The River Leith (24 page)

He sighed, remembering the day he’d volunteered to get something out of the storage room for Zach and put in the combination to the door without even thinking.

He slammed his fist against the storage room wall. “Leith!” Zach cried. He’d put his arms around Leith’s waist from behind and rubbed his stomach soothingly. “Please, don’t get so worked up.”

Leith shook free and paced the storage room, realizing he knew where the lemons were kept
—
in the back corner
—
and not wanting to tell Zach that he knew.

“What are you thinking of?” Dr. Thakur asked him.

“A day I got angry.”

“With Zach?”

He shook his head. “With myself.”

“Why?”

“Because…I can’t remember.”

Leith hadn’t been able to take the look in Zach’s eyes that day in the storage room, not when he knew Zach
wanted
him to remember. And if Zach wanted him to remember, that meant Zach wanted the old him back, even now.

“You can’t remember why you got angry?”

“No,” Leith huffed. “I’m angry because I can’t remember.” He brought his hands up to his mouth, fingers steepled, and took deep breaths, feeling as though he were shaking down to his core.

“Leith?” Dr. Thakur asked.

But it in his mind it was Zach’s voice he heard.

“Leith, talk to me. Please.”

“Dr. Thakur says I should swim against the current. Not let myself get washed away in it.”

Zach had nodded and pressed his cheek to Leith’s shoulder. ”I won’t let you get washed away.”

“I only remember pointless things. Combination locks. How to mix drinks. But I don’t remember what’s important to you.”

“Hey, hey,” Zach said, moving in front of Leith and cupping his face in his hands. “You know who we are to each other, and that’s all I need. Everything else is past. It’s gone, and all that’s left is us. We don’t need anything else.”

Leith swallowed thickly. “What if I do?”

Zach shook his head. “You don’t have to know anything other than this,” and he kissed Leith’s lips so softly and sweetly that Leith’s knees buckled a little.
“Can you tell me more about this memory you’re caught up in?”

Leith shrugged and tried to put it into words. He felt a little nauseous, but it helped to get it out. “Zach hasn’t accepted it, I don’t think.”

“What?”

“That I’m never going to remember our past. He doesn’t want to talk about it because he hasn’t dealt with the fact that this is all we have. This time together now.”

“That last part is very true, but I can’t speak to Zach’s state of mind. He’s been a closed door to me from almost the beginning. He doesn’t talk about the times before?”

“Almost never. Only when I ask, and then only to answer my questions. Sometimes he’ll even try to avoid that by telling me all we need is each other here and now. On the surface it sounds like he’s accepted the truth, but underneath, I don’t think he has.”

“That’s very astute. If it causes him pain to remember, do you feel entitled to make him talk about it?”

“Not really. But the old Leith deserves to be remembered, doesn’t he?”

“Everyone deserves to be remembered.”

“And Zach’s the one who remembers him. I just wish it didn’t hurt him so much that the old Leith is gone. It makes me feel like I’m not good enough.”

“But you are good enough, Leith. Just the way you are.”

“Gee, thanks, doc. I feel all better now.”

Dr. Thakur snorted. “I’ve mentioned my wife is from India. Her grandmother taught her many things, and she walks around our house spouting wisdom left and right. Occasionally I’m reminded of the warning about throwing pearls before swine, so I sometimes attempt to be less of a pig and listen to her.”

Leith raised his eyebrows and wondered where this was going. “Uh-huh.”

“Last night she said to me, ‘Krishna told us that he was the taste of pure water, the sound of every voice and noise, the radiance of the sun and moon, and the courage of human beings.’ And I, in my own infinite wisdom, thought to myself, ‘Now that’s what I’ll tell Leith tomorrow, so that he can feel that he’s getting something meaningful from our discussion.’”

Leith was bewildered. “Okay,” he replied, nodding.

“Krishna, by the way, represents the vastness of everything, and that includes the future. He’s bigger and brighter than a thousand suns. Do you understand? Larger than any future
—
mine, yours, everyone’s. He’s big enough to encompass the past
and
the future,
and
every conceivable moment of both.”

“Dr. Thakur, is this religious instruction, or am I here for psychiatric counseling?”

“Some would say there’s very little difference between the two, but let me ask you a few questions, and perhaps we’ll come back around to what I was just telling you.”

“Sure.”

“Have you been thinking about that little bird lately?”

“The kinglet?”

“Yes, the one you thought of fairly often in the beginning. The one you wanted to help.”

Leith hadn’t thought about the kinglet in a while now, finding his focus was entirely on Zach. “No.”

“Boxing?”

Leith cleared his throat and looked down at his hands. He shrugged and squinted up into the sunny sky. “I don’t know.”

Dr. Thakur was silent for several minutes, and Leith listened to the birds rustling in the bushes.

Finally, Dr. Thakur said, “Human courage is a divine thing, you realize. It is right up there with the radiance of the moon, and the taste of pure water, and the light of a thousand suns. You, Leith, are incredibly courageous. I’ve watched you come to grips with a very difficult situation and face the loss of your father, your memory, and your idea of who your mother had been. I’ve seen you embrace desire for another man despite your confusion, and plunge into a life of strangers who love you. None are easy feats.”

“Poetry didn’t pay enough as a career?” Leith asked.

“No, annoying my patients suffering from amnesia pays much more.”

Leith smiled. “Yeah, yeah, go on.”

“How about I stop talking now? Why don’t you talk some more?”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me what you think about courage,” Dr. Thakur said.

“Courage,” Leith repeated aloud, studying his fingers. After a few minutes of silence, he said, “Everyone says boxing isn’t a smart thing to do. My neurologists advise against it. Zach says it frightens him.”

“Fear is a strong motivator.”

Leith thought about the future
—
the long stretch of it ahead of him, endless. It would roll on and on without him even after he was dead. He only had so much of it for himself. “Those memories, they were only three years. I’ve got an entire future waiting,” Leith said softly. “I don’t want to waste it being afraid.”

“Exactly,” Dr. Thakur agreed.

“Dr. Thakur, are you telling me to box again?”

“Of course not. I’m talking about Krishna, and my wife, and courage, and thousands of suns, and all kinds of madness. You’re the one talking about boxing.”

LATER THAT NIGHT

VLOG ENTRY #9

INT. BLUE FLIGHT – BOOTH

Zach sits alone in a booth in the empty restaurant. He salutes the camera.

ZACH

I’m in a bit of a mood tonight, my loves. Rumor has it that Leith is considering boxing again. And the person spreading this information is Leith himself, so I’m pretty sure it’s true.

He sighs.

I’m trying to be supportive because I know what the sport means to him, but I can’t cheer him on. It’s funny. I remember the old days when I’d watch him train. The way my heart would burst with pride and
—
yes, something a lot dirtier than pride
—
whenever I watched him in the ring. All that muscle, and sweat, and the power. God, that
power
.

But now when I think of boxing, I just remember the smell of that ever-present antiseptic in ICU, and I hear the beeps of those damn machines and…

Fuck him!

I just got him back and now I’m going to lose him again.

He rubs his eyes.

Fuck, I feel so guilty even saying this out loud, which is why I’m saying it to you and not to Marian or Ava…and definitely not to Leith. I could never look him in the face and say these words to him, because they’re so ungrateful and awful. I mean, I know, from the bottom of my heart and soul, I truly know how lucky I am to still have him in my life. But, my loves? I think I’m a bad person. Because here’s the thing
—
I miss him so much
.

I know, I know. Technically he’s here with me. He’s alive and he’s so much the same, but he’s
so
different too. He’s not the same man he was before. He’s like a colt finding his legs. My Leith, my sweet Leith, was cocky and sure of himself, and when I wavered or got scared, when I started to flake on my life or on us, he’d plow on through. Like
of course
everything was fine, and
of course
I could manage whatever was happening.

Now I’m supporting him, and I miss his bullshit bravado so damn much. I need someone to just bully me into believing we’re going to be fine. That I can do this, and that we’re okay. But I can’t have that. Because that person was Leith.

Some days I feel like he died after all.

He covers his face.

I’m so ashamed to say that. So fucking ashamed.

He drops his hands and clears his throat.

No, ignore that. Ignore all that whiny, needy crap and…don’t. Just please tell me everything’s going to be okay? I need to hear that so much right now. Please. Tell me he won’t box, or that if he does, he’s going to be safe, and tell me it’s okay to miss him, because I need someone to say that to me. Please…just, God, I wish he could hold me right now.

He wipes hastily at his face.

I hear him. I should go.

LEITH (
off screen
)

Are you coming up to bed?

Zach clears his throat and smiles.

ZACH

Yep! Just give me a second, okay?

LEITH (
off screen
)

Anything you want.

ZACH

Whispers to the camera.

Oh, how I wish he could deliver on that.

Talk to you all later.

“Are you going to take me? I’ve been out of the hospital over a month and I’m going whether you want me to or not.”

Arthur sighed. “Okay, I guess I can show you around. Just don’t tell Zach I took you.”

“I can handle it, Arthur,” Leith said, glaring at his brother. “I think it’s about time that I handled some things for myself.”

When he walked into the boxing club he was greeted by grunts of exertion and the slap and whap of gloves on skin and bags. He took a deep breath, the scents of sweat and mildew from the showers filling his nose.

“This is great,” he murmured, and then stopped in his tracks as the room grew quiet and all eyes turned to him. Every face showed a mix of concern and gladness, expressions that Leith was sick of seeing. It hadn’t even occurred to him that the men here would know him, but of course they would. He’d nearly been their champion.

“Leith!” A man with blond hair and expressive blue eyes approached, glancing over his shoulder as some guys fell in behind him. “Hey, bud. How are you?”

Leith hadn’t had to deal with this yet. Almost everyone he’d seen since leaving the hospital already knew about his injury.

“We were all worried about you,” the man went on. “Most of us testified as witnesses, even though they had it on video.”

Leith nodded and plastered a friendly smile on his face. “I’m sorry, but the injury damaged my memory. I’m afraid I don’t remember you.” He paused and looked around at everyone gathering. “Or any of you. Sorry.”

The glances exchanged around the room were full of meaning both obvious, such as pity, and less obvious. Leith cleared this throat. “I wanted to have a look at the club. I was thinking of training again.”

“I’m Marvin,” the man said, sticking out his hand. “I’ll show you around.”

“Jerry,” another guy said, and Leith shook his hand too.

The men filed around him, shaking hands if they had their gloves off, or gently punching him on the shoulder if they didn’t. Marvin walked him around, explaining the club dues and indicating the showers and the water cooler.

Leith stopped by the bulletin board next to the changing room. There was a news article tacked up, and his heart skipped a beat as he peered at the photo. It was him in the practice ring. His boxing gloves framed Zach’s face, and he was kissing him. His eyes were drawn to the headline:
Can Brooklyn’s Gay Boxer Beat the Odds?

“Zach,” Leith said, touching the photo and smiling a little. They looked so happy, and his heart ached at the expression of joy and pride on Zach’s face. He wanted to see that expression directed at
him
, not at the old version of him smiling in the photo. He gritted his teeth a little, working to gain control over the jealousy he felt.