Common Sons

by Ronald Donaghe

  Tom laughed. “You shickle the tit out of me sometimes!”

  Joel laughed too, feeling better. He hugged Tom tightly. “Anyway. I guess my point is, without a god, what better way to be religious than to live and work and take care of our bodies and our world?”

  “And each other,” Tom said.

  “You don’t think it’s corny?”

  Tom smiled. “No, Joel. It’s exactly what I would expect from you.”

  “Then see? We are connected to things. It could be spiritual, if you want. But just because you prayed doesn’t mean it, the Garden, is going to react to what you prayed about. I mean, plants respond to sunlight and water and mineral nourishment. That’s their way of being connected—hey! What’s wrong?”

  Tom was crying. “Nothing. It is up to me to decide things. It’s crazy, isn’t it, to be ashamed because I want to be with you? We aren’t hurting anyone are we? I guess I was ashamed out of habit. I’m not used to letting go of my feelings. In my father’s home, feelings, especially ones that make you vulnerable, that show your emotions, these are signs of weakness or worse, signs that you’re not right with God. You have to be real strict on yourself, keep things like affection and tenderness from coming out too carelessly, but with you, and even with your parents, Joel, these kinds of feelings are natural. The way you touch each other, you and your parents, the way you’ve always touched me.” Tom trailed off. He sighed. He wiped away his tears and smiled. “I have to learn to trust these feelings, to give in to them, and be happy because it feels right.”

  “But because of the others, your father, especially,” Joel said, not forgetting the reality of their danger, “we’re going to have to be strong. I’m still afraid of what your father will do.”

  * * *

  They were in the living room on the couch, holding each other close, trying to make plans for what threatened to come. They had drawn the curtains, remembering that Kenneth had crouched there before. But the threat was without substance, a hovering menace without a face, a dread they could not articulate. It was impossible to decide what to do until they could see what happened. Car lights played across the curtains. Joel was afraid that it might be Tom’s father. He went to the front door, but the car was gone. He ran out to the kitchen; then, hearing the garage door opening, realized that his parents were home a day early.

  Joel turned the television off and they went to meet his parents. They came in through the kitchen door from the garage. Eva Reece set her suitcase down and hugged him and Tom. Douglas followed her in with the rest of the luggage and shook hands with the boys. “Welcome home,” Joel said to both of them. “I’ve got some bad news.”

  Their smiles disappeared when Joel led them into the dining room and pulled back the curtains on the dining room window revealing the plywood. “We had a prankster out here last night,” he said. “Dad, you know Kenneth Stroud? He shot out the window.”

  Douglas Reece’s face went from concern to distaste. “But why?”

  Joel didn’t know exactly how to respond. “It’s a long story.”

  Eva saw the china cabinet and went over to it, giving off little gasps as she surveyed the damage. “My goodness!” she exclaimed. “Honestly, Douglas. Would you look at this!” She faced Joel. “When did this happen?”

  “Kenneth Stroud has been harassing us. He ran us off the road after church on Wednesday night, and then last night he came out here and blew the window out with his shotgun. The glass just flew everywhere.”

  Douglas sat down at the table, speechless, waiting for an explanation.

  In the kitchen, Eva took charge of her territory again. In no time, she had a pile of sandwiches and a pot of coffee set out on the table. Joel spoke mainly to his father but occasionally turned to her, telling them how he and Tom, coming back from taking a walk, had seen the yard light explode from a shotgun blast, and then, when they were coming around the house, heard another shot that blew the dining room window out. He told them how he and Kenneth had fought after that. There wasn’t much to tell after all, he discovered, dealing strictly with those facts. He wasn’t able to hide his nervousness, and he left his parents more confused than ever.

  “But why? Son, did you do something to piss him off?” Douglas asked.

  “That’s a lot harder to tell, Dad,” Joel hedged. “Kenneth has always hated me—at least since school at Mimbres, you know. Then…a lot has happened. You won’t like any of it.”

  Tom, who had been sitting quietly, said, “I was the one who started it, Mr. and Mrs. Reece.”

  For the first time in a half hour, Eva laughed a small laugh. “Oh, honey, what could you have done?”

  Tom blushed, his long dark lashes fluttered nervously. He looked at Joel now, and some sense of determination passed between them.

  Joel began with the argument with Tom two weeks before. “Remember how bad it was? I moped around for a solid week. It was a bad time for us.” He looked at Tom, nodded, then looked at

  Douglas. “I know I told you it wasn’t, but I couldn’t tell you how bad it really was.”

  Douglas stood up and Joel felt his strong hands on his shoulders. “You’re confusing the hell out of me, Son. Nothing can be so bad that you can’t tell me.”

  Joel felt tears of frustration breaking at the corners of his eyes. He wiped them with the heel of his hand. “Yes, it is, Dad.”

  Eva looked from Joel to Tom, then back to her husband. But she said nothing.

  “Okay,” Douglas said, “it’s bad. You murder someone?”

  “No. Dad.”

  “You kill the crops?” He attempted a laugh but, seeing his wife’s face, he backed off.

  “Me and Tom got drunk at that dance. Remember?”

  He nodded, but looked confused. “I thought—”

  Joel remembered his father’s joke on him that morning about the underwear. “I know. But I was with Tom that night. At the dance, Tom got a few guys pissed. At least I saw they were, so I took him away. But we didn’t go straight home. I wanted him to sober up.”

  “We went parking,” Tom said.

  “These guys.” Douglas cut in. “Kenneth was one of ‘em?”

  “No, but he was there,” Joel said. “They didn’t like the way Tom was acting. I didn’t know Kenneth would be so persistent, but one thing led to another and every chance he got he tried to hassle us, like I said.”

  “That’s kind of strange, Son. But no tellin’ what’s gonna make drunk cowboys mad, you know. So?”

  Eva stood up. “Well! I know you two had an awful fight, but you seem to be friends again. I think I’ll go unpack. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She started to leave the room, but Joel touched her arm.

  “Mom, you’ve gotta stay.” He spoke as calmly as he could, but she was alarmed. She sat back down and nervously picked up one of the forgotten sandwiches.

  He felt sorry for her; he had never intended to scare her. But he was resolute. “We are friends. That wasn’t the problem. The night of the dance when we got drunk, Tom kissed me. In front of all those guys. I guess some of his self-control was let down. But I could tell that people didn’t think it was funny. And I knew he would get slugged if we stuck around so we left the dance, like I said, but I couldn’t take him home, as drunk as we were.”

  Neither of his parents moved or spoke. His mother’s face had turned white. While Joel was telling them the story, her face had changed from sympathy, to surprise, to anger. But she had smiled bravely through it. Now her smile thinned. Her eyes opened, confused, as though Joel had suddenly begun speaking Greek. Then the words seemed to register. Just a hint of surprise had crossed his father’s face. Joel took a ragged breath. “We went parking behind one of the old hangars out there. I just intended to get him sober but, well, we started kissing again. It surprised both of us, and pretty soon we were, you know, doing everything.”

  His mother’s face sagged horribly. “Oh, Joel! Why? That’s despicable!” She began to cry.

  But Joel could
n’t stop now. “Tom thought it was too, Mom. We argued about it the next day. He tried to tell me it was wrong, what we did, but I just couldn’t accept it. So he decided to take time by himself.”

  “And that’s why Kenneth started hassling you, isn’t it?” Douglas’ face was still calm. He put his hand on his wife’s shoulder. She was crying and shaking her head. “Eva, that’s enough. Please. Stop it.”

  She dabbed at her eyes. She smiled weakly. “I’m sorry. I never thought of anything like this.” Her voice was full of repressed sobs. Her face showed her pain. “At least that explains why you were so miserable all that week. I should think it would bother you. It did, didn’t it, honey?” She was all prepared to pour out her sympathy, and Joel regretted having to continue, to destroy what sounded like a prayer from her, wanting to hear him say how badly he felt about what they had done.”

  His father was almost the exact opposite. He was smiling mildly, looking amused—sort of, but not quite. It had taken him a moment to fix on Joel’s words, but when he had understood what the words meant, he had settled for amusement. Joel looked back and forth between them, letting his attention stay on his father’s calm face.

  “Mom, I did feel sort of bad,” Joel said, attempting to soften the blow of his words, “but what really made things worse for us was Kenneth. His mother is a member of Tom’s church. He told the son of one of the elders about the way Tom was acting at the dance, and this guy tells his own parents, and they tell Tom’s father and, well, it just kept snowballing. Then last night, Kenneth came over for a showdown or something, and you see what happened. He shot out the window, trying to get us to come out. Fighting him wasn’t really hard because he’d already used up his shells. Mrs. Stroud offered to pay for the window last night when we dumped Kenneth off. But you know she can’t. If you press charges, they could put Kenneth in jail, but I just don’t know. Maybe he won’t bother us any more.”

  “Oh, that poor woman!” Eva said, in spite of herself.

  Joel wanted to let it rest, now, but he had to press on. Any minute, he expected Tom’s father to call. “I told Mrs. Stroud that we’d fix the window. Okay? They can’t afford that. But you’ll need to decide if you want him to go to court because of what he did.”

  Douglas waved his hand. “Depends on what that asshole father does.” He looked thoughtful. “It took guts for you to tell us about everything, Joel.”

  “That isn’t everything,” Joel said. He hated what he had to do, but he would not stop.

  “When Tom’s father came out here, Tom denied everything.about us kissing. But Paul, the elder’s son, caught us this afternoon messing around at the pond. And we know he’s going back to the preacher with that. So now, Tom is in a real bad situation at home…and probably in church too. Me and Tom…See, after the dance, and after everything, me and Tom.love each other.We’ve been sleeping together. You understand?”

  This time, Douglas slammed his hand down on the table and, for the first time, his anger showed. “No, I don’t understand! You’re telling your mother and me that you two are homosexual?”

  Joel was finished. “Yeah.” He braced himself for a further explosion, but was met only with silence.

  His mother left the room without a word.

  He and Tom looked at each other sheepishly. After a moment, his father went into the living room, leaving him and Tom alone in the dining room. They heard him rummaging through a bookshelf. Joel watched through the wide doorway, afraid to say anything. He felt sick to his stomach, but also relieved. He felt better, having told them everything.

  Tom touched his hand. “It’ll be okay,” he said.

  Tom’s touch made him turn to look, and he was shocked to see that he was crying large, silent tears. For a moment, he was afraid that Tom was sorry that Joel had told his parents; then he understood. They were tears of relief. He smiled then and whispered to Tom. “I do love you. I told you I meant everything I’ve said.”

  Tom wiped his tears with his sleeve. He sniffled, stood up, and went into the living room. Joel heard him saying, “I’m sorry, Mr. Reece.”

  He strained to hear what his father was saying, but he heard only the gentle tone of his voice. Then the telephone clanged like a fire bell.

  Almost immediately Joel heard his father’s abrupt change of tone. “Reece here.”

  “Pete? They’re both here.It’s up to them, Son. Okay. I’ll have Tom call. Goodnight.”

  Joel couldn’t stand it any more and went into the living room. Tom was standing by the telephone. His father turned to him. “That was a kid named Pete.” Then he smiled again, both amusement and something else playing around his eyes. “You two sure have stirred up a hornet’s nest. He says you’ve got to call back tonight. You can do that when I’m finished. Now, both of you please sit down.” His tone was firm, but there was no anger in his voice.

  They sat close to each other on the couch like two children about to get a spanking. Their shoulders were touching and Joel felt how shaken Tom was. He was trembling slightly himself and having a hard time breathing regularly. They waited.

  Douglas turned on the overhead lights. In the bright glare, Joel saw the hurt. But his voice was steady. “Here, Joel, take a look at this.” He handed Joel a family album.

  Joel took it. It was open to a page with old pictures, taken sometime in the thirties, he guessed. Douglas pointed to a picture in one corner of the page. “See those two women?”

  Joel looked at the picture. Two women, dressed in old-fashioned dresses with lace around the edges with long sleeves and tight waists, had been captured by the camera; their faces were without expression. They looked old, maybe in their sixties. The photograph was sepia-tinted, trimmed around the edges in a white cloud. He looked up at his father. “Who are they?”

  “One’s a great-aunt of mine, on my mother’s side. The other woman is her friend. Like you say between you and Tom. No one in the family knew until after they both died. When my mother went to pack their things, she found out. I don’t remember how. Anyway, I remember them. Everybody else in my family, well, they burned everything that belonged to them or gave it to the Salvation Army. But I kept that picture. I used to go over there when I was a kid. They gave me sweets and things and, years later—I musta been about your age when they died—I was told what they had been. I didn’t know what they meant, saying they were perverts. But eventually I figured it out. I was shocked, but it didn’t mean much to me. They were dead. They were never anything but nice to me—too nice for me to let their personal lives bother me.”

  He looked down at them, paused a moment, then continued. “Things were different then, I s’pose. They had to be careful. If anyone had found out, they probably would have gone friendless from then on. But nowadays in other places, I hear, there are bars and clubs for people like that. Can’t say I understand, even now, what causes it.” He took the album from Joel and closed it, held it against his chest like a treasured book. He looked over their heads and took a deep breath.

  “I had a buddy in the army during the war against Hitler. You two are lucky. You haven’t been through a war like that. Times out there, you took what comfort you could get. I was just a little older than you are now, Joel, and there for awhile, this buddy of mine and me shared a bed.”

  Joel felt his heart stop, and it was his turn to look odd, to suddenly feel very odd. He glanced quickly at Tom and saw surprise on his face.

  “We were just kids, and some nights we took comfort from each other and had relations. But when I got back home, I went back to your mother. I had a family, Joel, and responsibilities. I knew the thing for what it was. I’m not like that, though, never really was, but I ain’t never forgot him, either. I think he was that way, but I never got to find out. Anyway, I never thought I’d tell a soul about that.at least after I squared myself with your mother. I told her about everything. She understood, Son, eventually. But it took time. She reacted about the same way she did tonight, except…well, I wasn’t telling
her I wanted to be one of those, like you just did. And I never thought you’d be telling me you were.like that, either. So in a way, I guess I understand what you say. But, Son, it’s one thing when you go through a war, sleeping and living close together in the trenches, month after month, so frightened and on edge all the time, you think your next breath will be your last. It’s different when you have a choice, it seems like to me.”

  “Dad?”

  He was staring over their heads, and Joel thought he had forgotten them. He looked down. There were tears in his eyes. “Yes?”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  He smiled down at Joel. “You haven’t. You’ve made me proud tonight. Telling me something that you could have denied. Now I’m not saying I strictly believe you’re what you think you are. That remains to be seen. But I know you. You deserve the same respect I would want. You, too, Tommy. But if it’s true, I suspect you have a hard row to hoe. Now, please, call your friend back. Take care of whatever business he’s got with you, then get to bed. If you’ve got trouble brewing with your father, Tom, I suspect it would be a good idea if we all went to church tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Sunday, June 13

  2 a.m.

  He lay awake.

  His hand grasped the sheet and nothing else. In so short a time, it felt strange to be lying here alone; he had grown used to having Tom beside him. But Tom may as well have been a million miles away instead of down the hall in the guest room. It was Tom’s idea, since they had told Joel’s parents. But Joel agreed, seeing the decency of Tom’s suggestion in the face of how his mother had reacted. But he figured it was just as hard for his father. Joel had been amazed, but not altogether convinced, when his father said he was proud of him tonight.

  He shuddered at the power of words and how, once spoken, couldn’t be taken back, how words themselves could hurt. Words made his mother run from the room in tears; the same words had made his father remember two old ladies he had liked as a child and a long-forgotten war buddy; and he was amazed that his father had found love for a time with another man. “We love each other,” Joel had told his parents. And wasn’t it funny, not a single one of those words was bad. The sentence, even, had all the genuine sound of goodness and affection, and yet…somehow it stabbed his mother to the heart. “But we do love each other!” he said, now, and he felt good about it.