Aftermath

 

I don’t remember much of what happened for the next several days after Pete left.  I was told later that after I broke down in the driveway I started puking all over myself.  They had to call an ambulance to transport me because I wouldn’t be touched and tried to hit anyone that came near me.  The paramedics finally tackled me and tied me down to a gurney, which was when I really lost it if I hadn’t already.  I voided everything from bowels to bladder, and if I’d had anything left in my stomach, that would have been in the ambulance, too.  They kept me strapped down until the doctor at the hospital gave me an injection to put me out.

 

The next time I was conscious and coherent was three days after Pete had been taken from me. me.  I was still in the hospital when I came to, and mom was sleeping in the chair next to my bed. bed.  It was one of those fold up models that turns into a narrow single sleeper.  I had an IV stuck in one arm, and it was about three according to the clock.  It must have been early morning because everything was dark and quiet.

 

I really didn’t want to talk to my mother, but I needed to get that tube out of my arm.  I hate IVs. those things.  Somehow they leave me feeling violated.  After searching for a moment, I found the nurse call button on the side rail of my bed and pressed it.

 

“Yes?” The nurse’s voice over the speaker phone was pleasant sounding, if a bit metallic.  I quickly glanced at the woman who slept next to me, and to my extreme relief, she continued sleeping.

 

“Can someone take this thing out of my arm?”  I asked quietly.

 

“I’ll be there in a moment.”

 

Not more than a minute later, my mother was awakened by the nurse turning on the overhead light.  I was right, she did have a pretty voice, but that was all that was pretty about her.  She was a grandmotherly type: homely but pleasant.  Her name was Esther Dominik.

 

Mom looked up at the nurse with a blistering rebuke on her lips, but then saw that I was awake.  She started to smile at me, but I pointedly turned my head in the other direction, jaw clinched tightly.  She had known Pete was leaving, and she didn’t even tell me so I could say goodbye.  She’d betrayed me. I hated her, and I really didn’t want her near me.

 

The nurse came to the bedside and asked, “How are you feeling?”

 

“Fine,” I said bluntly.  “Will you take this out now?”  I held up my wrist with the tubing taped to it.

 

“We’ll have to wait for the doctor,” the nurse replied.  “He’ll be here about seven.”

 

Wonderful, I thought.  Four more hours with this damn tube in my arm.

 

 Nurse Dominic took the blood pressure cuff off the wall and slipped it around my arm.  She performed her tasks in silence, efficient and professional.  When she had finished taking my pulse and temperature, she said, “I’ll make sure you are the doctor’s first stop, okay?” 

 

“You sure we can’t take it out earlier?” I asked with some hope.

 

 She shook her head and said, “And if you try, we’ll have to strap you down again.”

 

Again? I thought, as the nurse wrote on my chart.

 

Mom stood up and came to my bedside.  Before she said anything, I whipped my head around and glared at her. 

 

“You knew!”  I threw the accusation at her, shocking both my mother and my nurse.

 

“Brian, honey, I was trying to spare you this pain.”

 

 She put her hand on mine, and I jerked it away so fast I almost yanked the IV out.

 

“Don’t touch me!  You never listen, and you never take what I say seriously!”  Tears filled my eyes.  “I loved him!” I cried loudly.  “And you just blew that off like usual.  I hate you for not telling me and letting me say goodbye to him.  It never even occurred to you that I could love anyone but you!  Well, guess what.  I don’t love you anymore.  You are no better than....  Just get out.  I don’t want you here! Get out!”

 

“Brian, you can’t possibly mean that...”

 

“Leave! Now!”  I looked to the nurse for help with tear-flooded eyes.

 

“Mrs. Kellam, you’d better come with me,” the nurse requested.  “We can’t have him agitated right now, and you seem to be upsetting him.”

 

My voice cracked as I said,  “I don’t want her in my room again!”

 

“Come with me Mrs. Kellam.”  The nurse dragged my mother bodily from the room.  When she came back in, I hastily attempted to rub the tears out, but they didn’t stop. 

 

Then I thought, Fuck it.  I have a right to cry now.  And that’s what I did.

 

I started bawling.  The longer I cried, the worse I got.  Nurse Dominik came over to my bedside and spread her arms wide.  I threw myself into her and buried my head into her chest, crying even harder as time went on.  I couldn’t quit.  I tried and tried, but the tears kept coming.

 

I couldn’t tell you how long or how many times I cried with her holding me that night.  Just as I would get myself under control, another surge of despondency would take me back to the depths in an instant.  Esther Dominick was there, holding me in her arms and stroking my hair, comforting me, mothering me.  I needed that touch, that connection at that moment, and my own mother had abdicated her right.

 

I did finally wear down, but the nurse stayed with me for the half hour remaining before the doctor finally arrived.  When he got there, my mom tried to follow him in.  I didn’t want her there, and told her in no uncertain terms to get out.  This took the doctor by surprise, but a quick glance at the nurse prompted him to ask her to wait outside.

 

“Wasn’t your shift over an hour ago, Esther?”

 

“Yes, but this young man needed me to be here.  He woke about three this morning  and called me in to ask to have the IV removed.  From the time Mrs. Kellam awoke, he demanded she leave.  I haven’t been able to ascertain why, but there was a name mentioned, and I assume that this person left for somewhere else rather suddenly.”

 

“Do you want to add anything?  You can talk to me if you like.  I won’t tell your mom, seeing how you feel about her.”

 

I thought about it for a moment.  My life was over anyway, so why not just tell them the truth?  I told them about Pete and me from the bleachers on Wednesday up through the events of the morning Pete left, and left nothing out, not even the fact that we thought we were gay.  I cried several times, but not the disabling bouts I had had earlier.  Finally, coming to the end, I stated, “But none of that matters now.  He’s gone and he’s not coming back.”

 

I could feel an undercurrent of alarm passing between the doctor and Esther Dominick.

 

“Esther, call psych and see if you can get Dr. Rasek to come up and visit,” the man said.  “I think he might be able to help you, Brian.  Tell him exactly what you told me, okay?”

 

I shrugged. 

 

“He can’t help you unless you tell him the truth.  Now let’s see that IV.  I think we can take it out now that you are awake and can feed yourself.  I’ll be back in this afternoon to check on you.”

“I can’t leave today?”

 

“No, I’m afraid not.  You were effectively comatose for three days.  We have to make sure that there is nothing seriously wrong, and that means a minimum of twenty-four hours observation, maybe longer depending on what we find.”

 

“I don’t want my mom or dad in here at all then.  They betrayed me, and I don’t want to see them.”  The pain I felt was obvious in my voice.

 

“You’re sure?”

 

I just stared at him.

 

“I see.  Is there anyone else you want me to call?”

 

“Danny Trask.  He’s a deputy sheriff.  You can try his home number first, then try the station.”

 

I gave them the numbers.  The doctor removed the IV from my wrist.  It took effort to speak through my grief-constricted vocal cords.

 

“Thank you for understanding.  Not many people listen to me.”

 

“You’re welcome, Brian.  I’ll leave instructions at the desk that your mom and dad are not to be let in, and I’ll call Deputy Trask for you.  Just try to rest for now, tiger.”

 

Esther started to follow him, but I stopped her with a word.

 

“Thank you for being here with me.  It means a lot.  If you hadn’t been here...”  I couldn’t continue because I was suddenly all choked up.

 

“I know,” she said gently.  “I’ll be back tonight, so I’ll see you then.  For now, try to sleep, and don’t let yourself get too worked up, okay?”

 

“I’ll try.”

 

She smiled and left the room.  I could hear Mom arguing with the doctor, stating she was my mother and she had the right to be by my side.  The doctor informed her that under ordinary circumstances that would be true, but he was of the opinion that letting her in would be detrimental to my recovery, and if she persisted she would be escorted out of the building.  A dark smile crossed my face in triumph.

 

About an hour after the doctor left, an orderly brought in my breakfast.  It was only hospital food, and broth at that, but it was the best food I had ever had considering my stomach had been empty for four days.  I wolfed down what was on the tray and asked for more.  They obliged and gave me some Jell-o.  I wolfed it down too, and resigned to waiting until my next feeding frenzy at lunch.  I managed to drift off to sleep despite the huger pangs my breakfast had left me with.

 

Danny arrived shortly after ten o’clock, in uniform of course.  I don’t think he ever took a day off.

 

“Hey, kiddo, how are you doing?” He asked with concern.

 

“Doing okay.  How are you?”

 

“I’m good now that you’re awake. You sure you’re okay?”

 

I nodded in the affirmative.  “Danny, I have to ask you a question.”

 

“Shoot.”

 

“Can I come and live with you?” I rushed onward as I saw him frown.  “I don’t want to go home. I hate my parents for not telling me he was leaving.”

 

He shifted uncomfortably and said, “Brian, you have to go home.  That’s where you belong, with your mom and dad.”  He paused, weighing his words carefully.  “Try not to be too hard on us.  We made a decision to try to protect you, and it was a mistake.  We’re only human.”

 

I realized what he meant by including himself in those statements.

 

“You knew, too!” I accused harshly.

 

He nodded.  “I knew Saturday when I came up to the house.  That was what I was arguing with Brenda about.  I wanted to tell you boys what was going to happen, but she forbade it.”

“You knew and you still didn’t tell us?  I thought you of all people would realize how we felt!  You saw us, you said you were there for us, but you betrayed us just like mom and dad did!”

 

“Brian...”

 

“No!  Just get out.  I don’t want to see you, either.  Go away.”

 

He looked deep in my eyes, and when I turned my head away from him, he sighed heavily.   I could see pain in his expression.

 

“I’m still here if you need anything,” he offered quietly.

 

“How can I believe that now?” I asked without looking at him.  “After you betrayed me you expect me to trust you?  Just get out.”

 

He looked at me once more, shook his head and said,  “I’m truly sorry, Brian.  If I had it to do over, I would tell you.  I’m sorry.”

 

He left and shut the doorquietly.  I began to cry once more.  Of all the people in the world I might be able to trust , to be able to understand, I would never have believed Danny would do this to me.  He could have told me.  He should have told me.  He was worse than my parents were, because he believed me and Pete when we told him we were in love, and he still didn’t tell us.

 

The door opened not more than a minute after Danny left.  I could still hear his voice outside talking to someone.  Some doctor in a shirt and tie walked in and introduced himself as Dr. Rasek.

 

“How are you, Brian?”

 

I snuffled deeply.  “I’m fine,” I said as I tried to hide my tears.

 

“Your chart says that you had a seizure a few days ago and arrived at the emergency room comatose.  Do you remember what happened right before your seizure?”

 

“Yeah.  My boyfriend was taken from me.”

“Boyfriend?  You think you’re gay?” The doctor questioned.

 

“I am gay.”

 

“Well, you’re too young to know that for sure yet.  Why did you feel this other boy was your boyfriend?”

 

“Pete was my boyfriend.  We came out to each other on Wednesday and we got really close to each other.”

 

The man looked at me for a moment and then returned his gaze to my chart.  “How long were you together as a couple?”

 

“Four days.  Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday.  His mom took him away on Sunday morning, early, like six-thirty.  I broke down in the driveway, so I’m told.  I don’t remember anything after that until I woke up this morning.”

 

“Hmm.  You think you loved him?”

 

“I do love him.  I don’t think it, I know I do.”

 

“I don’t think that you’re old enough to understand adult love yet.  It was probably just a crush that felt like what you imagine love to be.  Some boys have sexual encounters with other boys and grow up to be healthy heterosexuals.  It’s all perfectly….”

 

“What kind of a shrink are you?  You’re treating me no better than anyone else.  I’m serious about what I’m saying and you’re telling me I’m too young?  You’re dismissing my thoughts and feelings because I’m a kid?  That’s bullshit!” 

 

A nurse picked that moment to walk in, and I think what she had heard so far was shocking her.

 

“I’m going to tell you the same thing I told my parents.  Get out!  I don’t want to talk to you or see you any more.  If you can’t take what I have to say seriously, I can’t trust you, so just go back to where you came from.”

 

I turned my head away pointedly, crossed my arms and didn’t respond to his apologies and pleas for my attention.  After a few minutes, he gave up and left, no doubt seeing me as a hopeless case.

 

The nurse then took it upon herself to lecture me on my manners and how I treat the doctors.

 

“Who do you think you are, yelling at Dr. Rasek like that?” She began.  “You shouldn’t be yelling at anyone, much less an adult, and a doctor at that.  Someone should teach you some manners, young man!”

 

“Who the hell do you think you are, lecturing me?  I ain’t your kid,” I said flippantly

 

“Thank goodness,” she rejoined.  “If you were my child I’d take you over my knee and then wash out your mouth!” 

 

“You and whose army?” I asked with heavy sarcasm.

 

“You need to learn manners and respect for adults,” she stated. 

 

“I respect the adults that respect me!” I responded with some heat.

 

Obviously your parents didn’t do a very good job.”

 

“You have no idea, lady.  I want to talk to your supervisor.  Now!”

 

Her face paled.  She stared at me for a moment and then left the room.  These people would learn not to fuck with me. 

 

When the floor supervisor came in, I told her that if the nurses couldn’t treat me with respect and take me seriously, I didn’t want them in my room.  I think I surprised her, but she told me she agreed I had the right to voice my concerns.  I had no more problems in the hospital like those I had with Rasek and that nurse.

 

The rest of the day went by slowly.  People knew I wanted to be left alone. Unless they had to come in to take vitals or draw blood they stayed out, which was fine with me. 

 

Six o’clock rolled around and shortly after, Esther came in.  She told me she had made arrangements to stay with me until I fell asleep.  She was good to her word, sitting with me and telling me of her life, her experiences with love lost and how she got through it with time.  I cried a bit during our conversation, and she held me again.  About nine I started to get tired, and I drifted off the sleep in her arms listening to her hum some nameless tune. 

 

I awoke the next morning at seven thirty when the doctor came in and checked me out.  He said I was well enough to go home as soon as someone showed up to drive me.  I told him I’d walk, and he said I couldn’t; he had to release me to an adult.  Danny showed up at eight fifteen, met me in my room, and followed me to his car as the nurse wheeled me out.  They must have made special arrangements for Danny to pick me up.  Mom or dad should have been here, but obviously I wasn’t important enough for them to take the time to pick me up. 

 

The drive was excruciating.  Danny kept apologizing, going on and on about how they made a mistake, that they were very sorry, and asking if I would try to forgive them.  I didn’t respond to any of it.  The wounds were still too fresh.

 

I steeled myself against coming home to the last place I had seen Pete.  I didn’t die when I turned the corner, but I did feel a lump in my throat and a holde in my stomach, both of which grew bigger as we got closer to the house.  Danny left me in the driveway with the reminder that he was there if I wanted to talk or anything.  I just nodded, already focusing on going in the house.

 

When I opened the door, I could see Mom and dad standing behind the couch.  It was obvious to me they wanted to rush me, to put their arms around me and squeeze me to death.  I honestly can’t say what I would have done if they had.  Dawn was sitting in the dining room looking on with curiosity.

 

“Welcome home, son.” Dad spoke first.  I could tell it was an effort for him.  Mom started to say something, but I interrupted her.

 

“I know why you did what you did, but it still feels like a betrayal.  I can’t easily forgive that, and it’ll take time.  Don’t push me.”

 

Mom and dad looked at each other.  I’m not sure if they expected this reaction to coming home.  She looked worried, fragile.

 

Mom asked, “May I give you a hug?” 

 

I resisted my gut reaction to turn her down.  I did have to live there, after all.  I nodded and she came over to me, looking in my eyes. 

 

She got on her knees, wrapped me in her arms and repeated the words, “My poor baby,” over and over.

 

I didn’t respond to her, staring at my father.  He stared back at me, sadness and regret etched on his face.  He spoke again.

 

“Brian, please believe we’re sorry.  We didn’t realize that you felt as strongly as you did.  If we had, we would have done things differently.”  I forcibly separated myself from my mother.

 

“You know why you didn’t realize?  You didn’t listen to me.  I told you twice in two days.  I told you Friday night, and I told mom again Saturday night just before I left when you told me I was imagining things!”

 

“Will someone tell me what happened?  I hate not knowing what’s going on,” Dawn whined from the dining room. We all ignored her.

 

“Brian...”

 

“You never take anything I say seriously, otherwise you would have known how we felt. I may be twelve, but I’m more grown up than a lot of adults I know.  And since when does age tell what a person can feel?  Do I have to be fourteen before I can experience love?  Sixteen?  Twenty?”

 

I stopped my tirade.  Mom was tearing up and dad looked to be retreating into his shell again.

 

“Brian has a girlfriend?” Dawn again.

 

“Dawn, this is none of your business, leave it alone,” my dad ordered.  “And don’t pester Brian.  If I hear of you bothering him, I’ll ground you.  No ifs, ands, or buts.”

 

“But...”

 

“What did I just say?”

 

“Yes, dad,” Dawn acquiesced dejectedly.

 

I turned and went to my room without another word.  No one objected.  Shutting the door quietly behind me, I stood there examining what remained of the last night Pete was there.  The sleeping bag and pillow still littered the floor.  I tried to imagine his face lying on the pillow: the face I’d seen just hours before my world was torn asunder, and the person I had been destroyed utterly.

 

Tears filled my eyes, but I forced them back with will alone.  I wouldn’t cry over this.  It just was.  I needed to go on now.  Somehow, I needed to live with the fact that my only true friend, my boyfriend, had been ripped from my life.  I needed to live with the fact that my parents knew it was going to happen and didn’t tell me.  I needed to live with the fact I was gay. 

 

I needed Pete.

 

A wave of agonizing sadness swept through my body.  I fell to my knees and cried bitter tears as my anger toward my parents and Danny grew by an order of magnitude.  I’d never again trust them.  Never. Never. Never!

 

I slowly laid down where Pete had slept.  I feverishly clutched the pillow Pete’s head had lain on.  I inhaled deeply, catching the scent of his shampoo: a scent I’d always associate with him.  From deep inside a primal roar forced its way out, ripping through my throat.  The pain of separation came to me in full measure.  Sobs wracked my small twelve-year-old frame, muscles spasming into tight knots all over my body.  The door to my room opened.

 

“Brian, honey…”

 

“Get out of my room!”  My voice was a ragged scream.

 

“Sweetheart, let me…”

 

“Get the fuck out!  You’ve done enough!  I hate you!”

 

She stood there with a saddened, pained expression.  Tears began to fill her eyes, which infuriated me even more.

 

“Brian, can’t I at least…”

 

I stood up in an instant and pushed my mom out of the room, slamming the door behind her.  Leaning against the door, I sank into a crouch as I cried hard.

 

“Leave me alone!  I hate you!  Just stay the fuck away!”

 

No more than a second later, I was thrown forward as my door burst inward, my shoulder ramming into the wall.  Dad stood there, nostrils flaring and brow furrowed with anger.

 

“That is enough, young man.  You do not talk to your mother that way!”

 

“Fuck you!”

 

I think my open defiance stunned him for an instant, but his anger grew as quickly as mine had.  He advanced on me, trying to grab me.  As his hand reached my shoulder, I took desperate action.

 

I stepped into him and screamed, “Don’t touch me!”

 

I hit him square in the crotch with all the force I could muster behind my fist.  Gasps escaped both my mother and father as he sank to his knees clutching himself.  Driven by blind rage and anguish, I jumped around my father, pushed my mother against the wall and ran out of the house.

 

I ran and ran until I couldn’t run any more.  I ended up some three miles away, up in the woods behind where we lived.  I collapsed against a tree and considered my options. I couldn’t go back home.  I’d just hammered my father in the balls, and he’d be furious.  I didn’t want to go back there anyway.  Pete had been there.  I couldn’t call Danny because he’d betrayed me just as badly as my parents had.  Pat?  No.  His parents would send me back home in an instant.  That left only one place to go.  I stood up slowly, stretching my rapidly tightening muscles, and walked back toward my neighborhood. 

 

God, let them be home, I prayed.  If they weren’t I didn’t know what else to do.

 

As I came closer to my destination, my mind once again brought the emotion and pain to the surface.  I started bawling again, snot running down my face with the tears.  I couldn’t stop.  Once more, sobs took over, shaking me down to my shoes.

 

My forward progress halted about ten feet from the door.  Everything around me had a surreal cast to it, a dream-like quality.  I spent the next several minutes just taking in my surroundings, committing them to memory.  This was the end of my childhood; the end of my innocence; the beginning of a new existence filled with pain and suffering.

 

I finally managed to make it to their front door and again tried to compose myself, but it just wasn’t happening.  I rang the doorbell, hoping against hope they were home.  I heard a voice from inside the house, the voice of a boy turning into a man.

 

Thank you, God.

 

The door swung open.  “Hi… Brian, are you okay?  What’s wrong, buddy?”

 

“He’s gone, Chris.  He’s gone.”  I collapsed against my only friend in the world.

 

“Mom!  I need help!”

 

Chris staggered back under my slight weight and slid us down to the floor, holding me tightly as he did so.  Footsteps pounded down the hall leading from the bedrooms upstairs. 

 

“Christopher Michael!  You’d better have a good reason for scaring the living daylights out of me!”

 

Kathlene descended the four steps and turned the corner to see her son and his friend in a heap on the entryway floor.

 

“Chris?”

 

“It’s Brian.  He said, ‘He’s gone,’ and then just fell into me!”

 

“Okay, honey.  Let’s get him upstairs into the spare room.”

 

They helped me to my feet, and I let Kathlene lead me upstairs. 

 

I wasn’t crying any longer but tears were still falling.  I was numb.  The events of the past week passed before my mind’s eye:  Pete coming out to me behind the bleachers; Joe nearly catching me; Pete’s anguished cries; the argument the night before he was taken away; the last time I saw him; my mom and dad trying to comfort me when I got home and then trying to force their way into my grief; punching my dad.  Those events had changed my life forever. 

 

I was in a trance: aware of what was going on around me, but I couldn’t break out of the stupor I was in.  I think I was in shock.  Kathlene and Chris undressed me, and put me into the bed. 

 

“Chris, you stay here and keep him in the bed.  I’m going to make a few phone calls.”

 

“Okay, Mom.  Mom?”  Chris’ tone expressed the worry he felt.

 

“Yes?”

 

“What happened to him?”

 

“I don’t know, hon, but I intend to find out.”  She left the room leaving Chris with me.

 

“Brian, buddy, hang in there.  Everything will be okay.”  Chris sat by my bed, watching me lay there, immobile, staring at the ceiling.  His hand held mine in a damp clammy grip, occasionally tightening to the point of pain. 

 

Kathlene came back a few moments later.  “His mother is coming to take him home, Chris.  We need to get him…”

“No.”  I think I startled them both with that single word.

 

“I beg your pardon?” Kathlene asked.

 

I sat up on the bed and said, “No.  I’m not going with her, not ever.”

 

“Brian, you need to be home with your family.  Whatever it is…”

 

“No!  I ain’t got no family anymore!  They betrayed me!  They knew and didn’t tell me!” 

 

Chris sat, wide-eyed, as I argued with his mother.

 

“Didn’t tell you what, Brian?” She asked, mildly perturbed.

 

“That she was taking Pete away!  They knew and didn’t tell me!  I didn’t even get to say goodbye…” 

 

The pressure was too great.  I couldn’t take any more.  Once again, I broke down into massive sobs and howling cries of overwhelming sadness.  Kathlene watched me rockin disbelief as I rocked myself for a moment, then sat on the bed and took me into her arms.  It was exactly what I needed.  I buried my head into her shoulder as she held me in a motherly embrace.

 

“Mom?”  Chris’ voice held a note of fear.

 

“Not now, Christopher.  Get the box of tissue from the bathroom, please.”

 

“Sure, Mom,” he said uncertainly.

 

Time passed for me without measure.  When I next became aware, the doorbell sounded from the front door.

 

“I’m not going with her,” I said.  “I’ll kill myself first.”

 

Anger colored Kathlene’s response.  “Brian Andrew Kellam, you will never again say such a thing.  Do I make myself clear?”

 

I glared back at her and simply said, “I mean it.”

 

“Christopher, answer the door.  I’ll be down shortly.”

 

“Yes, Mom.”  Once he had gone, Kathlene peered deeply into my unflinching gaze.

 

“Brian, what happened to you?” She asked.

 

“I lost him.  They took… him away from me,” I said as a shudder went through my body.

 

“Whom did they take away from you?” She asked with some confusion.

 

“Pete.”

 

“Peter Jameson?”

 

I nodded pathetically. 

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

Shrugging my shoulders, I dropped my eyes, staring at my hands in my lap.  Another shudder shook my frame.

 

“Brian, tell me why he was so important to you.  Help me understand.”  Kathlene pleaded.

 

My mother’s voice came from downstairs as she spoke to Chris, and that spurred me into action.  I physically pushed Kathlene off the bed and jumped up.  I hurriedly dressed as Kathlene began to rebuke me.  She went on while I slipped into my shoes without tying them.  I stood again and started out the door.

 

“Brian Kellam, where do you think you’re going?” Kathlene demanded.  “You come back here and talk to me!”

 

I paused just outside the bedroom door and said, “There’s nothing to talk about.  I’m not going with her.  If you think I’m going to let you turn me over to her…” 

 

 I continued through the hall and down the stairs where Chris was doing his best to calm my mother.  When she saw me over his shoulder, she barreled right past him, her furious expression rekindling my own rage.

 

I pointed a finger at her and yelled, “I’m warning you!  Don’t touch me!  Leave – me -  alone!” 

 

As I expected, she ignored my words and clamped her hand down on my arm.  With all my might, I ripped it away from her.

 

Mom’s voice carried her ire as she spoke.  “You’re in big trouble, mister.”

 

“What else is new?” I asked defiantly.

 

“When your father gets his hands on you…”

 

“It’ll never happen,” I said coldly.  “I’m not going with you.  Ever.” 

 

She took a step toward me and I took a step back to maintain my distance with my hands balled into fists.

 

“If you touch me again, I’m fighting back,”  I warned.

 

 The determination in my voice gave my mother pause.  She stopped and glared into my eyes, trying to force me to drop my gaze.  In the past, she’d always been successful.  Not this time.

 

She changed tactics and said, “Brian, honey, please come home.  There are things we need to talk about as a family.”

 

“I have no family,” I pronounced icily.  “I trusted you! Do you realize what you did to me?  You destroyed me!” 

 

The color drained from my mother’s face.

 

“We were only doing what we thought best, Brian!” She shouted.

 

“What you thought best?” I asked incredulously.  “Did you ever think of asking me what I thought was best?”

 

“Brian…”

 

“No!  It’s over.  Good bye!” 

 

Turning on my heel, I strode for the garage door without a backward glance.  Kathlene stepped out of my way as I passed. 

 

“Thanks for nothing,” I said out of pique.  She didn’t respond.

 

I managed to maintain my composure until I had the door shut behind me.  My shoulders slumped, and the misery returned.  I couldn’t go home.  I wouldn’t go to Danny.  Mrs. Forn had rejected me.  What was I supposed to do?  For the moment, I thought I’d hide out where no one would hopefully think to look.  There was David’s and Chris’ weight room was right there.  It was so close to the house that they wouldn’t think of looking there, at least until I could come up with a plan. 

 

I entered the room.  Weights, dumbbells and bars hung neatly on the wood plank walls.  The front third of the room was open for jumping rope or calisthenics. Exercise mats stood against the front wall. A treadmill stood in one back corner gathering dust.  Two weight benches stood side by side in the center of the room about three feet from the wall. At the far end, a squat frame stood against the back wall.  Only one corner was bare of exercise equipment, and it had a mini refrigerator with a radio on top.  The room smelled of lumber and sweat. 

 

I pulled a couple mats out of their bin on the front wall and stacked them up below the far weight bench where I’d be harder to see with a casual glance.  I was tired and weak from hunger.  As I lay down, grief once more overwhelmed me. I don’t know how long it took, but I eventually cried myself into restless sleep.

 

When I woke I was stiff, sore, and more depressed than usual.  The sun was just rising and cast a pink tinge onto everything its light touched.  I’d slept through the whole day and night.  As I stretched my body, my stomach realized I hadn’t put anything into it for almost twenty-four hours.  Opening the door to the weight room slightly so I could see out, I saw no movement in the kitchen.  I decided to risk a raid on their cereal, if I could get in.

 

I carefully crept to the garage door and tested the knob.  Wonder of wonders, it was open.  Emboldened, I moved to the door leading into the kitchen.  Gingerly, I turned the handle expecting resistance at any point.  Beyond all hope, the door was unlocked.  I had access to food. Quickly but quietly I poured myself a bowl of cereal and milk and a glass of orange juice.  Afraid of being caught, I wolfed both down and placed the dishes in the dishwasher, hoping they wouldn’t be noticed.   I then left the way I’d come in and retreated back to the weight room where I lay back down and fell asleep again.

 

When next I woke, it was sometime in the middle of the morning.  Frustration was building because I still didn’t have a plan or anywhere to go.  My body was suffused with nervous energy and I had no outlet.  Looking around, I decided to do some lifting to work off that energy.  I picked up a bar that felt like it weighed a ton.  Half staggering to the rear bench, I managed to take a seat without the weight bowling over my ninety-pound frame.  I layed down carefully and rolled the bar onto my chest where I positioned my hands for a press.  I lifted, and was surprised that it was not terribly difficult to move considering that I’d never lifted a weight in my life.

 

I continued to pump the bar up and down until my arms and chest began to tire.  As I was pressing up my last lift, a voice startled me.

 

“You’re going to kill yourself working out alone like this.”

 

My strength failed with my surprise and the bar dropped hard onto my chest where it rolled down toward my throat.  The next thing I knew, arms reached down and lifted the bar onto the stanchions, freeing me from my predicament.

 

“Uh, thanks, Chris,” I said, much embarrassed.

 

“No problem, Brian,” Chris replied.  “Just promise me you’ll never use a bar alone again.  It’s really dangerous, and the way you lift, you’re going to hurt your back anyway.”

 

“Are you going to tell your mom I’m here?”

 

He snorted and said,  “Of course.  She’d figure it out anyway. Besides, those pads aren’t very comfortable, so you don’t wanna sleep out here.  Plus, the showers are inside.  I’m sure you don’t want to reek all the time. And there’s no way I’m serving you meals out here.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“Sure you do, Brian.”

 

“Uh, not really.”

 

Chris stared hard at me and said, “This is the first time I’ve ever known you to play dumb.”

 

“Give me a break, will ya?” I said with some heat.  “I’ve been through a lot.”

 

Chris’ voice mellowed a bit and his expression grew pensive. “Yeah, you have.  Alright, here’s the scoop.  You’re going to be staying with me and mom for a while.  You’ll get the spare room.”

 

“For how long?”

 

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask mom when she gets home?”

 

I looked deep into his eyes, searching for signs of treachery and deceit, but I found none. 

 

“When’s that?” I asked.

 

“She’ll be home after work and after she goes to the grocery store.  She’s got another mouth to feed now,” Chris said with a slight smile.

 

“I can’t stay here,” I stated.

 

“Why not?” Chris asked curiously.

 

“Because my mom and dad know where to find me. They’ll want me back.”

 

“Brian, it was their decision,” Chris informed me.  “My mom suggested it and they agreed.”

 

“I don’t believe you,”  I said, my tone accusing.

 

Chris’ eyes narrowed and his voice turned deadly serious.  “I wouldn’t lie about something as important as this.” 

 

Again I examined him for hints of deception, and again, I found none.

 

“How long?” I asked.

 

“Don’t know,” he said as he shrugged.  “I didn’t hear anything about a time limit.”

 

My mind was in a shambles.  Nothing made any sense.  Kathlene had volunteered to take me in?  My parents agreed?  Why?  What could they possibly be hoping to accomplish?  What was Chris’ part?  Was he supposed to help me relax so I could be returned home?

 

 God, why did you have to take Pete from me?  Things were so much simpler.  I had a new life.  I had a new hope.  I even had a family then, but it had all been taken away.

 

“Brian, what are you thinking?”

 

“I’m thinking… I can’t stay here.  It’s not right to take advantage of you or your mom like this.”

 

“Of course you can stay here.  You aren’t taking advantage of us.”

 

“What would you call it then?”

 

“Accepting an offer you can’t refuse.”  The godfather accent he used caused me to crack a grin.

 

“Look, Brian,” Chris said, “at least you can come inside and wash up, have lunch, and wait it out inside with me.  I need some company.”

 

Once again, I studied his face.  He was sincere.

 

“Okay.  For now.”

 

“Cool.  Come on, bud.  I’ll show you were the sandwich stuff is.”

 

 He led me into the kitchen and pulled out the peanut butter and strawberry jam.  I saw the bread on the counter and took out a couple slices for myself.

 

“Are you going to eat too?” I asked.

 

“Nah.  I ate a couple hours ago. I was going to work out and then I saw you lifting the bar.”

 

“Oh, okay.”  I continued fixing my lunch, letting the conversation lapse. 

 

Chris watched me carefully, but I pretended to be unaware of his scrutiny. With the addition of some chips and a soda, I sat next to him at the kitchen bar and ate in the loud silence.  Chris observed me quietly as I ate, watching my every motion like I was going to shatter or something.  It made me nervous. 

 

When I was done I rinsed off my plate and put it in the dishwasher.

 

What next, I wondered. 

 

As if hearing my thought, Chris responded, “Do you want to get settled into your room? Mom and I got it all cleaned up yesterday after... well, you know.” 

 

I shrugged, and walked up the stairs to the first door on the right.  The bedroom held a twin bed with a nightstand and lamp in the opposite corner from the door, and a dresser and chair near the bed’s foot.  A closet was directly in front of the door with its open double folding doors facing the room.  Three boxes were neatly stacked inside the closet, two labeled “Clothes,” and the top box labeled “Personal Items.”

 

From behind me, Chris said, “Your mom brought these up this morning.  We’ll go down to your place later and you can pick up anything else you want to have while you stay here.”

 

Wordlessly, I lifted the top box out of the closet and placed it on the bed.  I silently prayed that everything I wanted was contained in those three boxes, because I didn’t want to see either of my parents faces again for a long, long time.

 

When I opened the box, my heart fell.  The box contained my toothbrush and paste, my shampoo and shower gel, a few books that I placed aside, and a stick of antiperspirant that I’d never cracked open.  My baseball equipment was there, too, but they’d forgotten my jock strap and cup. The rest of the box’s contents were little items I used or liked to play around with, like the watch that I never wore and an electronic poker game. 

 

The final item enraged me.  Someone had included a picture of my parents, my sister, and me.  My Little League coach had taken it after one of the best baseball games I’d ever played in my eleven-year-old year.  Mom had it framed and the picture had sat on my desk ever since.

 

I looked again at the still frame, staring at the boy in the picture.  He was happy, good looking, and filthy as a pig.  A huge smile dominated his face, and his eyes were sparkling.  Closing my eyes, I tried to recall that day to memory, but could not.  The boy in that picture was a stranger, someone I didn’t know.  That boy was dead.

 

Turning on my heel, I threw the picture against the hall wall, barely missing Chris.  The glass shattered as it struck, shards spraying everywhere.  The square wooden frame placed a huge indentation into the sheetrock before falling to the floor.

 

Chris took in the damage I had done, and then stared at me with wide, startled eyes.  His expression changed fromanger to shock and then to fear as he saw what was in my eyes.  Involuntarily, he took a backward step.  I stood still, just meeting his gaze.  His voice cracked as he spoke.

 

“Brian, are you okay?”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.Good.  Swell.  Fucking wonderful!”

 

 Chris continued to back away from me until he was outside the door.

 

“I’ll, um, give you some time to yourself, Brian. To, um, settle in, okay? Call me if you need anything.”  Without waiting for a reply he closed the door, leaving me to suffer alone.