A Note in the Margin (19 page)

“Will John be all right?” David asked softly.

“So long as you’re careful and always use condoms.”

He nodded again but David had already decided to slip away quietly if there was any chance that he was a risk to John.

“Hey, I meant to say earlier; those books you dropped in yesterday were a big hit.” Barbara smiled, hoping to give David something else to think about. “Any chance you could do that on a regular basis?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a slight frown, but the idea was implanted and Barbara had managed to divert some of his thoughts.

John
frowned and tried to force his clothes to fit the drawer, but still they bulged out and stopped it from closing. He pulled at the handle in frustration and hauled out a fawn cable knit sweater.
Shit, I don’t even remember buying this.
He threw it on the bed and sifted through the drawer until he found another couple of items to remove. With a small pile of clothes on the bed he was finally able to close three of the four drawers.

He looked at the empty bottom drawer and smiled.
Perfect.

John lifted the white paper shopping bag that held David’s few belongings. Not meant for such long-term use, it was torn at one of the corners and the glue on the seam was starting to give way. John carefully placed it next to the dresser beside the empty drawer.

David
had retreated to his chair fairly early. He’d already rearranged the entire science fiction section, washing down the shelves as he went, but had hit a point where he simply “lost” what he was doing. David stood and looked at the tidy shelves, feeling agitated and not sure what to do next. When a customer reached past him, David shrank back and headed for the safety of the battered leather chair.

It didn’t surprise Jamie to see David curled into his chair, face all but buried in a novel. He picked up the cookie tin and wandered into the secondhand book section.

“You got sci-fi done fast,” Jamie said as he flopped down in the chair next to him and pried off the lid of the tin. David simply nodded without looking up from the book.

“Cookie?” Jamie asked. He grabbed one out for himself and waited. When David didn’t acknowledge the offer Jamie sighed and asked, “So when do you get the results?”

“Tomorrow,” David answered a little too quickly. He closed the book and put it on the floor slightly under his chair. “I have to call after eleven.”

Jamie put his hand gently on David’s arm and lied, “I’m sure it’ll be okay, Dave.”

David’s breathing faltered slightly and he looked away, holding on tightly to the denial he couldn’t speak. It was hard for Jamie to watch. He knew David was worried, but for the first time he understood just how genuinely frightened David was. His hand slipped down David’s arm and threaded through fingers drawn into a loose fist. The squeeze of his fingers was returned and David gave him a little smile. Jamie smiled back but had to ask, “Have you talked to John about it?”

David looked down at their clasped hands and shook his head.

“You can’t go through this on your own, Dave, you know… if things aren’t okay. Even though I think they will be.”

“I’ll know soon and John’s worried enough,” David said in a firm monotone. He hesitated, then added as he looked down the store to the front counter, “You’ll help John, won’t you, Jamie?”

You’ll help John, won’t you?
Jamie was about to answer that of course he would, until it hit him what David was actually asking. “Don’t you even think about it, David. Don’t you fucking dare!” Jamie growled in an angry but hushed voice.

When David didn’t answer Jamie pushed the point. “He loves you, David, and don’t think you’ll be doing him any favors by not including him. John needs to go through this with you. Don’t shut him out.” Jamie stood up and kissed David lightly on the temple before saying, “Don’t shut either of us out, okay?”

As Jamie walked to the front counter his hand swiped across his eyes to rub away an imaginary irritation. John looked up at him and frowned, unsure if he should ask what was wrong, but Jamie shook his head and said quietly, “Leave him for a while, John.”

The
brown paper bag tossed on the counter in front of him startled John until he realized it was just Jamie back with the lunches. He pulled out his sandwich and watched Jamie’s daily ritual of heading to the back of the store to split his lunch with David. John had suggested that they buy David his own sandwich, but both men had looked at him as if he’d said something particularly daft.

“Lunch, Davey.” Jamie grinned and sat beside him. David had his sketchbook out but was writing rather than drawing. He looked up at Jamie and said, “I might skip it today. I was thinking I could take a walk to the library instead.”

“What’ve you been planning?” Jamie asked, trying to read the scrawled list written on the corner of a page full of words.

“I’m not sure.” David shrugged and made a point of closing the book. “But I’ve been doing some thinking since yesterday and Barbara said something I want to check out.”

Jamie’s curiosity was definitely piqued, but experience told him that he’d have to wait until David was ready to volunteer his plans. He shot David a cheeky look and said, “Okay, keep your secret… but take some lunch with you, yeah?” Before David had a chance to answer, Jamie put both sandwiches back in the bag and securely twisted the corners. David took the bag and smiled his thanks.

With
his sandwich safely in his jacket pocket, David walked the streets he had walked so many times before. But it was different this time; he had food, money, a place to live, and most important of all, the suggestion of a purpose. He hadn’t thought it all through. This was just a beginning, and that in itself was a big enough step.

Although it was still cold, the sun shone and warmed David’s back as he approached the somewhat imposing façade of the City Library. He was glad they’d resisted changing its name to Community Resource Center like so many others; there was something solid and permanent about the word
library
. He smiled at the solid columns and decided not to go in quite yet.

Pulling the brown paper bag out of his pocket, David sat on the concrete base of one of the statues at the bottom of the stairs. He looked up at the discolored bronze military man on his horse. The front hoof was raised in a noble and defiant gesture. David chewed thoughtfully on one of the triangles and splayed his fingers under the hoof, feeling the realistic indentations in the sole. His fingertips barely reached the edges of the hoof.
Larger than life,
he mused, and again glanced up at the hero on horseback. He pulled the other half of the sandwich out and smiled.
Jamie’s half.

With the last of the sandwich finished, David carefully folded the paper bag and put it back in his pocket. He absently patted the horse’s fetlock and walked up the steps into the library entrance.

Like all large libraries, it provided plenty of reading space ranging from lounge chairs to student carrels. It brought back memories. At the start David had tried to find refuge here. It was quiet and he’d needed the “stillness”. He’d managed for a while, hiding away in the tall shelves or among the elderly who frequented the library to escape the loneliness of their own four walls. But as David got dirtier and more desperate it was made clear that he wasn’t welcome anymore. It seemed that even a daytime haven for scholars and the lonely had limits.

The reference librarian smiled at him as he approached and waited patiently while he collected his thoughts. “I’m not sure if you can help me,” he said quietly and looked at the neatly cut squares of paper piled on the desk ready for hurriedly written Dewey numbers.

The librarian smiled and raised an eyebrow.

David could feel the thump of his heart as he pushed himself to speak. “The homeless shelter… um, I’m trying to find some old books to give to the shelter.” The woman looked at him for a moment while she considered his request.

“Okay.” David glanced up briefly when she answered. “Just give me a minute and I’ll ring through to the office. They might be able to help you.” He took a breath, gave a barely visible nod, and waited.

After several minutes standing at the front desk, David hugged his jacket a little tighter around himself and decided to give up. He was only a couple of steps away when a different woman’s voice called him back. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting, sir. How can I help you?”

David acknowledged her with a nervous smile and quietly told her his idea. She listened carefully to his request and nodded thoughtfully when he’d finished. “You know, this might be a solution to a problem I’ve had for a while. Come with me.” Without waiting for an answer, she turned and started a brisk walk through to the workroom. A little taken aback by her sudden departure, David needed to jog a couple of steps to catch up with her. The workroom was filled with the typical clutter of the overworked and understaffed; books sat in piles and on shelves in various stages of processing while the library staff ploughed on with only a curious look as he passed. He was taken to a tiny adjoining room with a very unofficial printout taped to the door stating
Purgatory.

“Shelf weeding is a constant process and these books are to be pulped,” she announced as she waved her hand in the direction of the shelves partially obscured by large boxes sealed with masking tape. “But I hate the thought of books being destroyed no matter how old they might be, so if you can put them to some use you are more than welcome to them.”

He moved slowly into the little room and the smell of new print similar to the store gave way to one he was more familiar with; the once carefully chosen and read, now discarded to the secondhand bookshelf. It was a combination of dust, old binding glue and well-thumbed paper. He looked around at box stacked on box and knew this was bigger than his own little problems. He could do something with this.

When David finally emerged he had two big bags of books and, more importantly, an idea.

“You
want the light off?” John asked gently as he climbed into his side of the bed. David had gone to bed an hour earlier, but was still awake, facing the far wall. He rolled onto his back, smiled at John, and nodded. John flicked off the lamp and settled beside him. Both men were silent while John struggled with how to ask what he needed to. Eventually he propped himself up on one elbow and lay his hand on David’s chest. “We haven’t talked much, Dave… about tomorrow, I mean.”

David peered at him through the dim light of the room and said honestly, “Never been much good at that.”

John laughed a little sadly at the irony of the comment. “We’re a right pair, aren’t we? I’m bloody useless at saying what I feel… always have been.”

“You said a lot the other day,” David whispered.

John’s fingertip traced David’s jawline and he grinned. “I did, didn’t I?” He bent down, kissed the path of his fingers, and murmured, “I meant it.” John settled back and whispered, “Sometimes I can’t believe how lucky I am that I found you, that you let me be part of your life.”

The words had barely left his lips when John felt David tense. A shadow seemed to pass between them and John knew it was time and asked the question. “You think you’re positive, don’t you?”

Icy fear gripped him when he heard the quiet “Yes.”

Unsure if he wanted to know the answer to his next question, John watched his thumb slowly smooth over David’s chest hair. “Can you tell me why?”

David fought to control the building anxiety and suddenly needed to stop John touching him. He slid out of John’s reach and sat on the edge of the bed. His jaw clenched and unclenched, not wanting to speak the truth as he saw it.
I have to let him be part of this. John needs to know.
His voice was surprisingly devoid of emotion when he stated what he saw as a simple fact. “You were right the other day, John…. I
am
a whore.”

The words impacted John with the force of a fist. He stayed on his side of the bed and stared at the back of the man he loved, devastated at hearing his own words and worse, that David
believed
them to be true. After one false start at speaking, John got up and crawled across the bed to kneel behind him. He tentatively placed his hand on David’s back and murmured, “You did that to survive and see your son. That’s not you. It
doesn’t
define you as a person, David.”

“I might have put you in danger, John,” David said, his misery now obvious.

John’s lips brushed the back of his neck and he moved his hands around to slowly stroke over David’s chest. Settling behind David, John said, “I’m okay…. We’re always careful, always safe.”

David nodded and leaned back a little. He knew Jamie had been right; they needed to talk. His first words were hesitant. “A man… a
client
… refused to use a condom. I told him no, but he said he’d already paid and said it wasn’t my choice anymore.” David stopped. John thought he was finished and was surprised when David cleared his throat and continued. “While he fucked me, he laughed that he never used rubbers and was probably leaving me with a little something. Said he wanted to
spread the love.
His idea of a joke, I guess.”

John lowered his head until his forehead rested lightly on David’s shoulder. His voice was slightly muffled when he asked, “Is that what you dream about?”

David was determined to talk now that he’d started, but the words for this wouldn’t come. He shook his head and remained silent. John felt the change and needed to be closer. He moved away just enough to sit on the bed behind David, then shuffled forward and pressed himself solidly against David’s back with legs on either side of his hips. John held David against him, enveloped him, and asked, “Can you tell me?”