pzb.drawingblood-第62章
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He got up； left a generous tip on the table to make sure his cup would be kept full again next time； and gave the old man what he imagined was a polite but sardonic nod as he left the diner。 To his surprise； the old man smiled and nodded back。
Trevor thought of driving out Burnt Church Road to the graveyard before he went home； but decided against it。 The grave of his family had felt too peaceful； too final when he visited it on Sunday morning。 It contained no answers for him； only crumbling bones。 The answers were in the house； in its dampness and rot； its twenty…year…old bloodstains and shattered mirrors。
And also perhaps in its strange sylvan sensuality； its lushness of green vines twining through broken windows； in the home it was being to him and Zach； more than it had ever been his alone； in the succession of shady days and sweaty nights that seemed as if it would go on forever； though they both knew it could not； even in the galaxies of dust that swirled through late afternoon sunlight like golden notes descending on a saxophone； there in Birdland。
Trevor parked the car at the side of the house； went inside； and got a Coke from the refrigerator。 He stood in the kitchen drinking it； looking at Zach's stuff on the table。 Zach seemed to have chosen this as his room and insinuated himself here。 His Post…its were stuck to the edge of the table like some bizarre yellow fringe。 On the refrigerator he had plastered a bumper sticker that read FUCK 'EM IF THEY CAN'T TAKE A JOKE。 His laptop puter； surely an expensive machine； sat in plain view as if he trusted the house to protect it from thievery or harm。 He thought of Zach breaking into the electric pany last night； just skating right in as pretty as he pleased； as if anybody could call up and read the whole town's power bills anytime they wanted to。 What a silly kid； Trevor thought。 What an amazing genius。
But that reminded him of the kitchen light snapping on； off； on again with no hand near it。 And that reminded him of his story。 Incident in Birdland。 He finished his Coke and walked slowly down the hall； past the bedrooms； into the studio。 The light in here was clear； green； pure in a way that only late afternoons in summer can be。 He ran his hand over the scarred surface of the drawing table。 He stared at the drawings tacked to the wall。
Then； without quite knowing he was going to do it； Trevor thrust out both hands and tore two of them down and started ripping at them。 The paper crumbled between his fingers； dry； brittle； helpless。 Destroying artwork was a taboo almost as strong to him as murder。 The sensation was heady； intoxicating。
〃HOW DO YOU LIKE IT？〃 he yelled into the empty room。 〃HOW DO YOU LIKE SEEING YOURSELF TORN APART？ DO YOU EVEN CARE ANYMORE？〃
The silence was deafening。 The last crumbs of paper sifted from his hands。 Trevor suddenly felt very tired。
He went into his bedroom and lay down on the mattress。 The light in here was dim； more blue than green； the kudzu so thick it was like having the shades drawn。 The rumpled blanket and pillow were permeated with a unique blend of his scent and Zach's； a third scent that had never existed in the world before yesterday morning； a scent part musk； part herb； part salt。
He touched his penis。 The skin felt stretched； tender； nearly sore。 The things he had done with Zach were like nothing he had ever imagined。 He loved the raw physical intimacy of it； the utter sense of connection。 He thought about having Zach inside him； wondered if it would hurt and realized that he didn't care； he wanted it anyway。
Hugging the pillow to him； imagining his lover's body linked inextricably with his own； he slept。
At the Sacred Yew； Gumbo was running through the last few songs of their set。 As promised； Zach had memorized the lyrics Terry had written down for him； then learned to sing them with R。J。 singing along softly to cue him。 R。J。's voice wasn't awful； but it was a flat kid's voice that had never been meant to front a band。 Zach decided his own voice had been meant for just that purpose。 On the songs he hadn't learned； he made up his own words。
Terry gave his cymbals a final crash and brandished his sticks in the air。 〃Let's knock it off；〃 said R。J。 〃It's not gonna get any better than that。〃
Zach had shed his T…shirt at some point during the rehearsal。 His chest was streaked with sweat and his own grimy fingerprints where he had clawed at himself with one hand while he clutched at the mike stand or gesticulated wildly with the other。 He had snarled his hair around his fingers as he sang； pulled at it until it stood out in a hundred directions。
He saw Calvin looking at him and grinned。 〃What do you think？〃
Calvin's eyes were brazen。 〃About what？〃
〃My highly original vocal style； of course。〃
〃Of course。〃 The guitarist let his gaze slide from Zach's face to his chest to his midsection； then back up again just as slowly。 〃I think it's very attractive。〃
〃How old are you？〃
〃Twenty…three。〃
〃Will you buy me a beer and pour it in a cup？〃
〃Why； of course I will。〃 Calvin grinned evilly。 〃But only if you buy the next round。〃
〃Hell； I'll buy this one。〃 Zach pulled a five out of his pocket and held it out to Calvin。 〃Leave the change for Kinsey。〃
Calvin waved the money away。 〃My treat。〃
Terry came over to the edge of the stage toweling his hair dry with his bandanna； sucking some kind of throat lozenge。 The sharp odor of menthol hung around his head like an invisible cloud。 〃That was some heavy mind groove； Zach。 You're quite a crazed front man。〃
〃Thanks。 You guys are pretty crazed yourselves。〃
〃Yeah； we try。 You wanna e over for a shower and a toke？ I can drop you off afterward。〃
Calvin came back with two sloshing plastic cups。 Their fingers touched damply as he handed Zach one。 〃Where are y'all going？〃
〃To my house；〃 Terry told him hoarsely。
〃Can I e？〃
〃No。 Go home and take a nap。 I know you were up until dawn eating mushrooms last night。〃
〃That's okay。 I'm going to eat 'em again tonight。〃
Terry rolled his eyes。 〃Great。 Can you wait until after the show？〃
〃Maybe。〃 Calvin's gaze sought out Zach's； fairly sparkling with wickedness。 〃It depends on what's happening after the show。〃
For the first time； Zach felt a spark of annoyance toward Calvin。 He was cute as hell； he played a mean guitar； and he obviously entertained a healthy lust for Zach。 But he also obviously didn't give a damn about Trevor。
Well； maybe Calvin just hadn't picked up on the fact that they were together。 Zach didn't mind the attention or the free beer。 Calvin probably meant no harm； and if he did； that was too bad。
But Zach saw no reason to piss off his new bandmate if he didn't have to。 Calvin might even have extra mushrooms； Zach thought； and be willing to share or sell some。
And he was awfully cute。
Trevor woke alone in the dark bedroom。 For a moment he could not feel the mattress under him； could not even be sure he lay on a solid surface； he might have been spinning in some directionless black void。 Then gradually the dim square of the window became visible； and the larger rectangle of the closet。 He became conscious of the empty space on the other side of the mattress。 Zach hadn't e back yet。
If it was nearly full dark； the time must be well after seven。 Trevor wondered where Zach was； what he was doing right now。 Was he still at the club； enjoying the cheerful； rowdy pany of the other musicians after having spent so many intense hours with Trevor？ Was he wishing he had hooked up instead with exotic Calvin； who played the guitar and wore silver charms in his ears； who would not have needed showing how to make love？
What if he has？ What if Calvin offered him a ride home； and their eyes met in some perfect understanding that I could never fathom； and halfway here they pulled off the road and Calvin gave him a blowjob in the car？ What if it's happening right now？ His hands twined in Calvin's bleachy…fine hair； his back arching just like it did for me； his smooth sweet boner fitting as perfectly in Calvin's mouth as it did in mine。 What if he never es back？
Trevor
