Then there were the drama class kids performing small scenes and skits. The most notable of these was two guys dressed as Mario and Luigi who squatted repeatedly while making farting noises to the video game theme song, taking breaks only to hit each other with large inflatable mallets. This was particularly popular with everyone.
Finally it was their turn. As Ebony and Ivory set up their instruments on stage, Ben’s bravery returned. No matter what the school thought of him and what he was about to sing, he was among friends. Allison, of course, but Ronnie too, who had been so sympathetic with his song writing. Leon had always been a comforting presence to Ben, and even the drummer was someone he knew. Craig smiled at Ben and showed off by twirling a drumstick.
Ben turned back to the audience, to a room full of strangers, but he felt strong. Ronnie struck the first chord and the song began. The instruments were loud enough to drown out the audience’s voices. Every single person in the room was forced to listen. Just before their first line, Ben saw him. Five rows back and surrounded by his false friends was Tim Wyman. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect as Ben and Allison sang.
“I spotted you, cresting wave upon a distant sea,
a moon of perfect splendor set high above the trees.”
Tim’s eyes grew wide, as if Ben were about to single him out, but Ben and Allison began to dance around each other to enact the next line and Tim was lost to his sight.
“Hopeless I pursued, hungry shadow chasing light,
You ran, I stumbled, until somehow we took flight.”
Ben and Allison turned to face each other, and he could see that she had spotted Tim as well. Her eyes asked Ben if he was okay and he nodded before they sang the next verse.
“So proud to be near you, I found warmth beneath your wing,
But you only covered me so they couldn’t see a thing.”
Allison and Ben retreated to the back of the stage as Ronnie and Leon stepped forward, tearing up the stage with the instrumental bridge. They had most of the audience’s attention, the music too loud for their conversations to continue. Ben scanned the crowd until he found Tim again.
“Sing the rest of it to him,” Allison shouted in his ear.
Why not? As they returned to the front of the stage, Ben opened the floodgates.
“All those traits I dreamed were you, I found inside of me,
The bravery and beauty, that you’re too blind to see.”
Tim shifted under Ben’s gaze, and for a moment it looked as though he was going to turn away, but he couldn’t. Maybe he didn’t want to appear obvious or maybe he simply had to hear what Ben had to say. Either way, he couldn’t leave.
“The wave I once knew has crashed, wet thunder come undone,
The hollow light of your moon, glitter stolen from the sun.”
Ben felt Allison’s hand on his shoulder, and he understood. The last verse was his. She was letting him sing it alone. In that moment, Ben was convinced that he and Tim were alone, that they were the last two souls in the world. And Ben still loved him, but more than that, he was hurt and angry.
“There’s a coward and a fool, and both of them are you,
My heart is cracked and broken, but yours is frozen through.”
As the song ended, judgment was cast simultaneously in thousands of minds. Some applauded while others were just glad to be able to socialize again, but there was enough clapping that Allison rushed back to Ben’s side, took his hand and raised it. Tim was momentarily forgotten as they bowed together and made their exit.
Ben didn’t look back. He was through chasing someone who lived a lie. Off to the side of the stage, a group of teachers took notes, acting as judges. Ms. Hughes was one of them, and when her eyes met Ben’s, there was understanding there. Love isn’t meant to be hidden away. Life is too short for shame.
* * * * *
They took second place in the talent show. First place was stolen away by the cheerleaders. The male students made sure they got the audience vote, and most of the teachers bought into the school spirit. Both Ben and Allison were happy they had at least beaten the Super Fartio Brothers. They graciously accepted their $50 gift certificates to a local mall and used them that weekend to buy summer clothes.
Prom followed a week later. Allison went with Ronnie, and Ben wasn’t the least surprised when she told him that Tim was there with Krista Norman. He tried not to let it get to him. After all, he’d had his own date that night. While he didn’t go to the actual prom, he and Evan from work had gone out to dinner. It wasn’t until Evan dropped him off at home and clumsily kissed Ben that it officially became a date.
Ben had mixed feelings about this. Evan was attractive and fun to be around, even though he was a little on the feminine side. Had Ben met him a year ago, he probably would have pursued him with enthusiasm. Now he found his thoughts kept turning to Tim every time he and Evan were together. When they held hands at the movies on their second date, Ben couldn’t help but compare the feeling of Evan’s hand to Tim’s.
He questioned too the wisdom of his choice. Evan was still in the closet, at school and to his parents at least. The only difference was that he accepted who he was. This still wasn’t enough for Ben, but as the school year ended, the summer days seemed twice as empty without Tim and Ben found himself seeing Evan outside of work more often.
In the middle of June, they slept together for the first time, a stark contrast to what Ben had known with Tim. Evan was passive and inexperienced. This wasn’t too much of a problem, but the absence of emotion left Ben feeling he was only going through the motions. Sex still felt good, but without love it was little more than assisted masturbation. He broke up with Evan the next day. Evan took it well, saying that he knew he was just a rebound. Ben couldn’t have disagreed more. He hadn’t rebounded from anything. In fact, he now felt he would never get over Tim.
Ben quit his job at Zounders the next week and left without saying goodbye to Evan. A few weeks later he found a new job at a little frozen yogurt store in the same strip mall. The tediously simple work left him free to think, for better or worse. On the good days Allison came to keep him company. The worst days were when it rained and demand for a cool treat was minimal. On these days Ben would often leave work, closing up the shop hours earlier than he was supposed to.
On one such day the rain ceased just as he was locking the door. He decided to leave anyway and to walk home along the winding bike paths. He enjoyed catching glimpses into various backyards, imagining the lives that ran their courses inside the homes and creating different family histories in his mind. He was in the midst of one such daydream when he was rudely awakened by a familiar voice.
“Well, well. If it isn’t the village faggot!”
Ben looked up at the approaching figure of Bryce Hunter. He was flanked by two others. One was a spiky-haired guy Ben had never seen before. His heart sank when he saw the other was Tim.
“What are you doing out here?” Bryce taunted, blocking his way as Ben tried to pass. “Looking for some cock to suck?”
“You’ll have to pull your skanky girlfriend off of the football team if you want that,” Ben retorted. “I’m definitely not interested.”
Bryce grabbed Ben by the embarrassing green polo shirt that he was required to wear to work. “What did you say?” He yanked Ben closer with an audible tearing noise.
“Leave him alone,” Tim said, pushing past the other guy.
“He called my girlfriend a slut!” Bryce said, not taking his attention off his victim.
“Technically I said she was skanky,” Ben corrected, angry at being exposed to such an ignorant primate when he wasn’t in school. “She’s also a brain-dead snob, but I guess that’s your common bond, isn’t it?”
Bryce released Ben and cocked his arm back, the fat slab of his fist ready to make contact with Ben’s face. Before it could, Tim was between them, pushing Bryce away and restraining him.
“What the fuck?” Bryce demanded.
<
br /> “Forget him,” Tim said. “Let’s just go.”
Tim was strong, but Bryce was built like an ox. He had no trouble in pushing Tim away, his fury at being denied making him twice as dangerous. His fist cracked across Ben’s face, sending him tumbling to the ground like a rag doll.
Lights flashed before Ben’s eyes as he reeled from the blow and tried to escape any that followed. He managed to prop himself up on his elbows before dizziness caused him to slump back down. He took a couple of deep breaths, surprised that he wasn’t being kicked while he was down, and managed to roll over and push up onto his knees.
The sound of a struggle erupted behind him. He glanced backward, and saw Tim and Bryce punching each other. Tim’s nose was dripping blood, but he was holding up well against the mammoth he was facing. He took a couple of punches to his right eye before felling Bryce with a swinging blow to the temple. As the giant groaned and hit the ground, Tim pounced on him like a tiger.
“Get off my cousin!” yelled the spiky-haired guy as he headed meaningfully for Tim. Tim wouldn’t see it coming though, not with his back to the oncoming aggressor.
Ben’s mind focused. He was on his feet within seconds and running toward Bryce’s cousin. Ben ploughed into his side, making the cousin trip, but he recovered and with surprising speed turned to elbow Ben in the face, knocking him down again.
Ben wasn’t as dazed this time. He looked up to find a crotch directly in front of him and punched it with his fist, managing to land two hits before the other guy stumbled backwards. Ben capitalized on his temporary advantage, punching, kicking, screaming, all in a wild violent blur until his adrenaline receded like the tide, and he found himself and Tim standing over two groaning, balled-up forms.
“Run,” Tim said when it became clear that Bryce intended to get up again.
They took off down the path, heading instinctively toward their homes. As they neared, Ben was surprised that Tim led them not to his own house, but to the Bentley’s. They stood in the driveway, panting to catch their breath between bursts of laughter. Both of them looked terrible, faces covered in blood with swollen red blotches that promised of bruises to come.
“Thanks,” Ben gasped when he could talk again.
“You and your big mouth,” Tim said with a grin, shaking his head.
For the briefest moment, everything was good again, as if nothing had ever gone wrong between them. “Do you want to come inside?” Ben asked.
Tim started to nod, his eyes smiling in acquiesce before something clicked. His face became somber, eyes distant. “Goodbye, Benjamin.”
As Ben watched him leave, he knew there was no longer any point in trying to stop him.
* * * * *
There remained one possibility, one iota of hope in the form of a key. The idea kept Ben awake at night, tormenting him with promises he knew were impossible, but still it whispered to him, urging him to try. Where words fail, only action can succeed.
One humid July night, Ben decided that he’d had enough. He had been staring at the red led light of the clock, unable to sleep. Tired of temptation, he threw off the sheets, grabbing the key after he had dressed. Once outside, he walked the familiar path he had followed so many nights before. He could have walked it with his eyes closed.
He tried to brush aside the fear welling up inside him as he used the key. Two months had passed. Would it still work? Was there an alarm system now? The small click only worsened his feelings of anxiety. It might have been better if the key hadn’t worked. Now there was so much more to face.
Moonlight poured through the window in Tim’s room, allowing him to see that little had changed. He ignored the shape in bed and walked instead to the window. Ben looked up at the moon and said a silent prayer to it that he might be strong enough, before staring down at the empty backyard where everything had fallen apart. Ben listened to the sound of Tim’s breathing until he could resist no longer and went to him, sitting on the corner of his bed.
He studied the curve of Tim’s shoulder, following the line down to a tan arm pressed tight against the white sheet. Ben’s heart ached. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch his skin, to slip underneath the sheets and wrap his arms around him. Together they would lay for all eternity, the world crumbling to dust around them, so that nothing could ever stand in their way again.
Ben stood and Tim stirred in his sleep, rolling over onto his back. His face was hidden in shadow, but Ben could see enough to make him want to weep. He was so handsome, so beautiful. Inside and out. Ben leaned forward, bringing his lips as close to Tim’s as possible without actually kissing him.
Then Ben pulled away. As he left he hung the key that Tim had given him on the doorknob. He glanced one final time at the bed as he closed the door, and saw light reflecting off Tim’s open eyes. Ben didn’t hesitate or stall. The moon had granted his request. He was strong as he shut the door and walked out into the dark, lonely night.
Part Two:
Chicago, 1999
Chapter Sixteen
Snow. Freezing, eye-stinging, finger-numbing snow. Had he ever really wished for such weather in Texas? The bottom five inches of Ben’s jeans were soaking wet as he tromped through the damnable substance. TV had given him a false impression of snow. Sure, it was beautiful when it first started falling, the blanketed mounds inspiring warm Christmassy thoughts, but that was just the beginning. The honeymoon stage. It didn’t take long for Chicago’s infamous traffic to turn it all into ugly gray slush.
A warm glow from a coffee shop window beckoned, promising warmth and dryness. Ben had never developed a taste for coffee, but surely there would be something else in there he could drink. One of those weird Italian sodas where you could choose the flavor, or maybe a hot cocoa. He paused on the sidewalk a moment before forcing himself onward to his apartment. He had a date with Mason.
Of course it was Mason’s fault that he was running late. Last-minute Christmas shopping on a shoestring budget had taken most of the day. To even worry about being tardy was silly. Mason suffered from chronically late syndrome, always an hour late if not more. That was the inspiration for buying the pocket watch. This scheme had failed Ben’s mother three years ago, but he had found the idea charming. The watch was sterling silver, suited his own tastes, and hadn’t been engraved. Even with Christmas just around the corner, Ben knew there was a fair chance that he and Mason would no longer be an item.
In the twenty days they had been together, Mason had burned through three different jobs. When Ben had first met him, Mason had been the punky bartender at Mertyl’s, an out-of-the-way lesbian bar. Ben had instantly fallen for his bad boy appeal. The colored hair, piercings, and poorly realized tattoos were in complete contrast to the preppy pretty boys or delicate artistic types on campus. Most students had at least one of these rebellious elements, but there was something genuinely trashy about Mason.
The job at the bar ended abruptly among rumors of money missing from the register. Next there was the construction job at an outlet mall, something Mason’s ripcord muscles might be suited to, but this only lasted two days. Ben was never sure what had happened, although he suspected a marathon drug binge had gotten in the way. Mason was currently working retail at a music store. At least he had been a few days ago when Ben had seen him last.
With a prayer of gratitude to any god listening, Ben hurried into the minimal amount of warmth his apartment building afforded. Apartment was a laughable term, as the tiny living areas barely qualified as dorms and the slumlord owner knew it. Except for a few senior citizens and eccentrics, all ten stories of the building were inhabited by students who didn’t want to live on campus. The concept had sounded so grown up to Ben at the time, but the reality was far from glamorous.
Ben bit the tips of his gloved fingers and pulled his hand free. He struggled with numb digits to find the keys and unlock the door to his apartment. The smell of cigarette smoke greeted him as he entered. Mason was here. Ben called out, puzzling over the
darkness of the apartment. Was Mason sleeping?
Ben entered the living room that was barely big enough for a couch and flipped on a light. After a two-second delay, the light came on, revealing a blank spot in the corner. After a moment Ben realized that the twenty-two inch TV was missing. Fear tiptoed up his spine. He had been robbed! That wasn’t the frightening thought. The idea that the robber might still be lurking in the apartment was.
Ben went next to the closet-sized kitchen to fetch the biggest, and only, cutting knife he owned. Wielding it like a thief detector, he made a sweep of the rooms. Considering the apartment’s size, this didn’t take long. Whoever had been there was gone, but had taken Ben’s TV and boombox. The six-pack of beer that Ben had begged a friend to buy earlier in the day was also missing from the fridge.
Ben didn’t need to play Sherlock Holmes and examine the sole cigarette butt in the ashtray, but he did anyway. The familiar generic brand underlined Mason’s name in triplicate, which was overkill since it was already highlighted and accompanied by a row of exclamation points.
Oh, well, Ben mused, one less present to wrap.
He threw himself on the couch, too despondent to take off his winter jacket. The worst part was yet to come. Ben could deal with the loss of his crappy TV or the beat-up old boombox, but being single for the holidays would leave him free to entertain old ghosts that he would rather forget. Still, there were a few days left. Maybe that was enough time to fall in love with someone new.
Ben finally looked to the blinking red light that had been clamoring for his attention. At least Mason hadn’t stolen the answering machine. Hell, maybe he called to leave a drunken apology. Ben wouldn’t put it past him. He rose and jabbed at the machine, which beeped in protest before playing its message.
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