Phoenix Lights - 3. CLIMATIC

Jeffrey woke up in a large, cavernous room. The floor was metal, with hexagonal holes in it; he couldn’t tell how deep the chamber below him was. The room seemed cone-shaped, with strange spiny beams running from the sides to the top most point in the center, and ribs between each of the beams. At the top of the room were lights, bright and blinding, but Jeffrey felt as if the light weren’t reaching him, because he was partially in shadow.

He was restrained to a cold metal table which sat upright at a 45 degree angle to the floor, his arms splayed open like the miniature Jesus on Sean’s crucifix. His naked body was cold all over, and his mind was in a haze.

Not more than two arm-lengths away, Sean was also strapped to a table, but he was conked out. No matter what Jeffrey tried—talking, yelling, thinking, screaming—he could not get a response out of Sean; he was breathing shallow.

There was a haze in the room, almost a fog, but Jeffrey was unsure if it was getting thicker or not. All he could smell was maple, and the scent was overwhelming. His eyes burned and watered, making it more difficult to see his surroundings. Out of his peripheral vision were specters: people with impossibly long necks and big heads and long spindly arms. Their eyes looked human, in shape, size and spacing, but were deeply inset and black.

He tried to turn toward them, but could barely move his head.

One shifted around a little, where he could see it better. They had bulbous, bald heads, and wrinkly tan colored skin with visible veins. No nose, or nose slits, or mouths, only a strong jaw and skin pulled taught across facial bone.

Jeffrey screamed bloody murder as one seemed to slide toward him out of the shadows on the far side of the room. He pulled against his restraints as others also came near, pissing himself in fear.

It put a hand over his mouth and pushed his head back against the table. It’s skin smelled like wet cardboard, gun powder, cinnamon and warm cheddar.

Behind him, something gave off a loud cracking noise, and the table fell back. Instead of landing hard against the floor, the table rolled end over end, and stopped after several flips, hard and abruptly, with Jeffrey in a downward position parallel with the ground. The floor seemed as if it were now fifteen, maybe twenty feet below him.

After what seemed like forever, the table very slowly started to roll backward, and came to stop when his face was mere inches away from one of them, a high pitched screeching filling the air. Cold fluid droplets fell from above, burning his skin. Suddenly, white hot pain shot through his body. Unbearable, horrible pain. He screamed out into the air, as a specter moved toward is face, closer and closer… the sounds… the flashes… the light… the smells…

Crack!

There was Sean, inches away from his lips. They were floating calmly, comfortably in white light, holding hands and kissing.

Jeffrey opened his eyes when he felt the sensation of a kiss, out of his head and somewhere far better than that place. Then, he felt Sean’s dream filling him.

*****

Saturday, March 15, 1997

The smell of hot pancakes permeated the kitchen. The boys walked in and sat at the table as Jeffrey’s dad, Tom, worked batter over the electric griddle. “I was beginning to wonder if you two were going to get up any time before noon,” he said to Jeffrey, his bulging right arm flexing as he lifted the spatula. “You didn’t stay up and watch scary movies all night, did you?”

Your dad is huge, Sean thought.

He’s a cop, Jeffrey thought flatly. “No, sir. We played some video games until eleven then went to bed.”

“Your new friend is quieter than your other buddies,” Tom said, flipping a pancake. “I was sure you two would be making noise all night.”

Jeffrey gave Sean a troubled look.

“I never caught your name.”

Sean leaned back in his chair. “I’m Sean, uh, sir.”

“You two go to school together or something? Never seen you running around with the boys.”

“No. I go to Saint Anne’s. My mother and I live across the street.”

“Ah. A catholic guy, eh?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Just you and your mom? I thought you had an older brother or something.”

Fuck, Jeffrey thought. “Uh, Dad, I don’t…”

“My brother passed away a year ago.” Sean dropped his head and stared at his lap.

Tom stopped and slowly turned around. “Oh, Buddy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to open old wounds.”

Sean signed the holy cross, more out of habit than anything else, and lifted his chin just the smallest bit. “He had a brain hemorrhage playing football.”

“God, that’s horrible,” he said, pressing his lips thin. “If you ever need someone to talk to, you know,” he nodded forward, “about guy things or anything else, don’t hesitate to ask.” He chuckled nervously. “Maybe I should find my crowbar. I think I have a foot stuck in my mouth.”

God damn it, Dad.

“It’s okay. Thanks,” Sean said quietly.

“Moving onto happier things, breakfast is done.” Tom slid a plate in front of each of them, with three slices of bacon, and stack of pancakes drowning in maple syrup.

As soon as the smell hit his nostrils, Jeffrey jerked back and covered his mouth. He jumped to his feet and lunged toward the trash can, making it just in time to barf inside.

“Oh, come on,” Tom said, sarcastically. “My cooking isn’t that bad.”

Jeffrey lowered his head over the can and went in for round two.

“Getting your mother,” he mumbled, backing out of the kitchen.

Jeffrey glanced up. Tough as shit, but can’t even handle someone throwing up.

I almost threw up watching you. I hate that feeling, are you okay? Are you done? If I feel you go again I’m going to lose it.

I think I’m over it now. I didn’t think the smell would bother me that much. Jeffrey spat in the garbage can. I’m fine.

*****

Jeffrey’s mom had sent Sean home shortly after breakfast.

After a quick trip to the InstaCare, and half an hour of convincing his mother that he wasn’t infected with Ebola, she stopped doting over him long enough that he was able to escape his quarantine on the couch, under all those hot blankets, and return to his own side of the house. After a quick shower, he returned to his bedroom in a comfortable pair of shorts and the tee shirt his sister bought for him at the Smashing Pumpkins concert several months earlier. The world is a vampire.

He sat on his bed, quickly bringing his feet off the floor, and leaned against the pillows on his headboard. He never liked to let his feet dangle, especially when he couldn’t see what was beneath him.

Are we going to talk about it? Sean asked from his bedroom.

I don’t want to, Jeffrey replied. They didn’t need to talk about it. Jeffrey figured that Sean already knew what Jeffrey thought about the whole thing already.

I’m sorry we didn’t have the same experience.

Jeffrey scowled. We never talked about how we’re going to deal with this.

I still don’t know.

Jeffrey slumped back. I really don’t want another panic attack like that again. I’m not looking forward to Monday.

Too bad one of us can’t transfer schools or something.

Dude, I’m not Catholic. You’d have to go to my school. Talk to your mom, I’m sure she’d be cool with it.

I wish it were that easy.

*****

School for Jeffrey had gone just as bad as he’d expected it would. Not only with the low-key anxiety stuff, but he also had a headache all day long. As he returned from the bus stop, he could sense that he had aroused Sean’s attention. I’m about to convert to Catholicism, he thought dimly.

I know you’d hate it, came Sean’s thoughts. Headache, too?

Instead of a reply, Jeffrey sent along his pang of irritability and anger.

Sorry if I pissed you off.

No, you didn’t. No offense, I like you and everything, but I sorta liked it better when there weren’t aliens and psychic shit going on. Jeffrey stopped and cocked his head. Why are you walking around your house in your underwear?

I do sometimes. You know that.

Jeffrey shook his head and continued on his way. I guess I did. This headache isn’t helping my memory.

Well, you should try it sometime.

Yeah. My sister would love it if she brought her friends home to study or something and there I was running around all naked.

Who said anything about naked?

Jeffrey felt the slightest pang of arousal from Sean. Do we need to talk about that?

Do we? What would we need to talk about?

That. You did kiss me the other night.

You know how I feel about… things. And you weren’t upset about the kiss.

Jeffrey blanked out, gears spinning.

You haven’t given it any thought.

I haven’t given it any thought with you or with anyone?

Anyone.

Do I need to be interested in someone? I’m just not. People need to quit bugging me about it. It’s annoying. He knew that Sean was trying to get with him, and he didn’t know how or what to feel about it.

Well, your mom always says you’re a late bloomer.

Dude, you can fuck the hell off! So are you.

Jeffrey could feel Sean shrugging from down the block. Doesn’t mean that I don’t have needs. And I really don’t care about it. My dad didn’t fill out until the summer after his 9th grade year. Growing up is not a race.

You should listen to your mother’s words, then. Jeffrey could feel Sean watching him as he walked up his driveway. Even stranger, he could see himself, in his mind, from Sean’s vantage point. He grabbed the door handle and stopped, glancing back at Sean. What?

Nothing. Sean ducked away from the window, and Jeffrey could feel him throwing himself down on his bed, hiding in embarrassment.

Jeffrey didn’t know what the big deal was, anyway. Maybe he was missing something, or maybe he had a different understanding of things than his friend did. He went inside to do his homework, before this got any more awkward.

*****

After a quiet dinner with his family, and, vicariously, a strangely quiet dinner with Sean and his mother, Jeffrey helped his mother clean up the kitchen, ate an ice cream sandwich, and thought about going downstairs to work on his Final Fantasy VII game. He pulled the door to the basement open and stopped, staring through the darkness below. Again, he had a fear of it; this one seemed more permanent, like someone or something didn’t want him down there.

He shrugged it off as his mind playing tricks on him, and after taking only two steps down the staircase, a screeching noise ripped through his skull and he suddenly became lightheaded. His knees buckled, and he barely caught himself on the handrail.

His mother filled the doorway above him. “What happened? You okay?”

Jeffrey shook his head. “I missed a step. I’m fine.”

She nodded and walked off.

What was that? Sean asked.

No idea, Jeffrey thought back as he hurried out of the basement. Instead, he decided to take his nightly shower and go to bed early; he didn’t need to work on his game tonight.

After a longer shower than usual, he dried himself off and went into his bedroom. He picked up the Michael Crichton book on the night stand and opened it to his bookmark.

I loved that movie, Sean thought.

Congo? Don’t ruin it for me, I haven’t finished the…

Sean’s memories of watching the movie at the theater with his brother flooded into Jeffrey’s head. Jeffrey knew it wasn’t intentional, but it annoyed him, because now he knew how it ended.

Frustrated, Jeffrey slapped the book shut.

Sorry!

Don’t worry about it, he dimly thought, sliding down under his covers and pulling them over his head.

*****

Jeffrey was awoken by a spontaneous orgasm. He knew it wasn’t a wet dream, because he could feel the haze, the afterglow of Sean having completed a session with himself; he had been thinking of Elijah Wood naked.

Sean? Sean!

Nothing returned to him other than the aura of lust. Jeffrey figured the orgasm hadn’t ended for Sean yet, and the intense feelings were clouding him.

He gingerly lifted the covers, greeted by a very small wet spot. He was as hard as the day was long, and he was still throbbing.

Oh, God. He thought to himself. It’s going to be like this?

Suddenly, the world felt normal again as the aura shifted into something different: normalcy, sleepiness, and to a very small extent, catholic guilt. Jeffrey could sense an electric charge jolting through Sean, as Sean realized Jeffrey knew what had just happened.

Thanks, Jeffrey thought glibly, you just made me jizz myself. And Elijah Wood?

I didn’t mean to.

Well, apparently when you do it, it happens to both of us. His thought betrayed the fact that he felt a little dirty about it. Now I have to take a shower in the morning.

It’s not like you haven’t done it before.

That’s not the point! I was asleep. I wasn’t horny. I feel weird about it.

Well, what happens when you feel horny and you do it? What am I supposed to do?

I don’t know!? Jeffrey yelled in his head.

I jack off at night, dude. It’s a habit, I’m sorry. And you don’t get to make fun of Elijah Wood. You have an obsession with SeaQuest and I know… I KNOW it has everything to do with Jonathan Brandis.

It does not! I look up to him. He’s a good actor…

You have a crush on him! I saw the thought you just tried to hide. You jerk it to him all the time! Sean loudly thought back.

I do not!

Who the fuck are you kidding?

Shut up! Jeffrey sat up in his bed. We have got to figure this shit out before I go postal.