The Son of Every Man

Chapter 3.1

Gabe could already make out the frame of the doorway to the men's room, but as the automatic motion of his legs bore him closer, he knew something was wrong. He arrived within ten feet of it and saw that the door was completely gone, obliterated. No light at all came from within. In spite of this, for reasons he could not comprehend, he wanted to walk through anyway, coaxed into a darkness so complete that even light from the freshest of fluorescent bulbs did not dare trespass. There was something so perfect about this black, this void, so minimal and sterile among its surroundings.

But then an odd clattering noise hooked into his right ear. He turned toward it, seeing, to his shock, that the barricade preventing access to the abandoned platform had vanished, every last brick removed, carried off. How had he not noticed until now? The floor and walls showed only faint scarring; otherwise it may as well have never existed. He stepped cautiously beyond, moving toward the sound, approaching the ghostly platform itself, cast in gloomy incandescence. On the wall above the rail trench, lettering peeked from beneath the grime in antiquated, blood-red script: Odin Line - Central. He locked his eyes on the words, emerging from the dusty tube, halting at the center of the cavern.

He heard his own voice shout across the platform: "What do you want?"

Immediately, the dry rasp of a reply landed near the base of his skull—an occipital ache that pulsed at each syllable. "I want nothing," it told him. "I have already taken her."

"What?"

"Go home," it said. "See that I have taken her."

Gabe bolted toward the platform's exit, reentered the tiled hallway. He continued steadily over the fading scars of the barricade, past the closed door to the men's room. Finally, he remerged with foot traffic in the larger corridor. He had captured something back at that forgotten place, though, right as he turned to leave: a glimpse of the gaunt, grinning figure down in the trench, standing on powder-white femurs at the mouth of the single-width tunnel, through which the last of the Odin Line trains made its final pass so many years ago.

;-;

Gabe was twelve years old when they first met. His parents had invited the tall, muscular man over for dinner, as well as the man's girlfriend, Lydia, whom his father described as very beautiful and quiet white girl. Up until that time, Gabe had known Eddie only as a deep voice that called their home on occasion, asking to speak to his father. As the couple arrived, that same voice had boomed through the gap in Gabe's bedroom door. Half an hour later, when it dared to utter Gabe's name, Marco had replied, "He's in his room. Quiet kid, these days. Likes to keep to himself." Then his father had called for him. Gabe had reluctantly joined them.

Eddie was younger than Gabe's father. His distinctive appearance had captivated Gabe: Such a powerful physique felt infinitely distant from his own pitiful pubescence, impossible, forever unattainable. And of course there were Eddie's other physical qualities: his face and arms so deeply tanned, that certain origin of his features so transparent—so unapologetically Vietnamese. Gabe had never seen anything like it. Eddie displayed a coercive fullness of his ethnicity, the very same background to which Gabe was only half-entitled, and for the first time in his life, Gabe had longed for all of it, so that he could hope to one day wear it as beautifully.

It was only as Eddie casually stroked the back of his girlfriend's hand that Gabe had noticed how distinctly attractive she was. Her frame was slight, especially next to Eddie; her hair, a pale golden color, parted from one side and fell below her shoulders, unlike the popular styles of the time. When she smiled it was bright and genuine, showing off perfectly white teeth. As their hands touched, Gabe was scandalized that two people of such stark visual dissimilarity could be together in that way. While his wonder at this aspect would eventually fade, his bewilderment at Eddie's imposing physical form would linger for some time.

Gabe's mother had outdone herself in anticipation of rare visitors. Once they were seated in the dining room, she presented them all with hot, oily spring rolls, grilled pork and pickled vegetables over rice noodles; there was also cold soba, lemongrass shrimp, and, near the end, sweet and milky iced coffee. Gabe ate everything greedily, jealous that only Eddie's presence justified such an extravagant meal. Over the coffee, Gabe's father had offered Eddie the opportunity of a business partnership. Eddie had acted surprised and deeply flattered, accepting immediately.

After dinner, they had retired to the living room for drinks, and Gabe was dismissed. An hour or two later, Eddie and Lydia left for home. Gabe's father had gone out onto the balcony to smoke. Gabe helped clean up in the kitchen, scrubbing grease splatters from the stovetop and side of the microwave.

His mother spoke slowly to him. She was not sober. "Thank you, Gabriel. You were very polite to Eddie tonight. Eddie is a very important person to our family."

He winced with each slur in her voice.

"No matter who you end up to be, you must know how proud I am of you. You are strong and you are also capable. If you are ever in a place where no one is around to remind you of that, you must tell it to yourself, understand?"

He nodded.

The metallic wailing of the garbage disposal started up. His father reentered from the balcony carrying the crisp scent of Marlboros.

;-;