his khakis from sitting on the taxi’s roof—they head out.
The apartment building is only a few blocks from Inwood Hill Park. The park is gigantic, Manny remembers seeing on a map somewhere. (He seems to have no trouble remembering general facts, he notes clinically. Only things specific to his own life elude him.) It’s also the last untouched bit of an old-growth forest that once covered the entire island of Manhattan. It mostly looks like any other park on first impression—paved pathways, ironwork fences, benches, tennis courts, and the occasional dog walker complete with leashed, yapping coterie. Surprisingly empty, although that’s likely a factor of it being the middle of the day on a weekday, when most people are at work or school. Past the manicured bit of mowed lawn and decorative trees, Manny beholds a forested hill rising above all, covered in a dense tangle of trees and shrubs that clearly have never seen a backhoe or road grader. He stares at this, astounded that it exists less than five miles from the lights and bluster of Broadway, while Bel inhales, his eyes shut in palpable bliss.
“Ah, this is why I wanted to live up here—well, that and the fact that I couldn’t afford anywhere else on the island.” He grins at Manny and resumes walking down the path; Manny does, too, turning to take in the sights. “Worse than London proper, this place. But then I read about this, a forest in the middle of the bloody city, and knew it was right for me. Spent a couple of summers up at Hackfall Wood in North Yorkshire back when I was a sprog. Near my grandmother’s house.” His face falls a little, and something in his tone flattens. “Course, she disowned me when I turned out to be a bloke-in-progress instead of a girl, so I haven’t been back for ages.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Manny says, and then he registers more than the pain in the words. He blinks at Bel in his surprise. He’s got the sense not to say anything, but Bel catches the glance, and his expression immediately goes neutral.
“Forgot that, too, then? This where you suddenly recall you don’t really want to live with a trans fellow after all?”
“I—” Then Manny realizes how his amnesia story must sound. He can’t think of anything to offer except honesty. “I did forget. But if I wanted out, I’d have made up a better lie than this one.”
Well, way to impress his roommate with his pathological tendencies. But the statement surprises Bel into a laugh, though there’s still a bitter edge to it. He does relax, just a little. “Suppose that’s true enough. And you do seem different, somehow, from the chap I met on Skype last month.”
Manny tries not to tense. He focuses on the asphalt beneath their feet as they walk. “Oh?”
“Yeah. Hard to say how.” Bel shrugs. “To be honest, I was a bit worried about you. You seemed nice enough, but there was, hmm, an edge to you. Back home, a lot of queer cis blokes are just as ready to kick my arse as the straights, yeah? And something about you felt like an arse-kicker extraordinaire. But you said we weren’t going to have a problem, and I wasn’t spoiled for choice, so…” He sighs.
Oh. “We aren’t going to have a problem,” Manny says again, as reassuringly as he can. “At least, not about that. You put dirty socks in the fridge, though, and all bets are off.”
Bel laughs again, and just like that the air is cleared. “I’ll take care with my socks, then. No promises on the hats.”
They both fall silent as ambulances race past the entrance of the park. They’re pretty far along the walking path by now, but three ambulances in full siren aren’t going to be ignorable no matter how thick the blanket of trees surrounding them. It’s still Manhattan, after all. Bel grimaces in their wake. “Heard they were calling in emergency personnel from the whole, what do you call it? Tri-state area? for this mess. God, I can’t wait to see which entire ethnic group they’re going to scapegoat in the wake of this one.”
“Maybe it’s a white guy. Again.”
“A ‘lone wolf’ with mental health issues, right!” Bel sigh-laughs. “Maybe. Hopefully, so they won’t use it as an excuse for more hate crimes or new wars or any of that. Fuck, what a thing to hope for.”
Manny nods, and there’s nothing good either of them