by Kevin Craig
“What?”
“I think I may have told you my life back there. I know almost nothing about yours. You were saved by Meagan.”
“Right. Guilty. Yeah. Age? Done. Dog’s name? Done. I don’t think I got to my brother. Avery? Did I mention him?”
“Nope.”
“Well, I have a brother. Avery. We’re twins.”
“There’s two of you?” He puts one hand to his heart and starts to exaggeratedly fan himself with the other one. “Look-alike? Or the other kind?”
“Identical.”
Now he’s falling into the grass at my feet. “Oh my God, that’s hot,” he says as he springs to his feet and makes a show of wiping off the grass and dirt.
“Funny.”
“I try, Troy Sinclair. I try. But, seriously? Two of you? Swoon.”
“Thank you, I think.”
“I like you. I don’t want you to save me from my sisters. I just want you to save me.”
“That’s sweet.”
He offers a hand to help me off the wall, and even though I don’t really need help getting off a two-and-a-half-foot wall, I take it. I hop down and scoop up his backpack with my free hand.
“To the albergue.” I point the way because I’m such an expert on the town of O Cebreiro.
“Lead the way.” He releases my hand, and I regret it already.
When we reach the courtyard in front of the albergue, I can already smell the amazing Galician soup.
“Oh, man,” Kei says. “I could literally eat my own arm. It smells so good. I don’t know what I want first, food or a shower.”
“Better take a shower. You might just have time. Probably going to be busy after supper. I already had mine. I don’t like to fight for shower space.”
“I wouldn’t fight you for mine. We could share,” Kei says, and my face burns. “Gotcha. Man, do you blush easy. It’s gonna be fun teasing you.”
We step inside, and I give him directions to the washrooms upstairs and hand him his bag. He goes off in pursuit of his sisters, to check out his sleeping quarters before he takes a shower.
“Whoa, Troy. What is up with that?”
It’s Greg. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. There’s something about his tone I don’t like. I don’t trust him after that night in Cacabelos.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing. Just that you seem to be moving a little fast, is all. Getting your freak on with your new friend?”
“How is that any of your business? We’re just talking. What’s it to you?”
Claire glances up from her journal. When she sees us, she comes over.
“What’s up, Greg?” she asks.
“Nothing. Just talking to Troy about his new boyfriend.”
“Oh, really,” she asks. “Did he tell you he has a new boyfriend?”
“No,” Greg says. “But I have eyes. It’s obvious they’re hot for each other.”
“Really?” I say. The pilgrims around us glance over to see what’s happening. “You’re seriously going to be like that?”
“What? I just asked about your little boyfriend.”
“No,” Claire says. “You’re teasing him.”
“Settle down, Claire. Why is everyone taking everything the wrong way? Stop being so sensitive.”
“Because you mean it the wrong way.” She looks prepared to rip his face off. “We’re used to people like you.”
“People like me? I was just teasing him. I don’t see what the problem—”
“Yeah, you do,” Claire says.
She whips out her phone and starts scrolling through pictures. When she finds what she’s looking for, she turns the screen to him.
“See that,” Claire says. “That’s my girlfriend. Her name’s Zoe. Zoe and I recognize homophobic behavior. People don’t always throw things or hurl slurs. Sometimes, it’s just casual teasing disguised as banter. And when we get angry, they try to laugh it off by saying things like, I was only joking, or, I was just teasing. Or my favorite, stop being so sensitive.”
“Are you calling me a homophobe? Because that’s just not right. I didn’t know you were gay, though, Claire. That’s a shame. You’re kind of cute.”
Claire slaps Greg, and he stumbles backwards. I reach out to break his fall, just in time.
“I’m not here for you,” Claire says. “You don’t even know when you’re insulting people, do you? You’re so offensive.”
“You didn’t have to hit me.” He turns to me, like I’m his friend or something because I broke his fall and saved him from splitting his head open on the stone floor. “She hit me.”
Everyone’s staring, but as I scan the room I don’t see Meagan, Gil, or Bastien. They must still be out on their walk. Thank God. I’m pretty sure physical violence is on their Don’ts list.
“Don’t look at me. You had that coming. You have a long way to go if you think you’re not homophobic. The gays don’t typically enjoy it when you tease them about their sexuality or make weak jokes about their relationships. And here’s a tip, asshole. Don’t insult a lesbian by suggesting she’s missing out on something special with you. What is with straight guys, anyway? You’re so gross.”
He gives me this look that says, what the hell? When I don’t respond, he turns and goes upstairs. I’m not buying his what did I do? crap. He knows.
“Sorry about that,” I say to Claire.
“You have nothing to apologize for, Troy,” she says. “We’re good.”
“But are we?”
“What do you mean?”
“I just want to know, Claire.” I lean over to whisper because I don’t know who might be listening and I wouldn’t want anyone in our group to overhear my question. “Are you going to take off, or what? It’s all I think about when we’re out there walking. I don’t want you to run away. You won’t tell me what’s wrong. There’s no point in running. Don’t you want to see your girlfriend when all this is over?”
“Yeah. I do. But on my terms. And that’s not going to happen. Not ever. My parents wouldn’t allow it. I’m just so tired of the shit in my life. Let’s go outside.”
I scrunch up my face, unsure leaving now would be a good idea.
“It’s okay. We have a few minutes. Come on.”
“Yeah. Okay.” We leave the albergue, and there’s an empty table against the wall of the building right by the entrance, so we sit down.
“What crap do you have, Claire? You have a girlfriend. You’re out at school. That sounds pretty awesome to me.”
“Because you only see a bit of the picture. You don’t see everything. Sure those things are amazing. And Zoe is the best thing that ever happened to me. But, Troy, my life is more than that. We have to hide. We have to have these secret expressions for our love. The lime ones mean I miss you, the orange ones mean kiss kiss, and when we share them it’s nowhere near the same as when our lips actually touch. It’s what we have to settle with. So, there’s that. Don’t you ever feel like escaping?”
She pulls out her ever-present bag of Skittles and pops a few. This time, she offers the bag to me. I only take a few, though, trying to be respectful of her and her girlfriend.
“I’m sorry, but not really,” I say. “Where would I escape to? If something’s bugging you, you can’t just leave it behind. I know ignorance too, Claire. I’ve experienced my fair share. I’m only here because I snapped when I heard one too many gay slurs last semester. I lost it and actually punched a couple of kids. Well, swung hands, anyway. Not exactly a fighter. They taunted me every day for the entire semester. I took it and took it and took it. Until I couldn’t. After I hit them, I threw a chair through the plate glass window that led to the front office. And tore a banner off the wall beside the window.”
With each of the deeds I list, Claire’s mouth opens just a littl
e wider. I continue.
“And I smashed the trophy case. I kicked it in with my Docs, actually. Felt good. But not good enough. Because then I took the team-autographed baseball bat out of the trophy case and proceeded to smash trophies and stuff in the cabinet.”
“Holy crap,” she says. There’s laughter in her eyes. She totally looks impressed.
“I don’t think you have to tell me about people messing with the gays. Greg, in there? He’s not the first and he’s not the worst. And he won’t be the last. I’m trying really hard not to react the way I used to. The problem is theirs, not mine.
“Oh,” I continue, “And I also threw a garbage can at the principal when he tried to stop me. And then I ran out of the school and kicked the first car door I came to. Poor Mrs. Powers, the school secretary, who had just lost her husband. The woman’s like, a hundred and eighty-seven.”
I finish and take a deep breath. Claire’s laughing. “You made half that shit up, didn’t you?”
“Nope. Sorry, but it’s all true. The therapist called it blind rage. The cops called it a whole list of offenses and didn’t care a stink about the therapist’s findings.”
“All new level of respect, Troy. Whoa. Don’t mess with the angry gay. And, you’re a funny guy.”
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you didn’t completely fill me in on what’s bugging you, Claire,” I say. “You don’t have to, but just so you know. I’m here if you ever want to talk about it. Can you please just not run away, though? At least while you’re on the Camino.”
“I can’t promise that. But I can almost promise. I want to fly the coop, Troy. I saw this as a perfect opportunity. Far away enough that maybe they wouldn’t look for me. Or at least they wouldn’t find me. Europe’s a big place.”
“And you’re just talking crazy.”
“Let’s go inside. They must be feeding us soon. I’m starved. It’s going to be dark soon. You got my back with Greg? If he tries to stir shit with Gil and Meagan?”
“Sure,” I say. “That was the first thing I thought of, actually. The lecture. But I don’t think he will. People like him. He won’t want to broadcast his failure.”
I stand up, reach for the door, and hold it open for her. She steps inside, and I follow her. We arrive just in time for Kei to appear, refreshed from his shower. He’s wearing tan shorts and a red tank top and he’s everything I want right now.
“Hey, you.”
“Hi, Kei. Let’s go find a seat.” I can’t take my eyes off of him so I let him find the seat and I follow him to it like a puppy. The aromas that were near crippling to my hungry belly are even more overpowering now. Soon all the peregrinos milling about also take their seats.
The trays of food come from the kitchen one after the other. Soup, salad, chicken, bread. And lots of wine, but not for us. Claire joins us, sitting across the table from Kei.
Diego comes barrelling down the stairs, and he and Shania come and sit beside Claire. The looks on their faces tell me everything I need to know.
Manny is at the very end of the table, talking to some older lady who’s bundled up like it’s the middle of winter. She wears a coat and has a scarf wrapped around her head. They’re having a lively conversation. She pours a glass of wine for Manny from her bottle. He glances over and sees me. He raises a shhh finger to his lips and raises his glass to the woman, and they cheer. And he was the one who said he wasn’t into drinking.
Is it stupid that I feel like these are now my people, my family? I didn’t even realize what I was doing. I’m taking inventory of my group, making sure they’re all present and accounted for.
As we all start reaching for food, I introduce Kei to everyone. The front door opens and Bastien barrels in with Gilbert and Meagan at his heels.
“We eat,” Bastien bellows as he sets his walking stick against the wall and takes a seat at the long makeshift table.
As I look about the room, there’s only one person noticeably missing. Greg. As much as he was an ass, I feel bad he’s not here. I try to concentrate on Kei and the food in front of me, but I need to fix this. I excuse myself from the table.
* * *
I find Greg sitting on his bed, punching the hell out of his pillow. He’s in a blind rage. That I can relate to.
“Oh. Hey, Troy,” he says when he notices me. He actually attempts to sound casual, which is ridiculous. Then he looks away, embarrassed.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Honestly? No. This has been a shit year for me. Getting away from my life was the best part of this so-called punishment. But also the worst.”
“Sounds bad,” I say. I want to say more, be more sympathetic. But I’m still angry. Besides, he should be the one coming to me. He looks at his pillow, like he has just noticed it’s there. He chucks it aside. “My parents, man. They use me as some sort of pawn, me and my little bro. We’re just two more of the possessions they’re constantly fighting over.”
“I didn’t know you had a little brother.”
“You didn’t ask. We haven’t exactly been bonding, Troy. I know you think I’m starting off badly. I mean, I get it. I am. I try to joke around a lot and sometimes I go overboard. I’m pissed off. But it’s not your fault. I don’t know why I keep taking potshots at you. I’m such an asshole.”
“Welllll? That’s pretty much true. I can’t argue with you there.”
“I’m sorry.”
I contemplate his apology. He gets up from his bed and starts to walk toward the door. He signals for me to follow him.
“Really, Troy. I’m sorry. None of my shit is your fault. I’m not usually such a jerk. I’m sorry.”
I follow him to the door. By the sounds coming from downstairs, I can tell supper is now in full swing. Time to get down there.
“You should probably apologize to Claire. You went way too far.”
He covers his face with his hand and shakes his head. “Man, I am unstoppable. Monumental.”
“Assholes are sometimes like that,” I say. He looks hurt for a split second, but then sees the half-smirk on my face. We stop in the hallway before heading downstairs.
“This has been the year of the divorce in my world,” Greg says. “My parents spent the entire year dividing their empire. My brother? He has special needs. And he’s adopted and already had a messed-up start. So he’s not taking the chaos so well. The only thing that kid ever wanted was stability. A place to belong. My parents gave him that. And they used to be pretty passionate about it, about making sure Robbie felt safe and wanted and a part of us. Until they didn’t. When they fell apart, it’s almost like they forgot how to be parents. Forgot how much Robbie needed saving.”
“That sucks so much, Greg,” I say. “I’m really sorry. But I gotta say, as bad as it is, I don’t see why you think it gives you an excuse to pick on the two queer kids. I can’t figure out if you’re homophobic, an asshole, a bully… or all three.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I get it. I promise you, though, I’m not homophobic. I don’t expect you to believe me. I’d think the same thing. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Or Claire.”
“You saw us as the weakest links and you struck. That seriously sucks. Do you see that, at least?”
“Yeah. No excuse. I don’t know what to say.”
I’m getting angry all over again. “Don’t say anything, Greg. Just be better.” The noise downstairs pulls me in. I’m still so hungry. “We need to get down there before there’s no food left. Truce? For now?”
“Thanks, Troy. I’ll try not to be such a jerk.”
“Don’t try, man.” I’m not going to be a pushover. “I will call you on your crap every time. Stop thinking it’s okay to tease queer kids. We’ve had enough. Oh, and you owe Claire a huge apology.”
“I know.” He looks downstairs. “It’s the first thing on my list.”
“Let
’s go eat. I’m starving. And it smells so good.”
“I hear that,” Greg says. We finally make our way downstairs.
Chapter 25 — Diego Nelson
We had to promise we wouldn’t get “into mischief” tonight before Gil and Meagan would let us go out. Easy. I just want to be out here holding Shania’s hand, stealing a few kisses, and thinking about home and my grandmother. Not interested in anything else.
“Where to?” Manny asks. We’re all standing around waiting for someone to make a suggestion. I can’t believe we all want to spend our free time walking around in the dark, when we already spent the entire day walking.
“How about this way?” Troy says. Not like it matters which way we go. He leads the way as we set off to explore the little village. I’m pretty sure we’ll cover the entire place in about two minutes.
Troy brought his new friend Kei with him. He seems nice enough.
“I know the plan was to escape the adults, but I kind of miss not spending time with Bastien tonight,” Shania says. I couldn’t agree more. I don’t know what I would have done without him last night. “I mean, it’s kind of lame walking around. Didn’t we already do this? Like, all day?”
“Get out of my head. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“Sure you were, Diego. Right.”
“No, really.” We’re holding hands, and it wasn’t even like it was a decision or anything. We just stepped outside, and I took her hand and that was it.
“So, you two an item now?” Manny tries to butt in between us. He’s skipping around like he’s on fire. Then he leans against my back like he’s trying to get a piggyback. Troy said Manny drank wine at dinner. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s a little lit. He’s sure acting like it.
“I don’t know. Mind getting off my back, dude? Don’t want you to take us with you when you fall flat on your face and break your neck.”
“No. I’m good,” he says. “Just a little shine.” He laughs this maniacal laugh, but he lets go. Shania shushes him, because this town is dead. It looks like everyone who lives here goes to bed at eight. Manny makes his way to Troy and Kei. New victims.