Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 62430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
He looked up, meeting my gaze with hope. I didn’t have the heart to put any distance between us, so I just smiled. My hand ached to reach out and touch his, to reassure him in that most basic human way that I was there for him. But I saw that he understood. More dangerously, I saw that he shared some of my forbidden desires. It was just a look, just a communication of lust across the space that divided us, but still, I could tell that he longed to touch me too.
I tore my mind from the gutter and broke off the exchange. I was terrified that he had seen it, the entire scene as it played out in my mind. He knew I harbored intentions that weren’t professional. Could he see into my soul, or was I being foolish?
“I have to go make my rounds,” I excused myself.
He said nothing, content to watch me gather my wits and leave.
I turned around. “I think you’re going to get transferred to the low-risk area soon. No more locked doors.”
He grinned. “Hooray. Thanks.”
“It’s not my call,” I hastened to explain. “But I’ll see what I can do.” I slipped out of the room without waiting to see his response. I was in way over my head with this attraction. It would be a blessing in disguise to see him released into the communal area, where we could no longer be locked into a confined space together. And then he would check himself out, and I would never see him again. What a relief that would be, not having to contain my desire any longer. Then why didn’t I feel relieved? Instead, I felt sad that our time together was at an end.
7
PORTER
Just as Gina had promised, I was moved from my locked room to a shared room on the first floor. One of the orderlies, Brad, showed me around.
“This is the game room.” He gestured to a room populated by couches, sporting half a dozen large screens where residents played somewhat dated video games. In one corner was a space for low-tech entertainment like cards and chess. Two older residents sat facing each other across a chessboard. “This is the cafeteria.” We passed a smallish room full of round tables. It was empty at the moment. “This is the gym.” He paused at a closet-sized space that boasted two treadmills and a floor-to-ceiling mirror. A set of free weights was crowded into one corner.
I noticed none of the rooms had doors. None of the dormitory rooms had doors either, so when Brad dropped me off at mine, I discovered that I would have no privacy for the remainder of my stay. I had no luggage with me, nothing to unpack or settle into my new digs.
There were two cots in this room, which was almost exactly the same as my old room. Instead of a toilet, there were some shelves with generic reading material, including the twelve-step book and a Bible. I sat down on one of the beds and looked at the wall for a moment. There was nothing interesting in here, so I decided to flex my newfound freedom by walking around the common area.
There was a nurses’ station in the middle, staffed by competent-looking men and women. Gina was nowhere to be seen, so I moved on. There were a few closed doors on this floor, and when I peeked through the safety glass, I could see group therapy sessions, people sitting in circles on folding chairs. With nothing better to do, I decided to take advantage of the “gym.”
I squeezed inside and selected a treadmill. I picked a 5k setting with hills and started off. There was no television or music to keep me company, and after thirty minutes, not only was I bored, but I was also sweaty. I moved on to the weights. After more than a week of atrophy, I could feel the difference in my muscles. Hauling lumber would be difficult when I finally got back to work. I decided to visit the gym every day if I could. At least it would give me something to do.
I drifted into the game room next and found an open console. My choices were Atari games or Super Mario Brothers. I guessed that the more modern games were off-limits due to violent content. That or they didn’t want us online trying to score dope from someone halfway around the world. The game took me back to a time in my childhood that had been alright. I remembered having sleepovers at Mike’s house and playing Super Mario Brothers. It had been old even then but still a classic.
At noon, the residents got up in unison. “Lunch,” one of them explained. I turned my console off and followed, wondering if lunch would be the same white sandwiches that I had in solitary. It was. I might thank this treatment center for saving my life, but I wouldn’t have good things to say about the menu.