I lay on my bed listening to rain.
A moist wind blew in through the window beside me, dappling my chest with spots of icy water.
It had begun raining earlier that evening, about an hour after the sunset. Like they always say, there was a stillness before the storm. For a few minutes the sun had actually peaked out from behind a cloud. I remember trying to forget about Kyle. Naturally, I failed. It was a very quite dinner with my parents. So quiet that I had the suspicion they had heard something through the grapevine. My dad stormed out of the house just before dessert, and I swear I nearly shit my pants. My mom wouldn't speak to me for the rest of the meal-- I was fucked.
My sheets were sticky from the humid air in my attic apartment.
White curtains whipped around the sides of the window like linen ghosts.
I heard my mother crying in her bedroom around nine o'clock. Knocking quietly on the door I asked her what was wrong. She told me we would discuss it later. I thought about Kyle, and feared for his safety. News streaked down main street faster than lighting, a fact that made it difficult to keep anything private. I had no doubt that in the twenty-four hours since Brian unleashed his slurry of hate that the entire town had found out that Kyle was a queer. I was also positive there were rumors about me.
"He'll burn in hell for his sins!" they'd screech upon hearing the news. "May the lord bringeth judgment day soon, so we may wipe filth like him from our community." I knew the way the rest of the world felt, and their words burnt. What I was... who I was... would make me the target of more hate than any single person can stand without emotional collapse. My heart screamed to be free, but my head told me to suck it up and move on. Kyle was the one who was outed-- but I knew I would live through this experience again someday.
The headlights of a car pierced through the rain in two bright spikes.
Puddles on the roadway lit up, and in them I could see that is was pouring.
You know, life is funny. It's almost like every time you think you are flying smoothly, you are really about to slam into a wall. The whole thing seems like a twisted game of press your luck. I look back on this period of my life and wonder how the fuck I made it through without doing something terrible to myself. But then I remember days like the one I spent with Kyle at the lake; the type of day when you look up into the bright sky and know that there is a reason for all of the pain. To push on each day with all your might so you can catch a glimpse of the beauty that lies just around the bend.
Even though some screwed up stuff happened when I was growing up, I had it really good. There were so many people who's suffering I could not see, and only today hear of. The lady in the flower shop who cried every night because she couldn't have children. The man at the post office who lived and died without ever being loved. Each and every person suffers, but that is hard to see in a closed door world. So many times we take for granted the good things in life and focus only on the bad. What is it they are always saying? Live in the moment? Well, it is certainly true, because you never realize just how good something is until it's gone forever.
They found Justin's body next to the train tracks.
There were high levels of methamphetamine in his bloodstream, and nearly every bone in his body was broken.
My pops arrived home around eleven in a very odd mood. He smiled a lot. An awkward, I just saw the dead body of your friend sort of smile. We sat on the couch together... the same couch that Justin laid on that night I bandaged him up. Dave Letterman was on and I laughed. Hahahah! So funny! Then the TV flickered off.
"Eric..." wait for it...wait for it... "Justin is dead." my father said quietly to me.
It hit me like a ton of bricks falling off a very tall building. I was absolutely shattered. Everything froze. From the cat, to the ceiling fan. The entire world stopped for a second, looked me right in the eye, and then gave me a good kick in the nuts.
"No he isn't." I laughed grimly.
"He is son. I saw him." said my all knowing dad.
I wondered aloud for a moment if he was bullshitting me, or whether there was really a toe tag somewhere with Justin's name on it. My mind settled on the latter with a surprising amount of ease. I leaned over the side of the couch and vomited.
"He was as high as a kite," the police would say. "On top of the world!" they would cackle together in the night. So what? Did it really make a difference? Justin was gone. He was robbed of his life by a terrible man who pushed him to far. The scene played out in my woozy mind; the private premier of a new Hollywood blockbuster. Men wearing blue uniforms standing in the tall grass. Red beacons lighting up the pine trees like flames.
He was my friend.
I still think about him every day.
Thirty four years ago a child with a beautiful smile was born. No one ever told him while he was growing up that he was destined to be hit by a freight train. No one seemed to mention that he would be dead shortly after turning 19. So he didn't really care what he did with his life. In school he failed nearly every subject. His peers (other than us) thought he was a jerk. He didn't care though, and he went along puttering with cars alone in his garage, trying to prove that he needed no one. To be completely honest he was a miserable son of a bitch with a chip on his shoulder because he felt the world owed him something. Did it?
When I think back to that day in the garage when I watched Justin pop a crystal in his mouth, I wonder if I could have made a difference. If maybe I had intervened he wouldn't be gone right now. Maybe if I stopped him right then and there, he would know that someone really did care about his future-- even if he didn't. I think of all the things he missed out on in life, all of the moments when I could have used his strength there by my side. There are so many what ifs, as well as a plethora of maybes, that plague me to this day.
The darkness was soothing.
I didn't want to see the rest of the world that night.
The house was quiet. My parents were asleep in their warm bed. The light in the hallway seeped beneath my door reminding me I wasn't trapped. I could escape. I could break out of this prison. There was no reason to suffer alone. I found my book bag jammed in the bottom of the closet beneath an entire summer's worth of shit. I filled it with clothes and blankets. I put on my baseball hat. I stepped quietly out the front door.
It would be a long walk. An hour at least. I watched the lights of my house fade into the torrents of horizontal rain. The storm swirled around me but I paid it no heed. I was on a mission. Within twenty minutes I tripped over a pothole and wound up crawling on the pavement. Even though my hands were planted firmly I couldn't feel the ground below me. Everything was fuzzy. Cold. Wet. Numb. I stood up and continued walking like an automaton gliding along a track. The wind blew hard, my face burned. Time passed by slowly.
My feet moved on their own without any provocation. I heard the sloshing of water in the distance. The pavement was eventually replaced by a soft bed of pine needles. Dark giants stood all around me. Sap covered my hands as I clung on to them for support. Slowly. Very slowly, I made my way through the night. I sensed an empty space was up a head of me, and I knew there wasn't much further to go.
My face was wet. Hot tears mixed with cold rain.
I touched something metal with my outstretched hand, and even though its edges dissolved into the black, I knew what it was. My fingers slid over glass and plastic. I grabbed hold of a familiar shape and pulled. A bright light shone all around me.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Kyle asked.
I sat down on the front seat and closed the door. It was a wonderful car. Without a doubt the best one in the world. I removed my wet shoes and threw them in the back seat. My shirt joined them. Kyle's hand broke through the cocoon of numbness that encircled me. His skin touched mine. I could feel.
We sat beneath the blanket, warm, wet, and safe.
The woods were full of strange and scary things.
Monsters lurked in the world all around us.
It was okay though, Kyle wouldn't let them in.
I laid my head on his shoulder and listened to the rain.
This chapter was written in a much different tone than all the others on purpose. I am sorry if it came across as harsh and sarcastic, but that is the way it needed to be. I really didn't want to write about this, but Justin's death is a very important event in Eric's life and I couldn't just sugar coat it. Hopefully this won't dissuade anyone from reading further.
Regards,
Sam (samsam345@gmail.com)