Jude

Somewhere in another time

I got out of the way just in time. On my knees, I looked up as a moving object barreled toward me. As a car honked, I jumped to my feet and bolted down the road. My broken toe slowed me down, so my bolt wasn't much of a bolt. I was a moving target. People on the sidelines yelled and booed, throwing rocks at me. As I limped on the side of the road, women covered their children's eyes. There weren't many cars on the road. The few I noticed reminded me of the antique cars I drove at Canobie Lake Park, an amusement park in New Hampshire. It was only a matter of time before someone caught me, determined to do something about my obscene nudity.

Minutes ago, I fell asleep in Percy's arms. Now I was awake with a police officer gripping my bare arm as my body trembled in the cold.

"Got ya, ya filthy pervert," the officer said. Dressed in a police uniform from a different time, he spoke with a slight Irish accent, holding a billy club with one hand. I closed my eyes, ready for a whack.

I didn't put up a fight, bracing myself. Although I looked like a complete lunatic, the officer didn't whack me. Instead, he cuffed my arms behind my back and dragged me down the road. Women averted their gaze and shielded their children's eyes as I made my way to the wagon. I didn't care where he took me as long as someone gave me a blanket or clothes to wear.

"No good Italian," he muttered, hauling me into the paddy wagon. I concluded I was in Boston, circa 1900-1920. The Irish and Italians didn't get along between 1900 and 1920. Something about me must have reminded him of an Italian man. I doubted there were any half white/half Cambodian people in the United States at this time. I'd heard about the influx of Chinese, but that was about it. It must have been my dark hair and eyes. The officer tossed me into the back of the wagon with the other alleged criminals.

The wagon reeked of piss, beer, and tobacco. I was one of five in the wagon. The other four glared and snarled at me. If they weren't all cuffed, I bet they'd attack me. A scratchy, wool blanket hit me in the face before the wagon doors closed.

"What year is it?" I asked the man beside me. Dried blood caked his nose, his lower lip bruised and swollen. I bet he was in a drunken fight. "I've been drunk for the past week."

"1912, ya drunken fool," he replied.

"Oh... did the Titanic sink yet?" I laughed at myself, bursting into a fit of giggles. The man beside me elbowed me hard in my ribs. The man across from me spit at me, getting me in my face. I didn't want to die today, yet I acted like I had a death wish. I bet the Titanic hadn't sunk yet, because it felt like February instead of April.

"What the hell ya talkin' about? Shut up or I'll make ya shut up. You belong in an asylum. I hope that's where they send ya."

For the rest of the ride, I kept my mouth shut, keeping my head down and my eyes on the floor. It was best not to make eye contact.

At the station, officers hosed us down and de-loused us with a white powder. I was already freezing and the water from the hose just made me colder. It was humiliating and degrading to be hosed down with a handful of other men, but I'd been through worse. After they sanitized us, they gave us black and white striped prison uniforms. It was like something out of a movie. I was thrown in a jail cell with all the others. With any luck, I'd fall asleep before facing a judge for an arraignment. There was no place to sit, and the prisoners all looked at me like they wanted to kill me. Most of them, as usual, were bigger than me. If I had nowhere to sit, then I wouldn't be able to fall asleep.

"This one's a pervert," a man grumbled, shoving me against the metal bars. It wasn't my first time someone called me a pervert. It wasn't my fault I landed as naked as the day I was born. As he lunged toward me, I blocked him, punching him in the face. Suddenly, chaos erupted around me as a brawl broke out, with me right in the middle. A part of me wished they'd just kill me, but I was a survivor and a fighter. It was five against one. There was no way I'd win.

But I didn't die.

The second I opened my eyes, I knew I wasn't dead. I was no longer on the cold concrete floor of the jail with five men kicking and pounding me. As I stretched, I accidentally rolled off the couch, landing hard on the floor. I rubbed my jaw where a guy struck me. My head was pounding, and my body ached like it often did after a trip. Disoriented more than usual, I staggered to my feet and wandered off. I eventually found the bathroom and clutched the sink, staring at the broken man in the mirror. That man disgusted me.

The fight left me with a swollen cheek, bleeding lip, and puffy eyes. Before I passed out, I plopped down on the toilet. A shadow loomed in the doorway, but I didn't move or acknowledge the person.

"Jude?"

I looked up, not sure if the handsome man was real. I always woke up alone in an empty apartment, so I didn't expect to see anyone in my apartment. "What year is it?" I asked.

"2024," Percy replied.

All color had drained from his face. Percy saw more than anyone else had ever seen. In fact, no one had ever seen me travel before. I wondered what it looked like, me vanishing into thin air. I had no idea how it happened, but one moment I was asleep and the next I found myself in another place and time. It wasn't a dream.

"Did you see leave?" I asked, slouched on the toilet, light-headed and dizzy, like I was about to faint.

"Yes," he said, swallowing hard. "Are you a magician?"

Hunched over, I shook my head. Before I fell off the toilet, Percy rushed to me and sat me upright. Crouching in front of me, he held my shoulders. "If you're not a magician, how did you do that?"

"I don't know. That's the problem. I can't stop it."

"You were lying on the couch... asleep... and you faded away. You disappeared. Where'd you go?"

"Boston...1912."

He sat on the floor, leaning against the bathtub. As he chewed on his bottom lip, he brought his knees to his chest. I'd seen that look before.

"I don't feel good." I finally tumbled off the toilet. Percy caught me just in time. He lowered me to the floor and held my head in his lap.

"What happened to you?" he asked, combing his fingers through my hair.

"I got the shit beaten out of me. What's it look like? How long have I been asleep?"

"Ten hours. I wasn't hallucinating, was I?"

"Nope."

"You need more than therapy."

As I started to laugh, I groaned, holding my side. I just realized I was still naked, but not as cold as I normally was; maybe that had something to do with the fact my head was in Percy's lap. His body radiated heat. "I'm glad you're here, Alonzo."

"I wish I never told you my name. Maybe I should take you to the hospital," he said.

"I can't afford to go to the hospital. I'll be okay," I said. "You hungry? I'm starving. Wanna get something to eat?"

"I think you should clean yourself up first and rest awhile."

Slowly, I sat up, agreeing with Percy. He held my waist, helping me into the shower. He was always such a kind, caring person. I bet he'd make a great clinical social worker someday. While most people shunned or arrested me, he helped me. He'd given me clothes and shelter. Even when he told me to 'get away from him' all those times, he caved. As the warm water beat down on me, he stayed in the bathroom, right outside the shower in case I needed him.

"This feels like déjà vu," he said.

"You know me, Alonzo." I opened the shower curtain to see his reaction. "Don't you remember when you told me your real name?" He stared blankly at me, a film of water across his pupils. "No one ever wanted me as much as you did."

"But you didn't want me," he said and turned to leave.

I reached for a towel as he walked out of the bathroom. With my towel around my waist and my hair still dripping, I found Percy on my couch, paper and notebooks scattered all over the coffee table. While I was gone, Percy ransacked my apartment trying to make sense of it all.

As I approached him, I noticed tears on his cheeks. He quickly brushed them away the closer I got to him. "I feel like I should go home," he said, his voice quivering. "But I don't feel right leaving you. I wanna help you."

"Yeah," I said, sitting beside him. "You always wanted to help me. By the way, I wanted you in the worst way, so it's not like I didn't want you. I almost gave in, didn't I?"

He shrugged, his eyes focused on all the crap on the table.

"Did you find what you were looking for ?" I asked. "Because I haven't."

"No," he said quietly. "But you're a pretty good writer."

"I told you I kept journals. I planned on showing you, but you canceled our appointment."

"I was looking for medical records."

"If you find them, let me know. I have a police report from the day of the accident, though."

"You do? Where?"

"On top of the refrigerator," I said, getting up to retrieve it. I sat beside him again and handed him the report. "I've done some investigating, but I haven't gotten very far. A fresh set of eyes can't hurt."

He examined the police report, a document I'd reviewed a million times. Percy was a lawyer and a lot smarter than I was, so I hoped he'd figure some things out. I just wanted to find the doctor who did this to me.

"We were in bed," Percy said, his eyes on the police report and not on me. "In my bed... you felt so good... you always felt good, but... but maybe I was stupid and desperate, but I thought you'd stick around this last time. It's been around six years, right?"

"To you... yes."

"We were talking about our heritage. You barely knew your dad, but you knew a lot about Cambodian customs. It was cool listening to you because you were so into it. I talked about my grandfather, Alonzo, from Germany. I was named after my grandfather. Alonzo sounds like an Italian name, but it's actually German. I loved being with you, Jude... talking to you, touching you, kissing you. When I was around you, I wasn't scared."

"What were you afraid of?"

With more tears in his eyes, he looked up at me. "Everything." 

Words: 1884

Total Words: 9584