Free Josie and Jack by Kelly Braffet

he said, “Now let Monkey-boy in and let’s get this over with.”
    He turned away without another word and left me standing there alone.
    I waited until I heard him climbing the stairs. Then I opened the door. By then I had my breath back, but my hands were still shaking.
    Kevin put his arms around my waist and kissed me as if he were back from the wars. I did my best to respond. “Where’s Jack?” he said as he let me go. “Wasn’t he down here?”
    “He went upstairs,” I said. “He’s not feeling well.”
    We went into the living room and I put the Coltrane record on, but I had trouble making conversation. I was trying to decide whether I felt too weird, whether I should plead sick, too, when Jack came in carrying a bottle of Smirnoff.
    “Just came to keep an eye on the circus,” he said, his voice dripping with fake cheer.
    I ignored him. Kevin’s smile was only slightly uncertain. He said, “I guess you’re the ringmaster, huh?”
    “Naturally.” Jack sat down in Raeburn’s armchair. “And Josie here is the monkey handler. Hey”—as if he’d just thought of it—“I wonder what that makes you, Kevin.”
    Kevin half-laughed and glanced nervously at me.
    I took his hand. “Lion tamer.”
    Kevin laughed again, more normally this time. “Maybe I’m the guy who gets shot out of the cannon.”
    “Or the last little clown in the clown car,” Jack said.
    “Yeah,” Kevin said. “Sure.”
    Then we sat, the three of us, in the parlor. Jack was silent, taking shots of vodka straight from the bottle and staring at us, his green eyes hostile and intense. I rubbed my arms where he had grabbed them.
    Kevin broke the silence. “Josie. Didn’t you want to show me something upstairs?”
    “I’ll meet you up there,” I said.
    He nodded and left. Jack and I sat and stared.
    “You hurt me,” I said.
    Jack took a long pull at the bottle.
    “He’s waiting,” he said.
    Fifteen minutes later, Kevin and I were in my bed under the covers, naked and fumbling. The things he did were clumsy and well intentioned. I think it was the first time he’d ever been naked with a girl. I didn’t ask. Jack was playing Tristan and Isolde at top volume in his room. The floor of my bedroom shook with each crescendo.
    I thought of Jack. I thought of his strong hands and his green eyes; I thought of him fuming and rage-filled in his bedroom on the other side of the wall. If he was hurting, I was glad.
    When Kevin fell back panting and sweaty, we lay without speaking for a few minutes. It was nice to lie together. Some of my fury dissipated. But the space that was left was filled with feelings that I liked even less.
    “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” Kevin said.
    “Something is, yes.’
    After a small silence, he said, “I don’t think I’d better come up here for a while.”
    I shifted so that I could put my ear against his chest. I said nothing for a minute. I could hear his heartbeat hidden under the music like a secret message.
    “We’ve lived here for so long,” I said. “Just me and him.”
    He nodded. A drop of sweat traced its way down my back. We didn’t say anything else. Isolde wailed in the next room.
    Kevin got up and began to put his clothes on. I watched him from the bed.
    “I’ll walk you down,” I said when he was done, standing up. I didn’t bother to cover myself. I was shivering and sticky and I didn’t care.
    At the front door, Kevin turned to me. “There’s a bonfire Friday. It’s a pep rally sort of thing. Come with me.” His words were rushed, as if he were trying to get them all out before he changed his mind.
    “All right,” I said. He kissed me and left.
    I went back upstairs and crawled into my clammy bed. I expected Jack, but instead I heard the music cut off, the front door slam, and the truck engine start up outside.
    Jack returned hours later and woke me. He brought a bottle of wine and gave me the first sip. I’d been dreaming. I was still half asleep. He never said