Time Warp: Under African Skies (Josh)

[Dr. Sean Neville]

2033.


Sean had worked at Hammel for over forty years; he had given the vast majority of his working life to the school, spending countless tens of thousands of hours (if not more so) to the students, to the other staff members, and to the institution as a whole.

After dedicating so much of his life to his work, he felt both comfortable and strange retiring. Comfortable because he had earned his golden years. Strange because, after working for so long, he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

However, he and Josh had made an agreement. They would each work until their early to mid-seventies, and, upon reviewing their finances, they would mutually retire. The telepath’s health remained good for his age, and he didn’t have to counteract decades of smoking and eating poorly. Still, he was three years older than his partner, which meant far more in the elderly stage of life than it did in middle age, and Josh had greater longevity in his genes.

They wanted a few golden years together, to relax and travel, while they were still healthy.

Between their investments, Josh’s 401K and IRA from his two separate law firms, joint Social Security payments, and Sean’s incredibly generous pension from Hammel (which tended to happen at a high pay grade, in a valuable position, held for four decades), they had more than enough to live on.

They had debated back and forth what to do with their particular retirement plans. Travel, of course, but they could hardly do that for five or more years. They would return to some form of civilian life at some point to volunteer or do a bit of part-time teaching or support services for the community, but they had plenty of time beforehand. So they hoped.

Eventually, Sean bought them a house boat.

He had always wanted to own a house boat.

He had also always wanted to go to Hawaii, which was how their boat found itself anchored in Oahu.

The telepath sat on a deck chair with a cocktail in his hand, wearing a hat and sunglasses to protect his frailer and far too pale skin from the sun.

“So, First Mate, what do you feel like having for supper tonight?”

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh had slimmed down in his later years owing largely to a diminished appetite. He still had verve and energy aplenty, and he kept active to the best of his abilities such that the intern at his former office referred to him as spry.

And, in fact, people still assumed that he was younger than his seventy three years, although he had long since passed looking young. He had finally begun showing wiry iron gray hairs flecked among the dark, and he'd had to get a stronger prescription for his glasses.

But in the winter he slowed down quite a bit, the cold seeping into his bones and causing his joints and ribs to ache miserably. And he had a weak chest and was inclined to catch pneumonia easily. He was, therefore, thrilled by the prospect of living in a house boat and keeping to warmer climes.

"You know I'm easy, Captain. Maybe a chicken wrap, or egg salad on croissants."

Rich foods tended to upset his stomach now, which was just as well; his doctor had warned him several years ago that heart surgery would be pending if his diet didn't improve.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The fact that Josh continued to look younger than his actual age had begun to move from the occasional assumption about a larger age gap between them into more offensive territory. Multiple times, Sean had been asked how he landed a younger man, and Josh had been invited by the decades-younger spouses along for social gatherings. It had prompted a conversation about whether the former attorney should dye his hair grey, although, each time, the telepath said not to do it on his account.

He didn’t think that Josh should have to alter his appearance due to ignorant assumptions. There was nothing shameful in his partner having won the genetic lottery in terms of signs of aging. Where Josh did show his age – in his shirtless physique, in the wrinkles and spots and grey body hair – other people had no reason to see.

The telepath smiled up at his partner. “We have chicken breasts in the freezer.” They had stocked up on their last trip into the town for the market. “And some fresh vegetables. I’ll make us the chicken wraps and grill us some pineapple to go with them. How does that sound?”

The wraps, unlike egg salad and croissants, would give Josh much-needed vegetables. And his cholesterol would benefit from another day without heavy eggs and mayonnaise.

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh smiled at Sean's suggestion and pushed back the sun hat that flopped across his face so that he could better see his partner.

"That sounds delightful, Captain. Grilled pineapple! What a perfect treat for a tropical day."

He coughed roughly, the penalty for all those years of smoking in his earlier decades. The smoking combined with having once broken his ribs (or rather, having his ribs broken for him) had resulted in a great deal of coughing, frequently accompanied by slicing pain.

Such were the tribulations of growing old.

"I don't suppose I could interest you in a dance under the stars tonight after supper?"

Although his partner disliked dancing, Josh never had given up hope that one day he would be able to cajole a dance out of the other man.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“Then that’s what I’ll make,” Sean promised with a smile. His lifelong project of helping his partner to eat healthier had finally paid off, even if he had done so only with the combination of the telepath’s cooking, a threat from Josh’s doctor about pending heart surgery, and the diminished appetite that often accompanied elder age. Sean would do everything he could to help his partner forestall heart surgery, which meant vegetables and fruits and whole grains, while steeply cutting down on fats and oils.

If only he could help with the other man’s coughing and lung troubles. Josh had stopped smoking nearly twenty years ago, and he had benefitted from that, starting with the fact that he was cancer-free and that he still had both of his original lungs without suffering from emphysema. But three decades of smoking took its toll. Each deep or rattling cough earned a sympathetic look from Sean, as he waited for the episode to pass.

The retired psychiatrist had danced with his partner occasionally, sometimes when drunk, and sometimes as part of a present. But doing so brought him no direct joy, only what little he gained from seeing Josh enjoy himself, while, all of these decades later, still dealing with the discomfort that dancing brought him. Such bad memories had imprinted on him so deeply.

“We’ll see,” he replied, which was more than he typically promised.

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh's smile grew wide at Sean's promise. Decades ago he had insisted that he wasn't a romantic, but he had now come to terms with the fact that he was. Dancing under the stars on the deck of their home with his partner would be fun, but it would also be romantic.

He did love grand romantic gestures.

Perhaps more so now, when he felt the weight of his own mortality weighing down upon him. He wanted to make the most of their time together.

"Do you want to go ashore today, Captain? I might want a walk today after nap time."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

By contrast, despite Sean’s deep pragmatism in many areas of life, he had never denied that he was also a romantic. The telepath found nothing shameful or peculiar about the need or desire to express deep affection or to share intimate moments with his partner. He had never found anything shameful about it, and, instead, he reveled in his ability to do so.

Likewise, even if he didn’t appreciate grand gestures in the same way that Josh did – just as the retired attorney had never noticed or appreciated small details and subtlety the way that Sean did – he could still engage in his partner’s language, and he could appreciate what the other man did for him.

That became more important with each passing day, week, month, and year. Sean hoped that he and Josh would have another decade or more together, but their advanced ages and past health decisions were what they were. Josh had longevity in his genes but a lifetime of poor eating choices, hard drinking, and cigarette smoking to counteract it, as well as the potential for dementia, although, thankfully, thankfully, he had displayed no signs so far. Sean had better health, but he was older and had less longevity.

Any time they had together became all the more precious as a result.

“I’d be happy to go ashore,” he assured his partner, and he raised his glass to the proposal. “We can walk on the beach or go into town. You pick.”

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh raised his glass in return. "We should walk on the beach at sunset," He proposed seriously, "And watch as it goes down. Maybe pick up some shells on the way."

Although he had no idea what he would do with any shells he collected, and shell collection involved bending down, which sometimes caused twinges of pain in his ribs and his back and his knees.

Maybe just the walk, then. He wouldn't mind walking hand in hand with Sean, feeling the sand between his toes and the water lapping up against their calves.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean smiled softly at the thought, and his eyes crinkled in pleasure, although the latter were hidden by his sunglasses. “That’s a wonderful idea,” he told his partner, and he thought it was. When the sun began to set, it limited the harsh light and UV exposure that they otherwise had to mitigate with sunscreen, hats, and sunglasses. That the rich oranges and deep reds would provide a background for their walk only made the prospect all the more romantic and enticing.

The telepath had never been one of the back to nature/commune with Mother Earth hippies, as he concerned himself more with social and economic justice, pacifism, and environmentalism-as-pragmatic than he did with some of the more frequently-parodied practices and beliefs among his ideological brethren. Still, he could appreciate natural beauty as much as the next man could, particularly when doing so hand-in-hand with his partner.

“So we’ll go after supper then.” They rose earlier, retired earlier, and ate earlier as a result of their advanced ages and their retirement. Sean found nothing wrong with that, even if he rejected many of the other common stereotypes about retirees. At this time of year, he fully expected that he and Josh would have finished eating supper before sunset.

[Joshua Bernstein]

"After supper," Josh agreed. "We should bring the camera, or perhaps a bottle of champagne so we can toast the sunset."

He had never been one to take endless pictures, too busy enjoying the moment to document it, but he still appreciated having the occasional photographic memento. He appreciated these more and more the older he became, as he realized with some trepidation that it was likely that at some point in the future one of them would only have photos and mementos to hold onto.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean had always tended towards taking photos, certainly more than Josh had, even if his partner had always proven camera happy when the telepath whipped out his equipment. The former attorney had always been happy to pose, either alone or together, and Sean had always been sentimental enough to want as many pictures as he could take.

Most of the photos back in their house in Vermont, and nearly all of the ones decorating the houseboat, had come from him, one way or another. As such, he smiled at the thought of bringing the camera along for their walk.

“Why not both?” He queried seriously. They could bring the camera to take pictures, and they could share the bottle of champagne – or at least a glass each – to enjoy watching the sunset together.

Although Sean had never needed to deny himself (despite his ability to delay gratification in the interest of pragmatism or consideration), their retirement had led to him growing even more indulgent than he had been in middle age. He wanted to share as many experiences, to make as many memories, with Josh as possible.

Although he didn’t say this to his partner, so as not to distress him, he fully expected to die first. He didn’t want to leave Josh behind with a bunch of wasted opportunities.

[Joshua Bernstein]

"Both, then," Josh agreed. As there were two pairs of hands between them there should be no difficulties in carrying both champagne and camera.

The gentle sounds of waves lapping up against the side of the boat was soothing in a way he never would have imagined before they had bought the houseboat. He had enjoyed sailing with Sean well enough, but he had never realized the full extent to which he found being out on the water relaxing.

Perhaps that was because he had difficulty truly relaxing for so many decades. But he had eventually sought treatment for his anxiety, and although he still had bouts of it he was in far better shape in that area at least, even if his physical health had begun to deteriorate.

"This is so nice. The beach, the boat, and you. That's all I need. Perhaps we can go into town tomorrow and find a nice souvenir for Ryan and Shiya, or for Tomer."

Although Josh had several other nieces and nephews, he was closest with Tomer due to the younger man having attended Hammel, and of course Sean had always been so close to Ryan.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“Both then,” Sean repeated, looking over at his partner with an expression of pure contentment. They could easily manage to bring the camera and the champagne, even when having to take into account the need for glasses if they were to fully enjoy the bubbly beverage. Already, their evening had begun to take form, although it was several hours away, and he looked forward to it.

He looked forward to every moment he spent with his partner.

Unlike the younger man, Sean had found that same level of comfort and relaxation on the water since he had been a young boy. That was why he liked swimming, and it was why he had been so eager to share sailing with Josh when they began dating (and, also, why he eventually managed to take all of his friends out on the sailboat after moving to Pilot Ridge). It was certainly why he had wanted to buy them a houseboat for their golden years.

He felt so close to his partner, now that Josh had begun to experience what Sean did when they were sailing, or docked, in their home at sea.

The telepath smiled then at his partner’s suggestion. “Let’s do that. I’m sure we can find a cookbook or a history book that they would love, and I know they sell all manner of jewelry and artwork.” His great-niblings would love those, he was sure. “And we can send some post cards too.”

As for Tomer, Sean remained fond of the younger man as well (and he was in his thirties now, as incredible a thought as that could be), and he was sure that they would find something that Josh’s most introverted nephew might enjoy.

[Joshua Bernstein]

"If we send postcards we need to send them to all of them," Josh warned with a smile. Which was five on his side, but only the one on Sean's. Not an especially expensive endeavor, all told. It had been a decade since Noah's oldest child was born, and Josh still found it remarkable that his nieces and nephews were adults, and that his siblings were grandparents.

"A cookbook! That's so practical!" Which was to say, not the sort of gift Josh would have chosen left to his own devices, despite knowing that other people might appreciate it. "Aren't souvenirs supposed to be clothing and knickknacks?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean returned the smile and acknowledged the gentle admonition (if one could call it that) with a single nod. “That’s easy enough, isn’t it?” They sold postcards in packs of ten or twelve. If they bought a dozen cards, then that would allow them to send to each of their nieces and nephews twice, once tomorrow or the day after that, and then again before they left port; those second cards would contain information about their next destination, so that their relatives would know whereabouts they were at any given time.

Although the telepath had no desire to return to the mainland to take up roots for a while yet, he wanted family to know where they were. He didn’t want their respective families to worry about them.

Sipping his drink again, he quirked his eyebrow at the other man. Sean had always been practical, described that way both as a compliment and more derisively by those who wanted him to relax. Besides... “They love cooking, you know, and the local recipes are going to be special.” Ryan and Shiya cooked together every night when they returned home from their respective jobs. They were foodies.

“But if we have to do clothing and knickknacks, I suppose I’ll have to look for a snow globe, which I’m sure is what comes to mind whenever anyone thinks of Hawaii.”