Marisburg Chronicles (#8)

Date Published: February 6, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press

When Riku ran from the trouble caused by his lover’s family, he
wasn’t quite sure what he was running to. He left his beloved behind,
abandoning his heart’s desire in the name of escape. Now, in a job he
loves but missing that critical piece of his soul, he mourns, longing for the
companionship as much as the sexual tension.

Theo has given chase, all the way across the country. He wants closure if
nothing else, but that would be a terrible second choice. What he longs for is
to have Riku back in his life and in his bed.

Now, with all the time and former distance between them, can Riku and Theo
move past the merely physical cravings of “I missed you” to a
confession of their true feelings?

HotSpot Universal Media had taken off in the late nineties and seemed to grow
exponentially every year. Theo’s parents’ company wasn’t
exactly the only universal design organization that worked with people of all
different abilities, but it had been one of the first to open its doors and
actually make a profit.

Every time Theo had to recite that bit of historical dogma, he felt both proud
and like he was rubbing his competitors’ noses in shit. He was so glad
to have a job when many people with visual impairment and hearing loss
couldn’t find work, but he was also profoundly aware that HUM traded as
much in bad press for others as it did in good reviews.

He leaned back in the seat of the Audi and closed his eyes, effectively
shutting out the world. He wore headphones that the driver could talk through
to get his attention if need be, but mostly the noise cancelling was to soothe
his over-stressed brain. He’d just spent four days at a conference
touting the importance of the universal design company, using the catch phrase
his parents’ marketing team had come up with three or four years ago:
Charity begins at HUM.

He was suddenly distracted by a wet nose on his ankle. He tended to wear
low-riding socks when he wasn’t in public and today was no exception.
His service dog was either just shifting or she was asking for pets. He
reached down without opening his eyes and found her head. He rubbed her
stand-up ears affectionately. She shifted a little closer and lifted her head,
giving him access to the spot under her chin. She liked to be scratched there.

Grinning, breathing out a good chunk of stress, and feeling grateful for
Capitaine’s monitoring of his mood, Theo murmured, “Good
girl.”

“Did you say something, sir?” Carlton asked through his
headphones.

“Nope.” He felt his grin stretch. “Capitaine just needed
some attention.”

“Very good, sir.”

He couldn’t break Carlton of the habit of calling him “sir.”
Probably that was because the man was former military. Theo supposed it was
better than not getting any respect, but the stiff interactions he had with
the family’s staff made him extraordinarily self-conscious. He much
preferred the occasionally awkward discussions he had with the businesspeople
he worked with. Often, their responses were confused, as they were unsure how
to talk to someone who was mostly deaf and losing more vision weekly, or so it
seemed.

His phone rang, buzzing against his leg and sounding in his ears. He pressed a
button and said, “Hello, this is Theodore Billings.” He
didn’t recognize the number, but that wasn’t unusual. He got lots
of random calls from folks trying to get him to fund their project or
business.

“Sir, it’s Omar Jeffries. I’m sorry I’m calling from a
strange number, but my cell is dead and I forgot my charger in the
hotel.”

The private investigator sounded excited, or at least not as discouraged as he
had during the last three conversations over the last two months. Theo sat up
a little straighter and, after giving Capitaine one more pat, turned all his
attention to finding out what Omar knew. “Good news?” he asked,
trying to make his voice casual. He failed as a frisson of excitement bubbled
up.

“I’m in Pennsyltucky and –”

Theo frowned and before he could stop himself, he asked, “Do you mean
Pennsylvania?” He didn’t like unfriendly names for things. He
tended to think there was too much division in the country at large.

Omar took a breath. “Yes, sir. Sorry. I’m in a rural part of the
state and even if this little town is a hotbed of culture, it’s
surrounded by farmland and…”

Theo heard him take another breath. Whatever he had to tell, he was letting
his passion overcome his caution.

Did that mean he’d found something concrete?

“It’s a little town west of Philadelphia. Maybe an hour outside
the city.”

“What’s the proof you’ve found this time?”

“Not just proof, boss. He’s actually living in a house with a gay
couple. I’ve seen him, and he and the one man went out and bought him
some new clothes, I think.”

Jealousy threatened to swallow Theo’s common sense then. He blurted,
“Did they… Is Riku their third?”

“I don’t think so. I snuck a peek in the window when he forgot to
shut the curtains. He sleeps downstairs on an inflatable mattress, although I
don’t know why he doesn’t sleep on the couch that’s
available.” He paused and then added, “Maybe he’s too tall
to be comfortable. It’s more like a loveseat than a sofa.”

Theo’s heartbeat had picked up. He closed one hand into a loose fist and
put it against his chest as hope coursed through him. “What’s he
doing there?”

“I think he’s looking for work. He’s bought, or had bought
for him, actually, a new suit.”

“Philadelphia… All right. I’ll get plane tickets and fly
out there. What’s the name of the town?”

“It’s more like a tiny village than a town. It’s called
Marisburg.”

Riku Watanabe, feeling like a caged bird, stared in horror at the orange cat
fur that coated his suit jacket and trousers. “Fuck,” he
whispered. He reminded himself the interview wasn’t today, that there
was time to wash the clothing again, only… wasn’t at least part
of the suit supposed to be dry cleaned? He couldn’t remember. He plunged
his fingers into his hair and groaned. It wasn’t that he didn’t
like cats, although he preferred dogs. He just didn’t need anything else
to go wrong before his interview at the school for the deaf tomorrow.

Someone touched his shoulder and he jumped. He could be snuck up on easily
with his limited hearing, but that didn’t mean he liked being startled.
He opened his mouth to snap at Peter, remembering just in time that Peter
might be able to read his lips. He was here on sufferance, or that was what it
felt like, and he didn’t want to offend one of his hosts.

Since coming to Marisburg, Pennsylvania, shortly before the Christmas holiday,
he’d nearly gotten himself thrown out due to rudeness on more than one
occasion. He didn’t want that to happen, not with his future on the
line.

Peter raised an eyebrow in inquiry and Riku shook his head, flapping his hands
helplessly. Then he pointed at the suit, which he’d laid, neatly, in a
cardboard box to keep it from getting dirty. Or at least that had been the
vain hope.

Peter took a look and his mouth opened, releasing a sound that was loud but
undeniably amused. He shut his mouth an instant later, looking embarrassed.

Riku shook his head and signed, “You’re laughing at me?”

“Do you know anything about cats?” Peter signed back. Then,
without waiting for Riku to respond, he continued. “Cats love boxes.
‘If I fits, I sits,’ applies to cats. They especially love being
surrounded by walls, or a semblance of walls, on all sides. That’s why
cat scales in a veterinarian’s office are often squares with pretty tall
sides.” He peered at the suit. “Tracks has really made himself at
home. Let me get the lint rollers. At least he didn’t put any holes in
the fabric.”

Peter was gone about two minutes, long enough for Riku to reconsider his
frustration level. When Peter reappeared, Riku asked, his hands trembling just
a little with nerves, “Would Abe give me a ride to the school, do you
think?” He didn’t want to mention the rideshares and how they
might not get him to his destination on time tomorrow. He wasn’t sure if
asking Abe was a bigger imposition than he already assumed. If he hadn’t
had to give up his car in Colorado, or stop using his credit card in Ohio,
maybe he wouldn’t feel so trapped. He’d been without a job for
over a year, and seven months ago he’d packed up what little he thought
he could manage to use that actually belonged to him, and he’d fled
East.

Swallowing hard, he watched Peter anxiously.

Peter set down both lint brushes and frowned at him. “Of course Abe will
take you. The two of us may not agree with some of your spontaneous actions
but we want to see you happily employed.” He paused and then added,
“I mean, you know a lot about teaching English.”

Riku flushed. He’d been ranting, really, about the differences between
ASL and spoken English and how learning both was a challenge for anyone, but
especially for the deaf community. The languages shared much in common, but
the ways they were different outnumbered the similarities.

Peter pointed at himself. “I thought ASL was the superior language, but
you made me realize it’s equal to the spoken word.” He shook his
head, looking rueful. “I wonder if that’s one of the reasons my
wife broke up with me. She could tell I was prejudiced.”

Peter had been married before his union with Abe? Riku asked silently, then
out loud, “You’re bisexual?”

Peter nodded. Then he changed the subject. “Don’t worry about Abe
missing work or anything. It’s his practice, and if he needs to take
off, ever, he plans for it.”

Riku sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just anxious. I want this to go
well.”

Peter’s eyes widened. It seemed a strange reaction to Riku’s
words.

Glancing over his shoulder, Riku spotted the Siamese cat, who was a new
addition to the Peter-and-Abe household, rubbing his cheek against the box.
Riku hurried over to rescue his suit before it had cream-colored hairs on it
too.

Peter handed him one of the de-furring brushes. He set his down for a moment
and then signed, “Breathe. You’re going to do a great job
tomorrow. As for your suit, we’ll hang it in the hall closet and keep
the door shut.”

Grateful, Riku nodded and the two of them set about cleaning off the
inordinate amount of cat fur.

As he worked, though, Riku’s thoughts turned, as they often had since
he’d left San Francisco, to the life he’d abandoned. He’d
had few acquaintances that weren’t hangers-on, wanting a handout from
Theo, but he’d had his lover. That had, largely, been enough. Not
because he was a hermit by choice but because most of his interactions with
others had been online. There had been enough drama in the deaf community to
keep people entertained for years, and in the deafblind circles where Theo
sometimes ran, all anyone seemed to be able to do was talk about each other.
Theo had once explained that tendency with “many don’t have access
to the technology that would make reading the news or keeping up with other
current events possible, so, being human, they talk about what they know —
other humans.”

Riku was taking care of the trousers, removing stripes of furry orange from
the dark blue fabric while he chewed over why he missed his old life so much.
It wasn’t just that he’d had a consistent roof over his head. It
wasn’t the creature comforts, although there had been plenty of those.
It was the quiet evenings, snuggled up with Theo while his lover read over
applications. It was the passionate sex and the post-coital cuddles and
kisses.

Was he simply dwelling on the good things he’d left behind? Well, yes…

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender
women’s speculative fiction. Seeking a world made of equality, she
created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its
problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host
of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires. And in the
contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,” Emily
has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a passionate
quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central or on her
website.

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