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A Stepbrother's Desire - Josh and Tyson 81
The waiting was excruciating. While we endeavored to go about our daily lives, managing stores and legal cases, we were barely able to eat food. Sleep was tiring. Josh and I spent more time tossing and turning than sleeping. Thursday night dinner at the facility was quiet. With almost twenty boys dining in the new combined effort, you would think there would be some chatter. Josh had a couple of boys, including the little one, Elijah, who had just begun to put on weight, sitting around him. I had several boys and Marcue sitting with me. Dr. Riley headed up the table and looked very miserable.
On Friday, we were asked to come by the hospital to meet with Dr. Kareem and Dr. Kimball at the request of the Lane's.
"Nothing good is coming from this," Josh said as we entered the hospital. We meandered the long halls and took the elevator to the 6th floor where Tristan lay deep asleep in his coma. Dr. Kareem's assistant led us to a conference room where Dr. and Mrs. Lane were already seated. We all greeted each other respectfully and Josh and I took seats.
"Well, I wish I could tell you more," said Dr. Kareem. "We warned you that waiting this out would take all the patience..." and he was interrupted by Dr. Lane.
"We understand that you can't make him wake up. I understand all that," said Dr. Lane. "My concern, or our concern, rather," he said motioning toward Tristan's mother, "is how long this is allowed to go on. How long do we rely on machines to keep him alive? Shouldn't he or his body, so to speak, have the chance to determine what it wants?" I was confused by this.
"Ah, I see," said Dr. Kimball. "You think we are prolonging Tristan's life support on the basis that the hospital profits."
"Not necessary because of the hospital's profit, but what's fair?" Dr. Lane snapped. "We all know the longer he remains in a coma, there is increased danger of long term effects, if we wakes up at all."
"This is true," said Dr. Kareem, "but Dr. Kimball and I have discussed and we have discussed with neuro-specialists and we do not believe we are at the point of that risk. The fact is, Tristan's surgical wounds are healing nicely, as we have informed you previously. He is free of infection, his vitals are stable, his oxygen levels are quite good. We think this could resolve very soon."
"Let me get this straight," said Josh in a quiet, controlled voice. "You are advocating that we turn off life support and let Tristan come to naturally or, well," and Josh was quiet for a moment, then concluded, "or let Tristan expire naturally and quietly?" and I could hear the tension in his voice growing. I bristled at the sound of this. Nobody had said anything about "pulling the plug on Tristan" and I wasn't sure I could stomach this conversation any longer, despite how short the conversation had been.
"No, not yet, but when? Where do we draw the line?," asked Dr. Lane. "In my own medical training, I would say that there is as much risk in disabling the life support a day too soon as much as a day too late. Where do we draw the line?"
"I fully understand your question," said Dr. Kareem. "And that is why we are engaging with the Neurology department because this is a completely neurological event at this phase. Tristan's body has no cancer or chemical in him at this point that would result in a comatose state."
"So, let me contribute to the standard I have to live by," said Josh. "As Tristan's attorney and holding power of attorney, I have his medical directive which clearly indicates how long Tristan will live in this state. It's not a group discussion, except to say, I will give you fair warning," said Josh.
"What!" barked Dr. Kareem. He opened a folder and began flipping through the documents. "Why don't I have a copy of that directive?" he asked firmly. Dr. Kimball glared at Josh. "Do you have that document in your possession, Josh? I need that right now!" and Dr Kareem was speaking in a high pitched voice. "I don't know how my assistant let this get by her!"
"I don't have it with me and I didn't intend on giving it to you until it was time," Josh said.
"I can't believe you have held that out on us, Josh!" yelled Dr. Lane. Mrs.Lane shook her head.
"Why haven't you disclosed the document?" asked Dr. Kimball in a steady voice.
"I didn't trust the hospital to hold in confidentiality nor did I trust the hospital to allow me to make decisions on Tristan's behalf without executing the document as indicated!" Josh barked back.
"What do you mean by that?" snapped Dr. Lane.
"I mean, that just because the document specifies a certain time period doesn't mean I can't exercise another day or two, based on guidance at the time!" and Josh was really yelling now. `And from the sound of it, you all would require we execute the directive at the day, time and hour! The document is a guide as what's too soon but I have authority..."
"You seem to have a LOT of authority for a young man of your age," said Dr. Lane in a viper-like tone. "Are you sure you are prepared to make such decisions? Your age does not give me confidence..."
"Shut up, Ed," said Mrs. Lane. My stomach was about to turn inside out at this point. "Tristan trusts Josh and I see no reason why he shouldn't." She turned to Josh and said, "Josh, I am Tristan's mother and my view, which I think is as important as everyone else's, is that my son should have every chance. He deserves the right to bring himself out of this and I want him to have that chance. Do you understand what I'm saying?" and her eyes began to water a bit. "I absolutely do, Mrs. Lane and I promise you he will get that chance. I do not feel in my heart or in my brain that his day is up," and she smiled and cried a bit.
"Let's bring this back into focus," said Dr. Kareem. "Josh, we handle those documents everyday and you are in no position to judge us on the handling of them. We need that document as soon as possible so that our legal team can validate and place on file. And yes, the directive will remain confidential from normal medical staff and all other persons, until you, as power of attorney, release the information. Are we clear?" he asked, making notes in the file. Josh did not respond.
"Good! Then have the document sent over tomorrow morning. Ok?" Dr. Kareen said seriously.
"Fine," said Josh. Josh took my hand which was simply the greatest thing to have happened in the last hour. He looked at Dr. Lane and said, "It's not absurd to think I'm so young but I made a promise to Tristan I would handle this as he instructed. Would you suggest I do anything else?"
"Probably not," Dr. Lane said. "I know you three have a long history. I recall Ty running through our house as young boys and I know how much you all, hmm, care about each other." Mrs. Lane gave Josh and me a hug and we walked out.
"Let's stop in," said Josh, leading me down the long hall to Tristan's room. Josh and I were both surprised as hell to see Bryce Chatley sitting by Tristan's bed, rubbing his arm with the palm of his hand.
"Bryce!" I snapped. "What are you doing here?" He looked up at us with blood shot eyes. He looked genuinely sad.
"I just had to see for myself," he whimpered. Josh walked over and put his hand on Bryce's shoulder.
"You're a sight for sore eyes," said Josh. "We're glad you're here." Bryce stood and hugged us both.
"It was just a few months ago we were partying at his big gala and now this? How did we get here?" Bryce asked.
"He's cancer free," I offered.
"What good is that if he's a vegetable?" asked Bryce.
"He's not a vegetable," said Josh. "It's a coma and it can resolve. We have to be patient."
"Where are you staying?" I asked. "You're not planning on going back home are you?"
"Well I would if I..."
"Absolutely not," said Josh. "You come back with us." We each gave Tristan a parting pat, a glance, a thought, a prayer and we left.
We entered the condo quietly and Josh went to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of bourbon.
"I was hoping there might be drinks," Bryce said with a laugh. "I need three!"
"Well I hope you don't think it's a party night!" I said.
"What? No. But to tell you the truth, I was really sad to see him like that tonight but I respect his decision. It's on him," Bryce responded.
"What does that mean?" I asked as Josh poured drinks in low ball glasses.
"Well, he's sort of made an exit strategy," and I was about to really blow my shit but he continued, "he either wakes up and resumes a normal life or he slips away quietly, without mess, stink, and what all else goes with his condition. That's the way I see it, anyway," said Bryce, taking a big swig of the bourbon.
"You're not wrong," said Josh.
"I hope you don't think this doesn't affect me," said Bryce. "I loved him once. Could've loved him long time!"
"No you couldn't," said Josh, not in a provoking tone, but a "matter of fact" one. "I mean, you weren't going to come out of the closet and live a public life with him. That's why he never set sights on you, is my thinking," said Josh. Bryce looked perturbed.
"Besides," I said, "I thought you only ever loved Josh!" and while I was trying to be lightly funny, I was also serious and Josh cracked up.
"Well," Bryce said with some sarcasm, "I might have loved him too, for a minute. But the truth is, before Josh and before Tristan, there was you!" he said pointing a finger at me.
"Me?" I asked.
"Ty?" asked Josh.
"Yeah you! There was a time, Ty-SON, I thought you were the "cat's meow," especially when you showed up at school with those light colored jeans. Daammnnn!" he hissed.
"I know the ones you are referring too," and I had to laugh. Those jeans fit my ass so good, I knew I captured imaginations when I wore them. "I can't believe you remember that? That was so long ago!"
"I'm not forgetting the first time I jerked off thinking about a guy," Bryce said in a low voice.
"Do I know these jeans?" asked Josh.
"Did you need to?" asked Bryce. We were all laughing quite hard. "I'm pretty sure I had it bad for you for a time," Bryce said seriously.
"Oh my God! There is always some historical reference when you all get together! Why didn't you sort out this shit years ago?" Josh barked.
"Because, Josh, there was a time before you when we were all quite normal!" Bryce responded.
"Huh?"
"Before you, we were all normal teenagers, horny all the time and scared most of the time. I couldn't have gotten away with marching up to Ty Breck and saying, "hey babe, let's you and me do it Friday night! No way, terror affected us normal teenagers. Then came you, and it was like, I'm here to fuck all y'all!"
"It really was like that!" I chimed, giggling and finishing my drink.
"I don't get it," said Josh, pouring second rounds.
"You came to school and you got Ty and you get Tristan, and you got Ricky, and..."
"And he got you, didn't he?" I said. Bryce stammered.
"Fuck he did. I totally did not see that coming!"
"We saw you "cumming" I said. "Cumming all over us!" Bryce squinted his eyes.
"You don't need to remind me about all that. Those were hot times for sure!" he quipped.
"I didn't really feel like that," said Josh. "I loved you guys. I just didn't know how to keep my dick out of it." and we laughed really hard now.
"Who didn't you get?" Josh asked, keeping the funny thing going.
"Ford Fisher!" I snapped in all seriousness. Bryce and Josh froze then laughed some more.
"Damn! I thought you would have tapped that ass! You didn't?" Bryce said.
"First of all, he was not just an ass to tap. Second..."
"I wasn't going to let it happen!" I said. "That was by my design," I said, in a scandalous voice.
"Really?" both Josh and Bryce said.
"Absolutely not. We made allowances with people we trusted but those two," I said pointing to Josh, " throwing footballs and laying around in the grass imaging plays and comparing great football games, all that jock bonding? Yeah, no, I wasn't going to let them get that far."
"I didn't know that," said Josh.
"Man, I never understood there was a rhyme or reason to your extracurricular activities!" said Bryce.
"We weren't sluts," said Josh. "We did play around and had a great time but nobody was going to get away with Ty. Not without feeling some degree of pain and now I find out that Ty was quietly shielding me. I'm flattered babe," he said to me.
"You came and got me, Josh. I will never forget..."
"What's that?" Bryce asked and I didn't want to get into all that with him. Neither did Josh so he turned the tables.
"Tell us more about your love for Ty, Bryce. What brought that on?" Josh asked.
"I was, what, 15 and he was 14. I knew I had a crush on him and he was my first boy crush. I didn't know what to do or if I could do anything at all. Scared the shit out of me, thinking of the football team finding out I was into boys. No way could I let that happen. Ty was so confident and self-directed, you know how he is," Bryce said looking to Josh as if I were not in the room. "I was so horny and jacking off thinking about him that I finally lost my mind and asked him to spend the night at my house. I mean, we were a little old for stay overs but I thought if I could get him alone..."
"Aw Bryce, that is so sweet. I can't believe it!" and I couldn't. He was so far off my radar I saw no signs that the big football player had hots for me.
"I did keep the jocks off of you and that was about the best I could do outwardly but, yeah, I invited you over. My mom flipped at the thought I was asking Ty Breck to stay over. She was thrilled. So she made pizzas and I planned my move." I had to laugh.
"Were you going to roll over on me in the night to see if I would take the bait?" and he and Josh cracked up.
"Something like that!" Bryce said.
"I would have loved to have watched that!" Josh said and I think the drinks were giving us a happy buzz.
"But soon after we ate, you left. I thought everything was going perfect and you left, Ty. Called your dad and had him come pick you up. I was devastated. I literally got myself off like three times that night but I was so, ah, hurt," and he said it so quietly.
"Bryce, I'm sorry. I remember that night so well. I was so excited you asked me over. Tristan was pissed as hell!" and he and Josh laughed some more.
"I bet he was," said Josh.
"But I couldn't help it. Those pizzas were good but, Bryce, they made me so sick. About thirty minutes after eating, my tummy went "gurgle, gurgle" and I knew I had to get out of there. I was not going to spend the night at your house running to your bathroom with explosive diarrhea!" and Josh screamed with laughter but Bryce remained so quiet. I was beginning to feel something for Bryce, the way he was opening up, declaring love for us, like he was tugging at the idea of coming out.
"You were sick? What the fuck! You had a fucking tummy ache and that's what cost me my `grand plan?' Why didn't you tell me?" demanded Bryce.
"Same reason as you. I wasn't going up to one of the most popular guys and confessing that I had runny diarrhea due to one of his mom's pizzas. I had to let it go. And time just slipped away. I'm sorry Bryce. I can just about tell you that if you had put a move on me that night, you would not have regretted it. I could've gotten into you!"
"Until he refused to come out, that is, and damn, it's like As the World Turns in here. Do we need some background music?" Josh asked. But Bryce and I remained fixed on each other. I walked up to him and put my arms around him.
"Oh Bryce, that was such a hard time for me. My mom, and all, I was a nutcase, but I can honestly say that knowing you felt like that just blows my mind," and he squeezed his arms tight around me. Josh came up from the back.
"Bryce is that guy, isn't he?" Josh whispered into my ear. He put his arms around me and I was so warm and comforted to be sandwiched between two perfect men. But Bryce was playful and he turned me so that my ass pressed against his crotch. And it was a full, hard crotch I might add. Josh kissed me and the bourbon on his breath tasted good, so masculine.
"See babe, it's not always about me or about Tristan. You have been dearly loved even if you didn't know it," and my chest swelled and my nostrils got hot. My eyes began to water and I started to cry. Bryce pressed his head into my back and we stayed that way for a few minutes.
I began to feel nauseous and my legs trembled. "Josh," I whispered, "I need to lay down. I think I'm going to crumble," and he grabbed me under my arms to hold me up.
"No you're not," said Bryce.
"No I'm not going to let you," Josh said and he and Bryce carried me back to our room and tucked me into the bed. Bryce kissed my forehead and went quietly to the guest room. Josh undressed and crawled into the bed beside me. I wasn't sure how much more I could take of being without Tristan. Bryce was a block of gold but nobody replaced Tristan. I was so flattered and a bit resentful of Bryce's admission. I don't think Bryce would have kept me from Josh because the parents were getting married no matter what. But he would have been a fine lover for a young blonde boy who was attracted to amazing jocks!
Bryce headed back to the hospital the next morning for another visitation with Tristan, or at least to sit with him. I presumed he would head home afterwards. I sat on the balcony for a bit chasing down news and Youtube videos, letting cold air fill my head, fill my veins, and keep me alive.
Josh came out and sat by me. He put his arm around me.
"Let me comfort you just a bit, babe," he said. I sat my iPad down.
"No Josh, you have the weight of human life on your shoulders. Let me comfort you," and I kissed his cheek, and held his hands.
"You know Ty, I didn't take him seriously, all those years ago, when we were in high school."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"He was cute, so stunning. Hilarious sarcasm. But it was always going to be you, Ty. I hope you knew that. Never questioned it."
"I didn't question it. I allowed it. Having you two so close never put me in a tug of war between you two. But he and I, well you know, we had a fling too."
"I know," Josh said. "The fact is, you and I have done well in our twenty-eight years. You have thrift stores, I'm a good lawyer."
"I agree," I said.
"But we grew incrementally. We graduated high school, did well in college, well, I did anyway. You were a lazy ass!" he barked, causing a brief laugh between us. "Tristan on the other hand was a good high school student but was quick to drop to his knees for a jock cock. He did really well in college, became highly selective to say the least, inherited a bunch of money and now has a foundation, a trust, and a Board! He has saved a bunch of young boys' lives and is adored by so many including the mayor of one of the most important cities in America." He paused. "He basically went from high school cocksucker to being THE big dick!" Josh barked out.
"Well that's a crude way of putting it, Josh! You sound so hostile, and while I don't disagree, I don't know what you're saying." He looked at me with a blank face.
"It's not what I'm saying, Ty, it's what I'm asking." He stood and I looked up at him with the morning sun shining around his head like a halo. "Which Tristan do I think of when I have to pull shut off his fucking life-support!" and he stormed into the house. I was frozen, and not from the cold air. I couldn't move until I felt my insides twist. I felt a burning sensation and a wave of nausea swept over me. My body jerked and vomit spewed from my mouth, splashing across the balcony floor. And then a second wave hit and the bile and liquid splashed down around my feet.
"He's not ready,": I told myself. As big and strong and mature, after all those years of college and law school, and having practiced law for five years, the responsibility to "call it" for Tristan was getting too much for Josh to bear and now I knew it. He was waiting it out for Tristan to save himself so that Josh did not have to do it for him. "Oh my God!" I belted out as the heaving began to subside. The balcony floor was a mess of coffee, bile, and whatever else was in there. I had to get to Tristan. I had to either get him to wake up or find him in his coma. I felt weak and sickly from the vomiting and I didn't have it in me to clean it up just then. I went in and the condo was quiet. Josh was not there. He had left. He probably went for a walk and to do some thinking. I went and laid down in the bed. I felt sleep coming over me. I convinced myself I had to get to Tristan. If I could just...and I pressed for sleep and I pressed harder. And I believe I was asleep but I dreamed I wanted more sleep and at some point, I found what I was looking for. The fog, that fog I had once experienced where I got to check out. I remember feeling the pain and anger fade from my body. The stress was being replaced by the fog that carried magic and wonder. I was going to find Tristan.
And as I tell what happened, it's only a blurred memory that I have been able to piece through a lot of introspection. I found Tristan. The problem was, it was not as I had hoped. I found myself standing by his bedside, looking at his corpse. Josh was standing by me, his eyes red and his face wet.
"Josh, how did this happen?" I asked quietly. He shook his head, unable to speak. Nurses wheeled hospital equipment from the room. Tristan, the brilliant and stunning once boy now young man, lay there still. I couldn't understand what had happened. Did Josh terminate his life support? Had he been ready afterall? Why couldn't I ask these things out loud?
The next few days were furious. We met with his parents at the cathedral down the street from Tristan's condo. I had never been in the church but it was big and regal. At first, the church had been reluctant to hold the service because Tristan was not a congregant but I think I remembered Mayor Bartley having something to do with the church changing its mind. Then, there was a priest who made some reference to God needing his angels back in heaven.
"I don't want to hear it!" Josh snapped. "If God needs angels, he needs them on the ground where they can do the most good! Screw the "God's little angels" crap!" he yelled.
"Well, I see," said the priest in a stoic voice. "The notion often softens people's anxiety. I see that is not the case here. And on some level, I agree with you. This young man obviously did a lot of good."
Then I had to figure out what to wear. I had nothing suitable in my closet. As a high school kid, I had a sharp wardrobe, a sport coat for every occasion. Now, all I had were jeans and khakis and button down shirts!
"What the fuck am I going to wear?" I belted out loudly, to no one in particular, and threw myself onto the bed. Josh came into the room.
"Look in the closet, Ty. There's a Brooks Brother suit bag." I opened the closet doors and found the suit bag Josh was referring to. I opened it and pulled out a fresh navy blue suit and white dress shirt. I slipped the jacket on and it fit like a glove.
"Where did you get this?" I asked.
"A few weeks ago, Ty. Mom had me get it for you, so you would be prepared."
"Mom? Mom told you to get me a suit? She knew?"
"Yeah," was all he said.
Josh and I marched into the cathedral. The organ was playing and somehow, I think the organist must have known Tristan because what he was playing was perfect. It was slow and elegant, not loud and bombastic. The church was full of people. I thought I could see familiar faces but I couldn't process. I knew people were watching us as we slipped into the pew behind his parents. A portrait of Tristan stood on an easel just right of the center podium.
The priest opened with some remarks and read a scripture. I only remember "The Lord's my shepherd and I shall not want..." Then Dr. Lane walked up to the podium. He looked so much older than I remembered when we were kids. He was a thriving dentist who traveled a lot with Mrs. Lane. He coughed.
"I asked myself today and I wish I had asked myself sooner, what is good parenting? What is too much and what is too little? Tristan seemed to need so little from us and we gave him just that. He stayed out of our way and we stayed out of his. He seemed to know manners before we taught them to him. He seemed to do homework before we told him he needed to. He had put on his first pair of shoes for school and laced them before his mother had taken them out of the box. We had a special boy and for as much as I hope he always knew that, I can only hope I'm not too late in saying it." He went on a bit longer and Josh looked at me and said, "That was a good speech."
Then Perry walked up with his violin. He played something. It was gorgeous. I didn't recognize the tune. It was dark and mysterious then elevated to something very lively and glorious, only to end in that dark tone again. He dropped the violin to his underarm and gave Tristan's portrait a nod. Josh gave me a nudge.
"What?" I asked.
"You're next," he said. "Go on."
"What?" I said a little too loudly.
"I don't remember agreeing to go up there!"
"Yes you do. You prepared," Josh said. A tap on my shoulder came from behind. It was mom, sitting beside my dad.
"Go on, Ty, you can do it," she whispered in my ear. I got up and walked to the front. I couldn't remember what I was supposed to say. I heard a click noise and I looked at Josh. He was clicking his tongue, trying to get my attention. He winked at me and smiled. I took a deep breath and found my confidence. And I found Tristan, that blazen portrait staring at us all.
"My name is Tyson Breck and I have been friends, no, best friends, NO," I shouted. "Tristan is half my heart and always has been since we were in third grade. That puts me in the very coveted position of having known Tristan longer than anyone else in this room, except for his parents!" I shouted. I knew then what I had to say.
I stepped down, not remembering anything I had said but feeling like I had said it well. I slipped back into the pew and Josh put his hand on my thigh. Mayor Bartley walked up to the podium.
"You will find, and it's not just a mayor's ego that feels this way, but for a mayor, a busy and important leader to stand here, at a moment like this, to feel compelled to speak on such an occasion, it's because the person who has passed has to be special. I have asked myself many times, where have all the good ones gone? Everyone has motives, sure but many of the people who can do some real good, make important changes, have subjective, if not selfish, motives. But Tristan Lane, yes, Tristan, came onto the scene. He had some money. He had some heart. He "stood up" an agency and not for glory. He "stood up" a dozen or so boys who were struggling to stand on their own. He stood us all up and made us take note that there are problems in our society, making us aware that there are parents who have no parental stamina to love their child no matter the circumstance.
Unlike Dr. Lane who gave an impassioned speech about not being too late, I am too late. I had slated Tristan to "stand up" a committee on youth and family to bring important change to a world in need. And because of time, bureaucracy, and uncontrollable events, I was too late. And now I ask myself once again, where have all the good ones gone?" I looked at Josh and said, "now that was a good speech." He nodded. As Mayor Bartley stepped down, wiping her eyes with a light blue handkerchief, the priest stood.
"Hey!" yelled a voice from behind us. I looked behind and saw Mason walk out into the aisle. "When do we get our say? I think we deserve the right to speak!" yelled Mason.
"Mason!" Dr. Riley whispered, trying to get Mason back into the pew. But it was too late. All the boys from We Found YOUth stood and pressed into the aisle. It became quite a commotion.
"Boys, boys," said the priest. "Calm down. By all means, come forward if you want to contribute." The guests at the funeral were all looking around. Josh and I glanced at each other not knowing if we should do something. This was unexpected. Mason walked forward up the aisle and approached Tristan's portrait.
"What is he doing?" Josh asked.
Mason kissed his thumb and placed it on Tristan's cheek. He remained still.
"He touched his portrait! God almighty!" I snapped.
"Oh lord," said Josh. All the boys were pressing up the aisle. Each one walked up front and followed Mason's lead. Elijah, the once little, but steadily filling out, boy brushed Josh's shoulder as he passed by.
Josh stood. Everybody was standing. People were getting out of the pews and into the aisle.
"Come on!" snapped Josh. "And get him," pointing beside me at Marcue Marcel. I swear I didn't even know he was sitting beside me! I grabbed his hand and pulled him out into the aisle with us. None of us could go anywhere. If there had been a fire, it would've made for one of the City's worst tragedies.
The priest took to the podium as people poured into the front of the sanctuary.
"I commend this young man, our friend, son, and our brother..."
There was a large room and some sort of reception. People in dark suits and dresses were meandering. It seemed I recognized some faces more than others. I know Bryce and his blood shot eyes. I knew Julia and Perry. I knew Dr. Ginny Tatum, I knew Lisa Bustehude Howards, I knew mom and dad. Dr. Lane approached Josh.
"I guess we will be meeting soon. There are some things we need to discuss," he said to Josh.
"Don't worry," Josh said with a terrifying tone. "Looks like you got it in the end," and I was appalled. I knew the fight with the Lanes over the inheritance left a bad taste in Josh's mouth but I didn't like seeing Josh like this. He was angry about things and I hadn't found the ability to ask him. If he indeed had "pulled the plug" on Tristan, he might be damaged. His soul might not be intact. I would need help with this.
A soft hand grabbed mine and I looked up to see Ricky Rose. I hadn't seen him in ages but I knew he was managing a car dealership owned by his cousin, the successful National Basketball League player, Jordan Rose.
"Come with me," he said. I wanted to talk to Ricky but he was pulling me too hard. He led me to another room and when I walked in, I found Jordan standing there, in a dark, striped suit. He was big and strong, handsome, polished, and godly. My heart almost burst as his strong arms pulled me into his chest. His cologne was Givenchy, I would recognize it anywhere. A deep but familiar voice bellowed, "To the end. You were his best friend all the way, Tyson. I always knew what you were made of. You're the "stand up" guy, Ty. And I have missed you so much." Ricky put his hands on my shoulders as Jordan continued to squeeze me. I wanted to be squeezed like this forever but I lost touch with it, with my surroundings. I was back in bed and thinking I would have to get up and go to work or some meaningless shit. I didn't know where Josh was.
A familiar voice touched my senses and I looked up to see my mother sitting on the side of the bed. My body jerked. It was my real mother and she was so beautiful.
"I'm sorry, Ty," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. This must be so hard on you."
"I think I've stopped living, Mother," I said. "I don't think I will ever come out of this."
"Yes you will and you need to. Things are not what they seem. You need to wake up, Ty. You need to get moving. Josh is handling everything by himself and he needs you."
"Josh? Where is he?" I asked.
"He's out in the world, making things happen, Ty. He needs you by his side. I expected that of you when I promised him to you."
"Why didn't you promise me Tristan?" I asked selfishly. "I need him so much," I said in a whimper.
"I couldn't promise you both Tristan and Josh. Just Josh, but get up, Ty. Things are not what they seem."
"But what does that mean?" I asked.
"I have to go, Ty. We'll meet again soon. I promise."
"You mean when I throw myself off the balcony?" I asked and she vanished. I slept more, a dreamless sleep, or so I thought. Because I was again awakened.
"What?" I yelled in response to the hand on my shoulder. I looked up and saw Gigi sitting there.
"Good God!" I yelled. "Gigi, where did you come from? You have never visited me before."
"You didn't need me but now I feel like you do. My beautiful grandson, you've taken a hit and I know it was a direct hit. I know that kind of hit and I just felt like, well, you might need to see your Gigi!"
"You just happened to think that, did you?" I asked, feeling a bit cheery.
"You know things up there," and she pointed upwards, "are not what they seem, and Ty, neither are they down here."
"My mother said that too," I said.
"Oh Melinda was here?"
"Yes, I didn't get to say much but she said the same thing."
"You know that mother of your's never listened to anyone. She has a lot to answer for," Gigi said with her snobby southern laugh. "Now, Ty, I have to tell you this and time is of the essence so listen." I sat up in dire curiosity. It would have to be good coming from Gigi, my wonderful grandmother, who passed away some six years ago. "Ty, you know how Gigi loves a good story."
"Yes ma'am, I do," I said with excitement.
"And Gigi hasn't heard a good story in a long time. Good stories, even up there," she said pointing upward again, "are hard to come by," and she giggled, causing me to laugh. "Ty, nobody, and I mean nobody has a better story to tell than you. You need to tell it. You need to take all your skills, thoughts, talent, and privilege and use it for good will. Tell your story, Ty!" and she faded just a bit.
"Gigi, what are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about. I don't need to spell it out for you. You are a bright and talented young man. Use your head. Tell your story..." and she faded away. I was so upset because I didn't get to talk to her more but I think I knew why she faded away so abruptly. Another hand was tugging on my arm and screaming at me.
"What now!" I belted out while jerking up from the pillow and I found my mom, Josh's mom, sitting on my bed.
"Ty, good heavens, you scared me," she said.
"It's about time!" said my dad, who was standing at the foot of my bed.
"I was, I don't know, something..." I couldn't speak well.
"You were talking to Gigi, so we gathered," said Mom. She looked tired and she was dressed very casually.
"Why are you here?" I asked. "Has something happened?" Mom dropped her head and pinched her eyes, much the same way Josh does.
"Oh God,: I groaned. "Tristan's dead. He really is dead, isn't he? I saw it. I saw it in my dream," and before I could drop back onto the pillow my dad spoke up again.
"He's awake, Ty. The boy is awake!"
"Huh?" I asked, feeling very stupid.
"He's asking for you, Ty. You need to get up!" mom said.
"He's clamoring for you, Ty. He's about to drive everyone nuts. You need to get up and come with us."
"Holy Mother of God!" I yelled and I hurled myself from the bed and I was just a bit late in realizing that both my left arm and left leg were asleep from the way I had been laying. About the time my foot hit the floor and the pins, needles and zings raced along my left side, I fell sideways, and there I met the nightstand, with the lamp, and a lampshade that crumpled from my weight and a light bulb that dashed into my forehead, causing me to fall forward into the bathroom floor.
"Was I still dreaming?" I asked. "This couldn't be real," I thought as I felt blood ooze out of my head and onto the tile floor.
"Oh Goddamn!" shouted mom. She rushed to my side and looked at the wound, grabbing a towel to catch the blood.
"Lord, Ty, what have you done?" asked dad. I was pretty sure I wasn't dreaming at this point because the stinging pain in my head was very real.
"Where are the tweezers?" asked mom. "There's glass in there and I need to pick it out." I told her to look in the drawer at the end of the counter. She whipped a pair out and gently pulled three small pieces of glass from my head. Dad pulled a tupperware container from under the sink that had bandages and bandaids. They worked together to get my wound bandaged up. I looked like a damn mess.
I showered as gently as I could to not lose the bandage and they laid out some clothes so that I could get dressed. I made myself presentable and my parted hair swept over the bandaged area perfectly! I passed by the balcony on the way out and noticed that the mess I had made had been cleaned up. I must have really been out of it. Dad's car was parked in the front circle and we pulled away quickly to head off to the hospital.
I looked at my phone. It was 2 pm on Sunday and I had climbed into bed at around 11 am on Saturday. God, I had been asleep for twenty-four hours. "Damn!" I thought. And an uneasy feeling sank into my stomach. I was out that long and there was going to be hell to pay. I had left everyone else, especially Josh to carry the weight of things and I had not been there. "Damn!" I thought again.
"What happened?" I asked.
"You crashed into the lightbulb," said dad.
"Not that! What happened to Tristan?" I demanded.
"We told you," said mom. "He woke up!" and I knew this was a losing game. They either didn't know anything or didn't want to give something away. Whatever! I had to see Tristan for myself. I didn't ask where Josh was because I would have lost my damn mind, again, if they had given me a smart-ass answer.
We parked in the visitors lot and I couldn't get out of the car fast enough. We walked past the front desk, mom leading the way. I had a feeling her staff felt the same way, following in her wake around City Hall and from place to place. We took the elevator to the 6th floor where the Intensive Care Unit was located.
"Welcome back, Mayor Breck," said the nurse. "That must be Ty. What a relief!" she gasped. There were people in the waiting room and I knew them but I didn't stop to talk. Josh came out and met us. He gave me a big hug which was comforting.
""Glad you're back," he whispered into my ear. I gave him an "eye to eye" glance and walked into Tristan's room. He pointed to me and jerked in his bed.
"Ty, Ty," he gurgled in a hoarse, raspy voice.
"Don't worry," said mom. "The tubes through his mouth made him hoarse. It will get better."
"Out, out," whimpered Tristan. "Please, everyone out," and his parents got up and mom and dad turned and left the room. We were alone. I gasped for air. The sight of a living, breathing Tristan, caught in my throat and it felt like my heart was in my stomach. My insides seemed to be confused. I walked to his bed and he smiled at me. I touched his arm. His skin was warm. We didn't break eye contact.
"Are you ok?" I asked. "Are you in pain?" and I laughed a bit. It felt like a stupid question.
"No, I'm good," he rasped. Why do you look like Harry Potter?" and I giggled and walked to the other side of the bed where a chair sat and dropped myself into it. I reached over and touched his face. I stroked his hair.
"Where the hell have you been?" he asked.
Laughing, I said, "Ha, I knew that was coming. I went to sleep, Tristan. I went looking for you."
His eyes glared open and he looked panicked. "You had an episodes, didn't you? Didn't you!" he rasped as loud as he could.
"I did, Tristan. I was so frightened and I couldn't take it anymore. I just..couldn't...and," and I started to cry. I dropped my head on the side of his bed and waves of emotions swept over me. He used his hand to stroke my hair. I never felt anything so glorious as Tristan being able to reach out to me, to touch me back. I was just about to get myself together when I felt someone enter the room. I just did look up and found Bryce wandering in. He strode up to the side of the bed and gave Tristan a big wet kiss on his cheek. Yes, a "more than friendly" kiss on his cheek! They peered at each other.
"I'm sorry," I growled. "What was that?"
"What do you mean?" asked Bryce.
"I mean, what the hell was that? I'm in the middle of expressing my emotions and you just waltz in and start kissing on Tristan? What the hell was that?" and I was all but yelling.
Bryce laughed but didn't answer. I looked at Tristan.
"You and I need to talk," he rasped. If I didn't look dumbfounded, I'm not sure how I looked. This would require some explaining. And had Bryce been here since yesterday? I seemed to remember he was with Josh and me on Friday night. Oh my God.
Then, parents and friends and people started rotating in and out again. It seemed everyone wanted five minutes with Tristan. Dr. Riley appeared with a number of boys in tow. Mason bounced in like a basketball gone wild on the court. Marcue came and stood by me. It was a celebration, maybe one of the quietest on record but I honestly believe sometimes there are no more words to express our joy than there are to express our grief.
By 5 pm, it was easy to tell that Tristan was exhausted and Dr. Kareem closed the room and asked if we could stagger our visitation going forward. He advised that Tristan was out of danger but he would need some tests and further monitoring.
Mom and Dad headed back home. I could tell by the way Josh's mom looked at him, the way she patted his hair and stroked his cheek, that she knew he had taken on quite a lot and Bill took hold of his elbow and gave the "proudest dad" look that he could. Josh's phone beeped and he said it was his dad. Mom and dad came to me and hugged me.
"You've been through a lot, Ty, and you have been his friend every step of the way. If we had a friend like that," mom said. I appreciated that sentiment and watched as they drove away. Josh finished what appeared to be a quick call with his dad and he was sitting on the sofa. I sat beside him
"Josh, I want to hear what happened, what I missed. Can you tell it now?" I asked quietly. He didn't respond. He just peered out the big window that overlooked the street.
"Josh?" I said, stroking his arm and still no response.
"Josh, are you ignoring me?" I pleaded. He looked at me and snapped to attention.
"No, sorry, Ty. I wasn't. I was just lost in thought. I'm ok, really."
"Josh, you're mad at me and you have every reason to be. I dropped the ball. I lost my mind and retreated to the foggy place. I wasn't here to help you or support you. You must think I'm a miserable failure," and I was about to look away from him when he grabbed my cheek.
"You need to cut self-depravating shit. It's not always about you, Ty," he said with a chuckle. "This is, in fact, all about me. I faced the most difficult thing of my life and I'm the one who's sorry because, well, I had to do it alone. There was nobody, not mom or dad, or my dad, or even you who could help me. The fact is, while I was worried about your mental state, I was relieved that I didn't have to support Tristan in his state and you in your's. I'm strong but not that strong. I'm the failure here, Ty. Not you!"
"That's bullshit, Josh! Dr. Lane wasn't wrong when he said you were very young to have so much authority but I tell you, Josh, you were like a mountain. You have been ever since Tristan was diagnosed."
"Thanks, but I have kept a lot of insecurity bundled up and now, I think it's trying to escape, now that the pressure is over."
"Josh, do you remember the year you went to college? Started hanging with Perry, got invited to the Society?"
"Yes, of course, I remember freshman year, just like it was yesterday."
"You became a man that year and you kind of left me behind. I had to work to catch up and have been trying to do so ever since."
"Ty, that's.."
"Shut up, Josh, let me finish. This thing, power of attorneys and all that, well, I'm afraid you've grown up some more and I don't know if I will ever catch up," and my face got hot as I felt tears approaching.
"Tyson Breck, let me stop you right there. Yes, this kind of stuff does tend to grow you up and it might even change you a bit but you have most certainly upheld a large portion of the responsibility. You took care of Tristan for nearly everything he needed. You were there for him at the drop of a hat! You fed him, you took him places. You looked after the boys, took them places, you fed them at dinner, AND, you managed your businesses somewhere in between!" and his voice was rising. "This has been on both of our plates but I had one very big piece of the puzzle and I didn't have to place it down. I dodged a bullet and someday soon, I will start to believe how happy I really am. Right now, I'm coming down from a fright. You get that?" he asked.
"He's ok." I whispered.
"Yes, he's magnificent and Ty, I know there was a deliberate attempt to keep some facts from you and I suggested that we do it that way. But here's the gist of it. "Bryce and Tristan are together now. I don't know how it's going to work out but it starts now. Bryce has gone home to tell his family that he and Tristan are going to be a couple and figure things out from there. It's a new life, Ty. I don't want to psycho-analyze it right now, but suffice it to say, they are going to be outstanding for each other. It has my complete stamp of approval."
"Your stamp of approval?" I asked. "You think that's all it takes for me to buy in? We are going to set the very experienced and worldly Tristan up with the "still in the closet, just recently confused, babe still sleeping in his mother's bed?" Like, you think that works?"
"Ty, I know you feel a bit possessive but it's ok. They know each other and Bryce made his stand with Tristan, just minutes after he woke up and there is no turning back. I'll be talking to Bryce tomorrow and along the way but keep your mouth shut and let them play it out. Talk to Tristan tomorrow. He can tell you in his own words." Josh stood, took my hand, and led me to the bedroom. We undressed and climbed into the bed. I barely kissed him when his eyes closed slowly and he fell into a deep sleep. I knew by the long, slow breaths. I didn't have a chance to tell him that having slept for damn near twenty-fours, I wasn't tired. In fact, a good fuck would have done me some good! But I wasn't tired and curiosity was eating me alive. I slipped out of bed and dressed back into my clothes and headed out of the condo and down to the garage. I started up the Mercedes and headed out into the dark street, on a serious mission. It was time to sneak into the hospital and hear all of this from Tristan. Directly!