by T. J. Klune
“What did I say that time?” he whispers as he grinds his chest against me. So unfair.
“You better have been saying how you want my dick in your mouth, or I am going to kick you in the balls,” I pant.
“Nope. Let’s try it a different way.”
He uses his tongue this time. I forget how to spell.
I
go back
further and it’s two
It’s two days before the dirty spelling bee. I am at work, and the phone rings. Even before I pick it up, I know it’s him.
“Hey,” he says excitedly. “I totally forgot to tell you today! I didn’t buy the dolphin-safe tuna.”
I grin. “I love you too,” I say, feeling retarded and elated all the same time. I don’t even look around to see if anyone is listening.
Then it’s
further back and I
and I wake
I wake up next to him, his breath warm on my face, his arms curled around my neck. His heart beats in my ear. I shift gently so I can rest my chin on his nipple, and I look up him, willing him to wake up, wanting to see the gold and green I’d just been dreaming of. And then it’s magic, it’s magic, it’s magic because right then his eyes open, and he smiles sleepily at me. “Hey,”
“Hey, yourself.” I reach up, and he’s ready for me, hunger beginning to take shape, and I think I won’t ever fit against anyone as well as I fit against him.
back further (when? why?)
It’s just days after I have told him I love him for the first time. Every time he sees me, it’s like it’s for the first time.
“Hey,” he says. “You know I knew, right?”
I could pretend not to know what he’s talking about, but he won’t be fooled.
“I know.”
He kisses my forehead. “I felt it from the start.”
He tells me he loves me.
He whispers that the fight for me is all he’s ever known.
I know. Ah, God how I know and and and
and
then I
go
forward.
We are almost to Anna’s house.
“That’s what this is about, isn’t it? About Oliver?” Mrs. Paquinn says quietly. “What did she say to you, Bear?”
Who’s more important to you? Who needs you more?
“She said enough.” I stare out the window the rest of the way.
WE PULL into the driveway at Anna’s house. I’m about to open the door when Mrs. Paquinn takes me gently by the arm. I look back at her.
“Whatever happened, whatever will happen, we’ll get through this. Together,” she says. “I know you’re strong, and I know you’re brave, but no one should have to go it alone.”
“What about you?” I say stupidly. “You’re alone.”
She laughs. “Oh, Bear. With you and Tyson and everything else in my life, how could I possibly be alone?”
The front door to the house flies open, and the Kid tears out the door. It seems like I can’t get out of the car fast enough. It’s not until I’m running toward him, it’s not until he’s jumping into my arms, that I finally realize just how scared I’d been. When you’re in a rage of panic, it’s all-encompassing, terrifying, ice cold. One step removed from it, and I see just how close I was to losing my mind. He sobs in my ear how sorry he is, and I feel his little body pressed to me, and I inhale deeply, taking in his scent, and I know now just how lost I would be without this Kid in my arms. I push him back and wipe clumsily at his face, brushing the tears away. He reaches up and rubs mine away. I capture those tiny hands in mine and press them against my lips and close my eyes. His forehead touches mine.
“Oh, Papa Bear,” he chokes out. “Please don’t be mad at me. I just went to get some help. I’m just a little guy. I can’t take care of you by myself. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”
“You take care of me just fine,” I say roughly. “I’m not mad. I just got a little scared is all. I thought you were gone.”
This starts him all over again, and he cries into my neck. I grip him tighter, speaking quietly into his ear until he stops sobbing and starts hiccupping. I rub my hand through his hair. It’s so long again. He needs a haircut. I’ll have to make an appointment. My hands start to shake. I don’t know why.
I look over his shoulder and see Anna standing next to Mrs. Paquinn, both of their eyes red-rimmed, their faces wet. And of course, next to Anna is Creed, eyes suspiciously shiny. He rubs his forearm over his face, and when he drops it, his eyes have lost the shine. What’s there instead is resolve. He knows. And if he knows, Anna does too.
Fuck.
I feel a tugging on my chin and look down at the Kid in my arms. His nose is snotty and his face is puffy, but he’s still the greatest thing I’ve ever seen. And if he can know about me and Otter and still look at me like I created the Earth, then I must be doing something right.
I sigh and turn my attention back to my little family standing in front of me. “I guess we have some things to talk about. Can we go inside?”
13.
Where Bear Comes
(Out) Clean
WE SIT in Anna’s living room, Tyson in my lap and the others sitting across from us on the couch. The Kid seems perfectly happy being latched tightly onto my hands, and I have to admit I’m pretty okay with that. I look over at the others, and they’re watching me silently, and in my head, I’m making it a game to see how long we can go before someone breaks the silence like it’s something fragile. The sweat that’s pouring down my back leaves no doubt in my mind that it’s going to be me. I feel a tug on my chin.
The Kid looks up at me with those big eyes of his. He motions for me to lean in closer, and he puts his lips close to my ear, and his breath tickles as he speaks: “I didn’t say anything to them.” The look he gives me is so miserable that I hug him tightly again.
“I know you didn’t, Kid.” And I do.
“Are you really going to tell them?” he whispers. “Does that mean we can go see Otter when we’re done?”
I smile sadly down at him. “I don’t know.” I take a deep breath. “I’m scared.”
His brow furrows, and he looks over at Anna, Creed, and Mrs. Paquinn. He appears to study them for a moment and then turns back to me. “Why?”
Why indeed?
Fully knowing the answer, yet still needing to hear it anyway, I ask, “After I told you, you still loved me, right?”
The smile that dawns on his face then is dazzling, and I can see more tears welling up behind his eyes. He wraps his arms around my neck and squeezes like we’ll both die if he doesn’t hug me as hard as he can. His breath is harsh in my ear. “More than you’ll ever know, Papa Bear. More than you’ll ever know.” I close my eyes and focus on his heart beating next to mine. He is my strength. He is my courage. If he tells me that it’s going to be okay, I at least have to take the chance and believe him.
“I can have both of you, can’t I?” I whisper to him. “I don’t have to choose?”
He rubs his hands along the back of my head. “You don’t have to choose,” he says quietly. “We chose you already.”
My voice startles me, as I don’t know I’m about to speak to the group before me until I hear my words come out loud and strong, rushed and firm: “Before I say anything, there’s one thing I would ask. One thing I need to have you all do.” I don’t take my eyes off the Kid, but I somehow know I have their attention. “Don’t say anything until I’m done. Let me say what it is I need to say without any interruptions. It’s… it’s the only thing I ask.” I finally look at them.
Mrs. Paquinn and Anna are nodding, but Creed looks like he thinks that’s the stupidest idea in the world. He starts to open his mouth, and Anna elbows him in the ribs, causing him to wince and glare down at her. A moment later, I’m the center of his attention again, and he nods, resigned. I hope you’ll still be willing to look at me when I’m done, I think. I hope you all will.
Wanting to delay
the inevitable as long as I can, I open my mouth to tell them about our mom’s visit or to wax poetic about how much they all mean to me and that I hope what I am about to say won’t change anything. But, as I’ve told you before, my mouth tends to cheat and start the race early, leaving my brain—whose legs have apparently been amputated—trying to catch up. So the words come out, and I should have realized what I was going to say. Maybe it means something. Maybe it means nothing. Who the hell knows anymore?
My immortal words? “Creed, I’m in love with your brother, and I think I fucked everything up.”
Boom.
Okay, well, nothing explodes. As a matter of fact, you know the expression so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop? Well, it was so quiet you could have heard a molecule fart three states away. Apparently no noise is needed to have three sets of eyes bulge out of their sockets. Scratch that, four sets. I look down at the Kid, and his eyes are just as wide. He snickers and says, “Wow, just straight for the jugular, huh?” He pauses and then snickers again. “No pun intended. Well, maybe just a little.” I smack him gently upside the head. Story of my life: lousy execution with color commentary by the world’s smallest vegetarian. This isn’t going to go well.
True to their word, the others don’t speak. Mrs. Paquinn has a smile on her face. Anna is unreadable. Creed… well, Creed’s face is red enough that it looks like he is going to shit an early-eighties Caddy. I look back down at the Kid, and he is smiling quietly, still clutching my finger. If anyone else saw his expression, they would think he’s just listening, waiting for me to continue. But I feel the rigidness of his little body, the way the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he stares at our family. I know him: he’s waiting for someone to say anything against me so that he can tear them limb from limb. Whether or not he’s capable doesn’t matter. I know now that this isn’t just for me. He needs this as much as I do.
“I’m in love with your brother,” I say again, stronger, faster. “He loves me, too, though I haven’t done anything to deserve it. I did almost everything I could to make sure it didn’t happen. As a matter of fact, I’m surprised he hasn’t run screaming back to California before now.” That takes root in my head. Oh, God. I look at Creed. “Has he?” I whisper, not really wanting an answer, but wanting it to be no all at the same time.
He shakes his head but doesn’t speak.
“Oh,” I say weakly. The Kid lets me have a moment of relief before motioning for me to continue. I decide not to think anymore and let the words come on their own. It’s easier that way, not having to choke through a saltwater and silt filter. It’s easier than drowning.
And it goes a little something like this:
One day, a very long time ago, I came home and found a letter from our mom that said she was leaving. I was angry and sad and scared all at the same time. I didn’t know that it was possible to feel that much emotion all at the same time. I thought I was going to die. I thought I was going insane. I thought about doing what she did, and packing up and leaving a note and disappearing because any of those would have been easier than what was expected of me to do. I think most people wouldn’t have blamed me for taking the coward’s way out. But there would have been a few who would’ve had a big fucking problem with that. Those were the few people who stood beside me, allowed me to have my moments to break when the earthquakes got too strong. Those were the few people who were there to put me back together again when I thought I was too broken to fix. They wouldn’t let me get too maudlin, wouldn’t let me curl up in myself and never come back out, even though I wanted to. They saw through all my wannabe hard-ass stubborn bullshit and knew what was best for me. What was best for the Kid.
I don’t know if I’ve ever told you all thank you. I mean, I’ve probably said it before, but you all don’t know how much it meant to us. To know that through the hell that was our lives, there was always one of you there. It’s hard for me to admit when I need help, but you know me to know when I need what I can’t ask for. So thank you, for being our family. Thank you for being the people I want to have in my life. And I ask that you forgive me for the lies I’ve told when I know I’m a better person than that.
You see, there was part of me that was missing. I couldn’t have told you exactly what it was, but it was there. I didn’t recognize it for what it was and let it scab over, but it never completely healed. It never cleared away. It never scarred. Now that I know what it is, it makes this all the more harder because I tore that scab off and cut it open again, rubbing salt on it for good measure. I’m scared that I will never be able to have what I want because of what will get taken from me. I’m prepared to go my whole life to protect what’s mine, but I don’t know how to ask for it back without losing my heart.
He’s what was missing. He came back and I was complete. It took a while to figure that out, and there were times when I thought I never would; but I did, and he was there, waiting for me. So I went with it, going someplace I didn’t think possible. You all have kept me sane, but he kept me safe. I don’t say this to hurt any of you, because it’s not my intention. I just want to be honest with you from now on. I have to, to keep us sane, to keep us safe. Because I learned that maybe, just maybe, I could have something too.
I’ve lied to myself and to all of you. The only thing that I can ask, that I can beg for, is that you see that it was never my intention to hurt any of you, to drive any of you away. I’ve said and done things that I am not proud of, but I think I’ve learned that I can’t keep us away from the world anymore. I need to be able to have a place to call home, and I think I know now that if he’s not there, it will never be home again.
Maybe I could have gone about this a different way. I probably should have. But when your hand is forced and retrospect is a brutal bitch, I guess I don’t really know what I was so scared of. I’ll understand if you hate me, and I’ll hope that one day you can see past that. I don’t expect everything to be like it was, because I know nothing will ever be the same, and I won’t waste time pretending it will be. I need this. I need him. The fight for him is all I’ve ever known, and it’s not a fight I am willing to lose. Not anymore.
Mrs. Paquinn, you’ve been there to make sure the Kid and I didn’t fall. I may not fully understand why, but you gave selflessly, and I will never forget it. I think I can speak for both of us when I say we love you.
Creed, you are my brother. I know I would have lost my way without you. Your first thoughts have always been to make sure Ty and I would never want for anything, even when I was too stupid to ask for it. We love you.
Anna, I don’t know how hard this is for you to be here, but please believe me when I say that I never planned for it to happen. I did feel for you, and I think part of me always will. You are and always will be my sanity. We love you.
Tyson, I may be your brother, but I can guarantee there isn’t a father out there who is more proud of what’s his than I am. You kept me honest. You kept me alive. And believe me when I say that you can take care of me because you have done so your whole life. I love you.
And as for him? Oh God. It always comes back to him, and I think it always will. But I made a mistake, one that I don’t know how to fix.
I need help. I’ve fucked everything up, and I need help.
I stop, my voice hoarse. My vision blurs and my chest burns. The room seems so much brighter than when I started, and I can’t catch my breath. At some point during what had to be the most saccharine and trite speech I’ve ever given, the Kid had wrapped himself around me again and now holds me tight. I hug him back, wanting to close my eyes against him but forcing myself to look at the three opposite of me.
It seems like I made everyone cry again. Goddammit. After today, I am putting an embargo on this gooey feelings shit. Mrs. Paquinn sniffs and smiles warmly at us. Anna is frowning through her tears, and when she catches my eye, she looks away. Creed suddenly stands and moves toward us, practically running. He bends over, and I see the green and gold, faded but
there. There’s a person missing from all of this, I know. He should be here.
“Can I talk now?” Creed asks, voice low.
I nod.
He leans over to the Kid and rubs his hair. “I’m sorry, Ty, for those hurtful words I said. I won’t ever say stuff like that again. I see now why you got so mad at me, but that’s still no excuse. You deserve a better uncle than I am, but if you will let me, I will make sure that I am better from now on.” The Kid turns and launches himself from my lap and into Creed’s waiting arms. He spins the Kid around and around and around. He whispers something into his ear, something I can’t hear, but I know it’s just for them. He pulls back and sets the Kid on his feet. “Can you go sit by Anna for a minute? There’s something I need to say to Papa Bear.” The Kid narrows his eyes, only for a moment, and then looks back at me. I nod, and he turns to Anna’s open arms.
“Stand up, Bear,” Creed orders, his voice hard.
I do.
“I’m pissed off at you,” he growls.
Oh shit.
“How the hell could you have not told me this?” I start to sputter, but he snaps his head side to side. “That question was rhetorical and don’t even think of answering it with rhetoric. You had your turn to talk. Now it’s my turn. You can talk when I’m finished. Clear?”
I nod again.
He smacks me upside the head. “I am your fucking brother, you stupid idiot! How dare you not tell me how you felt about him, about everything that was going on? I thought you at least respected me enough to tell me the goddamn truth!”
“But—”
“Bear!” he barks. “I said no talking!” I go to sit back down, but he grabs me by the arm, and since he outweighs me by a good thirty pounds, moving ceases to be an option. His grip is hard enough to bruise.
“But maybe, just maybe, I can see where you’re coming from, even though I think its bullshit. Maybe, just maybe, I can forgive you for breaking my brother’s heart because God knows you’re breaking mine. Why didn’t you just tell me? Did you think I would hate you? That I would be disgusted by you? If I ever gave you that idea, then I’m fucking sorry.” His voice breaks at that last bit, and I can’t help but be an asshole and think, Oh Jesus, embargo on crying! Embargo all around!