Divine Intervention Read online

  “It’s just like that, you know. Only for this it’s like—you may not have been born an addict, but you became one. I don’t think you’re destined for failure just because of heritage or whatnot. We have free will, I’d like to think. So don’t think yourself too far down the rabbit hole. Don’t exchange alcohol for cigarettes because you think you must become dependent on something.”

  Evan nodded and stubbed out the cigarette against the wall, half finished. “Since when did you become a philosophy major?”

  Liam smiled. “I think I may have had a realization.”

  “Oh? Without me?”

  “Ah, that is precisely it.” Liam took out his phone from his front pocket and began to flip through images of himself and Sarah on a trip from a few days earlier. Then, going too far in the phone’s photo album, he went right over an image of an engagement ring.

  “Whoa,” Evan said. He looked up at Liam, who feigned surprise.

  “Now how did that get there?”

  “Liam, seriously?” Evan asked, his eyes wide. Liam and Sarah had been together for three years at that point. Evan knew this was going to happen, but he also had no idea, either. Liam was like that; full of surprises and not one for confession. “Have you done it already?”

  “No, not yet. But soon. Very soon. Haven’t bought the ring, either, but I know where to find the best one now.” He flipped back to the photo he had tried to hide only moments earlier. He gazed at it, while Evan gazed at him.

  “I thought she was a ball and chain?”

  “Right. But you can’t live life without a little baggage, you know. It makes being tied down to that rock we must push over the hill little better.”

  Evan smiled. He was pretty sure that love wasn’t exactly what Camus had in mind when he wrote “The Myth of Sisyphus” or the original Greeks when they told the tale, but Evan didn’t want to crush him. He liked it when Liam was happy. And still harboring a small crush on Liam from his college days had never made that too difficult. Sure, Liam was gorgeous and a sweet guy, but Evan knew that he couldn’t have him. Even if Liam did occasionally dance with gay guys at the club and once made out with Evan as a dare (from Sarah, of all people) before the kiss at the intervention, it didn’t matter. Loving someone from a distance, in silence, was always what Evan was better at anyway.

  “Well, I’m happy for you. Just don’t stare at the abyss too much, okay?” Evan said, putting a palm over the phone. “Or the abyss will stare back.”

  When Liam’s face ceased to recognize the good old Nietzsche quotation, he determined that his friend had not gotten though quite as many philosophers as he once thought before.

  “You know,” Evan said, crossing his arms over his uniform. “I swear that philosophy and Hallmark cards are the same thing. They each thrive on quotations pulled out of nowhere, without context, and allowed to create meaning behind them.”

  “You say this like it’s a bad thing.”

  “It’s not, not necessarily,” Evan said. He sat down on a crate outside and produced another cigarette. Exchanging one habit for another did seem to help with his craving for alcohol—and also helped to ease him when he felt his feelings start to shake him on his feet. Besides, smoking actually allowed for even more freedom inside the grocery store, since he now had a reason to leave the building for more than a standard fifteen-minute interval at his job. Instead, he often took five minutes here or there to cope with his new habits.

  “Anyway, man, keep me updated for this. I’m sure Sarah will say yes, but let me know, okay?”

  “Are you planning on swooping in if it’s a no?” Liam asked with a large smile. He pulled over another crate and the two men sat down.

  Evan sighed, biting his lips in between breaths of the cigarette.

  “Don’t tempt me, Liam. You won’t like me when I’m tempted.”

  Liam let out a small guffaw. “I suppose if Sarah doesn’t work out, then that’s the end for me. I may as well cross sides. There will be nothing left.”

  “Well, thanks for making my lifestyle choice seem like a last resort.” Evan gave him a playful sigh.

  Liam shoved back. “You know what I mean.”

  “I do, I guess,” Evan said. He couldn’t shake the sudden serious expression that had crossed Liam’s face. The abyss, Evan thought suddenly. He has finally stared into his life and understood what it means.

  “Liam, you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m just thinking.”

  “It happens. Nasty habit, really. I would normally suggest alcohol to help ease that pain, but you know…”

  Liam laughed halfheartedly. He drew his hands together and then looked gravely at Evan. “You should start thinking of the future yourself, you know. Beyond this recovery stuff. Maybe now is not a good time for a relationship as you focus on getting better, but caring for someone else will help.”

  “I am thinking of the future,” Evan said, holding up the cigarette. “I have another four minutes out here. If that.”

  “No, I mean…” Liam paused and ran his hands through his hair. “Look, have you read The Symposium yet in your classes?”

  For once, it had been the only document that Liam had an edge on him for. Evan shook his head.

  Liam smiled gleefully and drew his arm back into a cheer. “Yes, I have won that intellectual battle. Not bad for someone who graduated college almost ten years ago.”

  Evan nodded, rolling his eyes. “So you were about to tell me a love story?”

  Liam smiled. “Not quite. The Symposium was a dialogue written about Socrates and a bunch of other thinkers during that time period by Plato. All of these men were gathered to talk about the love god, Eros. During the meeting, the history of love was recounted.”

  “Can a feeling really have a history?”

  “Yes,” Liam said seriously. “Just think of how we categorize our own pasts and present, using feelings as bookmarks. It’s really neat to think that large periods of history can be categorized the same way. The Dark Ages, as much as it’s a reflective title to describe the lack of innovation that happened then, is also used to evoke a ‘dark’ feeling. Everyone was hopelessly depressed then; there was very little hope.”

  Evan sighed. He looked at his watch dramatically. “I can relate, since I now have three minutes of my break.”

  “Okay,” Liam said, speeding up his performance. He concentrated for a few minutes, trying to form the right words as he recanted the history of love. “When the world was first created, everyone had four arms and four legs. We were pretty much two people who were back to back. We always had someone to talk to us and we never knew loneliness—but we also never knew love. There were three kinds of people in this, which pretty much equate to the type of relationships we have now: straight, gay, lesbian. When the gods watching over realized how powerful everyone had become when they weren’t lonely, they became angry and they split everyone in half. They created large storms that spread out the person’s perfect match across the world, so they would spend their lifetime looking for them.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, gods are vengeful dicks, usually,” Liam agreed with Evan’s somber remark. “This is where the idea of soul mates comes from. We feel broken when we’re alone because we really are broken. We used to be powerful people and the only way we can be that way again is if we put out bodies back together.”

  “Through sex?” Evan raised an eyebrow as he smiled. He had a hard time taking all of this seriously, even with Liam’s thoughtful rendition of the ancient text. Evan didn’t want to admit that his heart rate was climbing as he heard Liam talk about love. He’d much rather laugh at it.

  Liam sighed. “Yes, but there is more than just sex, Evan. This is why I’m going to propose to Sarah. Because when we’re together, it’s like we’re whole again. Does that make sense?”

  “I like that there are men and men in this equation,” Evan added after some time. “Why can’t people just finally listen to Socrates and get that?”


  “Oh, of course, this was Greek men we’re talking about here. They invented being gay.” Liam nodded with a small wink. “And technically, this was Aristophanes giving the speech.”

  Now Evan’s back stiffened. “The guy that wrote The Clouds? The satirist?”

  Liam shrugged. Evan let out an aggravated sigh. “You do realize that entire speech was probably Aristophanes being a troll and doing a satirical statement. It wasn’t poetry, Liam. It was a joke.”

  “Umm…”

  “Great,” Evan said. Though he had been proven right about love and its nonexistence, Evan couldn’t deny the sick weight in his stomach. “So, true love really is a joke then? Nice, Liam. You almost got me there.”

  Liam laughed a bit, the dimples on his cheeks becoming visible. “Well, even if love’s a cruel joke, it still doesn’t change the fact that I want to be with Sarah. I want to be with someone who gets me laughing, you know?”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t.”

  “You will.”

  “Sure, why not?” Evan stared at the cement, his other cigarette butt, dejectedly.

  “Come on,” Liam said, getting to his feet. Though Evan still sucked on his cigarette, he followed Liam and blew smoke from the side of his mouth. “You’ll find someone. And when you do, you can’t be stupid about it, okay?”

  “I won’t,” Evan said slowly. “In fact, whenever I do find someone, how about I call you at work to let you know?”

  Liam nodded. “Exactly. Planning for the future, Evan. It’s a good sign.”

  Liam held up his hand, which Evan shook quickly before Liam excused himself to head back to his own job. Evan watched as Liam left, dabbing his cigarette out on the sidewalk next to him. He never wanted to admit it, but the crush he had on Liam still made him weak in the knees.

  You gotta stop doing it, Evan, falling in love with men who are unavailable because that’s the only thing you know of love.

  Evan stood up.

  “Hey man,” he called out.

  “Yeah?” Liam asked, turning around.

  “Thanks for the visit. I appreciate it.”

  “Anytime,” Liam said with a smile. “You help me as much as I help you.”

  When he turned the corner, Evan felt his chest ache again. Liam had given him a new lease on life after the intervention. Though he was still working shitty jobs, Evan was reading again. He was caring again. It was easy to fall in love with the person who changed things. They ended up becoming a god figure to you since they had fixed bigger messes. But the point of the story that Plato wrote down and Aristophanes spoke inside a symposium on love was that, as far as Evan knew, the point was to find someone else who was just as broken. It was easy to fall in love with a god, but they would never reciprocate. Instead, find a nonbeliever and create something together.

  As Evan turned the corner to enter the grocery store, a man passed by his vision. He moved down the alleyway more so he could watch as the guy, tinier than he expected, with long hair and a black T-shirt. He walked across the street, toward the record store, and entered it. Before long, he appeared again in the front window display and began to rearrange a few classic albums. When a vinyl copy of The Bouncing Souls How I Spent My Summer Vacation was placed in the front, something perked up in Evan. Though he knew his five-minute break was over, he felt compelled to move across.

  As soon as Evan stepped down onto the asphalt, a car horn blared. He stepped back as an angry driver shook his fist and whirred by. When he looked back over, the man with long hair was gone. Perhaps he was only deeper inside the store, Evan considered, but it didn’t matter. The nighttime manager had now spotted him and Evan needed to get back to work. Maybe not today, he told himself. But he would push that boulder later.

  For the next week, Evan kept a close watch out for the same man with records in his hands. Evan had determined, through his expert sleuthing skills, that he must work there. No dress code or name tags, but there was a familiarity with the way he moved along the street. Evan hadn’t tried crossing yet, not since the first day when he was almost hit.

  The record store was one of those used places where people could come in and trade old nostalgia for something new. In addition to the vinyl in the front, they seemed to have old CDs as well, along with some recording equipment under lock and key too. Evan tended to avoid places like this since they made him feel like he was scrounging under couch cushions and returning empties for small bits of cash to buy alcohol with. He also downloaded most of his music now. It was hard to believe, without the aid of some kind of other side business (drugs, obviously, most likely weed with the amount of dreadlocked kids that came in and out and Bob Marley albums in the window) how the place stayed open. Though Evan longed to talk to the man about the album he had placed in the front window (one of Evan’s favorites, by far; he had listened to his copy of the CD as a kid so much that he broke it in the machine), he hadn’t yet had the nerve to go over. Or the time. So often, Evan went straight from work to school to his apartment, a book in his hand and his iPod always on, that he didn’t have idle hours to wander around a store. It would only lead his mind to wander, and Evan was still afraid of his mind wandering into bad areas that he could only black out with booze.

  Imagine Evan’s surprise when he visited Liam again, after weeks of avoidance, and the same man with dark brown hair was sitting on his couch.

  “Hello,” Evan said, his smile wide.

  “Hi,” Bart greeted in a small, timid voice.

  “You work at the record store, don’t you?”

  Bart had cocked his head to the side.

  “The one on King’s street, right across the street from the Safeway store.”

  Bart’s eyes became even wider. “How did you…?”

  “Lucky guess,” Liam said. He stepped in and pointed to Bart’s Black Flag shirt. Bart looked down and feigned surprise at his outfit. “You’re not exactly a low profile person anymore, Bart. People will notice you now. People like Evan here, whose eyes wander far too much.”

  Liam clapped him on the back, making Evan cough.

  “I also work at Safeway,” Evan explained. He extended his hand across the distance between them, a smile on his face. “I’m Evan. Obviously.”

  “Bart.”

  Liam had explained Bart’s life story then—at least, the Hollywood version. “Bart is my runaway Mormon who is now dealing in punk music. Cool, huh?”

  “Very nice, Liam,” Evan said with a roll of his eyes. “How exactly do you introduce me to people when I’m not around? Your standard gay boyfriend with a sob story background?”

  “No, my dear. You’re my Zach Braff. Always and forever,” Liam said with a small wink of his eye. He moved through his apartment, touching Sarah briefly on her shoulders as he passed by. She smiled and nodded to Evan, who she had grown fond of seeing now that there was no impending intervention hanging over everyone’s head.

  “You’re looking good,” Sarah said with genuine pride in her voice.

  Evan took a small bow and thanked her like a gentleman. “It would not have been possible without all of you.”

  Though Bart had never been at the intervention or aware of Evan outside of Liam’s small name dropping, in a way, Bart was just as much to thank as all of them. For the last few weeks at work, he had provided Evan with something to look forward to. A small mystery to figure out. Now that he knew a name and a better face, Evan wondered if there would be anything else to extend this mystery in his mind. Even at this first apartment meeting, Evan wasn’t too sure about Bart yet. He was still too quiet and timid, his hoodie now done up over his Black Flag shirt and covering the only in Evan had for conversation.

  Evan never really had a type of guy he was into. Most of the men he liked were taller than him, but that was by circumstance more than anything else. Most of them had dark hair and eyes, but again, circumstance. He had nothing against blonds. But there was a subtle mysterious quality to the way Bart’s dark hair framed his face and
his skittish nature around new people. If Liam’s stories were right, then he hadn’t met many people outside of his family or “community”; not that Bart was inept at socializing. Bart smiled and talked to Sarah, helping her to decide what music to put on for the rest of the night. But Evan could tell that Bart was adjusting, trying to find a common denominator that all people could relate to and understand. He had learned, through his first job by himself, that music was a good social lubricant. Almost everyone had an opinion.

  As Bart explained to Sarah the depth behind Bad Brains’ lyrics, Evan wandered over to the couch. He could tell that Liam hadn’t proposed yet. There was no shiny ring on Sarah’s finger, and she still had the polite nonchalance about the apartment. After dating Liam for as long as she had, she had grown used to the place in its current state. Evan kept a close eye on Bart for most of the night, and was surprised when Bart followed him to the couch. He stood over Evan, looking down and crossing his arms playfully.

  “You’re kind of in my bedroom,” he joked.

  “I suppose I am,” Evan said, looking down. He didn’t move. “You’re in my neighborhood.”

  “Apparently you’re stalking me.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” Evan said with a laugh. He extended his hand. “Let’s introduce ourselves better. I’m Evan Mahoney. I’m Liam’s sponsor now…or is he mine? Oh well, AA is confusing and pointless. I work at a grocery store.”

  “Are all of these statements related?”

  “If you squint.”

  “I thought I recognized you,” Bart said after a moment.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” He paused, uncrossing his arms. “I’m Bart Olsen. I like music.”

  “I can tell. I do too. I eyed that Bouncing Souls album you put in the window a few days ago that seemed to disappear within a matter of hours.”