by TJ Klune
Otter snorts. “Does it really matter if it’s obvious or not?” he asks me. “The Kid was completely fine with it. As a matter of fact, he’s ecstatic over it. Who cares how he figured it out?”
I take a step back from Otter and shove my hands in my pocket. “I care,” I tell him crossly. “If a nine-year-old can see this, what the hell are we going to do about everyone else?” The white bliss, the feeling of the slate wiped clean, is gone. In its place, the ocean has filled in through the cracks of the seabed, and the wind is whipping around me, and I feel like I am standing at the edge of something, and I cannot for the life of me take a step back. How I could go from feeling empty to this in such a short space of time is beyond me, but I did, and I can’t make it go away. “Your brother,” I hiss at Otter, “my best friend, comes home tomorrow. What the fuck are we going to do about that?” I remember vaguely talking to Creed on the phone just a short while ago (or was it longer than that? Days? Months? Years?) and how I’d been ready to tell him everything.
“Whatever we choose to do,” Otter says, sounding annoyed. “If you don’t want to say anything to him, then that’s fine. But he is my brother, and he is your best friend, and I would think that would give him somewhat of a right to know. What do you think would happen if he found out? That he would never speak to you again?”
I shake my head angrily. “I don’t know what would happen, and I don’t want to find out. You told me,” I say, pointing a finger at him, “that you would give me some time to work this out. You know I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. You know this is the fucking scariest thing I’ve ever done.”
His face softens, and he closes the distance between us and takes my hand. I want to shake it off, but his big paw has a firm grip on me, and it would be futile. I stare irritably at the ground, wanting to go back to the state of nothingness. Lightning flashes and thunder rumbles, and I wonder what would happen if there was ever an earthquake at the edge of this ocean. I wonder if the shocks alone would be enough to swallow me whole. I think incoherently of tidal waves.
“I know,” Otter says gently. “I’m sorry if it seems like I’m trying to force you to do anything, because that’s the last thing I’d want to do. We’ll do this your way. I promise.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and then he’s around me, and I rest comfortably in my place on his shoulder. He’s big, so much bigger than me, and I hope that it’s enough to harbor me against whatever may come. He rubs my back, and the waters retreat just out of sight. I can still hear the subtle cacophony of the waves, but it’s drowned out by the haven that has amassed itself around me.
“I know, Papa Bear,” Otter says from somewhere above me, his words muffled by my hair. “You just got to trust me sometimes, okay? I know it’s hard to believe, but every now and then, I do know what I’m talking about.”
“I do trust you,” I sigh. “It’s myself that I’m having a hard time with.”
He pulls back and takes my face in his hands and kisses me sweetly. He grins crookedly at me, and his eyes once again show everything he’s feeling about me, every emotion bare on his face. The waters come a little closer but do not return to where they were. He brushes my cheek and chuckles.
“What’s so funny?” I ask.
“Well, aside from Ty knowing about us, we did find out something else that’s interesting.”
“What’s that?” I ask, puzzled.
He arches an eyebrow. “That you love me.”
My mouth drops open. “I totally do not!” I growl as I punch his shoulder as hard as I can. He breaks out into gales of laughter and tries to get away, but I jump on his back, wrapping my arms around his neck, and he stumbles into the living room. I squeeze my knees into his sides and beat on his chest with both hands. He cackles, and I know I’m nothing more than a pesky fly to him when he’s able to reach back with one hand and pull me off his back and over his shoulder and onto the couch. I land on my side, and he falls on top of me, grinning his grin and the gold-green glinting, and he leans forward and whispers in my ear, “I totally don’t love you too, Papa Bear,” and then his mouth is on mine, and for a moment, that blissful feeling is back, but this time it’s accompanied by something else, something that feels strangely like the sun.
“SO BEFORE we get there, we need to talk about a couple of things,” I tell the Kid, trying to keep the nervousness I feel out of my voice. “Just so we have an understanding.”
He rolls down the car window and holds his hand outside, letting the breeze play across his fingers. His newly cut hair flips and flops across his head, and he looks at me expectantly. “Is it about you and Otter?” he asks plainly.
I nod. “I just want to make sure you know what we spoke about last night. About….” I grip the steering wheel tightly. “About how Otter is… he’s….”
“Your boyfriend?”
I sigh. This already isn’t going well, but it’s my fault. “How’d you know?” I ask him curiously, staring straight ahead.
I feel him shrug. “I just… I don’t know. I guess I picked it up after you and Anna broke up, and he was around a lot more. You guys weren’t really friends again before that happened.”
“That’s it?” I ask incredulously.
He shakes his head. “No, it wasn’t just that. I knew Otter was gay, and I knew that he loved you because he would look at you like he did. It’s how Anna looked at you.” I cringe, cursing God for giving the Kid the power to observe more than the rest of us combined. “And then I saw a few days ago how you looked back at Otter the same way,” he says, pulling his arm back inside. He crosses his arms across his chest and looks over at me accusingly. “How come you don’t tell Otter you love him?” the Kid asks. “Is it really so hard to say what you feel?”
“It’s not as easy as you’re making it out to be,” I say through gritted teeth.
He rolls his eyes. “Well, it’s certainly not as hard as you’re making it,” he retorts. “I would think that if you find someone who loves you as much as he does that you would do anything to make sure that they know you feel the same way. At least, that’s how I would want it to be.”
“Nothing is that black and white, Ty!” I say, letting my exasperation get through. I want to believe him that all of this is as simple as he says it is. But no matter how smart and wise he is, I have to keep reminding myself that he is still just a kid. A very grown-up kid, but the Kid nonetheless. “Things can’t be a certain way all the time just because you want them to be!”
“Why not? Why do people care so much who you love? You’re not hurting anyone, right?”
“Not that I know of,” I say, trying to keep the thoughts of Anna out of my mind.
“And you’re not doing anything wrong?”
“No, Ty.”
He throws his hands up in the air. “Then who cares? I’ll never understand why people just won’t let others be who they are. It’s not like it’s affecting them in any way.” He turns and frowns at me. “And until you realize that,” he says quietly, “how can you be fair to Otter?”
“It’s not just about being fair to Otter,” I retort, unsuccessful at keeping my anger in check. “If it was, things would be a lot easier than they are. I have so many other things to worry about, Kid.” Traffic slows to a stop in front of me, and I glance over at Ty. “I’ve never even thought about anything like this before, much less imagined myself doing it. This changes everything about me, and it’s going to take a long time for me to be able to deal with all of it. On top of that, I have to think about everything else that was going on before. Just because Otter is here and all this is happening doesn’t mean my life gets to stop completely so I can focus on him. I still have responsibilities. My job, our house. You. I can’t let this be the only thing I zero in on.”
Ty grimaces at me. “Don’t try to put me in the middle of this. I’m doing fine, thank you very much.” He stares out the window again. “Better than I’ve been doing in a long time,” he mutters. “Papa Bear,
you have to have your own life too. If you can’t do that now, then when?”
It’s the same old argument that I’ve heard a thousand times before from what seems like a thousand different people. When are you going to do something for yourself, Bear? they say. When are you going to put yourself in front of everyone else? But I’ve never heard it from the Kid before, and it’s not sitting right. I’ve always counted on Ty to tell me the truth whether I wanted to hear it or not. He’s always been the one to say things that would resonate with me. That’s why it makes this a whole hell of a lot harder. I want to tell him to shut the fuck up and mind his own goddamn business. I want to tell him that everything I do and everything I’ve ever done has been for him. That I’ve spent the last three years making sure that he knows that at the end of the day, no matter if everyone else in the world has rejected him, that he still has me. To hear him… turn on me like this is akin to a betrayal that I’ve never felt before.
Maybe you’re so upset because he is the only one who tells you the truth, the voice whispers. You’ve always been able to trust him to say the things that no one else would dare to mention to you. And that’s why it burns so badly, isn’t it? It burns and it blisters because if he’s saying it, if he’s singing that same old song, then everyone else would be right. And that’s why you’re really mad, Bear. That’s why you want him to… how did you so eloquently put it? Ah, yes: shut the fuck up. You want him to shut the fuck up because if he says it, you know in that secret place that it’s true. But the question you need to be asking yourself, that real question that nobody seems to be asking, is why one and all seem to be so keen to push you right at Otter? Why are they all so eager to see you happy? What have you done to deserve this?
I’ve done everything! I shout back. I’ve done everything I can!
It rumbles its mirth throughout my head. Then… what’s the problem?
“Bear?” Ty asks. “Are you okay?”
I wince as the voice in my head laughs again. “I’m fine,” I grumble at him. “Can we turn this off of me for a second and turn back to what I was trying to tell you?”
He exhales noisily. “Fine. Only if you promise to at least think about what I said.”
“We’ll see, Ty. But for now, I need you to promise me to keep what you know to yourself. There’s no need to be going around talking about it, okay?”
“You mean to Creed, don’t you?” he says almost inaudibly.
I nod. “Yes. That’s exactly who I mean. We’re going to be there in, like, two minutes, and I need you to promise me that you’ll let me figure this one out on my own. You need to keep your mouth shut about this for now.”
“Why don’t you just tell him?” the Kid asks. “If he’s really your friend he won’t—”
“Ty!” I almost shout. It’s the closest I’ve gotten to yelling at him in the longest time, and I don’t miss the way he shrinks away from me. I feel bad, but I can’t help it. The storm is near, and the waves are crashing, and we are pulling onto their fucking street, and I need to have this validation. I need to know that this can stay a secret at least until I figure out what to do. I think back and see me wanting to tell Creed everything when I spoke to him last night. I don’t recognize that person. That person is crazy, that person is insane, that person is wrong. It can’t happen now, and if I can’t get this promise from him I am going to keep driving past their house and go home and close the door and curl up under my covers and wait until everything in the whole goddamn world starts to make a fucking modicum of sense.
“You’ve always told me to tell the truth, no matter what,” he says, and I instantly hate my fortune-cookie advice. “So if I’m going to do this for you, you have to promise me something.”
“Anything!” I say, panicking as their house comes into view.
He takes a deep breath and says, “You have to promise to not let Otter go. You have to promise not to drive him away. I’m scared of what will happen to you if you do.”
“I promise I can try,” I say meekly.
“Then I can promise to try as well,” he says, trapping me neatly.
I almost drive past anyway.
“ABOUT time you got here!” Creed shouts as me and the Kid walk through the door. “I was about to go out and hunt you two down.” He hugs me fiercely, and I see Ty over his shoulder but he won’t look at me. I know he’s angry at me, but this is the only thing I could think of to do.
“Sorry,” I say, forcing a smile on my face as he lets me go. “I didn’t know I needed to show up when you wanted me to.”
He snorts. “You do what I say, when I say, Bear. You know that.” He turns to the Kid. “And how’s my favorite little man in all the world?” He picks him up and sets him on his hip. “Why are you being all quiet?” he asks him suspiciously. “Is Papa Bear beating you? Do I need to take him down a few pegs?”
This makes the Kid giggle, and I feel myself relax. Ty wraps one arm around his neck and kisses Creed on the cheek. “Hey, Uncle Creed,” he says.
“Hey, yourself,” Creed says back. “That’s better. I thought we were going to have a problem here or something.” He carries the Kid toward the kitchen, and I hear him ask Ty about his sleepover, and Ty instantly launches into full detail, and I can do nothing but follow. I walk past the pictures, and I know they are all pointing and laughing at me again. Ha ha, they say. Ha ha on you! I walk faster.
Otter’s in the kitchen, and he grabs the Kid from Creed and spins him around, and Ty does his usual false protestations. Otter brings him up, and Ty’s head goes to his ear, and I can see his mouth moving as he whispers something, something so soft that Creed and I cannot hear what he is saying. The Kid pulls back, a serious look on his face, mirroring the one that has appeared on Otter’s. Otter nods his head, and Ty wiggles down from his arms and grabs Creed’s hand. “Can I show you something I found on the Internet at school, Uncle Creed?” he says, pulling Creed toward the stairs.
Creed grins back at me, and as they turn the corner, I can hear him say, “If you show me porn, I’m complaining to the school board on Monday.”
I stare after them as they disappear. I know what the Kid is doing, and I curse him silently in my head. Part of me wants to know what he said to Otter, but the other part wants to follow after them and not worry about it at all. Before I can move, Otter is standing next to me. He reaches out tentatively and touches my fingers. I sigh and link my pinkie with his, and he smiles.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey, yourself,” I say back.
“You okay?” he asks, concern in his voice.
“What’d the Kid say to you?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
I roll my eyes. “You didn’t answer mine.”
He grabs onto my hand, gripping it gently. “I asked first,” he says, grinning. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I’m fine,” I say, dropping his hand and rubbing my arms.
He arches his eyebrow. “You looked spooked, Bear.”
I glare at him. “There are a lot of things going on right now, Otter. I don’t know if it’s such a good idea that we’re here.”
He snorts. “So… what? You’re going to ignore Creed for the rest of your life?” He takes a step closer and as my back is against a wall, I can’t move. “You’re going to ignore me for the rest of your life?”
I put my hands up to push him away, and they fall on his chest, his big, hard, overgrown chest, and he brings his hands up to cover mine, and all I want to do is be sheltered by him. I want to crawl up against him and have him dig around inside my head and make all the bad things go away. It’s funny, really. I can feel doubt and anger and trepidation all I want, but the moment I am in his presence, the moment I can touch and see and hear and smell and taste him, all that is driven away. Not all the way away, but far enough. I don’t know what that says about him. I don’t know what that says about me. He gazes down at me, waiting for an answer.
I shrug. “I don’t k
now, Otter,” I whisper. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”
His brow furrows subtly. “What? Creed?”
I nod.
He brings up my hands and kisses them gently. “Just say the word, and I’ll worry about Creed,” he tells me. “Until then, I promise to be good.” He grins. “But you’re going to owe me,” he says, kissing my hands again. “Just because Creed is here doesn’t mean there’s going to be a dry spell for the next couple of months. If I need to, I’ll knock him out and stuff him in my trunk until I’ve had my way with you eight or nine times.”
He finally gets me, and I laugh. He smiles at me and leans down to kiss me on the lips, and I close my eyes in anticipation and have a chance to think, Maybe it will work out okay, and then I hear Creed and the Kid thumping down the stairs. I hiss and move quickly to the other side of the kitchen, hiding my growing erection behind the counter of the island. Otter smirks at me and shakes his head, and I can see that shadow cross his face again, ever brief but there nonetheless. I know somehow I’m causing it, but I don’t know what to do. I open my mouth to say something, anything, to make the situation just a little bit better, but Creed walks in, the Kid upon his back. He sets him down on the counter and then looks at me.
“Well?” he asks, his face suddenly serious.
“Well, what?” I say, trying to shrug nonchalantly. It comes out as a seizure, and I hit myself in the ear.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Creed growls, his eyes flashing.
The ocean rises, and the storm crashes, and the white noise in the back of my head rushes forward. I look at Ty, whose eyes are wide. He shakes his head behind Creed’s back, trying to tell me he didn’t say anything to Creed while they were upstairs. Otter’s staring stupidly at Creed, his mouth open.
“Tell you what?” I say, my voice wavering.
He walks and stands in front of me, his face a few inches from my own. He props his hands at his side, cocks his head to the left, and squints his eyes. I know he’s found out, and I know he’s trying to figure out how in God’s name I ended up fucking his brother. He knows, and he’s going to freak out and kick my ass, and Otter will let him because it’ll be what I deserve. I try to think of as many rebuttals as I can, but nothing comes to mind. Roaring panic is never a great place to be in when trying to think of quick lies.
