Date: Thu, 18 Oct 2012 06:02:13 -0700 (PDT)
From: Richard Garcia <invertedbeast@yahoo.com>
Subject: Darkness Evolves chapter 3

DARKNESS EVOLVES

Chapter Three


We fucked again when Daniel woke up.  I love feeling the weight and
strength of his body on top of me.  When I was little, before Dad died, I
used to pester Daniel sometimes, until he'd grab me and pin me down on the
ground beneath him.  At the time it filled me with a kind of heart-pounding
rush that, even as a kid, I knew I shouldn't tell anyone about.  Mom saw
through my secret, of course, but she never said anything.

After we'd cleaned up we went to a café that serves breakfast all day,
and I watched Daniel devour a Denver omelet, sausage links, hash browns and
a plate of pancakes.  The change burns a lot of calories.  When we got home
I told him about the call from Steve and the emails from his mother.

"You read my emails?" he sounded a bit offended.

"I'm sorry, Daniel.  You were still asleep and I didn't know what else to
do."

He grunted.  "That's okay.  Let me check it out."  He went into his office
and closed the door.

Twenty minutes later he came out looking worried and trying not to show it.

"What is it, Daniel?" I asked.

"Don't know, bro.  My mom's in a real tizzy about something.  She left a
bunch of messages on my phone too, but she never said what it's about."

"Did you talk to Steve?"

"I left a message.  I think he works at the museum today."

"Oh.  Are you going to call her back?"

"Yeah, sometime."  He frowned.  "I don't think I'm up to dealing with the
drama right now."  Daniel could guess what his mother was upset about.  He
just couldn't figure out how she'd learned about it.

My brother shook his head, banishing the anxiety from his mind.  "I've got
a shitload of emails to go through," he said.  "I'm going to do some work
in my office for a while."

"Okay.  Can I hang out there with you?"

"Sure."

I got my clarinet and sat in the spare chair in his office, working on a
couple of pieces while my brother went through his email.  It was a routine
we'd done for years.

After he'd finished with the email, Daniel got up and stretched.  He picked
up his phone and glanced at me.  I stopped playing.

"I'm calling Amber," he said.

"Okay.  I'm going to get some water.  Do you want something to drink?"

"A beer would be good."

I went and got the drinks.

Daniel was still on the phone when I got back.  "Hey, bro," he said,
cupping the phone in his hand, "how `bout hooking up with Amber tomorrow
and then all going from there to Walter's?"

 "Sure."  I handed the beer to him.

"You hear that?" Daniel said into the phone.  "He's up for it."

He listened to Amber's response.  "She wants to know where you want to
meet."

I shrugged.  "How `bout the penthouse?"

"The penthouse, he says.  Okay, ten it is.  See you tomorrow."

Daniel called Walter to verify he'd be home, then got back onto his
computer.  I continued practicing.

"What the fuck!"

I stopped.  Daniel was glaring at his computer screen like it was a sparing
opponent.

"What is it, Daniel?"

"I can't access my accounts at the firm.  It says they've been frozen."

He grabbed his phone again and hit a number on his contact list.

"Hey, Stan-the-Man," he said a moment later, "something weird is going on
with my accounts.  I'm locked out."

Stan is the general manager of the investment firm co-founded by Daniel's
grandfather.  He's about ten years older than Daniel and they're pretty
good friends.

As Daniel listened his eyes widened and his face flushed.

"They WHAT?" he demanded.

"But you told them – "

Stan talked a while longer.  Daniel's eyes went from being wide open to
narrow slits.  "You know this is total bullshit, Stan.  You know that,
don't you?  I always play by the rules.  You know that."

Stan talked more.

"Yeah, I know.  I just want to be sure you understand that this is a crock
of shit.  My mother's behind it, isn't she?"

"Oh, for Christ's sake -- of course she is!  Why would anyone file a
complaint?  Think about it.  I don't have any clients.  I'm playing with my
own money here.  Who would even know what I do other than your people at
the firm?  She got to one of them.  I warned you about this, Stan.  Someone
over there is kissing her ass and not yours.  I told you."

"Yeah.  I know.  You talk with your people, okay?  All right.  Let me know
what you find out.  Thanks."  Daniel hung up, still fuming.

"Did she close your accounts?" I asked.

"No," he shook his head.  "She sits on the board, but she doesn't have any
direct administrative control."  He ran his hand through his hair.  "Stan
said the S.E.C. received a complaint about irregularities and ordered a
temporary freeze while they investigated.  It's got to be some bullshit she
drummed up."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing.  Stan will clear it up.  If she thinks this will make me call
her, she's got it backwards.  So," he flicked off the computer and spun
around to face me, "no work to be done today and I don't feel like painting
right now.  Anything you'd like to do?"

I shrugged.

"You're no fucking help.  Hey -- how about going clothes shopping?  I
told you I'd take you to H&M.  Let's do that!"  That's how Daniel is
sometimes.  His moods can shift pretty quickly.

We got into Daniel's Porsche and he drove us to a downtown parking garage
across the street from the store.

Clothes shopping wasn't as boring as it's been in the past.  It used to be
that Daniel would take me someplace and let me buy I wanted, which was
usually whatever was on sale and felt comfortable to wear.  This time he
was a lot more involved, picking out things that he thought I would look
good in.  They fit tighter than I was used to.  I guess that's what
form-fitting means.  Some of the things were uncomfortable or didn't look
right and he set them aside.  Others were okay.

It was fun watching how much he got into it.  Daniel has a good eye for
fashion and he wasn't just buying clothes for his little brother any more.
He was dressing his lover.

"Yeah," he nodded critically as I stood before him in the final outfit.  He
grinned.  "I'm glad we did this.  It looks light-years better than that
baggy crap you've been wearing."

He ran his hand down the front of the shirt, pressing his palm against my
torso.  His finger hooked the bottom button and he pulled it toward him.

I took a step forward.  "If you rip the buttons, Daniel, I won't be able to
wear it."

"Oh yeah?"  He smiled lazily.  "I can order `em online by the gross."

He tugged again and I took another step.  "Maybe," he said softly, "I'll
rip one off you every night."  He wasn't kidding.  I shivered.

We took the clothes up to the cashier and Daniel paid.  Everything fit into
two bags, which he insisted on carrying himself.

The bad feeling hit me as we were walking out of the store.  It was similar
to what I'd felt before I read his mother's email, but worse.  Something
was coming, something aimed at us.  I looked around.  Traffic was picking
up; it was getting close to rush hour.

We stopped at the corner to wait for the light to change and I closed my
eyes, trying to ken the shape of the oncoming danger.

Daniel nudged me.  "Light's changed."

I opened my eyes as he started forward, then paused to glance back at me
over his right shoulder.  Behind him the crossing sign blinked WALK.  The
danger pulled my eyes to the left.  The traffic light on the street he was
crossing hadn't changed: it was still a steady green.  And a car was
barreling down on him.

"Daniel!" I shouted.

He whirled and saw it a split second before it hit.  The horrified face of
a middle-aged woman holding a cell phone to her ear stared back through the
windshield.

My brother jumped, straight up.  The leap took him over the hood, onto the
windshield, and up again in a spinning somersault over the top of the car.
The bags flew out of his hands into an arc high overhead.

Daniel came back down on the street behind the car, landing in a crouch and
straightening tall, arms outstretched like an Olympic gymnast dismounting
the bar.  As the car skidded to a stop he snatched the bags out of the air
before they hit the ground and stepped back onto the curb.

The traffic lights at the intersection began all blinking red.

The car door flew open.  "Oh my God oh my God oh my God," the woman babbled
as she scrambled out.  "I didn't see you!  The light was green!  I swear
the light was green!"

A teenage couple holding hands were staring at Daniel, their eyes wide.

"Are you all right?" asked the girl.  "Should I call 911?"

"Christ –" the boy said breathlessly, "that was like right out of Kung
Fu Hustle!"  He turned to the girl.  "Wasn't that so cool?"

"Are you shitting me?"  A tall black man in a business suit came forward.
He looked furious.  "Where the fuck is the camera?  Tell me you're a
stuntman or something because I cannot fucking believe this!"

"Calm down, people," Daniel said loudly.  "I'm okay.  No one's been hurt,
so let's all chill."

"The light was green!" the woman insisted tearfully.

"Fine," said Daniel, "I believe you, and I'm really okay.  So don't worry
about it.  Everybody's got stuff to do; let's all just keep doing what we
were doing."

I walked over to the woman's car.  Near the top of the windshield, planted
on either side of the spot where the rear-view mirror attaches, were the
dusty imprints of my brother's shoes.  I reached across and rubbed them
off.  Then I walked back to the small crowd.

"We should go," I said to Daniel.  The danger was fading, but it wasn't
completely gone.

"Yeah," he said, glancing around, "all right."  We headed across the
street.

"Were the hell are you going?" demanded the man.

"I'm so sorry!" cried out the woman.

"You're awesome!" shouted the boy.

We ignored them all and kept walking to his car.  Neither of us said
anything on the drive home.

When we got back to the house Daniel's mother was standing on the porch
next to our front door.

"Oh, fuck," muttered Daniel as he pulled into the driveway.

He parked the car and we got out.  I followed him from the driveway up to
the porch.

Daniel's mother waited in front of the door, her arms akimbo.  She was
wearing a floral-print blouse over a black leotard and designer jeans.  Her
long blond hair was pulled back in a barrette, making her face look angular
and severe.  Her expression didn't help with that; her whole body radiated
maternal outrage.

"Hello, Mother," Daniel said warily.

The flick of her eyes back and forth between us reminded me of a cat's
lashing tail.

"I've tried to reach you for days.  Why haven't you returned my calls?"

"Sorry, Mother, I went camping.  Just got back."

"Did he go with you?"

"His name's Joey, remember?  No, he didn't."

"What is going on between you?"

"What is going on with my accounts?"

"What?"  Confusion stilled the lashing tail.  "What are you talking about?"

"The S.E.C. is investigating reported trading irregularities in my
accounts.  Why would that be, Mother?"

"I have no idea."  Her eyes narrowed on Daniel.  "You're saying this to
distract me, aren't you?"  The cat was poised to pounce.  "What is going on
between you?  What has he done to you?"

"What do you think is going on?"

"I think he has done something to you.  I know he has.  He acts so naive
and innocent, but he's really as much of a monster as she was.  No one else
saw it -- but I did.  She was a seductress, a witch, and she beguiled my
Jonathan.  Now her ... her spawn has done the same to you.  Can't you see
it, Darling?  You aren't yourself.  He's done something to you."

"I don't know what you mean."

Daniel's mother laughed scornfully.  "You are such a terrible liar.  You
always have been.  He's seduced you, hasn't he?  He's ... perverted you.
Don't you see it, Darling?  That's why you've never stayed with anyone.
All those beautiful women: Robyn, Stephanie, Jackie and all the others.
They loved you so much.  But he was always waiting for you at home.  And
after that injury earlier this summer he wormed his way even further in,
didn't he?  That's when it started, isn't it?  Oh, God -- why didn't I
see it?  I should have done something then!  He's got you in his clutches
now, doesn't he?  You're screwing him, aren't you?  Aren't you?"

She stared at him, her eyes wild.  Daniel looked back, his gaze defiant.
But his cheeks were blazing and he had no words to counter her.

""Oh my God!" she shrieked.  "It really is true!  Oh my Darling!"  She
covered her mouth, the perfect image of a loving mother overcome by horror.
"Look what he's done to you!  Look what he's turned you into!"

Daniel was standing motionless, turned to stone by her Medusa's gaze.  I
couldn't let this continue.  I had to do something to help him.

"I don't understand, Ms. Rolston," I said.  "Are you upset that it's gay,
or that it's incest?"

"Shut up you little faggot!" she rounded on me, hissing.  "You monster!
Don't you dare talk to me!  You're the spawn of the Devil himself!"

"That's your ex-husband," I pointed out.  "And he was Daniel's father,
too."

"You know what I mean!  Your own brother!  How could you?"

I shrugged.  "I don't understand why you think that's such a big deal.  How
many times did he do it to you, when you were a girl?"

"What?"  She paused, her eyes narrowing.  "What are you talking about?"

"Your grandfather.  The one who had all the money.  How many times did he
come to you, when you slept over at his house?"

Now it was Medusa herself who was turned to stone.  Slowly her mouth
cracked open; after a few shallow breaths the words emerged.  "I don't know
what you're talking about.  He never did such a thing!"

"Yes, he did.  You would talk about it when you were a kid.  But you said
he was a monster that lived in the tree outside the bedroom window.  The
monster hid during the day and climbed through the window into the room at
night.  You tried all sorts of things to block the window.  The monster
would punish you for that, sometimes.  Sometimes he just laughed.

"You know," I added, "that didn't work because he never came through the
window.  He came through the door."

"Stop it!"  Her arms rose before her in an X, like I really was the devil
and she was trying to repel me.  "You're confusing me!  That never
happened!"

"It did.  You tried to tell your parents about it.  You even made a drawing
of the tree-monster.  Remember?  They threw it away, but not because they
didn't believe you.  It's because they did.

"He did the same thing to your aunt Clare.  That's why she never married.
And there was another aunt who killed herself when you were a baby.  Don't
you remember?"

I shrugged.  "They knew.  But your parents couldn't have had all the things
they did without his help.  So they let him have you, for the money."

The arms dropped to her side.  Her face had drained to a corpse-white.  Her
eyes looked glassy and unfocused.  "I don't feel good," she said.

"Joey – " finally Daniel unfroze, "what are you doing?"

"She says I seduced you.  That's not true.  I haven't done anything to you.
She wanted to know the truth and now she does.  About everything."

"I don't feel good," Daniel's mother repeated in a little-girl voice.

"It's okay, Mother," he said.  He reached out to place a gentle hand on her
shoulder.

She flinched and looked at him wildly before her face crumpled.  "I feel
bad," she said.  Tears spilled down her cheeks.

"Mother," Daniel pulled her into a hug, "it's okay.  Shhhh.  It's okay."
Slowly he rocked her back and forth.

"Bad things happen to everyone," I said.  "But there's nothing that's bad
going on between Daniel and me, Ms. Rolston.  Really, there isn't.  You
should go home and rest.  You'll feel better then."

She pulled herself out of Daniel's arms and turned her head away from both
of us.  Her back straightened.  She pivoted and with small, precise steps
descended the stairs toward her car.

"Mother – " Daniel took a step toward her.  I put my hand on his arm and
he stopped.

At the curb she paused and turned back.  Her mascara was streaked by tears,
but her chin was high.  She saw my hand on Daniel's arm and her lips
tightened.

"Are you okay to drive?" called Daniel.

"I'm fine.  I'm always fine.  Everything's always just fine."  She turned
back to the car and fumbled through her purse for her keys.

I felt Daniel's arm trembling beneath my hand.

Slowly, reluctantly, she turned back.  "Call me ... please?"

"I will," Daniel said.  "I promise."

She nodded.  Then she got into her car and drove away.

Daniel watched the car vanish down the street, then turned and went into
the house.  I followed him.  He went to the bar to pour a scotch.  In one
gulp he knocked it back.

"What the hell was that about?" he demanded, his back still to me.

"What do you mean, Daniel?"

"You know what I mean!  What did you just do?"

"I told the truth."

"Really?  It's all true?"

"Yes."

"Jesus."  He poured another drink.

 "I'm sorry, Daniel, but she was hurting you.  I had to do something."

"Yeah, well, you did."  His voice was bitter.  "You sure as hell did,
little brother."  He threw back the second drink.

"Daniel -- this is hard for me, too."  I started to tremble.  "That car
almost killed you."

He pivoted to look at me.  His face softened.  "Yeah."  He sighed.  "Come
here."

I went to him and pressed my face into his chest.  His strong arms folded
around my shaking body.  Just as he had done to his mother, Daniel rocked
me.

"It's okay, Joey" he whispered.  "We're okay.  Don't be scared.  We'll get
through this."

My brother hugged me close, holding me in his arms and rubbing my back as I
slowly calmed.  Someone had orchestrated all of this.  Someone -- or
something -- had just tried to kill him.  Daniel thought I was trembling
in fear.  It's true that I was afraid, but that wasn't what was making me
shake.

It was the rage.


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