Tough job

   The body arrived at the morgue very late at night. Doctor Smith was there to receive it and check it before anyone else. It was one of those cases that she hated to attend: a suicide. The victims were often very young, kids that hadn’t even known love or anything in life, all the good things that she knew came up later in life, during college or when you started to live as an adult. Doctor Smith was still young, or so she like to think, so the see those young people on her table was beyond heartbreaking.

 She had the obligation to check the body in order to give a proper statement of what had happened, no matter how many witnesses were there. Insurance companies were to blame in this case, because most people would never want their children or parents being opened up only to check something that was already known. But it was part of her work and she just had to do it and in those dark hours of the night, which didn’t really make things better. She just put on her gloves and started working.

 The body had multiple lacerations, deep cuts in the wrists and even some smaller ones in other parts of the body, as in the chest, the face and the thighs. She took pictures of all of it, putting special attention to the smallest incisions, which she believed had been caused by a razor blade. A knife would never be that exact or cut in that way. Besides, she knew perfectly how different cuts looked. She had too much experience with things like that, so she tried not to overthink this when checking a body.

 After taking the pictures, she started checking for other marks on his body. She only found one big lump on her head, probably caused by something hitting that point a while ago. It hadn’t fully healed but it was there and it was still noticeable. She took pictures of the head, carefully tilting it to one side and to the other. Touching their faces was always overwhelming, and she had a technique for it: she looked straight at them and thought of her children, her family and every happy face she had seen recently.

 Sometimes she cried in silence when she checked the bodies, but it was always for a little while. She would then dried her tears with a tissue and move on with her work. But that time, her phone rang when it never did. It was too late at night and her bosses would never call at that time. She wished, but she would often get up to their calls, in the afternoon. It was the worst thing to have to sleep at odd hours and then be awakened by them, calling to ask things that she had already reported on thoroughly. But as with everything, she had grown accustomed to it.

 That time, it was one of her bosses who had been awakened himself by a call. Apparently, the body Doctor Smith had on her table was not only the body of a victim of suicide, but also the one of the son of a prominent government official. They were calling every single person in the city that could help cover up what had happened, at least for a little while. Apparently, the man was part of a very religious cult that had been growing in reconnaissance all over the country and he had gained his post because of that.

 To the doctor, it all reeked of corruption and she hated to be part of things like that. She had been asked to do things like that before but she had always been saved by her bosses at the very last minute. This time though, there was no way someone would save her from doing something she really didn’t wanted to do. She told her boss she hadn’t finish the autopsy, so that he should call her later in the day for when she had completed the whole thing. From then on, they could discuss the delay of the final report, not before.

 The man was about to talk further but she hung up and he didn’t call back. She had been clear enough and she had a job to do. Her hands were shaking, because all of those attitudes made her really mad, but she tried to clear her head and move on to more pressing things. She started opening the body a while after she had hung up. Everything inside of the boy was normal, nothing was out of place except some strange abnormalities that she didn’t recognize at first, and so she decided to do some tests.

 A thorough blood test would take a long time in a regular hospital but in a morgue it was a little bit faster. It would take an hour or so, time she spent checking the rest of the body and having something to eat. After all, she hadn’t eaten one bite for a long time. Her husband would often pack some things to snack on at work, because he knew very well she missed meals because of her work. In spite of it all, she loved what she did and really thought she made a difference for the rest of the world.

 She ate a yogurt, a banana and when she was in the middle of a cookie, the blood test was completed by the computer. She finished eating while reading the information and she was shocked to see what was on the screen. She looked at the body and looked at its surroundings. She put on a new pair of gloves and checked carefully for blood on the table and on herself. She used a mirror that was always there, unused, to see if she was safe. It was horrible to think like that but she knew being careless was unforgivable. HIV was not something to take on lightly.

 How a seventeen-year-old kid had been infected with that various, she did not know. And suddenly she realized why they wanted everything to be covered up and delayed. It wasn’t the fact that the kid had committed suicide but that he had HIV and maybe even that he was gay… That was too much to assume, because drug addicts were also prone to the disease, but she had checked the body carefully and there were not traces of injections on his arms or anywhere else on his body. She checked again but the results were the same.

 Doctor Smith closed the body and left it as untouched as she could. She finished late or very early, however people may have thought about it. She expected another call from her boss soon, as her shift was not very far from ending. However, he did not do that but decided to get there in person, which was highly irregular. What was even worse, was the fact the child’s parent was also in the building, apparently waiting for his cover up to be confirmed. Her blood was boiling once again.

 She explained the case to her superior and he just listened to everything she had found. When she finished reporting her results, he asked if she had written it all already. And she nodded; she had finished only minutes before their arrival. She had printed out a copy and put the digital version on a portable device. The man grabbed both and then told her it was very important that she understood that no part of that information could leak out of the building. He then announced the man was going to see the body.

 Before she could protest the man and his bodyguards were there. She asked the armed men to leave, stating that they had to respect the bodies that were stored in that room. So they left and only the doctor, her boss and the parent stayed there in silence. She looked at the politician as he looked at his son. She tried to decipher what that look on his face meant, but it was too hard. The man was an expert already; he had learned to use that same face in his political life and had found a way to use in his personal one.

 The man left a few minute afterwards. Her boss took the information away and reminded her of shutting her lips, as saying anything could endanger all of their posts and even their lives. The man had grown too powerful and it was necessary to know not to talk until they knew exactly what to say.

 Her boss left too and her shift finally ended. She was tired and her head was spinning. She thought it was criminal what was happening but she had no say in the matter, her voice had been silenced in a second. It was good to leave for home though, and enjoy that life that seemed so far away from her work.

My partner

   When I saw him, I could only laugh. He looked at me exactly in the opposing way, making his eyes turn around as if he had just witnessed the most annoying thing happening right in front of him. That was the kind of relationship we had the moment we started working together. For some reason, our boss had decided our skills complimented each other’s, so he appointed us to missions together very often. I have forgotten how many times I pretended to be his brother, his friends and even his boyfriend or even husband.

 It all depended on the places we had to go and the things we had to do. Sometimes, the mission would be a very relaxing cruise through the Caribbean on an enormous boat that would float peacefully for over a week, carrying carefree tourists around. People that just wanted to get a tan and swim and maybe walk the massive ship, enjoying everything the place had to offer. Yes, I have to confess I loved those kinds of missions but we got assigned to them because they were specifically for rookies in this business.

 I remember one time; only about a year after we got to know each other properly, when we were sent to the Bahamas pretending to be a married gay couple going on an exclusively gay cruise. We had to steal some very important papers out of the office of a very important businessman who happened to be frolicking in the boat with his lover, unknown to his wife. It was a hilarious place and situation to be in, and of course stealing the plans was the easiest part of the whole thing. We did it the first night.

 For the other eight days, we had to hold hands pretending to love each other to death, when in reality we had almost hate for one another. Well, it wasn’t really hated but we certainly didn’t see eye to eye. He was the kind of guy that loves to focus on the job and is obsessed by doing everything by the book, like a little boy scout trapped in an adult man’s body. That to me annoyed me so much that I would often just go rogue for a couple of hours and that would, of course, made him go insane, a result I always loved.

 In the bedrooms, we agreed on sleeping on the same bed but avoiding anything weird during the night. No touching each other’s private space, especially not each other’s bodies. The first one to wake up would be the first one into the shower and so on. After a few months, we had a great system that avoided, almost always, any unpleasant moments during our missions. And as they would often take long periods of time to get over with, we just had to find a way to live with one another. It was almost a sacrifice for both of them and we did it because it was our job.

 However, those were our first missions, years one and two. By the third one, they sent us to shorter missions that required a greater deal of commitment from our part. In not so many words, that means that we had to risk our lives during those assignments. Sometimes, we wouldn’t even see each other but once, in critical moments. Besides those, we would often fly solo and assume unrelated identities. I have to confess it was kind of fun at first, playing to be so many different types of men, so many times.

 But after a while, it got annoying and the stakes started looking at me in the face. On my first mission, I got fired several times and they had to pull me out of a dumpster with a bullet on my thigh and several cuts all over my body. It was a weird experience, which was better than what my former partner was going through. I say former, because sometime after we started that decisive year, the bosses decided we wouldn’t be working together as often as we had done in the past. They said it was the right thing to do.

 However, I heard a drug lord almost killed him, after his disguise as a dealer was blown by some snitch. The snitch got killed right in front of him and the drug lord ordered his people to tie my former partner to a pipe and beat him up in every way they wanted. I have no idea of the details, but some people say he could have been killed if it hadn’t been for his security bracelet, which was a secret piece of equipment we all wear that activates itself if we fail to report to it at least once a day.

 You see, the drug lord took all of his clothes away and let him in a cold basement for at least four days. So the bracelet activated itself, called for back up to that specific location and the agent was saved. I was in a mission during that time, so I just heard it all from others. I was tempted to visit him in the hospital, the moment I was able to go back home, but I decided against it. Actually, I realized I was caring for someone I had never cared before, and that confused me enough to do nothing and go back to my life.

 It was almost a year later when they assigned us to a mission together. This time, it was a classic spy stunt: we had no covers, nothing sleek or sexy or nice. We just had to get our hands on a witness, extract him from a certain country, and go back home with that person alive. It was a nightmarish place to be, a horrible experience to be having. But, between all of it, I have to admit I was comforted when I saw his face in the airport the day we left for our mission. I wanted to tell him something but had no idea what to say. So, again, I decided to stay quiet and focus on the mission at hand.

 As predicted, the situation was dire. We had guns and a contact, but that was all blown to hell the second day of our stay in that dreadful hellhole. A group of guys attempted to blow us up in a crappy hotel. It was just luck that the cleaning lady had gone in before us. I know, that sounds insensitive but you kind of lose that part of yourself in such a job. We just started running and killing them all to get the fuck out of there. And in that moment, we were the best team anyone could have ever hoped for.

 It was as if our minds were connected, as well as our bodies. We didn’t even have to look at each other to work in unison; it was almost like a dance that has all the perfect moves to be the best anyone has ever seen. At the same time, I realized we weren’t the same people that had enjoyed those cruises and nice hotels at the start of this whole thing. We were two entirely different men and it showed. I saw it in his eyes the moment we started running away and I had felt it in myself for a long time before that. It just had been confirmed.

 He surprised me with his knowledge of the underworld of that city. Maybe he had been there before or maybe he had just changed that much. I had heard that after his traumatic experience, he had stayed on his post, taking many other risky assignments. He had a nice fiancé at the start but eventually she left him and no one could point at the exact thing that had caused that rift. However, the job was not one where you could see a lot of happy endings. So I understood if that had been the reason why he had decided to be left alone.

 In time, we got our witness and got her out of that place. It was by the skin of our teeth, as I was shot in the shoulder moments before our party rescued us on the border. The thing was, he had stepped in front of me and blocked most bullets by using a metal door as a shield. Only that one bullet had been able to reach me. Making me lose a lot of blood. I fainted in the helicopter that was carrying us and woke up many days later, back home, in a hospital bed. I was very dizzy, so what I saw seemed very unreal.

 It was him. He was fast asleep in the only furniture in the room other than my hospital bed, a very old sofa that seemed to have seen better days. When the nurse came in, she told me he had been there for over two days, never leaving for his home, never going anywhere. He just stayed there.

 After she left, I watched him sleep for a while. And as I did that, I tried to understand the whole situation. It was confusing for me and I know it must be the same for him. So I just decided to think it through another day. What was important was that I felt safe now, and I could finally rest properly for a few days.

Movie lights

   Alex walked by Roman, who was helping with the lights. They had to grab the wires and put them neatly into a circular position, in order for the metal parts not to get damages. But the lights were too hot still to put away. So he asked his boss what he should do next and he was sent to the changing room of the actors, which happened to be one of the big bathrooms in the house. Apparently, the director had found the property online and just new it was the perfect setting for many of his movies.

 As Roman entered the bathroom, Alex was there. He was still naked and talking to his co-star Yuri. The young assistant asked where the boxes with their costumes were and it was Yuri who pointed at three boxes stacked up in a corner. For a moment though, Roman was able to notice that Yuri had been crying as his eyes were very red and he was trying to hide them as much as possible from anyone else. As Roman fixed the boxes to be able to lift them all at the same time, he heard part of the actors’ conversation.

Apparently. Yuri’s family was in desperate need of money. However, the month was not over yet so he had no money he could send to them. He sent almost everything he earned to them back in Belarus, only keeping enough to pay for a room in a shared apartment in a very crappy neighborhood of Los Angeles. The director intended him to be the next big star in the business, but that was in its early stages and Yuri’s family couldn’t wait that long. He feared they would be evicted if the money wasn’t paid.

 The assistant did not hear much more after that. He decided to get out of there as soon as he could, as he didn’t want the actors to notice he was overhearing on purpose. He was just very interested on the different kinds of people that worked on such a business. It had been his mother who had asked her brother to get her son a job. Her brother happened to be part of a production company that worked with various people, including those who provided entertainment for the adult video industry.

 She didn’t mind. Her mother was very liberal in that sense. For her, the most important thing was for her son to understand the value of money, of effort and perseverance. He was still young, actually underage. But she wanted him to get a job in the summer in order not to have the same problems he had every single summer in the past. He had even been in the police station once, after he had decided making graffiti in the neighborhood’s park was a great idea. She wanted him to stay away from trouble and a job, any job, would probably make all that messy stuff go away.

 Of course, her brother explained to her the kinds of places her son would work in and she didn’t mind. She told him that her son knew very well what sex was and that people that worked in that business were just that, workers. Whether they were actors or the lighting crew, they were all doing a job and they were all getting paid for it. Her son would get paid to, but not as much as an official worker. Her brother had to pass him for a “personal helper” of sorts, because of his sixteen years of age.

 The good thing was that, as most kids in the United States; Roman had developed early in his life and by age sixteen he was already sporting facial hair and very tall and lean figure. According to his mother, he was the spitting image of his father, a man that had been known to be very handsome in his early years. Sadly, he had been killed in a bank robbery a couple of years before. That was also the reason why the family could actually make good use of another salary, no matter how miserable it could be.

 So Roman understood Yuri’s dilemma. As he crossed the hallways of the big house with the boxes, he thought about part of his salary going to his mother and how he thought that was unfair at first, but then realized that it was necessary to pay the bills that kept his house going. He came to appreciate his work because of that and his mother too, for having the good sense to send him out into the world and make him work to feel how things work in life. He left the boxes in the truck, still thinking.

 When he came back into the house for the lights, both Alex and Yuri were already dressed and coming out of the bathroom. They looked both like the type of guys someone would see on the beach, parading around with clothes that made their bodies look even better. They were very beautiful and Roman often had a lot to think after seeing them perform. He wasn’t sure if he was gay or straight or what. But he knew that they were very attractive and he had a certain respect for them because of it.

 As he put one of the lights on the respective crate, he saw Yuri walk out of the house with a tissue on his hand and his eyes still red, but Alex stayed in and actually walked towards him. He sat down on a sofa nearby and just looked at the kid as he did his work. Once the light was on its crate, Roman started the same process with another one. Alex then spoke, asking Roman how old he was. The question made Roman very nervous because both his mother and uncle had told him several times not to reveal the information to anyone. It could mean the end of his job and his uncle’s too.

 So he just said he was old enough to be there. Alex smiled, still watching Roman do his job. Then, he started telling him how the whole industry can be quite the monster. Of course, he said, being beautiful and appreciated feels great, but the best thing of it all is when someone tells you that what you did can only be accomplished by you and no one else. That sense of power and being special really makes the difference in any job. Or at least that was what Alex thought after working in many different things.

 He told Roman he was twenty-six years old and he had started doing movies seven years ago, when money for college was low and his family had threatened to stop funding his studies. He wanted to become a veterinarian. He told Roman he had two dogs now and a small rat named Stevie. That made Roman smile and Alex did so too, because he knew he was listening. He told the kid how he was able to finish school because of his work doing movies and how he even got to pay for a place of his own.

 Then, there was silence. As Roman put the last light crate away, Alex told him that Yuri was in a similar but worse position. Roman stayed to hear the story. According to Alex, Yuri had arrived to the United States only two years ago. He was an illegal immigrant who had come to the country with a legal tourist visa but had just overstayed his welcome. Apparently, Belarus was not the best country for gay people. And it seemed it wasn’t a great place to fin work either, so he decided to basically flee.

 He had a mother and two sisters there; their father had left them for another woman years ago. None of them had any idea what he was doing in Los Angeles. But he sent them almost all of their money and now they needed more or they would loose their house. Alex stopped talking and then looked at Roman straight in the eye. He asked the young man if he had a good family, if he knew how difficult life could be. He told him that even if it all looks nice and easy from the outside, people always have shit under the rug.

 Roman told Alex he had a mother that was crazy but that loved him endlessly. He also said his uncle was a very good person. Finally, he told Alex he knew not everything is what it seems but that it was precisely that which fascinated him from the world of adult entertainment.

 He lifted two of the crates and carried them to the truck. When he came back for the other one, Alex was gone. Roman told his uncle about Yuri’s problems and the man promised he would talk to the director. People don’t imagine it, but in such a small community, people tend to help one another, no strings attached.