Three Steps Behind You (24 page)

4 a.m.

The story is the truth, the truth is the story, and it is that word I must spread
.

When I applied the chloroform I began to cry
.

Adam went from Adam to a limp shell. All his Adamness exited him and only his exoskeleton remained. It made him almost dead. My pulse slackened in sympathy
.

So I gave him the kiss of life, to sustain both of us. He did not respond, but I felt his body’s warmth. He was only hibernating. His winter was my spring. Limpness became malleability. I embraced it
.

I thought about carrying him up to the bed, but being an (un)dead weight he would have been to heavy. Besides, that is his and Helen’s lair. They need to repair there, to schedule their passion. For us men, together, there is no need for a special room, a designated entry zone, a soft eiderdown. So I position him over the arm of a sofa and unzip my fly
.

But that felt all wrong. I was anonymous to him, but not to me. This was not intended to be about barbarism. This was about closeness
.

So I turned him over again and undressed him, head to toes. Or rather, neck to toes. Only I was wearing a hat. Each of his buttons I prised from its fastening, until I could smooth my gloved hand over that Adam torso, rub my balaclava-covered cheeks to his skin. Hairier than when we were boys. Even more Adam for me to enjoy. I ran my tongue down to his belly button. I stuck in my tongue and licked him out. Adam flakes went into my mouth and I swallowed them whole. Then I remembered about saliva and rubbed his torso down with my glove, to hide the traces, should he report my ‘crime’. But this is not a crime story, or a crime fact. It is an act of love. Of cherishing
.

Next came the most cherished. Taking hold of his belt buckle, I fed the end of the belt through the clasp, unhooking the prong from its narrow hole. The belt fell away. I undid the trouser buttons, undid the zip, and pulled down
.

I think I was expecting to see an erection. Instead, I got Danger Mouse boxer shorts. No matter. I would make up for what he lacked
.

I pulled down Danger Mouse and saw the glory of Adam. For even flaccid, he was glorious. I’d seen him before, of course, in changing rooms, in the common room, in the shower. But you’re not supposed to stare. I bowed my head to kiss him
.

And he stirred. Not his penis. That did nothing at the touch of my lips. But the rest of him. He was waking up
.

Was it because he loved me? Was his subconscious forcing him to wake, to enjoy our moment? I couldn’t take the risk. I couldn’t be rejected by him, when I’d come that far. I reached round for the chloroform. My hand came across the bat instead. His eyelids flickered. I raised the bat and I hit him on the temple. His eyelids stopped flickering
.

I sped up after that. There wasn’t time to apologise. I just had to get on with it. I pulled off his socks (also Danger Mouse) and turned him over. His buttocks (smooth, biteable, like apples) were raised on the arm of the sofa, waiting to receive me. My erection had released itself from my trousers. So I slid on the condom, applied the petrol station lube and was ready to go
.

[For the film version, I will tell the director that I slid into Adam easily, that I knew exactly how to angle myself, and was in rhythmic, sphinctral ecstasy immediately. For now, here is the reality.]

I know where my anus is. I shit out of my anus everyday (or, to be honest, every two to three days). But on Adam, finding the exact opening, getting myself in there, was a challenge. It’s not that he was resistant. He was pretty chilled out about it, very relaxed. I just wish I’d brought a diagram. I finally got in (into ADAM!) – and yes, I know I should have been celebrating, but then there was new butt barrier and I couldn’t get any further. I could have wished that he would respond to my rhythm, repositioned himself a bit. But at least him being unconscious spared any embarrassment
.

I tried a different angle, tried on tiptoes, and then finally I just pushed
.

And I was in. I was fully part of Adam. Upward stroke – ADAM! Downward stroke – soon return to Adam. ADAM! Soon return. ADAM! Soon return. AD! Soon. AD! Soon. AD! AD! AAAAAADDDAAAAAM!

I pressed down on him and held him to me. But that wasn’t enough. After the closeness of euphoria, I wanted skin on skin. I pulled up my top and lay my nakedness on his nude back. I lifted my balaclava and nuzzled my cheek against his head, each precious follicle of his hair, following each golden strand as it tapered down his neck. I’ve never been that close to someone before – so close that I can count the hairs on the back of their neck. There are 172 on Adam
.

I chatted to him a bit, quietly, so as not to wake him. I told him we would always be entwined like this, now. That even though his mind didn’t know our closeness, his body did. It would know I had penetrated his inner core, and it would remember
.

When I withdrew from him, he bled. The pain of separation
.

6 a.m.

Because it is painful. The being apart from someone. Not from someone. From him. When I’ve just been a part of him. Two jigsaw pieces separated, never to be together again, achieve that mutually perfecting fit
.

I stroked him until I had to leave. I could not dress him again. It would be too much, to withdraw from myself his naked realness, to clad him again in his external armour
.

So I would have to leave him, naked, on the sofa, for Helen to find him
.

But that was to donate too much intimacy to her. She would see the scene that I had shared only with him. That moment would be tainted, broken – penetrated. Plus she would be sure to call the police if she found him like that. So I pulled the throw off the sofa, rolled him off the arm and into the body of the sofa. I put him in recovery position and then I covered him
.

Goodbye, Adam, my Adam. I have a secret with you, your body has a secret with mine, but your mind need never know it
.

8 February 2007

The worst thing about Feltham was leaving it
.

It’s the same now
.

10 February 2007

His parents wouldn’t let us speak. For ten months we’d been in the same unit, sharing a shower block, talking everyday(ish – I talked to him, even if he didn’t talk back). It was bliss. That’s when I first began to really understand how much we meant to each other. Then we were cast out into the world again and made to feel shame
.

And then silence
.

No communication
.

Nothing
.

Until I put that right
.

11 February 2007

Why hasn’t he called? I am his best friend and he hasn’t phoned me to say he’s been raped
.

Does he even know?

OH MY GOODNESS. Does he even know what’s happened to him?

Later

I thought we would at least be able to discuss his reaction to it. That I could share the experience with him again, through him telling me about it
.

But what if he thought he was just stripped and put onto the sofa, and unrelatedly had – I don’t know – haemorrhoids?

I should have left him prone. That way, at least, someone would have known
.

I have never felt so far away from him. If only my aunt would get better, I could go and see him
.

12 February 2007

I nearly called him today
.

Instead, I ate mouldy toast and thought
.

13 February 2007

I know what this is. It’s the bit after the reward when the hero has to fight to keep it. I thought I’d returned with the elixir, but I don’t have it yet
.

The elixir is in me. I have to win back the euphoria that I had, just after
.

This afternoon, I tried various things. I masturbated, with some success. Then I looked at the picture of me and Adam from when we were little boys
.

Then I phoned Adam and withheld my number
.

After a few hellos, he put the phone down
.

Am I glad I did it, the penetration?

Yes, yes I am glad. My skin is glad – it pimples with gladness, its pores all opening like a flower when it remembers the contact. My mind, though, mourns for the shoulder blades that my skin caressed. It mourns for the closeness, now lost, never achievable again
.

Unless …

Could I?

14 February 2007, Valentine’s Day

I drew myself a card. It has a big red heart in the centre, with an arrow piercing it
.

It’s not to Adam, it’s from him
.

‘I need you, Dan’ it said inside
.

Then I realised it was mocking me, so I burnt it
.

I’m beginning to think, though, that I could. Get that close again. Now I’ve done it once, where’s the harm?

15 February 2007

I found the harm. Adam phoned
.

At first, it wasn’t clear why he was calling. I’m sure he might have made it clear. But all I could hear was the fact of his voice, even when he wasn’t speaking. The interaction, him saying my name, was divinely deafening. It drowned out his actual words
.

Then I focused and found he was asking about my aunt. He has just been raped and he asks about my aunt. Such a good friend
.

I told him she was stabilising again and it would soon be time to come home
.

‘Something’s happened,’ he said
.

‘Oh, what? Nothing bad, I hope,’ I replied
.

‘There was a break-in,’ he said
.

‘To the house?’ I asked
.

There was a long pause. I had to say his name again to make him respond. Then he said: ‘No, to me.’

And he began to cry
.

I heard Helen’s voice in the background. I heard him swear
.

Then he hung up
.

I tried calling again, but the line said it was engaged. I couldn’t get through all day. It was probably Helen stopping him. She probably thought she was doing him a good turn. But his instinct to call me was right – I am the one he needs to be close to. His body is calling out for me
.

He doesn’t understand, he doesn’t realise. But he KNOWS
.

And I wish I could comfort him. Because it would be a comfort, to know it was me, not some madman, who did it. He thinks it was a ‘rape’ rape, not a love rape. There was no violation, no violence. Not really. The bat was not sexual violence, it was just a necessity
.

And now I have hope again. There will be more conversations. We can keep that part of us alive. If Helen doesn’t stop us. Perhaps I can stop her stopping us
.

Because if I can’t have Adam that way because it hurts him, how else do I get that close to him again?

16 February 2007

Adam was more matter of fact when he phoned today. He had points he wanted to make:

1. Someone had got into their home and he thought he’d been raped
   .
   
2. He didn’t want to talk about it
   .
   
3. He was going out tonight with some friends, while Helen was at her class
   .
   
4. Him and Helen would love to have me over to dinner when I was back
   .
   
5. He’d live his life how he bloody well wanted to live it
   .
   

By the end of the call he was shouting
.

Helen will want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk to her about it. I can imagine, going over to dinner, not talking about things. She will give Adam ‘secret’ looks of love and understanding. She will caress his hand. She will stroke her belly. She will do everything to mark her territory, to show how much she is loved, how life can go on happily. Her eyes will twinkle as much as her jewellery but after dinner she will refuse to put out because she doesn’t want to hurt the baby. Instead, she will spend time online adding silver-plated items to the dream Christening gift-list that only she can afford to buy
.

I know, because Adam once told me. Then he told me to forget it. But I remember everything Adam says. It’s his testament to the world, and my truth
.

So Helen will have to be endured, I suppose. For now. Until I can find some better use for her. It’s too early for that to make it into the story, I haven’t worked it out yet. But I can see how there might be a plan
.

17 February 2007

Tell her about Feltham? No. That would betray Adam’s secrets
.

Tell her Adam is in love with someone else? No. He would deny it
.

Haunt her every move? Restraining order
.

Burn down my house, move in with them? Risky
.

Sleep with her?

Kill her?

Sleep with her. Be in her, where Adam has been. Then kill her, so he won’t be there again
.

But am I a killer?

18 February 2007

I could be. Couldn’t I? For Adam. I could be anything for Adam. I wasn’t a rapist, until two weeks ago. Just a sexual assaulter. I’ve progressed. What Adam started, I’ve continued, for him – from his teachings, shall we reap the reward
.

The only problem is – what if he loves her? Or even thinks he loves her? And what of the child? He might want the child. I should not rob the world of more Adams. His gene is sure to be stronger than Helen’s – he, the superman, will triumph
.

If she doesn’t hold him back
.

I should help. Release him
.

19 February 2007