Gay Fiction, Volume 1

by Mel Bossa

  I sighed heavily and chewed on my lip some more.

  Swung my legs.

  “Derek. I know your dad had to go up north for a job. I know your mom had to be sent away for a while. That’s a rotten deck you’re holding right now, but you never know, kid, life might deal you a royal flush someday. Now talk to me ’fore the doctor comes back in here.” He smiled. “Hit me with the ugliest thing you got floatin’ around in that head of yours.”

  Ugly.

  All right then.

  “I beat my-myself up-up.”

  Nothing moved between us.

  Officer Di Paglio’s face was like a picture. His arms hung like dead branches. Then his chest moved forward, followed by his head. Like he was stepping out of a cookie mold. He turned around and ran some water. He filled a cup and drank it in one straight gulp.

  It looked nice.

  “Can—I have so-some please?

  His back was to me. “Sure thing.” Officer Di Paglio filled another paper cup and slowly turned around. His face was the color of chalk dust. He handed me the cup.

  I drank half of it and gave it back to him. I felt better. A whole bunch. “Can I go ho-home now—”

  “Why did you do this to yourself?”

  His question filled my eyes with tears.

  “Derek? What made you lose your head like that?” He knit his thick eyebrows. “Did somebody ask you to? Maybe someone inside your mind, like—”

  “I want to-to tuh-tuh-touch him so much.”

  Officer Di Paglio ran his hand over his face. “Him who?” His voice was flat. Like the sounds our guitars make in music class.

  His honest eyes turned my secret thoughts into words.

  “I wa-want him to ki-kiss me—”

  “Okay. Okay.” Officer Di Paglio set his clipboard down on the counter. “Okay.”

  I nibbled on my thumbnail, watching him pace back and forth.

  “Okay,” he said again. I don’t think he was talking to me. He picked up the clipboard again. “Okay.”

  I began to worry.

  He then took a piece of gum out of his pants. “Okay.” he said again. He dropped a piece in my hand. “Want some?”

  I nodded.

  He frowned. “You’re saying you like boys. I mean, in a—” His voiced tired. “In a special way.”

  I glanced up and thought about it for a moment. “No.”

  “No?’

  I crinkled my nose. “Nah-uh.” The gum was spearmint. I don’t like that kind, but I like Juicy Fruit. “No. Just hi-him.”

  “Him who?”

  I smiled. “Nick.”

  Officer Di Paglio didn’t smile back. His eyes were dull like butter knifes. “Okay,” he repeated again.

  “Can I throw my-my gum out pl-please?”

  The corners of his mouth sagged. “Yeah, sure thing.” He handed me the basket. I threw my gum in.

  “Nick, you mean that bum sitting in the waiting room?”

  My body hardened and I tasted blood on my lip.

  He looked up. “Listen, maybe you just admire him. You know? That happens between boys sometimes, when—” He stopped. “Never mind. I’m gonna go get your auntie—”

  “No. Please—”

  “Derek—”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Derek.” Officer Di Paglio’s voice was quiet, but firm. “Look at me. Okay? I won’t tell nobody about the whole wanting to kiss that juvenile delinquent thing. You don’t like boys the way you think, or you’d like all the boys.” He sighed. “I don’t know much about these things, but I know I have to tell your little auntie that you did this to yourself, ’cause right now, she’s your legal guardian. She needs to know about these things. It’s the law. I have no choice.”

  The warmth was gone from me. Fear soaked my spine. “O-okay.”

  He smiled, but his face looked like it was about to crack. He slapped his thigh. “All right kid. Stay put. You need anything?”

  My eyes were glued to the floor.

  “Derek. Hey.”

  I shook my head and folded my arms over my chest.

  “Derek, forget about it. Put that troublemaker out of your mind.” His voice grew stronger. “One day, you’ll meet a nice girl, marry her, and have a whole bunch of kids. This is gonna be like a nightmare that happened to somebody else. Okay? Trust me. It’s over now.”

  Officer Di Paglio hesitated by the door, staring into my eyes, and then disappeared.

  I waited again.

  I watched a spider crawl across the floor.

  Fiddled with my gown.

  Counted the blue tiles.

  Minutes passed.

  The long kind.

  Then the door swung open. “Baby!” screamed Aunt Frannie, rushing to me like I was on fire. “Honey. Red. Baby!” She was crying, snotting and shaking. “Why would you hurt yourself this way?”

  Officer Di Paglio reached out and tried to peel her off me a little. “Ms. Saint-Jacques—”

  “You could have killed yourself!”

  Officer Di Paglio repeated, “Ms. Saint-Jacques—”

  But Aunt Frannie couldn’t hear anything over the sound of her own crying. Her tears were warm on my neck and cheek. “Oh, Red.” A sob exploded out of her mouth, and spit shot out of her wet lips.

  “Francine.” Johan had appeared in the doorway. “Be still.” It looked like the wind had been knocked out of him. His hair was disheveled. His blue eyes shone with tenderness. “Francine,” he said again. His voice carried everything safe back to me, and my shoulders sank.

  Johan quietly entered the room and set his robust hands on Aunt Frannie’s shoulders. “Come with me.”

  His gaze met mine. “Let’s get you into some clothes.” He then faced Officer Di Paglio. “I’m taking them home.”

  Finally.

  “Mr. Lund—”

  “Enough.” Johan’s jaw set. “Give me your card, Officer. This is a family matter, is it not? This boy needs some rest.” Johan tugged on my arm. “Come, Derek.”

  Aunt Frannie stopped whimpering. She spoke more coherently. “Red, let’s go.”

  I glanced up to Officer Di Paglio, but his eyes quickly strayed, and he nodded. “Okay. Go home, but I’ll be in touch in the next twelve hours.” His attention shifted to Johan’s face. “Before you go, I’d like to talk to you and Mrs. Saint-Jacques. Privately.”

  Why?

  My heart pummeled my chest, and I shot my aunt a nervous glance, fidgeting by the door. “Can we go—”

  “Yes, baby. Just a minute okay? Why don’t you find Nick?” Her cheeks darkened as she said Nick’s name, and she and Johan exchanged a strange look.

  Why?

  Aunt Frannie gently pushed me out of the room. “He’s sitting in the ER, right by the coffee machine. He’s got your clothes.”

  At the mention of Nick’s name, my heart picked up the pace.

  My body twitched. “Okay.”

  I walked down the crowded hallway, with my gown coming undone in the back, and I shuffled my feet, avoiding eye contact with anyone wearing white.

  I passed a washroom and stopped by the door.

  I had to see what I looked like.

  When my eyes caught sight of the boy in the reflection, they nearly popped out of my skull.

  My nostrils were crusty. My lips were swollen and purple. It looked like I had a golf ball tucked under my left cheek. There was an imprint of my hand on the bottom of my neck.

  I don’t know why I had to go and paint all this misery on my face. Bad enough I’m a redhead.

  I ran the water and cleaned my nose, then slicked my hair down.

  I tied up my gown and took a deep breath.

  Finding Nick didn’t seem like such a fantastic idea after all, but he had my clothes and I needed those very badly, so I turned away from the mirror and walked slowly to the main waiting room.

  There he was.

  Sleeping.

  Snoring really. He was half falling out of his chair. H
is long legs were stretched over another chair, and this didn’t seem to please the old lady sitting by his feet. She kept staring at the hole in Nick’s sock. His big toe stuck out of it.

  I chewed on my lip, debating, then looked around for my clothes.

  I found them quick enough.

  They were folded neatly. On Nick’s lap.

  I tiptoed to him, trying to steady my heart, and carefully reached for my pants.

  The old woman jerked in her chair. “Hey! What are you doing there, young man?”

  I pressed a finger to my lips. “These clothes are mi-mine—”

  Nick cracked an eye open and gave a startle. “What the fuck. Jesus. You fucking scared me.” He ran a swift hand over his sleepy features, and sat up. “O’Reilly, you’re so quiet. You’re deadly, man.”

  I lifted the corners of my mouth, trying to smile. “So-sorry.”

  “It’s cool. No worries.” Nick’s eyes moved over my bare legs. “Want your pants, I guess, huh.”

  “Yes Please.”

  “Here. ’Fore you blind us all.”

  I slipped them on right there. My shirt was dirty with blood, so I kept the gown on, but at least my bum wasn’t exposed anymore.

  Nick stretched his arms and neck. “Sit down, O’Reilly. You look like shit.”

  I obeyed.

  He looked around, and sighed explosively. “I fucking hate hospitals.” He stuffed a hand into his front pocket, digging for something, and pulled out a Twinkie. It looked more like cake batter in a plastic bag, but my stomach gnawed regardless.

  “Want some?”

  I nodded.

  He laughed. “Jesus. You really don’t say much, but tell you what. This here little shit show you just pulled sure got everybody’s attention. I’ll give you that.” He unwrapped the package and slid the squashed mess out of it. “Here. Enjoy. See, you don’t even have to chew it.”

  The first bite made my mouth water.

  Nick lay back into the chair and let out a long breath.

  I tried to keep my eyes on the TV beaming in the corner. The man on the screen was cutting wood with these special knifes and kept asking people to call in now. But my eyes kept straying. To the right, then down. Nick’s thigh brushed mine.

  All I wanted was to lay my head on it. To rest my face against the bulge in his jeans.

  Nurses were coming and going. Some man came in on a stretcher, but he didn’t look sick, on account of all his yelling and thrashing. Police officers helped roll him down the hall. His bloody screams echoed for minutes.

  Nick whistled. “Nut case.”

  A giggle escaped my mouth.

  Nick looked over at me. “Think that’s funny, huh?”

  I smiled.

  His face became serious. That ice storm blew through his eyes again. “Yeah well. You keep Jean-Claude Van Damme-ing your ass, and they’ll be rolling you down same as that guy. No?” He shook his head, running his tongue over his lips. “O’Reilly, keep pushin’ shit down, it keeps floatin’ back up. Only uglier. Trust me. I know.”

  My gaze found the TV again, and this time, my eyes didn’t stray.

  Officer Di Paglio told Nick I beat myself up. Yes, he did.

  C’est la vie.

  My hands had begun pulsing again, around the knuckles. My lips seem to have a heartbeat of their own, and my chest was very sore. I tried ignoring the sensations, but with every breath, they only grew stronger. I sank back into the chair, easing my body into a more comfortable position, but a moan had drifted out of my throat.

  Nick looked over. “Don’t feel too hot, huh?”

  I shrugged.

  Something like a shadow moved through Nick’s eyes.” Your hand hurts.” He glanced around the room.

  Then his hand touched mine.

  I froze.

  Nick’s skin is warm and soft like my favorite fleece blanket.

  His fingers folded over mine, and he bent his face to my ear. “O’Reilly.” His whisper smelled like sugar. “There’s nothing wrong with us.”

  I turned my face up to him. “I—”

  “Sit tight.” His fingers left my hand, and he rose, found his boots, and then slipped them on. He didn’t bother with the shoelaces. “I’m gonna score you some relief.”

  Relief.

  I need you. I need you. I need you.

  Please. Talk to me. Hold my hand.

  “Okay.”

  I watched him until he was out of sight.

  Nick walks like he knows exactly where he’s going, but doesn’t know what he might do when he gets there.

  “Hey, hon.”

  I had fallen asleep in my chair.

  I opened my eyes to find Johan and Aunt Frannie both smiling down at me. “Let’s go, baby. Let’s go home.”

  Was this time the real deal? Or would I be spending the sixth grade in a hospital? “No-Now?”

  “Yes, baby. Now. Can you walk?”

  Johan reached his hand out, and before I knew it, I was leaning up against his chest, being escorted down the hall.

  Out of the waiting room.

  Out of the ugly.

  Nick was outside. I don’t think Johan saw the cigarette on his lip, but I sure did. Nick flicked it over his shoulder just as we were coming on him. He popped a gum stick into his mouth, and handed his dad the keys.

  “No. You drive.” Johan pushed the keys back into Nick’s hand.

  Nick stared into Johan’s eyes. He then slipped the keys out of his dad’s fingers and walked around to the driver’s side. We all followed.

  I sat in the back with Aunt Frannie and Johan sat up front.

  Nick turned the engine on.

  “Seat belt,” said Johan.

  Nick looked over to his dad.

  “Seat belt,” Johan repeated without returning Nick’s cold stare.

  Nick pulled the belt over his shoulder.

  He then set his hand on the stick.

  “Mirrors.”

  Nick sighed impatiently. He checked the side mirror and adjusted it. He then glanced up to the rearview mirror, but I didn’t have the chance to look away before his blue eyes caught mine staring back. I quickly turned my face to the window, and tried to keep from puking.

  Nick finally put the van in reverse and pulled out of the parking lot.

  “Watch the Pontiac.”

  “Dad. I got it.”

  Aunt Frannie’s cold fingers set themselves on my hand, and she squeezed it gently. I glanced over and tried to smile. She tried to smile back.

  Her makeup had run, but she still looked pretty.

  “Nick. Slow down.”

  “I’m going the speed limit. I’m going forty, Dad, this is a fifty—”

  “Slow down.”

  I watched the street. It was afternoon now. School was out. Kids were walking home, lugging their heavy schoolbags, throwing dirty snow at each other. Laughing.

  I looked up to the white sky instead.

  “Give the guy some space. Back off a little.”

  “I’m five feet from his bumper—”

  “Back off, Nicolai.”

  “Dad, you gonna lemme drive or what?”

  Aunt Frannie leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. I stared down at my hands. They were pretty beaten up.

  “Keep right here, it’s the next light.”

  “I’ll change over when I get a chance—”

  “Keep right—”

  “Fuck this.”

  We came to a grinding halt. My seat belt tightened like a vise around my neck, pressing down on the bruise there.

  Aunt Frannie gasped. “Goodness.”

  We were stopped.

  “What are you doing!” cried Johan.

  I slipped my fingers between the seat belt and my neck, and caught a breath. I watched Nick climb out of the van. Johan honked and rolled down the window. “Nicolai Lund, where the hell do you think you’re going! We’re in the middle of the road.”

  Nick spun on himself, threw his mid
dle finger up, then stuffed his hands deep into his pockets and walked away.

  My jaw hung down like it was broken. I looked over at Aunt Frannie. She was trying to keep from laughing. But when the corners of her mouth lifted, a huge, belting laugh flew out of me. It was the kind of laugh you can’t stop. The kind that hurts. Aunt Frannie covered her mouth with her hand, but her shoulders shook up and down, and tears were rolling down her cheeks on account of how hard she was laughing behind her palm.

  Johan turned around. His eyebrows met over his nose. His eyes were two slits of disapproval. “Having fun back there?”

  Aunt Frannie’s laughter shot out so violently that it caused her hand to fly off her mouth.

  Johan’s lips moved a little. His eyes widened, then his whole face came undone, like the anger had fallen right off it. He chuckled softly at first, but slowly, his chuckles turned into full, heaving rumbles of laughter.

  Finally, we all got our wits back.

  Aunt Frannie blew her nose as I took a few painful breaths.

  Johan leaned back into his seat and sighed. “That kid’s got his mother’s temper. Nicolai was born looking for the edge, and I don’t even know what he’ll do once he meets it.” Johan slid into the driver’s seat and we drove away.

  That was four days ago.

  I haven’t seen Nick since then.

  No one wants to talk about it.

  Everyone just keeps their head down.

  David is gone too.

  Vanished.

  *

  Today is the day.

  In two hours, I will be in Boone’s house.

  Like a child coming home from a long field trip, I am running in my heart, with my eyes on that door, that safe, familiar door.

  And I don’t care if Nathan sulks all evening. I can’t let him ruin this gift.

  “So, tell me about this Boone guy.”

  We were having breakfast. Wheat cereal for Nathan. Peanut butter and jelly sandwich for me.

  “You haven’t seen him in how long?”

  I washed down the head rush with a glass of milk. “Told you, seventeen years.”

  Nathan licked his finger and flipped to the business section. “And he was your best friend? Why did you guys drift apart like that?”

  I set my plate in the sink. Saturdays, Nathan is on dish duty. I was itching to jump in the shower and go for a ride. “I told you, they moved.”

  “Right. I get that. But, you never looked him up, or—”