Page 13 of The Care of Broken Things
“Bullshit.”
They stared at each other. His hands were shaking again. They’d been shaking for a while, and he hadn’t realized in time to cover them.Shit. He needed the closet. “You’d better hurry. Visiting hours start soon.”
Eli didn’t move.
“If you’re late, your husband might wonder if you’ve already found yourself another piece of ass to tide you over.”
Eli said nothing.
He wanted to throw something. What was the man waiting for? Or was he just trying to psych him out?
“What?” he finally demanded, as obnoxiously as he could.
“I’m trying to think of what I can do to set you at ease around me, but I can’t think of anything.”
And he’d been worried it was something serious. “That’s right. There’s nothing. Now fuck off.”
Eli nodded, though he didn’t seem happy about it. “I’ll leave it to Nathaniel. He’s better at this than I am.”
“What? That’s not—no.”
But Eli was already waving goodbye. “I’ll tell him you said hi.”
Samuel growled and kicked at the wall. Then he went tofind the closet again.
Eli’s visit didn’t go well. He knew it because Mathews, who was supervising visitation that day, told him so. “It’s always weird when the big ones cry, like seeing a hot chick in a wheelchair.”
Almost every word that came out of Mathews’ mouth was offensive, but he was used to that. Eli crying? Not so much. He thought about approaching him but couldn’t think how to do it. Especially after telling him they weren’t friends and calling him a condescending prick. Still, he didn’t feel he could leave it at nothing. He tried to send Rat as an envoy.
“Want me to give him a hug while I’m at it?”
“No.” He didn’t wantanyonegiving Eli hugs. “Just tell him what I said. That first visits are always difficult, but they get better. It’s the shock the jumpsuit that does it, I think. And getting treated like a prisoner. It doesn’t seem real to visitors until that moment.”
“So you want me to say you’re worried about him.”
He shoved Rat out of the way and climbed up to his bed. “Forget it. Don’t say anything. You’ll just screw it up.”
Rat sighed. “It’s not like he wants to hear from me anyway, princess. It’s you he wants.”
He jammed his head onto his pillow and yanked his blanket up to his chin. There were still twenty minutes until lights out, but he was an expert at ignoring Rat. Besides, it wasn’t Rat he was worried about. He wanted to turn around and set his eyes on Eli’s bunk, still empty. The man was in the showers again. He took them twice a day when the staff would let him. “The only man more OCD than you,” was what Rat said the first time it happened.
I should have warned him,he thought,about how first visits are.
But he’d forgotten because he’d been too flustered. Even though his mind was constantly full of Eli, he wasn’treallythinking of him. Not in a way that helped.You see, Eli?I’m not really your friend after all.
Saturday’s breakfast was reconstituted eggs, cardboard pancakes, and a watery sugar syrup that was supposed to be maple. It was the best meal in prison, but he hardly tasted it. He was thinking of Eli, choking down sardines with a broken heart. The image was so terrible it made him push his tray away with only half his canned peaches eaten. He ran to the library, determined to brainstorm a way to fix it. Maybe he’d take the man down to laundry and teach him which machines to avoid. Or he could try to make something more edible out of the gluten-free shit. He’d already given the man one of his precious jars of Skippy’s the previous night. Maybe he’d give him the other as well. It wasn’t fair to hoard something like that when there was already so little the man could eat.
He was still drawing up a list of possibilities when there was a knock on the doorframe. “Fuck off, Rat. I’m in the middle of—oh. It’s you.”
“Disappointed?”
He didn’t understand. The smile Eli was wearing looked genuine.
“Didn’t you—aren’t you sad?”
“Sad?”
“Your visit. I heard it didn’t go well.”
