YELLOWJACKET - CH.13: DOWNPOUR
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With the chemical accident behind me, all I could think about now was finding Raja.
I never really considered myself prone to obsession, but since Iâd recovered, it was as if a switch was flipped within me. I didnât care how unrealistic it was to hope that lightning might strike me twice; if there was any possibility that he was in Dallas, I had to try. Iâd never forgive myself if I didnât.
What made things worse was that despite the fact that I was now taking every pill Dr. Oh pushed on me, I was still plagued by nightmares. Now I was learning the hard way that there was no relief to be found at the bottom of bottles - even non-alcoholic ones.
Thereâs nothing those doctors can give that can fix whatâs wrong with you, mijo, I heard my mother say. Youâre simply too weak.
As much as I resented it, she had a point. Maybe I was more like my dad than I thought, a wild card meant to live on the fringes of society. Would I eventually join him in disappearing into the Chihuahuan desert, gone forever without so much as a single goodbye? Some days, it seemed like the right idea.
That evening, rain came down in violent sheets as I parked my truck near South St. Paul street. By now, the sun was setting later and later, so there was still enough light for me to see the people around me as they navigated the rainy sidewalks. The headlights and street lamps lit up the puddles on the road so brightly, they hurt to look at.
Unbuckling my seat belt, I settled in for a long night of waiting. Though Iâd given up on God a long time ago, I found myself praying to Him anyway: Padre nuestro, que estĂĄs en el cielo⊠please, let me find him. Or at least grant me the serenity to move on.
While mindlessly scanning radio stations, I couldnât shake how crazy I felt. Had I really seen Raja that day, or had I only seen what I wanted to see? Since then, wherever I went, he was in everyone I saw: funny little birthmarks; the light in peopleâs eyes; smiles so contagious that you couldnât help but smile, too.
Strange as it mightâve been, I hoped, for his sake, that it was a case of mistaken identity. The idea of him being lost to the streets of Dallas was sorely depressing, especially when Iâd been living in Dallas since I left the service. Iâd be kicking myself for years if I knew he was here this whole time, struggling out here when he didnât have to.
The coffee Iâd ordered from Dunkinâ Donuts sat in the cup holder for so long, it had cooled off into undrinkable sludge. Rather than drink it, I poured it out of my window and watched the rain wash it away in just a few seconds. By the time I was done staring absentmindedly at it, I looked up and saw a trio of men walking down the street towards my truck. Without any care for the weather, they stopped to talk amongst themselves.
One of the men was short and fat like a brick, and the other man appeared quite sick, creepy and thin like a cellar spider. The third man, the tallest man, had caught my attention the most.
I leaned forward in my seat. My heart revved like an engine.
Rather than take off after him, I got out of my truck as inconspicuous as possible; though my intentions were good, approaching them like this made me feel sinister. But I just had to know, had to see if it was him, had to be sure.
If itâs not him, Iâll just keep it moving, I told myself. If itâs not him, heâs not in Dallas. If itâs not him, heâs gone. For good.
My heart beat so loudly, I could hardly hear the rain hitting the pavement or the cars splashing through the water on the road. As I drew closer, their conversation became more hushed, as if they thought I was eavesdropping.
I wasnât sure how I was even going to do this, but I had no time to figure it out: when I got within just a few feet of them, they all turned to acknowledge me. From under a curtain of shaggy hair, I saw those dark, dark, eyes. My breath caught in my throat.
I felt just as I had at the camp fire, too stunned to speak, but this time it wasnât simply shock that paralyzed me - it was also relief.
When Rajaâs gaze met mine, that same panic from before flashed across his face, but rather than bolt off immediately, he stood frozen in fear. I couldnât bear to botch it this time, so I took a deep breath, trying to play it cool.
âEvening, gentlemen,â I said, waving amicably to hopefully disarm the tension. âHow yâall doing?â
The sickly man had more holes in his shirt than teeth in his head, but despite looking like a corpse, he moved protectively to put space between me and Raja. âThe fuck you want?â Spit flew from his mouth as he spoke. âYou some kind of cop?â
Hoping to avoid being shanked by a junkie, I shook my head quickly. âNo! Iâm not a cop! Really!â
âYou hearing this guy?â He turned to look at Raja, who was trying not to look at me. âLike we havenât seen him sitting around in that big ass truck watching us? Fuckinâ hate you plainclothes assholes the most.â
âPiss off, douchebag,â said the short man. âWe ainât loitering, so get lost. You donât got a thing on us.â
I sighed in frustration. âI just said Iâm notââ
âYou deaf, too?â The sickly man lurched at me threateningly. âGo!â
âGuys, stop it!â Raja growled suddenly. âHeâs not a cop, okay? I know he isnât.â
The short man gawked. âWait, Raj, you know him?â
Heaving a sigh, Raja finally mustered up the courage to look me in the eye. âI do.â
The other men turned to face me; to show that I meant peace, I raised my hands in an act of surrender. They glanced at one another uneasily, but they made no further threats in my direction, so it was progress.
Now that I was finally getting a chance to look at Raja more closely, it hurt to see him in such a state. Even in the rain, I could tell that his hair was slick with grease, and his dense beard obscured the angles of his cheekbones. He wore the same Dallas Cowboys hoodie Iâd seen him in before, mottled with stains along the sleeves, and his shoes were only a few steps away from falling apart completely.
But his eyes were the same. Even after his hardships, there was just the slightest light left in them.
No idea how my silence came across to the other men, but it definitely made Raja uncomfortable. I cleared my throat to apologize, but before I could, Raja cleared his own.
âWhat are you doing here, Manny?â He looked down at me coldly. Somehow, Iâd forgotten just how tall he was.
âThis is that Manny guy?â said the short man. His focus swiveled from Raja to me, his gaze oddly intrusive. âHuh⊠goofy lookinâ fuck, ainât you? You sure got a hell of a nose on you.â
âNice friends you got there,â I said to Raja flatly. âLook, I just want to talk. Thatâs all. Can we? Please?â
Rajaâs hesitance was obvious, making his friends resistant to giving us privacy. But he nodded, and the two men - trading another uneasy look between each other - skulked off further down the sidewalk. That they didnât let us out of their sight as they departed was strangely nerve-wracking.
Once they were far enough away, I turned back to Raja. He crossed his arms against his chest, chewing on his thumbnail as if trying to distract himself from my stare.
âRaj, whatâs with you?â I asked. âI donât see or hear from you forâ for years and years, and the first time we see each other again, you freak out like Iâm hunting you! What gives?â
Raja said nothing.
âIâ I just canât believe youâve been in Dallas this whole time, right under my nose!â My hands turned to fists in my rage and confusion. âAll this time youâve been hereâ you knew I was here too, didnât you? You knew I was going back to Dallas once my contract was upâ thereâs no way you didnât know how to find me, and you just⊠you didnât. Why?â
Still, he said nothing. Instead, he kept chewing on his thumbnail.
âFucking shit, I spent years wondering what happened to you! Years of never knowing if you were dead, or alive, orâ whatever mightâve happened, I donât know!â I couldnât contain myself, my throat tightening. âFirst I lost Feliz and, and this whole time, I thought I lost you, too. Why? Why didnât you look for me?â
Rajaâs shoulders slumped forward. I wondered if heâd bite his nails to the point where heâd start bleeding. I wanted to tear his hands away and make him answer me, but though his silence pissed me off, I couldnât shake just how glad I was to see him, even underneath the anger. I swallowed thickly, trying to steady myself.
âDo you know how much Iâve missed you?â I whispered.
When he finally stopped avoiding my eyes, it was clear that Raja regretted letting me stay and say my piece. I didnât think this was going to go well, but seeing how shitty it was turning out made me feel even dumber than Iâd felt before. I was just a big fucking idiot, getting soaked to the bone trying to reason with a ghost from my past that wanted nothing to do with me. No wonder I was in therapy.
Please, just say something, I begged in my mind, but he simply stared. Anything at all. Please.
The rain around us continued to beat down on our heads. At last, breathing in deeply, Rajaâs brows slanted downward. He drew his nails away from his face to cross his arms against his chest and glared at me bitterly. âWhat the fuck is wrong with you?â
I stared at him. âWhat?â
âYou missed me? How could you possibly miss me? Are you fucking insane?!â He exploded. His hands seized into fists as his arms flew away from his chest. âHow could you want anything to do with me?! After what I did to Feliz?â
âWhââ My head felt like it was spinning. âRaj, what the hell are you talking about?â
Raja grabbed his face, arms shaking as he dragged his fingers down his cheeks. When he pulled them back, his eyes were wide with pain. âWhy donât you fucking hate me?!â He shouted. âWhy?! After everything, why?!â
As I stared at him in confusion, Rajaâs anger simmered down as he brushed his wet, dirty hair back over his forehead. The center of his brows wrinkled as deep remorse overtook his features. âEveryone else hates me for what happened, and they should,â he said solemnly. âSo I donât know why you donât. If anything⊠you of all people should hate me the most.â
âIâ no, Iâ I donât hate you.â My heart crawled up into my throat; keeping my voice steady was a lost cause. âI could never hate you.â
In shock, Rajaâs lip quivered. The rain continued hitting the pavement with a pitter-patter, soaking through my jacket and into my shirt. I couldnât have cared less.
âWhen I saw you at that camp fire⊠I wanted to say something, butâ you left before I could, and for these past few weeks, Iâve been looking all over for you,â I continued, even as my lungs shook in my chest. âAll these years, man⊠all I wanted was to know you were still out there.â
Raja could barely stand to return my gaze, turning away to look out at the street as the sun began to set. If he was crying, I couldnât tell, the rain had soaked him so completely. When I stepped forward, he retracted inward, like he was infected with something he didnât want to spread.
âRaj,â I said. âWhy did you run from me?â
ââCause itâs hard just to fucking look at you,â he replied, his voice weak. âJustâ seeing you after all this time⊠everything came flooding back.â
Gun shots.
âAnd I couldnât handle it.â
Like a mirageâŠ
âSo Iâ I had to run away, like I always fucking do.â
Leave me.
âLike Iâve been doing for the past ten years.â
Humiliated, Raja covered his face, moving to turn his back to me. Without thinking, I grabbed his shoulders and turned him back around, taking him into my arms. Holding on to him in that moment felt like catching on to a life raft after years of being adrift at sea.
âPlease donât run from me anymore,â I pleaded, resting my head against him. âPlease.â
It was as if a dam had burst. The tension in Rajaâs body gave way, and he wrapped his arms around me in return. We likely looked insane to the passerby, but it didnât matter. None of them knew a damn thing. I wrapped my arms around him so tightly, I expected him to complain, but he didnât.
Instead, his body began to shake. There was an unsteadiness in the knee heâd been shot in, as if he wasnât used to standing on it for so long. Against my shoulder, he began to cry.
âManny⊠Iâm so fucking sorry,â he said softly. âYou shouldnât even be here.â
âNo,â I replied. âIâm right where I need to be.â
  
It took a lot of convincing, but when faced with the prospect of spending a night sleeping in the rain, Raja let me take him home - if only for tonight. I knew it was asking a lot of him, but I couldnât stand the idea of him languishing in the rain for another night. Not if I had any say in it.
I couldnât get past how much it reminded me of capturing a stray animal - in fact, I still had scars from rescuing a cat for Cleo when she was little - but unlike a cat, Raja could be reasoned with and didnât seem interested in scratching my eyes out.
The drive over was like a dream sequence, it felt so unreal. I didnât want to overwhelm Raja by talking to him like we were just casually catching up, so I decided to let him take the lead if he had questions to ask; yet he kept so quiet, there were moments where I thought he fell asleep.
Upon entering my apartment, Raja squinted at the bright lights overhead, and his eyes roamed skittishly across my floors. Before he could step any further, I pointed to his muddy sneakers, gesturing for him to take them off. Bashfully, he took them off without argument and tucked them as close to the door as he could.
âMi casa es tu casa.â I swept my arm in front of myself to welcome him in. âYou still know what that one means, right?â
Raja rubbed his nose thoughtfully. âYour house is my house?â
âVery good.â I patted him on the shoulder. âOr should I say muy bien? â
For the first time, Raja smiled, but it was hard to read much of his face when his hair was still slick to his skin from the rain. Under the light, it was obvious how dirty he was, so I pointed to a door off to the side. âOver thereâs the bathroom,â I said. âGo wash up, all that rain got you lookinâ like a wet dog. Smelling like one, too.â
âWell, I donât really have any other clothesâŠâ He clutched his backpack to the front of him. âAll Iâve got in here is, like, a shirt and some boxers. These are my only pants.â
âThereâs a load of clean clothes already in a hamper, I just havenât put them away yet.â I pointed further in through the doorway. âYou can borrow some, though Iâd appreciate it if you didnât borrow my underwear. No offense.â
Raja seemed grateful, guilty and suspicious all at the same time, staring like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. âWhy are you being so nice to me?â
ââCause even after all these years, youâre still my friend,â I replied sincerely. âNow, before you start thinking of me as a charity, I donât really make a habit of bringing bums home, so Iâm afraid the offer of clothes and a spot on my couch applies only to you and not your⊠friends.â
âTheyâre not really my friends.â He stopped to wiggle out of his hoodie, which was nearly painted on at this point. âWell, Oscarâs kind of a friend, but only because he just got back out of rehab. The second he gets back on the fent, heâll be a real asshole again. Zeke can fuck off, thoughâ I only hang out with him âcause I shared a tent with him and his girlfriend for a while.â
I raised an eyebrow. âWow. Itâs a hobo soap opera out there, huh?â
âYep.â Raja let out an exasperated sigh. âYou donât know the half of it.â
âYou can tell me later. Now go on and get, you ainât smellinâ any better.â I pushed him towards the bathroom. âWhile you do that, Iâm gonna order some food.â
Though somewhat insulted, Raja didnât complain, probably still wondering when the tide would turn. As he shut the bathroom door, I clutched my stomach as nausea rose within me. Though I didnât know why, I decided to pick something leftover friendly so Iâd at least have something to eat when I was feeling better.
Raja took a shower so long, I actually thought he mightâve slipped and died in there, but it didnât feel appropriate to go in and check. He didnât emerge from the bathroom until the pizza had been waiting on the counter for ten minutes, and when he did, he looked completely different.
His hair was swept back from his forehead, though a little curl had wiggled free and hung loosely over his brow. He was taller than I was, yet also skinnier, so my shirt was both too short and too loose to fit him properly, and he had to tie his sweatpants so tightly that the string resembled a vise. Really, what was amazing was how a shower and a clean set of clothes could make a guy look so much more alive.
Sitting on the bar stool by the counter, I motioned my hand toward the opened pizza box. Figuring he might feel awkward if he ate alone, I put a slice of pizza on a plate in front of me, though I hadnât touched it yet.
When Raja approached, it was with so much caution I had to force a plate into his hands from the cabinet myself - though I had to admit, extreme awkwardness was a step up from the crying breakdown weâd shared earlier.
âMan, this looks good.â He stared, clearly taken aback. âI canât believe you bought me dinner, too.â
âItâs no big deal.â I waved a hand dismissively. âI pride myself on not starving my guests, as a general rule. Plus, I donât feel like cooking, soâŠâ
Another smile, sincere, sweet. Still, Raja seemed a little uneasy, and it took me eating the pizza first before he felt he could join me. Then, he pulled not one, but two eager slices from the cardboard box.
âSo⊠you must make pretty good money as a fireman, right?â Raja asked, glancing around the kitchen a little more carefully. âShit, sorry, I shouldnât have said that. Thatâs pretty presumptuous.â
âNah, itâs cool,â I shrugged. âThey could stand to pay me more, honestly. Theyâve been slashing bonuses and ignoring requests for raises âcause of the âequipment budget,â which pisses me off.â
âThatâs stupid.â Raja frowned with a mouthful of pizza tucked into his cheek. âNot that it really matters to you, but for what itâs worth, when I saw you at the camp⊠as hard as it was to see you after all these yearsâŠâ
He paused. I watched him with rapt attention.
âI was really proud of you,â he said quietly. âI thought about it, and I was like⊠of course heâs a fireman. Thatâs absolutely the kind of job heâd have. It just made sense.â
I smiled warmly. âEh, I always think it wouldâve been fun to have made movies. Makinâ shit like John Carpenter, you know?â
âThe arts pay like shit, thoughâ thatâs what my parents always said. Thatâs why I never went pro with the music.â He peeled a pepperoni off the top of his slice. âStill wouldâve been fun, though.â
Right after Raja had said it, it was like Iâd been zapped by lightning. âActually, speaking of thatââ
Immediately, I bounded off the bar stool and made my way over to the closet. I didnât have to dig deep this time, and I could hardly contain my excitement when I brought it out for Raja to see. It needed no introduction: upon seeing it, his mouth dropped open.
âNo fucking way! Is that my old guitar?â He asked, stunned. âYou actually kept it?â
âUh, yeah?â I raised an eyebrow, perplexed. âWhy would I get rid of it?â
ââCauseâŠâ He paused, and a sadness took over his face. He put his slice back down on the plate. âI guess I didnât think you cared about it that much. Honestly, I figured youâd have pawned it off by now. Not that itâd have gotten you much, but still.â
The idea of getting rid of Rajaâs guitar had never once occurred to me. Iâd brought it with me to several different apartments, and even though Iâd play it once in a while, its home was in my closet with other sentimental pieces I hadnât had the heart to throw away just yet. Aside from photos that were too painful to look at, the guitar was all Iâd had left of him. As awkward as it was to admit, I cherished it.
âNah, this thingâs too cool to pawn off.â Once Iâd hauled the guitar over to the couch, I undid the clasps of the case. âYou remember that afternoon when you tried to teach me Somewhere Over the Rainbow? Not the Wizard of Oz version, the one by the fat Hawaiian guy?â
His eyes crinkling, Raja let out that goofy little laugh of his. âYeahâ oh man, you were so pissed after like, an hour.â
âYeah, well, itâs a lot harder than you made it look.â I flipped the guitar case wide open and dug around to make sure I still had the guitar pick. âMy fingers still hurt just thinking about it.â
âBut you learned how to play a little of it!â He grinned. âIf youâd actually kept up at it, youâd have gotten somewhere. Maybe even⊠somewhere over the rainbow.â
I laughed gracelessly, and once heâd finished his pizza slice, Raja wiped his hands off on his pants and came over to join me by the couch.
âWow, itâs still in really nice condition.â He ran his fingers along his initials at the bottom of the guitar. âYou never use it, do you?â
âI donât have the time. Iâd really like to learn a song or twoâŠâ I let out a wistful sigh. âHey, you think youâre still any good?â
He blinked. âOh, um⊠well, Iâm probably a little rusty, butââ
âCâmon.â I looked up at him hopefully. âGive it a whirl.â
Raja cast his eyes away, a bit embarrassed. âAlright, alright⊠what should I play?â
âDidnât you have some little song you used to play? Goes something like thisââ I tried to hum the tune, but itâd been so long, I wasnât sure heâd still recognize it. âYou know, that one?â
To my surprise, he did, tapping his foot as I hummed. âOkay, yeah, that one. Move over, letâs see if muscle memory can work its magic.â
We moved the guitar out of the way, and as Raja sat on the couch, I set the guitar on his lap. His hands fell into place naturally on the body of the guitar, and I couldnât help but watch the birthmark that stained his knuckles ripple as he played out the tune with ease. As the song carried throughout the air, the tension that had hung around us melted away, and it was like weâd never been apart in the first place.
When the melody concluded, I smiled in approval. âWhat are you talking about? Youâre still great!â I beamed.
Raja smiled sweetly. âI havenât been out of practice for that long. I had another guitar that I used to busk for money, but Zeke sold it so he could get shit for his dopesick girlfriend. Fucking asshole.â
I stared at him, puzzled. âWhy do you still talk to him if he steals your stuff?â
âWell⊠not to sound pathetic, but people donât really talk to you when you live on the streets.â A somber expression formed on Rajaâs face. âYou kind of end up talking to anyone just to talk to someone at all, âcause otherwise you just kind of⊠wander around like youâre invisible. It can get pretty lonely.â
As he stared off into the distance, Raja rested his hands aimlessly on the guitar. While Iâd gone through my own share of heartache, I knew that life for him couldnât have been easy these past ten years. It never had to be this way, I thought. Then, holding my breath, I shot a nervous glance at Raja, who was still staring off into space.
âRaj,â I began. âQuestion.â
âHm?â He focused back on me.
âWould you be open to staying here? With me?â I eyed him closely. âJust to help you get back on your feet.â
âAre you joking?â In shock, his hands curled roughly around the guitar. âManny, Iâ I could never ask that of you. After everythingââ
âYouâre not asking, Iâm offering,â I corrected.
As guilt began to erupt inside of him, Raja stammered hopelessly. âI-I⊠I donâtââ
Before he could continue, I placed my hand over his, covering his birthmark with my palm. We both looked at our hands, then back at one another. Under the warmth of my gaze, I sensed Rajaâs hesitance begin to melt. He pulled his hand away, but seemed unhappy to do so.
âLet me think about it.â He said it so quietly, it was nearly a whisper. âIf thatâs cool with you.â
âYeah,â I replied. âThink about it for as long as youâd like.â
Considering the ringer Iâd put Raja through today, after that, I dropped the issue for the rest of the night. There was the chance that he would leave in the early morning hours and disappear without a trace, but I trusted him not to. Maybe I was stupid to still trust him after all this time, but I did.
Later that night, when Iâd finally been able to wind down enough to sleep, I had nightmares as I usually did. In the pitch black dark, I launched upright in my bed, heart racing and head filled with a relentless buzzing, trying not to throw up from the sudden motion of being startled awake.
When I became more cognizant of my surroundings, instead of being met with an isolating silence, I heard Raja in the living room, plucking away at the guitar as the storm outside continued to rage. The sound of Somewhere Over the Rainbow flowed through the hall and into my room, where it turned the four walls of my bedroom from claustrophobic to comforting.
I fell back asleep within a minute.