Journey of A Thousand Miles (Part 5)
The next morning Justin woke up before his alarm had the chance to go off. He stumbled into the bathroom where he took his time getting himself ready. The extra long shower and the vigorous brushing of his teeth helped him to feel human again and he emerged from the bathroom ready to take on his self-appointed mission despite the images from last night’s dream still swirling around his brain.
He dressed quickly and headed straight for the kitchen, intent on brewing the strongest coffee possible.
He smiled wanly when he saw that Lance was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and holding out a coffee mug. He accepted it with a heartfelt "thank you" and gratefully took a long sip before speaking.
"You cleaned the bathroom for me," he said as he held the mug in his hands and let its warmth seep into his skin.
"Yeah well, you were in no shape to do it," Lance said.
"I guess I owe you yet another one."
Lance smiled easily. "Man, I’m going to be a doctor. A little puke is like a walk in the park for me. You owe me nothing."
Justin chuckled at the comment even as he marveled at how lucky he was to have found a friend like Lance. "Well, thank you."
"You’re welcome. So are you really ok?" Lance asked as his eyes narrowed with concern.
"I’m fine, probably just something I ate," Justin lied. "I feel a hundred times better."
Lance didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t pursue it. Instead he asked, "How did things go with Jenna yesterday?"
"Great. She was really helpful."
"Uh huh. So what did she do for you? Or am I not allowed to ask?" Lance waggled his eyebrows suggestively as he asked, eliciting another chuckle from Justin.
"Oh please. As if. She needs to grow a penis before that happens. No, she just…helped me out with some stuff that’s all."
"Ok, I get the hint. I won’t ask."
"No, it’s not that…it’s just…I don’t know…" Justin faltered, unsure of what to say so as not to hurt Lance’s feelings.
He was immensely relieved when Lance seemed to dismiss the whole thing. "I’m just giving you a hard time. Jeez, I don’t expect you to tell me everything."
Justin forced a smile and took a couple more sips of coffee before he rinsed it out and set it down in the sink. "Well, I gotta get going. Don’t want to be late."
Lance nodded. "To class right?"
"That’s right, " Justin answered as he started to walk back towards his room. Once inside, he grabbed the drawing that Jenna had made for him and folded it neatly, then tucked it into his backpack. He then walked out of his room and into the living room to find his friend cleaning up the kitchen.
"I’ll see you later," Justin called as he walked out the door.
"Yup, see you," Lance called back as he gave a quick wave.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few hours later found Justin sitting dejectedly on a bench across from a row of bars, restaurants and trendy shops.
He wasn’t entirely sure what he had been expecting when he had started out, but it certainly hadn’t been the string of disappointments that he’d run across.
On his first stop to the police station, he had shown the picture to the officer on duty and asked to look through their missing person files. The officer had been helpful, but the search had turned up nothing; indicating that either no one had reported Joshua missing or that Justin was really losing his mind. Without Joshua’s last name or any additional information, the police could do no more.
After that, Justin had wandered about for awhile, asking everyone he ran across if they knew the man in the picture. Unfortunately, that also turned out to be a waste of time. Los Angeles was huge and sprawling and there was no way for him to even make a dent in his search.
His only other option was to make copies of the sketch and post them everywhere he could, along with his number. He knew it was the next logical step to take but it seemed so daunting to him that at the moment he didn’t even want to get up. He just wanted to sit and sulk and despair.
Two minutes went by before he decided that he would amend his plan. Why sulk and despair on a bench in the heat when he could sulk and despair in one of those cool, inviting bars across the street? Grabbing his backpack, he wandered over to the first one he saw and entered. At this time of the day it was almost deserted, which is exactly what he was hoping for. An old bluesy tune that he recognized as "Still of the Night" was wafting through the air. He walked up to the bar and perched on one of the empty barstools.
After a moment, the bartender walked up to him. "What’ll you have?" he asked.
"Beer please. Miller Lite," Justin said as he began to dig into his pockets for money.
"Gonna have to see some id," the bartender said casually.
Justin shrugged and fished his driver’s license out of his backpack. He handed it to the bartender who looked at it carefully and then frowned.
"This says that you’re only twenty."
"Yeah, I am," Justin answered.
The bartender dropped the id and studied Justin. Justin returned the gaze openly and steadily. There was no fight or rebellion in him; he merely waited for the bartender to make his decision.
"That bad a day huh?" the bartender asked as he cracked a smile.
"Not the worst, but definitely not good," Justin said as he pocketed his license and smiled wearily.
The bartender turned his back to Justin. When he turned back around to face him, he held a bottle of Miller Lite in his hand. He placed it on the bar and Justin took it gratefully.
Justin drank it slowly, savoring the cold, mellow taste. After a while he found himself relaxing, the dark interior, the beer and the music all creating a cocoon that seemed to isolate him from the real world. In the cocoon he could easily forget all about strangers named Joshua and wicked dreams about blood and gore.
The next few minutes passed in silence, which to Justin was just as soothing as the earlier music had been. He was halfway through his second beer when the first few notes of "Take a Walk on the Wild Side" were heard through the bar.
"I love this song. Nobody writes ‘em like this anymore," the bartender said absently as he wiped down the bar.
Justin nodded his agreement and took a sip of beer. Without even realizing it, his foot began to tap to the easy rhythm of the song. He listened as Lou Reed spoke the words to the song; words he already knew due to a father who believed that his son should appreciate all kinds of music.
Holly came from Miami, FLA
Hitch-hiked her way across the USA
Plucked her eyebrows on the way
Shaved her legs and then he was a she
She says, Hey babe Take a walk on the wild side
She said, Hey honey Take a walk on the wild side…
He smiled as the song continued. Great song. Interesting lyrics. He wondered briefly if Lou had been thinking about New York or LA when he wrote the song.
By the time the song ended, Justin had finished and was ready to leave. He pushed the stool he was sitting on away from the bar and stood. Just then the familiar sounds of "Take a Walk on the Wild Side" came to his ears.
"I love this song. Nobody writes ‘em like this anymore," the bartender said as he wiped down the bar.
Justin froze as an eerie sense of deja vu struck him. The bartender had said the exact same words in the exact same tone when the song had played for the first time. And he was wiping down the exact same spot on the bar although it was already clean. It was as if time had rewound and he was experiencing the same moment from five minutes earlier.
Take a walk on the wild side,
I said hey Joe
Take a walk on the wild side.
Justin heard the words through his shock and found himself almost laughing at the absurdity of it all. Was this some kind of sign? Was he being told something here? Could he possibly believe that the words to this song were a message of some kind?
Well why not? He had come to believe that the dreams were a message and that Joshua was real. Maybe this wasn’t so far-fetched.
He leaned in towards the man behind the bar. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Do you believe in things like signs and fate and omens?"
The man smiled. "I believe in what I can see, and I’ve never seen anything like that."
Justin thanked the man and walked out of the bar and into the sunlight. He took a deep breath, enjoying the renewed sense of purpose he felt. He had a much more definite plan now. He would spend the rest of the day making copies of the drawing and posting them everywhere, then later he would take his walk on the wild side.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few hours later and Justin was back in his apartment, alternately listening for his cell phone and waiting for the sun to go down so that he could start looking for Joshua. He had plastered copies of Joshua’s picture all over the city and had not yet received a single phone call. He was extremely antsy and wanted nothing more than to get outside and start searching. Finally, after a few more minutes of waiting, he stood up and grabbed his cellphone, his keys and his wallet. If he drove slowly enough, he would be starting the search just as the sun was going down.
He sprinted towards the door and threw it open, intending to run out of it and jump into his car. He would have made it in record time had he not collided with Lance who was five feet away from the door.
"Ouch! Shit!" Justin cried as he stepped backwards and rubbed at his forehead.
"Fuck!" Lance shouted as he too rubbed his head.
Justin looked up with a grimace of pain. "That was bad," he said when he saw that it was his friend that he had run into.
"You’re telling me," Lance answered with an edge of sarcasm in his voice.
"What the hell are you doing here anyway?"
"Nothing. Where were you going in such a hurry?" Lance asked.
"I’m going to work," Justin answered as he tried to push past his friend. "And I’m late, so…"
"Bullshit," Lance said calmly as he put out his arm and blocked Justin’s path.
"What are you talking about?" Justin asked. as he felt a burst of irritation with his friend.
"I know you’re not going to work, just like I know that you didn’t go to school today."
Before Justin could reply, Lance pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and carefully unfolded it. He showed it to Justin who gasped and took an involuntary step back. It was one of the posters of Joshua that he had put up.
"Where did you get that?" Justin asked.
"From the side of a building," Lance said dismissively. "Justin, what the hell is going on? What are you doing?"
Justin looked around and then stepped back into the apartment, not wanting this conversation to be heard by all their neighbors. Lance followed him, shutting the door behind him.
"Well?" Lance asked.
"I’m trying to help somebody."
"Joshua?" Lance asked.
"Yes, Joshua."
"Justin, I don’t get you. You missed class, you’re not going in to work, and for what?"
Justin crossed his arms over his chest. "I told you, I’m trying to help somebody here! Josh could be in big trouble Lance, and I’m the only one that can help him."
"Will you listen to yourself? Joshua needs you? Joshua doesn’t even exist, Justin. He is a dream. He is a man that you made up in your dreams!"
Justin felt a spark of irrational anger at his friend’s words and his own words were spoken without truly thinking. "See, I knew you wouldn’t understand. I knew it. You are so fucking closed-minded sometimes Lance."
Lance moved back quickly, as if the words themselves had jumped at him and hurt him. "I’m closed-minded? Out of the two of us, I’m the only one thinking logically and now I’m close-minded? Oh that’s rich Justin."
"What is your problem anyway? Why the fuck do you care what I do?" Justin yelled.
"Because I’m your friend that’s why."
"Just stay out of it, ok? This has nothing to do with you," Justin said as his voice dropped to a more normal level. He began to move towards the door once more. He no longer wanted to be having this conversation. He just wanted to be out of this apartment.
"Justin…" Lance said, his tone softening.
"I know what I’m doing, Lance." And with those words, Justin stormed out of the apartment, leaving Lance completely alone.
Lance stared at the closed door for a moment before giving it a ferocious kick. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" That had not gone well at all.
"Fuck!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Justin entered the apartment and closed the door behind him softly. It was almost two in the morning and he knew that Lance was asleep. Taking care to move quietly, he wandered over to his room and collapsed on the bed wearily, too tired to even turn on the light.
‘What a waste of time,’ he thought bitterly as he stared up at the dark. He had been out for hours and felt like he had covered half the city, although he knew that he had barely covered an eighth of it. He had been everywhere from homeless shelters to seedy bars to hooker and druggie hangouts – and had found nothing. Nothing at all. No one knew Joshua, no one recognized him from the picture.
To make matters worse, he knew that no one had called him about the drawings he had posted. He had kept his cell phone turned on all night and had not received so much as a single ring.
Now he lay on his bed - exhausted, confused and frustrated, but most of all worried. He was so worried that he was quickly running out of time. He could almost see the clock ticking in his mind; could almost see it counting down to this entire thing’s conclusion.
"Now what?" he asked aloud, although he already knew what he would do. He would keep searching. He would search day in and day out if he had to, and he would only stop until he found Joshua.
Unless Joshua stopped calling for him first.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It shivers so beautifully in the wan light and the man cannot help but be pleased with himself. This one out of all of them so far has been the most beautiful. It has given him a lot of pleasure watching this one suffer because this one suffers so well. The man is almost sad that he will have to get rid of it soon but he knows that he cannot keep it much longer. After all, its body and mind will only take so much before they break and then playing with it won’t be any fun.
As these thoughts silently flit through the man’s mind, he kneels down next to it and strokes its head. He is being gentle, but it still whimpers and tries to move away from him. The man stops this by grabbing its hair and pulling it tightly. It stops moving and stares up at him with eyes wide with fear. In this light, they almost seem to be glowing.
This unnerves the man although he knows it is just a mere trick of the light. He puts one hand over its eyes while his other hand starts caressing its stomach. The man notes with extreme pleasure that it does not move. It shivers and whimpers and cries, but it does not move. The man can feel its hot tears against the back of his hand. The man feels the stirrings of excitement. He feels himself stiffening and he knows that this time will be quick.
This time there is no time for preparation or for anything fancy. This time the man uses only what he has within reach - his own body. He begins to hit it, taking in the grunts of pain that flow so effortlessly from its lips. A particularly hard punch to the mouth slices open its lip and blood begins to pour down its chin.
The sight of all that red drives the man over the edge and he begins to pound the tender flesh beneath him furiously. The more it moans, the harder the man hits, until his body succumbs to the building heat within it. The man comes hard, his sticky seed covering both the floor and its bloodstained skin.
The man looks down, now eager to see the blue eyes and the pain that they hold. He is disappointed to find that it has lost consciousness. He wonders when that happened and why he hadn’t noticed.
The man sighs. Yes, it’s almost time to get rid of this one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Justin was in the dream again, walking towards Joshua. He was scared to see what he would find once he reached him. He almost wanted to stop and turn around, so that he wouldn’t have to see, but he knew that he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t do that to Joshua. Joshua needed him.
So he continued to walk down the dark path until he reached him. Joshua was sitting in the chair as usual. He was covered in blood; his exposed skin a patchwork of bruises and cuts. His blue eyes stared straight ahead, unblinking, unseeing.
"NO!" Justin shouted as he threw himself at Joshua’s still figure. He hadn’t expected to be allowed to reach him, so when he felt cold skin beneath his fingers, he reacted briefly with surprise. He pushed the surprise aside and grabbed Joshua’s arms in a tight grip, then he sank down to the floor, taking Joshua with him. He wrapped his arms around the too-thin body and held him against his chest.
Tears formed in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks as he took in Joshua’s still form. He knew the man he held in his arms was dead. The pallor of Joshua’s skin, so cold to the touch, and the unfocused eyes told him so.
"No, I can’t be too late. Please, tell me I’m not too late. Please." Justin wasn’t sure exactly to whom he was talking, only that he felt the words needed to be said. Maybe if he pleaded enough, maybe things would change, maybe Joshua would be all right. Maybe he would still have a chance to save him.
He desperately pleaded some more but still nothing happened.
Joshua was still dead.
He had failed him. He hung his head and placed a kiss against Joshua’s cool forehead. "I’m sorry," he whispered sadly as he closed his eyes and began to grieve for a man he never really knew.
Time passed and he began to wonder when this dream would be over when he felt a cold hand brush against his cheek.
Startled, he opened his eyes and looked down at Joshua’s face.
Joshua’s lips were moving slowly, his voice nothing more than a whisper. "Can you hear me crying?"