notes/disclaimers
Halloween SnapShot
by Karen
"So, Frase. You sure? You sure you don't wanna go?"
"Yes. Positive. Thank you kindly, Ray."
"It sounds like it's gonna be a great party ..."
"It's fine, Ray. Really. In any event, I do have to be at the Consulate early
tomorrow. Staying up late into the early hours of the morning will only make
me less than able for the Commerce Luncheon."
"So the Ice Queen has you catering now. Folding napkins, carving the ice
moose, all that bullsh ..."
"Now, Ray. My role is more than that. There's security, the speeches ..."
"Whatever, Frase. Sounds like it's gonna be a most excellent party," Ray
said as he pulled the GTO in front of the Consulate.
"Thank you kindly, Ray. And you have a wonderful time at the precinct's
Halloween Party tonight."
"Will do, " Ray said as Fraser exited the car. "Hey, Frazoor."
The Canadian looked through the car window at his friend. "Yes, Ray?"
"Remember ... it's fork on the left, knife and spoon on the right," Ray
laughed as the GTO pulled away from the curb.
It was a small dinner of a fried pork chop and salad that he and Diefenbaker
shared that evening. Dishes washed and dried, he changed into dungarees and a
flannel shirt.
In deference to the holiday, he placed a papier mache ghost inside his
window. Inspector Thatcher disapproved of any Halloween decoration for the
Consulate; he'd take the ghost down before her arrival in the morning. A
small bowl of wrapped paper candies and apples sat by the door for any
children who would knock for treats.
As evening fell, he smiled as costumed children filled the streets as
witches, goblins, animals, and cartoon characters. Ushered door-to-door by
parents, none rang the Consulate bell. Despite keeping the outside lighting
on -- something Ray Vecchio told him was necessary -- indicating that he was
'game', no one knocked.
*Perhaps it's the austerity of the building,* Fraser wondered as he watched
the children flock to lighted and decorated houses. Puzzled, he wished Ray
Vecchio were here. Ray would explain it to him. He had obviously missed some
rather important nuance to the Halloween tradition.
The witches and ghosts that ran in the streets got less and less, and Fraser
realized that the evening had ended, the children were home. Turning the
outside lights off, he stood in the darkness, and pressed his palms to eyes,
trying to stop his tears. His heart ached from more than just his failed
Halloween celebration.
Ray.
His beloved Ray. How he missed him.
He whispered in the dark. "Ray, I love you. I miss you. Please come back to
me. You are my love, my life. Please come back."
He ran to his room and got his leather jacket. There was some place he needed
to be.
Stepping into the rented garage that cost him $100.00 month, he fumbled in
the darkness for the string that would turn the light on. Electricity coursed
through the wire and into the bare bulb, lighting the interior.
A tinny radio, broken and left by some previous garage owner, sat on a shelf.
It was somehow connected to the same switch that powered the light on. The on
and off switches were missing as was the volume button. When the light was
on, so was radio.
His lover's Riv glowed in the light.
It took Fraser four months and $8,000.00 to find a replacement car.
Originally maroon, he had it repainted hunter green and towed here. As
necessary, he replaced the missing parts bit by bit. The car was waxed to a
flawless shine, as was the chrome. He had the interior reupholstered to match
the car's exterior color -- as was Ray's first and second Riv.
When Ray came home, he hoped he would accept this Riv. And he hoped he would
accept him back and want him back. And on nights like tonight, when he was
especially lonely, he come to the garage and look at the Riv. And remember.
A song played on the radio.
... I know a place ... where I can go, when I'm lonely ... into your arms ...
oh into your arms I can go ...
He remember Ray's arms around him, holding him tight and safe, warming him,
melting the cold that had encased his heart. He'd remember his name floating
softly on Ray's breath as he called him 'Benny' -- the only person in the
history of his life to do so. He'd remember the magnificent green eyes, the
broad shoulders and the ample strength that took care of so many, since his
lover was aged twelve. He'd remember the wonderful man that was his lover.
He cried.