Unknown - The Genius

When Freddy comes, he whistles. Would you look at this. He sets down his suitcase and walks to the window. Victor is trembling. He wants to reach out and touch Freddy but he does not dare. Holy Toledo Vic. You got it made. He winks at Victor and a spasm travels through Victor’s groin.

They said you got a rich cousin or something. You never told me about no rich cousin. What else he get you, you got a car?

Victor shakes his head.

Well still. I think you’re a lucky son of a bitch. And lucky me too huh? He laughs. What you look like that for Vic? Huh? You miss me? C’mere. Let me see. Christ amighty you got a hard-on. Freddy laughs. What a fuckin thing is that.

Victor is happier than he has been in his whole life. Every moment he suffered was worth it. He has his own room, he has food and paper and he has Freddy. In the morning he wakes up and watches Freddy’s chest going up and down. Freddy has light hair on his chest, Victor’s is heavy and black. Sometimes he draws Freddy sleeping. Sometimes Freddy turns over or wakes up and then the drawing is incomplete. When he wakes up he tells Victor to put his mouth on his privates. Sometimes in the middle of the night he wants that too and he wakes Victor up and tells him to get going. Victor doesn’t mind. He is in love.

TIME PASSES. Freddy stays with Victor although he doesn’t stay every night. Sometimes he disappears for two or three days at a time and Victor gets worried. He prays and bargains. Or then sometimes Freddy goes for a week at a time, a month at a time, and Victor plunges into the worst despair he has ever known, worse than before, because now he knows happiness. Freddy refuses to explain where he goes or to warn Victor first. He is there and then he is gone. Victor comes home from the park where he has been drawing trees or from the restaurant or from the shop where he buys bread to make sandwiches for lunch and the apartment is quiet, a quiet different from when Freddy steps out to take a walk or to buy a bottle of beer or whiskey. Then Victor loses his mind. He swears the way he ought not to, he rips the pillows and breaks cups. When it is over he is tired and there is a mess and still no Freddy. Then Victor begins to bargain. He begins to pray.

Whatsit matter where I go? I always come back. The fuck do you care. Stop asking me, you’re getting on my fucking nerves. You can be a real pain in the ass you know that? When Freddy’s voice sounds this way Victor is frightened. He does not want to make Freddy unhappy. He would gladly cut off his own hands and feet to please Freddy. He would cut off his balls.

Look at this. It’s pathetic. Freddy picks up a pillowcase with a dark oily smudge where Victor puts his head every night. Do some fucking laundry.

Victor doesn’t know how to do laundry. Freddy takes him to the Laundromat. You put a nickel in, you put the soap in. Now you don’t have to live like an animal. Freddy laughs. The sound makes Victor’s heart grow. But another part of him doesn’t know what to feel. On the one hand he wants Freddy to smile; on the other hand, he was just feeling so low about himself that he now has a hard time feeling happy. He is all ajumbled, as Mrs. Greene used to say. Now that they live together all the time—sleeping in the same bed, sharing their meals, breathing the same air for most of the day—Victor sees things about Freddy that he didn’t see before. The way his moods change. Long angry speeches. Then compliments dropping out of the clear blue sky. Victor does not understand. He tries to think of another gift to give Freddy. That will make him happy.

Also Freddy refuses to go to church. Victor cannot convince him. He goes alone and prays for the both of them.

Time passes. The seasons dance. Things change. Freddy comes and goes. Victor lives and dies. The strain hurts him. He wants Freddy to stay and never leave. Days become nights become days and Victor’s eyes blur.

Stop crying. Stop it.

Victor cannot stop.

You’re worse than a broad sometimes. What the hell is wrong with you. I swear to God I ought to knock hell out of you sometimes and you’d get what I mean. You shut your goddamned mouth. Goddammit I will split and you have no idea how fast. I ain’t got to stay here one more minute. I got plenty of people I can go see. You think you’re the only one I know? Fat fucking chance. You got no idea. You can be really stupid sometimes you know that? How the hell are you so thick. You don’t know a thing about the world, you don’t know about things happening two feet in front of you. You just sit there like a chimp doodling. Don’t gimme no pictures, I don’t want any fucking pictures. You really piss me off. You’re pissing me off right now. I swear one day I’m going to bash your fucking face in. Give me that fucking thing. Give it back.

Victor throws the bottle out the window. It sails to the earth and explodes.

Oh now I’m going to get you. I’m going to get you for that. You’re nothing, if I threw you out the window you’d be a stain on the sidewalk they’d clean you up faster than pigeon shit. You think that’s a wiseguy thing to do, I wasn’t halfway done with that you son of a bitch. Freddy pins Victor’s arms down with his knees. He opens his fly and his privates fall out. Victor tries to put his mouth on the tip but Freddy slaps him. Don’t you fucking touch it. Don’t you fucking try. Freddy pulls on his privates and says Fuck, fuck. Then Victor is wet. Freddy relaxes, the blood leaves his face. He says All right.

Victor is twenty-seven. It is the week of the Fourth of July, and a summer rainstorm has caused the bunting to run, red and white and blue in the gutters. Victor stands at the window. Freddy has been gone for two days. Victor no longer tries to predict when Freddy will come back, and as rain streaks the glass he prepares himself for a long and lonesome stretch.

The key turns in the door. Freddy stands there dripping. Gimme a towel.

For the next few days Freddy is quieter than usual. He lies on the bed most of the day. Victor thinks it might be the heat, the rain makes the heat worse. He has the weather all written down. He keeps track of every day. He started and he does not intend to stop, it helps him separate one day from another.

The rain lets up. Freddy sits up in bed. I’m going out.

An hour and a half later he returns with newspapers. Victor watches as Freddy reads them. He turns pages impatiently, then throws the paper down and goes to sleep.

The next day he goes out again and comes home with the papers. This time he stops on one page and says Well shit.

Victor looks at the paper. There is a picture of a boy. His name is Henry Strong. He has short spiky hair. He looks sort of like a squirrel.

Freddy says I guess he wasn’t too strong after all huh? Then he laughs. He looks at the window. It’s raining. I think it’ll keep up.

Victor nods.

Freddy sighs deeply, stretches, and lies down.

Victor keeps the picture of the boy.

A month later Freddy comes home with another newspaper. Victor tries to look but Freddy pushes him and says Don’t read over my shoulder. Victor doesn’t know what the problem is but he obeys. The next morning when Freddy is sleeping Victor goes to look. He sees another boy named Eddie Cardinale. Victor keeps that picture, too.

Summer turns to fall and then to winter. In those months Freddy sometimes brings back papers and Victor reads them. In San Francisco somebody has killed a woman. In Hanoi they drop bombs. Freddy is often in strange moods. He goes out late at night and walks around for hours, returning as the sun comes up over the brick buildings. Often Victor hears him leave and cannot fall back asleep. He sits at the window until he sees Freddy’s shape crossing the courtyard. Only then does Victor close his eyes.