Day was praying.
Right now.
Goldie didn’t get why Day decided right this very second was a good time to chat with God, and he was shocked when he heard Dayspeak.
“Dear God,” Day whispered, his voice husky and much deeper than Goldie would have expected, “I don’t know how to tell my angel that I’m not supposed to talk to him. I’m not supposed to talk to anyone. I can only talk to You. Father says that’s okay. Maybe this is sort of like fibbing, but—” He peeked up at Goldie. “—I don’t want my angel to hate me.” His eyes darted away. “I just… I just want him to know that I don’t want to hurt him. I’m just trying to understand.”
“Understand what?” Goldie said quietly. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to pretend that he didn’t hear Day or not, but he desperately wanted some answers.
“I need to understand why I can hear him,” Day whispered. “Why does he speak as an angel does when the world is drowning in filth? Why does he sound like a thunderstorm and the wind in the trees? I don’t know, a-and I’m afraid it’s a trick to distract me from my mission. I’ve never felt like this before, and I’m really, really worried it’s not real. He seems very nice, likereallynice, and I know he wants to help me. But I don’t know how. I don’t know why he’s here. Please. Please help me understand, Lord.”
Day paused, inhaling shakily, and his eyes clouded with tears. He squeezed his hands together so tightly that his knuckles turned white, adding sadly, “I have been so lonely since You took Father away. I miss him every day. I want this to be a gift from You. Please,pleaselet it be a gift. I’ve tried to be so good, but it’s getting harder…” He sighed. “In Your holy name, I pray for your guidance to keep me on a good and righteous path. Amen.”
Goldie had listened intently, and he was even more confused than he was before. He didn’t have a clue what Day was talking about, but the pain in his eyes was real enough. Goldie had been inside the ring with dozens of guys who couldn’t sell a chest chop and the rare few who could have sold sulfur to the Devil.
Day’s anguish was definitely genuine but only raised more questions.
First of all, there was no doubt the poor young man was insane.
Praying and asking for Goldie to be his gift? Hearing thunderstorms and wind? And what mission exactly was Day on that kept him from talking when he definitely had the ability to? Had he taken a vow of fucking silence?
Growing up gay in a conservative religious household had left Goldie unimpressed with faith, and he wasn’t familiar enough to speculate what particular denomination Day might be a member of.
Seven Day Druggists? Eastern Orthodox Kidnappers?
Dammit.
Now Goldie had to piss.
Day was still kneeling beside the bed, smiling sweetly and very pleased with himself for finding what was apparently a loophole in his not-speaking deal.
“So, uh.” Goldie cleared his throat for much longer than he needed to, his mind racing for what he was supposed to say in response to Day’s prayer. “That’s… nice.”
Day crawled back up on the bed to sit beside Goldie.
“You, uh…” Goldie cleared his throat again. He suddenly understood how gazelles felt when lions were creeping in on them. “You can’t hear… other people?”
Day shook his head.
“But you can hear me?”
Day nodded, grinning.
“Okay. That’s nice. Maybe that means I’m special somehow?”
Day shrugged.
“Special enough that you might be willing to let me out of these cuffs?”
Day’s eyes narrowed, and that jumpy gazelle feeling was back.
“Look, I need to use the bathroom,” Goldie said, hoping the mention of bodily functions might stir Day into releasing him. “Please. I promise I’m not gonna kick you out or anything. I won’t even call the cops, I swear. I still want to help you.” He was surprised how much he meant that. “You need help, right?”
Day’s expression was uncertain, and he glanced over Goldie’s face warily as if searching it for any sign of deceit. He nodded slowly.
“Then let me try to help you,” Goldie pleaded, “and you can help me by letting me go to the bathroom.”
Day fidgeted, and he held up one finger and then two. He seemed to be asking a question.
