Wonderland (5 page)

W
hen I got back to my place, I plugged my phone in so it wouldn't die and I wouldn't miss Steven's call, then fed my cat. I'd gotten him from Dinah years before, before I'd started dating Aaron, after a breakup with a pseudo-boyfriend named Chad. I don't think she understood that gay guys could, and often did, break up without hard feelings. We couldn't stay mad at each other; there weren't enough of us to go around. Straight people could break up and then completely lose track of their exes; gay people didn't have that luxury. There were only so many places gay men went, and even if you never bumped into your ex, you bumped into someone who knew him, someone who was only too happy to let you know how fabulous he was doing in your absence.

I had wanted a clean start, away from Aaron, from all our mutual friends, from all our mutual life. Dinah was the only piece that came with me, and she'd always been “mine” not “ours.” She and Aaron got along great, sure, but her loyalty was to me.

I flopped down on my couch and turned on the TV. Griffin rubbed up against me, and I scratched his chin till he purred contentedly. I wished Steven would hurry the hell up and call. He had to be fine. Clearly, our fight, and maybe his date, had distracted him and he'd just left the door open. People didn't just vanish.

My phone rang, and I jumped up to get it, sending Griffin hissing to the floor. “Fuck!” I swore, seeing Jesse on the caller ID.

“No, I haven't heard from him,” I said as I answered. “Have you?”

“No. What are you doing tonight?”

“Staying in and waiting for him to call.”

“You need to come out. Keep distracted.”

“I'm not in the mood for the club.”

“We don't have to go dancing. Come watch a movie with Colton and I.”

“Colton and me,” I corrected without thinking, just like Steven always did to me. “And thanks but no thanks, I really just feel like staying in.”

“Want us to come over? We could bring Chinese.”

I hadn't had much for brunch, and hadn't eaten since, but I just didn't feel hungry, and I told Jesse that. He insisted though, and I eventually gave in, and within the hour, my buzzer rang.

“Come on up,” I yelled into it, pressing the button on my intercom. “Well, Griffin, we have company.” The buzzer rang again. “Didn't catch it?” I asked.

“Maybe you shouldn't be buzzing strangers into your building.”

“Who is this? Colton?”

“There's a lot of crazies in the city. You need to be more careful.”

“Who the fuck are you?” There wasn't any answer.

The fuck?
I thought, as the buzzer rang again. “Look, who is this?”

“Is Chinese food for you! You angry when you hungry!” It was Jesse in his sad attempt at an accent.

“Do you guys see anyone around down there?”

“There was a guy leaving when our cab pulled up. Why?”

“Come on up,” I said, buzzing them in. Crazies in the city indeed.

There was a knock on my door, and I looked through the peephole. Jesse and Colton were leaning against the opposite wall, rubbing each other suggestively. I opened the door, laughing. “Get in, you idiots, before the Walrus sees you and makes a complaint.” The Walrus was my old fat homophobic neighbor with the most ridiculous moustache I'd ever seen.

They grabbed the brown bags of Chinese food off the floor and came in, kissing me on the cheek as they entered. “He still giving you a hard time?” Colton asked as I locked the door behind them.

“He's an idiot,” I said. “Sometimes Steven and I make out in front of his door just so he has something to complain about.”

“He hasn't called?”

“Not yet. Hey, who was leaving when you pulled up?”

“Just some guy. Why?”

I told them about the strange intercom conversation. When I was done, Jesse said, “He was just a guy. I didn't really pay attention.”

“He had a nice ass though,” Colton offered.

Jesse swatted him. “You would notice.”

“Of course I noticed. But I wouldn't worry.”

“I'm not.”

“I was talking to Alex.”

“I'm not either.” I said, “It's just weird, with Steven missing.”

“That's Brandon being dramatic. He's not
missing
missing, I'm sure.”

“With his door wide open? That's strange.”

“It's strange, definitely, but I wouldn't worry. Not yet.”

“I'm trying not to.”

“Good, let's eat,” Jesse said, handing me one of the bags. “Egg roll?”

J
esse and Colton got snuggly during the movie after we ate, and it drove home how much I was missing Steven. We hadn't ever gone this long without seeing each other, much less talking. I twiddled my phone in my hand, and I looked at it as much as I looked at the movie we were watching, but the old adage is true: “A watched iPhone never vibrates.”

By the end of the movie, Jesse had fallen asleep with his head in Colton's lap. It was absolutely precious, and Colton smiled at me smiling at them. “Hey sweetie,” he whispered, brushing Jesse's hair. “Wake up.”

Jesse moaned and woke up with a pouty expression. “I was having a great dream, that my head was in your . . . oh it is.” They kissed.

It was cute, corny, sweet, and made me miss Steven like crazy. “Get out, bitches. I need to sleep.”

I walked them to the door. “Thanks for the Chinese,” I said, as they grabbed their jackets, put on their shoes.

“He'll show up,” Jesse said.

“He's probably calling you right now,” Colton said, “and he'll apologize to your ass all night long.”

“Or do something else to your ass all night long.”

We laughed, and the door across the hall opened. My neighbor stood there, all receded hair, and shoulder hair, and moustache and man-boob.

“Oooh! We've awoken the Walrus!” Jesse half-whispered, and we all laughed as the Walrus glared.

“Do you ladies mind? It's late.”

“It's eight-thirty, hunny,” Colton minced.

The Walrus glared and slammed his door. “Can you not shut your door so hard, we're, like, trying to talk here!” Jesse, talking valley-girl, reduced us to tears.

“Okay guys, seriously.”

“Text us in the morning?”

“Or anytime, if he calls?”

“Absolutely.” We hugged and then they made out violently against the Walrus's door. Colton lifted Jesse up, faux-banging him against the wall, all grunts and moans and laughter. Then they walked down the hall laughing, their hands in each other's back pockets.

They'd always flirted with me and Steven, and they'd always been very open about their threesomes, and I'd always been curious. Steven wasn't into the idea, though, not that we'd ever really talked about it, but I could tell. For it to have happened so soon after our fight really did make me feel bad, but it was the gin and the coke and the sadness.

And the horniness, I admitted freely. Sex wasn't love, though; it could be meaningless, and frequently was. If Steven and I got back together—no,
when
Steven and I got back together—it wouldn't even be a blip on his radar. The drugs were more a betrayal than the sex. I mean, sure, we weren't like every other gay couple these days, doing the open thing, but . . . well, it was just sex.

Or was I just trying to convince myself of that? I'd never understood the gay guys who could do the open relationship thing, so why was I suddenly all about outside sex? Steven and I had agreed from the beginning we were monogamous (and really, with a hot catch like Steven, I didn't even want anyone else), but he had said we were done, and sex filled the void. In every way.

I checked my phone, and there was nothing. I hopped in the shower, and after, I checked my phone, and there was nothing. I lay there in bed, staring at my phone on my nightstand. I wondered if or when I should call the police. If he didn't get in touch by the time I was done with work on Monday, it would be time to panic.

The ring box sat on my dresser. It was the most recent crazy idea in the long line of crazy ideas that was my and Steven's relationship. Everything had been going so amazingly well, and it just felt right. I was almost thirty, my wild oats were sowed and I was ready for it. But thirty and about to be engaged? I felt it sitting on my chest, and when a couple drinks after work didn't shake it loose, and the Caterpillar was there, I figured, why not? It wouldn't hurt anything. It didn't mean anything.

I nearly had myself convinced of that when I fell asleep.

I woke up to Griffin licking my face. “Scoot!” I snapped, tossing him gently onto the end of the bed. My room was cold and I could hear a rattling. The fuck? I wrapped myself up in my quilt and turned on the living room lights. My window blinds were blowing against each other.

“That's curious,” I said out loud. I didn't remember leaving the window open.

Griffin sauntered out of the bedroom and meowed at me. “Did you open the window?” I asked him. He looked at me and meowed again. I closed the window, and looked out through the blinds. The city was alive below me, the lights, the late-night traffic. Somewhere out in that city, under those stars, Steven was probably laughing that I was worried.

I crawled back into bed, and Griffin hopped up onto the pillow next to me. I scratched the back of his head and yawned. “You better be okay,” I said, and started to doze off. My iPhone's vibrating jerked me out of sleep. I grabbed it. Unknown number?

“Hello?” I answered.

“Is this Alex?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“Did you shut your window?”

“Who is this?”

“You don't want to catch a draft now, do you?”

“Look, if you don't tell me who this is, I'm hanging up and calling the cops.”

“No, you look! Call the cops and Steven might not make it back to you.”

“Alex!”

It was Steven's voice, calling from the background. I was suddenly wide awake. “Who is this? Let me talk to Steven.”

“Steven is fine. How long he stays that way depends on you doing exactly what I tell you.”

“What do you want?”

“I will call you in the morning. I'm watching you.”

“I want to talk to Steven.”

“Alex, I love you!”

“Sweet dreams, Alex.” And the phone went dead.

I sat there, staring at the phone. Griffin meowed and rubbed against me. The voice had been unrecognizable, changing from one clearly faked accent to another. Someone, with bad accents and B-movie dialogue, had Steven. The fuck!

I
think I'd just fallen asleep when my alarm went off. My dreams, always strange, had been even stranger than normal. I was chasing Steven through a garden of giant flowers, and being chased in turn by my cat. No matter how loudly I called him, he kept running, and the flowers kept getting bigger and bigger. Just when I was about to grab hold of him, the flowers started changing into people I knew, and I lost Steven in the crowd.

Too many egg rolls.

There was nothing on my phone, and my window was still shut. I stuck my head out in the hallway, but saw nothing. Maybe I was paranoid, but it seemed warranted. I called in to work, took the day off. I almost called the police, but the voice had said not to.

Listening to voices so early in the day . . . it had to be a Monday. I put on some coffee, I made myself some toast, and I waited.

And watched some talk shows. And waited.

And watched some soap operas. And waited.

And paced. And ignored calls from Jesse and Colton. And paced some more. And waited some more. Why wasn't this guy calling me back? Was it all some game?

When the nightly news came on, I grabbed my coat and phone and went for a walk. There was no change at Steven's; his car was still there, and when I went in, it didn't look like anyone had been inside. His phone had died though, so I plugged it in for him. Of such little kindnesses is true love made: charging phones, and rescuing from crazed kidnappers.

Now that would be a grand gesture. He couldn't stay mad when I managed to rescue him. He'd be so happy to see me, his white knight coming to the rescue, everything would be forgiven, and we'd get that happy-ever-after.

I was just debating locking up when my phone rang. “Hello?”

“Any word?” It was Dinah.

“No.”

“Are you going to the police?”

“Not yet. Maybe tomorrow.” If I couldn't tell the police, maybe I shouldn't tell friends either.

“Where are you? Want me to come over?”

“I'm at Steven's. I was thinking of spending the night here.”

“Awwww, that's cute. Call if you need to?”

“Will do.” I'd no sooner hung up when it rang again. “Hi Jesse,” I answered.

“Any news from your man?”

“Nothing.”

“Colton and I think it's time to call the cops.”

“I don't.”

“But Alex . . .”

“Look guys, I can't. Trust me.”

“Where are you right now?”

“At Steven's. I'm probably going to sleep over. In case he comes home.”

“Did you go to work today?”

“No, he said he'd call . . .” I caught myself, but too late.

“Who? Steven?”

“Forget I said anything.”

“What's going on, Alex?”

“Nothing, look, I gotta go.”

I hung up. I was more nervous than I was letting on. The voice on the intercom, the window, the phone call . . . someone was watching me, and who knew how? Could they bug a phone? That was crazy, but not as crazy as kidnapping my soon-to-be fiancé.

Was it for money? I didn't have any to speak of. My job was decent, but not ransom-good. Why hadn't he called back yet? He'd said he'd call. Why hadn't he called? Was Steven okay?

The phone rang. It was Colton. Okay, their concern was sweet but they needed to let it go. My hands were shaking as I let it go to voice mail.

“This is ridiculous, Alex,” I said aloud. “Call the police.” I looked at my phone and took a deep breath, and just as I pressed nine, it rang, and I dropped it. “Shit!” I went to pick it up, and kicked it with my foot. It slid under the couch. I bent down to grab it, and pulled out a wallet. Tossing the wallet on the coffee table, I reached again for my phone, but by the time I found it, the ringing had stopped.

“Shit!” What if that was him? The missed call was unknown! What if I'd missed him? What if he hurt Steven?

The doorbell rang at the same time as my voice mail tone chimed. I called in as I walked to the door.

“You're not taking my calls. That seems stupid,”
the message began. I peered through the window. It was a police officer.
“Do not go to the cops. Do not call them. Do not answer the door.”
My hand, reaching for the doorknob, paused.
“I will call back when they leave.”
This guy was watching me right now!

I froze against the wall. The doorbell rang again, followed by a knocking. I barely dared to breathe. I waited. After a minute of silence, I moved slowly so I could see through the window. The officer was walking down to his car. I waited to move again until he got in and drove away. The car had no sooner turned off Steven's street than the phone rang.

“I didn't do it!” I answered. “I didn't call them.”

“Lucky for you I believe you. This is the situation, Alex. I have something you want, you have something I want.”

“What? Anything!”

“Check the mailbox.”

I opened the door and reached into the mailbox. It was a flyer for Wonderland. “What is this?” I asked. “Some drag show? You kidnapped Steven to get me to go to a drag show?”

“Flip the paper, pretty boy.”

On the back it read “White Night Tuesday 10
P.M.
”

“What does that mean?”

But my phone was silent. What was going on now?