Our Sick Obsessions | 6: Zurich

Max’s third time crossing the Quaibrücke was with Ash. At night, the surface of Lake Zürich seemed to glow orange and yellow, reflecting the city lights. It helped that this time, he was able to stop and gaze out at it, since they were on foot rather than in a moving vehicle. He leaned against the railing as he took in the magnificent sight. Ash stood to his right, hands in his pockets. Though he stood firm, not unlike a robot, Max paid him little mind until he finally spoke.
          “So, you like the lake, huh?” he asked.
          Max nodded. “Yeah. For some reason, large bodies of water like this have always captivated me. They’re so . . . serene.” He thought about something, then lowered his head and let out a small chuckle.
          “What is it?”
          “Nah, it’s nothing. Just remembered something from my childhood, that’s all.”
          Ash finally leaned beside him. “I’d like to know.”
          “It’s stupid.”
          “I won’t think so.”
          Max took a breath. With a somewhat-embarrassed smirk, he said, “When I was little, if I ever felt sick, I’d always fill, like . . . a pail or something with water. Then I’d sit down somewhere and kind of . . .” He shook his hands a little. “Slosh it. Like I was in a boat, watching the waves around me as I passed by.”
          This intrigued Ash. “That didn’t make you seasick?”
          But the Aussie shook his head. “No. It did the opposite, actually. As I watched the water, I let myself drift off.” Gazing off at the lake again. “I wasn’t in Brisbane anymore. I was somewhere else, zoned out, focused only on the water. Or maybe I was the water. It was so peaceful. I could do it for hours.”
          Ash looked off at the water before them as he clasped his hands. He waited a beat before inquiring, “Why’d you stop?”
          “I think I’m afraid that if I did it again now, I might not be able to come back to reality. I might not want to come back.”
          The auditor took that in. “Does Cameron know about that?”
          “No. No one does.”
          With a pleased smile, Ash looked at Max. The Aussie smiled back. With that, he reached out and placed a hand on his back. “Come on, Max. Let’s keep going.”
          “Yeah.”
          They continued walking for a little over five minutes more. Ash led him down the main road, past a few restaurants. Then, he turned, beckoning him down a narrower side street. Max wasn’t afraid to follow; even if he didn’t already trust Ash, there were plenty of people walking this road. As they walked, they passed by more restaurants and shops. All the buildings were at least three storeys tall, sidewalks distinguished only by faint rows of lighter stone.
          “Where are we going, Ash?”
          “You’ll see. There’s a nice little place down here that I think you’ll like.”
          As they came to an intersection, Max noticed something he found interesting. Unlike in America, the street names weren’t on signs, but plastered on the sides of buildings. In this case, he found the name “Stadelhoferstrasse” on a blue rectangle. It was above a window on the building perpendicular from the street to their right. Rather than turn, though, they continued down Stadelhoferstrasse. This section of the street, he found, had a lot of shops aimed toward women. There were clothing stores, jewelry stores, perfume and makeup stores, so on.
          Where is he taking me?
          Right beside a travel agency of some sort, he saw something peculiar in a round window. It was a diamond-shaped yellow caution sign, like the ones used on roads. On it was the silhouette of a hopping kangaroo. “Aᴜsᴛʀᴀʟɪᴀɴ Sᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟs”, it read in bold underneath.
          Uh . . . What? He felt the urge to laugh, though he wasn’t sure out of what.
          Beside this building was a large gate with two stone pillars on either side of its entryway. Ash stopped between them, then extended his hands forward, to deeper inside.
          “Ta-da,” he sung. “Welcome to the Outback Lodge.”
          Max stepped closer, staring at the brown sign in front of the stairs up to the restaurant’s plaza. Sure enough, the words “Outback Lodge” were drawn across it. It took the Aussie a few seconds to figure out how to talk again.
          “Why is there an Australian restaurant in Zürich?” was his first question.
          Ash shrugged. “Beats me. I had a similar reaction when I found out about it. Damn good, though.”
          “You’ve eaten here before?”
          “I’ve always had a strange fondness for Australia.” Ash smiled at him yet again. “I thought it might make you feel more welcome in Zürich to eat something based on home.”
          Max beamed back. It’d been much too long since anyone had been thoughtful toward him. Together, they entered the restaurant. The lighting inside was orange, making even his own pale skin seem sun-kissed. There was a mock wooden signpost, with signs labeled “Hᴀʀᴅ Wᴏʀᴋ”, “Cʀᴏᴄᴏᴅɪʟᴇ Fᴀʀᴍ”, and “Hᴇᴀᴠᴇɴ”, among others. When Max looked up, the sight of a giant navy map of Australia painted across the ceiling stunned him. The maître d’ welcomed and escorted them to a table. The placemats had old-fashioned maps of the country on them. After handing them both their own menus, the headwaiter left them to skim through. Max opened the menu, then encountering the only real issue.
          “Aaand, it’s in German. Neat.”
          “Need some help?” Ash offered.
          “You know German?”
          “Business takes me here often,” he explained.
          Max looked back at the page. “Nah, I . . . I think I can manage.” He skimmed through, found a section titled “Fʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ Bᴀʀʙɪᴇ”. “All right, um . . .”
          “Yes?”
          The Aussie showed Ash his menu, pointing at the first item on the page. “I can read about three sentences of this. What does the rest say?”
          The auditor leaned in a little closer. “Something like ‘for juicy consumption, the chicken will be pickled in our own Jamaican marinade for twenty four hours before being served to you off the barbeque. Comes with grilled cherry tomatoes, Downunder Fries, and’ . . .” He trailed off, squinted at the menu. “. . . I don’t know what that word means. Something about sauce. You want it?”
          Max shrugged. “Seems a little pricey . . .”
          Ash got a chuckle out of that. “Max, with me, you’ll never have to worry about money again. My income’s a lot more stable than your writer ‘boyfriend’s’. Let’s get a double portion of this.”
          “Are you sure?”
          He reached over and stroked Max’s cheek like he was a child. The loving look on his face somehow didn’t help its innocence.  “Anything for you, Maxie.”
          Max made an awkward laugh, then gently moved Ash’s hand off of his face. The auditor didn’t seem to take this as an insult.
          One of the waitresses, a chipper young girl, approached. “Hi there! What’ll it be, guys?”
          “A double portion of Jackson’s Favorite, thanks.”
          “No starters?”
          “No.”
          “Mild or hot and spicy?”
          “Max?”
          “Mild,” the Aussie mumbled.
          “Mild,” Ash repeated to the waitress.
          “All right. Do you guys want any desserts?”
          The auditor flipped through the menu again. “Oh, wow. I didn’t even see that. Max, see anything you want?”
          Max twitched and opened the menu as well. The waitress waited patiently until he raised his head. When he actually looked up at her, his heart caught in his throat. She had black hair pulled back into a high ponytail, hazel eyes, olive skin�"
          “Stacey . . . ?”
          She tilted her head in confusion. “Sorry, what was that?” He glanced down at her chest. No nametag. Before she could think he was checking her out or something, he pulled his eyes away and stared at the placemat.
          “Sticky toffee pudding,” he muttered. “Thanks.”
          “Sticky toffee pudding? Okay. You?”
          “Lemon meringue pie will suit me just fine.”
          “Gotcha. Any drinks while you wait?”
          Ash glanced at Max, who was still gazing at the table. “Max?” His words got a meek shrug out of him. “Well, pick something,” he encouraged.
          “Anything . . .” He stopped himself, then straightened up in his chair. “You know what? Beer.”
          “I thought you didn’t drink,” Ash commented. Then, pleased, he grinned. To the waitress he said, “Two glasses of beer.”
          “Coming right up!” She tapped her pen down and took their menus before hurrying away.
          Ash leaned back in his chair, tilting it a bit as he did. “Who’s Stacey?”
          Max tensed a bit. “What?”
          “When you looked at the waitress, you called her ‘Stacey’. Who’s Stacey?”
          “Oh, uh . . . She’s my ex-girlfriend . . . Was.”
          “Was? What’s that supposed to mean?”
          “Well, she’s, um . . .” Max’s fingers played with his sleeve. “She’s . . . dead.”
          “Oh.” Ash didn’t sound sympathetic at all. In fact, he quickly changed the focus of the conversation: “So, are you bi, then?”
          “I don’t know what you mean.”
          “Are you bisexual? Do you date girls, too, or was she only a fluke?”
          Max let out another small, awkward laugh. “I wouldn’t call her a fluke . . . I don’t know what I am, to be honest. Used to think I was straight. Now, I’m not sure anymore.”
          “Did you think she was attractive?”
          The Aussie shrugged. “She was pretty.”
          “Could you get it up with her?”
          “Excuse me?”
          “Did she make you aroused?”
          Another awkward laugh. Max fidgeted in his chair. “That’s none of your bizzo, mate . . .”
          Ash held out his hands for a beat. “No, yeah. You’re right. Sorry.”
          The waitress returned with two glasses. “Your meal should be ready in about ten minutes,” she advised.
          “Thank you.” Ash raised his glass to her, and she nodded before walking away again. A few seconds later, though, he resumed the topic, backtracking a bit. “Do you find Cameron attractive?”
          “I mean, yeah. I guess.” Yes. Very much so. Even if he is an arrogant prick . . .
          Ash hummed, took a sip of his beer. “Me?” With confidence, his sea foam eyes met Max’s.
          “Um . . .”
          The auditor shook his head. “Nah, I can tell you do.”
          Definitely got tickets on himself, yeah.
          “No need to be shy about it. I find you attractive, too, Maxie.”
          “Heh, uh, thanks.” The Aussie picked up his glass, then shook his head. Though he had to admit he was starting to feel a little out of it, he assumed it was due to the punch from Cameron.
          Cameron . . . I wonder if he’s worried. Is he wondering where I am yet? Will he wonder? He glanced around, half expecting to find Cameron peering at him from another table. No such luck. I doubt it. If anything, he’s probably relieved that I’m gone . . .
          “Have you ever been to university, Max?”
          He raised his head. “No.”
          “How old are you?”
          “I turned 21 last October.”
          “Hm.”
          “You?”
          “24 last September.”
          So he’s two years younger than Cameron. Not that that surprises me. “Where were you born?”
          “Cambridge, Massachusetts. Went to Harvard the instant I was out of high school.”
          “So you studied law, then?”
          “I forgot to mention my juris doctor degree when I first introduced myself to you, didn’t I? It keeps slipping my mind.” The auditor snickered to himself. When he noticed Max rubbing his temple, his face sobered into one more serious. “Maxie, are you all right?”
          “Ah, yeah, sorry. I’ve just . . . I’ve got a splitting headache all of a sudden.”
          “Oh. I’ve got some aspirin if you want.”
          The Aussie raised a brow as Ash pulled out a red and white aspirin bottle and opened it. “Why do you carry that around with you?”
          “You never know when you might need it.” He handed Max a white pill.
          “This doesn’t look like aspirin.”
          “It’s a Swiss brand,” he replied.
          Max hesitated.
          Come on, it’s not like he’d mix up random mystery drugs in a bottle for aspirin. He means well.
          With that, he popped the pill into his mouth and washed it down with a swig of beer. He had to force himself to swallow, since the alcohol’s taste was awful to him. When he looked back at Ash, he noticed the big grin on his face and allowed himself to replicate it.
          For the first half of their meal, they made menial small talk. Favorite colors, favorite movies, favorite seasons, worst fears, et cetera, et cetera. When they finished the main course, the waitress returned with their desserts, then left again.
          Ash took a piece of the lemon pie slice on his fork, merengue and all. After putting it in his mouth, he noticed the way Max shook his head, as if trying to stay awake. “Maxie?”
          “Hmm?” The Aussie looked up at him.
          “You seem sort of out of it.”
          “I’m a bit tired,” he admitted.
          The auditor shrugged and continued eating his pie. Max, meanwhile, poked at his sticky toffee pudding with his own fork.
          Why am I so dizzy? The restaurant seems like it’s spinning . . .
          “I feel funny,” he mumbled, then let out a low snicker. Ash didn’t respond. He was tempted to repeat himself until, with the intent of doing so, he looked up at the auditor’s handsome face. It was hard to see, his vision fuzzy, but in straining his eyes, he was able to make out his expression.
          Ash’s sea foam eyes were blank, void of emotion. If anything, there was something sinister about them. His mouth was curled into a small grin, but combined with the look in his eyes, it filled Max with fear rather than glee. His heart started to race. He watched, petrified, as Ash took another sip of his beer. With his other hand, the auditor discreetly revealed the pill bottle again. The Aussie felt dread wash over him.
          Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. What was in that pill? What did he give me? What do I do? I can still move. Should I run? How long until I collapse? Should I tell someone? What if I’m being paranoid? But he’s smirking at me! What do I do?
          Intent on fleeing, Max shifted in his seat. Ash noticed and lowered his glass.
          “Max,” he hushed, “it’s easier if you don’t run away. You can trust me. I’ll take good care of you.”
          Run. This is dangerous. He’s going to play it off like I drank too much or something. No one will stop him. He’s going to kill me if I stay. Run!
          Max lunged out of his seat and bolted for the exit.
          “Max?” Ash called after him, as if confused by this.
          By the time he was rushing down the plaza steps, it had become clear to Max that running wasn’t an option. His legs wobbled with each step and felt like jelly; soon enough, he’d collapse. What to do, then, if escape wasn’t an option? He only had one chance.
          From his coat pocket, he pulled out his cellphone. With it, he placed a call to his only contact. It rung one, twice, thrice.
          Cameron, please answer, for f**k’s sake!
          He dropped the call, tried again. Finally, Cameron answered.
          “Max,” he grumbled.
          “Cameron,” Max cried as he walked toward the gates.
          “What’s wrong? You sound drunk.”
          “I need help. I’ve been drugged.”
          “Drugged?” Cameron sounded skeptical.
          “Yes!”
          A rugged sigh. “Max, you’ve never drank before. If you drank alcohol, then�"”
          “F****n’ hell, Cameron! He gave me a pill! I had a headache, and he told me it was aspirin, so I took it, but it wasn’t aspirin! It was something else, I don’t know what, and I’m such an idiot and I need help!”
          Finally, some concern, if not anger. “Wait, wait�"you took a pill from him?”
          “I need help,” the Aussie repeated, slurred and half-hysterical. He was stumbling now, down the street he’d come from. It was getting hard to control his movements, let alone stay standing.
          “F**k’s sake, Max. I leave you alone for one f*****g hour . . . Where are you?”
          “Outback Lounge,” he said. “No, Outback Lodge.”
          “Okay, Outback Lodge. Where’s that?”
          Max stopped walking. “What? What do you mean, ‘where’s that’?”
          “I don’t know every little nook and cranny of Zürich, Max. Where the f**k’s Outback Lodge?”
          Stressed and panicking, the Aussie grabbed at his hair. “I don’t f*****g know, Cameron! I don’t know where I am!”
          “Give me a street name!”
          “Ah, uh . . . Sss . . . Ssschai . . .” He searched his head for the name to no avail.
          Wait, the street names are on buildings! Blue! Look for blue!
          “Wait! I-I can find out!” But the further he walked, the harder it became to continue. There were footsteps behind him�"he knew they belonged to Ash.
          “Max?” Cameron tried to get his attention again. “Max, give me something. Anything! Stores nearby, what the street looks like. Quick!”
          “Narrow,” Max panted. “There’s no sidewalks.”
          “Congratulations, you’ve managed to describe every street in the city.”
          “Clothing stores! Perfume. Jewelry . . . Tra-travel agency . . . Tummnn . . .”
          “Max? Max, keep talking to me! Max!”
          The Aussie kept stumbling along, though he’d forgotten what for. He couldn’t think anymore. It was obvious, even to him, that he was about to faint. Only half present, he caught glimpse of a poster and slurred, “Cameron, what’s the Stadelhofer Passage . . . ?” Before he could get an answer, the phone slipped from his hand. A few seconds later, he collapsed to the ground. As he lay there, face buried in the snow on the road, he gazed off to his right. In front of him was a large set of black gates, locked. He took in, then immediately forgot, every little curve of the decorative patterns between the bars.
          “Max?” he heard, faintly, from his phone. “Max, I’m on my way! Hang in there!”
          The footsteps from behind him stopped at his feet. Someone reached down and picked up his phone, then dropped the call. Max felt his eyes wanting to roll back into his head, but tried to fight it.
          He heard a few disappointed “tut” sounds from the person who’d caught up with him�"Ash, of course. “See, Max?” he asked. “You wouldn’t be lying in the cold like this if you hadn’t run.”
          Unable to say anything in response, Max felt his consciousness melt away.