wearing all day, found a flannel shirt of his that he wore while he did his wood working. It smelled of newly-sanded wood and Scott.

I sat in the living room with the lights out. When the wind gusted, rain rattled against the windows.

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