Benji and the Wireman

by Charlie Winters

  “Electrical tape. I cut strips. My dad helped put them on, but he’s pretty shit with anything craft-related, so it was a mess. My mom probably wanted to intervene but at that point, I was super pissed at her because she told me my timing was off in this one section and—” Ben stopped talking and crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh my God. I can’t even believe you two assholes somehow got me to talk about this picture.” He turned to fully face me. “Don’t you have to get back to work?”

  “No, actually,” I told him. “I got Will to cover me. I’m free as a bird.”

  “Well, shit,” he muttered.

  “Jesse, would you like to see the photo of Ben dressed up as Nomi Malone from the Showgirls on Halloween?” Oma asked with a wide grin.

  Ben crossed his legs politely and leaned in toward her. “If you didn’t already live in a home, I would check you into one right now. I know you don’t have a photo of that in here because I’ve gone through this book with you before many, many times. Now, if you are hiding a photo of that somewhere else in this room, I will end you. Also, you do know that it’s just Showgirls, not The Showgirls. What is wrong with you?”

  She leaned across Ben and locked her gaze on mine. “He had this blonde curly wig. It had a lonnnng ponytail, you see. And soooo much glitter that—”

  Ben stood up and clasped my hand, “Oh, Oma. Look at the time. Jesse has to go back to work. He’s got, like, a gazillion things to do, so—”

  “No, he doesn’t. He said he’s free as a bird. I heard him. I was sitting right here.”

  “Maybe I have a gazillion things to do then,” Ben returned, tugging his hand from mine to place on his hip. “I have to work at eight and I have a lot of prep to do. A lot of prep. Lotta, lotta, lotta prep.”

  She glanced at the clock. “It’s twelve-thirty seven.”

  “Lotta prep, Oma!”

  “Okay.” She lifted her hands in defeat. “Benji. Come on. Give me a kiss.”

  He shook his head. “No way, old lady. I’m not falling for that. Next thing you know, you’ll be breaking out pictures of me in show choir. Or at the Prom… or on my tragically straight first date.”

  “Her name was Candy Kane, Jesse.”

  Ben tugged my hand again. “Oma, I swear.”

  “Like a stripper. The girl that Benjamin had his first date with was named Candy Kane. Whose parents would do such a thing?”

  “Hers did, Oma. Besides, Candy knew I was gay, so she wasn’t really like my girlfriend anyway. I just thought she was a bad ass for Topeka and sometimes we borrowed clothes from each other. Whatever. Can you just let us go? I have like… unlimited things to check off my list today, so… time’s-a-tickin’… or whatever.” Ben glanced down at his wrist to stare at a nonexistent watch.

  “Will I see you again?” Oma asked seriously, lifting her eyes to meet my gaze. “Will you come to see me again? We’ve only gotten through a few pages of the book. Maybe can you just wait a moment… just… wait.”

  She picked up the phone with a shaky hand and dialed the zero. After a few moments, she started to speak. “Hello, this is Anna. Hi. Oh, yes. Anna Bowen. Room one-oh-five. Oh, you know it’s me? Oh. Okay. Sorry. Okay, well, is Cheryl there? She is? Can she come here for a second? I need her to do me a favor, okay? It will take one second. Okay then. Okay. She’s gonna come now then? Alright. Okay. We’ll see her in one second. She’s coming now then, right? Okay. Okay. Room one-oh-five then. Okay then. Bye.”

  A moment later, a red-haired woman with a wide grin entered the room. “Hi, Anna,” she said jovially. “Hi, Ben! Oh, and who is this here?”

  “This is, um, my friend,” Ben stammered. “Jesse.”

  “This is Benjamin’s new boyfriend,” Anna said proudly. “And I called you in here so you could take a photo with my Polaroid. Can you do that for me, Cheryl?”

  Cheryl clapped her hands together in delight. “I would absolutely love to do that.” She went to the dresser and retrieved a black clunky camera before lifting it to her face. “Okay, Anna. You want to stand or sit? You want the boys on either side of you? Or you want the boys together and you on Ben’s side?”

  Oma Anna answered immediately. “I want two pictures. I want both of them of just the boys. I want you to write their names on the bottom so I don’t forget, okay? I want you to put one of them in this book at the very end, on the last page, okay? They’re going to be the last chapter in the story, I just know it,” she said thoughtfully. “I want you to take a second one and put it on my mirror. Same thing. Put their names on the bottom. I want to look at them regularly so I don’t forget so much, alright?”

  “Sure, Anna. You got it,” Cheryl replied, her voice thick with emotion.

  Ben cleared his throat too before turning toward me. His eyes were glossy, but he gave me a small smile and took my hand shyly. “Sorry about all this. She just—”

  “No,” I returned with a whisper, squeezing his hand tightly. “Hey. I want to be in your chapter, Ben.”

  Ben put on his game face and turned toward the lens, giving the camera a Hollywood smile while leaning into my shoulder. I pressed my hand to his back, gently massaging his spine as we posed for the two shots. Every time the camera shot out the paper, Ben flinched and I ached to kiss him. I burned to press my lips to his. I wanted to take him home and bury under the covers with him for a week—instead, I settled for my hand on his back in a retirement home while some nurse in Betty Boop scrubs took our photograph.

  “Thank you, Cheryl,” Oma said. “Don’t forget to write on them, okay? You write ‘Ben and his boyfriend Jesse.’”

  “Oh my God, seriously,” Ben mumbled, covering his face with his free hand.

  “Okay. Got it.” Cheryl took a pen from the dresser and started to scribble as we turned back to Ben’s grandmother.

  “You’ll come again?” Oma repeated, her voice unsteady.

  I reached down and took her hand in mine. “Yeah. Yes, of course. I can come back with Ben in a few days, maybe.”

  “That would be good,” she said softly. “Really good. My Benjamin is a good boy.”

  “My God, Oma,” Ben interjected. “What has gotten into you today?”

  “He is, even though I’d like to strangle him sometimes.” She turned back to me. “So you take care of him. Because life is gonna be hard and he needs someone to hold him up. You understand what I’m saying?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You’re scaring him. Jesus,” Ben muttered.

  “Nah,” I returned, leaning over to kiss Ben on the cheek. “She’s fine. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Cheryl placed the two photos into their requested places before quietly excusing herself from the room and closing the door.

  “I’m going to see my Nancy soon.” Her smile was wide and genuine, almost like she couldn’t wait. “But then my Benji will be all alone. And he’s going to really need—”

  “Enough with the gloom and doom, Oma. You aren’t going anywhere, so you need to stop acting like this is the final freakin’ countdown. I’ve heard enough for today, young lady. We’re gonna get out of here so you can go play canasta or whatever it is you old people find so exhilarating and then we’ll be back in a few days to check up on you, alright? So… call me if you need anything, okay? But if not, we’ll be back to finish that horrific book. It’s basically like The Babadook by the end.”

  “Shush. I like pictures. And I love pictures of you. I have a million of ‘em.”

  Ben smiled genuinely at her, giving her a quick wink. “I’ll even let you show him the Nomi Malone one if you’re lucky.”

  “The glitterbomb,” she whispered with a grin.

  Ben lowered down to press a slow kiss to her cheek. “I love you, old woman.”

  “I love you too, Benji bear.” She turned toward me and waved a simple goodbye.

  “We’ll see each other in a few days?”

  Oma shrugged her shoulders weakly. “Sure. You take care of my Benjamin.” She winked at me s
wiftly. “Promise?”

  “Promise, ma’am.”

  “Good man.”

  And at three-forty-two that afternoon—with Ben curled lazily into my arms—Anna Bowen died comfortably in her sleep.

  Thirteen.

  Ben

  I could barely hear her—this June Eller, I think her name was—as she spoke in a quiet voice on the other end of the line. Of course, I knew what she was saying. Of course she’d said that my Oma was gone and that arrangements had already been made, but that I’d just needed to finalize a few things. She’d just needed me to contact a few people and—

  But he was there—Jesse—and he kept trying to fucking touch me while June rambled on. His fingers trailing over my shoulder as the tears ran down my face and all I wanted to do was open the door and shove him as far away as I possibly could, but I knew… I just KNEW he wouldn’t go because—goddamn it!—this was Jesse and he was that fucking guy… the guy who stuck around when shit got rough. He wasn’t the guy who ran and Jesus fucking Christ, wasn’t that just what I needed?

  Can you go? I mouthed to him while clutching my phone.

  He shook his head because of course he would shake his fucking head. Instead, he rubbed his thumb across my cheek and caught the deluge of traitorous tears trapped there.

  I pointed to the door a second time, desperate for him to take a hint. Please? I mouthed again. I’ll call you later.

  No, he mouthed back.

  Motherfucker.

  Jesse sank his head onto my lap and stared up at me, his gorgeous brown eyes needing a fucking answer. I wanted to slap him. I wanted to reach down and hit him as hard as I could. It was an irrational thought, of course, but I needed to be alone.

  I needed my mom. My dad.

  There would be another Jesse somewhere down the road, but right now… Oma was gone and I just couldn’t.

  Go, I mouthed. Now.

  No.

  “Now!” I yelled aloud.

  Jesse lifted from my lap just as June answered, “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Not you, June. I’m sorry. I was… I’m sorry. Can I just… please, can I call you back? I have to talk to my parents. I know you’re planning to speak to my mother, but I just need to call them and… I need a little time. I’ll be back to you shortly.”

  I pressed the end button and turned my attention to Jesse.

  “I need you to go, Jess.” My hands shook as I lowered the phone to the bed. “I can’t do this with you right now.”

  “Do what, Ben? Let someone in? Can you admit that you might need me right now?”

  I lifted off of the bed and turned toward the living room. “Right now, I need to call about ten-thousand people and I can’t have you fucking here while I’m trying to do that.”

  Jesse reached out once again and touched my back softly. “Why not?” he asked. “Just tell me why I can’t be here for you right now.”

  I whirled on him, not liking myself at all in that moment, but, “Because I don’t want you here. I don’t want you to fucking touch me and I can’t handle this with you breathing down my goddamned neck!”

  Jesse slumped onto the sofa and put his feet up on the coffee table. He looked relaxed—fucking relaxed!—even taking a moment to cross his ankles over one another. “Yeah, you do want me here. You keep telling yourself that you don’t. And you say you don’t want me to touch you, but you’ll come around on that one too. Listen, I can’t even begin to imagine what’s going on in that head of yours right now because I know you loved that woman like she was your own mom, so I’m not going to pretend that I understand. Right now, I’m just going to be here and help with whatever I can. If you want me to do something, I will. If you want me to go get an iced coffee for you, I will. If you just want me,” he said, lifting his eyebrows, “I’m here for you.”

  “What?” I stared at him. “What I want is for you to fucking leave.”

  “No you don’t.” Jesse picked up a Crate & Barrel catalog and started to casually flip through it. “I won’t touch you anymore, but if you need me, I’ll be right here.”

  “What the fuck, Jesse? Will you please go?” The last sentence was more of a choked out cry, but Jesse didn’t seem to notice, seeing as he was fully engrossed in the goddamned summer catalog.

  He placed it casually onto the side of the sofa and gazed at me. “Are you ready to talk like adults for a second?”

  “I’m gonna call the police,” I blurted.

  Jesse patted the seat next to him on the couch. “Come here. I just need you to take a few deep breaths, okay?”

  I was sure that my entire face was flushed with heat, but I tried to remain composed. “Jesse, I swear, I do appreciate what you are trying to do and I love your little Zen approach right now, but that is not how I operate. I break down. I melt like a goddamned candle and right now… mmmhmm, I’m fucking melting. So, I’m gonna need you to stand up quietly, put on your shoes and get out of my house in like, say, five fucking seconds.”

  “No,” he countered. “Here’s why. I know you want to be alone. I can see that, but everyone has probably always let you do that. You need me right now even though you can’t see it. Ben, go into your bedroom. Close the door. Make your calls. When you’re done, come out here and talk to me, okay? Or not… if you still aren’t ready to talk, you don’t have to, but I’ll be here waiting for you.”

  I stared at Jesse—stupid Jesse with the disgusting beard… the giant gaping asshole living on a goddamned mountain—before turning on a heel and slamming my bedroom door behind me.

  My mother cried. I hadn’t heard her sob like that in a long time—maybe not ever. I just let her cry on the other end of the line without interrupting her with words as I curled into my pillow. I wanted to get under the blanket and fall asleep, but I knew I had to go to Indian Villas.

  I also had to get my shifts covered. I had a laundry list of things to do. I knew Jesse would help, but I didn’t want his fucking help. I didn’t want him to do any of it.

  “What am I going to do?” she asked. “I wasn’t prepared. Why wasn’t I prepared? I mean… I knew. I knew and I should have come out when you called and—”

  “Mom,” I interrupted. “Stop. You couldn’t have known. She was so good today. You should have seen her. She was amazing. She talked a full hour of shit like normal. She remembered everything. She even showed Jesse the stupid photo album.”

  “Jesse?” my mom asked with a sniffle. “He was with you?”

  “Yeah,” I said softly. “Oma wanted to meet him. It was last minute.”

  “Really?” She choked on a small laugh-slash-cry. “That’s amazing. Did she like him?”

  “Oh my God, I think she was ready to perform the marriage ceremony herself. She touched him so much, I almost forgot for a minute that she liked the ladies.”

  My mom let out another small laugh followed by a sigh. “That’s good. Is he… is he still there with you?”

  “Yes,” I snapped. “He won’t fucking leave. I have to do things and he… he’s infuriating. When are you coming?”

  “Your dad is booking the flight now. We’ll probably be there in the morning. I don’t know that we can be there tonight.” She let out another soft cry. “I just wish… God, I wish I could have seen her one last time, you know? I always regret not seeing Momma for a while before…”

  “Momma” was Grandma Nancy. Her death had taken my mother into a dark place for a while with regrets so deep-seated; she’d resorted to seeing a therapist for more than a year after she’d passed. It had taken her years to understand the relationship between her mother and Grandma Nancy, even rebelling and dating a few girls of her own, Oma had said, just to “get back at them.” Of course, once Oma and Grandma Nancy had happily approved, she’d gone back to dating boys and even met my father in her final year of college.

  “I know, Mom. But Oma knew you loved her, okay? And so did Grandma Nancy. Don’t forget that you were the most important person in their lives.”

&nb
sp; The bedroom door softly clicked open and Jesse appeared holding a Starbucks cup. He placed it on the bedside table and turned as quickly as he came. He quietly took the handle of the door, leaving my eyes glued to that beautiful mane of soft waves as it shut with another click.

  “I know,” my mom answered with a sniffle. “But I still can’t help but think that—”

  “I think I might love him,” I blurted.

  “What?”

  “Jesse,” I answered immediately. “I might—”

  “I heard you, but you’ve known him, what, two weeks?”

  I stared at the door again, thinking about the man on the other side. We’d done nothing but kiss, yet I felt more in those two weeks than I’d felt in the entire nine months I’d spent with Zach.

  “Forget it,” I mumbled. “I’m just having a really stressful day and all of the grief is making me crazy. I can’t wait to see you. I can’t handle this by myself right now.”

  “It doesn’t sound like you have to, Benji,” she said with another sniff. “It sounds like you have someone there who wants to help handle it with you.”

  “If I don’t quit acting like an asshole, he’s going to move to Alaska. I swear, not even thirty minutes ago, I told him that I didn’t want him to touch me… like ever… and that I couldn’t stand him breathing down my goddamned neck. Then I turned around and told him that if he didn’t get out of the fucking house, I was going to call the cops. How am I doing so far, Mom?”

  “Um,” she returned with another short laugh, “I told your dad that he better figure out how to log on to the goddamned computer and get the tickets for Florida or he was going to spend the next decade trying to figure out how to pull his nuts out of his throat. Now, how am I doing, kid?”

  I breathed out a sigh of relief. “I have to fix it.”

  “You will. Listen. Don’t worry about Indian Villas today, okay? Just relax for a while. Just get your block covered and we’ll be there as soon as we can. I’ll tell you the flight info and just… take it easy. Tomorrow, we’ll go there together and take care of everything. For tonight, maybe just take care of that problem out there, alright?”