If You Really Love Me

by Gene Gant

  It’s Auntie Jeanne. “Good morning, Ellis.”

  “Hi, Auntie Jeanne. Mom’s not here.”

  “I know. She asked me to give you this.” Standing in the doorway, she pulls a roll of cash from the pocket of her jeans and hands it to me. “That’s money for the rent. She wants you to take it down to the leasing office on Monday. And she asked me to tell you to be sure to get a receipt.”

  I take the cash. “Okay. I will.”

  Auntie Jeanne starts to turn and go, but then she stops and just looks at me.

  “What?” I ask, wondering if I’ve got wet cereal or something in my hair.

  She steps inside and closes the door. “Sit down,” she orders, and I can see how serious she is suddenly.

  I start feeling a little scared as we get settled on the sofa. “Is something wrong?”

  “Ellis, do you have any idea what you’re doing to your mother?”

  I’m confused. “What do you mean?”

  “She wants Breeze in her life. She wants you in her life. You make it very hard for her to have both. She still doesn’t feel she can bring Breeze around you because she doesn’t want to cause any more friction between you.”

  “But I’m not avoiding Breeze anymore. I’m nice to her whenever Mom brings her around.”

  “But Alicia can see that you don’t like her being involved with Breeze. I can see it. They have been together for months now. Why are you still having such a problem with this?”

  “It’s not right what Mom’s doing.”

  Auntie Jeanne’s glasses have slipped down on her nose. She pushes them up again with her finger. “Why do you think it isn’t right? Why is it right for you to be with Saul but wrong for your mom to be with Breeze?”

  “There’s a difference, Auntie Jeanne. I’m gay and Saul is gay. Breeze may be gay, but Mom isn’t. I don’t know why Mom is doing this, but sooner or later, she’s going to hook up with a guy again, and Breeze is going to get hurt. And that’s not right.”

  Auntie Jeanne goes quiet for a few moments. “Ellis, you don’t understand.”

  “I understand, all right. I understand that Mom has always liked guys. She’s never been into women. She’s using Breeze, just like some of the guys she dated used her. What I don’t understand is how she can treat another person that way—”

  She puts a finger to my lips, cutting me off. “This is not the first time your mom’s been with a woman.”

  I can feel my eyes go round.

  Auntie Jeanne pushes at her glasses again, suddenly looking uneasy. “I suppose this would be better coming from her, but obviously she’s never told you and you need to know. Your mom and I were in a relationship for seven years.”

  It’s like she hit me in the head. I actually feel dizzy, like everything in my head is spinning.

  She goes on without hesitation. “It started while she was pregnant with you, not long after her parents kicked her out and your dad disappeared. We knew each other from high school. We were special to each other even then, but gay people couldn’t be as open with each other in those days as they are now. Alicia and I both dated guys in high school, trying to figure out where we fit in, you might say. I got pregnant with Cary, but my parents didn’t kick me out, and they even let me bring Alicia in. That’s when our friendship became something more. After we had our babies, we got jobs and got an apartment together.”

  I remember Cary and Auntie Jeanne always being there, like family. I remember Auntie Jeanne and Mom being close, like sisters (or so I thought). But there was never anything else. I don’t remember anything else between them.

  “You were so young then,” Auntie Jeanne goes on, as if she knows what I’m thinking. “You wouldn’t have understood what was going on between us. But Alicia and I saw each other through some very difficult times. We were stronger together as a couple than we would have been as just friends.”

  “Does Cary know?”

  “Yes. He figured it out. He remembered how close your mom and I were when we all lived together. A couple of years ago, he found some old Valentine’s Day cards your mom gave me, he read them, and he had lots of questions. I told him everything.”

  Suddenly I’m angry, but I’m not sure exactly who I’m angry with. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

  “I told him not to. I thought your mother should be the one to tell you.”

  For a moment, I don’t say anything. Seven years. That’s the longest time Mom has been in a relationship with anyone. The only other relationship she’d had with any longevity was this one guy she dated for almost a year and a half. So she must have had something really good going with Auntie Jeanne. But I remember the day, when I was in second grade, that Auntie Jeanne and Cary moved out and took the apartment downstairs. I remember when Mom and Auntie Jeanne started becoming less like sisters and more like friends. “Mom left you, didn’t she?”

  “No, Ellis. I left her. I’m not going into why I did that, but it wasn’t because of anything your mom did.”

  “So, all those guys she dated… her being with my dad… all of that was a lie? She was using them?”

  “Stop being so judgmental, Ellis. Alicia didn’t use anybody. Neither did I. Your mom never dated anyone for any reason other than she wanted to. She’s attracted to guys, but I think her attraction to women goes a lot deeper.” She combs the hair back from my forehead with her fingers and then pats the side of my face. She smiles. “Your mom’s not with Breeze because she’s using her. The only reason she’s with Breeze is because she wants to be. And there’s no guarantee with any relationship. Sometimes they work out, and sometimes they don’t. That’s just the way life is.”

  Auntie Jeanne stands up. “You need to find a way to accept that, before it’s too late.” Without giving me time to say anything else, Auntie Jeanne is gone.

  “YOU’RE AWFULLY quiet.”

  The sound of Saul’s voice draws me back. We’re in his car, heading for the Rock Haven. “Sorry,” I mumble. “I didn’t mean to check out on you.”

  He gives me that little scared look of his. “Something wrong?”

  I could tell him how weirded out I am over learning that Mom and Auntie Jeanne were lovers at one time. But I’m still trying to make sense of all that and how I was never told anything about it before now, so I don’t say anything to him about that. What I do say is, “I’m just thinking about stuff.”

  “What stuff?”

  “Just… stuff.”

  “Well, what kind of stuff? I mean, give me a hint. School stuff? You and me stuff?”

  “It’s just stuff, Saul. I have to get it sorted out in my head before I can talk about it. But once I do, I’ll tell you. I promise.”

  He taps his index finger on the steering wheel three times.

  “Please stop that,” I say.

  “Ellis….” He bites his lip. I can see how badly he wants to tap his finger again. His whole arm is shaking. “Is everything okay with us?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why can’t you tell me what you’re thinking?”

  “I’m just not ready to talk about it. Okay?”

  His finger starts to tap.

  “Saul, you’re doing it again.”

  “Sorry.”

  His whole mood has hit rock bottom. And I don’t know what to say except “I love you.”

  “Yeah.” But there is doubt all over his face.

  He drives for a while without saying anything or looking at me. His whole body is rigid and trembling a little. I can see it.

  “How many times have you worked out today?”

  “Twice,” he replies. “I’m gonna get in a third one tonight after I drop you off.”

  “Can you skip it?”

  “Why?”

  “I want you to.”

  He swallows hard. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Working out makes everything better. It helps me keep things together.”

  “What are you trying to make better?”r />
  He hesitates. “I can’t talk about that.”

  “Okay, but I don’t think all those workouts are good for you. I want you to skip the workout tonight. Skip it for me, because I asked you to.”

  We are stopped at a red light. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. His finger starts to tap. I reach up and put my hand over his just long enough to stop the tapping. The light changes. “I have to get some gas,” he announces, loudly and out of the blue.

  He drives half a block down the street and steers the car into the lot of a gas station. He stops the car at a pump, gets out, and hurries into the station’s convenience store to pay for the gas. I figure he needs time to think about my request before he gives an answer. I don’t want to press him, but I hope I can get him to gradually ease off on the workouts.

  I’m trying not to weaken. I like the Saul who’s all smiles and upbeat and doesn’t give a shit what anybody else thinks of him. It hurts to see him down and worried and insecure, which is how he gets when he can’t do his workouts and his tapping. I can feel myself wanting to give in and tell him to go ahead and do that third workout. I want him to be happy, but I also want him to be healthy. He works out so often, and so hard, that it dehydrates him, makes him dizzy and pale. What if he passes out or has a heart attack or stroke or something?

  No, I can’t give up on this. I can’t force him to stay away from the Y this evening, but I can let him know how important it is to me that he not hurt himself.

  It’s taking an awfully long time for him to pay for gas. I should go see what’s holding things up. Just as I take the key from the ignition, I spot Saul walking out of the store. A man in some kind of gray uniform comes hurrying out of the store a few seconds later. He calls “Hey! Stop!” in a loud voice, and then, incredibly, he rushes around and gets right in front of Saul.

  There’s got to be some kind of mistake.

  I get out of the car now as that thought floats reassuringly through my head. Saul and the guy in gray are exchanging words, but their voices aren’t loud enough for me to hear what they’re saying. Although the uniformed guy’s back is to me, I can tell he’s mad because of the way he’s snapping his head back and forth. Saul doesn’t look upset or scared or anything. He just keeps walking straight ahead, forcing the guy to back up.

  I start walking fast toward Saul, just as the uniformed guy grabs him by the shoulder. Now I’m close enough to hear Saul say very calmly, “I have to go.”

  “You’re not going anywhere until you empty your pockets,” the guy in gray snaps. There are dark patches on the shoulders of the uniform that read “Echols Security.”

  The security guy is almost as tall as Saul, but Saul is way bigger. He grabs the security guy’s hand, peels it off his shoulder, and shoves the guy down on his butt like he’s pushing over a toddler. Saul does all this calmly. He walks around the guy, heading toward me.

  The security guy is yelling and waving as he gets back to his feet. He comes after Saul. At the same time, another guy rushes out of the store, a heavyset guy in jeans and a red vest with the gas station’s logo on it. The security guy and the heavyset guy grab Saul and wrestle him to a stop.

  “Get off him!” I shout. I’m running at them, scared and angry.

  “Stay back!” the security guard shouts at me. Even as he struggles to hold on to Saul, he manages to get some kind of nightstick in his hand and raise it at me.

  “No, Ellis!” Saul shouts. “Go back to the car. Please. It’s okay.”

  I stop, watching helplessly. When Saul sees this, he doesn’t resist anymore. He lets the two guys turn him around and hustle him back into the store.

  Saul is in trouble. My throat feels like it’s closing up, and I get that panicky feeling that there’s not enough oxygen in the air to breathe. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who can help him. Then it hits me. I pull out my cell phone. The only people who ever called me are Saul, Mom, Cary, and Auntie Jeanne. Saul usually calls from his cell phone, but maybe he sometimes called me from his home phone. I scroll through the record of received calls. There it is. A number with the name Benjamin Brooks.

  I press the button that speed-dials the number.

  Chapter Sixteen

  SAUL HAS been giving me little driving lessons here and there, enough that I can drive the car away from the pump and into a parking space next to the store. I notice the gauge on the dashboard says the gas tank is about three-quarters full. Something like an hour passes with me sitting in the car, worried and waiting. Cary calls but I’m too worked up to talk.

  Finally, a black sedan pulls in to the next space. I recognize the sedan from the parking garage at Saul’s place. There is a woman behind the wheel. She’s pretty, maybe ten years or so older than my mom, slender with short, dark hair. She looks over at me with troubled eyes and gives me a small wave. I wave back.

  The front passenger door of the sedan opens, and Mr. Brooks climbs out. He hurries around to the driver’s side of Saul’s car and slides behind the wheel. Before he can say anything, I start babbling.

  “I’m so glad you’re here. A police car came up about thirty minutes ago. A cop went into the store and came out with Saul in handcuffs and took him away. Saul’s been arrested.”

  “I know, Ellis,” Mr. Brooks replies. “I made some calls. He’s been taken to the downtown police precinct. My wife is going to post his bail. I’ll take you home before I go down there.”

  “Can I come with you? Please.”

  He thinks about it for a second. “I believe Saul would like to have you there.”

  He starts the engine. When I look around, the sedan is gone. Mrs. Brooks—I assume she is the woman behind the wheel—must already be on her way to the police station.

  “Mr. Brooks, do you know why Saul was arrested?”

  “He’s being charged with theft of property under five hundred dollars and assault.” Mr. Brooks drives out of the gas station’s lot and turns right, heading downtown.

  “Who’d he assault?”

  “A security guard.”

  “That wasn’t assault,” I protest. “He just pushed the guy down.”

  “Tell me what you saw.”

  “The guy followed Saul out of the store and grabbed him by the shoulder. Saul didn’t hit him or anything. He just pulled the guy’s hand off his shoulder and pushed the guy over. That’s all he did. Then another guy came out, and they grabbed Saul, and he went back into the store with them.”

  “Pushing that guard is probably enough for the prosecutor to make an argument for assault. Our lawyer will probably want to talk with you. Do you think you can do that?”

  “Yes, sir.” I hate the idea of court and lawyers, but I’ll do anything to help Saul. “Is Saul gonna get sent to jail?”

  “I’m not going to speculate about what may come down the line. For now, my focus is on bailing him out and getting him home.” He gives me a quick look before turning his eyes back to the road ahead. “Saul talks to me more since the two of you started dating. He seems to like talking about you. He told me you’ve been trying to help him stop his compulsive behavior. Thank you for that.”

  “Why does he do it? What made him this way?”

  “I’m not sure of the answer to that one. I do know the compulsions accelerated after that whole debacle with his first boyfriend.”

  First? “Saul had a boyfriend before me?”

  Mr. Brooks shoots another glance my way. “I thought he would have told you about that. Wayne Haywood. That was the guy’s name. Saul was only fourteen when they met. Wayne was sixteen. They were both attending Beckings Academy then. My wife and I tried to discourage the relationship because Saul was so young. We imposed curfews and refused to let him go anywhere with Wayne. They still found ways to be together. It lasted for three months. Then Wayne got involved with another guy and broke things off with Saul. I’ve never seen Saul so devastated.”

  “Was he really that much in love with the guy?”

  “He certain
ly believed he was. That’s when he started the bodybuilding. Within a year, it escalated into an obsession. He felt so inadequate.”

  “Inadequate?”

  “Yes. Saul was a wiry little guy when he met Wayne. The guy Wayne left Saul for was taller and muscular.”

  “So he figured Wayne left him because he wasn’t good enough.”

  Mr. Brooks shrugged. “That was part of it, yes, but there were other things as well. Saul’s older brother, Levi, was something of a star athlete at Beckings. He picked up several trophies in swimming and basketball. He’d graduated by the time Saul became a freshman, but the coaches and many of the older students were still singing Levi’s praises. Saul loves sports, especially baseball, but he’s never developed the skill that his brother had. He always felt overshadowed.”

  “But he’s not small anymore. He’s bigger than just about any guy at school.”

  “Not in his mind, I suppose. He blamed his mother and me for the breakup with Wayne because of the restrictions we placed on him. He’s been fighting us on everything since then. He let his grades fall, got himself kicked out of Beckings for insubordination. Frankly, this arrest comes as no surprise. He’s been building toward this for months now. Maybe it will be the kick he needs to acknowledge he has a problem and start getting treatment.”

  BY THE time Mr. Brooks and I reach the downtown police precinct, Mrs. Brooks has finished making arrangements to pay Saul’s bail. She shakes my hand when Mr. Brooks introduces us and forces a smile, but I can see how upset she is in the way her lips tremble.

  It takes nearly two hours for the cops to finish all their processing and to finally bring Saul to the lobby where we’re waiting. He doesn’t look at any of us. He stops and lets each of his parents hug him in turn. Then he hugs me.

  “I’m sorry,” he says to all three of us. Regret seems to weigh down his eyes, dragging his gaze to the floor and keeping it there.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Mrs. Brooks says, looking jumpy now as if she expects the walls of the building to wrap around us at any second and seal us all in.