B: Like A Rolling Stone The Due South Fiction Archive Entry Home Quicksearch Search Engine Random Story Upload Story   B: Like A Rolling Stone by Dee Gilles Disclaimer: For entertainment. Benny & Ray 106 Like a Rolling Stone Dee Gilles Rated R The little apartment on St. Donatus Street was hot. The month of May so far had been an unusually warm one, and today Ben had opened all the windows to let a breeze in. A fine pollen had seeped its way into the apartment, lightly dusting the window sills. The apartment would need a good cleaning before they vacated it for two weeks. He was packing for Canada. There was also laundry to be done, bills to be paid, and the refrigerator needed to be defrosted. He wished Ray would hurry up and get home; he'd appreciate the extra hands. But Ray was at the hospital sitting with Tommy. He went everyday, much like when Ben himself had been in the hospital, felled by Ray's own bullet. Ben glanced at the clock. He dumped some tightly folded T-shirts on the bed and dug out his wallet. He placed some money on the nightstand so he wouldn't forget to leave it for their niece Rosanna, who would water their plants, look after Pearson, and take in the mail while they were gone. He was looking forward to getting away with his little family to the cool climes of northern Canada. No chasing criminals, no classes, no papers. No city noise. The quiet would be good for Ben's soul. The spring had gone badly, and he needed some healing. Chicago had gone through a crime wave the likes of which had not been seen in a couple of decades. He and Stan had been hitting the pavement hard--literally. Wednesday he had jumped out of a second floor apartment over on Diversey, in hot pursuit of an alleged rapist. He hadn't tucked properly and blew out his knee when he landed. A trip to the emergency room had been required to pop the joint back in place. The knee was still secured with an ace bandage. Plus, he and Ray were not doing so well in the relationship department either. Ray had been withdrawn as of late, and silent. He disappeared for periods of time without accounting for his whereabouts. Sometimes when Ray returned home from God-knows-where, he smelled different. Their sex was different, too. It was infrequent. When they did it, it was Ben who initiated it, and it was brief, perfunctory. Ben Fraser was a savvy man, despite his persistent reputation for navet. He knew that it was past time for Ray and him to speak of certain matters. He wasn't looking forward to it. In fact, he had been dreading it, putting it off because exposing the issue to the light of day would make it feel very, very real and raw, and horrible. Even so, Ben was looking forward to this trip to Yellowknife to spend some time with Ray, if they could get past that. Although Carie was coming too, much to Ray's protestations, Ben had received a generous offer from Maggie, who was flying in with her fianc Avery to spend a week with them, to keep Carie for one weekend so that he and Ray could go camping, to be by themselves on a more private retreat. His plan was to confront Ray when he felt the time and place was right. It wasn't going to be pleasant, though, no matter how benign the circumstances. Ray's immediate reaction to all conflict was to explode into rage. Ben would need to broach the subject very gently, and in a non-threatening way. Ben thought he might suggest to Ray that they go into couples' therapy, thought a mediator might be exactly what they needed. He didn't think Ray would go for it, but he had to attempt something. It seemed to him that they kept arguing about the same old things lately, with only temporary resolution. Ben was frustrated. He had had the strangest dream last night. He had walked into his house, but it wasn't his and Ray's home, it was his grandparent's big old drafty house in Inuvik. Paw Paw was outside tending to the dogs. Grammy was inside, down in the cellar, putting up jars of preserved squash and tomatoes for the long cold winter ahead. He could hear the occasional clink! of glass jars knocking as she stacked them. Other than that, the house was silent. He had just returned from the library with a bagful of books, had lingered there for a long time, making it home just as the sun was settling over the horizon. His younger self went upstairs to his room, anxious to dig into his books. He'd sat at his desk and spent a few minutes sorting the books in the order that he wanted to read them, when he noticed that his closet door was ajar. Curious, he stood. He opened the closet door and discovered it was empty. He drew back in surprise. He then went to his dresser and yanked open the drawers. They were empty as well. Ben looked around the room, and discovered other missing things. His hockey card collection was gone. His Mason jar of coins was gone too. Ben charged downstairs, and indignantly asked his grandmother if she had removed his things. She stared at him blankly, for he had no voice. He ran outside, panic rising, to find his grandfather, who was now in the garage replacing a leather strap on the dogsled. He yelled at his grandfather but he made not a sound. He stood there and yelled and yelled and yelled and could not make himself understood. He began to pantomime, gesticulating wildly. His father appeared from nowhere. He put his hand on his shoulder, and held up his other hand, to quell his silent screaming. His father shook his head at him, mouth drawn tight with disapproval. Ben woke himself, moaning aloud. He put his hand out next to him for reassurance, but Ray's side of the bed was unoccupied. He checked Ray's alarm clock. It was twelve twenty. He laid there puzzling over the dream, wondering why he dreamt it, wondering where Ray was. He continued his packing now, ambling carefully, roaming from room to room and mindful of his wrapped knee. He gathered his and Carie's things for their extended holiday. He had encouraged Ray to start packing last night instead of waiting until the last minute like he always did, but Ray hadn't even so much as pulled his luggage out of the hall closet yet. Despite his misgivings about the holiday, Ben was excited nonetheless. This would be Carie's first trip to his homeland, and Ben was thrilled. He knew she wouldn't remember this trip in the future, but for him, it was important nonetheless. He got to show her where he'd come from. He thought he might take her to see the Mounties. Buck Frobisher kept him filled in on the latest doings in short, terse little letters. The RCMP had installed another outpost a few miles outside of town, and they had put up a plaque for Dad, planted a few trees and erected a flagpole out front. `Fraser Depot' they named it. Dad would be proud of himself, Ben thought with a small smile. The building had been opened without much fuss and fanfare six weeks ago. Ben had wanted to be there for the small dedication ceremony, had tried to move their trip to coincide with the occasion, but he and Ray couldn't get the time off together at the same time. Ben exited the bedroom. He crept into his sleeping daughter's room, moving silently, grabbing a few more items to pack. She lay in bed uncovered, wild locks of curly brown hair aggressively strewn across her pillow. She slept in a diaper and a white T-shirt. He was reassured by her steady, even breathing. He drew up the sheet from the foot of the bed and covered her legs. He moved quietly around the room. He need not have worried too much about awaking her as he moved about, however, collecting articles of clothing and a few toys for the long trip. Like him, his daughter was a heavy sleeper. These days, if Ben didn't get her ready for bed in time, she crashed and crashed hard wherever she happened to be. Last night she was snoozing on her little potty, her head leaning back on the wall. She somehow managed to look very grown-up and serious with her little jeans at her ankles, an upside down book on her lap. The potty was Carie's new favorite spot to reside. She wasn't yet interested in eliminating in the potty, but she did enjoy sitting with a good book every once in a while. Ben suspected she had seen her Papa sitting on the toilet reading one of his muscle-car magazines. Carie and Ray were best friends these days, now that she could interact more verbally with Ray. She watched and copied everything he did and said. Ben had already had to caution Ray about watching his mouth and minding his manners around her. Carie was already sassy and fresh enough on her own, without Ray's encouraging her. He was sure that mouthiness was a Vecchio trait. He selected some more of Carie's T-shirts and pants, two fleece pullovers, and her tiny hiking boots and her sneakers. He grabbed her Pooh and Piglet out of her otherwise vacant crib. There'd be no forgiving him if he forgot to bring those two along for the visit. He took a few toiletries, and ambled out of the room and quietly shut the door behind him. As Ben returned to their bedroom to deposit Carie's extra things in his duffel bag, he heard keys jingle in the hallway. Two seconds later, Ben heard the familiar sound of Ray letting himself in for the evening. "Hey!" Ray called from the living room. He heard keys drop on the table, and Ray appeared in the bedroom doorway. "How is he?" Ben asked. Ray shrugged. "Not good. He's really depressed, not talking much. He refuses to look himself in the mirror, and I can't say I blame him. He looks awful." Tommy had finally recovered enough to undergo the first of what would be several facial reconstruction surgeries. It was scheduled for tomorrow morning. "Those motherfuckers!" Ray muttered as he dropped on the bed and jerked off his shoes without untying the laces. "Domenico, that faccia di stronzo! Tommy's permanently fucked, and he's probably out on the town now with the other two, having pizza and beer, living it up. He won't see the inside of a courtroom for months, if at all. Probably plea it out, and he'll get away with this shit." Ben shared Ray's frustration with the slow pace of the American justice system, but he suppressed it. "It will be all right, Ray. Justice will prevail," he said as he stowed away Carie's things. "'Justice will prevail'!" Ray mocked him. "You ever listen to how stupid you sound sometimes, Benny? You sound like some...some corny black and white Western. This ain't no movie, Benny. This is real life!" "Don't take it out on me, Ray!" Ben warned. "Sorry, Benny," Ray immediately muttered. "But this is personal. This is big. Tommy? Tommy, he's like family." Ray lay back on the bed, crossing his ankles and put his hands behind his head. "I know that, Ray. I'm fond of him too." Ray closed his eyes. Ben went to his dresser and pulled out socks and underwear, and dropped them on the bed. He also retrieved some jeans. He went to the bathroom and retrieved some other personal items. He returned to the bedroom. Ray had not moved. Ben studied him for a moment, and finally prompted. "Ray. Can you please pack? You know you always forget things when leave it to the last moment and have to rush." Ray opened his eyes. "Um...Benny. I gotta tell you something." He came up on his elbows and sighed heavily. He actually appeared tongue-tied for a moment. Anxiety stabbed Ben in the gut. He stood stock-still, waiting for whatever Ray had to say. Ray cleared his throat, and swallowed nervously. "I'm not going with you and Carie to Canada, Benny." Ben stared at Ray incredulously, mouth open, for several seconds. Finally, a sense of outrage kicked in. He threw down the jeans he was holding, disgusted. "Oh Ray, Ray, Ray! We've been planning this holiday for months! Why would you not want to go?" "Well...Benny, I'm scared for Tommy. I don't feel right about leaving him at a time like this. He's hurt, and I can't just go off and leave him." It was a flimsy excuse, and they both knew it. Ben sat on the bed next to Ray, carefully stretching his leg out. "But he has Bruno, Ray," he said exasperated, "and his other friends and family." "Yeah, but I don't feel right about it, still." "But Ray, this trip was your idea." "I know Benny, I know." Ben sat in silence and contemplated this stranger lying on his bed. Ray had blind-sided him. He had presented Ben with the tickets to Yellowknife on Christmas day, and he had been counting down to the trip ever since. The thought of his springtime homecoming had gotten Ben through many a long and solemn winter day. The thought of waking in the cabin loft with Ray as the morning sun poured in on them had been a salve to him. Finally, Ben spoke. His voice quivered in anger. "I'm extremely disappointed, Ray." He shook his head. "Really, Benny? How does it feel?" Ben stared at him, taken aback at the undisguised disdain in his voice. Ray stared back at him balefully. The too-familiar tension rose between them rose once more, taut and unmistakable. A long silence stretched between them. "What am I being punished for now, Ray?" Ray refused to answer, looking away. The icy silence continued the rest of the night. Ben finished his packing, and they prepared for bed. Ray turned out the light and crawled in, turning his back on Benny. They just slept inches apart yet worlds away. FINIS   End B: Like A Rolling Stone by Dee Gilles Author and story notes above. Please post a comment on this story.