“I liked her,” I smiled. I really had. It had also opened my eyes to the fact that outsides don’t matter so much, you know? As I got to know her, in order not to hurt her feelings, I realized she was just like anyone else on the inside.
Decker smiled at me briefly. “So your mother had one similar?”
“Yes. Very…” Then I realized these pearls were cloudy and I thought I could smell something, like gas or smoke on them. “Oh no,” I added, my eyes slamming shut and Jay’s hand taking mine. I felt faint.
“Pending confirmation with her dentist,” Decker said quietly, “I think I can say we found your missing mother.”
Then I fainted, a thing I’ve never done before in my life.
Half an hour later, I was lying in Jay’s bed again, still dressed, and Chris was sitting beside me. The room was quiet and darkened. Soft music was playing in the kitchen and women’s voices were chatting. Chris patted my arm and then curled up beside me. I put my arm around her like I used to do years ago. “Shall I tell you the rest of it or do you want to read about it in the paper tomorrow?” she asked me. I realized my head was in Jay’s lap and he was fussing with my hair.
“They found three women’s bodies in the crawl space, as well as one child’s. They think one is the Mayor’s wife, and of course her daughter, and,” Chris sobbed once, “one is Mom, I just know it. They’re going through missing persons reports to identify the third. It’s so awful!”
I nodded or tried to but Jay was busy soothing me and rubbing my scalp like a masseur. I loved it. “They think Dad flew to Europe but they don’t know what ID he used. Not his own. And the Mayor—he’s gone too.” She gulped and went on. “The body they found—bodies—in Dad’s room were Cornelius and his girlfriend but they haven’t identified her yet. And from what you told them, Dad knew—or thought he knew—that there were three of us locked in my room. Thank God for Gene and her, I mean our, rats, or we might have been there. I don’t know what possessed you to go back there, but don’t ever do that to me again.” She slapped me none too lightly on my cheek. Jay kissed it, glaring at her and I swear I heard him growl.
“And guess what,” Chris asked, sitting back up and bouncing on the bed now. This time Jay did growl. “Gene and I are going together and she doesn’t care if I stay a girl or transition to male later on! Isn’t that great?”
Although not completely a surprise, I still almost swallowed my tongue, but then thought of Jay’s tongue and my own brain frizzled at that. So instead of answering, I giggled. I actually giggled, and so did Chris and then Gene popped up behind Chris and kissed her and Jay pouted and kissed me, and between trying to outdo each other with the kissy faces, and the giggling in between, I got the feeling that things were, somehow, going to be all right.
Right on cue, Jay’s Mom thudded on the door. “Lunch is ready! Come and eat!”
Chapter 5
Lunch was huge. I didn’t want Mrs. G. to feel bad (oh, okay I ate some of everything because it looked wonderful and it was.) Dad never cooked like this. I ate until I wanted to fall asleep. One of the grandpas helped me up, led me to the sofa, and sat us both down. He put his hand in his waistband; I unsnapped my jeans and did the same. He let out a long, satisfying burp; so did I. I could get into this.
We both dozed off. I thought, old age is wasted on the old.I woke up three hours later with two dogs beside me and a cat on my chest. My feet were on the couch and my head on grandpa’s lap. He was still asleep. I had to pee. I couldn’t move. The rest of the house was empty. “Little help here?” I called out, only too quietly to disturb the two dogs, cat and grandpa. Then I fell asleep again.
When I woke up again my three best friends had gone to see the house and had just returned. I was furious that they had left me here, but as I saw Gene and Janette both comforting my sobbing sister, I felt relief instead. The dogs and cat were gone and grandpa was reading, his elbow resting on my head. He smiled as I got up and once again I felt how much love was in this house.
I neglected to see how much mischief was in Jay’s eyes. He followed me into the bathroom. “Can I help you with that?” he asked, innocently. This wasn’t the time. My sister wasn’t sobbing so hard now, but I could still hear her. Jay pouted and smiled at the same time.
We went into the girls’ room. Only Chris and Gene were there. Maybe we should have knocked first but it was okay. We sat down on the bed with them. Chris curled into me and I held her.
“What was it like? Why didn’t you wake me?” I started out quietly but the last part sounded harsh. “I’m sorry! I don’t mean to be mean.” Shit, now I was crying.
“There’s nothing there,” Chris growled. Gene took her back in her arms, glaring at me. Jay took me in his arms. This was getting ridiculous. “It’s all black and ashes and a few pieces of wood sticking out.”
Gene nodded. “I told you so. Those are called ‘beams’ honey. And the concrete wall around the crawl space, that was where it was all walled off with those screens. The police were still there working. The cadaver team and the coroner’s office were—”
Chris howled, muffled against the pragmatic Gene’s chest.
Jay said, “Jesus, Gene! They knew those people. That was their mother they were digging up, oh sorry,” Jay added when both Chris and I glared at him.
“WAH!” Chris actually cried out, like a baby doll, before going off again.
Now Jay was saying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, okay? Jesus!”
There came a pounding on the door. A gruff voice shouted, “Knock it off in there! What are you doing to her? We’re coming in!”
The door burst open and mafia/mailman uncle and the other grandpa stood there, one with a large turkey baster held like a club and the other with a gun that looked like a relic from the Boer War.
Gene started to cry. Chris gulped and stopped. She threw her arms around Gene protectively. “Don’t you dare hurt her!”
Jay began to laugh. “Grandpa, put the gun down,” he got out, giggling. His grandpa looked like Che Guevara, or that Mexican villain from the old days. My eyes were huge and my mouth was hanging open. “Hey, Pancho Villa,” Jay croaked, choking with laughter, falling over on top of me and roaring. “Put your weapon down too!”
Grandpa Pancho smiled. “So, you girls are okay in here? The boys are not bothering you, eh?”
Gene made fists. She smiled and her nose twitched. One half of her upper lip pulled up. How did she do that? All I could do was raise one eyebrow. Nobody would ever be afraid of me.
But a chill ran down my spine. My dad was afraid of me, I mean, if he knew I was alive he might be, wouldn’t he? Cos, well I knew where the bodies were—buried. Although now that they’d been found, well, would he try to kill me—us—again? Oh crap. I needed to talk to somebody about this. I was really scaring myself, and I didn’t know if it was needless, or smart.
I caught my breath. The elders/mafia left. I patted my sister. “You should get some rest,” I said. “Jay, let’s get out of here.” It was just too emotionally thick in here for me; I felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore, what with my sister in tears and Gene being aggressive and all the unsaid, gory details hanging in the air, and now my worry that she and I might be in danger. At the same time, though, I felt powerful and in control. I had to shake my head; there was no way I could actually be as strong as I felt just then. Maybe I’d grow into it. Maybe it was wafting off Gene and I just got in its way. Whatever, I liked that streak in me. When Jay and I were in the hall, I said, “Can you drive me over there? I need to see it too.” I had to draw a deep breath, because although I had this confidence thing going on in my head somewhere, I was still shaking physically. I hoped it didn’t show.
Apparently it did. Jay turned to me, smoothed my shirt collar, wiped a smudge of tear off my cheek with his finger tip, and kissed me. I swooned (never knew what that meant before) against him and kissed him back. If I could kiss him enough, I could forget I ever had a father, a home, a room of my own, an en
tire former life. But then, I’d never have met him, would I? I pulled back with a bitten off sob. And the love continued to just pour off him, out of him, around him and around me and into my heart. And what did he do? He pulled up my shirt and wiped my face with it, told me to blow (which I didn’t) while he held it to my nose, and then tickled my stomach while putting my shirt back down.
When we left his house, I was smiling. There were more tears on my face, but they had to detour around my smile. Just for your information, neither of us had gotten an erection during this kiss, which made me realize that this love, this friendship, wasn’t going to be just about sex. I think this was where my new-found confidence was really coming from, from him and the unconditional acceptance of me by his family. What would I be like if my own family had been like this; what could I have accomplished by now and what would be in my future? Right now I didn’t even plan on going to college, though I wanted to. I hadn’t told anyone what I was interested in because the few times I’d mentioned it at home Dad had scoffed or made some subtle putdown that made me feel it was a stupid idea. All that just bloomed over my head like a time-lapse photo of a rose coming to life, or an atom bomb going off. Whoosh! Boom!
I may no longer have had a past, and maybe not even a present that I recognized, but now I knew I had a future, and I could make it whatever I wished.
Looking at the remains of my home was an anticlimax. Standing there with Jay holding my arm, his shoulder and hip brushing mine, gave me that steady stream of confidence and peace of mind I had glimpsed earlier. There was nothing left for me—for anyone, here—nothing at all but the solution to a mystery. Though the third body had not yet been identified, that was not my problem. I felt so sorry for all of them and the loved ones they had left behind. The sorrow I felt was somehow lessened. At least now I knew she had not left us willingly, and selfishly, that felt wonderful, like the sun had just come out after a long, cold winter.
I turned around when an older man and woman walked up next to me. The woman just stood there and stared at the house. She had a tissue to her face and was crying silently. The man looked at it briefly, and then at me. “Nicholas? Nick?” he asked cautiously.
I felt a rush of memory come at me like a steam train that has gone off its track. I had not seen these people since before Mom had disappeared. “Grandpa?” I asked, already knowing the answer. I sensed Jay stepping a few feet away, but not leaving me. We didn’t hug, my grandfather and I, though my grandmother turned away from the house and reached out to touch my face. Her hand was so soft and light, and I melted into it like butter.
“Your father said she had taken you and Chris with her when she moved out. He said all kinds of things, and like the stupid fool I am, I believed him.”
Nick,” said my grandmother to my grandfather, “I know you said it was stupid, but I still wrote and sent them cards on their birthdays.”
The fact that I was named after him went right over my head at the time. “I know,” I said, putting my arm around my grandmother, who looked like I felt—weak, shocked, once again in a ton of freshly barbequed pain. “I found them just the other day. Dad had torn them all up and then hidden them as well.” Pain tore through me at all we had missed. Missed because of the one person we should have been able to trust.
“Nicky dear,” said my grandmother, wiping her eyes again. “Your grandfather and I are so, so sorry.”
I’d lost my mom, but grandma had lost her daughter. I caught Jay’s eye over her shoulder, and his smile was so full of happiness for me. I made introductions; I didn’t even think twice before saying, “This is Jay, my boyfriend.” Grandpa blinked and raised one eyebrow, and Jay and I both blushed.
Grandma gave Jay the whole hug routine too. “Everything is so much more bearable, when you have someone who loves you,” she said with a smile.
Talk about validation; my heart felt so full I thought it would explode out of my chest. This was way too much, all the love and change and sunshine and love and family—and before me the ashes and ruin that I thought was still my life. I pointed out where the rooms in the house had been, and walked around the back to show them Mom’s old flower garden. Then Jay invited us over to his house. And we went.
A few days later there was a funeral to go to, and more talks with the police, and Chris and I visiting the grandparents at their hotel. Chris and Gene spent most of the visit in the indoor swimming pool. Grandpa said if we wanted, he and Grandma would love to have us move to their home, half the country away, or they could buy a condo here and we could stay with them here, staying on at our old school, and continuing to be with our friends. Grandma almost giggled at that. “My uncle and my younger brother are both gay,” she said, “so you come by it honestly.” Grandpa honked into his handkerchief and rolled his eyes.
And a month later, that’s exactly what we did. A few charities and many friends gave us money, so we were able to buy clothes, new cellphones, laptops, whatever we needed. We both passed our final exams and were free for the summer. When our grandparents bought their place here, we left Jay’s house and moved in with them. Grandma, who had been a librarian, helped me make college choices and find grants and loans. I looked forward to life with a joy I’d never had before all this happened. It always intrigued me how when you are at your lowest spot, the fact that there is nowhere to go but up, something good can actually happen. People come along and help when they know what is needed. Jay and I are still close, and we got the condoms back from his mother. That’s all I’ll say about that. To this day we have no idea where our Dad is, but I’ve lost my fear of him. Oh, and Chris and I buried our old cat in the backyard in Mom’s garden. The property is on the market now, and the proceeds will go directly into our college funds.
That’s about it; I have to go, Jay and I are meeting the girls at the Soda Shoppe. I think they’re having a surprise belated birthday party for me and I’m trying not to get too excited in case I’m wrong, plus I have to figure out how to pretend I didn’t guess if I’m right. Cross your fingers for me.
Ciao.
THE END
ABOUT EMERY C. WALTERS
Emery C. Walters was born Carol Forde, a name he soon knew didn’t fit the boy he was inside. Transition was unknown back then, so he married and then bore and raised four children. When his youngest child, his gay son, left home, Emery told Carol that she had to step aside, and he fully transitioned from female to male in 2001.
Emery worked in county government and as a college writing tutor before retiring. He and his wife Robyn, herself raised mistakenly as a boy, live in Hawaii where they combine snorkeling, scuba diving, and volunteer work with activities to boost LGBT rights and awareness.
Interested in Ninjutsu, both land and underwater photography, and writing, Emery can usually be found writing, reading, or sailing on his imaginary pirate ship.
Emery’s 2010 first published novel, Last Year's Leaves, is an intense story of recovery from abuse and loss, finding love, and coming out whole. The book is laced with his trademark humor. His recent publications include four other coming of age novels involving coming out and overcoming obstacles as well as two books of short stories. All are humorous and filled with hope. Drystan the Dire, Emery’s Welsh pirate ancestor, shows up at times to help the heroes and annoy the villains. Emery currently has two more novels in the publishing pipeline.
Between them, the Walters have eight adult children, umpteen grandchildren, and one great grandchild, none of whom can do a thing about the genetic material handed down to them—their gift to the future. So there. More information can be found online at ftemery-theemeryboard.blogspot.com.
ABOUT QUEERTEEN PRESS
Queerteen Press is the young adult imprint of JMS Books LLC, a small electronic press specializing in gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender fiction, as well as popular and literary fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. While our preference is for stories with GLBT characters, we publish stories in any YA genre. Visit us at queerteen-press.
com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!
Family Jewels Page 5