by Avery Aster
He was so matter-of-fact. I’d never met a molestation victim before. If I was at a loss for words with Leon a few minutes before, then I was most certainly at one with Diego’s confession.
I didn’t know what to say or do, so I slid my hands deep into my coat pockets and replied, “I’m sorry to hear that, Diego. It must’ve been a nightmare for you. Did you ever tell anyone?”
“Only my parents.”
“Why did you reveal this to me?” My voice broke in surprise.
“Cause…I like you, Blake. I have since the first day we met. I’m comfortable around you. And after spending more time with you today…I feel like I’ve known you my entire life.”
Upon hearing that, a warming sensation ran through my body. “Me, too.”
“And I’m not at home anymore. I’m at college. My uncle can’t hurt me. I’m not a boy anymore, either. I’m a man and I’m strong.
He certainly was a strong man. It all made sense why he lifted so much weight at the gym. He probably had to defend himself as a kid.
“You can talk to me anytime you want to.”
“Gracias... Are you the friend in the group everyone tells their darkest secrets to?”
I nodded in confirmation. That was as true as the Earth was round. The girls always shared their greatest victories and worst nightmares with me.
At times it had been overwhelming, especially with their mood swings and PMS, but in the long run it had bonded me to them like glue. “Have you ever asked your uncle why he did what he did?”
“Can the evil in this world ever explain their actions?”
I shook my head and replied, “I guess not.”
“Years later, when I figured out I was gay and told my papá about what my uncle had done to me, he confronted him. My uncle denied it ever happened. Called me a liar. Told me not to blame him for my sexual orientation.”
I let out the air which was caught in my throat. “Did you blame him for being gay?”
“I don’t know. Pedophilia and homosexuality aren’t related.”
“No, they are not. Just because one molests a child of the same sex does not mean he is a homosexual. He’s just a sick bastard.” I hesitated for a minute before adding, “Before the fall semester, I took a few summer classes to get my feet wet. Anyways…one of them was Intro to Psychology. We had a guest speaker one day on the minds of predators.”
“What did the expert say?”
“That even when we’re little boys, there’s an innate goodness to us. And those who prey on children take advantage of their vulnerability.”
“That’s an interesting way to look at it...”
“That’s the only way to look at it.”
I reached for his hand and we sat on the curb for a second. The tail of my coat prevented my backside from touching the cement. A chill ran up my spine, but I managed. I couldn’t let this go. It scared me and fascinated me all the same. So I asked, “Does your mom know about your uncle?”
He put his arm on my leg in a possessive gesture and said, “When I got older, I told her, only because I thought I had brought it on myself.” He paused for a minute, chewed his lower lip then said, “She smacked me across the face. Called me a liar just like my papá. We didn’t talk for a week. When you’re a kid that feels like a year.” His voice was distant, as if talking about something that had happened to someone else and not himself. Maybe that was how he was able to survive. I couldn’t imagine what coping skills one would use to move forward.
Hearing that made my heart break for Diego.
“Sounds like you had a rough childhood…”
“That’s an understatement.” He rose in one fluid motion. “We should head back to the waiting room. It’s getting cold.”
“Yeah. Taddy will be released soon,” I said, feeling hopeful.
When the doctor told us my BFF wasn’t going to be released until the morning, Diego took a cab back to the dorms and I along with Birdie, Lex and Vive waited. We couldn’t think of leaving her there alone.
Taddy came home with us the following morning.
Birdie put us all in her stretch limo and took us from First Avenue up to the Sherry Netherland where Taddy roomed with Vive and Hedda.
To celebrate Vive getting accepted into Columbia University, the Farnworth’s had purchased her a penthouse earlier that year. The sticker-price on the Fifth Avenue, full-floor, 7,000 square feet home was around one hundred million dollars.
I know!
With south-facing views of the Plaza Hotel and the Empire State Building, Mr. Farnworth had declared it a bargain. Coming from a classic colonial-style home in Fairfield, it was, in my opinion, over-the-frickin’-top-fabulous.
We ordered omelets from Taddy’s favorite restaurant, Daniel’s. Lex closed the heavy damask drapes while Vive turned down the lights in the bedroom and lit candles.
After we ate, I crawled up next to Taddy in the queen-size bed. I pulled the ivory sheets up to her chin. They felt soft in my hands. Hedda was spread out on a nearby pillow.
“Thanks,” she murmured. Her bright red nose appeared sensitive from blowing it so much.
“I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am and that I love you. You’re like a sister to me. If ever I were to lose you…I couldn’t go on.”
“Ditto.” She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Thank you for being there, Blake.”
“That’s my job in life, to be there for you.” Laying there for a minute, listening to her breathing, she smelled of tuberose. It reminded me of happier times. “Do you want me to call your parents?”
She rolled her jade green eyes. “They won’t care. You know that. Birdie talked to my aunt. You talked to Leon. There’s no one else to tell. He’s coming, isn’t he?”
I nodded. “Should be here in a day or so.” I leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “I should get going.”
“Tell Thor to take notes for me in our World Culture class,” she ordered as if getting some of her energy back. “I’ll return to class at the end of the week.”
“Of course. And I’ll have my notes for you from our marketing class. Vive can give you her worksheets from Calculus.” I gave Hedda a love pat on the head.
She giggled. “I don’t want Vive’s notes. You know how she is in school.”
Vive balked from the other bedroom down the hall. “Hello! I can hear you two. I’ll have you know I’m very good at math. It’s Lex who can’t add or subtract her way out of a candy store.”
We all laughed in a full-hearted sound. Hedda sat up and barked. It felt good. For a minute, I was worried I’d never hear that again.
After saying my goodbyes, I walked from Fifth Avenue through Central Park up to the campus on the Upper West Side. The commute took about forty minutes. The morning sun shone from the east, creating a bright light over the ground of the previous week’s snowfall which had yet to melt.
I needed to decompress and think. So much had happened in the last two days. We’d gotten sick. Taddy had miscarried. Then Diego had told me about his uncle. My stomach was in knots.
With only ten blocks to go, just as my feet hit Broadway, my cell rang. The screen lit up: MOM.
“Hi,” I answered, walking briskly. The cold was starting to get to me.
“Son, I’m so glad you picked up,” she said as in a panicked tone.
“Good morning,” I greeted again, trying my best to keep a calm voice.
“Where are you?”
“Walking, outside.”
“Uh-huh…Blake Morgan the third. Cut the crap.”
“What?” Oh, God, please tell me she doesn’t have a clue as to what went down. If she found out about Glamorama, I’m dead.
“In the last twenty-four hours, Thor has called our house twice looking for you. He sounds frantic, which has made me upset. That of course has caused your father to be…on edge.”
“Oh my…”
“Are you okay, boy?”
“Sorry, Mom. I’m fine. I was st
udying. We have mid-terms. I lost track of time and pulled an all-nighter at Vive’s.” Usually I never lied to my mother, but why make her worry?
“You don’t sound fine. I can tell there’s somethin’ the matter. Talk to me, boy.”
“Nothing…is the matter, Mom. I’m just stressed.” That was the truth.
“You’ll be coming home in a few weeks for Christmas. You can unwind then...”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“Is Taddy still coming with you?” She seemed to calm down as we continued to talk.
“Yes, where else would she go?” I replied, thinking about how the weeks’ nightmare would soon be behind us.
Taddy usually spent Christmas or Thanksgiving with me, Easter with Lex and Birdie, and the summer holidays with Vive’s parents. I couldn’t imagine the winter holidays without my Brill girl.
“I can’t wait to see you two. Your father is looking forward to Christmas this year, too. He’s convinced that we’re going to win the city’s holiday light show.”
“He’s still putting the decorations up this year?”
Since I was in college, I’d thought he would’ve scaled back. With over 75,000 lights adorning the property, residents had driven from all over the state, as far away as Norwich to see my father’s creation. Think the Griswold’s meets Martha Stewart. That was the Morgan’s house during the holidays. Dad was a very proud man.
“Ah-huh. He’s been working on it since Halloween. As always, our electric bill is already stratospheric.”
I burst out in a chuckle of happy memories which caused the two elderly Upper West Side women walking next to me to twist their necks and glare in my direction. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, son.” She paused for a second then said, “You’re lucky, you know that?”
“How so?” I didn’t feel it.
“Honey, you have all these Manhattanites who care about you. Heck, you go missing for a few hours and Thor panics and calls us.”
“That’s because Thor’s a drama queen, Mother,” I exclaimed with a twinge of sarcasm.
She laughed infectiously. “Yes, he is. But he adores you. They all do. That makes me less anxious about you being away at school in that city.”
“Dad and you are only a two-hour drive.”
“With traffic, it’s three hours,” she corrected. “You’re a world away.”
A born and bred New Englander, Mom had wanted me and the girls to attend Yale. Taddy had begged for us to go west to Pepperdine in California, but Lex and Vive won. They both wanted Manhattan. I couldn’t blame them. Although, the mere thought of being on the Malibu campus right then—as I froze my butt off—sure sounded good.
“It feels like a different world, that’s for sure.”
“All right, I’ll let you get back to your studies. But before you go, I have one question to ask you, son.”
Damn. I knew it was coming. I braced myself and muttered, “Okay…”
“Your father saw on the news somethin’ about a nightclub and a bunch of teenagers getting roofied. Were any of your older friends—you know, the seniors, who are of legal age—there that night?”
And there it was…the dreaded question.
Years of experience as being her son had told me that she already knew the answer to her own question. After all, my mother was a mastermind when it came to rhetoric communication. Never mind the fact that she had some weird ESP powers where she always knew when I’d gotten myself into trouble without me even having to tell her. It freaked me out!
Regardless, I had to get to my dorm, get ready for class, and I honestly didn’t want to make her worry, so for the first time in my new adult life, I omitted the truth and replied, “No, Mom. I gotta go. I love you. Hugs to Dad.”
And hung up.
I felt horrible. But it was for her own good. The less she knows, the better off she’ll be. Right?
“Hey, bitch,” Thor greeted me in an unusually extra-sassy tone as I walked into the door.
Our dorm room was almost the same size as Diego’s and Miguel’s, but decorated in purple, Thor’s favorite color. He believed one had to brand their life in a theme of varying hues. Personally, I’d never heard of such a thing, but he’d talked Taddy into taking up the color red.
He’d told me once when we first met, “The Edwards are practically American royalty. Sure there’s there are the Kennedys, du Ponts, Hearsts, Rockefellers, and Waltons, but none of them have as much money as us. So purple, being a royal color, must always be incorporated into my life.”
Isn’t that fascinating?
From our drapes, to the bedspreads, and even our lampshades, had a shade of grape, violet, lavender, and mulberry everywhere.
Seriously. It was enough to make ‘ya barf.
He was folding his clothes and organizing his shoes. Throwing a sneaker into a box, he wiped a tear from his eyes and shouted, “I thought you were dead! I texted everyone in the city we knew. I called the hospital. I saw the stinkin’ news. Poppy White—you know, my galpal who has her own TV show—said she heard from Sissy St. John, who heard from her older brother Beau that you had indeed snuck into Glamorama, that you were all rave-dancing with your shirts off, and that you’d overdosed. Then I started calling your family. I totally freaked the fudge out. I needed to talk to you.” Out of breath, he flailed a piece of paper in the air. “Look! I was just starting to write your eulogy!”
Trying hard not to roll my eyes because I didn’t want to set him off even more than he already was, I gave him a reassuring smile.
“I know, my mom told me. I apologize for making you worry. Truly sorry.” I filled him in on the girls, and the events at the hospital, as I grabbed my books from the shelf.
He seemed more annoyed than concerned, which was odd because Thor had the biggest heart of gold of anyone I knew. Something else was bothering him…
Studying him, I tried to figure out why he was so irked.
He wasn’t easy to talk to. Not like the girls. That was probably why he wasn’t part of the inner clique. Thor could be cunty. And I mean that with love. With a tongue which could cut Taddy’s in half, he didn’t put up with Lex’s crybaby ways; he had more money than Vive’s family, and was a threat to the girls. Thor didn’t need them and they didn’t want him, so it sorta left their friendship in a casual place. Closer than acquaintances but not quiet besties, the only one in the group who could really stand Thor, other than myself, was Vive. I think that was because they were so much alike.
“Last night, I stayed at the hospital and the night before that, I was at Diego’s.”
“Did he fuck you?” he asked in a snippy tone.
“Nope.” An unfamiliar wave of disappointment came through me. God, how I wished I’d had the chance. “He wanted me to fuck him, though.”
“I never would’ve pegged you for a top, but hey, gurl, if the shoe fits, wear it.” He tossed the other sneaker into the box and wiped his face on his sweater.
Eyeing him, I zipped up my backpack thinking he was in rare form right then. “Is that why you’re so upset? Because I stayed with Diego?”
“Ha! It’s not always about you, bitch.”
“I didn’t say it was. But clearly, something is bothering you.” I shrugged to show my confusion.
“Damn right something is bothering me.”
Glancing around the room, I realized he wasn’t getting ready for his day of studies, but was moving out. “Thor, why are you packing?”
“I’m withdrawing from school. I’m going to take some time off and regroup. Maybe go to St. Barth’s.”
“Why?” Although the Caribbean sure sounded good right about then, I didn’t understand.
“Gurl, you know I hate the winters in the city. They’re too cold. My skin gets dry and chapped.” He had a stubborn look on his face.
I walked over to him, my patience fading. Yanking the box from his hands, I raised my voice. “Tell me what the frick is goin’ on.”
&
nbsp; Near the edge of the bed, he stood still as a statue. The copper-colored hair which he’d recently died from black to red seemed wet, sweaty. His well-groomed appearance was incongruous with his perspiration.
“Were you at the gym?”
“No.” His hands rested on his hips.
“Why are you sweating so much?” It wasn’t like Thor to perspire. Quaffed as if he worked for the style section at the New York Times, usually the man was matte from head to toe.
“I’m sick…” His voice—unlike I’d ever heard before—dropped in volume.
He’d had the flu for a few weeks, hence why he didn’t go out dancing with us the other night.
“Thought you went to the infirmary.”
“I did. They referred me to a specialist.”
I wasn’t liking the sound of this. Taking a seat on the edge of my bed, I waited for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, I removed my sneakers, then my socks, and asked, “Well…let’s hear it. What’s wrong with you? It had better not be Mono.”
When we were at Avon Porter, Taddy had gotten mononucleosis. Poor thing was sick as a dog for months.
“That I got it.” He blinked nervously.
“Got what?”
“The…bug.” He ground the words out between his teeth.
“You mean the flu that’s going around?”
“No. I have HIV.” A faint thread of hysteria came from the back of his throat.
His words, clear as the morning sun in Central Park, made my already anxious-mind spin into overdrive.
Fuck no!
The Death of Fear
Upper West Side, the dorms
There are those moments in life where you feel as though someone just pushed you off the top of the Empire State Building, and you’re falling straight for the pavement. That’s how I felt as I repeated the dreaded acronym, “HIV.”
“Yup. That’s what the medical community calls it.” His left brow raised a fraction.
We sat in silence for a second. The space heater in the corner made a humming noise. I could hear the kids down the hall laughing in a jovial way about something.
