Finding Joy

by Adriana Herrera

  Elias kept driving in silence, and after a while turned to me. “Will you play something for us?” His face looked so sad. Like he could see all my fucked-up feelings and insecurities. I needed to talk to Elias, let him know why I had acted the way I did. I could’ve said something then, apologized or at least hinted at the fact that I knew I’d been wrong. But I chickened out.

  “I’ll put something on,” I said grabbing my iPhone. I scrolled through the music until I found a blues playlist I’d downloaded for him. I hit play, and the unmistakable notes of “Mannish Boy” by Muddy Waters broke through the humming of the truck.

  Then something happened that felt like seeing the sun come out after days of rain: he smiled at me. The first real smile I’d seen in what felt like weeks. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

  I nodded and smiled back as we both settled in with the music and rode home. And when the gravelly coming through the speakers told us everything would be all right, I almost believed it.

  It was dark by the time we got back to the lodge. As soon as we parked, Elias jumped out and started unloading the truck. I went around to ask if he needed help, but he waved me off.

  “There are just a few things. I’ll be done in a minute. Go shower.”

  I hesitated, unsure if it was the right time to say something, but decided to oblige him. I walked into the main lodge, hoping to get a few bottles of water for my room. I was surprised to find Bonnie by the front desk. We weren’t expecting her for a couple more days, and by the looks of it, neither was the lodge. Her face was a study in resignation when I walked up to her, but she lit up once she saw me.

  “Hey! How’s it going? I hope my arrival isn’t an issue. I can just ride along on whatever you’re doing for the next couple of days. If I can get a room to sleep in, that is!”

  I waved her off, genuinely happy to see her. “Of course it’s not an issue. Glad to have you with us. Is there a problem with your room?”

  She looked over her shoulder at the disgruntled front desk clerk, then back at me. She was decked out in one of her many tunic and jeans combos, but this time she was wearing heavy-duty hiking boots instead of Birkens, her white hair in its usual messy topknot.

  She spared another look for the man at the front desk, who was tapping helplessly on the keyboard. “I knew it would be ill-advised to head down here early, but I figured they could make it work for a couple of nights. Unfortunately, it seems they’re not only full for the next few days, but they double-booked the room I was supposed to have when I arrived on Sunday. They won’t have a room for me until Wednesday.”

  “Is there another place in town you could go until then?”

  She made me a face at my question. “Oh no, this is not my first rodeo.” With that she turned back to the front desk, obviously ready for another round. I was about to offer to share my room, I only had one bed though. It wasn’t a big deal for me, but I knew Bonnie needed her space.

  She was in a heated discussion with the clerk when I put my hand on her shoulder, interrupting the exchange. “Hey Bonnie, why don’t you just take my room? I can ask one of the other guys if I can crash with them. No big.”

  The thought of having to room with Sam made a shiver of apprehension run down my spine, but I was willing to suffer for a few days.

  Bonnie perked up at my suggestion and glanced at the clerk, who was looking at me like I had just rescued a small village. “Are you sure? Because I’ll take it. I’m not gonna do the ‘Oh, you shouldn’t, I don’t want to put you out’ bullshit. I will take the damn room and leave you to your own devices.”

  I really liked this woman. “Yes, I’m sure,” I said with a laugh.

  At that moment Elias walked in. Bonnie’s face lit up and she greeted him with the Ethiopian double kiss and double embrace. “As always, Elias, you’re right on time. I did it again!” She threw her hands in the air while Elias grinned at her antics. “I decided to come early, and now I don’t have a place to sleep.”

  He smiled at her with affection while she waved her hand in my direction.

  “Thankfully, Desta here has gallantly offered me his room. I, of course, accepted before he could take it back, but now he’s roomless. Can he bunk with you? I think you got one of the doubles when we reserved, right? It’ll be tight, but—”

  Before she could finish, Elias shrugged and said with the most nonchalant face I had ever seen, “Sure.” Then he turned to me and asked, “Is it fine for you, Desta?”

  I swallowed hard, twice. I nodded, trying not to let my panic show as I walked to the door of the lodge. The only thing that came out of my mouth was, “I’ll get my stuff.”

  Chapter 22

  I walked into Elias’s room and immediately noticed it had one big bed with a smaller cot to the side. At least it appeared like two people could sleep here. I looked back at him as he leaned against the door, his arms crossed in front of his chest, but he was not offering any conversation at the moment.

  The room was…small. I knew Abraham, Yohannes, and some of the other staff had decided to stay in cheaper lodgings so they could save some of their per diem. Elias had opted to stay here, though. Now I wondered if he’d done it to be closer to me, just to have me act like a brat toward him all week.

  We stood there, unable to bridge the distance my actions had put between us. I hated myself for starting this. After I put down my bag by the bathroom door, I turned and tried to school my face into a friendly expression. “So! This is awkward.”

  He didn’t even crack a smile. He moved to the bigger bed, sat on the edge, and said in a distant but clear tone, “I can go into town and get a room there. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

  His voice completely lacked inflection, like he’d stripped all emotion from anything he had to say to me. He didn’t look hurt. He didn’t even look angry. He was simply indifferent, and that was so much worse.

  “I’m not uncomfortable with you. I know I’ve been a little distant this week—”

  He scoffed as if saying understatement of the year, and I couldn’t blame him. I had done a complete one-eighty on him. Had changed my mind so fast I had given myself whiplash.

  I sighed and sat on the floor in front of his spot on the bed. “This is so stupid, Elias. I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole this week. Now that I’m here sitting with you after this afternoon, when I once again saw the kind of man you obviously are, I feel so frivolous and ridiculous for shutting you out because of my own insecurities.”

  He was looking at me like I baffled him, and right now, not at all in a good way. “Desta, I don’t understand what happened. One moment things were going so well, and the next you acted like I was a stranger. If I did something to offend you—or worse, hurt you—I’m sorry. But the way you treated me? I didn’t deserve that.”

  My face burned from humiliation. He was right. He hadn’t deserved that. For all that I agonized about not wanting to put my baggage on other people, I’d done just that, and during a time when he’d needed me to be a friend.

  I opened my mouth to say I was sorry, but instead I overshared.

  “I didn’t want to add to what you were already dealing with. Your dad is sick, and you’ve got all kinds of decisions to make.” I lifted my hands up, not sure where I was going with my rambling. “And then there’s the fact that it’s not even safe for you to be doing this. I didn’t want to make your life harder.”

  He exhaled and grabbed at his curls the way I’d seen him do whenever a conversation got intense. “So instead of telling me that, you shut me out and took away my choices? You don’t have to save me from myself or otherwise, Desta.”

  With every word out of this mouth, I felt more and more ashamed of how I’d acted. He looked up at the pointed ceiling of the cottage and took a long breath before he continued. “You know what hurt the most about Byron?”

  I shook my head, but he was still looking up. “It wasn’t the ugly things he said. It was that he thought he knew better than me. That
he believed I couldn’t decide on my own what I did and didn’t want.” He lowered his eyes to me then, and I felt sorry for putting the hurt in them. “You don’t think I know the risks? That this has never come up for me?”

  “Of course you do.”

  The laugh he let out was brittle and jaded, and I wanted the earth to swallow me up. “I know exactly what it meant to reach for you. To make love to you. The risks I was taking. But I took them anyway because I wanted you. Because I thought you could see me and want me without turning me into something you had to save.”

  That cut the deepest because I deserved it.

  “I’m so fucking sorry, Elias.” It seemed like such a trite thing to say. “That sounds so stupid.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Figuring out what to say. How to say it. “Since I’ve been with you, I’ve begun to wonder how much longer I can go on keeping all these secrets. You’ve made think very hard about how I want to live from now on.” He sighed. “I had news to tell you when I arrived from Addis. When you barely spoke to me, it hurt.”

  I was such an ass. “Elias, I don’t even know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to keep apologizing.” He still held his body uncomfortably, as if he didn’t want to get too close. “I want to know that you see me as your equal.”

  “Of course I see you like that,” I protested.

  “Then give me the chance to decide for myself what I can and cannot have.”

  We stayed there for a minute, not saying anything. He’d had good news to share with me and my behavior had ruined it for him. I leaned closer and looked at him, hoping he could see how terrible I felt. “Is it too late to tell me now?”

  He let out a long breath and ran his hand through his hair, pulling on the ends again. “I’ve contacted Columbia to confirm my attendance this fall.”

  I snapped my head up, unable to hide huge the smile that broke on my face. “You decided? What changed?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “It’s too big of an opportunity to pass up.”

  I wasn’t disappointed when he didn’t say I’d been part of the reason. I wasn’t that delusional. But I was sad I’d tainted the moment for both of us.

  “It’s an amazing opportunity.” I meant it, and my head filled with the possibilities of what it could mean for both of us.

  “I don’t know if I could live with myself if I didn’t go. But it’s scary, because I know if I leave, it may be for good.” The agony in his face was complete. “I want so very much to be strong enough to come back and work on changing the things that need changing, but I’m feeling selfish.”

  He shook his head hard, his tight curls swaying with the force of his movements. “It’s unfair that I have to choose between living openly as a gay man and living in my country. Because before anything else, I am Ethiopian. This place, this land is at the core of who I am, and it pains me to admit my relief when I thought about not having to hide anymore.”

  I was disgusted with myself for having made an already terrible situation for Elias even worse. I was also feeling for him. Though I could never fully understand his situation, I could empathize with the struggle of choosing himself over something he loved.

  I got on my knees and took his hand. “Elias,” I said, my voice hoarse with emotion. “I’m sorry this decision has to be so hard for you. You’re right. It isn’t fair, but you never know—maybe with time and distance you’ll be in a better position to change things. You should be so proud of yourself. It’s a huge accomplishment.”

  He was starting to smile, his hand tightly holding mine. I was desperate to relieve the tension of the last few minutes, so I went with something I knew would at least amuse him. “Betam Gobez.”

  Elias chuckled at my horrible attempt at telling him he was clever in Amharic. I looked down, trying not to make too much of the change in the mood. Trying not to ruin it by doing something that was unwelcome.

  Then I felt Elias’s fingers caress the side of my face. I pushed into his touch, almost ready to sob from the contact. I missed his hands on me. His warmth. The way he was firm and gentle at the same time. Elias’s touch made everything so much simpler.

  “Elias,” I said, breathlessly as our eyes locked.

  “Can I kiss you, konjo?”

  I didn’t answer, just stood and climbed onto his lap. He immediately grabbed me roughly.

  “Desta.” My name coming out of his mouth sounded like a prayer. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you too.” I pushed my body against his, holding his face between my hands before going in for a kiss. Our tongues tangled together, bodies pressed tightly. I rocked my hips against him, and I could feel him harden. I reveled at being able to touch him like this. To run my hands over his warm skin. To feel him react to me.

  I shuddered out a breath as I pulled back for some air. Elias’s fingers were digging into my flesh like he never wanted to let me go. I laid my head on his shoulder, pressing my lips to his neck. “I’m sorry I pushed you away.”

  He shook his head as he moved us, dislodging me from his lap for a moment so we could move farther up the bed. He sat with his back to the headboard and I climbed right back on his lap, huffing as I got comfortable again. “This is where I want to be.”

  He laughed, but then his face got serious again. “Konjo, next time you’re feeling like you want some distance, please tell me what you’re thinking first. At least give me the chance to decide for myself.”

  I nodded, rattled by how scared I’d been when I thought I’d done something unforgivable. Elias had made such a huge decision this week: he was going to leave his country, the people he loved, and everything he knew, in the hope of finding a place where he could be himself. “You’re so brave. I wish I could be that strong.”

  He squeezed me tight as I spoke. “You are brave. Look at what you’ve done, the work you do all over the world. Going to places so far away without hesitation and doing hard things. Coming here because it was important to your father and your mother. All those things are brave.”

  I shrugged off his compliments. “It doesn’t feel brave. It feels like hiding. The longer I avoid telling my mother I don’t want to do this work anymore, the longer I avoid dealing with the possibility that maybe social work in the States won’t fulfill me either. That I’m not suited for any of this.”

  Elias leaned back so he could look at me. “I’ve been working for Aid USA for almost five years and I’ve seen dozens of international consultants come through here. None of them have been as respectful and thoughtful in doing their work as you. All the local staff have mentioned how much they’ve liked working with you.”

  My chest warmed at his words and the sincerity with which he said them. “Thank you for that.”

  “You’re welcome, but it’s the truth.”

  We held each other for a while longer, and I looked at him again. “Is your dad really doing better?” Since the chat with Tsehay the other night, I’d wondered if there was more going on that I didn’t know.

  The way Elias brought me closer to him before he spoke told me I was right. “My dad has severe anxiety. It’s always been manageable—with its ups and downs, of course—but his heart condition in recent years has really exacerbated it. When he’s very stressed, he starts feeling ill, and then becomes terrified he’s dying. We take him to the hospital so he can get checked out.”

  I took one of the hands he’d fastened across my chest and held it. “That can’t be easy for any of you.”

  He lifted a shoulder, his face resigned. “There’s a lot of stigma around mental illness here, so he won’t even consider getting help for any of it.” He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. “The ironic part is that it’s my profession, you know? I could help him get some care, but he says people will think he’s crazy or weak.”

  I nodded sadly. “I can’t imagine how hard it is for you to see your dad suffer like that,” I said, looking up at his face, which had been happy
a minute ago and now was marred with worry. “Things are changing in the States, but there is still a lot to do when it comes to mental illness. It’s not taken nearly as seriously as it should be. Society acts like it’s just something people should be able to ‘get over.’ It’s fucking ridiculous.”

  Elias exhaled, and I could feel the tension in his shoulders. “It’s affected my family a lot. My dad is a pianist, but he stopped working or making music when I was in elementary school. Said he couldn’t do it anymore.” He shrugged, but I could tell how all this weighed on him. “My mom supported the family, for the most part. It’s too hard for him to stay in a job, so he feels useless because he doesn’t contribute financially to the home, though none of us care about that. He took great care of us growing up while my mom worked, but it’s hard for him to see that.”

  I listened to him as I ran my hands up and down his thighs, which were on either side of mine, wanting to ease what was clearly painful for him. “I imagine there’s also the issue of the expectation for him to go to work and provide for the family.”

  Elias nodded, holding me tighter. “Exactly. He always says he’s grateful for my mom, but I think he also resents the situation. When he’s really low, he becomes obsessed with the idea that he’s dying, and my mom either believes it or goes along with it to appease him. It’s a vicious cycle.” He gave a tired sigh. “That’s part of the reason why I deferred from Columbia. I didn’t want to leave her to deal with it on her own. My sister was living in Kenya for a few years and just came back. With her around, my mom has more support, and I can go to New York.”

  That explained so much. I wanted to say more to ease his mind, but I had no idea what, if anything, could help. Still, I had to say something. “I know it may not be of much comfort now, but I think you made the right decision. This is too big of a chance to pass up, and you’ve earned it.”