Forget Me Not
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Joe woke up the next morning to his cell phone beeping. It was his alarm clock and he quickly quieted it so the sleeping figure beside him wouldn’t wake up. He leaned back against the pillows for a moment more to stare in awe at his little brother lying in Joe’s spare pajamas, arms tucked tightly to his chest to keep himself warm. Joe couldn’t help but smile and wanted to never to get out of the bed.
But he had to go to work so he got out of the bed and reluctantly put on his tight clothes, letting his dark hair hang around his face instead of styling it so he would be on time and his boss wouldn’t punish him. He ate a granola bar in three bites and chased it down with orange juice from the carton. He found his bag and coat and quietly left the apartment.
When he was on the subway people stared at him. Joe was used to the stares and whispers, always comments about his tight, revealing outfit which eventually led to suspicions about what particular job he was on his way to, so he just hung his head and waited for his stop.
He got out of the train station and walked the couple blocks to his workplace. He paused in front of the large building to stare at it sadly. He promised himself he would never let Nick find out where he worked.
His cell phone started ringing, and Joe was shaken out of his trance. He scrambled through his bag and answered the phone on the last ring.
“Joe, where are you?”
It was Nick’s voice.
Joe gasped, surprised, and stuttered, “Nick? Um, I’m at work. I left a note on the fridge. I should be back in a couple hours.”
To his surprise, Joe heard a flustered, “No! You have to come back right now.”
“Is something wrong?” Joe asked, anxiety filling him. “Are you not feeling well?”
“My… my wound hurts,” Nick said. “I need you to come home and take care of me. Didn’t you say that’s what you wanted?”
Joe trembled. “Yes, Nick, that’s exactly what I want, but I can’t miss work! My boss will kill me.”
“But…what if something happens to me? I told you, I’m in pain. You need to come home. Please.”
Joe stayed silent for a moment, contemplating, and then said, “Okay. I’m on my way home. I’ll be right there.”
“Okay. I’ll be waiting for you.”
They hung up the phone and Joe stared bleakly at the building once more. Then he turned on his heel and sprinted back toward the subway station.
He hurried so that in a matter of minutes he was pushing through the apartment door. “Nick?” he called.
“Welcome home,” Nick said cheerfully as he walked toward Joe from the living room.
Joe’s eyes traveled around Nick’s body. He was standing up straight and didn’t appear to be in any pain. “Are you alright? I thought you were hurt.”
“Oh, well, the pain went away. Isn’t that nice?”
“Oh, yes, that’s wonderful,” Joe answered, feeling some relief. “But are you sure you’re alright now, because I really do have to get to work.”
Nick looked alarmed. “No, you don’t,” he said firmly. “You can afford to take one day off, right? Why don’t you call your boss right now and tell him you aren’t feeling well.”
Joe paused and regarded his brother for a moment. “Well… okay,” he said. He smiled when he saw the happiness on Nick’s face. “I’ll be right back,” he told him.
He walked into the bedroom and took out his phone. He found his boss’s number in his contact list and his thumb hovered above the call button. A minute passed, then two, and then Joe decided he couldn’t do it. Mr. Jost was a terrifying man. He decided to abandon his task and rejoined Nick in the living room. The brothers smiled at each other as Joe sat down beside him and settled down to watch more TV.
“Do you want some breakfast?” Joe asked cheerfully. “I have eggs, and cereal, and coffee and toast and stuff.”
Nick scrunched up his nose like he was contemplating his options, which made Joe giggle quietly, and then he said, “Maybe later. I didn’t usually eat breakfast back home.”
The words “back home” made Joe’s stomach clench. He wondered how long Nick was planning to stay with him, and if he was ever going back “home.”
“Okay, then I’ll think of a really nice lunch to make,” Joe said, pushing away his thoughts and grinning.
They sat shoulder-to-shoulder, grinning and watching TV, which was more MTV for Nick. Joe wasn’t a fan of the blaring rap music but figured that he could sit through a tiger chewing off his leg if it meant being next to Nick.
“This is really nice,” Joe said after a few minutes of TV, “being here with you.” His words were rewarded with a shy smile from Nick and he felt his body tingle with giddiness. “But, why didn’t you want me to go to work in the first place?”
“I told you, I didn’t want to be left alone with my wound,” Nick replied, his smile dropping.
Joe peered at him curiously. “I know, but just the other day you said you didn’t want me to look after you too much, how you wanted to be the one who took care of things.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I just wanted you to stay and be with me. This is only the third day since we reunited.”
“Then you should have told me,” Joe laughed softly. “You need to understand, my boss is a total monster. No one ever misses a day of work at his place.”
Nick continued to watch TV silently.
“So,” Joe continued, “this can’t happen again. I’ll have to go back to work tomorrow, and the days after that. It isn’t so bad, it’s only a few hours a day and it’s better than not having any money, right?”
Nick raised the volume of the TV slightly.
Joe looked at him. “Nick…?”
Nick sighed and turned to face Bill. “Look, I don’t want you to go to work! I’ll miss you if you go. And someone could come in here and shoot me again.”
Joe’s eyes widened. “No one is going to shoot you,” he said. “I always double-lock the door.”
“Then how did I get in here last night?” Nick said, his voice gentle to compensate for his sharp words. “If you leave me, something bad is going to happen. I can feel it.”
Joe leaned forward and hugged Nick. “Jesus, what happened to you? You don’t need to ever be scared anymore, Nick. We’re together now. Everything will be fine.”
“Will we be together always?” Nick asked against Joe’s shoulder.
Joe nodded his head. “Always.”
Nick smiled. “So then you can’t go to work tomorrow,” he said.
Joe paused. He tried to find some way to argue with Nick, but let out a breath and gave up. “Okay…” he said.
Nick beamed from ear to ear and sat up straight again. “That makes me happy,” he said, and turned back to the TV.
Joe felt uneasy as he slowly turned forward and pretended to be interested in the show. Dread built up in his stomach and he tried to figure out a way to please both Nick and his boss. It was Mr. Jost, after all, whom he owed the enormous debt to.
Over their lunch of Sauerbraten and potato dumplings, Joe asked, “Did you bring any clothes with you? I could wash them so you can wear a new outfit tomorrow.”
Nick nodded, still in his borrowed pajamas. “I have some clothes in my bag.”
“Okay, I’ll wash them after lunch.”
Joe ate every morsel off his plate while Nick stared and picked at his own food. “I see you’re appetite has changed as well,” Joe observed.
Nick looked up. “What?” he said with, forking a potato.
Joe smiled a little. “You used to eat like a garbage disposal,” he said, “You always cleaned your plate. We both did.”
“Oh. Well, I started eating less when I hit puberty,” Nick shrugged. “You seem to still have the same eating habits, I see.”
Joe smiled sheepishly and Nick slid his plate over to him. “Finish it,” he said. Joe gladly obliged.
After lunch, Joe found Nick’s ratty book bag in his bedroom and swung it over his shoulder. “I’m going downstairs to the laundry room,” he said over his shoulder to Nick as he picked up the basket of his own laundry at the door.
“’Kay,” was Nick’s simple answer.
Joe frowned; wasn’t Nick the one to insist that they spend every second together?
He took the stairs cautiously the seven flights down to the basement and kicked the door open. He apologized, embarrassed, when the other tenants glared at him. He found a spare washer and dumped his clothes in. He unzipped Nick’s bag and took out his non-clothing items like an iPod and an extra pair of shoes. He picked up a faded flannel shirt that was the first thing inside and tossed it in along with his own clothes. He did the same to all of Nick’s clothes individually, taking the time to smile giddily at each one before depositing it into the washer.
When he picked up the last pair of jeans something fell out and onto the floor. Joe bent down to pick it up and saw that it was a small, clear baggy. He looked at it for a moment, unsure if what it was, until he saw the tiny white rock crystals inside. He dropped the bag immediately and jumped back.
After a moment he realized he couldn’t leave it there and picked it back up. A woman with her toddler daughter gasped and dragged her child out of the laundry room at the sight, muttering angrily, “a whore, and now this?”
Joe’s feelings were hurt and he swallowed the lump in his throat at her assumption that the drugs were his. The tears, despite his struggle, fell from his eyes as he realized that there was no other conclusion than that the drugs were Nick’s.
What has happened to you? Joe thought miserably to himself.
He had no choice but to stuff the baggy into his jeans pocket and put detergent into the washer and turn it on. He stared at the water saturating the clothes inside for a moment before sniffling and tossing Nick’s bag into the laundry basket and returning upstairs.
He unlocked the door to see that Nick had not moved from his spot on the couch.
“Nicky,” Joe said. When he got no answer he said again, “Nick.”
Nick finally turned around and said, “Oh, me?”
Joe nodded. “That’s your nickname. I used to call you that sometimes. Don’t you remember?”
Nick shrugged. “Yeah, of course I do. I just didn’t hear you.”
Joe nodded again, slowly, and looked away. “I have a question for you,” he said solemnly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the baggy. “What is this?” he asked, his voice cracking.
Nick didn’t look surprised, and instead stood up off the couch and walked over to Joe. “This,” he started, taking the baggy from Joe, “is something I brought for you to clean the kitchen with.” He laughed apologetically at his ridiculous and slightly sarcastic explanation and walked over to the kitchen sink.
“See?” He poured the contents of the bag down the drain and turned on the water. “It’s cleaning. And now, it’s gone.” He returned to the couch and didn’t give Joe another word.
Joe stayed in the same spot, looking at the back of Nick’s head, trying to force himself into saying something or argue with him about the drugs, but he surrendered and walked over to sit beside Nick again.