North and Shaw Out of Office - Gregory Ashe Page 0,38

“I’ll show you.”

North’s upper lip curled back in a snarl

“Fine,” Shaw said, drawing back his hands in surrender. “But it’s—”

“I know, Shaw. I like my way better.”

Outside, the clouds were drifting east, clearing out. The sky was perfect, autumn blue. They had raked the leaves from the big oak tree yesterday, and they could take turns jumping into the pile.

“I guess playing in the leaves is stupid,” Shaw said. “At our age, I mean.”

“Uh huh.”

A show about American-made cardigans. A show about guys picking through junk in storage lockers. A show about very young people getting cosmetic surgery.

“I want a glass of water.” The words came from nowhere, like magic, and then, a plan: Shaw just had to get North up and moving; he just had to break the spell.

A show about Cleopatra’s reign. A show about long-distance truckers. A show where two guys rehashed sports.

“North.”

A standup comic.

“North.”

A hurricane raining alligators on an unsuspecting Miami. He clicked back to the standup. And then, more slowly, back to the sports guys.

“North?”

“Huh?”

“I’d like a glass of water, please.”

This broke North’s concentration long enough for him to glance at Shaw, a single, vertical furrow between his eyebrows, before he shook his head and looked back at the TV.

“North.”

“You know where the glasses are.”

“North!”

Back to the standup. “Did you break a leg?”

“No.”

Back to the sports guys. “Did you break both arms?”

“No.”

North shrugged. “Then you know where the glasses are.”

Shaw scooted along the sofa until he was pressed against North; North was trying to ignore him, his gaze focused on the television, but he did break character long enough to roll his eyes.

“I’d get you a glass of water.”

The TV clicked back to the hurricane-and-alligators show.

“North, did you hear me? I’d get you a glass of water if you asked for one. Or if you wanted something else, if you wanted a beer or a soda, I’d get you that.”

“We don’t have any soda because you drink it all.”

“I’d walk to the store to get you some. I’d put on my shoes and walk to Walgreens and get you some.”

“It’s too expensive at Walgreens. You should go to Family Dollar.”

“North, you’re not paying attention.” Shaw shifted, putting his face in front of North’s, blocking the TV. “All I’m asking for is a glass of water. I’d get you a glass of water.”

For a moment, North’s gaze refocused on Shaw, and then he smiled gently. “Baby, that’s really sweet. Thank you.” Then he put his hand on the side of Shaw’s head and slowly, irresistibly, forced him out of his line of sight. “A glass of water sounds nice right now. And while you’re in there, get one for yourself too.”

Shaw overplayed the moment, rocking back as though North had pushed him much harder, and he spilled off the sofa and hit the floor. A crash ran through the duplex, and the puppy leaped up off his bed, hopped onto the floor, and stared at both of them. Then he began to bark wildly.

“See what you did?” North said.

“I think I broke my leg,” Shaw moaned. “And my arms. Both of them.”

“Oh for the love of fuck,” North said. He was fighting a smile; he was losing pretty badly. He dropped the remote on the sofa. Then he scooped up Shaw and threw him over one shoulder.

“North, stop. Your shoulder—”

“Yeah, well, you should have thought about that earlier.”

They were passing through the kitchen, toward the back door. “No, stop. Put me down. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“That’s really kind.” The door opened; the crisp air rushed in, licking Shaw’s bare feet. Slung over North’s shoulder, Shaw could only watch the duplex shrink as North carried him outside. The puppy had followed them to the door, still barking furiously. “Thank you for worrying about that.”

“North, what are you doing? This is crazy. What are you—”

Shaw’s stomach dropped as North launched him into the air. For a moment, Shaw was flying, the air smelling like hops and cinnamon, and then he bombed onto the leaf pile. Dry leaves flew up around him, filling his nose with their powdery scent, crinkling under his weight like an explosion.

A second explosion followed an instant later as North dropped onto the pile, landing with an arm across Shaw’s chest and dragging Shaw toward him, peppering his face and neck with kisses.

“You’re insane,” Shaw said, trying to wriggle away. “You’re crazy.”

“Next time you want to play in the leaves,” North said with a mock growl, tugging on Shaw’s shirt as he