Wherever I May Roam

Wherever I May Roam
By Stephen Clark

Joe was roused from his sleep by the sound of his online instant messenger on his computer on the desk next to his bed where he lay limp, his body spread out over the sheets under his thick red comforter. Joe threw off the covers and stumbled from his warm cocoon of sheets and blankets and over to his computer, still half asleep. It was Daniel, his online “friend”, messaging him. He wasn’t sure what to call him, because they had been talking for over four months online but wasn’t sure exactly what the status of their relationship was. He didn’t want to be presumptuous and call him his boyfriend, and neither did Daniel, so their relationship remained unnamed and uncertain for the both of them. Daniel had messaged him one day while Joe was cooped up inside with the flu, and was rather delighted to meet him, especially with his mind swimming with germs at the time, it was something to help him through. Over the few months that they had been talking, both of them had fallen in love with each other, but neither wanted to admit it. It might have been different if they lived in the same city, or even the same state, but they didn’t. Daniel lived in Maryland and Joe in Michigan. Joe, only 24 years old, worked as a fireman in his town of Battle Creek, and Daniel was a 26 year-old off-duty Marine recently returned from the battlefields of Baghdad, now working for his father’s painting business.

Both of them lived in apartments that neither bothered to clean much; they lived the bachelor lifestyle of work, sleep, and eating fast food and whatever else that could be heated up in 10 minutes or less on the stove. But both of them signed online to talk to each other every night after returning home from whatever it was they did that day. Neither of them had much luck finding someone, mostly because they had such busy and hectic lives that they didn’t allow much for romance or meeting new people. So this was the way that they stayed in touch with each other; every night telling of the events of their day, listening intently to every detail as they typed to each other a world apart. They had exchanged phone numbers a couple months after meeting, and called each other every so often when they felt like it.

Joe read the message from Daniel that had popped up on his screen. “Hey
Joe, you awake?”
“Now I am”, Joe responded, typing slowly on his keyboard.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. I just felt like talking.”
“It’s no problem. I needed to get up anyway. I don’t need to be sleeping my whole day away.” The truth was Joe needed all the sleep he could get. For the past week or so he had been having trouble getting to sleep. His mind kept bothering him with thoughts of seeing, or rather not seeing Daniel. He didn’t know what to do anymore; it seemed every day was getting harder and harder to talk to him. He couldn’t help but think of what was lacking. “So how are you doing today?” Joe typed out halfheartedly.
“I’m doing ok. I got an early start today, decided to do some cooking in the kitchen.”
“What did you make?” Joe asked.
“Well,” Daniel said laughing to himself at his computer, “Other than a mess, I made lasagna, or some version of it.” Daniel could always make Joe laugh, and it made him happy to know someone so comfortable with being able to laugh at them selves from time to time. Joe just sat at his computer, his expression slowly coming down from a grinning laughter to a sort of dismal glare. He didn’t want to worry Daniel about him, so he didn’t tell him about his sleepless nights and the growing frustration over the distance that separated them by at least 500 miles and 9 hours (Joe had used Mapquest numerous times, fantasizing about going to see him; how he would get there, how long it would take, and so on.)
“Nice,” Joe responded. “I didn’t know you could cook, that’s so cool.” Joe always dreamed of having a man that could wine and dine him, and it made not being able to see him that much harder.
“Well, I haven’t done any cooking in a while. It’s been mainly McDonalds and instant ramen packets, but I decided to actually cook something up today. A man can only take so much sodium in one meal.”
Joe laughed again at Daniel’s message, and began to type, “I’ve been really bothered by something lately...I—” But he stopped typing, and quickly struck the delete key numerous times until his words were completely off the screen.

Later that night, Joe tossed and turned in his bed, struggling to get into a position he could fall asleep in. His mind was heavy with thought. A feeling of complete relaxation and tranquility suddenly washed over him and he began to fall asleep. The stage in his mind was set. There he was, Daniel, looking over at Joe from across a crowded room. Everyone in the room was dancing and laughing; a sea of evening gowns and black suits swaying back and forth like a tidal wave of snoody opera-goers. Daniel stood there across the room, smiling calmly with his eyes glimmering in the light from the enormous chandelier twinkling in the dimly lit room above them all. Joe struggled to break free of the crowd, but he was held back by the furious foot movement of the men and women that filled the room. He felt as if he was drifting farther and farther away from Daniel, and from himself. Every vain attempt to reach him left him weakened and battered; hopelessly lost in a sea of formal wear and elegant shoes clamoring to the right then to the left. It echoed in his head, pulsed through his body, and shot a feeling of complete helplessness all through out him. He allowed himself to become limp, and fall to the floor, watching a huge foot overhead looming its way onto him, ready to crush him into oblivion.

Joe shot up from his bed as quickly as he had drifted off to sleep. His eyes examined the all too familiar room, looking down at his bare chest covered with sweat. In an instant he realized what he had to do. He jumped out of bed and onto his computer. He opened his web browser and typed in “www.mapquest.com” and entered the directions to Bethesda, Maryland from Battle Creek, Michigan. He had spent many days wondering what it would be like to enter Daniel’s address into the website and print it up and just take off, and now he was. He hit the “print” button and grabbed the piece of paper from the printer before it was even done writing “Page 1 of 1” at the bottom of the page. He folded it up and put it inside his pocket and packed a bag full of random clothes he threw in his suitcase and some cash he grabbed from the jar on top of the refrigerator labeled “Rainy Day Fund”. He opened the front door and got inside his gold-colored Chevy Lumina and pulled out of the driveway and headed for the highway.

As he made the turn onto I-70 East, now many miles from home, it began sinking in what he had done. He had left his apartment which he had not been away from for more than one day since he moved in a year ago, and he had also abandoned his job. What would his boss think? What would his pet turtle do for food while he was gone? All these questions circled around his head in a cyclonic spiral that blurred his vision slightly. Suddenly a violent noise from the engine broke the spiral and the car began sputtering and Joe had no choice but to pull his car to the side of the road. After inspecting the car thoroughly (this meaning popping the hood, staring at the engine for a moment, and scratching his head), he immediately reached for his cell phone. He pulled it out of its small black leather case and began entering the numbers that would connect him to the Nextel Road-Side car service.
“Nextel Road-Side,” the scruffy mechanic’s voice said.
“Yeah, my car just broke down on I-70 East in Bermont, Maryland…what’s the closest station you have that could get to me?”
“Bermont…well let’s see,” Joe could hear the man on the other end typing on a computer, “No, doesn’t look like there is one near Bermont, but there’s one about 30 miles south that could get to you in a few hours. We’re pretty over-run with calls tonight, so that’s the soonest we could be out there.”
“Are you sure that’s the closest one?” Joe said with a deep sigh.
“Sure as shoot,” the mechanic replied.
Joe began to grumble into the phone with complaints about his situation, but stopped when he realized what he had to do next. “Fine, send someone out here as soon as you can. And tow it to the nearest station.” Joe gave the man the information for his car and let himself fall back against the driver’s side window.
“Will do” said the mechanic, then a click that left him completely alone, standing out in the middle of nowhere clutching his phone.

Joe sighed again and looked down for a moment, then took the keys out of the ignition, snatched up his cell phone and began walking. He would make it to see Daniel if his life depended on it. He was only roughly thirty-five miles away from Bethesda and he wasn’t about to be stopped by some car trouble. As he began to walk along the side of the highway, it started raining. At first it drizzled, then out of nowhere began to pour down on him so hard it stung his back and soaked his clothes down to the bone. He looked up at the rising ground next to him that led to a service road and there he noticed a bar sitting in the pouring rain, lazy and indifferent to the world around it. It was late and he could use a drink after what had just happened. He climbed up the steep hill and looked up at the sign of the bar. In glowing rainbow colored letters it read “Queer as Day”. At least there was some twisted form of luck so far that night. He could at least have a drink with his own kind of people, and relax for a moment before trudging off into the soaking wet night.

He entered the bar, shaking off his clothes like a wet dog coming in from the rain. He pulled up a seat next to a younger looking man, mid twenties, tall, long brown hair parted to one side of his face. “Buy you a drink?” the handsome stranger sitting next to him offered.
“Sure,” Joe said without the slightest bit of reluctance. He needed it.
“What brings you out here from the rain like this? Most guys are at home cuddling with their boyfriends or whatever.” It was clear this stranger was quite familiar with the bar scene, and quite consumed in it as well.
“My car broke down about half a mile back. I drove here from Michigan to see someone.”
“Not your night, is it?” the stranger said, gulping down the rest of his beer.
“Not really” said Joe, grabbing his drink up from the table and slamming it down his throat. He could feel the burn of the alcohol, but it was a warm sensation that was strangely welcomed just then.
“So what you gonna do now?”
“Walk.” Joe said plainly. “No other choice. Only thirty-five more miles to go.”
The stranger’s face suddenly darted up from the bar. “Are you crazy? That’s too far to walk from here, especially in the rain. Why don’t we get in my car and I can drive you back to my place? I guarantee I’m better than whoever you’re going to see” he said, moving his hand down Joe’s leg.
“Get the hell off me!” Joe said throwing his arm off him, nearly toppling the stranger over in his bar stool.
“Hey, son,” an older looking black man standing a few feet behind him at a pool table holding a stick said. “Where you headed? We can take you as far as we’re going.”
“That’s great” Joe said without hesitation, moving away from the stranger who was still dazed from Joe’s violent retort to the man’s come-on. Joe waited outside the bar for the man to come out, but instead saw a group of men appeared outside the bar, all holding large black cases which Joe suspected to be some sort of instruments.
“We’re The Jazz Brothers of Maryland” the man introduced himself and the rest of the group, giving Joe a series of hand waves and shakes. “We’re traveling to our next gig down the road a ways, hop in the van.”
Joe got in the van and headed down the road with the group of traveling musicians. They laughed and shared stories in the front seats, slapping each other on the backs and eagerly discussed their next performance. They passed a seemingly endless landscape of trees and wide open fields with the occasional cow or other farm animal that made Joe drowsy to look at. His head tilted sideways against the long glass window and he began to fall asleep, slipping into the second dream of that night.
He saw Daniel yet again, only this time he was much closer than before. Joe reached out his hand to touch Daniel’s, and Daniel in turn held on to Joe’s. They embraced each other, holding each other tightly, not wanting to ever let go of the perfect moment they were sharing, if even only a dream. Joe started to cry, his eyes filled to the brim with tears, then an overflow of salty drops came flowing down his face. The moment both of them had often dreamt about, both asleep and awake, but had never been spoken, seemed more and more close to reality as he tossed and turned in the van bumping and tumbling against the pot-hole filled country road they traveled on.

Suddenly the van came to a stop and Joe was abruptly awakened by the man driving when he turned around and said, “This is it, last stop. Now get out.” He chuckled slightly and winked at Joe.
Joe rubbed his eyes and gave a half-smile. “Hey guys, what city is this?”
“Bethesda, Maryland sonny” the one sitting right in front of him said.
Joe shot the man a look of absolute rapture. “Thanks so much guys! Thanks! I owe you guys one.”
“Just keep doing your thing man” one of the younger musicians called from the back giving a chuckle as the rest of them waved Joe off, whooping and cheering then slammed the door shut and continued down the road to the night club they were scheduled to perform at. Joe was so close to the apartment he could feel it; the tension growing, his mind filling with anticipation, every muscle in his body began to tighten. Joe looked up at one of the street signs on a corner and saw the intersection of “Kent” and “Lanewood”. He knew he was close, but he didn’t think he was that close. He then looked up at the sky and saw an ominous building towering over him and the rest of the city. It was the Luxberry Apartments, where Daniel lived.
Walking down the few blocks that lead to the apartment building was hell for him. Thoughts of what to say or do came racing in and out of his head, making his palms sweat and his eyes dart back and forth with anxious anxiety. Tall black old-fashioned street lamps that lined the endless stretch of pavement and trees that Joe walked along, trying to find some scrap of logic in his current situation. But logic, he reasoned, was not part of his journey. It was a journey of passion and impatience and purpose. And as he looked up to the sky once more at the tall building in front of him, that purpose rung all through out him, from his ears to down in his throat and finally to his heart where a warm sensation buzzed silently then settled.
He quickly ran into the building, pushed past a drunken man fumbling down the stairs, and bolted up 3 flights, completely ignoring the elevator sitting ignored at the bottom floor. He couldn’t sit still in such a small space even if he wanted to anyway. His frantic movement and panicked breathing came to a sudden halt when he reached his door in the narrow hallway, number Thirty Seven.

Joe knocked lightly on the door, trying to control the shaking of his hands and the nervous look in his eyes. The door slowly opened and there stood in the doorway someone Joe had not at all anticipated to be there.
“Can I help you?” the man standing in the doorway said to Joe.
“I…uh…” Joe fumbled for a coherent sentence. “I’m looking for Daniel. Who are you?”
“I’m his roommate, John.” Daniel had never mentioned a roommate before, Joe thought to himself. “Daniel was put back on active duty. He left for Iraq a few hours ago.”
For a moment Joe didn’t understand the words coming out of this strange person’s mouth. He could not comprehend any alternative to his perfectly mapped out plan of falling into Daniel’s arms and embracing him the way he had so often pictured it in his dreams. Joe slowly turned around, and headed back in the other direction, leaving the unanticipated John in wonder and leaving Joe with absolutely nothing.

When Joe finally returned home after getting his car back and making the long, but surprisingly numb journey back, he sat down at his computer. He opened his web browser like always, and went to check his email. It was overflowed with emails offering free test trial supplements to enlarge and decrease any part of the body one may wish, but in the sea of junk mail that filled his inbox, there was an email with the subject heading “Read Me”. It was a bit of an odd subject, but once he recognized the sender he immediately clicked on it. His eyes scanned throw each sentence and by the end of the message, there was a slight smile on Joe’s face, with just a trace of sadness. The email read as follows:

Dear Joe,

I’m writing you from my apartment, the last of it I will be seeing for I don’t even know how long. I got the call from my superior officer an hour ago, and the first thing I thought of was you. I’m going back to serve in Iraq, over in Baghdad again. I don’t know how long I will be gone, if there will be any way to contact you from there, or even if I will return, but know this Joe: I love you. I love you no matter what I’m doing or where I am. I care about you more than anyone. I will always be thinking of you, wherever I am, wherever I may roam.

Love, Daniel