YELLOWJACKET

With the chemical accident behind me, all I could think about now was finding Raja.

I never really considered myself prone to obsession, but since I’d recovered, it was as if a switch was flipped within me. I didn’t care how unrealistic it was to hope that lightning might strike me twice; if there was any possibility that he was in Dallas, I had to try. I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t.

What made things worse was that despite the fact that I was now taking every pill Dr. Oh pushed on me, I was still plagued by nightmares. Now I was learning the hard way that there was no relief to be found at the bottom of bottles - even non-alcoholic ones.

There’s nothing those doctors can give that can fix what’s wrong with you, mijo, I heard my mother say. You’re simply too weak.

As much as I resented it, she had a point. Maybe I was more like my dad than I thought, a wild card meant to live on the fringes of society. Would I eventually join him in disappearing into the Chihuahuan desert, gone forever without so much as a single goodbye? Some days, it seemed like the right idea.

That evening, rain came down in violent sheets as I parked my truck near South St. Paul street. By now, the sun was setting later and later, so there was still enough light for me to see the people around me as they navigated the rainy sidewalks. The headlights and street lamps lit up the puddles on the road so brightly, they hurt to look at.

Unbuckling my seat belt, I settled in for a long night of waiting. Though I’d given up on God a long time ago, I found myself praying to Him anyway: Padre nuestro, que estás en el cielo… please, let me find him. Or at least grant me the serenity to move on.

While mindlessly scanning radio stations, I couldn’t shake how crazy I felt. Had I really seen Raja that day, or had I only seen what I wanted to see? Since then, wherever I went, he was in everyone I saw: funny little birthmarks; the light in people’s eyes; smiles so contagious that you couldn’t help but smile, too.

Strange as it might’ve been, I hoped, for his sake, that it was a case of mistaken identity. The idea of him being lost to the streets of Dallas was sorely depressing, especially when I’d been living in Dallas since I left the service. I’d be kicking myself for years if I knew he was here this whole time, struggling out here when he didn’t have to.

The coffee I’d ordered from Dunkin’ Donuts sat in the cup holder for so long, it had cooled off into undrinkable sludge. Rather than drink it, I poured it out of my window and watched the rain wash it away in just a few seconds. By the time I was done staring absentmindedly at it, I looked up and saw a trio of men walking down the street towards my truck. Without any care for the weather, they stopped to talk amongst themselves.

One of the men was short and fat like a brick, and the other man appeared quite sick, creepy and thin like a cellar spider. The third man, the tallest man, had caught my attention the most.

I leaned forward in my seat. My heart revved like an engine.

Rather than take off after him, I got out of my truck as inconspicuous as possible; though my intentions were good, approaching them like this made me feel sinister. But I just had to know, had to see if it was him, had to be sure.

If it’s not him, I’ll just keep it moving, I told myself. If it’s not him, he’s not in Dallas. If it’s not him, he’s gone. For good.

My heart beat so loudly, I could hardly hear the rain hitting the pavement or the cars splashing through the water on the road. As I drew closer, their conversation became more hushed, as if they thought I was eavesdropping.

I wasn’t sure how I was even going to do this, but I had no time to figure it out: when I got within just a few feet of them, they all turned to acknowledge me. From under a curtain of shaggy hair, I saw those dark, dark, eyes. My breath caught in my throat.

I felt just as I had at the camp fire, too stunned to speak, but this time it wasn’t simply shock that paralyzed me - it was also relief.

When Raja’s gaze met mine, that same panic from before flashed across his face, but rather than bolt off immediately, he stood frozen in fear. I couldn’t bear to botch it this time, so I took a deep breath, trying to play it cool.

“Evening, gentlemen,” I said, waving amicably to hopefully disarm the tension. “How y’all doing?”

The sickly man had more holes in his shirt than teeth in his head, but despite looking like a corpse, he moved protectively to put space between me and Raja. “The fuck you want?” Spit flew from his mouth as he spoke. “You some kind of cop?”

Hoping to avoid being shanked by a junkie, I shook my head quickly. “No! I’m not a cop! Really!”

“You hearing this guy?” He turned to look at Raja, who was trying not to look at me. “Like we haven’t seen him sitting around in that big ass truck watching us? Fuckin’ hate you plainclothes assholes the most.”

“Piss off, douchebag,” said the short man. “We ain’t loitering, so get lost. You don’t got a thing on us.”

I sighed in frustration. “I just said I’m not—”

“You deaf, too?” The sickly man lurched at me threateningly. “Go!”

“Guys, stop it!” Raja growled suddenly. “He’s not a cop, okay? I know he isn’t.”

The short man gawked. “Wait, Raj, you know him?”

Heaving a sigh, Raja finally mustered up the courage to look me in the eye. “I do.”

The other men turned to face me; to show that I meant peace, I raised my hands in an act of surrender. They glanced at one another uneasily, but they made no further threats in my direction, so it was progress.

Now that I was finally getting a chance to look at Raja more closely, it hurt to see him in such a state. Even in the rain, I could tell that his hair was slick with grease, and his dense beard obscured the angles of his cheekbones. He wore the same Dallas Cowboys hoodie I’d seen him in before, mottled with stains along the sleeves, and his shoes were only a few steps away from falling apart completely.

But his eyes were the same. Even after his hardships, there was just the slightest light left in them.

No idea how my silence came across to the other men, but it definitely made Raja uncomfortable. I cleared my throat to apologize, but before I could, Raja cleared his own.

“What are you doing here, Manny?” He looked down at me coldly. Somehow, I’d forgotten just how tall he was.

“This is that Manny guy?” said the short man. His focus swiveled from Raja to me, his gaze oddly intrusive. “Huh… goofy lookin’ fuck, ain’t you? You sure got a hell of a nose on you.”

“Nice friends you got there,” I said to Raja flatly. “Look, I just want to talk. That’s all. Can we? Please?”

Raja’s hesitance was obvious, making his friends resistant to giving us privacy. But he nodded, and the two men - trading another uneasy look between each other - skulked off further down the sidewalk. That they didn’t let us out of their sight as they departed was strangely nerve-wracking.

Once they were far enough away, I turned back to Raja. He crossed his arms against his chest, chewing on his thumbnail as if trying to distract himself from my stare.

“Raj, what’s with you?” I asked. “I don’t see or hear from you for— for years and years, and the first time we see each other again, you freak out like I’m hunting you! What gives?”

Raja said nothing.

“I— I just can’t believe you’ve been in Dallas this whole time, right under my nose!” My hands turned to fists in my rage and confusion. “All this time you’ve been here— you knew I was here too, didn’t you? You knew I was going back to Dallas once my contract was up— there’s no way you didn’t know how to find me, and you just… you didn’t. Why?”

Still, he said nothing. Instead, he kept chewing on his thumbnail.

“Fucking shit, I spent years wondering what happened to you! Years of never knowing if you were dead, or alive, or— whatever might’ve happened, I don’t know!” I couldn’t contain myself, my throat tightening. “First I lost Feliz and, and this whole time, I thought I lost you, too. Why? Why didn’t you look for me?”

Raja’s shoulders slumped forward. I wondered if he’d bite his nails to the point where he’d start bleeding. I wanted to tear his hands away and make him answer me, but though his silence pissed me off, I couldn’t shake just how glad I was to see him, even underneath the anger. I swallowed thickly, trying to steady myself.

“Do you know how much I’ve missed you?” I whispered.

When he finally stopped avoiding my eyes, it was clear that Raja regretted letting me stay and say my piece. I didn’t think this was going to go well, but seeing how shitty it was turning out made me feel even dumber than I’d felt before. I was just a big fucking idiot, getting soaked to the bone trying to reason with a ghost from my past that wanted nothing to do with me. No wonder I was in therapy.

Please, just say something, I begged in my mind, but he simply stared. Anything at all. Please.

The rain around us continued to beat down on our heads. At last, breathing in deeply, Raja’s brows slanted downward. He drew his nails away from his face to cross his arms against his chest and glared at me bitterly. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

I stared at him. “What?”

“You missed me? How could you possibly miss me? Are you fucking insane?!” He exploded. His hands seized into fists as his arms flew away from his chest. “How could you want anything to do with me?! After what I did to Feliz?”

“Wh—” My head felt like it was spinning. “Raj, what the hell are you talking about?”

Raja grabbed his face, arms shaking as he dragged his fingers down his cheeks. When he pulled them back, his eyes were wide with pain. “Why don’t you fucking hate me?!” He shouted. “Why?! After everything, why?!”

As I stared at him in confusion, Raja’s anger simmered down as he brushed his wet, dirty hair back over his forehead. The center of his brows wrinkled as deep remorse overtook his features. “Everyone else hates me for what happened, and they should,” he said solemnly. “So I don’t know why you don’t. If anything… you of all people should hate me the most.”

“I— no, I— I don’t hate you.” My heart crawled up into my throat; keeping my voice steady was a lost cause. “I could never hate you.”

In shock, Raja’s lip quivered. The rain continued hitting the pavement with a pitter-patter, soaking through my jacket and into my shirt. I couldn’t have cared less.

“When I saw you at that camp fire… I wanted to say something, but— you left before I could, and for these past few weeks, I’ve been looking all over for you,” I continued, even as my lungs shook in my chest. “All these years, man… all I wanted was to know you were still out there.”

Raja could barely stand to return my gaze, turning away to look out at the street as the sun began to set. If he was crying, I couldn’t tell, the rain had soaked him so completely. When I stepped forward, he retracted inward, like he was infected with something he didn’t want to spread.

“Raj,” I said. “Why did you run from me?”

“’Cause it’s hard just to fucking look at you,” he replied, his voice weak. “Just— seeing you after all this time… everything came flooding back.”

Gun shots.

“And I couldn’t handle it.”

Like a mirage…

“So I— I had to run away, like I always fucking do.”

Leave me.

“Like I’ve been doing for the past ten years.”

Humiliated, Raja covered his face, moving to turn his back to me. Without thinking, I grabbed his shoulders and turned him back around, taking him into my arms. Holding on to him in that moment felt like catching on to a life raft after years of being adrift at sea.

“Please don’t run from me anymore,” I pleaded, resting my head against him. “Please.”

It was as if a dam had burst. The tension in Raja’s body gave way, and he wrapped his arms around me in return. We likely looked insane to the passerby, but it didn’t matter. None of them knew a damn thing. I wrapped my arms around him so tightly, I expected him to complain, but he didn’t.

Instead, his body began to shake. There was an unsteadiness in the knee he’d been shot in, as if he wasn’t used to standing on it for so long. Against my shoulder, he began to cry.

“Manny… I’m so fucking sorry,” he said softly. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

“No,” I replied. “I’m right where I need to be.”

･ ･ ･

It took a lot of convincing, but when faced with the prospect of spending a night sleeping in the rain, Raja let me take him home - if only for tonight. I knew it was asking a lot of him, but I couldn’t stand the idea of him languishing in the rain for another night. Not if I had any say in it.

I couldn’t get past how much it reminded me of capturing a stray animal - in fact, I still had scars from rescuing a cat for Cleo when she was little - but unlike a cat, Raja could be reasoned with and didn’t seem interested in scratching my eyes out.

The drive over was like a dream sequence, it felt so unreal. I didn’t want to overwhelm Raja by talking to him like we were just casually catching up, so I decided to let him take the lead if he had questions to ask; yet he kept so quiet, there were moments where I thought he fell asleep.

Upon entering my apartment, Raja squinted at the bright lights overhead, and his eyes roamed skittishly across my floors. Before he could step any further, I pointed to his muddy sneakers, gesturing for him to take them off. Bashfully, he took them off without argument and tucked them as close to the door as he could.

“Mi casa es tu casa.” I swept my arm in front of myself to welcome him in. “You still know what that one means, right?”

Raja rubbed his nose thoughtfully. “Your house is my house?”

“Very good.” I patted him on the shoulder. “Or should I say muy bien?”

For the first time, Raja smiled, but it was hard to read much of his face when his hair was still slick to his skin from the rain. Under the light, it was obvious how dirty he was, so I pointed to a door off to the side. “Over there’s the bathroom,” I said. “Go wash up, all that rain got you lookin’ like a wet dog. Smelling like one, too.”

“Well, I don’t really have any other clothes…” He clutched his backpack to the front of him. “All I’ve got in here is, like, a shirt and some boxers. These are my only pants.”

“There’s a load of clean clothes already in a hamper, I just haven’t put them away yet.” I pointed further in through the doorway. “You can borrow some, though I’d appreciate it if you didn’t borrow my underwear. No offense.”

Raja seemed grateful, guilty and suspicious all at the same time, staring like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“’Cause even after all these years, you’re still my friend,” I replied sincerely. “Now, before you start thinking of me as a charity, I don’t really make a habit of bringing bums home, so I’m afraid the offer of clothes and a spot on my couch applies only to you and not your… friends.”

“They’re not really my friends.” He stopped to wiggle out of his hoodie, which was nearly painted on at this point. “Well, Oscar’s kind of a friend, but only because he just got back out of rehab. The second he gets back on the fent, he’ll be a real asshole again. Zeke can fuck off, though— I only hang out with him ‘cause I shared a tent with him and his girlfriend for a while.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Wow. It’s a hobo soap opera out there, huh?”

“Yep.” Raja let out an exasperated sigh. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“You can tell me later. Now go on and get, you ain’t smellin’ any better.” I pushed him towards the bathroom. “While you do that, I’m gonna order some food.”

Though somewhat insulted, Raja didn’t complain, probably still wondering when the tide would turn. As he shut the bathroom door, I clutched my stomach as nausea rose within me. Though I didn’t know why, I decided to pick something leftover friendly so I’d at least have something to eat when I was feeling better.

Raja took a shower so long, I actually thought he might’ve slipped and died in there, but it didn’t feel appropriate to go in and check. He didn’t emerge from the bathroom until the pizza had been waiting on the counter for ten minutes, and when he did, he looked completely different.

His hair was swept back from his forehead, though a little curl had wiggled free and hung loosely over his brow. He was taller than I was, yet also skinnier, so my shirt was both too short and too loose to fit him properly, and he had to tie his sweatpants so tightly that the string resembled a vise. Really, what was amazing was how a shower and a clean set of clothes could make a guy look so much more alive.

Sitting on the bar stool by the counter, I motioned my hand toward the opened pizza box. Figuring he might feel awkward if he ate alone, I put a slice of pizza on a plate in front of me, though I hadn’t touched it yet.

When Raja approached, it was with so much caution I had to force a plate into his hands from the cabinet myself - though I had to admit, extreme awkwardness was a step up from the crying breakdown we’d shared earlier.

“Man, this looks good.” He stared, clearly taken aback. “I can’t believe you bought me dinner, too.”

“It’s no big deal.” I waved a hand dismissively. “I pride myself on not starving my guests, as a general rule. Plus, I don’t feel like cooking, so…”

Another smile, sincere, sweet. Still, Raja seemed a little uneasy, and it took me eating the pizza first before he felt he could join me. Then, he pulled not one, but two eager slices from the cardboard box.

“So… you must make pretty good money as a fireman, right?” Raja asked, glancing around the kitchen a little more carefully. “Shit, sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. That’s pretty presumptuous.”

“Nah, it’s cool,” I shrugged. “They could stand to pay me more, honestly. They’ve been slashing bonuses and ignoring requests for raises ‘cause of the ‘equipment budget,’ which pisses me off.”

“That’s stupid.” Raja frowned with a mouthful of pizza tucked into his cheek. “Not that it really matters to you, but for what it’s worth, when I saw you at the camp… as hard as it was to see you after all these years…”

He paused. I watched him with rapt attention.

“I was really proud of you,” he said quietly. “I thought about it, and I was like… of course he’s a fireman. That’s absolutely the kind of job he’d have. It just made sense.”

I smiled warmly. “Eh, I always think it would’ve been fun to have made movies. Makin’ shit like John Carpenter, you know?”

“The arts pay like shit, though— that’s what my parents always said. That’s why I never went pro with the music.” He peeled a pepperoni off the top of his slice. “Still would’ve been fun, though.”

Right after Raja had said it, it was like I’d been zapped by lightning. “Actually, speaking of that—”

Immediately, I bounded off the bar stool and made my way over to the closet. I didn’t have to dig deep this time, and I could hardly contain my excitement when I brought it out for Raja to see. It needed no introduction: upon seeing it, his mouth dropped open.

“No fucking way! Is that my old guitar?” He asked, stunned. “You actually kept it?”

“Uh, yeah?” I raised an eyebrow, perplexed. “Why would I get rid of it?”

“’Cause…” He paused, and a sadness took over his face. He put his slice back down on the plate. “I guess I didn’t think you cared about it that much. Honestly, I figured you’d have pawned it off by now. Not that it’d have gotten you much, but still.”

The idea of getting rid of Raja’s guitar had never once occurred to me. I’d brought it with me to several different apartments, and even though I’d play it once in a while, its home was in my closet with other sentimental pieces I hadn’t had the heart to throw away just yet. Aside from photos that were too painful to look at, the guitar was all I’d had left of him. As awkward as it was to admit, I cherished it.

“Nah, this thing’s too cool to pawn off.” Once I’d hauled the guitar over to the couch, I undid the clasps of the case. “You remember that afternoon when you tried to teach me Somewhere Over the Rainbow? Not the Wizard of Oz version, the one by the fat Hawaiian guy?”

His eyes crinkling, Raja let out that goofy little laugh of his. “Yeah— oh man, you were so pissed after like, an hour.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a lot harder than you made it look.” I flipped the guitar case wide open and dug around to make sure I still had the guitar pick. “My fingers still hurt just thinking about it.”

“But you learned how to play a little of it!” He grinned. “If you’d actually kept up at it, you’d have gotten somewhere. Maybe even… somewhere over the rainbow.”

I laughed gracelessly, and once he’d finished his pizza slice, Raja wiped his hands off on his pants and came over to join me by the couch.

“Wow, it’s still in really nice condition.” He ran his fingers along his initials at the bottom of the guitar. “You never use it, do you?”

“I don’t have the time. I’d really like to learn a song or two…” I let out a wistful sigh. “Hey, you think you’re still any good?”

He blinked. “Oh, um… well, I’m probably a little rusty, but—”

“C’mon.” I looked up at him hopefully. “Give it a whirl.”

Raja cast his eyes away, a bit embarrassed. “Alright, alright… what should I play?”

“Didn’t you have some little song you used to play? Goes something like this—” I tried to hum the tune, but it’d been so long, I wasn’t sure he’d still recognize it. “You know, that one?”

To my surprise, he did, tapping his foot as I hummed. “Okay, yeah, that one. Move over, let’s see if muscle memory can work its magic.”

We moved the guitar out of the way, and as Raja sat on the couch, I set the guitar on his lap. His hands fell into place naturally on the body of the guitar, and I couldn’t help but watch the birthmark that stained his knuckles ripple as he played out the tune with ease. As the song carried throughout the air, the tension that had hung around us melted away, and it was like we’d never been apart in the first place.

When the melody concluded, I smiled in approval. “What are you talking about? You’re still great!” I beamed.

Raja smiled sweetly. “I haven’t been out of practice for that long. I had another guitar that I used to busk for money, but Zeke sold it so he could get shit for his dopesick girlfriend. Fucking asshole.”

I stared at him, puzzled. “Why do you still talk to him if he steals your stuff?”

“Well… not to sound pathetic, but people don’t really talk to you when you live on the streets.” A somber expression formed on Raja’s face. “You kind of end up talking to anyone just to talk to someone at all, ‘cause otherwise you just kind of… wander around like you’re invisible. It can get pretty lonely.”

As he stared off into the distance, Raja rested his hands aimlessly on the guitar. While I’d gone through my own share of heartache, I knew that life for him couldn’t have been easy these past ten years. It never had to be this way, I thought. Then, holding my breath, I shot a nervous glance at Raja, who was still staring off into space.

“Raj,” I began. “Question.”

“Hm?” He focused back on me.

“Would you be open to staying here? With me?” I eyed him closely. “Just to help you get back on your feet.”

“Are you joking?” In shock, his hands curled roughly around the guitar. “Manny, I— I could never ask that of you. After everything—”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering,” I corrected.

As guilt began to erupt inside of him, Raja stammered hopelessly. “I-I… I don’t—”

Before he could continue, I placed my hand over his, covering his birthmark with my palm. We both looked at our hands, then back at one another. Under the warmth of my gaze, I sensed Raja’s hesitance begin to melt. He pulled his hand away, but seemed unhappy to do so.

“Let me think about it.” He said it so quietly, it was nearly a whisper. “If that’s cool with you.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Think about it for as long as you’d like.”

Considering the ringer I’d put Raja through today, after that, I dropped the issue for the rest of the night. There was the chance that he would leave in the early morning hours and disappear without a trace, but I trusted him not to. Maybe I was stupid to still trust him after all this time, but I did.

Later that night, when I’d finally been able to wind down enough to sleep, I had nightmares as I usually did. In the pitch black dark, I launched upright in my bed, heart racing and head filled with a relentless buzzing, trying not to throw up from the sudden motion of being startled awake.

When I became more cognizant of my surroundings, instead of being met with an isolating silence, I heard Raja in the living room, plucking away at the guitar as the storm outside continued to rage. The sound of Somewhere Over the Rainbow flowed through the hall and into my room, where it turned the four walls of my bedroom from claustrophobic to comforting.

I fell back asleep within a minute.