The Anomaly's Enigma

“Gerard, I’m so sorry about all of this,” Frank says the instant we step into the hotel room. It smells like a hotel room, like stale air and clean linens, but I honestly hate it. I can’t stand the way everything seems so boring. There’s one of those closet sized bathrooms with the oddly yellow lighting tucked away in the corner next to the door, and those ugly starch stiff beds with ugly patterns against the wall. The air conditioner is already turned on and making a canned sound like a tin can hitting against something hard.

“It’s not your fault, Frank,” I say. Mikey walks over to the bed next to the air conditioner, and he lounges across it like he’s about to pass out. He kind of looks like he’s about to do snow angels, except he is way too exhausted to move even his limbs.

“No, Frank, you’re not the one who burned the building down. That was really very rude. Who sets things on fire? Rude,” Mikey states.

“Whoever this guy is, he’s a psychopath,” I say, and Mikey nods.

“No, he’s justified,” Frank says.

“What?” I ask, looking at him.

“Gerard, think about it. Whoever this person is that’s trying to kill us, it’s almost definitely my fault. Who am I kidding, it is my fault.”

“No it’s not,” Mikey says, pulling himself up into a sitting position, and looking at Frank with a raised eyebrow.

“Well this person wants revenge. I don’t even blame them! I probably killed someone they loved. I might have killed their daughter, son, brother, wife or whoever else. I killed that person, and it’s completely fair that they’d want me dead. I’d want me dead.”

“Uh, well, I think they kind of want me dead too,” I say, “I mean, why else would they have been victimizing me and sending me all the signs?”

“Well it’s to get back at me, isn’t it? You’re the love of my life, and I shot whoever this guy loved, so they’re going to kill you because they know it’d hurt me more to lose you than to die. And oh god are they right. They’re so unbelievably right it’s not even fathomable. I couldn’t live without you! And if Mikey got hurt because of me, I don’t even know what I’d do. You two are the best things in my life. You’re the only people I care about. You’re it! I don’t have anyone else, and without you, my life would be miserable.”

“That doesn’t make any of this your fault,” Mikey says, “like c’mon, I got angry at this guy who stood in front of me in line and bought the last blueberry muffin, but I ain’t looking for his head on a pike.”

“I think murder is a little different then muffins, Mikes,” Frank says, critically.

“You can blame yourself all you want, but that doesn’t make it any truer. I could tell you that I believe trees are just giant broccoli but that doesn’t automatically define it as being the truth.”

“It’s just... you know, I thought, I honestly thought, that all the shit I put us through last time would be over. I thought that I’d finally gotten you two safe, and I thought putting my past behind me could be possible. I just thought that hey, maybe I could be happy and make someone’s life a little better, and that maybe everything would work out. Maybe I wouldn’t end up being dragged away by the cops and put away forever. I just thought that it could all finally be over, but I’m so fucking stupid,” Frank says.

“You’re not stupid,” I say.

“Yeah, I fucking am. I’ve ruined your life once again. First I don’t believe you when you tell me we’re going to be killed and then I almost kill us again. I can’t believe this is all happening.”

“Well, it is and you’re here, I’m here, Mikey’s here, so I guess you’re just going to have to suck it up, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?” Frank asks.

“I mean that you blaming yourself is exactly what happened last time. You remember, of course you do, you were going to ruin my fucking life when you just had to be all high and mighty, telling me that you couldn’t live without me and all that other bullshit, and I thought you were being overly altruistic back then, and you’re doing it again. Frank, fuck being selfless, okay? I know I’m not supposed to say this, I know it’s not the politically correct thing to say, and I know I’m a bad person for admitting to it, but I’d rather anyone in the world died as long as it wasn’t you or Mikey. If I had to choose between everyone on this entire planet dying but saving you, or the opposite, I would save you. I don’t care, okay? I know how bad that sounds, but like, fuck it, I’m selfish!”

“Gerard-” Frank starts.

“No, Frank, I don’t give a fuck. I would let someone else die if it meant you stayed alive, and I know that sounds wrong, but if I said otherwise I’d be lying, so yeah, I’m glad you’re alive right now. I’m glad we’re together right now. I’m happy that you were a fucking assassin and that’s how we got here, because I don’t care! I know people are dead, but me feeling bad about it isn’t going to get them to rise from their graves. It’s not! Okay? They’re dead, so, you know what, I feel bad for their families, I really do, it’s a bummer that they’re dead, but all you ever did, all you ever did to them was your job. They’d be dead anyway, and you very well might’ve been too. Frank, the point is that this is not your fault,” I say, looking at him.

Mikey’s looking at the two of us uncomfortably and I know he’s wishing there was more than one room in this hotel room right about now. There’s only a bathroom and that probably wouldn’t be any less awkward a place to hide because I know he’d still be able to hear us, but sometimes people get angry and there’s really nothing that can be done about that.

“It is my fault, Gerard,” Frank says.

“No, you know whose fault it is? It’s Banks. It’s him, and it’s all those other stuffy rich guys who can’t solve their problems without murdering people. You never did a fucking thing wrong, okay? The people you killed were dead before you got to them. Their graves had been dug, the x’s on those people’s backs were there whether it was you doing the killing or not, and you should be able to accept that. Frank, you never killed anyone out of malice, and that’s what makes you a good person.”

“But I pulled the trigger,” Frank says. “I pulled the trigger. I never went to the police with the information I had. I knew those people would die, I had the knowledge of a crime, and I never reported a damn thing. I took people’s money. I let them use me as a killing machine for some bits of paper.”

“There are people who work for prisons and they’ve had to kill people on death row, but we never blame them for being murderers do we? They are the same as you. You’re no different from a guy who gives a prisoner a lethal injection.”

Frank shakes his head, “it’s different, we both know it is.”

“No it’s not!” I shout, angrily.

“Calm down the both of you!” Mikey interrupts. Excuse me, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but someone tried to burn us alive tonight, and then shot at us, so you know what, the moral implications of what’s happened in the past that can’t be taken back, do not concern me, or you, or anybody right now. It’s not something I really give a shit about. Those people you killed Frank, they’re dead. I have to agree with Gee there, because they are dead. They are not coming back. You feeling guilty about it changes nothing. Nothing at all!”

“You don’t understand,” Frank sighs, walking over to one of the beds and sitting down, putting his face in his hands. “You have no idea what it feels like to know that you’re a bad person. It’s like this thing in your gut, that keeps twisting and burning at your core, and it hurts. It feels like hell. I look in the mirror, and I see a murderer. I hear my own voice, I hear a murderer. I’ve killed people, and I know that regretting that doesn’t change what’s been done, but it sure as hell doesn’t help any to realize I can’t take it back. Like, congratulations, you’re able to understand the progression of time and our inability to reset it. Thanks for telling me that I can’t change the past, because I’m a complete nimrod who was unable to understand it any other way! That’s a real big load off my shoulders. But wait, you know what? Fuck that. You’ve changed nothing. I am still a murderer. I do not care, I do not even slightly care what you think, or how you feel I should be thinking, because that is not the way that I do feel. It’s not the way that I actually process these things.”

“Frank,” I start, “there is nothing we can do to change your mind, and in the end, there is nothing about either of our opinions that have any more right to be heard than the way you, yourself, think, but the thing is, I want you to know how I feel. How I feel is not, I understand, as important as how you feel, because it’s your weight to bear, not mine, but the thing is, I don’t view you as a bad person.”

“But-”

“Frank, I’m your husband, and I’m saying this because I love you, if you say one more bad thing about yourself, I will punch you in the fucking face.”

“And I will also,” Mikey says, raising his hand.

“I don’t think telling me that you want to punch me in the face is really a sign of love,” Frank says, puzzling his face to look at me.

“Yeah well, you’re pissing me off,” Gerard says.

“So the guy who you are in love with is pissing you off, and that’s why you want to punch him? You have a skewed sense of logic,” Frank says.

“The point I’m trying to make is that you’re being an asshole. I always tell you not to be an asshole to people, okay, and when we have kids, imma tell them not to be an asshole to people, and when Mikey gets arrested someday for crimes yet unknown that will probably involve something to do with cutting off peoples appendages, I’m going to say the same thing to him. Don’t be an asshole to people! It’s not that hard, but Frank, here’s something you may not have known. You’re a people. Frank, you’re someone who exists. Just because you are yourself, that does not give you any right to be an asshole to yourself. Don’t even try to tell me that ‘it’s different,’ because it’s not. You’re a person, you shouldn’t be an asshole, don’t be an asshole to yourself.”

“You said asshole quite a bit there,” Mikey notes.

“I did,” I nod, “And one more thing, Frank. What makes you think you have any right to say that what happened last time was your fault? No offense, but I don’t think you were the one who had multiple assassins hired to kill him. Saying it was your fault is like saying it’s because of Mikey that we landed on the moon in 1969. You were there, yes, but the events that transpired would’ve transpired whether or not you were there. Actually, without you there, I’d probably be dead.”

“You’re too defensive of me,” Frank says, “all these pretty words don’t excuse what I’ve done.”

“Fine,” I say, giving up on him. I walk over to sit next to him on the bed. Frank looks at me for a second before frowning and turning away.

“It’s almost like he thinks we don’t care about him,” Mikey says, and I turn to look at him, because he’s right about that one. “If we didn’t care about him, then why would we be here right now? I don’t know about you, but if I hated Frank the way he seems to think I do, I’d have shoved him outside and tied him to a flagpole so as to assure that whoever wants him dead would get their chance. But whatever. If he thinks I hate him, that I don’t care about him, so be it. I knew he was a dumbass the minute I first saw him. Hell, I knew he was a dumbass the day you first met him and called me to gush about the cute reporter guy who was writing a story about you. Because, seriously, what kind of a dumbass wants to write a story about you? You’re about as boring as they come.”

“I am, aren’t I?” I say, nodding in agreement. “I’m vanilla as they come, and my idea of a good time is Mario Kart and popcorn”

“I don’t think you hate me per se,” Frank says, “I just don’t believe that you’re thinking logically when you say you care.”

I roll my eyes, and look at him, “Look, I love you. I don’t have a choice. I married you, stupid of me, I know, but divorces are messy and you look good naked, so fuck it, I’m going to keep you. But honestly, I have to say, of the smart people I know, and I do know quite a few smart people, you, Frank, are the dumbest smart person I know.”

“That was an oxymoron,” Frank says.

“You’re a moron,” I reply.

“Both of you are morons,” Mikey interjects.

“I just... think what you want to. I can’t change the way your brain works, that’s up to you, it’s your brain. But, I just want to tell you that I think you are amazing. I really do. So, do with that information what you will, but the thing that needs to be said is that no matter what happens, I’m always going to root for you.”

Frank sighs, looks at me and, though his face is basically blank, he does smile the tiniest bit. “I love you, Gee.”

“I know,” I shrug, “it’s ‘cause I’m awesome.”

“And you’re conceited,” Frank adds.

“Maybe I am, but you’re stuck in the same boat as me. Dumb marriage vows and all that.”

“Yeah, shut up, just kiss me,” Frank rolls his eyes.

“Bossy,” I smile, because I think I’ve managed to cheer him up a little bit. Frank’s never an easy one to snap out of things because he gets so focused on one vantage point that he can’t think about other ones. He’s bad at pulling himself out of a slump as well. I think he needs people surrounding him to even justify his own existence, because otherwise he thinks he’s failed. I disagree, I think Frank’s the best person in the world without even having to try. He’d be the best person in the world even after twenty years stranded on a desert island alone with only a shrub to talk to.

You can say what you want about being with someone for a long time. Five years doesn’t seem like that much to me, but I guess it is. One thing that never gets old though, is kissing them. At least for me, it’s like our first every single time. I psych myself into thinking that I know what it feels like, remember what it’s like to kiss Frank, but every time I find that I’m way off the mark. He’s never going to stop astounding me. He never gives himself credit for how fantastic he really is. It’s annoying that the best people in this world are always the ones who have the hardest time recognizing their strengths. Falling in love with someone usually involves the process of falling in love with their flaws even more than strengths, but with Frank, it’s everything. Everything is what I love about him.

I love the way he wears T-shirts everywhere, and I love the way he’d rather talk about nothing or something stupid then let an awkward silence overtake a conversation. I love the way he makes up songs when he’s cooking that are usually about something stupid like the way that zucchini sizzles in a frying pan. I love the way that Frank will literally stop talking in the middle of a word if he sees a dog, and will then watch that dog in complete silence until it’s out of his line of sight completely. I love the way he always buys movies that he enjoyed after watching them on Netflix, because he likes the satisfaction of owning a physical copy. I love the way he always looks for a specific edition of his favorite book in every used book store we’ve ever been in, and I love the way he always guesses Kenya whenever we watch a quiz show that has a question about African countries. I love the way he gets sucked into Big Brother even though, every year, he promises he won’t watch it. I just love him.

Mikey makes a gagging sound, “I am right here. You two are nasty, I don’t wanna see that.”

“All I did was kiss him, Mikey! Since when was that new to you?”

“Gerard is gross. No one wants to kiss Gerard,” Mikey says.

“Frank wants to kiss me,” I pout, “I’m adorable.”

“You just keep telling yourself that.”

“You’re adorable, don’t worry,” Frank says.

“I love you so much,” I reply.

“And I love Cocoa Puffs but I don’t announce it three times an hour, do I?” Mikey says loudly.

“Don’t listen to him,” I roll my eyes, “he’s just jealous that I have someone to say I love you to.”

“As well he should be.”

“Oh shut up,” Mikey shakes his head.

“Fuck you,” I say, turning back to Frank and kissing him.