Life Begins

by Jack Gunthridge

  I would come to depend on this relationship over the next few months. When the actual divorce proceedings started, Christine was sent away to a Catholic school. Her parents felt that this was for the best. They knew that this was going to get ugly. I think it was the first time they had actually thought about Christine.

  I was not going to be one to just let Christine go without a fight. I went to my father and asked him to intervene. He became their divorce lawyer. I'm not sure on all of the details, but Christine got custody of the house. Her parents would take turns living with her.

  Three months, two weeks, and four days after Christine had been sent to the Catholic school, she came back home. Not that I was keeping track of the time or anything. You can add six hours and thirty-four minutes to that time if you want to be entirely accurate. I didn’t really care about keeping track of the seconds. They are kind of like pennies. Most people don’t think about them because they are so small, but they add up to a lot before you realize it.

  ~~~

  The night Jack got his facts of life talk, I also had a discussion with his father. I asked him if my coming over was going to cause him to get a divorce, too. He told me that Jack loved me. That made me his daughter-in-law. That made me family. He said that if I ever needed anything or to talk to anybody, their house would always be open to me. That was a great comfort as I was eventually sent off.

  The Catholic school was torture. There weren't any cute boys. Kind of defeated school girl outfits really. I mean, I made that thing look good.

  My parents were both Catholic. They never went to church, except for Easter and Christmas. They held off on the divorce for so long because of the belief that divorce was an abomination to God. Apparently it was better for them to cheat on each other while pretending to be happily married. That is better in God's eyes.

  I have never had much use for the Church. They pick and choose which laws they are going to follow. They condemn some people for one sin and ignore another person's sin. I figure that it is kind of like being able to flirt your way out of a ticket with a cop. I don't think God is like that.

  If I were ever to have a religion, I would belong to Jack's. The only problem is that he doesn't have an identifiable religion. His father was Jewish. His mother was raised Catholic. She rebelled as a teenager and left the Church. Somehow they ended up going to a Protestant church. Jack's religion is a combination of Jewishness and Protestantism. He says that it puts him in conflict with both religions while bringing him closer to God.

  I keep trying to get Jack to believe that I belong to the First Church of Jack Gynapsy. He doesn't believe me that if he keeps sparing his rod, he's going to spoil this child. Whatever. He will come my way someday. He will be like he was that night that I got back from the Catholic school.

  As soon as I got home from the Catholic school, Jack was very glad to see me. There was a passion about his kisses.

  I knew that he was the one who secured my freedom from that dreaded Catholic school. He was like a knight in shining armor who had just rescued the princess locked up in the tower.

  We found ourselves in the old tree house where we used to play house as kids. There was a warmth to his kisses. I don't think I have ever loved him more than I did at that moment. There was something different about him. I got lost in his kisses.

  There was a newness to his touches. I wasn't sure what was about to happen, but I knew that I wanted it to happen. I felt like I was in the hands of a master. I trusted him completely as he started to undress me and caress me. There was nothing wrong with what we were about to do.

  Everything was going to be different now. I wouldn't have to worry about my parents fighting anymore. Jack was going to always be living across the street from me. It was okay for us to be in love. He had fought and had won a new life for us. We were in charge now. The future was ours.

  Just as our future was about to be realized, Jack's mom came out yelling for him. His father had died in a car crash.

  ~~~

  Christine wants to paint that night as something special. I left her alone in the tree house. She was naked except for the Catholic school girl socks. I had no idea what I was doing. I was just doing what I felt. I was willing to make a commitment like my father had told me about.

  I wasn't ready for that commitment. I was carried away by my passions and lost all of my sense of reasoning. I still can not get Christine to understand this. I think she has been trying to get me to release that passion again ever since.

  That passion is dangerous. While it is good to be passionate about things, we should never become slaves to our passions. I am passionate about Christine, and would like nothing more than to make love to her. What she is wanting is sex. She wants it raw and animalistic.

  Part of our current problem is that we have different terms for going all the way. For her it is following our passions to complete orgasm. Going all the way for me is being there with her not just for sex, but in the bad times as well. I want to be there to pull her hair back as she throwing up. She then tells me that I can start practicing now by pulling her hair back as she sucks me dry. If she happens to gag in the process, then we could both be happy.

  Would we have had sex that night? I think so, if my father had not died. Should we have had sex? I don't know. Life was so much different back then. I don't know what life would be like now if my father had not died. I know that his death stopped us from having sex that night.

  Looking back as an adult and considering everything else that happened between me and Christine, this night no longer seems as important as it once did. It is still part of our story, but age and distance have changed it for me.

  Right now I am happy with my life. I am at peace with some of deepest regrets.

  Chapter Four

  Bar Mitzvahed by Fire

  There are facts concerning my father's death. I have talked about these several times. I do not really talk about my father's death. I will let Christine tell her side of the story.

  The facts are this. I was about to lose my virginity, when I lost my father instead. He was killed by a drunk driver. Well, he wasn't exactly killed by a drunk driver. Lee Uhlrich, a twenty-four year old man, had been drinking. He hit my father as he was on his way home after having Christine's father sign the divorce papers. My father was actually killed by the impact of Lee's car hitting his. His car then burst into flames. The tragedy of this is that the one thing that my father did not want in life was to be cremated.

  After my mom got me from the tree house, I went to the hospital and identified his remains. He was buried. I was then left to manage the majority of his business dealings. And that is basically everything that happened when he died.

  ~~~

  There is much more to the story. As he left the tree house, I just stayed there. He came back later that night around one in the morning.

  I cried as he held me and told me everything. He didn't shed a tear that entire evening. He just held me as I cried. I fell asleep in his arms that night.

  I found out later that my response caused a rift between us. He felt that I only cared about my own grief and what would happen to me now that his father had died. He felt that it was his hour of need, and I only thought of myself. He said that I was his place of comfort. He had to find it that night in just holding me. I have always regretted this. If I could change anything, I would have acted differently.

  I don't think I realized what Jack was going through. He never exactly talked about it, either. His mother was so distraught that he had to identify the remains. He was also in charge of the funeral arrangement. All decisions were made by him.

  She was in counseling for about a year after the event. I know that she had to take medication. Jack was in charge of that household. He made sure that the bills were paid and that everything was taken care of. He did all of this while never missing a day of school. And he never complained. That’s Jack.

  I have always felt like Jack's father didn't die th
at night. I think Jack died that night. He became his father. Whatever his father would have done, Jack now did.

  I mean, at the trial where the drunk driver was found guilty, Jack acted like his father would have acted. The man was found guilty of involuntary manslaughter and driving under the influence. He was sentenced to so many years of jail. The local news was there as he exited the court. I was there with him and his mother. They just shoved the microphone in front of him and asked him, "Do you feel vindicated by the court's decision?" He looked at them. He then saw the drunk driver's family.

  He went over to that guy's crying mother and said, "I'm sorry for your loss." She was kind of shocked. He explained to her that it was natural for a child to lose his parent. It wasn't natural for a parent to lose their child. Hers was the greatest tragedy because her son was now going to be in prison. A life of promise would now not be fulfilled. No parent wants that for their child.

  The news didn't know what to do. Jack was the victim, and here he was not playing the part. They had the footage of the drunk's mother crying and hugging Jack. It never aired.

  That was not something that Jack would have done before his father's death. It was something that his father would have done. It was like Jack became his father.

  The old Jack still remains. I catch glimpses of him with some of his humor. It is like he lets his guard down at those moments. His sense of humor changed a little after his father's death. Sometimes he acts parental with me. He needs to have sex to lighten up.

  Mostly I see the old Jack when we are alone at night. He seems relaxed and at peace. I like those times. He gives me a look or a touch. I know that it is the old Jack that I first fell in love with. I don't mind the post death Jack. I just like the old Jack. It is the real Jack to me.

  ~~~

  I didn't change after my father's death. My responsibilities changed. I had to accept this. I'm sorry that I could not stay a 12 year-old boy forever. I mean, I can shave some areas for her if it helps me look like a twelve year old again. That’s about the best that I can do now. I can’t reverse the aging process. And I would think she would have liked for me to have grown a little since then. Do you know that I have grown four inches in the past year and haven’t gotten any taller?

  I admit the incident with Lee's parents was something that my father would do. It was also the right thing to do. I know that a lot of victims would not agree with that. It is not human nature to do what I did. I know that. It was what God would have wanted done. I also spent time with Lee and his family. I found it was the greatest way to find closure.

  Lee did a stupid thing. If he could turn back time, he would change things. He was young and thought he was unstoppable. He didn't think his actions would have any repercussions. Most people think this way. His actions ended in my father's death. He is still spending time in jail for his actions.

  Lee's was the greater tragedy. I lost my father. Lee has been in jail. His parents have missed out on him getting married and having kids. He has to live with the fact that he killed a man.

  Being angry or wanting revenge will not bring my father back. It will not add years to my life or add to the quality of my life. And it is more natural that I should lose my father.

  In a way, I didn't lose my father immediately after his death. He used to come to me at night in dreams. We would talk. It was like the talks we had right after the sex talk.

  Thinking back on it, I think he knew that he was going to be dying soon. There was something in those talks before his death that strikes me now as if he knew something and was preparing for it. He said something about parents living forever in their children. I was too young to fully understand it then. I'm not sure that I understand it now. Maybe I won't ever understand it until I have children of my own.

  There was something else in his talks, too. It was about the love of a parent. He said that I may not always agree with what he would do, but that he would do all that was necessary to do what was best for me. A parent was willing to sacrifice everything, even their life, for their children.

  There is a part of me that thinks I should have died that night. If I wasn't about to have had sex with Christine, he would still be alive today. I feel like he made a bargain with God. He exchanged his life for mine.

  I know that it is illogical. I still feel like it, though. Maybe it is just guilt. I know that me about to have sex and his death has caused me to not want to have sex with Christine until I am ready. It is like I need to outsmart God to enjoy carnal knowledge. How do I follow the Law while trying to break it?

  My father no longer comes to me in dreams. Maybe I have learned everything that he wanted to teach me. Maybe I have fallen too far, and he can no longer reach me. I hope it is the first. I don't think he ever thought that anybody was beyond reaching.

  When Christine and I were fifteen, we started to spend the night together. We didn't have sex. We just slept together on the weekends. It was the only time that I was able to sleep peacefully. I can't sleep without her.

  After my father's death, a lot changed around our houses. Christine became the head of her household. I became the head of mine. Her parents were never involved. After the divorce, they became a babysitter. They took turns watching Christine and the house. My mom just kind of let me run the house. She doesn't ask what I do or where I am going.

  None of our parents have ever objected to us sleeping together on the weekends. Christine's parents don't care. Well, I think her father did at first. Then Christine called him out on the fact that he was cheating on her mom when they were married and brings home girls on the weekends. What does age have to do with morality?

  I have always liked it when Christine has smarted off to elders. I know that I shouldn't. There is just something sexy about a strong woman. What makes it even better is that she can go from that to a little sex kitten in the blink of an eye. Both are her way of making it in the world. One for defense. The other to get what she wants.

  Christine and I are not capable of the choices that we have been making. It is like we have been left alone in this world. All we have are each other and the lessons of my father.

  I wonder what my father would think of me today. Would he approve of the decisions I have made? Would he approve of me and Christine? That is probably the biggest question I have in life.

  ~~~

  I wonder why Jack has this constant morality issue. When we are alone in bed, we just work as a couple. Nothing else matters. We just click.

  There is nothing wrong with Jack spending the night with me. He seems to be so at peace when he is in bed. And I don’t think his father would object to it, either. His mom doesn’t have a problem with it. After we spent our first night together, she bought him a box of condoms. A big waste of money, if you ask me. I keep telling him that he needs to use them before they expire.

  I still remember the first time that we slept together. He had just gotten into a fight. He was all beaten up and bruised. His lips were a mess. There was no way he could kiss me.

  I don’t think we meant to spend the night together. A kind of dramatic thing happened in our lives. I was kind of in the middle of breaking up with a boyfriend. I hadn’t exactly broken up with him yet.

  That is kind of how Jack got in the fight in the first place. He was protecting my honor. I didn’t think it was worth starting a fight over, but Jack had a look of determination about him. I’ve learned not to disagree with him at those times.

  Jack got the crap kicked out of him. He’s a lover, not a fighter. Lovers shouldn’t try to fight. It will only hurt the body parts that make them great lovers. I’m just glad that Jack still has a great pair of lips. My honor is not worth damaging those.

  We kind of just fell asleep on my bed. He was so beautiful. He doesn’t know it, but I was playing with his hair all night. I was seeing how he would look with it parted different ways.

  I remember he rolled over one time. His arm pit was right in my face. He smelled so good. It was before
he started wearing body sprays. He just had that scent of deodorant and a little sweat from the fight. It was very sexy. There’s something about a man who is a little sweaty. I can’t say that it is really sexy, but it does something for me.

  When he rolled back over, I still kind of wanted to smell him. He was asleep. It was the only time I could touch him and not have him know about it. So I put my head on his chest and just rested on him.

  That is my favorite position to be in with him. It is the only time that I get to hold him. His guard is down enough that I can hold him.

  Jack is good at holding me, but he doesn’t like to be held. I don’t know why.

  Sleeping with him also brings me closer to him. I don’t want to say that he is emotionally distant. He’s not. He just doesn’t express what he is feeling publicly. He lets loose at night when we are alone. Well, he doesn’t let loose. He just… You know. It’s nice.

  There are times I regret not knowing I was mildly autistic when I was younger. The majority of these times involve moments with Christine.

  It seems autistics can often appear to be emotionally distant as if they don’t have emotions. We also have strange sensory behaviors that we like to engage in to help calm us down during stressful times.

  I felt a great many things the night my father died. I just couldn’t express them. And when I feel like this, I find it helps to think through everything and to do the unexplainable behavior I find comforting. For me that is holding Christine. The warmth of her body next to mine, the smell of her hair, the softness of her skin, the feel of her body as I caress her, and the sensation of her touching me brings me the greatest comfort I have ever known.

  There are parts of me that wonder what could have been between me and Christine if we had known about my autism. Instead I feel like we wasted five years of our life because we were interpreting each other’s actions differently.