A Night Like This

By Stephen Minchin




Alex walked quickly, his footsteps echoing on the narrow street. There was no traffic, no one else in sight as he crossed the road, but for some reason he always felt safe in the city at night. The dark alleys held nothing he hadn't seen before, the few people he'd meet weren't any worse than he would see in daylight.

No, it was the weather that really got to him. His hair was damp and his jeans clung to his legs, but he was warmer now that the rain had stopped and the wind had died. It was the kind of night that his mother wouldn't have let him go out in. You'd catch your death.

Despite the weather and the fact that Alex wore only a t-shirt, his first trick had somehow figured that his shivering was nerves, not the cold or the hours he'd spent standing on the street, not the time away from the angel.

"Are you new to this?" he'd asked, his breath a plume of white in the unlit alley. Alex could hear people walking past a few meters away, glimpse a face burnt streetlight yellow as a woman strolled past.

But he hadn't denied it, and even smiled as he unzipped the guy's jeans. Alex had learned a while ago to let them think whatever they wanted. Standing there in the dark it didn't matter whether he pictured Alex as a schoolkid or the neighbour's son.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and wrapped a fist around the roll of notes. There had been worse nights, but he'd hardly made his fortune in the past few hours and would have to come out again in a couple of days. The angel would soak up most of tonight's money, but there might be enough left over to pay the rent.

It was on a night like this that he had first met the angel. That was almost a year ago now and like so many others, the memories of that night had faded to a trace of smiles and tears, and the rain washing his face. Introduced by a friend, another rent-boy now departed, he and the angel had instantly clicked, become inseparable before Alex had even realised what was happening. Looking back, he wouldn't want it any other way.

A flash of headlights cut across the shopfront in front of him, and he glanced over his shoulder. It was nothing, just another taxi ferrying the punters home, a guy and girl slumped semi-conscious in the back seat as the driver took them on a winding tour of the city. Alex caught a flash of the girl's profile before the car disappeared and left a tail of mist hanging in the cold air, a glimpse of a rainbow in a brightly lit doorway.

Something about the girl, the light on her cheek or the curve of her chin, reminded him of Jenny. Chances were she'd be curled up on the sofa right now, watching a video with the cat. She always stayed up when he went out, said she couldn't sleep until he got back safely. There was nothing for her to worry about, he'd tried to convince her of that, but there was something reassuringly normal about knowing that she'd be there when he returned.

She had been awake that first night that he brought the angel home. Alex had been nervous, wondering what she would say, and as he shut the door behind them he heard the TV in the lounge, heard her laughing, he almost decided against it. They had only been living together for a few months, only known each other for a week more than that, but the two of them had promised forever. That was the important part, wasn't it? The promise? And after meeting her on the street one night, maybe it was appropriate that he bring the angel, another denizen of that same life.

She couldn't have expected it, but she didn't look surprised and simply welcomed it, just as he had. And the angel had embraced them both.

It added to them, complemented them, filling any cracks that opened in their lives and joining them more tightly together. Whenever they argued the angel was there to calm them and make everything better. Knowing that Jenny waited for him at home had made his work bearable, but the angel did more than that - the nights had become worthwhile.

The second job tonight had been a weirdo. Trench coat wearing and shifty eyed, he was the kind of guy Alex would've avoided if it had been a busier night, if he didn't need the money. When it came down to it a job was a job, and who gave a damn what the guy looked like? A few minutes later he watched the him head towards the centre of town, and wondered where he was going. If he was going home; who he was going home to.

Jenny spent most of her time at the flat, now. She played with the cat, chasing catnip mice across the floor as the angel watched, laughing. They watched videos and listened to music, did everything together while Alex worked. Sometimes it hurt to come home and see them lying on the floor, eyes slipping shut after an evening without him and he would smile and try to be pleased for Jenny, pleased that she was happy at last. She had needed a friend, maybe it simply needed one too.

Rounding a corner, Alex saw a half-dozen guys standing outside the 24 hour takeaway on the opposite side of the road. He walked quickly, head down, and listened to them sharing stories about the girls they had scored and the ones that had been eyeing them up all night. A couple of weeks ago, he had been walking past here and a group of guys had followed him, taunting him. Nothing had come of it, nothing ever did, but tonight he couldn't be bothered putting up with that. Home was only a few blocks away.

Alex, Jenny, and now the angel. The three of them had become so close, so quickly, that it almost seemed like a dream. What had he done before he met them? It hardly mattered now. They were together almost all the time, the one thing they didn't share was his time on the streets, and he hated not being with them then. To be away from his two loves was almost too much.

It began to spit as he turned up his street, a rising patter like a drum-roll until the rain came down in a deluge of tears. In a few seconds the gutters were full and sheets of water slid across the road. Somewhere nearby a car alarm started to wail, and all around him the iron roofs were battered. Yes, mother, out on a night like this.

It was pointless to hurry, he was drenched in an instant, and so he walked and watched the play of streetlight on the raindrops. A slick of oil across a puddle, shining blue and silver. The yellow halo hanging, shimmering, around the light by his own front door.

He pulled his keys out and slipped one into the lock, stepping inside into the warmth of the hallway. The floor was massaged by the gentle beat of music, slow and smooth, and as he kicked his shoes into the corner and squeezed the water from his hair he smiled. Alex opened the door to the lounge, and the world stopped.

Jenny was lying on the floor with the angel crouched over her, its skin white as bone and gleaming under the bare light-bulb which hung overhead. They were a few feet from the TV as a music video played but neither was listening, neither watching.

Her face was almost as pale as that of the creature hovering above. She lay on her back and stared up at the ceiling, her skin waxy and loose as though she had a fever, and although her eyes were wide open Alex could see that they were lifeless, dry. The only movement was the angel as it leaned forward to lick her neck, its long, white tongue stroking her skin before it looked up, and smiled.

Alex fell forward and crouched beside them, and he could feel the angel watching him. As soon as he touched her skin, felt the cold, he knew that she had died hours earlier. There was nothing he could do now, probably nothing he could have done even if he had been home. She had a thin trickle of dried blood running down her arm. The tourniquet was still wrapped loosely around her bicep. At least she had died happy, and not alone.

He looked up from her and into the angel's eyes. It looked almost as though it was about to cry, its face blank but the eyes choked with loss. Alex could see his silhouette reflected in its pupils and wondered if he looked the same, the two of them mirrors of each other's grief. Slowly, it layed a hand on his shoulder, and he could feel the heat of its touch.

He reached up and took the hand, held it in his own as he stood. The angel rose to stand beside him, and Alex led it out into the hallway, towards the bedroom.

The End

Copyright © 2002 by Stephen Minchin

Bio:Stephen Minchin is a student in New Zealand.

E-mail: godgod@hotmail.com

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