Across Acheron

Session 3

There are some things that are hard to remember and some things that you wish you could forget. I don’t really remember the days when nothing happened; there were too many of those. I suppose all we did was stick to our routine of working out in Cillian’s little corn field (he sold the corn at some farmer’s market) while burning in the midsummer sun, then going down to the basement and painting over the walls with more black.

There was a day that I remember quite well, though, and I kind of wish I could forget it. I finished helping Cillian out in the field and was undressing in my room to take a shower when Keenan walked in. I didn’t make a big deal out of it since he had seen me naked many times. Nothing kinky like that, though. Keenan liked walking in whenever he wanted to, whether I was naked or not. I just got tired of telling him to get out.

Keenan was the type of person who made you stop worrying about things even though your life was going down south. He knew the right times to be around and the right times to disappear at random. When he was around, he made it worthwhile. I think I had been stuck with them for about four weeks by the time I finally got comfortable around him. I don’t know how it happened, really. I guess we were carved out of the same wood or something.

Anyway, Keenan walked in all nonchalant and sat on my damn bed, which I had just made minutes ago. I stared at him for a while; he was glowing. I don’t mean that metaphoric glowing—the bastard looked like the fucking sun. I’m not kidding. I swear fireflies were under his skin or something.

Keenan caught me staring at him. He looked down at his skin before swearing under his breath. Suddenly, he stopped shimmering. His hair and skin dulled as if nothing had happened.

It’s just your imagination, I thought to myself, looking away from him as quickly as possible. Things like that do not happen in life. It’s your imagination. Your eyes are playing tricks on you.

“Hey, look at me,” Keenan called, begging for my attention. I ignored him, or at least I tried to. I knew he was trying to get my mind off of what I saw, or what I didn’t see, but I was too busy freaking out about it. My palms got all sweaty all of a sudden. I wanted to run away; I was even thinking of possible escape routes. I didn’t even care where I’d end up; I’d happily steal my way into living if I had to. But I was too much of a coward to try. I still am, to be honest.

“Jack.”

I swear to God, the sound of my name coming from Keenan’s mouth sent goose bumps across my entire body. He only called my name on special occasions; especially when he wanted me to do something for him like cover dinner. But the way he called me that evening implied that he needed something more than getting off of dinner duty for a night, but I just didn’t know what.

“I-I didn’t see anything, I swear,” I blurted out, my words tumbling over each other foolishly. “I won’t ask questions. I know I shouldn’t ask questions." I didn't stop there, though. "I really want to leave this place, but I don’t even know how to start. So until I do, just don’t hit me or kill me or—”

“Jack.”

He stretched out the ‘a’ like a song. Everything sounded like a song coming from Keenan. His voice was a melody of its own, I'm not kidding you. Anyway, I finally turned to keep him from calling my name again. His lean body was relaxed on the bed as he gave me a bright smile.

“I went out last night,” said Keenan.

His calm voice seemed to unravel my nerves. I was safe, for now. All I had to do was blame it on my imagination and never speak of it again. That’s how I managed to live for four weeks straight.