by Kim Oclon
The news about Dad wasn’t bad by any stretch, but it caught me off guard. Forgetting my rush to get to Tyler’s, I went to the kitchen table with a protein bar and fell into one of the chairs, imagining my dad in a circle of people, hopefully on a chair more comfortable than the ones they have in the school’s offices. I tried to picture the group. Some wore suits, unable to get out of the routine of putting one on every morning, while others wore jeans and T-shirts, their daily uniform for however long they’ve been unemployed.
I wondered what Dad chose to wear to these meetings. His post-work uniform of a Sox shirt and sweatpants? A polo shirt to feel more professional? That was Dad’s idea of dressing up. I glanced at the front door and noticed Dad’s gym shoes were kicked to the side, but I didn’t see his steel-toe boots. It seemed weird that he would wear them for anything other than work and doing a project around the house, but maybe he wore them for the same reason someone might wear a suit to the support group. Not because they came from work but because it made them feel like they had just come from work. Maybe having a place to go at a certain time reminded them of going to work so they dressed like they were.
I had seen enough movies and TV shows to know the basic format for a meeting for people dealing with various addictions. The circle of people stating their name, the chorus of “Hi [insert name here],” and then sharing the ups and downs since the last meeting. This group probably had a similar format. Maybe Dad would share how he had a good stretch of side jobs, a lot of word of mouth that kept him busy for most of the winter, but now just as spring was finally here, the beginning of what should be a carpenter’s busy season, there was nothing. There was probably a lot of talk about mortgages, bills, and past due notices. And also some talk about kids who wanted to go to college and dwindling bank accounts.
I pushed my feet against Tyler’s front porch, causing the swing we sat on to sway. “Dad’s not really a talker,” I said.
“Maybe he does a lot of listening.”
“The winter was better than we thought it was going to be. I thought that would make him feel better.”
Tyler rubbed the inside of my palm. “How long has it been?”
“About four years,” I said, remembering the day Dad came home with the news that he would no longer have a job by the end of the week. With his knowledge and experience, I thought he would have no problem finding a job. But all this time later and Dad was still on the hunt…at least I thought he was. It didn’t occur to me until that moment that maybe Dad had given up looking for steady work.
A strong breeze with a slight bite to it swept through the porch as Tyler burrowed his head into my shoulder. “That’s a long time.”
“And it seems like it’s going to be even longer,” I sighed.
We sat in silence for a few moments, lazily rolling our ankles in unison to keep the swing moving. Tyler laced his fingers through mine, my favorite way to hold hands. “Then it’s a good thing he has that group.”
“I just didn’t think it was that bad,” I said.
“Maybe the people in that group help him remember that he’s not the only one. That there are other people out there struggling to find a job and take care of a family, just like him.” It sounded so logical when Tyler said it. “Things don’t have to be terrible to need a reminder.”
“I know he’s embarrassed about it,” I said. “It’s fine when he’s busy and working on something but when the job is coming to an end or he’s waiting for the next one to come along, he stays in his bedroom until Robert and I leave for school. Like he’s jealous we have some place to go and he doesn’t. Or maybe he doesn’t want to remind us that he doesn’t.”
“That’s sad,” Tyler said.
I nodded. “It makes me kind of sad to think about it.”
Tyler suddenly stood up. “Come on.” He reached back to take my hand again.
“I have to get going soon,” I took Tyler’s hand. “I told my mom I’d get Robert in a little while.” As I stuffed Tyler’s hand and my hand into the pouch of my sweatshirt, I wondered how late I could be picking up Robert before he got really pissed and told Mom I forgot about him. “Where are we going?”
“I want to go somewhere with you,” Tyler said, leading me across the street.
I raised my eyebrows to myself. “Some place you take all your boyfriends?”
Tyler stopped walking. “Some place I haven’t been in a long time but now I want to go there and I want to go there with you.”
I felt the smile fall off my face when Tyler turned to face me and I got a good look at the butterflies that arched over his eyebrow. The swelling on the one side of his face was practically gone, but there were still purple and yellow swirls under an eye and across part of his forehead. “I’ll go anywhere with you,” I said, knowing I meant it in every sense.
CHAPTER 24
TYLER
I smiled and squeezed David’s hand, picking up my pace. “It’s just a few blocks from here.”
If I wanted David to understand that his dad needed support and that he had support, maybe I needed to take my own advice and finally tell someone about the thing I never thought I would ever tell anyone about.
David didn’t say anything as I dragged him down the sidewalk. Since he didn’t know where we were going, he had to let me take the lead and that seemed to relax him a little bit. We walked silently. David must have sensed my urgency. The only time we strayed from the sidewalk was when a group of boys about Robert’s age came whizzing by on skateboards and we had to walk on someone’s lawn for a few steps.
I kept my eyes on the passing cracks in the sidewalk and looked down a street before hurrying across.
“Are we having a race or something?” I heard the laugh in David’s voice as we hurried to catch up. “You’re going to win so don’t worry about it.”
“We’re almost there.”
Knowing the close proximity to where we were headed, I felt a dull ache stretch across the back of my shoulders. Another block to go.
“We’re here.” I stopped.
“We are?” David asked, looking around. There was sidewalk to our right and left, but right in front of us, the sidewalk abruptly turned into a limestone path that led into a forest preserve full of trees that were just starting to get their buds for spring.
The night it happened, the mass of trees coupled with the dusk sky made it look like something from a kid’s nightmare. I thought it was ridiculous that I let myself think the forest was full of bad guys. As if on cue, another biting breeze rustled the branches and swirled around David and me.
I dug my fingertips into the back of David’s hand. “Yeah, follow me.” Clumps of tall, gray trees quickly surrounded us. Our shoes plodded along in an uneven rhythm on the path still wet from the winter. The sound alone made me want to run back to the sidewalk but David anchored me at his side. “The last time I was here, I was by myself,” I said to the gravel ground. “It was almost two years ago.”
“Really? This seems like a good place to do some running. Much better than the circles around the track,” David kicked a larger piece of limestone further down the path. “I always thought that had to be kind of boring.”
“Yeah, I thought so too.” I nodded my head but it felt like it was detached from my body. The path looked long and never ending. I stared down as far as I could like there was a finish line somewhere in the distance.
I felt David’s eyes on me. He stopped walking, forcing me to do the same. Standing in front of me, blocking the imaginary finish line, David looked me in the eye. “What happened?”
And I told him. Told him about the evening run that seemed like a good idea. How I wanted to try to run the whole twenty-mile trail before the end of the summer. About how it was getting darker but I thought I could do one more mile. About distant laughter that got closer as approaching feet slapped on the limestone. I had no idea how many? Shouts of “Cocksucker,” “When did they start letting fags come here,” and “How’d you like
this up your ass?” About something hitting me in the back, right between the shoulders. And then something else. About skidding on the limestone and falling. About being crumpled on the ground when something else hit me. About getting up and running. And running. Running all the way home. About sitting on the porch. About not doing or saying anything.
No inflection. No emotion. As if I read from a teleprompter about something that happened to somebody else.
“Oh my god,” David said, wrapping me in his arms. The bruised side of my face rubbed against David’s, but it didn’t hurt. David also put his head on my shoulder and I was grateful that we were practically the same height.
I wasn’t sure how long we stood like that. Random breezes and distant voices coming from the path’s entrance were the only things that indicated a passage of time. Eventually, David broke away from me but clutched my hand and we walked back to the entryway and out of the forest preserve that really did house villains from nightmares.
CHAPTER 25
DAVID
I didn’t want to think about my phone in my pocket, urging me to check the time since I wasn’t sure how long Tyler and I had been gone. Mom said I had an hour and a half and what I really wanted was forever. Or at least a couple more hours.
The thought of Tyler curled up in a ball on the ground helpless to defend himself from some stupid fucks was too much. Instead, I thought of when I stepped out of the weight room side door last summer, the one that led outside, and walked to a nearby drinking fountain. I would work out in the morning and ump games in the evening. The water in the drinking fountain was lukewarm and tasted a little funny. When I turned around, I saw Tyler rounding the track in a pair of blue running shorts and no shirt. His dark blonde hair even darker since it was soaked with sweat. He glided right by me, and I didn’t wipe the water dripping down my chin. The stride. Arms pumping at his side. Everything about him looked confident. I not only wanted to be like him, I wanted to be with him.
“Nobody knows about that,” Tyler said once we were back on the sidewalk and walking back to his house. “I never told anyone. Not even when I started going to SAFE.”
“Did you want to tell them?” I don’t know if I would have told Mom and Dad about anything that was going on with me if Mom hadn’t caught me picking a fight with the kitchen cabinets last week.
“No. Just going there was enough to make me stop thinking about it for a little while.”
“Do you have any idea who it was?” If Tyler could give me the smallest clue, maybe I could find them. I wanted to find them, tie them to a backstop, and hit line drives at them.
Tyler just shook his head. “I never saw them. Just heard them. And it was getting dark.”
I shook my head, trying to comprehend what Tyler went through that night and then last week with Kevin. “Do you think about it a lot?”
“Up until a few days ago, not really.”
“I’m sorry.” I looked down.
“For what?”
“For you getting hurt.”
“Don’t be,” Tyler shrugged. “I’m back to loving you again.”
I tripped even though there was nothing in the sidewalk blocking my path. I glanced at Tyler, who kept on walking as if he just said the sky was blue. I smiled slyly and gave Tyler a sideways glance. “It took getting your head bashed on a bathroom sink to realize you love me?”
“I knew I loved you before I got my head bashed on a bathroom sink,” Tyler said. “It took that to make me realize that I still love you.”
“Cool,” I said, feeling my cheeks get hot and a silly grin spread across my face. “I love you too.” I’d never said it before but it felt natural. I liked it.
Tyler smiled at the sidewalk. “I was hoping.”
We walked up Tyler’s driveway and sat back down on the porch swing. I finally checked my phone. If I didn’t leave in the next three minutes, I would definitely be late picking up Robert and I’d never hear the end of how I forgot him.
Tyler and I turned to each other at the same time and we laughed a little. Tyler kissed me first. Then I kissed his forehead, the butterflies above his eye, his cheek, and finally his mouth. We’d never kissed on the porch during the day before. Robert would have to wait just a little bit longer.
CHAPTER 26
DAVID
Tyler did go to school the next day and just like he predicted, questions and turned heads greeted him in every class. While it was pretty clear that Tyler got into a fight, no one knew who it was that threw the punches except for me and now Mr. Landry. I assumed Kevin didn’t brag about it because he knew he would definitely get in trouble. Since there was no denying his role, Kevin’s dad couldn’t appeal the suspension or go to any higher-ups to insist his son was being unfairly punished.
Even with so many things still up in the air, I felt lighter knowing Tyler was back at school. I couldn’t remember the last time I had ever enjoyed a period of Art Appreciation so much and it had nothing to do with the slide show and discussion of street art and graffiti as actual art.
At lunch, Mike again sat with Carrie’s friends and their boyfriends. He happened to look up just as I walked by with my usual sandwich, ready to eat it on the way to the library and look up White Sox stats and predictions for the upcoming season. There were worse ways to spend a lunch period.
“Hey David,” a guy named Jason looked at me from under a fringe of hair that almost hung in his eyes. I remembered him from the few times we all hung out together.
I nodded a greeting since my mouth was full, noticing that Mike seemed to grip the table as I approached.
“You want to sit with us?” Jason asked, moving his chair over.
“He can’t,” Mike said. “He’s got a paper to write.” He wound his ankles around the chair legs.
“Nope.” I shook my head, looking directly at Mike. “The 1984 paper was due last week.” The muscles in Mike’s arms flinched. “But there is this Spanish project I have to work on. Thanks, though.”
“All right,” Jason said as I walked away. “See ya’.”
If Tyler could survive an attack in the forest preserve and be in the same building with Kevin without hiding in the bathroom then I could stand up to my best friend. Even if I hated that I even had to stand up to him.
Tyler had to go to a short meeting about the outdoor track season and I was going to give him a ride home after so we could continue taking advantage of the precious free time that would be gone next week. After going to my locker, I slowly walked the hallway that led to the athletic wing of Lincoln, killing time until the end of Tyler’s meeting.
“And that’s when I said, ‘Are those books really happy or do they like to have sex with each other? Is that why they’re gay?’” An excited high-pitched voice came out from an open classroom door. I cocked an ear toward the direction of the voice.
Then I heard a polite laugh. “Good one, Anna. What did your teacher say when you said that?”
It was Ms. Larson. I was right outside her room. Sometimes I saw her standing outside of it but I hadn’t seen her since that day in the library. She was erasing the day’s lesson from the whiteboard and I remembered how she managed to fill the board with information almost every day. Ms. Larson always used a different color for each definition or note, insisting that a variety of colors made the board more interesting to look at. A girl sat on the center desk in the front row, swinging her legs. Even from out in the hallway, I could see that she had white canvas shoes with thick rainbow laces.
“He said that The Scarlet Letter could hardly be considered to have a cheery mood given how it’s about the Puritans and that Logan should probably read the book so he could find a better word to use to describe it.”
Ms. Larson put down her eraser. “Hopefully Logan heeds his advice. I think your teacher handled that really well.”
The girl, Anna, hopped off the desk and began moving the desks around into a circle. “Well, I just wanted to tell you that story before everyone got he
re. I know I usually bother you with something that made me mad or how stupid people are, but today I had a good story and figured you would want to know about it.” Anna cocked her head to the side. “Well, I guess there was some stupidity, but the good kind of cancels it out.”
“I’m glad you focused on something positive. It’s easy to get caught up in the negative,” Ms. Larson said.
I wished I had been in Anna’s class today, even though I read The Scarlet Letter last year and never wanted to read it again. But, I didn’t think I’d have anything in common with Hester Prynne and the ‘A’ that made her an outcast and was surprised that I was able to connect with a single mother suffering through life in the 1600’s.
I had no idea who this Anna girl was, obviously she was younger than me, but maybe if I had a class with her and had seen her rainbow shoelaces every day or met Allie earlier I wouldn’t be dealing with a secret boyfriend with a busted up face, an angry best friend, and nonexistent post-graduation plans.
“Hey, David.” Adam strolled past me with a wave and whistled a nondescript tune like he was walking through a park in an old movie.
“Hi, Adam,” I said to the empty hallway since he was already inside Ms. Larson’s classroom by the time I responded.
“Adam,” I heard Anna exclaim. “Ms. Larson got the permission slips for the dance. Are you going to go?”
“Probably.” I saw Adam put his bag on one of the tables where I remembered doing science experiments freshman year. Adam then went to the whiteboard, settled on a marker color and wrote “agenda” at the top of the board.
Two girls approached me from the other direction, a short blonde in a Lincoln High School student council T-shirt and the other, a tall girl with brown skin that looked like she should be a ballet dancer. They walked in sync but were focused on their phones as they turned into Ms. Larson’s classroom.