“What’s it like to be a twin?” Rusty asked.
I thought about what a strange question that was even though people had asked me all of my life. “How would I know? I’ve never been anything other than a twin.”
“Do you still consider yourself a twin?”
“I’ll always be a twin,” I said, a little too defiantly.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to pry, I just…”
“No, it’s OK. I don’t talk about Sam as much as I should. I just keep him locked inside of me like a dirty secret. That’s what people do with death. They don’t know how to talk about it, so once the person is gone, they just shut up about it.” I looked out at the night lights passing us by on the road. “I don’t ever want to forget Sam, but I don’t want to live with him inside of me like a dirty secret forever, either. It just is, you know.”
And he did. I don’t know how, but he did and unlike anyone else since Sam’s death, Rusty didn’t make me feel weird about it.
When we got to the Indiana State Fairgrounds, I started to laugh. “I haven’t been here since I was kid. Are we going to the fair?”
Rusty nodded, “I’ve never been to a fair, so you have to show me around.”
We parked in the dusty parking lot, with the magical lights of the Midway shining in the distance like the bright lights of skyscrapers lit up from far away. We walked into the grounds, our senses immediately filled with corn dogs and sugary funnel cakes, rodeo calls and squealing kids, the lights of the Ferris wheel and the craziness of the carnival games. We ordered extra-large lemon shake ups and walked into all of the animal buildings, laughing at the sheep in their hooded nightgowns and the baby piglets with their huge mother. We bought fried cookie dough and fried burritos and ate them while we walked up and down the Midway, through the rides, people watching and making up stories about their unknown lives.
We played each other in five games of the squirt race until we had enough tickets together to trade them in for a giant elephant. Rusty said he wanted to name him Dumbo, because when he was younger, kids made fun of him for having big ears. I laughed, noticing his ears for the first time and let him carry the elephant.
“I think they’re cute,” I said, pulling on one of his earlobes.
Rusty laughed, “Let’s ride the Ferris wheel. I’ve never been on one.”
We bought tickets and waited in line. When it was our turn, we got into our seat and I noticed Rusty looked a little nervous as we pulled the guardrail tight against us. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” I said, kissing his cheek. It was cute to see him scared, because he always seemed so confident and in control.
Slowly, the Ferris wheel turned and our feet dangled under our seats. As we rose, we could see all of the lights of the fair and the people walking around began to look like game pieces. We could see past the vendors and rides, out onto the streets surrounding the fair and we could even see the buildings of downtown Indianapolis lit up in the dark. Finally, we reached the very top. I could feel Rusty tense up as he grabbed my hand. I looked over and his eyes were closed while his other hand gripped the guardrail for dear life.
“Open your eyes. You’re missing all of it.”
Rusty shook his head, “No, I’m good.”
I laughed, “Are you afraid of heights?”
“Uh, maybe a little. I just thought it would be romantic, but now I’m just ready to get off of here.”
“Seriously, Rusty, just open your eyes. Nothing is going to happen. I swear.”
I could feel his grip loosen a little on my hand and then he slowly opened his eyes. I watched as he took in all of the lights and the incredible view. His face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. “Wow.”
“Yeah, wow.”
He reached over and kissed me, really kissed me. And then he turned his head. “OK, I’m ready to go now,” he said, loudly. “Can we get this thing moving again?” he yelled.
I laughed. I had found the one thing Rusty Gonzalez was afraid of.
Uncertainty.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
When we got back to my house, Mom was already asleep and Alex was gone. He had been disappearing a lot lately, taking Mom’s car and not coming back until the next morning. I snuck Rusty up the back stairway and into my bedroom.
“Is this considered me sneaking in?” Rusty asked.
“It feels like it.”
We let Boo out and he immediately peed on the carpet before falling asleep on my hoodie on the floor. Rusty and I took out the candles and placed them around the room. As we lit each one, the room grew brighter and brighter, and the shadows of the flames bounced around the room like rays of sunlight on the bottom of a pool.
“I want to give you your anniversary present,” he said, reaching into his backpack.
“I thought you helping me discover my own style and finding out what I liked was your gift?”
He shook his head.
“Wait,” I said, “let me give you my gift first.”
I went down to my car and got Rusty’s present, which I had hidden in the trunk. I quietly crept back up the staircase and locked the door behind me when I got into my bedroom. I handed Rusty the plain paper bag. He opened it and looked inside. At first he looked confused, but then he started laughing as he pulled out the black pirate hat and matching eye patch I had bought him at the costume store.
“So you can be a pirate again,” I said. “And the patch is for your wounded eye.”
He reached up and touched his bruise, “Is it still bad?”
“I think it’s kind of hot.”
He reached over and kissed me. “This is the best. I love it.” He put the hat on and looked at himself in the mirror. “Not bad,” he said as he handed me a box wrapped in blue paper with a gold ribbon.
Rusty looked nervous, almost like he thought I wasn’t going to like whatever it was he was giving me. I slowly took off the paper, trying to be careful not to rip it. When I had it off, I folded it neatly and put it to the side with the gold ribbon on top.
I opened the box and pulled back the tissue paper. Underneath was a thick, dark blue, leather journal with gold edges on the pages. On the cover, engraved in gold was The Before Now and After Then.
“You said you loved journals and I wanted you to have one specifically dedicated to memories of us,” he said. “When I saw it, I thought it was perfect for you.”
It was perfect. I opened the book and found that Rusty had inscribed the journal to me. “To Danny. Time has no power when everything fits between the before now and after then. Memories can’t be counted in time. They just hang, suspended in our hearts. Thank you for the ride. I love you, Rusty.”
I looked up at Rusty and he had the most innocent smile on his face. “Do you like it?”
“I love it,” I said. “It’s beautiful.”
“Turn the page,” he said.
I turned the page and found a list written in his handwriting.
“Awkward Hellos, Black Jack Gum, Cool Hair, Private Dances, Anniversaries…the rest is yours to write.”
I didn’t know what to say. “This is the best gift anyone has ever given to me.”
“Better than a naked sleepover with a pirate?” Rusty laughed.
We crawled into bed, slowly taking off each other’s clothes, and curled into each other. We figured out new mysteries about each other and whispered to each other all night long, afraid to be discovered but relishing in the secrecy of our togetherness. The fact that it was forbidden made it even more magical and exciting.
Rusty fell back against my pillow, his arms over his head, wearing the pirate hat and eye patch.
“This is how I always want to remember you,” I said. He grabbed me by my arms and pulled me into him. And then he started speaking to me, quietly, in Spanish.
“What are you saying?” I asked, my voice barely audible.
“Shh,” Rusty whispered back. “Things I can’t say in English.” And then we turned over on our sides and st
ayed in that mystical place between being awake and almost falling asleep.
Rusty finally turned over to me and told me he needed to get home. “I’m sure my mom thinks I’m already home, but I don’t want to freak her out.”
We snuck outside to my car and I drove him home just as the sun began to rise. Sprinklers were watering the early morning lawns, singing their Sunday song, and the air was wet with late summer dew. When I pulled into Rusty’s driveway, he kissed me, told me to sleep in and we would see each other for dinner. I watched him quietly make his way into his house and then I drove home.
As I did, I looked in the rearview mirror and smiled at myself. For once I was happy. I was really, really happy.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
When Rusty opened the door the next night for dinner, he was wearing jeans and a short sleeved white shirt with a black tie. His hair was parted on the side again and he looked really handsome.
“Hey,” he said excitedly.
“Hey,” I replied, more nervous than usual. I had gone to the grocery store to buy him flowers, but I couldn’t find any that I liked, so I ended up leaving empty handed. “I was going to buy you flowers but I didn’t know what kind you liked.”
“Star gazer lilies. They’re my favorite. I like how they smell. I hate roses.”
“Me too,” I said. The fact was that roses reminded me of Sam’s funeral. There had been so many white roses at his funeral that I still associated the smell with the funeral home.
“Are you alright?” Rusty asked.
I looked down and kicked at the ground. I felt underdressed in my black t-shirt and Levis, which I had worn almost every time we were together because it was the only thing I felt comfortable in, and somehow this date seemed more official than the rest of the times we had been together.
“Yeah, I’m OK,” I said, smiling.
“Don’t lie to me Danny,” he said, walking outside and grabbing me at the waist. He caught my gaze and made me look at him. “What is it?”
I paused, “I don’t know. You just look so nice and I tried to buy flowers but nothing seemed right but I wanted to do it because you bought me flowers and…”
“Hey,” Rusty soothed, “stop trying so hard. I like you for you, Danny. I don’t want you to be someone you’re not.”
“I don’t know who I am. That’s the problem.”
Rusty sighed. “Well, I’m not going to spend the rest of the night trying to convince you how beautiful or wonderful I think you are. You can either enjoy the evening or I’ll find some other guy to fall in love with.” He started to turn away jokingly until I grabbed his arm. He turned around and kissed me hard. “But seriously, don’t be pathetic. It’s not cute. You’ll figure out who you want to be and until then, I love you exactly the way you are.”
I wondered if that was true. Would I ever feel comfortable in my own skin?
“So what’s on the agenda for tonight?” he asked.
“It’s a secret,” I said, smirking.
“I like secrets.”
We climbed into my car and backed out of the driveway.
“No hints?” he asked.
“Well, I was going to ask my mom for money so I could take you to dinner somewhere really nice. Then I thought maybe we could go see a movie. But then I asked myself, what would Rusty like to do?”
“And what did you come up with?” he asked.
“The ride, Rusty. Just enjoy the ride.”
And he did. For a while, he didn’t have any idea where we were going. When we got closer, I noticed the recognition on his face as he figured it out. Rusty looked out of the window and then turned to me, smiling. “What have you got planned?”
I parked the car and hopped out as the trunk popped. “Come on,” I beckoned. Lifting the trunk, I grabbed a blue and gold Michigan blanket I had found to mimic the colors of my journal and I slipped my arm under the handle of an antique woven picnic basket which was carefully prepared with our secret dinner. We walked through the grounds of Butler University, now mostly silent as students were getting ready for the week ahead.
“Are we going back to the gardens?” he asked, looking confused.
I shook my head, “Follow me.”
We walked up to Clowes Hall as crowds of people walked inside. “I don’t think they’re going to let you take the picnic basket inside,” Rusty said.
I turned around. “Would you please just let me do this? Trust me.”
He shrugged his shoulders and smiled as he continued to follow me. We walked around the crowds to the back of theater where the door to the service entrance was propped open. Outside, a police officer was playing a game on his cell phone. I motioned for Rusty to follow me quietly and we slid inside.
We were both laughing silently, trying to hold it in. I pointed to an elevator and Rusty followed me, both of us silent until the door closed and then we erupted into laugher.
“I thought we were going to get busted,” I said.
“I was sure of it.”
I hit the button for the top floor and the elevator began to rise. Once it reached the top, we got off and walked out into complete darkness. “We have the whole top floor all to ourselves,” I said.
We found an empty box seat and walked inside. I put the picnic basket on the ground, just as the MC announced that the evening’s concert was called Mixed Tape; The Symphony Plays the Hits of the 80’s.
Rusty looked at me and smiled. “I have the most amazing boyfriend in the world. This is so cool,” he whispered.
We stretched the blanket out and Rusty opened the picnic basket. Inside, he found two huge plates of cheese pizza and two half melted Frappuccino’s. On the side of each was written The Dusty.
I could tell he was genuinely surprised. As the orchestra tuned their instruments and started to play Modern English’s I Melt With You, we ate the pizza and slurped the drinks. When we were done, we put the food away and stretched out on the blanket, facing each other. After thunderous applause, the song changed to INXS’ Need You Tonight. Rusty played with my hair as his chest went up and down against mine.
“I wish we could just be like this forever,” I said.
“Me too.” Rusty whispered.
“Why can’t we?”
“Maybe we can. But for this moment, let’s just worry about now and enjoy the details,” he said. His lips grazed mine.
“Like the before now and after then?” I asked.
Below, the song changed to Poison’s Every Rose Has It’s Thorn. My dad had played it a million times in his car and I knew every word.
“Yeah. Those are the moments that matter the most,” he whispered, putting my hand over his heart. I could feel it pulsate to the rhythm of the song, and almost change to the beat of The Bangles’ Eternal Flame.
We turned, lying on our backs, staring up at the heavy, black metal rafters above us. As the song changed to U2’s With or Without You, I noticed something move. Rusty turned to his side and put his head on my chest, breathing deeply as if he were falling asleep. I searched the rafters, and saw an old man, sitting high above us on a mesh crosswalk. He saw me watching him and smiled, putting his finger to his mouth before pointing down to the stage below where he returned his gaze.
I closed my eyes and let the sounds of Phil Collin’s Groovy Kind of Love linger over me, as the smell of Rusty’s peppermint shampoo filled my nose. It felt amazing to be out in the open but so secretly tucked away, in our own little musical treehouse of sorts, forced into the dark while in plain sight, intimate and personal but unable to be shared, blending in as unnoticeable people.
We didn’t say anything else until the end of the concert. We just laid there in the warmth of the theater, hidden above all of the people.
When it was over, we took the elevator down, mixing in with the other people leaving the concert and no one noticed.
“Do you think music defines a person?” I asked as we walked back to the car.
I could tell he was thinking about
it. “No, I guess not.”
“I don’t think music defines you. I think people just like what they like. Some songs speak more to them than others,” I said.
“I guess you’re right. What songs speak to you?”
I laughed. “I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure that out.”
The night was perfect and still. “Look,” Rusty said, pointing up. “Another halo moon. That must be a record.”
I snickered, “You should never be a weather man based on your moon predictions. You haven’t been right once.”
Just then, Rusty’s phone started to ring. He answered it and started to talk to someone in Spanish. I could hear his mom’s panicked voice on the other end, and although I couldn’t understand what they were talking about, the fearful look on Rusty’s face was the same one I had seen on the Ferris wheel. He hung up the phone and turned to me. “It’s my sister. They had to rush her to the hospital. Can you take me there?”
I nodded and we rushed to the car.
I wasn’t sure of the way, so Rusty had to give me directions. I noticed he was crying and I wasn’t sure what to say.
“I’m sure she’ll be alright,” I said.
“How do you know?” he said accusingly.
“I’m just trying to be helpful.”
“Yeah, but how do you know?” he said again, the accent in the back of his voice growing stronger. “You don’t know.” He was really angry and tears were flooding his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Rusty. I didn’t mean…”
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