Page 57 of Torch Songs

“Aw, Guthrie—”

Guthrie shook his head and tried to let go of Tad’s hand, but Tad wasn’t having it.

“Drop the side rail,” he ordered. “I know you can figure it out.”

The sound continued while Guthrie obeyed him, and Tad cursed hospital rooms and awkwardness and gun-shy lovers until the thing was down and Tad could order him to bring the chair closer.

Guthrie’s tear-streaked face was finally close enough for Tad to cup his cheek.

“Baby,” Tad breathed.

“I’m stupid, and you should ignore me,” Guthrie told him, brows drawn down. “It’s just, you know, been a day. And….”

“And you thought I was going to die,” Tad said, getting it.

Guthrie shook his head. “It would figure, right? I finally find someone good? It felt like I’d doomed you.” He gave a half laugh that sputtered tears, and Tad rubbed under Guthrie’s eyes with his thumb.

“I didn’t mean to joke about it,” Tad whispered.

“No, you did. And it was funny.” Guthrie nodded, so earnestly that Tad found himself smiling. “It’s just… damn, son. It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you too.” And because Guthrie had cried first, had been vulnerable and in pain, Tad let some of his own fear show through. “I….” His voice caught. “I almost cried when I saw the hoodie, you know. And when you started to play? God, Guthrie. You saved my life just by letting me know you were there. You saved all of us. We… we had theworstfuckin’ night. And suddenly there was this song, and it was so sweet. And the night didn’t feel so big and black anymore, and home didn’t feel so far away.” He took a shuddery breath, aware his own dam had burst, his own tears were falling.

“There was nothing I could do,” Guthrie whispered. “You were okay, and I was going to see you, and then… God, you dropped through a hole in the world?” He glared at Tad through the tears. “How could you drop through a hole in the world? That’s not right!”

Tad laughed a little. “Well, I was lucky, you know—”

“Oh I know,” Guthrie said, his eyes shifting wildly. “If you had to drop through a hole in the world, you ended up doing it with, what? Dad gods? Is that what you found? Dad gods of backcountry California?”

Tad laughed a little harder. “Yes!” he said, hysterical. “Oh my God,yes.”

“Did you know there were aerial photos of the damned pulley system? How much paracord did that take, by the way? I need a minimum amount to fuckin’ stock.”

“You’re killing me,” Tad wheezed, still laughing. “And you’ll have to ask Larx. I guess it was his idea. I… from what I can gather, Aaron slithered down the damned canyon to get him after the SUV rolled, and Larx was lying there, his brains practically leaking out his ears, telling Aaron how they were going to get the supplies and themselves up the hill. I mean?” He pulled in a shuddery breath and sobered. “—they kept me alive. They… they could have stayed down there and left me and the MacDonald kid to die, but they didn’t. They came all the way back up for us.” He dragged his fingers through the mess of Guthrie’s long hair, thinking this man needed cozening. He needed a hot shower and some soup and some kindness, and Tad could literally not even sit on his own ass. “They did all that with the pulleys and shit to keep me and that poor kid under the tree alive. Guthrie, I swear, between you and them and Chris, who was apparently moving hell and earth to find the people who’d been shooting at us, it was, like, a day for heroes.”

Guthrie grunted. “Don’t forget the teachers and teenagers, buddy,” his said, settling down a little. “I mean, you fell down amagichole in the earth, that is for certain.”

Tad settled too, remembering a moment when he and Larx and Aaron had been huddled on the hill. Larx’s daughter, prettyas a pixie princess, had appeared over their heads, floating on a contraption straight from the high school stage.

“Magic humans,” he said, echoing Larx. “We found magic humans.”

“You did,” Guthrie said softly. His eyes sobered. “Listen, if you get a chance to get April here? With these magic humans? You’ve got to do it, okay?”

And Tad felt the sting of rejection deep in his gut. “But you and me—”

Guthrie shook his head. “I didn’t say that was the end of us,” he muttered, and this time he soothed Tad with a touch to the face. “I’m saying you and me will be you and me. But you and your sister deserve all the magic humans you can get in your life. Do you understand?”

Tad nodded. “But right now, I’ll be glad there’s you and me. Are you glad, Guthrie? That there’s an us?”

“You have no idea,” he whispered. He pulled back and wiped his face on his shoulder before resting his chin on the bed again so they were face-to-face. “You… you give me a whole new faith.”

Tad smiled, suddenly exhausted and drifty and floaty again. “Good,” he slurred. “Keep believing.”

And he fell asleep again.

WHEN HEwoke up, he peered around blearily and saw Guthrie sitting cross-legged in the back corner of the room, eyes closed in sleep, the sweatshirt he’d put over Tad’s shoulders back around his own.

“Don’t get too excited,” said a man’s voice. “April’s going to come in and say good night, and then Livvy and I are taking thembothhome.”

---