The Telling

by Eden Winters

  “Is he good to you?”

  “Yes, he is,” Michael agreed, summoning a certain instance of ‘good’ from the previous night, one that made him want a rematch. “In fact, he’s on his way here now to take me out to lunch.”

  Sounding more like the playful kid that Michael remembered before Iraq, Ryan asked with a leer in his voice, “Is he hot?” just as a knock sounded on the door.

  Phone cradled against his good ear, Michael opened the door to find a grinning Jay, dressed in a black band T-shirt, blue jeans, and a pair of flips-flops. Michael grinned and said into the phone, “Oh, yeah!”

  ***

  They entered the restaurant and found a booth near the back, away from the windows, ordering a large pepperoni to share. Jay ordered a soda and Michael a glass of water. While waiting for the pizza, Jay opened the conversation, “So, Michael, have you decided what you’re gonna take this fall? You’re still going back to school, right?”

  Between bites of bread stick Michael replied, “I’m not sure. I know I need to do something soon, but can’t seem to feel right about anything.”

  “I know what you mean. I felt that way too, for a while. But I have uncles who are engineers, so I kind of fell into that.” Jay lacked the patience to a teacher like his mom and dad. “The more I got into the coursework the better I felt about my decision.”

  “And now you’re gonna graduate.” Michael’s enthusiastic grin disappeared. “You’re gonna leave once you graduate, aren’t you?”

  The door had opened, all Jay needed to do was step through it. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that.”

  “Then you are going,” Michael replied, half-eaten breadstick slipping from his fingers to the table.

  “I’m not sure yet, but if I do, I’d like you to come with me.”

  Jay waited for the reaction, the surprise on his lover’s face turning to an ear-splitting grin. “Really?”

  “Really. Although I’d understand if you wanted to stay here.”

  That beautiful smile fell. “So you’d still leave.”

  “If you don’t want to leave, then neither do I. That is, if you want me to stay. I’m sure I can find something around here, even if I have to work in Atlanta and live in Cookesville on the weekends.”

  The joy radiating on his lover’s face was more than worth the effort to rearrange his work plans. Michael asked, “You’d do that?”

  Jay winked and drawled, “You betcha.”

  Whatever reply Michael might have made was cut off by the arrival of their pizza. Again they lapsed into silence, alternating between munching pepperoni and grinning at each other. Michael spoke first. “Just like that, you’d give up your plans and stay here with me.”

  A no brainer. “You are my plans.”

  “What about your family? Aren’t they expecting you to come home?”

  Jay answered with mock indignation, “If I didn’t know better I’d think you wanted me to leave.”

  “No! I want you here. That is, if you want to be.”

  “Oh, I want to.”

  Michael drummed his fingers on the table, indecision etched on his face. “Would you consider moving in with me?”

  Even though that’s what Jay was hoping for, he had to be sure. “What about your mom? Won’t she take offense to that?”

  Michael grinned and reached into his pocket, bringing out a key and handing it to Jay. “Mom gave me that for you ages ago. You’ve also been programmed into the security system, it’s the last four digits of your phone number.” Michael shrugged, his face reddening. “She’s been calling you her son-in-law ever since Angie found you in my apartment that morning. Not only will she be thrilled, she’d be disappointed if it didn’t happen.”

  Still believing the situation was too good to be true, Jay ventured, “What about your grandparents?”

  “What have they got to do with us?”

  Very good point.

  “So, what do you say?”

  Michael looked so hopeful, still, Jay wanted to be sure that there would be no regrets later—he didn’t think he’d be able to handle that. “Are you sure? You know if I move in people will talk.”

  “Let ‘em.” Michael leaned in, his expression sincere. “There’s a lot of things I don’t know and a lot has me confused right now, but this is one thing I’m one hundred percent sure of.” He caught his lover’s hand in his and squeezed. “I want to be with you every chance I get.”

  ***

  The perfect moment shattered on a disgusted, “I knew you were nothing but a fucking faggot!”

  Michael glanced up from his and Jay’s clasped hands, pulling away when his worst nightmare rudely shoved people out of the way to get to their table.

  Horror swept over him as he watched the furious man’s approach, wincing at every expletive from the bully’s mouth. Time slowed and his fellow diners disappeared, his vision tunneling into a nightmare world inhabited by only himself and Crawford Shiller.

  He backed into the booth as far as he could go, desperately trying to make himself invisible. He was twelve years old again, small and defenseless. Back then he’d expected such treatment every time Mom’s back was turned. She knew some of what happened—Crawford verbal abuse—but she didn’t know the extremity, or how lasting the impact. And Michael didn’t tell her, for fear of the man turning his wrath on her or Angie.

  All those years of fear and cruelty came crashing down. Michael searched for an escape, too late—his former stepfather pushed his way into the booth, a litany of obscenities never once faltering. The reek of alcohol assailed Michael’s senses as the obviously drunk man pinned him in place.

  “I went and raised me a damn fag is what I did. I should have beat your sissy ass harder, that would have made a man out of you.” Jay shot around the table and grabbed Crawford by the arm. Crawford turned and snarled, “Get your fucking fairy hands off me, you damned Mexican queer!”

  Michael broke his trance in time to see Crawford draw back his arm, preparing to punch Jay. Reflexes kicking in before his brain, Michael reached out and wrapped a hand around the vile man’s wrist below the closed fist. He squeezed—hard. A bellow of pain rewarded his effort. The enraged bull of a man turned his attention back to Michael. “You’ll pay for that, you little… You ain’t no son of mine!”

  Years of biting his tongue welled up within, crashing down like a storm-driven wave. Kneeling in the limited space, Michael glared down at his hated stepfather. “No, as a matter of fact, I ain’t no son of yours, and I’m damned glad of it!” His grip on Crawford’s wrist tightened, causing another surprised yelp. Michael wasn’t cruel by nature, but he’d had enough. Now that the wave was cresting again it couldn’t be stopped, and he really didn’t want it to. It crashed down with devastating force.

  “I’d like to see you make me pay, you useless piece of shit,” he growled. At Crawford’s suddenly fear-filled expression, he only smiled sweetly and purred, “Guess what, you old loser? I’m not twelve anymore and I’m not a skinny, terrified child. You can’t hold hurting Mom over my head anymore, either.” The smile turned evil as he said the words he’d only fantasized about saying in the past. “It’s time for a little payback, Craw-daddy.”

  Eleven years of terror loaded the fist that caught the man in his jaw, sending him flying from the booth to slide across the tile floor and crash into an empty booth across the aisle. Crawford and Michael stared at each other, Michael shocked and disbelieving what had just happened.

  “What the hell is going on out here?” came an irate bellow from the vicinity of the kitchen door. Michael looked up to see a muscle-bound, bald-headed man crossing the restaurant, long legs making short work of the distance. He stopped and towered over Crawford where he lay sprawled on the floor. Hands on his hips, the man glared down.

  “I can explain,” Michael began, only to be cut off by Crawford, who seemed to have recovered what few wits he’d had.

  “I was just telling those faggots there that their
kind ain’t welcome around here,” Crawford shouted, apparently assured that he’d find backing from the burly man who somehow managed to look intimidating while wearing an apron.

  “Is that so?” the man replied, his eyes narrowing as he cast a suspicious glance at Jay and Michael. Once again Michael wished he could make himself disappear.

  Emboldened by what he must have considered support for his cause, the bully continued, “Yeah, we don’t want their kind. No one wants a bunch of queers around here.”

  “Is that so?” the man repeated, still glaring at the two men who had moments before been enjoying a pizza and a new milestone in their relationship. “So,” he barked, “is it true? Are you a pair of faggots?”

  When asked later, Michael wouldn’t be able to say what had come over him at that moment, but as it had with Crawford, his long denied anger bubbled to the surface. Raising his eyes to Jay’s, he silently asked a question.

  Jay brought his hand up and linked their fingers as they slowly stood together, presenting a united front.

  The annoyed man looked from them down to Crawford. “Looks like you’re right. Looks like I got some low-lifes in my restaurant. What do you think I ought to do about it?”

  “Kick their asses outta here—that’s what you ought to do!” Crawford wailed, bruised ego re-inflating now with victory on the horizon.

  “Well, I believe you’re right. I can’t be having low-life scum in my restaurant. Pal, I’ll have to ask you to leave,” the apron-clad man said in a tone that brooked no nonsense. “Now,” he added with a stern look that made even Michael want to back away slowly, even though that look wasn’t trained on him.

  Crawford staggered to his feet, dusting himself off and glaring at the man who he’d mistaken for an ally. “You ain’t heard the last of me!” he exclaimed, turning and glaring at Michael and Jay. That glare was then turned on the small audience the altercation had collected. “What the fuck do you think you’re looking at?” Crawford snarled.

  The proprietor took a step forward, backing the angry man toward the door, then took another and another until Crawford found himself literally herded from the establishment. The man then stood watching, as did Jay and Michael, making sure the drunken bully was really gone.

  Without turning around, the bald man called toward the back of the room, “Steve?”

  A rather non-descript man at a back table answered, “Yeah?”

  “I know you’re off-duty, but would you mind reporting a drunk and disorderly?”

  “I done did,” the man replied with a grin.

  “Thanks.”

  “It’s nothing. The asshole had it coming.”

  Throughout the exchange Michael stood still, hand growing sweaty in Jay’s grasp. The restaurant owner turned back, and in a quiet voice said, “Sorry ‘bout that. You boys okay?”

  Michael merely nodded, unsure of what to do next.

  The man tuned to Jay. “I’m sorry that you and your friend had to go through that; your pizza’s on me.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Michael blurted.

  A lazy smile curved the man’s lips, making him appear far less menacing than he had a few moments ago. “I know I don’t, but I want to. I want you boys to know you’re always welcome here.”

  Before Michael could stop himself, out tumbled, “Are you gay?”

  At that the man erupted into huge guffaws of laughter that rocked his whole body. When he calmed he wiped at a tear from his eye with a massive fingertip and replied, “Heavens, no. I ain’t gay, but I am a businessman. Jay and the Animal House…”

  “Zoo,” Jay corrected with a grin.

  “Okay, the Zoo provides me with plenty of good customers. I don’t care what you do in your personal life, and regardless of what that bigoted piece of shit might think, lots of other people in this town feel like I do. I just want you to do me one favor, okay?

  Michael glanced uncertainly at Jay before answering, “Sure. What?”

  “I don’t mind you boys sitting out here making eyes at each other or even holding hands, but if it goes further than that you’ll take it somewhere private, right?” The waggling of his brows took the sting from his words.

  Jay smiled and replied, “I think we can manage that.”

  “Fair enough. This is a family restaurant, after all. Now how would you boys like some dessert?”

  After the owner walked away Jay and Michael returned to their seats, waiting for the ice cream their host insisted was to die for. Michael warily glanced around at the other diners who, thankfully, had returned to their own tables and their own meals.

  One or two exchanged shy glances before looking away. Two young women smiled at them and, while pointedly maintaining eye contact, placed their hands on their own table where they could be seen, quite deliberately lacing their fingers together.

  Michael returned their smile, thanking them for their silent support. As the lunch crowd finished their meals and made their way towards the door, some averted their eyes, some softly mumbled, ‘Hi,’ or ‘Hello,’ and others made a point of stopping by the table to voice their disagreement with Crawford’s opinions.

  When Jay and Michael finally stood to leave, they did so hand-in-hand, earning themselves a giggle and a wave from the lesbian couple.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A warm and clear Friday evening followed the kind of Alabama day Michael had lived for as child, the kind that signaled the approach of summer with all of its promise. There was nothing quite so symbolic of the oncoming season as the young men and women he’d braved the great outdoors to be here for today. Down below the bleachers where he sat with his mother, sister, and grandparents, one hundred and seventy-three young adults would soon be experiencing one of the biggest moments of their lives. Although Michael was antsy and nervous about being outside and in such a large crowd of spectators, he’d sworn that his irrational fears weren’t going to rule him, especially not today of all days.

  Angie smiled and squeezed his hand. She seemed energized by the flurry of activity going on around them, and had spoken to so many people that he was beginning to suspect that she might very well know everyone in town. Dressed as she was in a flattering sundress, she drew plenty of appreciative male eyes her way. Michael smiled, patting the jacket he’d brought for when the sun went down and she suddenly discovered it was still too early in the year to be so scantily clad after dark.

  Quietly snuggled close to his other side, his mom inspected him, looking for signs that he wasn’t enjoying himself. He didn’t know what she’d do if he began showing signs of panic, and the frustrated little kid that still lived deep within was halfway tempted to test the notion, but he reined in that impulse. She was concerned about him because she loved him and he had no reason to be annoyed about that. Hopefully, she, like Angie, would soon learn to relax and stop worrying so much.

  On the other side of his mother, Grandma and Grandpa were lost in conversation with someone sitting on the bleachers in front of them. He watched them for a few moments, how they interacted with each other and how even a casual brush of fingers against the other’s hand seemed to be a form of intimate communication. The thought warmed him that, even though he never witnessed his mother in a happy relationship, he had learned how to have a meaningful one from the two of them, and, hopefully, how to make love last.

  Turning away and studying his surroundings, Michael willed himself to remain calm, reminding himself that nothing could harm him here. All was well and he was going to make the most of this once-in-a-lifetime event in his lover’s life, feeling privileged to be a part of it. The news that the graduation ceremony was going to take place outdoors had caused him some apprehension, but as Angie’s pinning wouldn’t take place until the next day, she offered to come with him and hold his hand. He’d taken her up on the ‘come with’ part, grateful for the support, knowing she’d be here to watch Jay and Terry graduate, anyway.

  There’d been a few tense moments upon their arrival just
as Michael was leaving the parking lot. Who should he come face to face with but Crawford Shiller? But instead of the mean, gloating expression the man usually wore, his blood-shot eyes had widened, he’d stammered incomprehensively, and then turned and quickly hurried away. The purple and black bruising around his left jaw was most gratifying. Michael should be ashamed of himself for enjoying another’s discomfort, but couldn’t help a moment of triumphant at scoring a direct hit against the man who had caused so much hurt and self-doubt. Thank goodness Mom, Grandma, and Angie were in the ladies’ room and didn’t have to see Crawford. Grandpa appeared ready to step up to the plate if necessary, but thankfully, it hadn’t turned ugly. Seeing the man flee had been good for Michael’s soul, and marked the beginning of closure for the young, frightened kid he had once been. It wasn’t over yet, but it was a definite step in the right direction.

  The women had rejoined them, none the wiser, and they found reasonably good seats in the rapidly crowding stands. The deep blue sky darkened around the edges as nightfall and the opening ceremonies approached. Man, but it was so good to be back in Alabama, a place Michael had dearly missed without even realizing how much it meant to him. His original plan to regroup and leave fell by the wayside. The last few weeks had Michael thinking that maybe settling down and making a life in Cookesville wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Of course, it wasn’t just him anymore, any major decisions would require input from his partner. Partner. He had a partner.

  The sun started to set and the lights along the edges of the football field began to glow a soft fluorescent green, brightening as they came up to full wattage to light the way for the coming festivities. Conversation faded and then ceased entirely when the familiar strains of Pomp and Circumstance filled the air. Every eye trained on the doorway from which football stars normally emerged. Cap and gown clad hopefuls made their way across the field to rows of gray metal folding chairs. Michael craned his neck to catch a glimpse of his lover.

  Even in the shapeless ‘one size fits all’ navy blue robe, Jay’s height and ebony hair set him apart from those around him, making him easy to spot in the long procession. Those deep, piercing eyes swept over the spectators and Michael hoped that they would find him, though he knew it unlikely with so many people filling the stands. He watched Jay turn away and stand before a chair, waiting for the others to take their places before being seated.