The Maple Effect

by Madeleine Cull

  It wasn’t a long drive in any sense, but the roads were winding, and in a car he’d never driven before, he would have to be careful. He promised Aaron he would, and even though he was pissed at him now, he would stick to this word. June didn’t have a car of his own, but he knew how valuable and important they could be to people.

  Five minutes into the drive, Charlie shifted in the seat next to him, trying to move it back or fold his long ass legs into a more comfortable position somehow. He fought with the seatbelt that locked up on him. Stopped for a moment and then reached forward to play with the air vents.

  “Would you stop messing with shit,” June scolded. “I don’t want Aaron blaming me if something gets broken.”

  “It’s an air vent, June,” Charlie grunted; nose scrunched up in irritation.

  “Yeah, well, it’s not idiot proof!”

  June bit his tongue as soon as the words were out, and while sitting in Aaron’s driver seat, he couldn’t help the sudden rush of guilt that washed over him. He didn’t know why he felt so defensive around Charlie, especially given that the guy had never done anything really wrong. Sure, he was awkward and clumsy and uncoordinated, but so were a lot of people. June remembered the night of the bonfire. How he’d been punched repeatedly by Charlie’s older brother and then passed out in the dirt. Did he hate Charlie because he’d lost then? Was it because his pride was still wounded?

  Or did it have more to do with the fact that Angie was happy with Charlie, and June hated change?

  Rationally, it wasn’t fair to be mad. He just wasn’t mature enough to admit it out loud.

  Silence hung between them heavy and cold, laced with shame. In the back of June’s mind, he could see Aaron’s disappointed face, and that did things to his heart he’d never experienced before. It was far worse than the way his mother or father looked at him when he was in trouble. It made him feel exposed and repentant. Made him question his morals.

  Maybe Aaron was making June a better person? Or maybe June was making himself a better person for Aaron. He didn’t know.

  Either way, he gripped the steering wheel harder and whispered sorry under his breath so quietly he wasn’t sure Charlie heard him. The only indication he did was the way he turned his head and stared. Mouth slack and bushy eyebrows pinched together.

  “Can I ask you what the hell is your problem?”

  June grit his teeth; watched the road carefully, so he didn’t accidentally meet the eyes staring back at him. He didn’t anticipate his apology would open up a new can of worms, but who was he kidding, it was a wonder Charlie hadn’t asked him sooner. Still, the words to describe what was wrong with June were few and far between. June sucked at this kind of thing.

  “Because…” Charlie went on when June couldn’t. “I know what’s wrong with me, you know?”

  June didn’t know, but he let the guy continue.

  “My father’s a drunk, and my mother’s been in and out of rehab for years. One of my older brothers is in prison for life, and my other brother is well on his way there too.” He stopped, hands clenched in tight fists. “I’ve been dealt a lot of shitty hands in my life. I’m not good at school or sports or…really anything, okay? And when I turn eighteen, my father is going to kick me out, and I’ll have nowhere to go.”

  There were many times in June’s young life where he’d misjudged people before he’d gotten to know them, but this situation seemed quite extreme. He wondered why Angie hadn’t informed him of any of this. He was arrogant, but he wasn’t cruel. He would have understood…

  June remembered the day in the ice cream shop when she’d stepped between them. What had she said at the time? Something about June not knowing what Charlie was dealing with? Or was that what she’d said about him?

  Overwhelmed, June let off the gas and pushed into the brake pedal. He wanted to get home as soon as possible, but he also couldn’t drive and think like this at the same time.

  “What are you doing?” Charlie asked, concerned as the car came to a stop off the side of the road.

  June was nothing if not accountable for the tension between him and Charlie. And he could tell himself time and time again he needed to make an effort to get along with the kid, but nothing was going to change unless he let him see more than just the outer shell. He’d made mistakes about hiding his cancer from people before, and even though it still tore him up to talk about it, he figured this was it. If he told Charlie now, Angie would be happier, Aaron wouldn’t think less of him, and maybe then they could move forward.

  “I didn’t know any of that,” June said, shifting the car into park. He didn’t intend to sit here long, but he had to get it off his chest now or he never would.

  “Well, that’s what’s wrong with me.” Charlie sniffed, indifferent. “And I don’t take it out on anyone else; so, what the hell is wrong with you?”

  In a small way, June respected Charlie for demanding this answer of him. It made him uncomfortable, sure, but it also meant he had a backbone. Maybe that had something to do with Angie making him a better person too.

  “I’m dying.” June closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat. It never got easier…saying those words. He hated the truth. Hated that it made people pity him. Hated that it was a weakness. June never considered his life to be a tragedy; he wasn’t the typical disaster cancer patient, so he hated when people treated him like one. He was young and strong. Alive. Cancer was an invisible enemy he had no control over. Why couldn’t other people see it in that light?

  He didn't feel sick. He didn’t feel anything. And that was what made it so hard.

  “You’re…dying?” Charlie repeated. “What do you mean, you’re dying?”

  “I mean, I have cancer, and I’m dying,” June spat. “That’s what the hell is wrong with me, alright?”

  For the first time since the two of them met, their eyes connected and lingered, and what they saw, there was more of each other than just stupid teenage boys. June didn’t know what it was like to have a shitty family, and in the same respect, Charlie had no idea what it was like to live with death hanging over his shoulder.

  “Damn…”

  “Yeah.” June smacked his hands down on the steering wheel. Drummed them there anxiously and looked out the window. The sun was beginning to set, and they really should be getting home by now.

  “I’m...sorry?”

  “Save it.” June waved him off and reached down to put the car back in drive. Charlie didn’t know June well enough to feel sorry for him; there was no point in trying.

  “Just do me a favor and never talk to me about it.”

  “Alright, first question.” Aaron took a deep breath. “Why is June here right now. Why did his parents let him come?”

  Out of all the things Aaron didn’t understand about June having cancer, the biggest one by far was how his family just let him go running off into the mountains alone. Sure, he was eighteen, but they had to have some kind of control over him, right? If Aaron was in the same position June was in, with so little time left to live, his parents would be at his side every moment. His parents wouldn’t let him out of their sight.

  “I don’t think they really…had a choice, to be honest,” Angie said. “June is stubborn as hell, one. And two, how could they stop him?”

  “They could have followed him here…” Aaron mused. “Or at the very least called to talk to him? I know June doesn’t have a cell phone, but still.”

  “Oh, they’ve called.” Angie chuckled. “They’ve called my mom every day since they found out he left.”

  That, at the very least, made more sense than them never calling. Aaron picked at his fingernails, considering it. He didn’t know June’s parents or his sisters, but from the stories he’d heard, he assumed they were pretty tight-knit. June’s family probably knew him better than anyone else. They probably knew how irrational he would be if they tried to talk to him personally or convince him to come home. Pushing would only make him fight back hard
er, right? And yet, even so, Aaron was amazed they didn’t try. Under these circumstances? Why? He didn’t get it.

  “They’re keeping tabs on him,” Angie clarified. “So really, not much has changed aside from him being here instead of there.”

  “Doesn’t he…have to take medicine? See doctors and stuff?”

  “Society wants him to, I’m sure. But he made the decision not to do all those things, and doctors have to respect that choice whether they want to or not.” The way Angie set her mouth, reminded Aaron of the way June looked when he pouted. She continued, “You didn’t know June when he was going through the worst of it…but the medicine he was taking was doing more harm than good. He did one round of chemo and wanted to die, Aaron.”

  Goosebumps crawled up Aaron’s arms at the thought of it. He didn’t know anything about cancer or the effects it had on people, let alone the effects of treatment. And while he wasn’t stupid enough to believe the television commercials for cancer medicines, what with their shiny silver linings and soft background music, he was otherwise very ignorant.

  “It just…seems like he’s giving up.”

  Aaron didn’t want to believe June had given up on life but doing nothing to fight the disease seemed like the worst option. He was eighteen…he had so much fire and intensity, so much drive and spirit…it didn’t make a whole lot of sense why June would give up on living. Wasn’t that the most important thing of all? How could June want to lose at life? That was something, quite frankly, more fitting for a guy like Aaron.

  “I don’t think it’s giving up,” Angie disagreed. “He’s doing everything he wants to do while he can. You know they say you’re supposed to live like you're dying, well June literally is doing that.”

  “Here though? Thousands of miles away from his family?”

  “I know it’s silly, but this place is important to him. He feels at peace here.”

  Aaron didn’t know what he wanted to hear, but none of the things Angie said made him understand. In fact, it only made his heart ache more. Deep down, he was probably expecting Angie would give him a thread of hope to cling on to since she was always so cheerful and positive. The stoic look on her face didn’t sit well with him at all. It made him nervous. Made him feel like she also had given up.

  “What are you gonna do?” he asked her softly. “If he’s gone?”

  She laughed again, this time sadly. Bit at her bottom lip and sniffed. “Stop, you’re gonna make me cry.”

  “Well, I don’t know what to do,” he pleaded. “I-I don’t want to let him go.” There was a familiar panic rising from the pit of his stomach now. Gripping his organs hard and squeezing them. His lungs tightened, and when he looked up past the mountain to the darkening sky, he wished more than anything he was home.

  Ever since he’d found out about June’s secret, his fear of the dark had been tangled with his fear of losing the boy. Aaron no longer knew what was triggering what, and that only plunged him further into distress.

  “I don’t want to let him go either, but we have to be there for him while we can.” Angie’s gaze flickered from the road to him and back again. “We gotta be strong for him.”

  Aaron’s breath caught in his throat, came out shallow. Forced. He closed his eyes and thought about them playing air hockey together. He thought about ladybugs and cold water. The way June kissed him and the huge maple tree off the deck of the cabin. It did little to calm the way he felt, but it was something.

  “How can I be strong for him if he won’t even be strong for himself?”

  “Aaron?” Angie must have caught the way his voice lifted and broke. He wasn’t in tears or anything, but his mind was starting to whirl. He covered his mouth with his hand, thumb tracing the scar on his jaw.

  “I’m afraid of the dark,” he stated, although this wasn’t caused by lack of light. This was something else entirely. This was the same beast that struck him down the night June told him about the cancer. After he’d been left alone.

  Angie pushed harder on the gas, and amazingly, reached up to turn the cab light on. It was dull, but the effort she made for him was more considerate than a lot of people had been in the past.

  “I just don’t want to lose him.” He pressed his sweaty palms into his eye sockets and shivered.

  “Are you having a panic attack?” Angie asked, voice quiet.

  He shook his head. “I’ll be o-okay.”

  “Give me your hand.” She reached out to pry it away from his face. “Come on. It’s okay.”

  He let her hold and squeeze it tightly. Focused on his breathing and began counting the length of time he could exhale before inhaling again. This part of him was so unpredictable and ruthless. He’d had a great day with his friends and messing around with June. He’d been so shamelessly happy, and now this of all things? He understood the ins and outs of dealing with his fear of the dark, but how was he supposed to deal with a brand-new crutch?

  As a child, his therapist had told him for a long time that he was in denial, but he’d never understood what she meant. How could someone be in denial of something so real and so powerful? He never made up the way he felt about the dark, and he never tried to pretend it didn’t exist. So why, after so much time, did he suddenly get it now? Why did denial fit the description—the ball of chaos—thrashing about inside of him.

  Fear of the dark and fear of losing June stood side by side. Two snarling, snapping, explosive beasts that now shared the same cage. They were both battered and bruised, dripping hot with fresh blood. Teeth bared and claws extended. The only difference between them was age. While Aaron’s fear of the dark was a timeless, experienced monster, his fear of losing June was a young and feverish one. They squared off and fought. Fought for ownership and dignity. Fought for truth. Fought for power.

  Aaron wondered for the first time if denial was not the beasts at all, but the cage in which they stood. If he were to let one of them out, which one he would rather stay inside of him? Something he’d struggled with since he was a child? Or something much more rational, but new?

  He didn’t have room to be afraid of this many things. He was spilling over.

  “It’s okay,” Angie repeated, using her wrist to shift gears, so she didn’t have to let go of him. “D-Do you have any more questions about June?”

  Aaron probably did, but he couldn’t remember them right now. He shook his head and finally opened his eyes. The sky didn’t seem as dark as it had a moment ago. The initial wave of panic was subsiding.

  “No, I’m okay,” he breathed. “Sorry…”

  “Don’t be sorry!” Angie insisted. “I don’t mind at all, actually…can I tell you something?”

  Aaron swallowed, head rolling to the side to look at her. “Hmm?”

  “I haven’t told June, because he’s really weird about stuff like this, but I got accepted into UCLA… After this summer I’m gonna be moving down there. Doing the whole, dorm-room thing. Living on campus. Making new friends…I’m gonna study psychology.”

  In the past, Aaron had noticed the way Angie was intrigued by anything outside of her life here. The way her eyes would twinkle. The way she looked longingly outside every window like she was waiting for something to come down out of the sky and take her away. It was the same kind of red-hot ambition that led his cousin to Monterey. The same ambition Aaron admired with a heavy heart and longed to have a piece of.

  Angie wasn’t meant to scoop ice cream forever; she was too smart and gentle and kind. She had too much love to give to the world; it would be a shame for her to stay here.

  “I would have been lucky to have someone like you as a therapist,” Aaron murmured.

  Her smile was bittersweet. She squeezed his hand a little tighter. “Thanks… Don’t tell June though. I want him to enjoy his last summer as best he can.”

  “Right…” Aaron nodded. “What about Charlie?”

  “I haven’t told him either,” she admitted. “I don’t think he’s gonna be mad or anything, but
I know he’s hoping we can stay together.”

  “Don’t you want to stay with him?”

  Angie shifted in her seat, picking at a piece of plastic peeling off her steering wheel. She sighed.

  “Honestly, I’m not sure. I like him, I really do. But it seems kinda silly to try and have a relationship long distance at my age. I’m only eighteen, and there’s so many places I want to go and things I want to do, you know?”

  Aaron thought about how he’d wanted to play music when he was younger, and how he’d practically given up on himself before he ever tried it. At one point, he’d thought about going back to Portland and singing in coffee shops with an acoustic guitar, and what that life might do for him, but without June in the picture, it all faded to grey. He didn’t want that life over June. He wanted June to be a part of it. Maybe even needed him to be.

  “I get it,” he told Angie. In a way, he envied her for being able to separate her own life from the one that involved relationships. She was making a smart decision. But he did wonder if that meant she didn’t truly love Charlie (which was fine, people didn’t have to fall in love to be together, he knew that).

  “I’m not too worried though,” Angie said after a while. They were almost back to the cabin now. “Everything is gonna work out the way it’s meant to, right?”

  Aaron forced a smile and nodded, although his heart felt like it was being pulled into multiple tiny pieces.

  “Yeah,” he agreed.

  Maybe that was true for her, but for him…he didn’t know anymore.

  Aaron didn’t like this.

  He didn’t like this at all.

  June knelt on the bed in front of him, mouth set in a stubborn and tight frown. In his hand was the offensive black sleep mask he’d bought at some point when Aaron wasn’t looking, and no matter how badly Aaron wanted to refuse it, he knew he couldn’t. He’d promised June he would make an effort to get over his fear of the dark, so long as they could stay together, and with things going well again it wasn’t worth the risk of fucking it up.