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- 01/01/2017
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Predator Prey - 16. Led Home
The remaining hours in the Feigenbaum's January cruise passed in a blur. One incident stood out. It happened during his last morning watch with the Marine Technician. The labs seemed split between scientists frantically finishing experiments or data sets, and other researchers carefully cleaning up their spaces and equipment.
"Wally, those boxes get stowed in the forward compartment below. Make sure the number on the shelf matches the code on the box," Haskins called out to him.
"Sure thing." At least Haskins didn't insist on the nautical replies the others did.
He turned and spotted his pasty faced assailant in the corner of the lab a few feet away. On a ship like this, very little was distant. In front of the unfortunate researcher stood a very serious looking Javier Cabrera holding a lethal-looking dissection scalpel.
"Look what I found in the galley stores this morning," he overheard Cabrera say conversationally.
The moon face stared with eyes wide at the sharp blade as the Engineer rolled the instrument between his fingers.
"You wouldn't want to lose it, would you, doctor? Mistakes on board ship can be very…expensive, no?"
He saw his antagonist nod once.
"In fact, maybe this whole episode might convince you to stay on shore next time, don't you think? Take time to rethink your research methods, you understand?"
He could read complete defeat in the fat man's face, even as a chill ran up his spine at how close he'd come to being cut wide open. Or raped again. Or both.But he couldn't stay and watch. He had work to do.
Eight hours later, the Feigenbaum made its way back up the river channel and slipped into its berth at the Marine Research Station. With that, the research party swiftly disembarked. The crew took more leisure in packing and leaving the ship, but not much. The Feigenbaum's mini-refit had only five days to run, and everyone had to be on shore as soon as possible.
Cookie had handed him an envelope with an apologetic smile. "Listen, Wally, you’re not exactly crew, and you're not exactly research party. Cap told me to put you on to the books as a regular intern for the next cruise, but that kind of puts you into a bind for your January stipend."
He didn't understand, and his blank look told the purser an explanation was in order.
"There's five hundred dollars in that envelope. It’s an advance on your pay for this cruise and the next. By then we'll have you on the ship's payroll. But that should hold you for the next week or so."
He gratefully accepted the cash. He'd need it to survive the next week. He listened to the eerily quiet ship. His roommate, the earnest Joshua, had already departed. He looked about the tiny stateroom as he deliberately stuffed all of his gear into Marc's hand-me-down duffel. He knew nothing about the town in which the Research Center stood, except that it was small. What in hell was he going to do for five days?
He had already ruled out calling up Lee and Marc and begging for a room. They'd done enough. Calling his parents was utterly out of the question.
He crammed his last t-shirt into the bag and heaved a heavy sigh. He heard a soft knock on the door. Opening it, he found Javier Cabrera waiting on the other side.
The deep gravelly voice spoke gently. "Hey, Wally. You're coming home with me."
Cabrera wasn't asking.
"I am?"
The older man nodded. "Got your stuff ready?"
"Why am I going home with you?"
"Because you need to," was the gruff reply. The Engineer turned and headed for the ladder to the upper deck. He stopped a moment and looked back. "You coming?"
What was there to lose? He had no place else to go, and Javier Cabrera seemed like a good guy.
"Yeah, I'm coming." He shouldered his duffel, grabbed his other bag, and followed.
The gangway once again connected the Feigenbaum with the shore. From its deck end, he could see knots of people in the parking lot, chatting, greeting one another, packing up, getting ready to go. Tall, stately royal palms lined the end of the parking lot, stirring in the gentle breeze. For a winter's day, it was surprisingly warm.
A twinge of sadness hit him. Nobody was there for him. There never would be. Marc had been right about that: he didn't deserve it. He wondered for the umpteenth time what Lee and Marc were doing now. He was fortunate to be going with Javier Cabrera, who appeared to have taken pity on him, possibly at the Captain's insistence. He'd have to ask why – later. He trailed down the gangway after the Engineer.
At the bottom of the gangway, he stepped onto land again for the first time in several weeks. The air smelled heavy with the scent of earth and vegetation. He stared about himself, a little vacantly. Cabrera had walked off to the left, toward a green sedan parked at the far end of the lot where there would be shade most of the day.
"Hey, Wally, this way," he was being summoned.
"Okay." He turned away and walked behind the Engineer to his car. He tried to put the anxiety he felt in the pit of his stomach aside.
"Just dump your stuff in the back seat," he was told.
A few moments later, the pair of them rolled out past the gates and headed south into the small town where the Research Station was located. The car smelled stale and a little musty. Javier put his window down.
They passed down a main street: a couple of banks, a gas station, three or four bars. A fairly quiet, ordinary little town, really. They drove further on, into a residential area.
The left turn signal ticked noisily; Cabrera spun the wheel and made the turn.
"Thanks for taking me home with you," he said awkwardly into the quiet car.
"You needed a friend," the darker man said simply.
"How'd you know?"
Cabrera kept his eyes firmly fixed ahead of him. "I've seen the video."
The turmoil in his gut got ten times worse. "How?" he croaked out.
"Someone who knows I'm gay showed it to me before the cruise. Thought it was cool or something."
Another turn, down a smaller street. Low ranch houses lined both sides.
So the Engineer was a gay man. "You knew all along?"
"Sure. You're hard to forget. Don't worry, I'm not gonna bust you."
But that was hardly reassuring. He was being taken to the man's home. What would happen there? What was expected of him now? He wasn't sure he liked the ideas that were occurring to him. He felt sick.
"Maybe you don't want me to…"
"Wally, it's cool. Our house is a safe place. My husband knows I bring home students to stay over once in a while, and he'll be okay with your being there."
Husband? There was a husband? He looked again at Cabrera's left hand. Sure enough, there was a simple gold band on his ring finger he hadn't noticed before. But the man wasn't finished talking.
"Just a few house rules, Wally. You never hit on my husband or on my stepson. Never. You clean up after yourself. And if you go out, tell us where you’re going and when you'll be back."
The surprises just kept coming. "You have a son?"
"Stepson. My husband's boy. His ex didn't want anything to do with him when they split. Michael is a sweet, smart kid. Nobody hurts Michael." The last was spoken with a quiet ferocity that left no doubt about what would happen to the first person who injured the boy in any way.
"Okay. I got that."
The car turned again, this time to the right. It slowed in front of a modest single story house. White siding, turquoise shutters. Lush tropical shrubs surrounded the yard. They pulled into the driveway behind an older SUV.
"We're here. Home sweet home, Wally," Cabrera announced.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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