He wouldn’t do it though. He wouldn’t fantasize. He wouldn’t masturbate. He wouldn’t seek out sexual gratification. Doing so, would be a step in the wrong direction for him because he knew it would lead to the debilitating guilt that inexorably followed.
Instead, he got down on the floor and proceeded to do as many push-ups as he possibly could. He was tired and his muscles protested. Two in the morning was not the time for exercise, his muscles screamed at him, but it was better than the alternative. He pushed himself until sweat ran down his back and his stomach quivered, until his arms threatened to give out…until there was not a chance in hell he could inspire his lust. Then he took a shower and got in bed.
He slept peacefully and without dreams.
Chapter Seven
Caleb couldn’t sleep. He’d done everything he could think of, he’d taken a hot shower, he’d masturbated, and he’d sat in Rafiq’s library and looked through his books. He couldn’t read, but some of the books had pictures in them. He’d walked around the house and discovered the snacks in the kitchen. He’d eaten all the gulab jamun and even now, his fingers and the corners of his mouth were sticky. He still couldn’t sleep.
Where was Rafiq, he wondered? His heart began to race at the thought of the older man. What if he didn’t come back? What if something had happened to him? Caleb’s stomach hurt. He’d never been alone before. There was always someone near him, if not the other boys, then Narweh, if not him, then perhaps a patron.
Caleb stood and pushed his pillow and blanket onto the floor, his bed was too soft. He lay down on the thick carpet and swaddled himself in the blanket he’d been provided. Outside, the wind howled. Why would Rafiq leave him alone? He drew his knees up to his chest and rocked. He wished RezA were with him. RezA was one of the British boys that often shared his bed. If he had a friend at all, it was probably RezA.
For the first time in a week he let himself think of someone other than himself. With Narweh dead, what had happened to the others, to RezA? It was true they often fought and sometimes threw one another into Narweh’s angry path, but it didn’t mean there was not affection there. Whenever one of them was mistreated by a patron or after a particularly savage beating, they would often comfort each other by applying bandages or offering arms that consoled instead of harmed. Caleb was smaller, younger probably, but he was a fighter where as RezA was more amenable and easily manipulated.
“Why do you anger him so often, Kéleb? You know what he will do,” he’d often whispered to Kéleb in the dark and applied ointment to his skin.
“I hate him. I’ll let him kill me before I become his little lap dog. A dog I might be, but not his.”
“You’re not a dog, Kéleb,” RezA kissed his forehead. "You’re a stupid boy.”
“And you’re a lap dog,” Kéleb countered with a half-hearted laugh.
RezA laughed too and put the cap on the ointment. He stood quietly and tip-toed toward his own bed on the floor.
“RezA!” Kéleb whispered.
“What?”
“I’m going to kill him one day.”
After a long pause, “I know. Goodnight stupid boy.”
Caleb had done exactly as he promised. He’d killed Narweh in cold, efficient blood. But he hadn’t bothered to look for RezA, nor had he told everyone they were free. He never told them to run. He would like to say it was because the thought had not occurred to him, but that wasn’t true. He’d been afraid. He’d been afraid they’d turn on him, because without Narweh, many of them would have to choose between poverty and a new and unknown master, perhaps even the drudgery of bonded slavery. He had also been afraid Rafiq would decide all of it, including Caleb, was too much of a burden and he would have to face the fate of the others. So he’d simply let Rafiq lead him away. He’d let himself be shocked and traumatized over what he’d done. He’d let himself be the victim. He deserved to be abandoned in return.
A noise startled him from his self-deprecating thoughts.
He was stone-like in his stillness, listening for any sounds to indicate whether or not he was alone in the house and furthermore, if a presence equated to danger. He heard the door shut somewhat gently and then heard the familiar shuffling sounds of someone removing their shoes and placing them near the door. Casual noises were a good sign, Caleb supposed, since someone intending harm would likely not care enough to remove their shoes.
Caleb wanted to leave his room, he wanted to investigate, but the fear he felt still lingered strongly. Rafiq was a stranger and his moods could be erratic. He remembered with perfect clarity the way he had been tossed into the bathtub and held down by Rafiq’s strong arms. He shuddered.
Footsteps neared his door and Caleb tensed even more, his muscles quivering from being held so tight. The door opened slowly and he shut his eyes tightly. If Rafiq tried to rape him, he would fight back. Somewhere in his mind a voice whispered he should just do whatever was expected of him. He’d survive. He’d want to die, but he could survive it again.
“Caleb?” Rafiq’s voice whispered into the darkness.
Caleb held his breath and didn’t answer.
“Boy? Are you sleeping?” Rafiq whispered again and he seemed in control, not angry or predisposed to violence.
Caleb refused to answer though, he kept his eyes shut and tried to breathe as quietly, shallowly and as evenly as he could until finally, his door shut and Rafiq was gone. Caleb instantly felt relief, but also loss. He was alone again. Alone and frightened in a strange, dark room.
What was his life now? He’d killed someone. He’d murdered. He didn’t feel bad about doing it, he would do it again given the chance, but what was he to do with his life, who could he be? Who was Caleb? He had always told himself one day he would be free, but he didn’t realize freedom could feel…too vast, too open and uncertain. Now he was free, he felt devoid of purpose and without a purpose what did his life amount to? He owed a debt to Rafiq and he would honor it, but once his task was complete he would find himself in exactly the same place.
Caleb swallowed his fear and tossed back the blankets, determined to seek answers from the one person in his life who might have them: Rafiq. He slowly opened the door and tiptoed toward Rafiq’s room. He hesitated at the door, but then tentatively knocked.
“I’m not in there,” Rafiq said from behind him.
Caleb whirled around and stared into Rafiq’s intense gaze, “I-I-I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I was awake when you came in, but I….” he looked at his bare feet, “I wasn’t sure what you came looking for.” Caleb swallowed.
Rafiq smirked, “And what did you decide?”
Caleb shrugged, “I don’t know. I thought…I’d get it over with and simply ask you.”
Rafiq’s loud sigh caused Caleb’s shoulders to tense, but he didn’t move to walk away from the older man. “That is very brave of you chab, but you have no need to be wary of me; I intend you no harm.”
“What do you intend?” Caleb bristled at being called a boy.
“I would hope I’ve earned your loyalty by now. I only meant to see if you are well? I’ve been gone since very early and I feared my absence was…stressful for you.”
Caleb shrugged half-heartedly, but in reality, he wanted to weep with gratitude. No one in a position of power had ever concerned himself with his well-being. No one had ever just come to check on him. He took a deep breath and pressed his emotions down into his stomach. He did not wish to appear weak in front of the one man offering to make him strong. “It was strange to be alone. Before, with Narweh, there was always someone, but…it was…I don’t know what to say. I ate all of the gulab jamun,” he confessed sheepishly. “I was also in your library. I’ve never seen so many books! You must know a lot of things. But don’t worry!” he was suddenly nervous. “I can’t read. I wasn’t trying to invade your privacy. I only looked at the pictures. I’m sorry.”
Rafiq laughed and the sound put Caleb at ease somewhat. He relaxed further when Rafiq’s hand landed on his head and ruffled his long, blond hair. “It’s fine, Caleb. This is your home now. The food was left for you and you are welcome to the books. I will teach you how to read them.”
Caleb shut his eyes tight to keep his tears from surfacing. Without warning, he lunged toward Rafiq and wrapped his skinny arms around him. He wanted to express his gratitude. He wanted Rafiq to know how much Caleb felt indebted to him.
Slowly and with shaking hands, Caleb reached up and pulled the older man’s head toward his and pressed his lips to Rafiq’s. The older man stilled, but didn’t stop him when his tongue slid across the opening of Rafiq’s mouth. Caleb had done this many times, with men he hated; surely he could do it once with someone whom he respected.
Caleb’s youthful body responded to the kiss and he pressed forward, chasing Rafiq’s mouth, his taste. Rafiq pulled away.
Caleb panicked. If Rafiq rejected him, he would die. He would die of shame because he was a whore and knew no other way.
“Caleb, no.”
“I won’t fight you. I’ll do as you ask,” Caleb whispered. His words were shaky and full of fear.