When he reaches for the blindfold he is struck again across the face, a heavy slap that staggers him. His head spins. Hands pull him up straight. The strength of their grip is frightening. It is a man, he thinks, because of the strength of the hands and the fact that its breath comes from slightly above him. But it is a thing even if it is a man, and Nathan is afraid of it, because it is as if it has always been waiting for him, as if it always knew he would come.
The thing pulls Nathan's arms behind him and shoves him forward. It twists Nathan's arms to control him, and they walk. There is no sense of hurry. Nothing is said. Nathan feels as if they have come to a lighter place, as if there is moonlight, but he knows better than to touch the blindfold. His arms hurt, but he tries to make as little sound as possible. They come to stairs and climb. These are different stairs than before, and the feeling of a narrow space. They are climbing for a long time, they change direction twice. Nathan can feel the thing's bare body, its hairy front. Finally they stop climbing, and the thing shoves him, twisting his arms.
One arm lights with pain, and Nathan makes a small sound because of it. He stumbles forward and crashes into something soft, he hits his head on a bar and sinks into softness, the smell of cloth, the rasp of a button on his cheek. The impression of a button is clear. His knee strikes the comer of something hard. Before he can stand on his own, the hands are pulling him, he is jerked by the shoulders, and again the strength of the man thing surprises him. He is turned around to face it and he is trembling.
"Please don't hit me anymore. I won't touch the blindfold. I won't run."
He can hear the moistness of its lips. It is wetting its lips with its tongue. Something about the darkness, the fact that Nathan cannot see, makes the sound seem familiar, and for a moment he is afraid this is Dad, Dad has followed him here.
A hand cups Nathan's jaw, applying no pressure, simply framing the jaw. Nathan holds perfectly still.
The other hand rips the blindfold free.
It has been tied so tight up till now. Everything is a blur. The outline of the man-thing faces him. Shoulders squared, breath heaving. The face still hidden in shadow. They are in the attic, they are under a low pitched roof. Objects appear in a haze: a heap of white fabric, a chair leg, a broom. Nathan rubs his eyes gently. He is seeing better and better. The man stands behind him. He is wearing jeans. He wears no shirt, and his body is thick and powerful. Moonlight from a dormer window coats his flesh in milk and shadow.
Nathan should recognize the body, the roundness and brownness of nipples nested among dense hair. But Nathan is dazed and the shadow face will not resolve, the body steps forward and pulls a narrow bottle from its back pocket. Eyes that have been struck by lightning, they glitter. "You want some whiskey, Nathan?"
"No."
"You sure? It might calm you down." "I'm all right."
The voice jangles. Nathan should know it. "We went through that first bottle too fast. I'm keeping this one to myself. You know what I mean?"
He swallows. The long relaxed motion of his throat catches moonlight, shimmers. He keeps his eyes on Nathan as he drinks.
Setting the bottle on the floor nearby, he grabs Nathan by the shirt and wipes his mouth on it. Nathan tries to pull away, and a fist hits him again. The impact of the hand is as sudden as before, and Nathan feels thunder and staggers.
"Don’t pull away from me." There is something plaintive in his voice, almost soft. But then there are his eyes, blazing like a predator cat. "Don't." "Okay. I won't."
Silence again. A glazed look in Burke's eyes. It is Burke, that is the name. But for a moment it is like a shadow taking Burke's shape. Burke has not decided what to do, not entirely. He shrugs his shoulders, and Nathan realizes how much bigger than Roy he actually is. His body has a frightening hardness. He focuses on Nathan again. "Roy left you in the house."
Silence.
"I came back." His fingers dig into Nathan's shoulders. "You don't like me, do you?" "I like you fine." "Do you?" ‘
"Yes."
Burke wets his lips. "I saw you."
Nathan's heart picks up its beat. "You did?"
"Oh yeah. You were on the floor. You know when?"
"When?"
"When Roy had your dick in his mouth. When he was on his knees in front of you and he was sucking your dick. Do you suck his dick too?"
Nathan feels a throbbing in his head, and a heaviness in all his limbs. He speaks past the weight on his chest. "It wasn't like that. He wasn't doing that."
"Yes he was."
"Please, Burke, let's go back to camp—"
