Page 36 of Spread Your Wings
“Prove it.”
Sammy laughed. “I came first.”
Mustafa frowned. “Of course, you did. You think I’d come and leave you hanging?”
Sammy shook his head. “You’re the first who hasn’t.”
“You’ve been fucking the wrong people.”
“Understatement of the year.”
Mustafa looked sad as he rolled off Sammy, holding the condom.
“What’s wrong?”
Mustafa shook his head. “Not tonight. Nothing is wrong tonight.”
Sammy frowned, but he didn’t pry. Something weighed heavily on Mustafa’s mind as they got ready for bed. They cleaned up and dressed in their pajamas. Despite Sammy’s wish for round two, he could tell Mustafa’s heart wasn’t in it. They climbed into bed on opposite sides, meeting in the middle, but Sammy felt like they were worlds apart.
CHAPTER TEN
The next morning after breakfast at Cozy’s, they walked back to the Hyde Park tube station. “Let’s go see Freddie,” Sammy said. He’d always wanted to see Garden Lodge. Now, it seemed imperative, especially after the magical concert.
They walked north and east of the Earl’s Court station, following directions Sammy had gotten from the hotel’s front desk. He’d chatted up a bellboy while Mustafa had signed for his legal documents, delivered by courier. The bellboy was also a Queen fan and questioned him endlessly about the concert. Once Sammy had started talking, he couldn’t stop. The set list. The guest artists. The celebratory atmosphere. Each memory had spawned a new one until Mustafa had to drag him away with an apology.
As they strolled through Kensington, though, a heavy silence settled over them. Freddie had walked these streets, too, after all. Freddie may have even taken a stroll on a Tuesday morning, much like this one. Sammy imagined crossing his path.
When they arrived at 1 Logan Place, the six-and-a-half-foot brick garden wall overflowed with pictures, postcards, and letters. So many had come before them to pay tribute to Freddie. The wall was spray-painted with messages to Freddie in rainbowcolors. The sight reminded Sammy of the Berlin Wall. The wall was topped with a four-foot metal grating for privacy. The smell of fresh-cut grass wafted to them on the street. Life went on beyond the garden wall, even though Freddie was no longer there. The thought stung his eyes and had him gripping for the letter in his coat pocket.
Sammy didn’t have a way to attach the letter to the wall. He tucked it under the corner of another letter already pinned there. He’d penned it before dawn, while Mustafa was still asleep.
Dear Freddie,
Your tribute concert was amazing, but it wasn’t the same without you.
He’d said more, but he couldn’t remember it now. It had seemed important to share his story with Freddie. Here, among the letters from so many other fans, his letter seemed insignificant. He’d ended with:The world misses and mourns you still. You are an inspiration to men who love men everywhere. Thank you. SC.
Sammy couldn’t bring himself to sign his name. He was glad he’d left it folded up, so Mustafa wouldn’t read it.
He stepped back, and Mustafa smoothed his letter against the wall, pen in hand. “Do you mind?”
“No. Go for it.”
Mustafa wrote on the back of Sammy’s folded letter, still attached to the wall. He used Latin script, but Sammy didn’t understand the words.
“What does it say?” he asked when Mustafa finished.
“Goodbye and thank you for making the world a better place.”
Sammy nodded. His throat ached and his eyes blurred with unshed tears.
As much as Sammy wanted to stay and read the open letters, his eyes wouldn’t focus. This place, this wall, seemed too much like a tomb. They returned to Hyde park, instead. They walked shoulder-to-shoulder through the green lawns and budding trees until ten.
Then, it was time to check out of the hotel and grab a quick bite to eat from a deli near the tube entrance. From there, they headed to the airport.
Sammy felt weird to be going home. His entire world had changed in the past three months, and he’d learned a lot about what he didn’t want to do with his life. He still didn’t feel adult enough to return home and face his mother.
They had the left side of the economy row to themselves. Sammy had the window, and Mustafa had the aisle. The five women in the middle row were drunk and loud. The one on the aisle gave them a cursory once-over when she first took her seat and then ignored them.
