Poetic Justice

“Here.”

Orlando took the diary-sized book and pen. “What’s this for?”

Dr. Neilson, the therapist, smiled at him as she sat in Viggo’s favourite chair. “I want you to start recording all your dreams, thoughts and emotions in there. You can even draw if that would be easier. Anything at all that pertains to the attack. Every time you write a page think of it as cleansing your soul.”

She’d been coming every single day for an hour for a week now. “Anything at all?” When she nodded he spent a few moments examining the book. The cover was hard, plain black, and smooth. The pen was a basic ballpoint. “Alright, I can try, I guess.”

“That’s all I ask. Keep it with you wherever you go. You’d be surprised where you can be when your mind starts to work things over. Keep it by the bed, and if you wake up in the night from a dream write it down right away. Don’t wait, Orlando, because when it’s fresh in your mind the emotions that go with it are easier to remember. Wait too long, and it won’t have the same impact.”

“I got it,” he nodded.

“Anything you’d like to focus on today?”

“Viggo’s got some kind of secret,” Orlando blurted.

“And that bothers you?”

His brows drew together thoughtfully. “When you’re here he’s gone, and sometimes he’s gone for a little after you leave. He calls, and tells me he’ll be home soon so I don’t freak out being alone, I guess.”

“He worries about you,” she stated.

“Yeah.”

She was watching him, paying close attention to anything that told her the mood he was in, or the thoughts he was having. “So why does that bother you? His having a secret,” she reminded.

Shrugging he shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t pinpoint it, but I think he goes out to find the guy who attacked me.”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“I have. He says he just clears out to make our sessions easier on me.” Orlando’s lips pursed, and he toyed with the pen.

“You don’t believe him?”

“I told him.” He swallowed hard, and lifted worried dark eyes to her. “I told him what that guy did to me. All of it, and the look on his face…”

She gave him a moment, but he didn’t go on. “Did it frighten you?”

“No, you don’t get it. It was… There was no look. He went blank,” he tried to explain. He could remember that morning. As usual he sat on the counter to watch Viggo shave, and out of nowhere felt the sudden need to tell the older man everything. The need was so strong he just began to talk, and didn’t look up once until he’d finished. Viggo stood there, face expressionless, and nodded. Orlando had half expected to see disgust on the man’s handsome face, to see him back away from him as though being too close to him was more than he could bare, but there’d been nothing.

“Did he say anything?”

“Not a bloody word,” the Brit replied. “He just calmly went back to shaving.”

“So he didn’t ask you to tell him?”

“Oh no. Viggo wouldn’t do that. He told me when first came to the hospital that I didn’t have to tell him anything unless I wanted to. It’s why he hired you. Figured I might want to tell someone impartial.”

She watched his fingers now play with the book. “What prompted you to suddenly tell him after so long?”

Orlando scowled, considering that. “I don’t know. If he knew the truth maybe then he wouldn’t want me here anymore.”

“Do you want to leave here?”

“No! I like it here. And he doesn’t treat me any different than he ever has, but… There was no look.” He shook his head, chewing the inside of his bottom lip. “No look at all.”

A half hour after the therapist left Orlando stood in front of the bathroom mirror critically eyeing his reflection. His dark curls were still dripping from the shower he’d just taken. The bruises were fading, and the doctor had assured him that the scrapes on his face would leave no scars because they were so slight. He was glad of that. He wouldn’t get many roles anymore if he looked like Bella Lugosi in some horror movie, unless he was trying out for a horror. The two black eyes were now yellow and he could once again widen his eyes. His lips were still rough looking, but that would take time to heal. His ribs still hurt, but at least he could sit down without pain now. That was a bonus.

He heard the door, and Viggo calling to him. With a beaming smile he poked his head out of the bathroom. “I took a shower, and I’m just getting dressed,” he called. Hurriedly he dried off, vigorously toweling his hair until the dark curls were merely damp.

Viggo smiled to see the young man nearing with a spring to his step. He was partially dressed, his tussled head of dark curls obscured by the tee shirt he was pulling down over his head, one slim arm stabbing through a sleeve. “So how was your afternoon?”

“It was okay, I guess. We talked about you.” Orlando flashed a mischievous grin, and sniffed at the air. “What’s that smell?”

“Indian food,” Viggo grinned back. “You’re in a good mood.”

Pausing to consider that Orlando nodded, picking at an opened box of food and tossing a piece of vegetable in his mouth. He chewed twice, halted, his eyes widened and watered, and he spat the food in the sink, turning on the cold water to tip his head under the flow and gulp in mouthfuls.

Viggo’s laugh erupted, filling the room. “Yeah, forgot to tell you that it can be spicy.” He motioned to a plastic bag of more containers. “I also got some Sushi and Chinese.”

Panting, his face still flushed, Orlaaccuaccusingly glowered at his friend. “Bloody hell! And people eat this stuff?” He lightly elbowed the older man who was still laughing softly. “It’s not funny.”

With a mouthful of spicy food Viggo waggled his brows, his blue eyes dancing. “I thought it was hilarious, actually.”

They were once again lazing about the coffee table in the living room. This time they were watching Snow Falling On Cedars. “Where do you go when the therapist is here?”

Viggo shrugged, reaching for curried lamb. “Just out. I don’t go to the same place everyday. I just go around is all.”

Orlando reached for his drink. “Are you looking for the guy who hurt me?”

“Why? You want me to? The police are trying to find him.” He held up a box of Indian food, and at the grimace on his friend’s face he smiled at dumped the remainder of the contents on his own plate.

“It’s been a week,” the Brit announced. “They have his face plastered everywhere, and nothing yet. How could no one have seen him? You gonna tell me nobody knows who it was?”

“No. I’m going to tell you that someone knows, and won’t or can’t tell. This guy’s dangerous.” At the snort of derision he shot the younger man a warning look. “What if he’s threatened those that would tell? What if he’s not from this city? There are a hundred variables, my friend, and nothing solid except a composite drawing that could be slightly off to go on.” He held up a hand to stay the angry diatribe he could tell was coming. “I’m not making excuses, I’m stating facts. I’m not saying you wouldn’t remember him, but I am saying that maybe ~~ just maybe ~~ he looked different as he attacked you. Kind of like how a person might see a monster when it’s just a lost animal.”

“He wasn’t a lost animal.” Orlando trembled in his attempt to keep control of his rage. “He came right at me, Viggo. He came at me, and he had a gun. He knew what he wanted to do.”

Viggo paused, worriedly eyeing his friend. “That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it.”

“I sometimes wonder if he knew I was in the city and went looking for me. He kept saying he’d make me ugly so she’d see I wasn’t worth it. He said he wanted it to hurt more for me than it did when he lost her.”

“A jealous boyfriend of husband,” he nodded. “Sometimes I wish they’d get it. We don’t knock on their doors trying to seduce their women. We don’t keep a list of the names of the women who think we’re attractive.”

“But they hate us, and want us to pay for it anyway.” Orlando deflated. “He had me wishing I was ugly just so he’d leave me alone. But what I don’t get? If he hated me so much because his girlfriend thought I was cute why would he rape me?”

Good question. “Maybe she didn’t leave him because she thought you were cute. Maybe she left him because he thought you were.”

Shivering in revulsion Orlando set his food down. “Okay, that’s disturbing.” He noticed a strange look in the older man’s blue eyes. “Viggo? Earth to Viggo, come in Viggo!”

Blinking he smiled. “Sorry. You know, there’s nothing wrong with one man finding another cute.”

“I’m not homophobic, but I also don’t want every gay male in the world to think I want them to come onto me. Quite frankly I don’t see the appeal in anal sex. It hurt like a bloody bitch.”

Chuckling sounded. “It wasn’t exactly the finest first experience.”

“What would constitute a good experience? Candlelight and soft music?” Orlando snorted, shaking his head. “Either way it’s a foreign object going somewhere it’s not meant to.”

“How do you know that? What if it’s supposed to be normal? What if it wasn’t Adam and Eve, but Adam and Ethan?” Viggo had the young Brit breaking into amused laughter. “No, think about it? Who dictates that it’s supposed to be one man and one woman? The bible does. Who wrote it? Men did. Where’s the proof that says male/male or female/female relationships are sinful? Animals don’t care. They have a need, and they hump the nearest one of their kind. Does the bible say they’re sinful? Do they have laws that say they’ll burn in hell for it? Hell would be pretty full of four legged creatures then. Why can’t love be love, period? Why does it have to have limitations and rules set to it?”

Startled Orlando blinked. “Are you gay?”

“No, I’m just…” Viggo sighed heavily. “People can be such hypocrites. They preach peace and God’s rules, and they make war, kill their neighbors, and cheat on their wives. They commit more sins ~~ that they claim to preach against ~~ and spend more time pointing fingers…” Shaking his head he gave a humorless laugh. “Never mind.”

“No, I think it makes a lot of sense. Love shouldn’t have boundaries, and a person shouldn’t point fingers while casting the first stone… or missile. But I once believed in God.”

“Once?”

“You don’t really think after what that bloody bastard did to me I’d really think there’s a higher entity watching over me, do you?”