Page 26 of Fear
“So,” he said, bracing himself to ask even though he didn’t have a hope Tobias would answer, “when you were checking this out, did you find anything in Boulder you wanted to see?”
Tobias glanced over, head tilted down—from the glare, Jake told himself—and shrugged, an awkward twitch of his shoulders.
“Well,” Jake said, drawing his finger down from their block, “downtown’s here, but—let’s check that out some other time. There’s a few parks, and it’s a sweet day for a walk . . . I think this is the main one, Central Park. It’s a ways, though—you up to walking that far?”
Tobias nodded.
“You sure?”
Tobias nodded once more, and Jake wondered—but what were they going to do, turn back and stay inside all day? He had to take Tobias at his word or they’d never get anywhere. The best he could do was keep an eye on Tobias for any sign of exhaustion. Add that to the list.
They walked in silence for another block. Out of the corner of his eye, Jake watched Tobias focus on the pavement, placing his feet in an unwavering line, and despite Jake’s best intentions to back off and not breathe down his neck every minute, he couldn’t keep himself from pointing up, ready to grab any opportunity to get Tobias to look less damn stressed.
“Hey, check it out. Some idiot tossed their shoes up into that tree.”
Tobias’s eyes followed Jake’s finger to a pair of battered shoes, linked by their laces, looped over a tree branch. Then he stopped walking, and Jake stopped too.
Tobias’s lips parted, and his head tilted all the way back as he stared straight up. The reaction made Jake hold his breath for a moment, but Tobias didn’t look upset. On the contrary, this was open wonder, amazement on his face, and Jake didn’t think it was about a pair of stupid shoes.
He looked up again, trying to see what Tobias saw. There was just the tree—really tall, yeah, the lowest branch thick as his thigh and higher than he could reach, the whole thing vibrantly green and crawling in ivy, leaves rustling and swaying in the gentle breeze like the tree was talking to itself.
“It’s . . .” Tobias breathed, and Jake was amazed to see a real smile growing on his face, an honest-to-God smile. “It’s—” He still didn’t finish, like he didn’t have any words that fit. And for Jake—who had learned in the last few days how damn slow he could be—it finally clicked.
Freak Camp didn’t have any trees.
Blinking in a daze, like he’d just been clobbered over the head by an oak branch, Jake caught Tobias’s hand. Tobias squeezed back hard as he looked at Jake, turning that breathtaking, fragile smile on him.
“Well,” Jake said, keeping his voice normal with a valiant effort, though his cheeks felt awfully hot (July, of course), “sounds like the park was a pretty good idea, huh?”
After that, Tobias didn’t watch the sidewalk. He stared up at the trees, birds, and squirrels, breathless and awed in a good way, hanging tight to Jake’s hand. Jake couldn’t get enough of it; he felt light with relief. Finally, he’d done something right. There had been more than a few mishaps along the way—the traces of Tobias’s mostly healed scratches were plenty of a reminder for how delicate everything still was and how fast it could slide to hell. But right now, this was good. This was everything.
They paused at the next major intersection (no stoplights, just those funny roundabout things) for Jake to let go of Tobias’s hand and pull out the map, but before he could figure out how far they’d come, Tobias said, “Straight, five more blocks to Broadway.” Pausing, he added, “Unless you want to take 9th south, then there’s seven.” He flushed and looked down at his shoes.
Jake stared at the map, counting the blocks. “Holy shit, Tobias. When’d you . . . that’s a badass memory you’ve got.”
Tobias turned even more pink, not raising his face. Jake jostled his shoulder gently, and Tobias looked up at him. “I mean it,” he said, looking him in the eye. “That’s badass.”
Now looking like he had a serious sunburn, Tobias ducked his head, but close to Jake, brushing his forehead to Jake’s shoulder. That was more than okay, Jake decided. He stuffed the map in his back pocket, still smiling. “Looks like we won’t need this.”
The streets got busier, lined with shops instead of residential houses, as they got closer to downtown. People were out and about with Saturday shopping, and Tobias stayed closer to Jake’s side, but they were still okay. Jake decided on 9th Street as a better bet so they wouldn’t go through the heart of downtown.
It was a long walk, and by the time they got close to the park, Jake was fantasizing about refreshment stands with the intensity he usually reserved for a bath at the end of a long, gory hunt. Those slushy lemonade ones in particular came close to certain orgasms on a hot day. Fuck, he wanted one of those, or a snow cone, more than he wanted an ice-cold beer or a new handgun for Christmas. And he bet Tobias would like them too. At the least, they would be a cool, sugary treat after a hot walk, and who wouldn’t want that?
Jake had a vague memory of the park—he hadn’t, like, taken a stroll through it, more of a drive-by when he was cruising the area—but he remembered it being big and grassy, and he’d met more than one native Boulderian (or whatever they were called) who adored it. He figured if Tobias could be awestruck by one tree, he’d enjoy a whole bunch of them.
That was, of course, before he had learned to look at things the way Tobias saw them.
When the park came into sight, Jake’s first impression was not of the thick, sprawling trees, nor the open space of the lawn beyond, sloping down toward a man-made pond. His reaction was solely, Fuck, where did all these people come from? and then It’s a fucking Saturday, Jake Hawthorne, try remembering the days of the week sometime.
People were everywhere—biking and running along the trails, children racing with dogs over the lawns, couples stretched out on blankets under the trees. It was practically as crowded as a Friday night karaoke bar at happy hour.
They both stopped at the sight of the crowds, and for a moment Jake couldn’t to look at Tobias, dreading what he would see, at how colossal of a mistake he’d made. He braced himself, prepared to say they’d had enough of a walk and could turn back. But when he glanced at Tobias’s slightly paler face, his eyes were focused ahead intently, not on the ground. His left hand was clenched around his right, but he hadn’t frozen yet and didn’t look panicked.
Jake slid his hand in between Tobias’s, loosening them. Tobias’s eyes went to him, wide and startled, and Jake offered a tight smile. “You ready to head back? There were plenty of trees the way we came, and it was, y’know, less crowded.”
Tobias’s brow furrowed, and his eyes dropped to the pavement, but he just looked like he was thinking about it, not retreating inside himself. “This . . . this is the park?”
“Yep. Trees, grass . . . and people. Just civvies, families, out to catch some rays and play fetch with Fido or whatever. You know, whatever basic stuff normal people do.” Jake sighed. “We can always come back later, like Monday. It should be a lot emptier then.”
