Inside The Mind Of Gideon Rayburn

by Sarah Miller

  In short, God's country.

  "I'm depressed,17 Gideon says.

  "It's the Vicodin, dude," Cullen says. "It uses up all the serotonin, the stuff in your brain that makes you feel happy and good about yourself, and then the next day, you don't have any left."

  Someone might have told me that before I took the thing, Gid thinks bitterly. I think someone did. I think he was high when they said it.

  But the reason Gid's really mad is that when Cullen came up to the room where he knew that he'd slept with Pilar, he didn't ask him a single question. He wasn't at all excited for Gid. It was just like he assumed nothing happened. All he said was, "Get your stuff. And don't talk in the car. Nicholas slept with Erica by accident, and he's in a bad mood."

  How do you sleep with someone by accident? Of course this annoyed Gid too. Here he is, trying to sleep with people on purpose, and well...oh...never mind.

  They stop so Nicholas can use the bathroom at a Shell station. Gid decides to give Cullen one more chance to

  ask him a question. "Pretty amazing house," Gid says. Tots of space. Totally quiet last night considering...all the people that were there."

  Not a word.

  Gid decides he can either get apeshit mad or become his own Pilar cheerleader.

  Pilar. Pilar. Pilar! She did sit for a long time with her butt pressed up against him. She did share with him a strong, mind-altering prescription drug. She did spend the night next to him. These thoughts are velvety smooth and soothing and beautiful. He curls up to them and falls asleep.

  He dreams that he and Pilar are swimming in the ocean outside the Winchesters' house. He has the sense, in this dream, that the house belongs to them, that it is the future, that they are adults, that they are rich but playful. Pilar whoops and laughs and pelts him with colorful shells. They're having a great time until one of the shells turns out to be a big gray rock. It cuts his head. He bleeds. Pilar shrugs and slips into the surf.

  When he wakes up, the car has stopped. Out the window, he can see the square top and spindly tower of the Prudential Building. He smells pot. Cullen sits in the drivers seat now, and he passes a lit joint to Nicholas. "It's not going to be as weird as you think," Cullen is saying to Nicholas. "You shouldn't feel so guilty about girls. They don't do anything they don't want to do. And they're not as innocent as you think, okay?"

  "Okay," Nicholas says, his voice surprisingly childlike.

  Nicholas's tone surprises Gid; it surprises me too. Even more surprising to Gid is Cullen's consoling and advising Nicholas. Gid feels himself start to soften, just a little. Cullen truly seems to want Nicholas to feel better. And Nicholas truly seems to be hanging on Cullen's assurances. A guy like Cullen must be a great comfort to a guy like Nicholas. As much as Nicholas prides himself on being in control, Cullen reminds him that he might still survive if he lost it.

  Up to the right, Gid sees an apartment window decorated for Halloween, with orange and black ribbons sprayed with some sort of synthetic, cobwebby stuff. He groans. Isn't September 27 a little early for Halloween decorations? "I can't believe I have to go back to school and get some girl to fall in love with me, even though I'm in love with some other girl," he says.

  Cullen and Nicholas turn around. Their faces light up when they see Gideon's awake.

  "Did you guys go buy pot while I was asleep?" Gid asks. "Because this car smells like pot really seriously. I mean, I know you guys are smoking it, but it also smells like we're growing pot in the car."

  Cullen hangs over the seat and cups Gid's face in his hand, the way Pilar did last night. He reaches into the pocket behind his seat, producing a baggie bulging with marijuana. "This," he says, "awesome pot. We just got from Mickey's brother at B.U." He puts the pot back. "And what you've got coming is some of that"—he hands Gid the lit joint—"and some guidance."

  Gid accepts the joint and puffs, listening.

  Cullen continues, 'The time has come to go to the place where men who have lost their way can find it in the wisdom of men who have gone before them."

  "What?" Gid asks. "Are we going to a museum?"

  "No, stupid," Cullen says. "And let me assure you that I mean 'stupid' in the nicest possible way. We're going to a bar."

  They walk across a mostly empty parking lot full of sad-looking cars, the undercarriages rotted brown with salt and rust, most of the back windows decorated with Patriot and Red Sox decals. Cullen leads them through the metal door of a squat, brick, industrial-looking building. There's no sign on it, but a small faux brass plaque in the brick vestibule reads dempsey's Tavern: Serving the Community Since last Tuesday.

  The bartender, a broad-faced, fortyish Irish guy, comes toward them with such a swagger that even as he moves forward the upper part of his body still seems to be moving backward. He looks Cullen straight in the eye and asks, "How old are you?"

  Cullen takes a bill out of his wallet. On the brown Formica bar top is a coffee can bearing a hand-lettered sign: TWENTY-SIX PLUS Six EQUALS ONE. (I know what this is! It's about Southern Ireland and Northern Ireland becoming united.) In the corner of the sign is a little shamrock. Cullen stuffs the bill into the can. "I don't know how old these guys are," he says, "but today is my one hundredth birthday."

  The man grimaces. He reminds Gid of Cockweed, except that where Cockweed is the kind of guy who shakes with rage, this guy looks like he'd snap you in two with one hand and pour a shot with the other. "Go sit over there. And try not to be too loud."

  Gid's dad doesn't drink. He's in AA because he used to drink about seventeen giant Coors Lights a day and do cocaine. (Gid doesn't know about the cocaine thing, but I do, because Gid knows somewhere in his mind about it, and I am a lot better at sifting through that stuff than he is. Another thing Gid doesn't know: Pilar was late to school partly because of her sister's wedding, but mostly because she had to fly to London to be fitted for a custom pair of Costume Nacional boots.) As far as the bar, Gid likes being here. There are no windows. The door is upholstered in red vinyl and so are the booths along the wall. Gid feels a million miles away from everything—almost as wonderful as being up in that room with Pilar. Up in the far corner is a smallish color TV broadcasting a Red Sox game. Ten customers, all well over fifty, contently drink and watch the Sox win. If any of them give a shit about the three prep school kids settling into the corner booth, they don't say so.

  Nicholas goes off to get them drinks. Cullen leans in and looks right into Gid's eyes. "I knew you wouldn't nail Pilar," Cullen says. "That's why I didn't say anything."

  So Cullen's not completely clueless. He knew that was bugging Gid.

  "I know you wouldn't let me down. I know that even with Nicholas pulling his little Vicodin trick on you, you'd stay cool."

  "Trick?" Gideon says. "I don't understand."

  Cullen leans back on his arms, surveying the bar as if it were his hangout and he weren't five years underage. "Yeah, trick. He thought you and Pilar, all mellowed out, all groovy, would get it on. I knew you'd resist."

  They thought he resisted?

  Nicholas walks up. "You have to admit it was a pretty good idea," he says, setting down three pints of black beer. The glasses say Guinness. So Nicholas is drinking too. "I mean, I deserve some credit."

  "Dude, when it comes to you, I am Senor Credit," Cullen says. "I always say you are smarter than me. You're just not as lucky. I know a thoroughbred when I see one." Cullen takes Gid's arm and raises it over his head. "My man."

  They thought he resisted?

  This outpouring of support and confidence from Cullen about Pilar—the idea that Gid didn't have sex with Pilar was because he was behaving himself for the bet—should Gid actually believe it? Did Cullen actually think Gideon had dictated the terms of how things with Pilar had gone, or rather, not gone? Or was he pulling a self-serving flattery thing?

  Fuck it. He feels comfortable enough to ask some questions. "So," Gid begins, "I just want to get your...input on something. There's the whole bet thing with
Molly, right? But then what about...I really like Pilar a lot. And I know I have to put all this energy into Molly, but it's kind of hard to commit to it when...you know. Pilar."

  Nicholas snorts. Cullen shakes his head. "I'm losing you," he says.

  Nicholas, who generally gets things about an hour before Cullen does, laughs and says, "When you do get it, you're not going to believe it."

  It's difficult for Gid to proceed in light of this comment, but he manages.

  "Because," Gideon says, "once I have sex with Molly, I'll be going out with her, for a while, and..."

  Cullen looks at Nicholas, sharing his pain. Then he shakes his head at Gid.

  "Why?" says Cullen.

  "Well, because," Gid says. He feels like he's being asked to explain why you get wet after jumping into a lake. Across the room, the old-timers shout, raising their arms weakly over their heads. The Red Sox scored. Wonderful. Gid sighs and goes on. "You have to, like, work up to the whole thing, and you know, get the girl to like you, and then, you know, after you do it, you can't just be like, 'Oh, I lied.'"

  Cullen smacks Gid's head with his hand. "You don't have to say that you lied. You just say you're a guy."

  "Okay," Gid says, like that all makes sense to him. Shit, he thinks. I can't do that. I mean, I guess I will, but I'm not looking forward to it.

  Cullen must sense Gid's lack of caddish resolve, because he gets up, places his hands squarely on Gid's shoulders, and focuses on him the full force of his winning personality, it's truly overwhelming. Gid takes in the light in Cullen's eyes, the glint in his smile, and the glow of his skin. He feels taken care of, adored, even though he knows deep down it's partly an illusion. "My friend," Cullen says, "how would you like to know the terms of the bet?"

  "It could be a great relief to you," Nicholas says. "Because if you thought you were the only one putting yourself on the line and—"

  "You're not!" Cullen interrupts.

  "Right. And if you know a little more about what's at stake," Nicholas adds, "well, maybe you won't think we're such total assholes."

  "I would like to know," says Gideon. "But I'm probably not going to stop thinking that you're assholes."

  They laugh. The tide is changing here. The love grows. Almost makes you think male bonding is really sweet and innocent. Ha.

  Shots are purchased. Cullen and Gid drain the shots. "Okay," Cullen says. "If I win, I get to have sex with Nicholas's sister." He nods at Nicholas.

  "If I win," Nicholas says, "Cullen has to go out with one girl for an entire year. And she has to go to our school, so that he has to see her every day. He can't cheat. If she breaks up with him for any reason, he has to find another girl and start again. At day one."

  The terms of the bet—which involve Cullen's having sex and Nicholas essentially only bearing witness—are of course painfully homoerotic. Of course, this is prep school. So Where's the big shock there?

  "We're not just talking school year either," Cullen says. "An entire calendar year. Which means behaving in the summer—the season in which I'm accustomed to doing my best work."

  Gid doesn't know what to say. He's in shock. He's flattered that the stakes of the bet are so high.

  Cullen and Nicholas nod gravely.

  Totally unaware that I know they are so incredibly gay.

  Cullen leans across the table. "We're telling you this so you realize that this whole thing...it's all a game. I mean, the whole thing is so crazy, how can we not make a game out of it? Girls get caught up in the moment in their way—romance, love, whatever—and you get caught up in the moment in your way. With sex."

  "How? How do we get caught up in sex?"

  Cullen raises an eyebrow. "Because you're fucking? Girls get caught up in the love part, and we just get caught

  up in the thing itself. And the game part, the bet, and then, getting back to what you were calling lying and what I would just call being a guy, well, it's just part of how guys and girls just do this whole thing."

  "Oh, right. Okay." Poor Gid thought he was about to get some useful advice. Maybe next time. At least I find Cullen and his occasional philosophical sidetracks fascinating.

  "Anyway," Cullen says, "I may have said some things to Fiona I won't mean forever..."

  What an incredible turn of phrase to get around the word lie

  He continues, "But Fiona's going to be fine. Erica's going to be fine. Honestly, and I really mean this, we are preparing them for life. I mean, in a way, a girl meets a guy like you, and she could actually go through the rest of her life thinking guys are sweet and caring and nice. And what kind of good is that going to do them?"

  You know, in a really disgusting, morally bankrupt way, Cullen's got a point.

  And maybe it's just the weird stupid clarity of two Guinnesses and a shot of whiskey gorgeously killing his Vicodin hangover, but it's all making incredible sense to Gideon.

  On the walk back to the car, more doctrine on the subject of girls is drilled into Gideon's head. It's not about a girl; it's about girls. You don't worry about one specific girl, because there are always more. Molly can just be part of a master plan, which involves putting off Pilar, and then having sex with her. And maybe he could even have sex with both of them. "Remember how you refused to fool around with Mija, and immediately, Madison was on your jock?" Cullen points out. "When you start having girls hit on you and you turn them down, or better, when other girls see that you have sex with other girls and then blow them off, you totally increase your chances of being able to get anyone you want. Dig?"

  Gideon decides Cullen is snowing him a little. For sure. Cullen makes it sound as if Mija had been really into him. And Madison, well, wanting to have sex with Gid so she could show a video of it to her boyfriend, that's a far cry from being on his jock. He's going to have to talk to someone about this.

  "I would like to say something about Pilar, if you're ready to hear it," Cullen says.

  "Yes," Gid says. "Of course." This is his dream. He wishes she were all they talked about. Anything to make it feel, even if it's only in his mind, that she is part of his life.

  "I can see why you're so into her. She's really smart, but she totally has the body of a stupid person," Nicholas says.

  Cullen nods. "It's a lethal combination."

  The campus they pull into is the campus of Gid's daydreams, cozily dark, yellow lights twinkling in the dorms, fresh-faced students bundled in fall layers just starting to trickle from their studies to dinner. Among them, coming up the campus road three abreast, just as they did on Gid's very first day of school, are Molly McGarry, Edie Bell, and Marcy Proctor.

  Gid spots them first. Molly's wearing a blue pea coat and a black wool hat, with her hair tucked up underneath it. Her head is bowed with an air of scholarly duty. I'm jealous of her, Gid thinks, surprised. She looks so self-contained, so unconcerned with anything but her own thoughts. He closes his eyes and intones a short, fervent prayer that Cullen and Nicholas won't see her.

  But Cullen's eyes light up. "Ho, ho! What have we here!"

  Nicholas looks out the window and nods. "You should probably talk to her," he says.

  Gid wants to say something about how now doesn't seem like the right time, but it seems even less like the right time to say that. Nicholas slows down.

  Edie, her giant saucer eyes framed by lank hair, stares at the ground. Bright, cheerful, direct, Marcy says "Hello" and "How are you?" perhaps a little too friendly, probably blushing at Cullen's interest, however indirect. Molly looks suspicious. Not only that, she walks right up to the car, leans down, and sniffs. She sniffs again. Gideon looks down her shirt. She's wearing a white bra. Padded? He can't tell.

  "Hi, Molly," says Gideon. What should he say next? How was your weekend? How are you? What's going on? He's weighing his options when Molly speaks up.

  "Your car smells like pot," Molly says. For a split second, Gideon feels proud of himself. Attractively outlawish. Though there's nothing in her tone to suggest she's impr
essed. Girls have to be impressed with you, Gid knows, in order to have sex with you, but you can't try to impress them. Cullen and Nicholas are sort of laughing. Not too hard. Not denying anything, not admitting. Gid imagines he should laugh too. He's about to start when, a hundred yards or so up the road, he sees a figure coming toward them. The figure is tall, with a serious, adult gait.

  Marcy notices the figure at the same time. "Oh, God!" she says. She smoothes her blonde hair with a flat hand, and, grabbing the strap of Edie's ubiquitous book bag, takes off with her.

  "Oh, great," Nicholas says. He squints up the road. They all do. There's definitely someone coming, a large person.

  "Holy shit," Cullen says. "Captain Cockweed."

  The figure is still pretty far away, but when he raises his hand as if he wants to talk to them, no one misses it. Now they can't just take off. It would look weird. It would look like they had pot.

  "Your car stinks," Molly says matter-of-factly. "I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if he could smell it from up there. Not that he would ever put two and two together and suspect a nice group of boys like you." Her smile blazes with sarcasm. But when she turns to look at Gid, her face softens into concern. Maybe she's affected by the terror in his eyes. Maybe it's just a burst of altruism, or one of those weird sensations that seemingly comes from nowhere that makes you want the next minute of your life to be really, really exciting.

  "Give it to me," Molly says. "Hurry up."

  Gid unzips the compartment. Now the smell is stronger, so dense it almost seems to have weight and texture. How could they not have noticed it before? "Hurry up," Molly says, "before he can see who I am." But before he can hand it to her, Molly reaches into the car and grabs it from him with considerable force. The momentum makes her stumble back a few feet, but then she pivots and takes off running through the dark patch of the quad.