All Things Lost

by Josh Aterovis

  “Yes, and she had some big news.”

  “Bigger than your news?”

  She stuck her tongue out at him and continued, “Her and Jake are moving back.”

  “Back here? What about Dash?”

  “Yes, back here. And Dash is staying there. He's in school and he's lived there all his life. Jake is apparently missing the area, and us too, and so Aunt Judy has decided to move.”

  “Wow,” I said. Judy had always intimidated me a bit. When I'd first met her she'd changed looks about as often as most people changed their underwear, and her uncanny ability to know things had unsettled me. We'd had more than one encounter that left me with the willies. She'd saved Asher's and my life though, and Jake's too. I wondered if she was still as strange as she'd been then.

  “What is she going to do?”

  “Well, apparently she has her own business now, she's doing interior design. You know, going into someone's house and redecorating? She has some weird hook but I forget what it is. She's planning on doing that here too.”

  “That sounds like fun!” Asher exclaimed. “I wonder if she'll need any help.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like a pretty fruity job,” Bethany said with a sly grin. It was Asher's turn to stick his tongue out at her. “Seriously, though,” she went on, “you should ask her. I'm sure she'll need some help.”

  Asher's mom entered the room and surveyed the three of us sprawled across the furniture. “It's moments like this that make me so proud to be a mother,” she said, sarcasm warming her voice.

  “What do you need, Mom?” Bethany asked as she struggled to stand up.

  “No, no. Don't bother lumbering to your feet,” she said and waved her back down, “I just wanted to tell Asher that Aunt Judy was moving here and get a report on the new baby.” Asher's mom, Deb, and Will's dad were brother and sister, which made Will Deb's nephew.

  “Well, Beth just dished the dirt on Aunt Judy,” Asher told his mom, “and the baby is doing great. Will named him Darin Joseph. Darin means precious something.”

  “Gift,” I supplied.

  “Yeah, precious gift. I haven't seen Will this happy since Uncle Lowell and Aidan died.”

  “Good, we could use some good news around here for a change.”

  “Ahem,” Bethany said with a pointed look at her round belly.

  “While a baby is always good news, I would have preferred that tidbit came with a daddy attached.”

  “We've been through all this, Mother,” Bethany sighed. Her expression clearly said that she wished she hadn't brought attention to it now.

  “Don't mother me,” Deb said with a grin, “You know we're here for you. I just wish I could say the same for the father, that's all. Oh, and Asher, some boy called here for you today.”

  I perked up and looked quizzically at Asher, who was looking rather blank.

  “Who was it?” he asked.

  “He wouldn't leave a name. He said he'd call back. Dinner will be ready in about an hour.”

  “Where's Marcus?” Asher asked Bethany after his mother had left.

  “He's out looking for a summer job,” she said.

  “Come on, let's go check my email,” he said and we left the room. Usually Asher had a room to himself but when Marcus was home he had to share. The room held two twin beds and a desk, a couple dressers and a desk with a PC sitting atop it. The walls sported a Wizard of Oz poster on one side (Asher's) and a Red Hot Chili Peppers poster on the other (Marcus'). Asher headed straight for the computer while I flopped onto his bed.

  “So, you have guys calling you often?” I asked playfully while he signed on.

  “Only when I think you're not going to be around,” he answered in kind, “Actually I have no idea who it could be.”

  “Sure,” I teased.

  “And what was that crack about a relationship losing its magic when you move in together all about?”

  “I was just kidding around,” I said defensively.

  “It didn't sound like it to me. Is there something you're not telling me, Killian?”

  “What do you mean?”

  The computer shouted, “Welcome” and “You've got mail,” but it failed to distract Asher's attention.

  “I mean it's obvious something is bothering you about us moving in together. I want you to tell me what it is.”

  “Nothing is bothering me. I'm just a little nervous is all.”

  “Nervous about what? We've been dating for over a year. We've been best friends for most of our lives. We love each other. What more do you want?”

  “This is a pretty big step, Ash.”

  “Look, if it's bothering you that much we won't do it.”

  “Ash, will you listen to me. I'm not saying I don't want to live with you. I do. I'm just saying it'll take a while for me to get used to the idea.”

  “How long? A week? A month? A year?”

  “I don't know. I'll be ready by the time we find an apartment.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes, I promise.” I stood up and bent over Asher for what started off as a quick kiss but quickly heated up. We were still in a lip-lock when Marcus entered the room.

  “Geez guys! Get a room!” he yelled good-naturedly.

  “We did. We're in my room,” Asher shot back.

  “My room too for the next couple months.”

  “Well, we're looking for one of our own,” I added.

  That caught his attention. “You're what?”

  “I, uh, hadn't really told my family yet, Killian,” Asher said sheepishly.

  “Oops,” I mumbled.

  “Killian and I are looking for an apartment closer to school,” Asher explained. “But don't tell Mom and Dad yet, ok?”

  “Why not? I'd think they'd be thrilled to get one of us out of the house once and for all.”

  “I just don't want them to get all involved with it. I'd rather have it all lined up and figured out before I tell them.”

  He shrugged, “Whatever. It's your life.”

  Asher rolled his eyes and turned back to the computer. He clicked on his mailbox and his mail popped up on the screen.

  Marcus and I chatted while Asher read his mail, until Asher interrupted.

  “Kill, do you remember that guy I was talking to whose dad was abusing him?”

  “Because he was gay?”

  “Well it got worse after his dad found out.”

  “Yeah, I remember you talking to me about him. You met in the XY chat room, right?”

  “Yeah, his name is Caleb. He sent me a letter. I think maybe he's the one who called me.”

  I looked over his shoulder at the letter he was pointing to.

  It read, “Asher, thanks for talking to me. It's meant a lot. My dad beat me up again last night and this time the social services people are hanging around. They asked me if I want to go to a group home while they figure out whether or not to charge my dad with child abuse. I don't know what the big question is. He's been beating the shit out of me for years and all the neighbors and half my teachers know. So anyway, I might not be online for a while. I just wanted to let you know. I have your phone number in my wallet so if I can get to a phone I'll try calling you. Later, Caleb.”

  “How old is he?” I asked when he'd finished reading it.

  “I think he's 15, or 16 maybe. Somewhere around that.”

  “Where's he from?”

  “Near here somewhere. I can't remember exactly but I know he's on the Shore.”

  We lived in a small town on the lower Eastern Shore of Maryland, often referred to by locals as the Shore. It's also called the Delmarva Peninsula because the area of land between the Chesapeake Bay and the Atlantic Ocean is made up of all of Delaware, part of Maryland, and two counties of Virginia. The entire Shore, which is mostly flat farmland or wetlands, much of it intersected by rivers and creeks, is only about 200 miles long and 45 miles wide at its widest point, narrowing to less than 5 miles in places in Virginia. So if Caleb lived on somewhere
on the Shore, chances were he was relatively nearby, which explained the phone call.

  “I wonder why he was calling,” I mused aloud.

  “He probably just needs someone to talk to,” Asher said, “I get the impression that he doesn't have a lot of friends. He must be lonely.”

  “Poor kid.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I need a job,” Marcus moaned from his bed.

  “Me too,” I agreed.

  “Me three,” Asher added.

  “I thought you were going to work for your Aunt Judy,” I said.

  “Aunt Judy? What? You guys are moving to California now?” Marcus asked as he sat up. “Mom's gonna really freak about that.”

  “We're not moving to California, you dolt,” Asher said with a laugh, “Aunt Judy's moving back here with Jake. She called today. She has some sort of interior design business and she might need some help.”

  “Sounds perfect for you,” Marcus grinned.

  “Now you sound like Bethany.”

  “What?” he protested with an innocent expression. “I'm just saying you have excellent taste.”

  With a mock growl, Asher hurled himself across the room, catching Marcus in a tackle, and the two of them tumbled backwards on his bed. I jumped in for the fun of it and the three of tried to throw each other off the bed until Deb called up and threatened to ground all of us if we didn't cut it out. The three of us lay panting side by side on the bed for a minute before Asher started giggling.

  “What's so funny?” Marcus demanded.

  Asher couldn't answer at first for laughing, but he finally managed, “I think that was my first threesome.”

  Marcus leaped off the bed in one fluid motion as the two of us burst into laughter at his flustered expression. He left the room shaking his head and mumbling something about how no one at school would believe him. I rolled over on top on Asher and we started kissing, all the tension and arguments from earlier forgotten for now.

  Chapter 3

  The sun was still hovering low over the horizon when I pulled into our driveway that evening. The days were getting longer and longer as summer officially approached. I lived with my surrogate father, Adam Connelly, and his partner, Steve Redden, in an old two-story beach house just a few blocks off the boardwalk. We lived in a beach resort town on the Atlantic Ocean. For about six months of the year it was a quiet small town, but when the tourist season started, usually sometime around Memorial Day, it swelled to a small city. For now, things were still on the quiet side. Things wouldn't get really crazy until after the schools let out.

  As I climbed out my car I thought about the events that had brought me here. It was Adam's son, Seth, who had first helped me admit that I was gay. When he was murdered, it set many things into motion. I came out to my homophobic father in an argument, and he proceeded to beat me up and kick me out. Adam had taken me in without a second's thought. I'd lived with him ever since, even when my Mom moved to Pennsylvania to be near her sister, Aidan's mom.

  My hand was on the doorknob when the door flew open and a small, compact body plowed into me at full force. I staggered back and wrapped my arms around the missile.

  “Whoa, sorry Killian,” Kane panted as he disentangled himself from my grasp.

  Kane was Adam's younger son and, for all intents and purposes, my little brother. Every time I looked at him I saw Seth in his features. They both had inherited their mother's looks, elfin and attractive. They both had intelligent, bright green eyes and a slightly upturned nose. Their hair tended to have a flyaway look to it that suggested that no matter what they tried it would do exactly as it pleased. Seth had worn the look proudly and it suited him. Kane always managed to look like he needed a comb. The other big difference between the two brothers was that Seth had been tall and lanky, where Kane was thus far short and sturdy, although he kept swearing he just hadn't hit his growth spurt yet. He was 16 and he seemed to have a different girlfriend every week.

  “Where are you off to in such a hurry?” I asked him.

  “Mitch just called, his mom said we can go skating tonight at the new indoors skate-park. We gotta roll before she changes her mind. You know, school night and all.”

  I laughed, “Alright, have fun.”

  “I will,” he yelled as he jumped the porch rail.

  “And if you see any cute guys think of me,” I called after him.

  “Ha! Get your own guys!” He jumped into Adam's car, a dusty old Jeep Cherokee, and tore out of the driveway in a spray of gravel.

  Adam was waiting just inside the door. “What was that about?” he asked. Adam didn't look all that much like either of his sons. They had taken more after their mother, but Seth had gotten his height from his father. Adam stood a little over six foot and was looking more and more distinguished as his once reddish-blonde hair turned grayer and grayer. His face still held a certain boyish charm, though, and his eyes were a sparkling pale blue. Right now they were clouded with concern. Just what I needed, I thought.

  “Kane is going skating,” I said, unsure of what he meant and not at all sure what his tone of voice was implying.

  “Yes I know,” he said patiently, “I gave him permission. I meant what was that about cute guys? Are you and Asher ok?”

  “Geez, Adam. I was just kidding. Asher and I are fine.”

  “You're sure?”

  “Of course I'm sure,” I said, although I wasn't really all that sure. I walked into the kitchen with Adam close on my heels. “We're even looking at apartments.”

  His eyebrows shot up, “Apartments?”

  “Apartments?” Steve echoed from his spot at the kitchen table, where he sat hunched over a set of blueprints.

  “Yes, apartments,” I said. I opened the refrigerator and rummaged around until I found a Pepsi.

  “When did this happen?” Adam asked me. I definitely didn't like his tone of voice now.

  “Nothing has happened, yet. We're just looking. We don't want to live on campus and we don't want to drive an hour every day so it just makes sense that we'd get an apartment. I'd be moving out if I was going away to college anyway. What's the big deal?”

  “The big deal is you haven't even discussed this with me.”

  “I didn't know I had to. Look, we're just getting a head start.”

  “A head start? You just graduated a day ago! And you're already apartment shopping? Have you picked out your china pattern yet? Are you registered?”

  “Huh?”

  “Does your mother know about this?”

  “I'm almost 18; I don't need my mommy's permission,” I snapped.

  “So that means no.”

  “It means screw you, that's what it means.” I slammed the Pepsi down on the counter, splashing it all over the place, and stormed out of the room. I took the stairs two at a time and slammed my bedroom door shut behind me.

  I slumped against the door and looked around the room I shared with Kane. It was a small room, never intended for two occupants, and so it was crowded with all the things two teen-aged boys think they need to survive. Two single beds took up most of the floor space. A desk, set against one wall under a sloping ceiling, held a computer and stack of books. Two mismatched dressers flanked the desk. Mine held a small TV set and Kane's an assortment of junk that leaned perilously to one side, threatening to spill onto the floor at the slightest provocation. Clothes lay scattered about the room, some mine and some Kane's, some dirty and some clean. A cloudy glass lay atop a pile of outgrown shirts that Kane had cleaned out of his dresser last week and never touched since. The wall's decorations were pretty much untouched since the day I moved in. They were exactly as Seth had left them the last time he walked out of this room. By some unspoken agreement, neither Kane nor I had ever made a move to take them down. A Matthew Sheppard poster hung on one wall and an old MTV Fight For Your Rights poster graced the other. They served as a quiet reminder of the boy who had once lived in this room.

  A soft knock on the door brought me ba
ck to the present.

  “Killian?” It was Steve. “Can we talk?”

  I sighed and moved away from the door. “Come on in,” I told him as I dropped backwards onto my bed.

  The door opened and Steve leaned against the doorframe. “You ok?”

  “I'm fine,” I said to the ceiling.

  He walked over and sat down next to me. Steve was in his early 40's and in great shape. He had warm brown eyes and dark brown hair and was usually the voice of reason in our home. Despite the fact that I had lived with Steve almost as long as I had Adam, we had never formed the depth of bond that Adam and I shared. Still, I respected his opinion and valued his advice. I just wasn't sure I was in the mood for it right now.

  “You could have broken it to him a little more gently, you know?” he said.

  “Great, now you're going to come up here and lay a guilt trip on me.”

  “I'm not trying to lay any guilt trips. I'm just saying that this isn't easy for him.”

  “What isn't easy?”

  “You're a smart boy, Killian, think about it. Adam has been your father for the last two years. He loves you like you're his son. You and Kane are his world, especially since he lost Seth. Now you're growing up and getting ready to fly the nest. He's still getting used to the idea that you're a high school graduate and then you walk in and announce you're moving out. With no warnings, no discussion, nothing. How do you think that makes him feel?”

  “That doesn't mean he can jump down my throat,” I said petulantly.

  “From where I was sitting it looked like you were both doing your share of throat jumping. What's really going on, Kill? What's bothering you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Something is bothering you. I've lived with you long enough to know the signs. You aren't exactly hard to read you know.”