11. Jeffrey

Chapter eleven

Jeffrey

" I t's a matter of pride in our community! Pride in our neighborhood! Pride in having some say over what influences our children and how visitors from other cities and other countries view us! And what we do not want is for those views and influences to be centered around immoral livelihoods, practices, or history!"

I seriously could have wished for Mrs. Sherman to drop dead in that moment.

The crowd outside with her cheers. I don't recognize any of them, but I have a guess that most are probably from St. Mary's.

"What would you have me do, Jeffrey?" Odai asks beside me.

"I don't know. I'm guessing I can't wish for them all to just leave?"

"I'm afraid that would be—"

"Against their natures. Yeah." I steel my resolve. I didn't actually tell Odai what to dress me in, just to make us dressed, but I am beyond relieved he conjured something normal from my closet. If I'd been in that cropped zip-up right now, I would not be able to open the door. "I wish to not let her walk all over me. I can do that, even if I usually eventually crumble, so you should be able to help with that, right? And just be supportive beside me?"

"Of course, Jeffrey." Odai places a hand on my shoulder, and I feel a zing from it that fills me with confidence I usually lack.

No, that usually falters, but I do have it. I can do this.

I open the front door.

"It's about having pride in—"

"Mrs. Sherman, there is no pride in what you are doing!" I shout over her, which isn't too difficult, even with the megaphone, since she is standing right outside the door and jumps from me yelling in her ear. There aren't that many people with her, maybe between one to two dozen, but I let all of them turning their glares on me—Mrs. Sherman included—fuel how pissed I am right now. "Just because several business owners retracted their signatures from your petition—"

"I am well within my rights to protest here, when your establishment has the ability to negatively impact my business!" she shouts back, thankfully not through the megaphone, or I might have smacked her. That would only give her ammunition though. "As do the concerned citizens with me."

"Then do so in front of your business," I snap. "All any passersby are going to see from this display is a small mob ganging up on a queer -friendly establishment." I say that part louder and thrust my arm toward the window with our Pride flag—something to actually have pride in.

"This is not about your lifestyle preferences," Mrs. Sherman looms over me, literally toe to toe, and I feel Odai's hand on my shoulder tighten. Her eyes flash to his, and she takes a step back. "This is about the immorality of promoting a brothel."

"We do not promote what happened here. We tell its history. And history ," I keep speaking before she can try to interrupt, "should not be stifled. Plus, there is nothing wrong with sex work. What someone does with their own body—"

"You see!" Mrs. Sherman whirls around and lifts her megaphone again. "From the tour guide himself whose entire repertoire for their sordid midnight tours is spouting filth—Mad Madame Mattie's believes that sex work should be legal!"

"I didn't say—"

"Rest your voice, Jeffrey," Odai says close at my ear. Then he calls to Mrs. Sherman, "We will simply call the authorities to handle this attack."

"Attack?" She whirls back to us. "I'll have you know that we are doing nothing illegal. We are technically not even affecting your business today because you . Aren't . Open . "

The clap-back way she said that raises my hackles further. "It affects us if your entire point is to run us out of business. Just because we're closed today—"

"And what is your new consultant doing here so early on a Monday when, in fact, you are closed?"

"Because he's my boyfriend!" I get in her face, and several passersby definitely glance at our Pride flag now. "He is also a consultant, neither of which is your business, because our business does not affect yours! It never did! It never would! And pretending like this isn't about me being a queer boy in a dress for the tours is bullshit! Respectfully , Mrs. Sherman," I add through clenched teeth.

The churchgoers clearly didn't expect the small pretty boy in glasses and an oversized sweatshirt to snap like that. Neither did I, but whatever magic from Odai is keeping me from crumbling like I usually do is definitely doing the trick. I'm practically shaking from how rare it is for me to get this riled up, but I will not give ground. Not this time.

The crowd murmurs to each other as Mrs. Sherman attempts to keep their allegiance.

"I assure you that this is not about lifestyle choices," she tries, "but a level of indecency in our neighborhood—"

"I think to settle this—" Odai steps out from behind me "—instead of calling the police, I should call Fluid Fashion and some of the other establishments from the nearby queer district to get their take on your choice of targets. Then we can truly see where this community stands."

That makes the crowd warier, and a few start fading into the background to slip away. News stories about how well that sort of "protest off" has gone down in front of other queer-run businesses is probably more than enough to have them spooked.

Good. As more and more retreat, the rest follow, leaving Mrs. Sherman struggling to look as if she has any power at all.

"People of this neighborhood, listen to me!" she calls through her megaphone.

" No ," I grumble and shove Odai back inside with me, closing the door behind us.

"Perhaps we should call Fluid Fashion and some others?" Odai suggests.

"No. She'll wear herself out eventually now that she's lost most of her audience. If we call in SJ and company, Cas might show up with a baseball bat."

Odai chuckles—but I know how true that could be.

Even if Cas hasn't been talking to me much lately.

Until Mrs. Sherman does wear herself out, however, her voice is very grating.

"Can I wish to not be able to hear her while she's doing that?" I ask.

Odai snaps his fingers, and the sound of her outside the door becomes blissfully silent. "Granted."

"Thank you. I know they say there's no such thing as bad publicity, but I really do not want this escalating into a standoff of protest factions. Though threatening that was a good idea. Thanks for that too." When I finally turn my back on the now muted commotion outside, Odai is grinning. "What?"

"Your boyfriend , am I?"

Oh shit. I did say that. "Only if you want to be! I know it's been like barely a week and a half, but you are amazing and have given me more orgasms than most of my past boyfriends combined, so—"

Odai kisses me, which he has rarely done without me asking first. It makes all the tension in my shoulders ease away like shrugging off a weighted blanket. There has never been a better way to stop me mid-ramble. After flicking his forked tongue over my lips, he says, "I would very much like to officially be your paramour, beautiful one."

He is seriously perfect.

"And not to worry. You wished for Mrs. Sherman to be dealt with, and she will be."

That sounds ominous, but I kind of don't mind right now. When I glance outside again, Mrs. Sherman is still in front of our door, talking through her megaphone, even if I can't hear her. "You know, I think I'm going to go next door and get us some coffee. Through the back way."

"You would not prefer to simply wish for it?" Odai asks.

"That's okay. I need the walk. But thank you. Really." I lean up on my tiptoes to kiss him, just a simple peck—for my boyfriend . "I'll bring you something back too."

"Whatever you wish."

"I wish to get to do things for you sometimes. "

Odai gets that excited look again, like every time I wish for something, no matter how trivial, but I think it lingers longer because it is honestly all about him.

I pat my back pocket, and when Odai dressed me, he even put my wallet where it should be. Sneaking out the back door is easy enough, and it is sort of hilarious that Mrs. Sherman's voice is still muted for me when I slip out of the alley behind our building and circle around to sneak into Sage.

There is the usual line but waiting helps what just happened wash over me. I sort of won? Maybe not the war, but definitely the battle. It feels pretty good. A little terrifying now that it can really sink in that I yelled in Mrs. Sherman's face, and she might complain to Mr. Bevilaqua about it, but well, screw her. She couldn't even keep a crowd from St. Mary's on her side long enough to stir up trouble.

I do wonder what Odai might do to "deal with her." It's not like I want her to go out of business just for our business to survive. Although it would be nice if she decided to move locations.

To another country .

"I said I don't know, okay? I don't remember!" a vaguely familiar voice draws my attention to a table to the right of where I am standing in line. There is a group of guys sitting there, not much older than me. They look familiar too, but I do tend to run into the same people in this neighborhood .

The one who spoke is wearing dark sunglasses and keeps rubbing at his eyes beneath the lenses. It takes me a second, but his voice, his face, the friends with him…

It's the asshole from the other night who kept making snide comments during my tour.

"Dude, no matter how drunk you got after you ditched us, how do you forget something like getting your eyes scratched out?" one of his friends asks.

What ?

I keep my head down and make myself as small as possible, continuing in line, and keeping my ears trained on their conversation.

"They're not out , okay? They're there. I just can't see anything," the asshole grumbles.

"Then stop rubbing them!" another friend chides. "That isn't going to help any. What did the doctor say?"

"They don't know anything either! They think it might be fucking permanent ."

I have to look back, as the line moves past their table, and I watch him remove his sunglasses to rub at his eyes again. When he opens them, they look milky and blind with distinct claw marks down the center of each one.

"Um, line's moving, hun." A woman gently nudges me.

There are several people-lengths ahead of me now, and I hurry forward, but there is a pit growing in my stomach, like a gaping cavern.

I didn't wish for that, did I ?

No. Of course, I didn't. Sure, that man had been harassing me, ruining the tour, and later, when he was gone, I was relieved, but…

Did Odai blind him?

For me?

Odai

Jeffrey has been avoiding me. Ever since bringing us coffee, he seems changed, oddly distant considering how close I felt to him when we agreed we were a couple.

Does he regret those words?

Mrs. Sherman is gone. I have been discovering many things about her in my spare time working toward Jeffrey's primary wish. She will be dealt with, one way or another. Does he worry about her, even with her efforts this morning thwarted?

Jeffrey wished to be alone for a while, but it has been too long without more wishes, hours of him upstairs and me left alone. I need reprieve, even some small desire to grant to help sustain me. To keep control .

Usually, I cannot go against previous wishes, but there are ways around that, and the more my need to fulfill desires expands within me like a festering wound, the more I am compelled to push, to take actions to make certain wishes are asked of me, and that long-form wishes are granted by any means necessary.

Jeffrey wished to be alone but a call upstairs to check on him is just a call.

"Jeffrey! May I come see you now?"

"Um… I-I'll be right down!"

That wasn't a no.

I ascend the stairs.

Jeffrey sounded agitated, fearful even. I have heard eventual fear in the voices of my masters and mistresses. Hearing it now from him and not being expressly denied looking in on him makes me hasten my pace.

His bedroom door is closed, and when I open it, I catch him hurriedly shove something beneath his pillow. "I-I said I'd be right down!" he sputters. The expression on his face is just as fearful.

"Jeffrey, something is troubling you. Please, tell me."

In an instant, he looks close to tears and gives a heavy sigh. Leaving whatever he hid beneath his pillow where it is, he settles into a cross-legged position and gestures for me to join him.

I remove my shoes and sit on the bed the same way .

"Um, the man who was wrecking the tour last week?" Jeffrey begins. "You know, the one who was rude and awful to me? I saw him at Sage this morning. He was blind, as if something had clawed through his eyes. Did you… do that to him?"

"Yes," I say. After all, I cannot lie to him and would not want to.

" Why ?" Jeffrey demands.

"Because you wished it."

"I did not wish for that!"

"But you did. You wished: for there to be no more options for enemies sabotaging you in the future, and for me to have whatever autonomy I need to help with saving Madame Mattie's."

Jeffrey leans back from me as if horrified. "That meant you needed to blind him?"

"It seemed the most fitting solution."

"That's insane! I wish for you to never hurt anyone ever again!" he hurls at me.

"I am sorry, Jeffrey, but I cannot grant that."

" What ?"

"I cannot grant something that goes against someone's nature, including my own."

The horror in Jeffrey's eyes grows. He turns his head, as if wanting to glance back at whatever he hid, but he resists the urge to do so fully. "You'd never hurt me , right?"

"Not physically."

"What does that mean? "

When questions begin to be asked like this, there is nothing quite as frustrating as being unable to skip past the specifics required and simply tell him everything. But I cannot. "It means what I said. None of my previous masters or mistresses kept me, Jeffrey, b-because…" I try to say more, but I can't. My curse prevents me.

"Because there is a catch," Jeffrey says sadly, "and this is it. You're dangerous."

I tilt my head because of course I am dangerous. But what I say is, "I can be."

"Then why didn't you tell me that the first time I asked if there was a catch?"

"You did not ask. You stated, ‘there has to be a downside, a trick to this, a catch,' but you did not ask me if there was one."

Jeffrey pants, in obvious distress. "How do I fix it? How do I wish to fix this?"

"You cannot wish for that, Jeffrey. You asked once if I could be freed with a wish. I cannot be."

"Did you want to hurt that man?"

"As much as you did."

"But I wouldn't have acted on it! Why, why did you do that? Tell me the real reason."

"I am compelled to extremes at times if it is part of a wish. To me, it feels natural. It feels necessary. I am sorry if that upsets you." I try again to say more, but until Jeffrey asks the remaining right questions, my lips are sealed .

"This is what you meant." He nods to himself. "This is how what was done to you is punishment. You can't really control yourself."

"Not completely, no."

"But I just have to keep wishing, right?" He sits up taller. "And be more careful about what I wish? Then it can be okay? Right?"

"It… could be." I make my hesitation clear, because if he means to avoid my extremes, that may not be possible. Although I can sense so much from him and know some things through him, I cannot always tell when my actions to fulfill a wish are more than what he would want. I cannot always care, for I become a creature of compulsion.

"But you were so perfect." Jeffrey's voice catches on a sob. He wrings his hands and drops his head down as the tears begin to fall. "This was all so perfect…"

"No one is perfect, Jeffrey, much as I would be for you, if I could be."

He sobs harder. "But… why am I always the one who's wrong?" After a longer series of sniffles, he rubs at his eyes. "I'm sorry. It's not your fault. You didn't deserve what happened to you. I don't want to blame you. It just scares me. Is there a way to fix this, even if I can't wish for it?" At last, he looks up again through eyes that are especially green with tears in them.

"Yes."

"But you can't tell me exactly how? "

"No."

"Then I will figure it out on my own." He wipes at his eyes again with added determination. "Because you want me to, right? You want to stay with me like you said you did, right?"

I brush away the rest of his stubborn tears and keep my hand on his cheek. As fearful as he may be, it pleases me that he does not flinch. "Yes, Jeffrey. Very much."

Jeffrey leans into my touch and smiles. "Then it'll be okay. It will be. For now, I… I wish —" The elation hits me, waiting for the inevitable drop-off once I grant whatever he asks for "—for us to watch another movie together so we can forget about all the bad things that happened today."

Oh, Jeffrey. I have scared his tender soul and cannot say if I will avoid doing so again. I move slowly in case he does not desire the kiss I press to his lips.

He kisses me back, and I whisper:

"Granted."