Free A Life in Men: A Novel by Gina Frangello Page B

“The guys who did it, they were my teammates. Our coach was like our god. It was like I’d broken God’s windows and pissed on his bed.
I
did that to her, you understand—it was my carelessness, my ego. I thought I could trespass on God, and they taught me a lesson.”
    “Buddy,” Yank says, or maybe he is not Yank anymore, “you ever tell Nicole this story?”
    To his surprise, Joshua laughs; the sound makes Yank jump. “Fuck, no,” Joshua breathes. “Some romantic story, eh? What girl wants to hear a story like that?”
    Once, a couple of months back, Yank walked in on Joshua and Nicole jumping up and down on their shitty mattress chanting, “Ah-so, jump!” over and over again, giggling and holding hands. Nicole seemed embarrassed, but Joshua had cheerfully explained that they were wondering whether, if the entire country of China jumped simultaneously, the earth would move. It was late, but still Yank had stormed to the common room, growling, “You better tone it down or I’m gonna kick both your dumb asses,” slamming the door hard. How could
anyone
be so damn young they’d never even seen a cheesy kung fu flick, didn’t know the saying was from Japan, not China? These kids were too young to know jack shit about anything. “Grouch!” they called after him, undeterred. “Scrooge! Cranky old man!”
    And he has just been too long without a woman is all. He has been too long on the run, even when he stays in one place. It has simply been too damn long since he’s made jokes holding someone’s hand, since he laughed into the night instead of getting up fast and putting on his pants—too long since he’s made anything but war, since anyone on this earth was truly
his
.
    “Nicole’s not just any girl,” he tells Joshua. “I think she might surprise you.”
    But the joint is no longer smoking, has died out right against Joshua’s skin, become ash. “I came here to start fresh,” Joshua says vehemently. “Me and Nicole, we can go anywhere we want. We’ll be moving from country to country, so that shit about having to go home after six months won’t apply. We can see the whole world, and someday, when I get too old for the circus, we’ll just pick the place we liked best, someplace quiet where we can have a garden.”
    Yank says, “That’s some plan.”
    Joshua’s shoulders shake. His breath comes shuddery. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah.”
    “I really hope you get it.” Yank stands.
    Because this is a case of mistaken identity. He is just a man who leaves rooms, closes doors. Every pivotal moment in his life, in fact, has ended just this way: him poised at a doorway, set to run. Hell, if you think about it, right now doesn’t even qualify.
This
was someone else’s moment all along. He is only around for the ride.
    A ND SO FINALLY there is this: the way her body tenses when Joshua first grabs hold of the metal bar and ascends, the trapeze beginning to move as if by magic, without any visible sign of a struggle as he swings through the air. The way the kid who, getting high first thing in the morning in his jeans with those clashing floral and plaid patches, is just another dime-a-dozen hippie, up
there
becomes something else: something animal and pure, possessing absolute authority. He wields his body like a knife. When Yank pulls his eyes away and looks at Nicole, she is visibly holding her breath as Joshua, hanging upside down in a unitard, extends his arms toward a black-haired girl who does not speak his language, and the girl—some crazy fucking chick who never learned there’s nothing in the whole damn world
that
worthy of trust—lets go and soars into nothingness, catching his hands. They swing, they fly. Her leg touching Yank’s on the bleachers, Nicole exhales loudly enough for it to pass for a sob.
    “Kak!” Sandor exclaims, on Nicole’s other side as he always seems to be—Christ, what if he’s not even a queer at all and is in love with her, too?—“I thought maybe he