Something Like Thunder

by Jay Bell

  Nathaniel blinked against the light and smacked his mouth a few times, tasting stale drool. His mother sat on the edge of the bed, a hand on his back. He scowled at her encouraging smile. “It’s not a school day.”

  “No, but breakfast is almost ready. I want you in the dining room.”

  Breakfast? Since when did his customary bowl of cereal require waking him up? Then again, he did detect the faint aroma of bacon in the air. Or wafting from the apron his mother wore. This almost made him laugh. Normally she always dressed so stylishly, more than once being mistaken for his older sister. Recently she had watched some old black and white television show and fallen in love with how wholesome families appeared back then. Now she struggled to recreate what she had seen, if only for one meal.

  “I tried having a family dinner and failed,” she said, confirming his suspicions. “If I can’t get everyone at the table during the evening, it’ll have to be in the morning.”

  “Do I have time for a shower?”

  “Nope. I need you at the table. Now.”

  He grunted his agreement, remaining stationary a few minutes after she had left. Then he sighed and dragged himself from bed. He pulled on the jeans he’d worn the day before and reached for the T-shirt before remembering that he’d used it to wipe up a sticky mess just before falling asleep.

  “Nate!”

  He rolled his eyes at his mother’s voice and stumbled out of the room. He felt more annoyed when he reached the table, because no one else was there. Dwight showed up a few minutes later looking bleary-eyed, dark hair sticking up. Their father came next, having long since awakened and dressed. His work was demanding enough that he was usually out of the house before Nathaniel rose. When he was home…

  His father set a laptop on the corner of the table before he sat down. He gave both his sons a crinkle-eyed smile before he opened it and started clicking. Nathaniel considered him a moment longer, his attention briefly darting over to Dwight to compare them, since his father and brother looked like younger and older versions of each other. He could understand how his mother had found Heath so attractive when they met. The muscular build was slowly losing its firmness, but he was still handsome. Heath’s hair was brown rather than black, his eyes the same striking shade of blue, although they never appeared cruel. He didn’t possess the same demons that Dwight did. His only flaw was being a hopeless workaholic. Ironic, since providing treatment for addiction was his line of business. Maybe Heath needed to check into one of his own clinics.

  Nathaniel smirked at the idea, but his smile faded when he saw Dwight staring at him with open irritation. Feeling rebellious, Nathaniel glared and looked away. He felt a lot happier when his mother set a plate in front of him. Scrambled eggs, hash browns, and bacon. He reached for the bottle of ketchup and doused the food until his plate was mostly red. He glanced up to see his mother looking around the table with a bright smile, her dream coming true. Of course people on those old shows would never sit at the table while looking rumpled from bed, but she seemed happy enough.

  “Dig in,” Star said. Then she raised her eyebrows. “Heath!”

  His father blinked, then clicked a few more times before closing the laptop. “Looks delicious,” he said. He made a big show of inhaling through his nostrils directly over the plate. “Smells delicious!”

  “Judging from the human vacuum over there,” Star nodded toward Nathaniel, who already had his mouth stuffed, “it tastes good too.”

  He shrugged unapologetically, looking to the stove to see if there was more. The sound of utensils clinking against plates filled the room. After a few bites, Star set down her fork, still appearing pleased. “What’s everyone doing today? I thought maybe we could all go shopping or—”

  “I need to pop into the office,” his father said.

  “Work,” Nathaniel said when his mother looked at him.

  “I’m staying home to watch the game,” Dwight said.

  Star ignored him, still staring at Nathaniel. “What happened to your neck?”

  He stopped chewing, a wave of cold panic crashing over him. Over the last few days he’d been careful to wear tight-necked T-shirts that didn’t reveal the mark the barbell had left. Only light bruising remained, which had already faded to yellow. The worst was the broken blood vessels, all in a neat red line across his upper chest and in full view at the moment, since Nathaniel hadn’t put on a shirt. He glanced over at Dwight, seeing the same angry expression from before.

  “I keep telling him he needs a spotter,” his brother said.

  “You did this while working out?” Star asked.

  Nathaniel cleared his throat in an effort to make it feel less dry. “I pushed myself too hard.”

  Her mouth dropped open, one hand thunking the table. “You could have been seriously injured! Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Because I knew you would be upset!” Nathaniel shot back.

  “Of course I’m upset,” she replied. “You need to be careful!”

  “I’m always willing to spot for you, baby brother.” Dwight smiled at him. “You know that, right?”

  Nathaniel gritted his teeth. “Thanks, but I’m fine. The weight slipped and I caught it, but not before it bumped me. It won’t happen again.”

  “Heath,” Star said, looking to her husband.

  He glanced up. “Let your brother help you.”

  “I don’t need—”

  Heath raised an eyebrow. “It’s that, or you don’t work out at all.”

  Nathaniel clamped down on his anger. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll ask him for help next time. Or maybe you can help me, Mom. I’ve seen your yoga muscles.”

  Star appeared somewhat placated by this, but only just. “We should buy one of those resistance machines instead. You know, the kind that use elastic bands instead of weights? They must be safer.”

  Dwight snorted.

  Nathaniel nearly joined him. “What we’ve got is fine.”

  His mother looked him over. “How much bigger do you plan on getting? If you were trying out for the football team or something I would understand. Wait, is there some guy you’re trying to impress?”

  “No,” Nathaniel said with a nervous chuckle. “I don’t have time for stuff like that.” Then he realized that he should have said yes. His parents didn’t care that he was gay. His father had gay coworkers, and back in California, his mother had more than one gay friend. Even Dwight hadn’t cared when Nathaniel first came out, never needing a specific reason to hate him. So pretending he was steadily building muscles in the hope of winning some imaginary guy would have been the most sensible excuse. Now his efforts to beef up had surely raised suspicion, and it wasn’t his mother who concerned him.

  He focused on his food, refusing to look up from the plate. When he finally did, his fears were confirmed. Dwight was considering him with fresh malice. You want to challenge me? his expression seemed to say. You think you can be the bigger man?

  Nathaniel hid any reaction, making polite conversation with his parents and declining the offer of more food, even though he would have gladly eaten more. Maybe going without would be enough to quell Dwight’s suspicions. Probably not.

  Nathaniel was first to leave the table, heading down the hall to take a shower and listening for the easily-picked lock to pop, for the knob of the bathroom door to turn. Dwight had never attacked him there before, but he wasn’t exactly predictable. Once Nathaniel was dressed, he drove to the learning center. It wasn’t open yet, so he sat in his car and allowed himself to feel all the emotions that Dwight was so good at stirring up. Then he flipped an inner switch to silence the fear and anxiety. By the time he saw the manager unlocking the door, he felt normal again. At least as normal as he ever did. He watched the clock on the dashboard, waiting until he was due to begin work before he went inside.

  Working on Saturdays was always the least fun. Nathaniel might be glad to get away from home, but most of the learning center students hated having to do sch
ool work on the weekend. Saturdays tended to draw a different crowd, many coming in only on this day. This made effective tutoring more difficult, but Nathaniel was up for the challenge. He soon saw one familiar face. Caesar was quietly sitting at a computer, waiting to be noticed, still bashful even though they had worked together all week.

  Nathaniel went to join him, asking for a status update. “Geometry test,” he said.

  “Ninety-seven percent,” Caesar mumbled.

  Nathaniel nodded as he pulled up a chair and sat next to him. “Spanish quiz?”

  “I got an eighty-nine.”

  “Not bad considering I’ve never been good at foreign languages. My friend Rebecca, she’s practically fluent. You should work with her next time you have a language test coming up.”

  Caesar didn’t say anything. He seemed… uncomfortable? Then he turned, his chair creaking as he looked toward the front door. An older man who shared Caesar’s bronze skin tone stood there talking with the manager. His hair was graying at the temples, his mustache the color of cigarette ash, the polo shirt and slacks not quite casual enough for a Saturday morning. Nathaniel was instantly reminded of his own father. Both men had a middle-management sort of vibe. At the moment, the older man appeared none too pleased as he listened to what the manager had to say. Then both adults turned in their direction. Nathaniel quickly focused on the computer, catching Caesar’s eye along the way.

  “What’s that all about?”

  Caesar sighed. “I didn’t do so well on the biology test.”

  “You had that material down!” Nathaniel said, not hiding his surprise. “You aced the practice test!”

  “I got distracted.”

  Nathaniel glanced over at him. “How?”

  A shrug was the only response.

  Nathaniel made sure his tone was neutral. “I’m on your side here. I’m just trying to figure out what went wrong.”

  Caesar took a deep breath. “I had something on my mind. Something I couldn’t stop thinking about. I knew I was supposed to be focusing on the test, so I tried clearing my mind, but that made it worse somehow.”

  “Because you started thinking about not thinking about that thing you weren’t supposed to be thinking about.”

  Caesar’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Then he flashed a bashful smile. “Exactly.”

  Nathaniel nodded his understanding. “Look, next time that happens, just stop what you’re doing and allow yourself to think about whatever is distracting you. That will help get it out of your system.”

  “Does that work?”

  Nathaniel thought about all the times he’d sat in his car before work or school, thinking about Dwight, entertaining each fear so it became easier to push away. “Just remember that the worst rarely comes to pass. Whatever is most likely to happen, it’s got to be better than that. Right?”

  Caesar considered him, the eyes behind the red-framed glasses a curious golden hue. Then he turned to look toward the front door again. Nathaniel did the same. The older man was gone, but the manager was flustered. Nathaniel would probably hear about it later. Many parents blamed the tutors when their students’ grades weren’t high enough. Nathaniel didn’t let it get to him. All he could do was try his best. With that in mind, he helped Caesar get a head start on the coming week, then set him up with one of the computerized programs. Nathaniel moved on to his next pupil. And the next and the next, the hours melting away until it was time for his half-hour lunch break.

  He left the building, intending to walk down to the sandwich joint. He only made it a few yards before a car pulled up next to the sidewalk and parked. The black SUV reflected a distorted version of himself in the freshly polished surface. Then the passenger door opened and Caesar slid out wearing a miserable expression. From around the front of the car appeared the stern businessman who had exchanged tense words with the learning center’s manager. Except now he was smiling and extending a hand.

  “Todd Hubbard. Nice to meet you. I’m Caesar’s father.”

  “Nathaniel Courtney,” he replied, taking the hand and feeling uncertain as his arm was pumped up and down. “Mr. Hubbard, if this is about the biology test—”

  “It’s about all of Caesar’s grades, and please, call me Todd.”

  “Okay,” Nathaniel said, wondering if he was supposed to repeat the name. The eyes fixed on him were still shining, which was confusing. “What can I do for you?”

  “More of what you’ve been doing. Caesar’s grades started slipping over the previous year, but in the last two weeks, they’re on the uptick again.” Mr. Hubbard winked. “He says you’re to blame for this.”

  Nathaniel glanced at Caesar, who had his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slumped as he stared at the sidewalk. This had to be embarrassing. They were practically the same age and here was his father, talking to Nathaniel like he was a school teacher or something. “He’s been doing all the work. I’m just a study buddy. Human flash cards.”

  “There’s more to it than that.” Todd glanced toward the learning center and lowered his voice. “I was disappointed to learn that extra hours aren’t an option. I could understand if it was a scheduling issue, but apparently it’s company policy.”

  Ah. Now it made sense. Occasionally parents requested one-on-one tutoring, but for legal reasons, any learning had to be done in the center itself. “Not up to me,” Nathaniel said. “I’ll try to spend more time working with Caesar when he’s here.”

  Todd nodded. “From what I saw, there are more pupils than tutors. I imagine your time will always be divided. That must be frustrating.”

  “Dad,” Caesar said pleadingly.

  His father ignored him. “If you don’t mind me asking, how much do you earn an hour?”

  “Dad!” Caesar stared at him in disbelief. Then he groaned and rolled his eyes when Mr. Hubbard took a business card out of his pocket and handed it to Nathaniel.

  “I’m offering you a job. The same hours but more pay. Think about it and give me a call.”

  Nathaniel stared at the card before realizing he was expected to respond. He raised his head and nodded, figuring that was vague enough for now. Caesar shot him an apologetic expression, then nudged his father back toward the car. After the SUV had pulled away, Nathaniel looked down at the business card again and laughed. Wait until Rebecca heard about this!

  * * * * *

  “You’ve been head-hunted!”

  Nathaniel held back a smile. “Not exactly.”

  “By a talent scout!” Rebecca continued unabashed.

  “Not exactly.” Nathaniel plopped down on the bed next to her. He had paced excitedly while telling his story, chuckling on more than one occasion. Now he felt embarrassed by the whole thing. “It’s simply another parent who thinks he can pay for perfect grades.”

  “Just tell them no refunds,” Rebecca said, pulling up her legs and resting her head on her knees. “Money is money.”

  “You think I should do it?”

  “Normally I’d be selfish and say no, but of course Caesar changes everything.”

  Nathaniel furrowed his brow. “He does?”

  Rebecca mirrored his confusion. “You don’t think he’s cute?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I haven’t thought about it.”

  She scrutinized him before coming up with an explanation. “Maybe you need him to do a nerd girl twirl.”

  Nathaniel laughed. “A what?”

  “Nerd girl twirl. That’s what I call it anyway. You know how on TV shows or movies, they’ll have a nerdy girl nobody likes? Eventually she takes off her glasses and shakes out her hair, usually while twirling around dramatically. Then everyone sees she’s pretty, suddenly making her worthy of attention. It’s totally sexist.” Rebecca bit her lip. “Except if it was a guy instead of a girl, I’d be okay with it. Call me a hypocrite, I don’t care. Could you imagine Caesar with his hair down? Or ripping off his glasses, followed by his shirt?”

  She giggled shamelessly. Nathaniel smiled in
response, but felt distracted by the visual image. He hadn’t considered Caesar in that way before and couldn’t imagine what sort of body he would have. Nor could he imagine someone so shy and reserved being comfortable with nudity.

  “So you think I should take the job?”

  Rebecca tilted her head back and forth as she considered the question. “I like that we work together, but it’s not like we have much time to interact while there. So… maybe?”

  “Maybe it is,” Nathaniel said. “I’m sick of thinking about it. Movie time?”

  “Definitely.”

  Rebecca got up to put a DVD in the player, Nathaniel rising to help her pick one. Then they settled back on the bed, their arms and legs pressed against each other. Not long into the film, Rebecca took his hand, which he was fine with. They might both be perpetually single, but at least they had each other. The physical closeness gave him comfort, as did the environment. Rebecca’s room was smaller than his own, the walls covered in posters of her favorite eighties bands and movies. The bedspread was pink and Strawberry Shortcake-themed. One of their thrift store finds. He often teased her for being nostalgic about a decade she may have been born in, but definitely didn’t remember. He liked her passion anyway, and how she decorated the room. He felt safe here. Able to relax. No creepy older brother. Just Rebecca’s parents and little sister, none of whom ever disturbed them.

  “You’re going to love this one,” Rebecca said. “Wait till you see how many baby-faced celebrities are in it. Talk about humble beginnings.”

  He turned his attention to the screen and soon felt less relaxed. The film quality appeared more seventies than eighties, a low-budget high school movie. Young actors gave stiff performances, many of them big names who now probably hoped this film would remain forgotten. He pretended to laugh along with Rebecca at certain points, but the subject matter made him uncomfortable. A geeky guy got bullied until the day he enlisted the help of a gentle giant. His own personal hero. The fantasy was nice, but the lofty tone of the movie only made his own life seem that much darker.

  His palms were sweaty by the time the credits rolled. Rebecca released his hand so she could wipe her own on the bedspread. “Movie get you all hot and bothered? Who do you like better, Clifford or Linderman?”