Saints of Augustine

by P. E. Ryan

  “So you told Teddy? You know how he feels about stuff like that. He makes it really obvious.”

  “Well, that’s his mistake, shooting his mouth off like that. And it was my mistake to let him do it. If I’d known—about you, I mean—I would have made him stop a long time ago. I owe you an apology for that.”

  Sam was caught off guard. He certainly didn’t expect his mother to be apologizing to him for anything. “O-okay.”

  “So there’s Teddy’s mistake, my mistake, and yours. But we all make mistakes, and I know that. What matters is what you do when you find out you’ve made a mistake. Teddy should have found out quick, when I told him. It’s called rising to the occasion. But, well, Teddy didn’t do that.”

  “What did he say?”

  “I’m not going to tell you. He said some stupid things and he wouldn’t take them back. So he left pretty early this morning.”

  “You kicked him out?” Sam asked, trying to suppress the hint of happiness in his voice.

  “I asked him to leave. He’ll probably call here in a few days, and if he does and you pick up, don’t get into anything with him. And don’t start anything, either. Just call me to the phone, all right?”

  “All right. Are you still going to see him?”

  “I don’t think so. But that’s not your fault. Listen, you’re sure about this thing? Being gay, I mean. Because life is hard enough without choosing to make it harder, Sam. There are things you’re going to have to be ready for if—”

  “I know what you’re talking about.”

  “Maybe you don’t. You’re barely seventeen years old; you don’t know everything yet. But what I’m trying to say is, you don’t have to decide…what you are…right now.”

  “I didn’t decide it, Mom. I didn’t choose it. I think it’s just who I am.”

  “All right, then.” She brought the heels of both hands up and rubbed them into her eyes. “If I don’t get some sleep soon, I’m going to snap,” she said. When she brought her hands down, Sam saw that she was crying.

  He was scared. He felt like he’d caused all of this, like he was doing nothing but more harm just by sitting here at the table. “Don’t cry, Mom. It’s okay.”

  “I know that. This is just going to take some getting used to. There’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t speed things up, so you’re going to have to be patient with me. In fact, you’re going to have to work with me on this.”

  “I will,” Sam said.

  “I don’t want you hiding some huge part of yourself from me. If you start doing it now, it’ll just get easier and you’ll never stop. We’ll be strangers by the time you’re twenty. I don’t want that to happen. Understand?”

  “Yeah,” Sam said.

  “Good. Now go get some sleep.”

  “I’m sorry I worried you.” He started to get up from the table. Then he hesitated. “I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you, too.” She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her robe.

  “I might be going over to Charlie’s later this afternoon.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  Sam stopped in the doorway. “Why not? I told you, he and I have kind of patched things up.”

  “And I’m glad. But you’re grounded,” she said. “For staying out all night. Did you think that was a freebie?”

  “No, but—grounded for how long?”

  She shrugged. “A week.”

  “Come on, Mom, I said I was sorry.”

  “You’re sorry and I’m sorry. I’m still the parent here. A week. I’ll grant you phone privileges, how’s that? You can call Charlie, and Melissa—and whoever else you might want to call.”

  Did she mean Justin?

  “All right.” Sam groaned. But he didn’t feel so bad. A little bewildered, maybe. Exhausted, definitely. But not so bad. He turned and walked back to his room.

  He slept until after four in the afternoon. Not long after he got up, he heard a low thumping on his bedroom door, as if someone were gently kicking it from the other side.

  “Come in.”

  “I don’t have any hands.”

  He got up and opened the door, and Hannah stepped into the room carrying a tray with a sandwich and a glass of milk. “I made you this. You have to eat lunch before it’s dinnertime,” she said.

  “Hey, thanks.”

  She set the plate and the glass down on his nightstand. “Did you notice I knocked?”

  “You kicked.”

  “Better than just opening the door.”

  “You’re right. Thanks for that, too.” He took a bite from the sandwich.

  “Mom says you’re grounded.”

  “Good news travels fast. Why’d she tell you that?”

  “Because I asked her if she’d take us to the movies, and she said you couldn’t go. What are you grounded for?”

  “I stayed out too late last night. Really late. And Mom stayed up wondering where I was. So she’s awake now?”

  “Yeah, but she took a humongous nap this afternoon. How’s the sandwich?”

  “Great,” he said around a mouthful of bologna.

  “I didn’t want you to starve in here.”

  “I’m not grounded to my room. I can walk around the house if I want to.”

  “Oh. Can I wear your jean jacket?” She was staring into the open mess of his closet.

  “Sure,” he said.

  It was like he’d given her a ten-dollar bill in a candy shop. “Thanks!” She yanked the jacket off its hook and darted out of the room.

  Sam finished eating, then carried the dishes into the kitchen.

  His mom was in the living room on the sofa, reading. He picked up the cordless phone from the coffee table. “Do you need this?” he asked.

  “No. Go ahead.” She still looked sleepy, but she didn’t look angry anymore. “Melissa called while you were asleep.”

  “Thanks. That’s who I was going to call.”

  Back in his room, he dialed Melissa’s number. As he did, he thought about how tempting it was just to be honest with her, come clean. I’m not ready to do it, he thought. He heard the phone ringing at the other end of the line.

  Why am I not ready?

  It rang again.

  Because I’m not. That’s all there is to it. Maybe next summer, when school is over and done with.

  Another ring.

  Is that the best excuse you can come up with?

  Melissa picked up the phone, obviously having looked at the caller ID. “Hi! So tell me how it went! I’ve been totally distracted today, wondering. I thought you were going to call last night, but no. You left me, your good friend, completely in the dark about this grand tourist adventure with—”

  “I’m gay,” Sam said. It was like a pressure valve suddenly blew somewhere inside his head.

  There was a brief pause. “What?”

  “I was lying the other day. I knew you wouldn’t care, one way or another, but I lied. And I apologize. I’m gay.”

  “Wow,” Melissa said. A few moments later, she said, “Wow” again.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Wow.”

  “I feel like I’m getting a major exclusive here.”

  “Not so exclusive, as it turns out,” Sam said. By his count, Melissa was the fifth person to find out his big secret in the past twenty-four hours.

  He told her everything. Well, almost everything. The only detail he left out was the kiss Charlie had given him. Not all secrets were bad, and he knew Charlie would want that one to stay between the two of them. As for the rest, he spelled it out step-by-step, right through the conversation he’d had with his mom early that morning.

  When he was finished, Melissa said, “Thank you.”

  Sam almost laughed. “For what? Dumping all my problems in your lap?”

  “For telling me. I feel really honored that you trust me.”

  “I’ve always trusted you, Melissa. I was just, I don’t know, uncomfortable.”

  “No reason to be,” she said. “Ple
ase, someday I’ll tell you what’s really going on in my head, and you’ll find out what a major weirdo I am.”

  “Like I don’t already know that.”

  “It’s why we get along so well, I guess. So what are you going to do about Justin?”

  “Crawl under a rock and die,” Sam said.

  “That won’t exactly fix the situation.”

  “There’s nothing to fix. Besides, I can’t even think about it right now. I just wanted to catch you up on things.”

  “I’m glad you did. Hey, does this mean I’ve been demoted? Has Charlie moved back up to your best-friend slot?”

  “I think I can have more than one of those,” he said, suddenly feeling very lucky.

  After they had said good-bye, Sam sat, thinking. He suddenly smelled the ocean in his room. It took him a minute to realize it was coming from him, from having rolled around in the salt water with Charlie. His hair, when he reached up and touched it, felt stiff and dry.

  He took a long, hot shower. He thought about everything that had happened and everything that Charlie had told him. So much of what they had confided in each other still seemed up in the air, unresolved.

  Back in his room, he got dressed and dialed Charlie’s number, surprised that he still had it memorized.

  Mr. Perrin answered.

  “Hi, Mr. Perrin. It’s Sam. Findley.”

  “Sam Findley,” Mr. Perrin said, as if he’d never heard the name before. And then, “Sam! How are you, Sam? I can’t remember the last time I laid eyes on you. It must be, what, at least a year.”

  “Not since—” Sam stopped himself. Then, remembering what he’d talked about with Charlie, he said gently but deliberately, “Not since before Mrs. Perrin passed away. I was really sorry to hear about that. I always liked her.”

  “Well.” Mr. Perrin cleared his throat. “Well,” he said again. “Mrs. Perrin always liked you, too, Sam.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” Sam had no idea what was the right way to talk about someone who had died. But he thought he shouldn’t shy away from it with Mr. Perrin. “She always seemed so happy with you and Charlie. She was a happy person, I mean. Anybody would be lucky to have such a good family.” Okay, he told himself, shut up now.

  But Mr. Perrin said, “You know what, Sam? I think you’re right. She was happy. Sometimes I forget to be glad about that.” There was a heavy sadness in his voice. But he sounded almost glad to be talking about his wife. “I wish she were here now, she’d love to hear your voice. She always said you and Charlie were the kind of friends who would know each other for a lifetime.”

  “Well, we’re working on that. Is Charlie there?”

  “Oh, of course, hold on a second.” Mr. Perrin’s voice moved away from the phone. “Charlie! It’s Sam!”

  A few moments later, Charlie came onto the line. Sam heard the click of Mr. Perrin hanging up his extension. “What’s up?” Charlie asked. “Did you survive your mom’s wrath?”

  “Yeah. It wasn’t that bad, actually.”

  Charlie said, “Right.”

  “Okay, it was horrible. But I’m not dead, so that’s a good sign, right?”

  “I guess so. You told her?”

  “Well, I didn’t exactly have to, did I?” He gave Charlie some of the highlights of the conversation with his mom, then told him about how Teddy was, at least for the moment, out of the picture.

  “That’s a saving grace,” Charlie said.

  “I’m just glad he wasn’t here when I got back this morning. Did you tell your dad about what happened to the car?”

  “No. He hasn’t been outside or even looked out the front window, though, so it hasn’t come up.”

  “Good.”

  “He’ll notice it tomorrow for sure, because I’ll have to move the VW so we can get the Buick out. We’re going to the cemetery to visit my mom’s grave.”

  “Really? How did you manage that?”

  “I basically just told him we were going to do it. Isn’t that weird? I said, ‘Let’s drive out to the cemetery tomorrow,’ and he said, ‘I don’t think so, Charlie.’ So I said, ‘I think so. I want to. I want to put some flowers on Mom’s grave.’ Then I said I’d go by myself if he didn’t want to go with me. He got really quiet for a while. Then he said, ‘All right, let’s go.’ It was that easy. I felt like I was putting my foot down, but I’d never just asked him before. I kept waiting for him to ask me.”

  “What are you going to tell him about your car?”

  “That one I haven’t figured out yet.”

  “Well, if you want, we can ride out to the junkyard together and try to dig up some taillights. Only I can’t do it till Saturday, because I’m grounded.”

  “You got grounded? For making out with what’s his name—Justin?”

  “No! Strangely enough, it wasn’t for that. It was for staying out all night.”

  “Lucky you, I guess. My dad didn’t even notice I wasn’t here. He slept the whole night through.”

  “Lucky me? I’d rather be in your shoes.” Sam remembered, then, why he’d called. “Listen, remember that money you owe Derrick Harding?”

  Charlie grunted into the phone. “Like I could forget it.”

  “You’re going to fight me on this, but I’m not going to take no for an answer. I have at least that much sitting in the bank.”

  “So?”

  “So take it! Get this creep off your back.”

  “No,” Charlie said firmly. “I’ll work this out on my own.”

  “Save the macho act. It’s me you’re talking to. I’ve been working all summer, basically getting paid to be out of the house and away from Teddy—who isn’t even around now. Seriously, I have more than enough socked away. What am I going to do with it? Buy three iPods? I don’t need it right now, so you should take it.”

  “No way. Thanks, but no way. I need to be responsible for my own actions.”

  “Charlie, this makes complete sense. Who knows what this guy’s going to do the next time he comes around for a payment? For all you know, he could come back this afternoon. If you want, you can consider it a loan and pay me back over the next year. But really, if you do this, you’ll erase Derrick Harding from your life in a heartbeat.”

  “Sam, this isn’t your problem.”

  “I know that. And it won’t be a problem for me to lend you the money, either.”

  There was a long pause. Sam heard Charlie breathing through the phone line. Finally, Charlie said, “I’d want to pay you interest.”

  “You’re so macho. Fine. Pay me interest. Pay me whatever interest the bank would pay me, if I left it sitting there. How’s that?”

  “Well…thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me. Or if you have to thank me somehow, just so you can sleep at night, you can come over and clean my room once a week.”

  “I’m not touching that pigsty.”

  “How soon they lose their gratitude,” Sam said with an affected air. “Have you talked to Kate?”

  “About what? She dumped me. I told you that.”

  “I know. I was just wondering if you’d tried to do a little—”

  “Damage control? I don’t know if there’s any hope of that at this point. She thinks I’m a total drug addict.”

  “Well, you’re not. And she’s a smart person, right? Isn’t she in, like, every brainiac club in the school?”

  “Practically.”

  “So she’s smart enough to know you screwed up. Everybody screws up now and then. Tell her you’ve gotten your act together.”

  “It would take more than that. I’d have to prove it to her. She’s a mondorealist, and she’d want hard evidence.”

  “So prove it. You can’t do that?”

  “Of course I can do that. The questions is, is she still even interested?”

  “You won’t know until you try.”

  “You’re a little bossy, you know that? I think this was easier when you were all insecure and crushin’ on me and I was oblivious.�
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  “Those days are long gone, my friend.” Sam was on a roll. It was fun talking to Charlie like this. He felt like he was teaching him how to make a particular shot on the basketball court. “It’s all about the now. You line up for your best shot, and you take it. Nothing but net. Woosh.”

  “Or swish, in your case.”

  “The interest on your loan just went up.”

  “Hey! I was kidding! Can’t I kid you about this, or is it off limits?”

  “You can kid me,” Sam said. “I may have to kick your ass at some point, but you can kid me.”

  “Good luck with that one, Findley. So are you going to call this guy again, or what?”

  “Who? Justin? I’m too mortified to even think about that.”

  “You ought to call him. You’re going to be seeing him in school in a couple of weeks, and think how weird that’s going to be if you haven’t talked since last night.”

  “You and I managed not to say a word to each other at school for a whole year.”

  “Yeah, and it wasn’t exactly a joyride, was it? Not for me, anyway. Call him. I know you like this guy a lot.”

  “Yeah. He’s great. But I can’t call him, Charlie. It’s just too embarrassing.”

  “So e-mail him. It’s perfect: If he wants to respond, he’ll respond. If he doesn’t, then at least you’ll know it’s because he didn’t want to.”

  “Maybe.” Sam wanted to change the subject. “So—the junkyard on Saturday?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “It’s great, you know, just talking to you. I’m actually glad all this crap happened, if it means we’re friends again.”

  “Same here,” Charlie said. “You make a rotten ex-friend.”

  “Thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  After they hung up, Sam got dressed. He still felt tired from having been up all night, so he lay down on his bed to take a nap. But he couldn’t fall asleep. His mind leapfrogged from Justin to Teddy, from Teddy to his mom, from his mom to Charlie, to his dad, to Melissa…to Justin. There was no harm in just sitting down at the computer, right? Click around on the keyboard, see what happened. Whatever he typed never had to leave the room.