Chapter 3 Brian wasn't sure how long he sat on the ground, huddled underneath the tree. There was only one mercy right now, and that was that the hail had stopped. He could feel the wind pick up as yet another round of showers was starting to fall. His body virtually throbbed from the beating of the hail, falling, and all of the anxiety he was going through. Oh, God, please help me. Funny how people always call on God in their time of need, even if they don't necessarily believe in such a being. Most people would close their eyes and hide in a world of darkness, but Brian was already in that world; perpetually in that world with no escape. He hugged his knees to his chest and let his head fall to his knees as another gust of wind dislodged rain from the tree onto his body, and another gust of wind hit him with even more rain. As Brian hid his face, he tried to play a mind game that he sometimes liked to play: What is the last image I remember? He never could really get a clear picture in his mind's eye. Logic told him it must be the battery before it exploded, but he could never conjure it. He could remember clearly his time in the hospital and in rehab. The doctors were so solicitous: You'll just have to get used to it, Mr. Kinney. Bullshit. He'd show them that he could get by fine without sight in the sighted world. Hell, who are you fooling, Kinney? You're like a scared three-year-old unable to move. Brian lifted his head, cocking it, trying to decided if he actually heard footsteps or if the wind was playing tricks with him. "Here you are. I should never have left you down here!" It was Justin, and just as that registered in Brian's brain, he felt the wet nose of the dog pressing against his face. "Stop it, Jillie. Leave him alone. Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself? I saw your chair on the trail." "Where am I?" "You're almost to the road. You're between the cabins. Let me help you up." Brian could feel the hands trying to lift him up, and he stood on shaky legs. As he reached to put his arms around Justin's shoulders, he was surprised by the size of the man. Was it a man or a boy? He couldn't be more than 5'9", Brian thought to himself; yet he was strong. He could feel the strength in the shoulders and the arms as Justin held tight to Brian. As Brian was rising, his face came close to Justin's hair, and damn if it didn't smell so good. He could feel his body responding to this person who he had never seen. "How old are you, anyway? You're awfully short." Nothing like insulting the man, Brian, who is trying to help you. "I'm 24, and I'm an average height, I'll have you know." "For what, a 12-year-old?" Justin decided to ignore all comments. The man was probably humiliated and needed to take out his frustraton on somebody, and he happend to be the closest body on hand. "I should have never left you down here. I knew the storm was coming in. I should have insisted." "Just take me back to the trail. I can manage from there." "Don't be stupid. I'm not going to leave you out here again." "Don't fucking call me stupid, you little shit. How far to the cabin?" Justin had just about had enough, took a deep breath to bolster his courage and let fly, "Would you just shut the fuck up and come on? I'm taking you back whether you like it or not." Brian thought they were never going to make it to the cabin. Just when he thought Justin didn't know where the hell he was going, and he could see, they finally came to a stop. "Just wait here for me so I can open the door." "I can take if from here. You can go now." Justin decided to ignore Brian, and he continued to help him up the stairs of the porch and into the house, having tied Jillie up to the outside railing. "I could help you out of those wet clothes." What am I saying, Justin wondered. What, now I want to see the man naked? Get a grip, Justin. Brian heard the hitch in Justin's voice and couldn't help but make him feel even more uncomfortable. "What's wrong, little boy, haven't gotten any in awhile?" That will do it, Brian thought. Get the spying little shit out of my house. Justin steered Brian over to a chair and sat him down. "You're sitting by the phone. Do you know where you are now?" "I'll be fine. Would you just get the hell out of here? "All right. I'm leaving." "Go ahead and phone Lindsay while you're at it." "Do you want me to?" "You do whatever the hell you want. Just leave me alone." "You know, it's not a crime to ask for help once in awhile." Before Brian could fire off a sarcastic reply to that last statement, he heard Justin's footsteps and then the kitchen door slam. He was cold and wet and suddenly it all seemed to hit him at once. He was out in the weather, helpless, unable to do anything. He needed to do something. Brian doesn't know how long he sat there, but the only thought that kept going through his head was I can never be that helpless again. NEVER! Slowly, he picked up the phone to call Lindsay. ----------------------------------------- Five days later Lindsay found herself driving back to Marklesburg to see Brian. She had called Melanie when she got the call, and Melanie didn't seem surprised that Brian had decided to give the experimental procedure a try. Lindsay was relentless and pressed Brian again and again about why the sudden change in heart, and Brian had finally broken down and told her about the storm after she had left and having to be rescued by the man who lived next door. When Lindsay arrived she was shocked to see the condition of the cabin. It was as if a tornado had gone through the place. Brian was impatiently sitting on the couch with a suitcase sitting by the door. "Brian, what happened?" "I guess you could say I had a little temper tantrum." "I think that's putting it mildly. Where's Mrs. Anderson, the cleaning lady?" "I told her to go to hell. Let's just go." Lindsay looked in the kitchen and saw all of the dishes piled in the sink. The smell was becoming intolerable. How had neat-freak Brian managed to survive for five days in this squalor? Lindsay decided there was no use in doing anything about it now. She led Brian out the door and over to her car, putting the suitcase in the back seat. "I'll be right back," Lindsay said. "He phoned you, didn't he." "Nobody phoned me but you, Brian." "Go and thank him for me," Brian spat out. Lindsay slammed the door and started to walk toward Justin's cabin. She could hear Brian yelling in the car for her to get the hell back there. Lindsay knocked on the door, remembering the young blonde and his wonderful personality. She was so happy that he lived next door, able to keep an eye on Brian. Lost in her thoughts of Brian, she didn't even realize Justin had come to the door. "Hey, Lindsay. What brings you up here? I really don't have any new pieces prepared yet, if that's why you're here." Lindsay was startled out of her thoughts and looked over to Justin. He had a smear of paint on his cheek, and was busily cleaning the brushes that were in his hand. "Hi, Justin. No, it's not that. Although I have gotten incredible feedback about the pieces I took with me last time. That last commission you did was wonderful. Just that one alone will probably bring you more work, just by word of mouth. Brian said you helped him, when he got lost in the storm and all." "He told you?" "Well, not exactly. Can I come in for a minute and talk?" "Sure." Justin held the door open for her to walk in. Lindsay looked around. Justin's cabin was almost identical to Brian's although not as austere. There was color everywhere on canvases that were leaning against walls, handing on walls, and some laying on the dining room table. The air had an unmistakable scent of paint thinner, gesso, and paint that Lindsay loved. She only wished she had half the talent that this young man had. "Brian was worried that you might have called me." "I didn't. I thought he felt humiliated enough getting caught out there." "You don't want to tell me what really happened?" "No, that's all right. If he wants you to know, he can tell you." Lindsay suddenly realized that this boy -- no, man, felt something for Brian. She didn't know what exactly, but there was something there. Looking at Justin's face, Lindsay finally understood maybe why he felt an attraction to Brian. There was a pain there, too. Not as acute as Brian's, but yet it was there. Why did so talented an artist hide himself away out here, working with the dogs, when he could be setting the art world on fire? She was on the verge of asking him all of this when Justin broke in. "Why is he out here, anyway? I've never seen any friends come out to visit him." "No, they wouldn't. He's run most of them off. Brian has a lot of pride; I think too much sometimes. He's not willing to let people help him. I'm just about the only person he has let stay in his life. Justin, I came over to ask a favor. I'm taking Brian into Pittsburgh for a bit, and then we might be gone overseas for a while. I was wondering if you could keep an eye on the place? Here's the key. Also, he's chased off the cleaning lady. If you wouldn't mind straightening it up a bit while we're gone?" "Sure. No problem. I'd be happy to." "I appreciate that. Brian will, too." Justin gave a chuckle. "I highly doubt that. What's going on in the city?" Lindsay didn't know what to say to that, and then decided to say, "Possible surgery for his eyes." "Would he be able to see again?" "Possibly, but not like you or I." "That would be wonderful." But deep down Justin had to admit that if he got his sight back, would that mean he would be leaving for good? Lindsay smiled at Justin and gave him the key and a quick hug before leaving. --------------------------------------- As Lindsay got back in the car, a fuming Brian turned to her, "Did Justin tell you how much fun he had helping the blind man?" "Why the hell don't you just grow up, Brian? He's quite nice, if you want to get to know him. He's gay, too, by the way. I don't think I ever told you that." "He's a pain in the ass; him and those damn dogs." Lindsay started the car and headed out to the main road. After about 20 minutes of silence, Brian finally asked: "He never called you, did he." "Nope. I just wanted to thank him for giving you a hand, and also talk about his work a bit." "He didn't say anything?" "He said I could ask you if I wanted to know anything. I think he likes you." "Well, he's a damn fool then.