A Note in the Margin (3 page)

John didn’t switch on the heating in the room and undressed, ignoring the goose bumps on his flesh. He tried hard to convince himself that it wasn’t really a cold night, but by the time he crawled under the warmth of the duck down quilt, he was miserable. His stomach was twisted in knots and his tense muscles were threatening to cramp. His mind kept replaying the scene in the doorway and Jamie’s quiet plea: “Stay safe, man.”

“Oh, fucking hell,” John cursed and threw back the covers. He dressed quickly, grabbed his keys, and made his way back to the garage.

“What the fuck am I doing?” he muttered as he backed his car out of his spot. “David is not some fucking stray puppy.”

John found a parking bay near the shelter and walked toward the store doorway, trying to figure out what he was going to say. How was he going to explain why he was there and what was he actually going to offer David?

When he finally turned into the doorway his heart missed a beat. It was empty. John stood in the bare alcove, unsure what to do, and looked around the small space as if he’d somehow missed evidence of where David had gone. He spotted a cop standing across the road watching him. John waved and jogged over to ask, “Excuse me, officer. Did you see a man sitting in that doorway a little while ago?”

The cop gave him a long curious look before answering, “Why? Did he take something?”

“No!” John responded quickly. “No, I’m, um… I’m just looking for him, that’s all.”

“Moved ’em on. A filthy nuisance they are hanging around here and there’s too much paperwork if I haul them in.”

John’s stomach churned at the cop’s attitude, but he forced himself to stay civil. “Any idea where he might have gone?”

The cop looked directly at John and said, “Could be anywhere. Needle in a haystack. Best to leave it and head home.”

John knew it was pointless to ask any more and made his way back to his car. He drove fruitlessly around the streets for another hour before the pounding in his head and his rapidly blurring vision forced him to give up and go home.

John
had reorganized the books on the recommended fiction display twice within the space of as many hours when he found himself beginning to move the nearest title yet again. He quickly pulled his hand back and shoved it in his trouser pocket as if the rapid action could deny its original intent. He stood and stared at the neat display, then grimaced at his sudden and unfamiliar need to find pointless “busy work”. This was
not
his way; yes, he could be methodical, but he always had goals, some sort of end product.

He couldn’t settle, and what was worse, had no idea why he felt so restless.

As the day progressed John could feel the little ball of anxiety building in his stomach and Jamie had decided very quickly to give him a wide berth. It was nearly lunchtime when John looked up at the familiar tinkle of the doorbell.

John watched David carefully close the door and was surprised when the knot in his gut began unraveling, shocked that he was relieved to see David. It was then he realized that he was smiling and his hand was motioning a half-wave. Suddenly embarrassed, John dropped his hand, but David gave him a half-smile back before lowering his face and moving to his safe spot at the rear of the store.

Jamie poked his head out of the back room and asked, “Was that, Dave?”

John was flustered, caught off guard, but managed to grumble, “Yeah.”

“Cool. Here’s your tea, and can you take this one for David? I made him a coffee ’cause it was cold last night.”

John hesitated.
Damn it.
He knew Jamie was doing this on purpose, trying to make it harder for John to throw David out. He wanted to say no, that he was busy, but Jamie’s look almost dared him to do just that.

John took hold of both mugs and shot Jamie a withering look back. He stormed up to the back of the store, spilling more than the odd drop. He
really
didn’t want to do this, but couldn’t pinpoint what it was about the man that made him feel so uncomfortable.

David had already removed his boots and was settling cross-legged with a book in his hand. John’s attention had drifted to the red bookmark when David lifted his head and gave him a questioning look. Indicating the mug with a nod of his head, John announced, “Jamie made you coffee.”

David took the drink quietly and wrapped his fingers around the warm mug. With that job done John started to move away but, for some reason that he couldn’t quite fathom, he changed his mind and sat in the spare leather chair.

“Can I ask what was going on last night when we pulled up?” John queried.

David just looked at him for a long while. So long that John started to think there wasn’t going to be an answer and was prepared to leave when David replied so quietly that John had to strain to make out all the words. “They were just a couple of kids who’d drunk too much, that’s all.”

John noticed David’s reluctance but continued anyway. “Were they giving you a hard time?”

“It happens.” David shrugged.

John narrowed his eyes at what he considered a glib answer and almost pushed for more, but changed tact and said instead, “Jamie’s a good kid; he was just about hanging out the car window looking for you last night.”

David smiled a little sadly. “Maggie and Jamie have been good to me; I’ll miss her.”

That was the first time during their conversation that David had made direct eye contact. John was so taken aback by the intensity of the pale gray eyes that he couldn’t hold it and looked down at his fingers clenched tightly around his own mug of tea. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “You told Jamie you were going to the shelter last night, but I saw you later on.”

David’s gaze hardened, wondering what exactly it was that John was trying to say. “I did go, but there are very few beds free in winter and there was no room.”

John shifted uncomfortably in his seat. This was going into an area he didn’t like. It was easier to deal with David when he was simply a smelly derelict who took up store space. He knew those eyes were still on him. Despite his reluctance to hear the answer, John asked in a gentle voice, “So what happens when it’s full?”

“Depends on the weather, I guess. Sometimes the park is okay but store doorways are a good option in winter. Cuts the wind and keeps you dry.”

“But they don’t let you stay there….”

David cocked his head slightly and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear.
Why is this man listening to me?

“Is that what happened last night?” John looked away from his hands and glanced down the store to where Jamie was pretending not to hover.

David just shrugged as if dismissing it and stated, “Obstruction of a public footpath.”

Feeling totally out of his depth, John just shook his head slowly and sipped his tea. He was aware that David was looking at him with some curiosity, but knew his gaze would drop as soon as John met it.

John heard the phone ring and a moment later Jamie called for him. As he stood up, he smiled at David and felt unexpectedly warmed when the smile was returned.

The
rest of the afternoon passed with surprising ease although John couldn’t fail to notice that Jamie seemed to take great delight in introducing John to the “regular” customers. Some were civil and polite while others wanted to know every detail about his life, both past and present. He lost track of how many people assumed that John must be related to Maggie because they were both English. “It
is
a very small country, after all.” John even survived a quizzing from the local aged pensioners book group.

He was surprised that people didn’t seem too worried by David’s presence in the secondhand book section; although it was obvious that many customers ignored or avoided him. David just took it all and kept his head buried in his book or his well-used sketch pad. With a wave of guilt, John had to face the fact that
he
was one of the people who would look away and pretend that the dirty man in tatty clothes wasn’t really there.

It was wrong that David was invisible to these people,
had
been to him.

When the last customer walked out the door John clasped his hands behind his neck at the wispy edges of his fair hair and stretched his tired muscles. He was weary, but had to admit that he felt good. He grinned broadly at Jamie and said, “I think I’m getting the hang of this.”

Jamie gave him an amused look. “Definitely improving, McCann, but a long way to go ’til you reach
my
standard.”

“Cheeky bugger!” John laughed as he swiped at Jamie who easily jumped out of his reach. “Hey, want to join me for dinner?”

“This the ‘rain check,’ huh?” Jamie teased.

“Could be. Any idea where to eat around here?”

“Oh yeah, I know just the place,” Jamie enthused, almost bouncing on the spot.

John was laughing at Jamie’s seemingly boundless energy at the end of a long day when he saw David walk past and nod good night. Jamie instantly turned his attention to David and said, “Night, Dave. The weather report says it’s gonna be mild tonight, so that’s good, yeah?”

David paused and smiled at Jamie. “Yeah, that’s good.”

“Um, listen,” John said, looking from Jamie to David. “I’m shouting Jamie dinner. Want to join us?”

Jamie was visibly stunned by John’s offer, but not when David quietly thanked him, refused the offer, and walked out the door.

“What’s his problem?” John grumbled, angered by the refusal. “I thought he was okay with me now. I mean, he…. Shite. I don’t know.”

Jamie stood and looked at John for a long moment, trying to get his wording clear in his head. Finally he said in a subdued voice, “I guess he’s embarrassed, John.”

“Embarrassed? How do you mean?”

“David’s not dumb. He knows most places won’t let him in. Fuck, even the fast-food joints move them on.”

John felt a tinge of shame over his insensitivity. “I didn’t think, Jamie. I’m sorry.”

Jamie nodded slightly but said, “Hey, at least you’re trying. Now, come on, boss. You owe me dinner!”

John
laughed when he saw Jamie’s
perfect spot
. “I can’t believe you found an English pub!”

“You better believe it. My dad used to drag us here for the match of the week.” Jamie grinned over his shoulder. “They even serve that fuck awful black pudding from your end of the world.”

“Don’t knock the puddin’, mate.” John chuckled as they pushed the door open and walked into the noisy bar. “Fuck! Ale on tap and football on the telly…. I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

“Or died and gone to Bradford. I knew that posh accent was put on.”

“You have no idea how much work it took to leave the ‘lad’ in Bradford.”

Jamie was about to reply but spotted a table being vacated near the fireplace. “Yes! Come on,” he shouted excitedly and dragged John through the crush of bodies until they reached the table. “Great spot this; warm fire and good view of the match.”

The dinner was a near perfect attempt at English fish and chips and they settled comfortably to watch the football match. However, it wasn’t even halftime when Jamie turned to John and asked, “So, do you have a girlfriend… or boyfriend?”

John nearly choked on his beer as he managed to gasp, “Shit! You don’t bandy your words, do you?”

Jamie just laughed and drained his glass. “Well, you never find stuff out if you don’t ask. So, do you?”

John shook his head and let the smile slip from his face. “I have a girlfriend, of sorts.”

“What does that mean… of sorts?” Jamie queried.

John sighed. “Marian and I have been ‘going out’ for a few years, but I suppose it’s just convenient for both of us. We’re useful to each other.”

“Useful? That sounds fucked, John,” Jamie said with obvious distaste.

“Well, I never said it was true love,” John said with a grimace before emptying his glass. “I also never said we were exclusive.”

Jamie stared at him for a moment before breaking into laughter. “Come on then; the match is boring anyway.” Jamie jumped to his feet, grabbed his coat, and headed for the door.

John happily acknowledged the pleasant buzz of the alcohol as they left the warmth of the pub and they huddled together against the biting cold of the night outside that was nowhere near as mild as originally forecast.

“Fuck, it’s bloody freezing tonight,” Jamie cursed as he broke away from John and ran to the car. “Come on, man. Let me in the car before me bits drop off!”

John pressed the button on his key ring and laughed at Jamie’s inelegant dive into the passenger seat. As usual, he rifled through the CDs until he found one vaguely acceptable and slid it into the player. By the time John was out of the parking spot Jamie had settled against the headrest with his eyes closed and was singing at the top of his lungs.

He was still singing along to the CD when John pulled on the handbrake outside Jamie’s apartment. John gave a quiet laugh as Jamie finished the song and turned his head to give him a cheeky grin.

John matched his pose and asked, “Am I invited in tonight?”

Jamie’s grin widened and he waggled his eyebrows before cracking up and laughing, “Oh shit. I can’t pull off sexy looks when I’m drunk.”

John was about to argue but found himself running his fingers down Jamie’s neck instead. He leaned in until his tongue followed the path of his fingertips. Unfortunately John had only just begun in his “grand” seduction when Jamie erupted into a round of drunken giggles.

“Sorry… sorry,” Jamie said, trying desperately to suppress his mirth as he buried his face in the crook of John’s neck. John was slightly bewildered by Jamie’s reaction, but grinned into his hair and said, “Time to get you upstairs, I think.”

The journey up the stairs took slightly longer than anticipated. Jamie managed to locate his key and open the door, but as soon as they were inside the foyer he rounded on John, pushed him up against the small bank of mailboxes, and leaned full-length against him. John twined his fingers through Jamie’s dark hair and asked with an amused smirk, “Got something in mind? Or am I just a convenient resting place before you tackle the stairs?”

Jamie pushed his hips invitingly against John, wishing they weren’t cocooned in such thick overcoats, and giggled more than a little breathlessly. “I have
a lot
on my mind; if I can just figure out how to get up the bloody stairs.”

John cupped his hands on either side of Jamie’s face and shook his head before laughing and turning him around to face the way up to his apartment. “Lead on, James.”

With a lot of laughter and drunken false starts they managed to navigate both the stairs and the front door. Once inside the apartment Jamie fumbled with the buttons on John’s overcoat. “Fuck, my fingers won’t work,” he laughed when he couldn’t get a grip on one of the buttons.

John quickly rid himself of his coat and dragged Jamie’s off his shoulders, throwing it on a nearby chair. He slid his arm firmly around Jamie’s waist and growled, “Coats are gone now.”

Jamie grinned and resumed his full-length press against John. “Much better.” Reveling in the shared warmth, he moaned lightly and pushed his hand inside John’s shirt.