Triskelion

— Ben Richman

Most of the profiles were of crew cut circuit gays with large biceps and boring faces. There were some balding old men advertising home-rigged “COVID-safe” glory holes, young twinks fresh from the suburbs, and milquetoast guys just looking for friends. Within this bleak array, one profile caught Brett’s eye. The picture was just a muscled chest, with V-line abs, and a hand waving emoji. Brett was intrigued by the anonymity. His own profile was anonymous; he didn’t have a picture, and his name was simply “B.” He didn’t want to risk being seen by one of Christian’s friends. They had been dating for four years, lived together through the dregs of quarantine, and were decidedly monogamous. Brett’s foray on Grindr was purely exploratory; he just wanted to know what was out there, what he was missing.

He was caught by the tattoo running down the side of Hand Waving’s chest. It was of a snowy mountain peak, but it had this ominous darkness in it. On the right side of his chest there was some discoloration that looked like a scar. Seeing the muscled scar turned Brett on in a way he didn’t expect.

He was probably jerking off too much. That was the problem. Ever since Christian left for his painting residency, Brett spent his days making lattes for Lake View yuppies and trekking home in the heat to rot in front of the AC. He didn’t have any friends outside of Christian’s group, who he was feeling less and less excited to see, and the thick, humid air sapped his motivation to do much of anything.

Instagram would lead to porn, which led to masturbating. He liked the videos where muscle bros punished twink nerds for stealing their underwear. Maybe his obsession with porn traced back to his high school years, where he salivated over the jocks at his school, meticulously tracking their Facebook posts, and screenshotting any shirtless pictures from pool parties or beach trips. He would even steal small things from the hottest guys in his grade: pens, gum, water bottles. He wasn’t sure why he did it, but the small act of possession made him feel powerful, and he liked having secrets.

Brett sent a meek “Hello” to Hand Waving, unsure if he would get anything in response. The profile was only 1,600 feet away. The proximity made Brett’s blood pump. The guy could be over within 10 minutes if Brett wanted it.

Hand Waving: heyy what’s up?
B: Just laying in bed
Hand Waving: cute
Hand Waving: got any pics?

Brett paused, looking through his camera roll. There was nothing sexy. He took his shirt off and did some push ups on the floor, then posed in front of the mirror. He cropped his face out of the photo before hitting send.

Hand Waving: hott
B: Thanks

The response made Brett feel flush.

Hand Waving: whatcha looking for on here?
B: Idk, mainly just seeing what’s out there
Hand Waving: same man also looking for fun and possible dates if the connection is there. what r u into?
B: I guess I’m vers but mainly bottom

Brett didn’t know what else to say. With Christian, they mainly just gave each other head and called it a night. Christian was insecure about his body, and it was often a struggle to do much else. But it wasn’t always like that. They had discovered sex together, and there was a time when they couldn’t help but throw their bodies at each other, rubbing their crotches together like dogs in heat. Brett wasn’t sure what changed, but he always thought maybe eventually Christian would snap out of it. He’d get this blank look during sex, and was squeamish about experimentation. Apparently, the time it took for Brett to clean his asshole only gave Christian more time to think about disease, fecal matter, and the absurdity of sex.

B: I’m into lots, pretty open. Love passionate sex. Wbu?
Hand Waving: vers top, oral, rimming, anon, pnp, pup play, cum play, role play, cnc, sub/dom… also pretty open
B: I’m into some sub/dom stuff too

Hand Waving sent back another photo. He was in his mirror clutching his hard-on, which filled his black underwear. Brett noticed that Hand Waving’s left hand––the one gripping his crotch––was missing fingers. His left ring finger was just a stub and his pinky stopped just above his knuckle.

Hand Waving: me rn. i’m sooo hard
Hand Waving: send me a pic of that ass

Brett didn’t want to disappoint this stranger 1,600 feet away. He slipped off his underwear and lay on his belly, pointing the camera at his ass. He was usually self-conscious about how small and flat his butt was, but he noticed from this angle that if he arched his back, it looked firm and sexy. The first picture he took was completely off center––he mainly got the side of the bed and the floor. The next accidentally had his face in it, and he had this disturbing look of vacant concentration. Finally, he got his butt perfectly centered.

Hand Waving: yumm i want that hole so bad

Brett liked the idea of being wanted. It was starting to make him hard. His fingers rushed to type the next message.

B: What would you do to me if you were here?
Hand Waving: eat ur ass till ur ready for my big cock
Hand Waving: what would u want me to do?

B: Play with my ass and spank me while I suck you off

Hand Waving sent another picture; this time it was from above, showing his hard dick, which poked out at least six or seven inches. It was a pretty penis: slender, cut, and long, but not too long. Again, Brett noticed Hand Waving’s stub of a finger holding on to his dick. There was a red scar on his palm, and the knuckles of his other fingers seemed blocky and mangled.

Hand Waving: it fell off in a car accident
B: What?
Hand Waving: my finger. before u ask
B: Oh sorry to hear that
Hand Waving: it’s okay it was when i was in college. some guys r turned off by it… u know how guys can b on here

Brett looked at his own hand and wondered what it would be like to have a piece of yourself missing. He felt anxious thinking about his body failing in any way. When he was growing up, he remembered kids saying that fingers are actually as easy to bite into as a carrot, but our brains prevent us from doing it. He put his finger in his mouth and thought about biting it off .

Hand Waving: want me to come over and fuck u?

Brett thought about it for a second, biting deeper into his finger until he started to feel the pain of his teeth pushing his skin down towards his bone. He could keep biting harder, and that scared him.

B: I can’t host right now, maybe another time

Brett closed the app and jerked off while thinking about getting fucked by a faceless muscular chest and dick. A chest and dick that would be ravenous and throw him on the bed, unable to contain himself. After he came, Brett watered the plant and washed the dishes in the sink. Christian texted him that he missed him, and Brett responded saying he missed him too.

B: What’re you up to?

Brett was sitting on the couch after work with the fan blowing on him. He made pasta with chicken sausages from Trader Joe’s, and sat watching TV. Christian texted him a picture of a painting he was working on: a blue landscape of the Michigan dunes they had visited together last summer. He thought about Christian––his boyish face focused, diligently drawing. Their world was so small. Their apartment with the rickety bookshelf and the old striped couch. The same Modelos they sipped while they cooked together before they fell asleep in each other’s arms. The same rituals, the same bars, the same friends––all Christian’s. It was claustrophobic, yet the idea of breaking up filled Brett with an encroaching dread that made his head heavy and his arms limp. Christian was his first love, and maybe his dissatisfaction would just be a passing phase.

He checked Grindr again.

Hand Waving: planning a trip!!
B: Where to?
Hand Waving: mt. shasta, in california
B: Oh nice. Going hiking? Is that how you stay so fit?
Hand Waving: sort of. it’s on an important ley line nexus
B: Oh

Brett looked up ley lines on Google and found a bunch of confusing information about imaginary lines connecting ancient monuments, religious sites, and geographic marvels that supposedly had some spiritual energetic significance. Apparently, Mount Shasta was a root chakra spot: a point connecting multiple ley lines. It was spiritually important to the Native Americans in the region, and had a bunch of new age lore and UFO sightings attached to it. One of the websites mentioned a secret society of ancient people called “Lemurians” who held onto some supernatural ancient knowledge, and were believed to live in an underground city below Mount Shasta. Brett was ready to close Grindr, and maybe read the copy of Strangers On a Train that Christian got him. Before he could look away, he got a new message.

Hand Waving: still thinking about ur cute butt

Brett got a head rush, which made the rest of the world feel blurry and grey. He knew it was stupid, but he wanted to take a picture with his sexy underwear––a pair of tight briefs with white and blue stripes. He would put them on hoping Christian might get aroused, but to no avail.

Brett stripped down, tugged on the briefs, and got in front of his mirror. The long reflection made his frame look narrow. He played with different poses and started to rub himself, exploring his body. He always felt a bit too gangly, but he started to realize that certain poses and angles could hide his awkward figure. He poked out his butt and held his underwear tight, so his ass looked more firm.

He took the picture and sent it.

Hand Waving: mmm yumm
B: Thanks
Hand Waving: and u have a cute face

Brett’s cheeks reddened. He didn’t mean to include his face. He was only doing this under the guise of complete anonymity. Hand Waving sent back a full body nude showing his face, too. He had thin eyes, and a flat expression that wasn’t trying to be sexy. It was saying my body speaks for itself. He had a broad nose, blocky forehead, and soft cheeks that came down towards a sharp scar on his chin. One of his eyes was slightly larger than the other; it looked like it could be a lazy eye, but it might have just been his expression in the photo. Brett imagined Hand Waving bumping into him on the street when he was with Christian, revealing their virtual relationship. Brett thought of Christian’s face falling flat, masking some deep, bone breaking heartbreak. Christian didn’t deserve that, but it probably would never happen. Still, the thought swam around in the back of Brett’s head.

Hand Waving: we should def meet up soon. ur so cute!

Brett was getting hard, and thought, what’s the harm? They would never actually meet up. It was barely cheating: it was all virtual, they didn’t even know each other’s names, and he promised himself he would delete the app soon.

B: Well thanks!
B: You’re cute too
Hand Waving: been working out extra hard for my trip. i’ve gotta get to the western caverns, which is about 8000 ft above sea level. do u work out?

Brett thought about lying, but figured there was no point.

B: Haha no not really
Hand Waving: wow, ur just a natural twink. that’s totally my type
B: Lol thanks. I’ve always wanted to be more buff. I’m kinda self-conscious about being skinny
Hand Waving: maybe we can work out together sometime? i could use a gym buddy
Hand Waving: i’m sick of spending so much time alone
B: Same, actually
Hand Waving: well it might be fun to hit the gym together. u can spot me 😉 that’s sort of my fantasy. to dominate a submissive twink who’s also my buddy. the sub/dom partnership is beautifully primal
B: Haha yea

The conversation was definitely getting off track, but Brett let it meander. It felt good to talk to someone new, even if they were anonymous and slightly odd.

B: So what’s so special about those caverns on Mount Shasta?
Hand Waving: that’s where the sightings were
B: Sightings of what?
Hand Waving: the pillar of light. the same one i saw when i got in my car accident
B: Pillar of light?
Hand Waving: it was out in wisconsin, where i’m from. my best friend was driving and we were just joy riding out in the woods. honestly u kind of remind me of him, he had the same body type. he was skinny and cute too 🙂
Hand Waving: i knew it was dumb, but we got high and started speeding. the roads were icy and everything was pitch black. all of a sudden, we saw this light shoot across the road in front of us. it was a solid pillar that flashed for just a few seconds. my friend swerved, and we were going so fast that the car flipped. i broke some ribs, fucked up my face, and my hand got crushed
Hand Waving: i’m lucky i’m still alive.

Brett stared at his phone. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. He let the message hang there.

Hand Waving: sry. i don’t mean to totally unload. ur a sweet guy. most guys on this app r complete assholes. u probably think i’m crazy, but i know what i saw

A tinge of guilt pressed somewhere in Brett’s stomach. He felt like he owed this anonymous profile something. He didn’t want to be another asshole.

Brett: No worries! I believe you

Brett had trouble sleeping. He kept waking up and nodding back off into dreams that felt eerily real. He was in his apartment. All the lights were off except for a dim lamp in the bedroom that gave everything a soft yellow glow. Christian was laying on the bed as Hand Waving appeared from a corner, wearing tight black underwear. Christian said he invited Hand Waving, and wasn’t mad about Brett’s infidelity. Brett felt this immense wave of relief, like everything in their relationship was going to be fine. Christian even wanted to have a threesome to spice things up.

The three of them got onto the bed, their bodies intertwining in a mesh of limbs. Their clothes came off seamlessly––Hand Waving took Brett from behind and started fucking him while he sucked on Christian’s cock. It felt amazing, and Brett was surprised that there wasn’t any pain or mess. Hand Waving flipped him onto his back aggressively. Brett looked up, and noticed that Hand Waving had a huge tattoo on his chest: three spirals emanating from a central point. It looked freshly done, red and bloody––almost as if he was branded. As soon as Brett touched Hand Waving’s chest, blood gushed out of his tattoo and dripped onto Brett’s body, pooling in the sheets. Christian jumped away, his body limp and his face pale with shock. Hand Waving didn’t seem to care; he kept trying to fuck Brett. Brett tried to get up, but Hand Waving pressed him down as Brett’s own chest filled with blood.

Brett woke up with an erection. A car was honking outside, the morning light already bright and hot. Brett reached for a notebook by his bed and drew the symbol he saw in his dream.

B: Th is might be kind of random
Hand Waving: what’s up?
B: I had the weirdest dream last night
Hand Waving: what happened in the dream?
B: Well I saw a weird symbol. It was especially weird because I’ve never seen the symbol before. I didn’t think it was possible to dream about something I had never seen before
Hand Waving: what was the symbol?

Brett tried to describe the symbol, but was having trouble. Instead, he decided to just send a picture of his drawing. It felt strangely intimate to send Hand Waving a picture that wasn’t a nude; the lined journal paper with his scribbling revealed a more vulnerable piece of himself than any picture of his bare ass or dick. Hand Waving did not respond. Brett stared at his phone. Nothing. Brett pulled his message inbox down to refresh the page, watching as the grey circle above the messages spun, then stopped. Nothing. He refreshed again. His phone buzzed.

Hand Waving: i saw that symbol too

Brett’s gut clenched.

Hand Waving: i saw it during my accident. i blacked out and when i woke up in the hospital, i drew it on a napkin. i was high on morphine or some shit and i don’t remember what i saw but for some reason i knew it was important to draw that symbol
B: What is it?
Hand Waving: a triskelion
Hand Waving: my friend saw it too. i was sort of obsessed with him back then, and sometimes it felt like he could care less. But after the accident i thought things might change. we were connected in a new way

Brett could feel the sun through the window beating on the back of his neck as he sat, reading.

Hand Waving: i thought it would make us closer, both having seen this thing. honestly i got sorta fixated, and i could tell he was getting worried about me. i would even drive out to the spot of the crash and just sit there because i felt this intense energy there. then i found out that there was a ley line close by and i started reading about their association with the triskelion. nobody really knows what the triskelion means but it has to do with mystic knowledge. the trinity of energy, body and earth. it’s been seen at different ley line nodes across the globe too. i think it sort of freaked him out. he stopped talking to me, and i haven’t seen him since i moved. all this stuff has been in me for so long, and i’ve felt so alone. i didn’t know what to do until i heard about the sightings at mt. shasta. there’s a lot there that is still unexplained and i feel like going there might give me some answers, u know?
Brett: But this could all be a coincidence. Don’t you think there might be other explanations?
Hand Waving: it’s not all mystical bullshit. the people in power don’t want us to know about this stuff . but it’s too late. i saw it
B: I don’t know
Hand Waving: but u saw the symbol too?
B: Yeah I know

Brett couldn’t think of what to say. It felt useless to argue.

Hand Waving: i could sense we had a deeper connection. there must have been a reason we were instantly attracted to each other. those things don’t just happen for no reason. physical attraction is part of the same electric system of ley lines, chakras, and magnets. it can’t be a coincidence that u had that dream, too

Brett closed the app. There was no point in responding, he thought. He felt this intense guilt trickle down his chest, back into his stomach. He shouldn’t have humored this person for as long as he did, and he definitely shouldn’t have told him about the dream. He imagined Hand Waving spiraling in his own dark room somewhere blocks away, staring at his phone and waiting for a response that wasn’t coming. He imagined Christian, the way his hair stuck up in a cowlick first thing in the morning, his soft arms pulling Brett back to bed like a sailor pulling in the mast before a storm.

Hand Waving: i think i saw u?

Brett stopped in his tracks. He had just gotten home from his bike ride to the lake and was about to hop into the shower. He had an urge to check his phone, but immediately regretted it.

Hand Waving: i was walking by the brown line stop on damen and i think i saw u

Brett couldn’t respond. His fingers were frozen.

Hand Waving: i’m actually walking by there now. lol. i think i must be close to u. the app says we’re 300 feet away. maybe i should stop by? we have a lot to talk about!

Brett looked at the distance icon under the profile. He refreshed the page. Now it said 200 feet. He quickly got up and locked his door. Not that it mattered––Hand Waving wouldn’t know his apartment number, wouldn’t even know what building Brett lived in. He still felt the urge to go to the window just to see if he could spot Hand Waving, just to know for sure if he was actually headed this way. Brett craned his neck to look down the block, but didn’t see anyone that resembled Hand Waving’s blocky face. He checked his phone. 15 feet away. He went around to all the windows, closing the blinds and checking the back door to make sure it was locked.

Brett opened Grindr, went to his settings, and hovered above the “delete profile” button. He knew he was going to do it eventually, but he paused for a moment. A choking pressure rose in his throat as he thought about going back to his messages with Hand Waving.

Brett deleted his profile. It was such an obvious solution: Hand Waving would see his profile disappear, and give up on trying to track him down. As soon as the app was gone, Brett felt a wave of relief. He got in the shower and turned on the hot water, despite the heat outside.

The old shower pipes made a high-pitched squeal as the water rinsed his body. His hands were still trembling. He couldn’t shake the thought that Hand Waving wouldn’t give up. What if he kept looking for him? He knew the block, but he probably didn’t know what building. Then, Brett heard a voice. It sounded like it was saying B, but he couldn’t be sure over the sound of the pipes. He turned off the water and quickly grabbed his towel. It was silent. He stepped out of the bathroom, droplets of water pooling on the wooden floors. The apartment was empty, the doors still locked. Brett went to his room and flipped to the page of his notebook with the drawing of the triskelion. He tore it out, and threw it in the garbage.

Brett decided to make a nice dinner for Christian’s return. He was scheduled to come home later that afternoon. The air was heavy with moisture, and the sky was an angry grey––like the clouds could burst at any moment––making everything look dramatic, embedding romance in the swaying catalpas and the old brick two-flats.

Christian agreed to take an Uber from the airport, so that Brett could grocery shop right after work. He picked up some chicken thighs and herbs to make roasted chicken with sweet potatoes, and stopped around the corner to grab some wine. He had gone twenty four hours without Grindr, and was feeling free and light.

Brett came in through the back door in the kitchen with his groceries, and placed them on the counter. Christian was already standing in the foyer with his luggage, his face pale, as if he’d seen some apparition on the I-90. He was holding a yellow piece of legal paper. A patter of rain sprinkled the open window. Brett could see Christian’s hands tremble.

“This was under the door… What is this?”

Hello Stranger!

I don’t even know your name! I’m guessing you deleted Grindr. No worries about that. I’ve deleted and redownloaded many times. I would’ve waited for you to redownload, but this was too important. I had to get in touch with you. I don’t mean to be a stalker, I just happened to see you through your window and figured out you were in the apartment on the second floor on the left.

I don’t believe in coincidences. I know you messaged me for a reason, and I can tell you’re into me. I think seeing you in the window was a sign. Maybe you stood in your window on purpose so that I could send you. When we were chatting, I felt this certainty in my life that I haven’t felt since my accident. You’re one of the few people who believed me.

You saw the Triskelion because you’re open to a higher plane of understanding. There is something waiting for us on Mt. Shasta. I can feel it, and all the signs are pointing to us discovering it together. We haven’t even met yet and we’re already spiritually connected. You dreamed about me and I even had a dream about you. It was weird, you were biting off 50 Triskelion your finger. Maybe you know what that means?

My number is 6165457821. Please reach out. My name is Caleb, by the way. Sexy.

Brett stumbled into the end table next to the door, knocking the ficus plant onto the floor. The ceramic planter fractured into small pieces, spilling dirt in a spider web of curving lines. When Brett squinted his eyes at the mess on the ground, it looked like there were three swirls emanating from a central point. There was something beautiful in it. He realized he liked how things look when they’re shattered.