Veil (34 page)

Brock experienced Hunter leave the lab, throw
open the doors to the outside
,
and run
down the street. In that moment, Hunter had no thoughts and didn’t
say anything. He ran and ran and ran and ran and kept running. He
ran as fast as he could. He ran down the entire block, crossed the
first street he came to
,
and ran into a
small park where he did flips and handstands in the grass. He even
walked on his hands some.

To experience so such motion and to
experience it so realistically, so quickly, and so freely was
almost too much for those atrophied regions of Brock’s mind. It
felt so incredible that his mind could barely handle the experience
and was tempted to reject it. Brock felt like he needed to escape
but quickly realized he was holding his breath. He reminded himself
to relax and once he did so, once he relaxed and took a breath, he
began to feel every motion.

Brock felt every single beautiful,
unrestricted motion through each fiber of Hunter’s muscles. Oh God,
the motion. All the motion. Brock never wanted it to end. Motion,
more motion. Movement. Electricity from muscles long since
forgotten exploded throughout Brock’s mind and burst into
full-body, orgasmic fireworks. Blast after blast after blast from
sticks of Hunter-dynamite erupted underneath his skin. Brock could
feel all of Hunter’s body; he could feel it.

Oh-my-fucking-God
—
I-can-feel-it
.

Back in the lab, Brock was unable to contain
himself and, with his eyes tightly closed, he let out a triumphant
yell. It was an expression of satisfaction and conquest hinged on
frustrations he harbored against his own body for over two decades.
It came out like a battle cry and made Hunter, still perched at his
side, beam and glow.

Hunter knew where Brock was; he glanced at
the notebook and pocket watch and knew Brock was at the park.
Brock’s battle cry subsided and changed into a champion’s
smile
,
which soon turned into a giggle.
When Brock let out a big huff and tilted his head back slightly,
Hunter knew exactly which part Brock was at.

Out of breath, Hunter plopped on a patch of
grass, fell backwards
,
and stared up at
the sky while he took in deep breaths. He rested and watched the
clear, blue Washington, D.C. sky. His racing heart slowed, as did
the gasps for air from his burning lungs.

After a couple of minutes Hunter thought,
Welp, can’t waste any time, bud
, and sat up. Hunter looked
around at the few people in the park and added,
Wonder if they
think we’re crazy
?

In the lab, Brock laughed out loud and
thought
,
They probably do, but who
cares
?

Hunter got up and walked across the park
toward his rental car
,
which was
intentionally positioned nearby.

On the way to the car Hunter thought,
Ok
bud, so we’re going to do this a little differently. Usually the
person getting shadowed will probably go about their day, nothing
different; just thinking what they would normally think and doing
what they’d normally do. Well, today you’re not only along for the
ride, we’re going to enjoy it together. You can’t talk back to me
now, but that’s ok. If this works the way I’m hoping it will, I
want you to open your eyes right now, look at me
,
and blink three times
.

Brock opened his eyes, looked at a grinning
Hunter, and blinked three times.

Hunter gave Brock a thumbs-up and said,
“Let’s go.”

Brock closed his eyes again. Hunter glanced
at Ken, who seemed confused, so Hunter shook his head and waved him
off. Ken took that to mean he shouldn’t worry.

Hunter got in the car and started the engine.
He rolled down all the windows and drove off. Brock could feel the
wind in Hunter’s hair.

“The good thing about being alone is I can
talk out loud. The whole thinking thoughts in my head just for you
thing is kinda creepy and foreign, so I’d rather talk out loud,”
Hunter said. “I promise I’m not going to take up all your day by
talking and will sit back and let you enjoy the good parts, but I
wanted to do some of this together bud, me and you. The way it’s
always been.”

Brock nodded his head at that point and
smiled.

In the lab, Hunter knew what that meant and
looked down at the notebook and pocket watch. Hunter was so excited
he could barely contain himself.

Hunter turned on the car’s stereo and played
music he knew Brock liked. Brock enjoyed the ride. The music, the
wind, and the position Hunter was in all came together until it
dawned on Brock how, for the first time in his life, he was
driving. He was actually driving a car. He could feel the motions
of Hunter’s hands turning the wheel and the feeling of his feet on
the pedals. The fact that he wasn’t actually in control of any of
it didn’t matter to him. He could feel it; all he needed to do was
let himself feel it. All he had to do was let himself soak up the
whole experience and suddenly he was driving. Brock was driving a
car.

“You like that I bet, dontcha bud?” Hunter
asked the breeze twelve hours earlier.

Beyond hearing his voice and thoughts, Brock
could also hear deeper into Hunter’s mind, underneath the surface.
He could hear Hunter think to himself how Brock was going to
experience driving a car and he could sense how happy that thought
made Hunter feel. There were deeper layers of Hunter’s thoughts and
emotions that were accessible to Brock, and he began to sense and
comprehend them. The more he did so, the easier it became to tap
into them.

But, yes, he snapped out of it, Brock did
like it. He liked driving something other than his wheelchair.

Brock opened his eyes, looked at
Hunter
,
and blinked three times. Then
three times again. And then three times again. Hunter laughed and
gave Brock the thumbs-up. Brock closed his eyes.

After driving for approximately half-an-hour,
Hunter parked and got out.

“It’s really hard not to think about what my
plans are. But shit, trying not to think about them is a way to
think about them and I want everything to be a surprise. I planned
today as best I could
,
but it’s my first
time doing this so I couldn’t prepare for everything,” Hunter said
into the open air as he walked alone along a gravel path.

The experience of walking, through Hunter,
still felt incredible for Brock. He enjoyed the walk and little by
little became better at delving into the various depths of Hunter’s
thoughts and emotions, which he slowly discovered were available to
him. He could hear Hunter think about Brock and sensed Hunter knew
how incredible the Veil was going to be for him. Brock could
perceive how hard Hunter tried to take the time to enjoy every
little thing so Brock could relish in the experience hours and
hours later.

Take your time
, Brock could hear
Hunter tell himself,
everything you take for granted is
something that could mean the world to him
.

Deep in Hunter’s thoughts, deeper than Hunter
assumed Brock would be able to plunge, there was no pity for Brock.
There was no sense of impatience on Hunter’s part; Brock found
absolutely no part of Hunter wanted to get the day over with. Brock
realized it wasn’t as if Hunter felt the day was something he
should
do for Brock
,
although he
didn’t necessarily
want
to do it. No, Brock sensed, the day
wasn’t some inconvenience for Hunter; there was truly nowhere else
Hunter would’ve rather been and nothing else he would’ve rather
done.

As Hunter walked on, Brock scoured the depths
of Hunter’s mind and found, in a combination of his thoughts and
emotions, Hunter wouldn’t rather be doing anything else; he
wouldn’t rather be anywhere else; he wouldn’t rather be with anyone
else. Brock wondered if he was intruding by listening so deeply; he
was listening much deeper than Hunter assumed Brock would be able
to listen. However, Brock knew it was all part of what their day
together through Veil was supposed to be about in the first place.
He knew Hunter didn’t care about some privacy bullshit. Their Veil
was about what Hunter wanted to give Brock and what he wanted to do
for him.

On the examining table, Brock opened his eyes
and looked at Hunter. Brock’s eyes, whose tears dried since his
last bout of emotion, welled up. Hunter noticed Brock’s expression
and was somewhat startled
,
so he glanced
at his notebook and pocket watch. He might’ve miscalculated
somewhere; Brock shouldn’t be at a sad part. By the time he looked
back up, Brock’s eyes were closed and he was smiling.

Still on their walk, Brock felt the gravel
under Hunter’s feet as his muscles moved and responded to the
climb. The wind blew against Hunter’s upright body as he walked
uphill
,
and Brock quickly realized where
they were headed. He went back there a few times. Early on in
Brock’s therapy, they thought maybe it would be good for him to
revisit the place.

Perhaps Hunter didn’t know Brock had gone
back there already. Maybe he thought Brock couldn’t have accessed
the path or made it up the hill or something. Maybe Hunter thought
going back there would be cathartic since, as far as he knew, Brock
never went back. Oh well, Brock didn’t mind; he was along for the
ride. Years ago, his first time back on the cliff was a difficult
experience for him, but only the first time. At least with Hunter,
he figured, he got to walk up to the cliff instead of having to
navigate that clumsy wheelchair.

When Hunter got up to the place where, over
twenty years before, he and his friend were carefree teenagers one
minute and forever changed the next, he stopped. He stopped right
before the rock Hunter and Brock and their friends used to all dive
off. His toes touched the edge of it.

“I’m sure you’ve been up here before. I never
came with you. You know how I am about that sentimental bullshit.
But I imagine, with all the shrinks your mom made you go to back
then, a few had the bright idea that it would be good for you to
revisit the scene of the crime, as it were. Well, bud,” Hunter
finished as he kicked off his shoes and tossed the contents of his
pockets onto the ground, “I doubt any of them could ever give you
this kind of fucking therapy.”

Hunter tore off his shirt, took a giant step
back, and rushed forward. He lunged into the air and dove off the
cliff—head first.