I'm not sure how long it took for the tears to stop falling, but at some point, I looked in the mirror and saw my puffy eyes and my red face. I looked about as horrible as I felt. My mind was a flurry of activity and thoughts, constantly racing back to that awful image. I wondered if I should go in the house and grab the little boy, to save him from that place. No child should have to grow up in a house like that. I wondered if I should go in and grab Lionel and save him from that woman. I knew I could take her. What she was doing was wrong, not to mention sick. Then I had another thought, `This probably wasn't the first time.' I slapped myself hard in the face as I covered my mouth and nose with my hand.
"Oh my God!" I screamed against my hand. "Oh my God! Oh, my God! Oh my God! Oh goodness! Oh goodness! Oh my God!" I moved my hand and rubbed my fingers across my head before balling my hand in to a fist and tapping my forehead repeatedly. I felt as if I was going crazy. "What's going on?" I asked myself out loud. "Oh! What's going on here? Why is this happening? Oh my goodness!" I realized I was having trouble breathing, so I tried to take deep breaths. I started hyperventilating, which scared me. I closed my eyes and put my head back against my seat. I focused on my breathing, which seemed to make it worse at first, because it was like my brain was fighting my body, but after a few minutes, the pace of my breathing did slow down. I needed to get away from that place. I put my key in the ignition, started the car, and tore off down the street. I was in no condition to drive, but I had to get away. I pulled in to my driveway and sat there while I gathered myself. Unfortunately, my time was cut short because my father came out to take some trash to the backyard. He was on his way back before he saw me. He walked over to my window and I rolled it down.
"Are you okay? You look like Hell! Did that boy dump you?" He said it all in one breath.
"Just leave me alone please. I'll be inside in a minute."
"Well, don't stay out here all damn day, pouting."
I slammed my hands against the steering wheel. "Dad, will you just leave me alone? I promise I'll only be out here for a few minutes."
"Don't take that tone with me! I'm still your father! But I can tell you're hurting right now, so I'll let that go." He leaned in through the window and pointed his finger at me. "You better check your attitude at the door!" He stood up and walked away.
Just what I needed,' I thought. I pushed the button and rolled the window back up. Might as well get this over with,' I told myself as I took out the key and opened my door. I had just shut the car door, when I noticed something in the passenger seat. There was the card I had bought for Lionel. I unlocked my door and reached across the seat to grab the card. I knew I had taken it in the house with me, but I didn't remember bringing it back to the car. I felt a tear slide down my face and I impulsively started ripping up the card. When I was done, there were little pieces of the card strewn on the cold ground, resting on top of the light trace of snow. I slammed my door shut, and it created a breeze that forced some of the pieces to move.
Watching those pieces move away from me triggered something in my mind. I knelt down and feverishly started picking up the pieces of the card. I even picked up the pieces that had fallen under my car and the few that were scattered in the row of flowers next to the driveway. I had a hand full of pieces, when my eyes caught sight of two missing pieces towards the end of the driveway. I walked towards the pieces, and a gust of wind came by and snatched them away from me. I watched as the wind lifted the pieces off the ground and danced with them in the air, spinning them around. The wind died and the pieces fell in the middle of the street. I seemed to be moving in slow motion as I approached the sidewalk. It felt like an out of body experience, almost, like a dream. I took one step off the sidewalk and I was jarred back to reality by the sound of a car horn as a car went zipping by me. I jumped and my hand twitched, throwing all the pieces in the air. `Damn,' I thought.
I turned and walked towards the backyard. I opened the garage and grabbed the broom and dustpan that my father kept in there. I walked back to the street and waited for a few cars to pass then I swept the pieces in to the dustpan, gathering a mix of snow, dirt and little rocks along with the pieces. I only swept the big pile, leaving the other pieces to travel on their own. I didn't want all the pieces anymore. I just wanted to clean up the mess. I took the dustpan to the backyard and dumped its contents in to the trash can. I put the lid on the can, but I could still see the pieces swimming in the garbage. I wiped my face on my shirt and turned to go inside.
My mother was sitting in the kitchen waiting for me. "Oh, Baby, your father told me you and Lionel broke up. Come here and tell me what happened." She stood and opened her arms and I was powerless to resist. I wanted to be her little boy again. I wanted her to kiss the wound and make the hurting stop. I fell in to her arms and cried on her shoulder. I knew I was squeezing her too hard, but she didn't complain. She just put her arms around me and held me. "What happened?"
"I can't talk about it. God! I don't even want to think about it. Oh, Momma, it was bad. It was so bad." She didn't press me to tell her anything else. She just held me and let me cry.
"Oh, not again!" My father exclaimed as he walked in the kitchen. "You need to stop babying him!"
"Leave us alone!" My mother told him.
"I'm just getting a snack, and then I'll be gone. I can't watch you do this to him!" he told her.
I loosened my grip on my mother and tried to pull away, but she held me tighter. "Ssh Baby, don't let him bother you. Pretend like he's not there. He'll be gone soon."
I hugged her again but I stopped crying because I didn't want him to see me like that. I heard him pouring a drink and then I heard his footsteps as he walked away. My parents rarely argued, but they were severely separated on the issue of my sexuality. My mother had jumped on board right away, but my father was still swimming next to the boat, sometimes he kept up, but most of the time the boat was pulling away from him.
He was gone and she was holding me. "Are you going to be okay?" she asked.
"No."
"What can I do to help?"
"Nothing."
"You know I'm always here for you no matter what. Right?"
"I know."
"And you know you can talk to me about anything?"
"I know, but I can't talk to you about this right now. I don't know if I'll ever be able to talk to you about it."
"You need to talk about it."
"I can't."
"You'll feel better if you talk about it," she told me as she rubbed her hand over my head.
"I can't."
"Okay, Baby. Okay." She rubbed her hand over my head a few more times. "I miss your hair," she said. "Why'd you cut it so short? It's like stubble on your head." She laughed a little, but I knew what she was doing.
I laughed a little, too. "Just wanted to try something different. Lionel liked" I stopped mid sentence. I didn't want to talk about him, I didn't want to hear his name and I didn't want to think about him. "I'm going to go take a nap." I told her as I let go of her and walked down the hall.
"Okay," I heard her say.
When I reached my room, I kicked off my shoes and got in my bed and tried to relax. I thought back to our trip to the bus station from school. I was the idiot who convinced Lionel that we should surprise our parents by staying two extra days. It only cost ten dollars to make the adjustment, and we would still be back before the game. At the last minute, Coach had cancelled practice for the days before the game and scheduled a team meeting on game day. He said we would go over a few plays and that would be it because we all deserved to go home and fully enjoy our holiday, without rushing back for practice. I think he was the one who wanted to fully enjoy his holiday, but who was I to complain.
Dumb ideas can be well thought out. That's what I had: a dumb idea. I knew things would be different when we went home, but I never expected so much to change. How could I look at him the same, knowing what I knew? If we had just come for one day and gone right back, this never would have happened. I started to wonder if maybe I was partly to blame. I was the one who changed the schedule. I cleared the way for this to happen. Then I realized that Lionel was a grown man. He might not have been in his right state of mind when I saw him, but he should have known better than to allow himself to get that far gone. I didn't know what to think. The quiet of my room only amplified the voices in my head. How do you deal with what I had witnessed?
I must have worried myself to sleep because I awoke to the sound of my mother calling my name. "Lucas!"
"Huh?" I responded.
"Dinner's ready."
"Okay, I'm coming." I forced myself to get out of bed and I went downstairs. My mother and father were already seated at the table. This would be our last meal together before I left them again. I was dreading the idea of getting on the bus back to school. I was afraid of seeing Lionel.
I sat down at the table and for forty minutes, everything returned to normal. We talked about my classes and some of my old high school friends. My mother told me how much she was going to miss me, and complained that I didn't come home for Thanksgiving. She told me that if I didn't come home the next year, she was bringing Thanksgiving to me, wherever I was. It was a normal dinner, with no talk of Lionel, or me being gay, or anything that might bring drama.
After dinner, my father asked what time I needed to be at the station in the morning and I told him 6 am. He frowned because he hated getting up before 7:30, but he shook his head and told me to be ready to leave by 4 am.
"For what?" I asked.
"You should always be early."
"Lionel and I got to the bus station thirty minutes before our bus left."
"Well, I don't care what you and Lionel did."
He said it in a way that insinuated he was referring to more than just the time we arrived at the station. I hated the venom in his voice when he said it, but most of all, I hated the subject. I wished I could clear my mind off all the thoughts I had about Lionel. "I'll be ready at 4," I told him. I guess my submission caught him off guard, because he opened his mouth to say something, but he didn't say anything. He closed his mouth and shook his head and I took that as my dismissal. I left the room.
I got back in bed and attempted to go to sleep again, but my mind was unable to rest. I would have no peace that night. I finally got out of bed at 2 am and started packing my bag. `I should have never tried to go to his house,' I thought. Things would be so different if I had just stayed home, but I wanted to surprise him before we left. I shouldn't have done that. I couldn't help thinking that what I saw was somehow my fault. The little boy told me not to go upstairs, but I didn't listen. I should have waited, or come back later, or anything. I shouldn't have opened that damn door. What was I really expecting to see? No matter who he was with, it still would have been something I didn't want to see. Hearing it was bad enough. Why did I open the door?
I kept having the same thoughts. One second I hated him, then I hated her, then I hated me. Everything was so mixed up in my mind. A few times, I almost went to wake my mother and talk to her, but I knew I wouldn't be able to tell her in words what I had seen or how I was feeling. I had to somehow deal with it myself.
By 3:30, I was sitting on the sofa in the living room, waiting for my parents. My father came in around 3:45. He sat down in one of the chairs. "Your mother will be down in a minute," he told me. We sat there in silence for a few minutes. "You know you'll always be my son," he said out of the blue. I knew what he was really saying, `Your mother and I were talking about the way that I treat you. I just want you to know that no matter how much we argue, or disagree, I'll always love you.'
"I know, Dad. I love you, too." He glanced over at me, and our eyes met. He quickly looked away. He reached for the remote that was on the table and turned on the television. He wanted to end the conversation, so I obliged. He loved me, that's why I always forgave him when he had one of his outbursts. I knew it was killing him that I wasn't normal.
My mother came down five minutes later with her coat on and her purse in hand. "You guys ready?" she asked. Neither of us answered, we just stood up. My father turned off the television and left the room so he could get his coat, and I put on my coat and grabbed my bag which I had placed on the sofa.
At 4:45 am, we were walking in the terminal. The terminal was desolate and reminded me of how I felt on the inside. I placed my bag in line at the door and went and talked with my parents. By 5:10, a few more people had drifted in. I saw some people I went to high school with so I went over and talked to them for a while. We caught up on the latest news, and I told them about some of the guys from the basketball team that I tracked down when I first got back. I let them know that everyone was fine. That's when this one girl, who I was told had a crush on me in high school, asked, "So how's your boy, Jay? I remember you two used to be pretty close. Where is he now anyway?"
"He's fine. He goes to my school."
"Really?" she asked. "I should have known you two would go to school together. That basketball team must me scary with both of you on it. You see him a lot?"
"He's my roommate."
"Oh, that's cool! I wish one of my girls would have gone to school with me and been my roommate, because the girl I'm living with now is a whack job." The other members in our little crowd laughed.
I changed the topic and asked where they were headed. They told me they were headed to surprise one of my old teammates on the other side of the country who couldn't make the trip home for the holidays because he had practice and a game. I thought that was sweet of them, but I knew they were really just going to party. They told me that they had a two hour bus ride and then they were catching a plane and flying out to see him. They said they were staying at some nice hotel that they all chipped in to pay for and they were going to go to his game and spend a few days with him, before they came back home and chilled for the rest of their break. I wished I could have a month break like them, but basketball players don't get winter break. I also wished I could have flown away with them, anywhere was better than where I was headed.
At 5:30 am, the first boarding call for my bus was made and I excused myself from my former classmates. I went over to my parents and said my goodbyes. To my surprise, my father hugged me and told me to come back soon. My mother hugged me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I was happy that there weren't that many people on the bus by 6. I knew we were going to stop and pick up more passengers along the way, but I liked having my own seat and my own space to do battle with my thoughts. I wondered where Lionel was, but I was relieved that I didn't have to face him. The bus driver got on the bus and I thought I was in the clear, but then he opened the bus door for someone. A few words were exchanged, and then Lionel walked on the bus.
Lionel looked disheveled. He had stubble on his face like he hadn't shaved the whole time he was away. His clothes were wrinkled and a mess. He was wearing sunglasses, his bag was half open, with clothes hanging out. I prayed he wouldn't see me, but I guess I should have known better. He walked directly to me, put his bag in the bin, and sat down next to me. I noticed he had a smell too, like he desperately needed a shower.
"What's up?" he asked as he assaulted my nose with his breath. I assumed he hadn't brushed his teeth either.
I wasn't sure what to say, or how to react. "Did you get my present?" I asked him. For some reason, the gift was the first thing that popped in my head. I think part of me wanted to know if he liked what I got him.
"What present?" he asked.
"Nothing, sorry, I'm a little confused."
"Oh, okay," he said.
I put my hand on his shoulder and he almost jumped out of his skin. I pretended like I didn't notice. "So how was your visit?" I asked. I wondered if he even remembered.
Copyright Lustyville 2006 Please send comments to lustyville@yahoo.com and check out my yahoo group at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/lustyville.