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“Thanks, by the way.”
The rain is pouring hard enough on the window for Merriell to not hear Eugene, along with the radio quietly playing. It’s an old model, so there’s static to the radio, and every song plays like it’s a broken record. Merriell can’t stand pure static and the Emergency Alert system, so he turns on Supertramp. He knows how much Eugene loves them. It makes him smile at how much an old soul Eugene is. But through this, Merriell could read his lips.
Merriell put down the steaming cup of Manglier tea on the nightstand. He bent on his knees to look at Eugene, who’s whole face was red, “Yeah. Anytime.”
Taking off the cloth on Eugene’s head, Merriell felt his forehead. It was still hot, but not as hot as it was earlier. Eugene’s breathing was back to normal, so it was a good sign. Not great, but Merriell preferred to take good news over bad. The power had been out for three days, which was a curse of living in buttfuck Louisiana. While the storm raged outside, Eugene and Merriell laid low. They watched movies on Eugene’s MacBook, made canned beans over a fire, and cuddled for warmth with Fat Louie, their fat cat.
But of course, Eugene got sick with a cold and Merriell didn’t know how to take care of him. Eugene got sick easily and he had a weak immune system. So it was a two birds with one stone situation, and Merriell didn’t know what exactly to do, so he was fucked. A common cold for him was like a virus, and Merriell was his lone caretaker.
Merriell always hated the house that they lived in. He had a lot of bad memories from his childhood, but good ones too. With Eugene mostly. The one good thing about the house was his Ma’s old cookbook, and her remedies for treating the sick. Maybe she was good for something besides yelling at Merriell.
“How are you feeling?” Merriell asked as he dipped the cloth into hot water, squeezing out any of the excess.
Eugene shifted on the mattress, curling the blanket in his fists, “Better than yesterday. Just, cold.”
Merriell let out a sigh and dropped the cloth. He turned to look at Eugene and stretched his arms. Eugene could see his slim tan stomach, with a faint trail of dark hair. Merriell let out a grunt as he crawled onto the bed and right next to Eugene, laying next to him. He rolled over and draped his arms over Eugene’s shoulder, their foreheads nuzzling together.
“Mhm. You’re warm.” Merriell mumbled as a smile curved on his lips.
“Yeah, it’s the fever.” Eugene weakly whined, “I don’t wanna get you sick.”
Merriell put on a pout and whispered into his ear, “Aw, sha. Jus’ tryin’ to make yo’ feel better.”
As Merriell leaned against the headboard, he hit the back of his head and fell back down, letting out a groan. Eugene tried to hold back his daughter, but he couldn’t. Of course, it resulted in a coughing fit.
Merriell held the back of his head, “Fuck you.”
“Yeah, fuck you too,” Eugene chuckles with a few lingering coughs. The harder he laughs, the harder it is to breathe. Eugene breaks into a fit of coughs. Merriell crawls over and puts his hand on Eugene’s back, gently patting it.
“Eugene. Gene. Gene .” He says, repeating himself. Eugene stops and looks up, clearing his throat. Merriell pushes Eugene’s red bangs back, tenderly patting his head.
“You okay?”
Eugene nods and slumps back onto the pillow. He lets out a sigh and takes the cup of tea, looking down at it. It's dark water with little vines inside of it. Eugene takes one out and examines the skinny, soggy leaf with the little petals.
“Don’t these grow outside of the house?” Eugene examines.
Merriell rests his head on Eugene's shoulder and makes a typical Merriell noise. Eugene knows Merriell well enough to believe that it’s a yes.
“Manglier plants. My mom used to give it to us during the winter. It helps with colds n’ that stuff. Creoles n’ Natives used it before us. Unlike y’all rick folks up in Mobile, we don’t like to be helpless down in the Bayo.”
Eugene rolled his eyes as he took a long sip from the tea. It was somewhat bitter, but Eugene could taste the tiny amount of the overly sweet honey in the cup. Merriell looked over at him. Eugene quietly tasted the tea, and enjoyed himself. God, Eugene was annoying-but he was so damn cute.
Fat Louie, Merriell’s fat cat, jumped onto the bed and bumped onto Merriell’s chest. Fat Louie plopped down, making himself comfortable as Merriell sat there, laying in an awkward position.
“What the hell? Lou,” Merriell let out a groan as the cat death glared at him, “Get off. Now.”
Fat Louie simply grumbled and laid flat on his chest, even letting his paws hang off of him. Merriell just let out a sigh. Eugene watched the ordeal and looked at Louie, nodding at him.
“Good cat, Lou.”
Merriell looked down at Eugene, his head falling on Eugene’s shoulder, “Don’t encourage the behavior, boo. Wait ‘till the shoes on the other foot.”
There was a pleasant silence between the two men. Merriell laid on Eugene’s shoulder, and Fat Lou laid on Merriell’s chest and kept rubbing it in his parent’s faces. The rain made a tapping noise against the window, and it was the first time Eugene had felt calm. Maybe he’d actually get some shut eye, and maybe he’d feel a little better and he’d then be able-
“You wanna hear a story, boo?”
Great.
Eugene let out a long sigh, “If It’s about The Grunch, then no.”
“One, fuck you. And two, it’s not about the grunch,” Merriell said. Yes, they truly did have the most healthy relationship. Eugene accepted his fate and leaned against the pillow as Merriell grabbed Eugene’s hand, playing with his fingers, “It’s about Le Feu Follet .”
“The old French film?”
Merriell shook his head, “Legend has it ‘dat if you go down to the marshlands late at night, like real’ late, you’ll see these little fairies. ‘Dere like fireflies. Some say there someone you care ‘bout, others say there little devils. Meant to drag you down into the swamps and all that bad shit.”
“So the moral of the story is if you see a glowing light at night, don’t follow it?”
“No, cher. You're missing the point. Use that little head of yours and think.
As Merriell continued to fiddle with Eugene’s hand, Eugene took Merriell's hand in his and put his hand on top of Merriell’s, which caught him by surprise.
“Your trying to drown me?”
“No-fuck. I thought you were smart. I’m saying your. Fuck,” Merriell got frustarted, “What do you call those towers? They sit by the sea and look out?”
“Lighthouse.”
“Right! What I’m saying is, you're a lighthouse nobody can see. Cuz y’know...”
Eugene smiled to himself as his eyes looked at Merriell’s, who had a shit eating grin on his face, “Yeah, I know. ‘Cause we live in the middle of a swamp. I know. That’s kinda cute, but it took you a while to get to it.”
“Aw Cher, you’re so sweet,” Merriell gave Eugene’s cheek a peck, “Oh, and since you like that show. Firefly or whatever.”
“It’s a good show. When we get power back, watch it with it?”
Merriell nodded his head and nuzzled into Eugene’s shoulder. Leaning back, Eugene closed his eyes.
Maybe Merriell would let him sleep- for once.