by Sam Elswit
“Dammit, no,” I said, pushing him away, “Nobody died.” I let out a sigh, finally giving myself a chance to catch my breath, “not yet anyway.”
“That’s not good,” Phillip said.
“Yeah, the old man took a turn for the worse. I might be leaving his place soon.” I informed him.
“I hate to be taking advantage of a sad moment, but isn’t that a good thing,” he maneuvered a little closer, “You know … for us?”
In my current mindset I’d somehow forgotten that he wanted me to move in. I let my head fall against the rack behind me. The cool metal felt good against my sun-beat head.
“Listen, that’s what I came here to say,” I said. Phillip looked absolutely giddy. I started wondering if maybe in another life I would have been the one to make him happy. Until I tell him the truth, that was still a possibility. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t considered the chance.
Phillip was eager. He would be like a doting housewife, but was that what I really wanted? It was great for a time, but love was more about having a partner than a subordinate. I didn’t want to bark orders and have them followed, I wanted an equal who understood what I needed before I needed it, and I in kind would know the same. I wanted someone like Joshua who had his own life outside of the relationship.
“I can’t be with you anymore Phillip,” I said.
His expression turned from giddiness to pure dread. The rage mounted within him.
“Can’t be with me?” he shouted, “What the hell, Isaiah? Were you just leading me on for the last nine months? No, you have to be joking. This is a test, right? This is what you say right before you say you’re going to move in with me.”
I shook my head no.
“This isn’t a test. I need to end this. New things have come to light and I don’t want to be the person that I was. I can’t do this anymore, Phillip.”
He walked over to the stack of pallets, pacing back and forth between them and me for a moment. I waited for him to plead, to beg to stay together, but he didn’t. Instead, he hammered his fist at the top pallet of the stack. The wood creaked under his assault. He continued, venting all the rage that he must have buried deep down while he was with me.
He struck until the wood splintered and his knuckles were bloodied. I wanted to stop him from hurting himself, but there was nothing I could say that would make him. After a while he stopped, leaning over the broken pallet, his head sinking between his shoulders as his hands held firm to the wood.
“How long?” he asked, simply.
“What?” I wondered.
“How long have you and that piece of shit Joshua been fucking?” he asked.
“I don’t like your tone,” I said.
“And I don’t like that asshole,” he said. He pushed off from the wood and paced away from the wood, throwing his hands in the air, “Did you know I went to high school with him?”
“I didn’t,” I replied.
“Him and his douchebag friends made my life a living hell, did you know that?” he said, “They picked on me all the time when they found out I was gay.”
I of all people know what it was like to be picked on for what you were; he didn’t need to say anything about that to me.
“We’re not in high school anymore,” I said, “People grow up, people change.”
“Not him!” he shouted, inches from my face. “Of all the people in the world you could leave me for, you decide to leave me for him.” A roar escaped from his throat, deep and guttural. I stood my ground, watching him fume and storm.
“If there’s one person you should be angry with, it’s me. Not him,” I said.
“I am angry with you!” he shouted back. He shook his head and marched over to the door, holding it open. “Get out.” He said, meekly. I pushed off from the rack and strolled to the door. Anything I said would only make him more upset, so I kept my peace.
The door closed quietly behind me, leaving me in the silence of the store. My footsteps echoed around the space, and from the back room as I listened closely I could hear the light sobs of Phillip. I kept walking out the front, trying my best to hold back my own tears. I really had grown fond of him. He was like a bright light in a dark street. You feel safe that the dark won’t find you until the sun would rise to snuff out the darkness as though it never existed.
Joshua felt as the sun. I hoped beyond hope that he would realize the same.
Chapter 14
Joshua
The hiss of the oxygen tank was the only sound in the room. The sun was just beginning to dip into the horizon, casting long shadows through the open curtains. I stood beside the door, unable to sit in a single place. The alarm beeped it excited tune which I muted as fast as I could. My hand snagged the pill bottle and drew out a pair of capsules which I held in one hand, a glass of water in the other.
“What the hell are you doing here?” dad asked.
I could barely contain myself as I heard his voice. I reached out with the water and pills which he shoved away with what little strength he had left.
“Take, them. Please. You’ll feel better,” I said.
“I don’t think they’ll do much at this point,” he replied, “I think this might be it for me.” He chuckled with his usual belly laugh. I couldn’t hold back anything anymore. I couldn’t see any of the arguments we’d carried for so long. I could only see the father that taught me how to ride a bike; the man that would play catch with me on spring mornings; and the man that would let me settle into the crook of his arm as I read my books.
I fell on top of him, hugging him tight. I couldn’t get close enough to the man I’d pushed away for so many years. He was cold to the touch, and weak. But, I still felt his arm wearily reach around my back.
“There’s a lot of shit in this world that’s going to get to you. Don’t let it,” he said. I laughed. I couldn’t tell if it was from sadness or from joy. It just escaped from my lips; something to occupy my mind. “I have one last thing to say,” he said, “It’s about your mother.”
I looked up into his old, weathered face. Until yesterday all I wanted to see was the grimace that came from me shoving my diploma and future at him, but now I just begged for one last smile.
“What’s that?” I half spoke, half whispered.
“Our final moments, I never told you about those because I didn’t think you needed to hear them. But, now is probably the best time since there won’t be another.” He pulled off the oxygen mask, I tried to push it back on but he brushed it away. “I was with her in the end. She held you for the first time and I could have sworn that she was brighter than the sun, just like the day I first met her. I begged her not to leave. I cursed you for taking her from me but she just put her hand on mine and put my hand on your head. My anger melted away as it had so many times before.” He reached up and put his massive mitt on my head.
“’Love him like you loved me,’ she said. Then I held her close as you cried. You cried for us both that day. I swallowed down the last bit of love, trying to hold on to it forever. But, I realized way too late that love isn’t something you hold on to; it’s something that you give. Don’t hold it in, let it out.” He tousled at the top of my head and smiled his broad toothy smile.
“I love you, dad.” I said.
“I love you too, son.” He replied. He exhaled as the final bead of light from the setting sun spilled through the window, letting the dark dominate the room. His body fell limp under me. I held him until the last ounce of heat left his body. My tears soaked his shirt.
I felt as though I was saying goodbye to not only my father, but my mother as well. I wanted to hear him tell the story about how he met my mother just one more time. I could repeat it blindfolded but it meant more when it came from his lips.
I released him and it felt as though a weight that I’d born for so long was finally lifted. All the hate and animosity that I carried drifted away and I wondered why I’d carried it for so long. The confusion in the back of my mi
nd dissipated and I knew what it was that I wanted.
Isaiah’s truck pulled up in front of the house. I hoped beyond hope that I hadn’t destroyed my chances with him. But, that would have to wait. It was time to let my father rest alongside my mother.
Chapter 15
Isaiah
I pulled on the slightly too small suit jacket I’d borrowed from Joshua. The last few days had become a blur. Each one spilled over into the next as a cascade of sameness and routine that ruined any chance for a real conversation. He’d shut down. I could barely ask him what he wanted on his eggs in the morning as he had little to no interest in answering.
He’d become a machine; waking at the same time every morning to join me on the usual tasks that came with taking care of the farm. However, there was a difference in the way he moved lately. Much more sure of himself, no hesitation, and ready to face any challenge. I was glad to have him as a partner. My arm was healing quickly, but sharing the workload made my recovery much easier.
In the early afternoon he would disappear with a shovel in hand. He’d told me that he had planned to dig the grave himself, just as his father had done for his mother. Joshua knew the only real place for him to be buried was alongside his wife, Mathilda.
I wondered how he would be if I hadn’t kissed him that day, would things have turned out the same? What if I hadn’t sent him the letter informing him that his father was dying? Maybe he wouldn’t have come at all; staying happy in his ignorance, and living a normal life with his friends at college.
No, what I did was right. He needed to come and see the end for himself. I knew it would hurt, but just like my arm, if he never dealt with the loss it would cause the wound to fester and tear at him until he was broken.
“It’s almost time to go,” he said as he leaned into my bedroom from the hallway. He wore his best suit. It was supposed to be casual but I would have kicked myself if I’d shown up to the old man’s funeral dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.
Seeing him dressed up caused me to swoon; he was an attractive man and his suit fit him nicely. He combed his hair back and shaved his chin. If I’d met him on the street I would have assumed he was a model by the way he held himself. Again, my heart ached.
The loss of his father wasn’t just hitting him hard, that empty bedroom was a constant reminder of my uncertain future. His father’s Will left him everything, as I expected. I had already packed one of my bags in preparation that the farm would be sold soon. The cold realization that I would be homeless soon festered inside my stomach; I’d been finding it hard to eat. I liked it here, no I loved it here. The sea of wheat reminded me of my own home and the joys that I’d had with my family before it was ruined. I came to see Joshua’s farm as my new home, and Bart had quickly become the father I wish I had. Even if Joshua wasn’t my partner in love, I could at least see him as a brother.
“Alright,” I said. I wrapped the tie around my neck and attempted to turn it into a Windsor knot. Joshua noticed my plight decided to help.
“It’s easier when you’re not wearing it,” he said.
“I wouldn’t know how else to tie it,” I replied.
He made quick work of it; the flutter of cloth was quickly turned into the knot I was searching for. He tightened it against my button up, the one article of clothing I was capable of contributing to this ensemble. Joshua’s hands lingered on the tie, his knuckles holding firm against my chest.
I searched for words but found none. I leaned my head in a little but pulled away. Today was the day we bury his father, not the day I try to make a move. So many things went unsaid by both of us. His eyes searched mine, as I gazed into his. He pursed his lips then tore himself from me. The fresh wound between us left me in silence.
I slipped on my boots and took one last long look in the mirror. I looked like a hopeless mess. The pants were slightly too short, but only just; the same with the jacket that dug into my armpits just enough to be annoying but not enough to hurt.
‘This one’s for you Bart,’ I said into the mirror. I swiveled on my heels making my way outside to my truck. Joshua tossed the shovel into the bed as he slid into the passenger seat. I tried my best to avoid his eyes for a reason I couldn’t find.
The tension in the car was palpable and was fraught with silence. Any word might have set either of us off. I wanted dearly to kiss him once again. The need to feel his hands on my skin overcame whatever sense of logic and reason I had in my mind, but resisted the urge. I twisted the rear view mirror so I could see Joshua’s face. It was placid, almost emotionless, but it was clear there was too much on his mind for me to add another kiss into the mix.
“Turn here,” he said. I did as I was told. We drove through a roughshod road with only a pair of tire marks to follow. The trunk bounced and trundled over slightly bent grass coming to a halt just a few feet from an old oak tree on the side of a hill that overlooked the sprawling river.
From this height you could see it snake across the terrain, cutting a path through golden wheat fields, flanked by trees that still sprouted with thick green leaves that were just beginning to show signs of brown.
A priest stood over a cocoon of linen lying over an open, roughly dug, grave. Beside the priest were two stout men barely dressed for the event, sweating profusely from the hot, noon day sun. A small gathering of townsfolk wearing their Sunday dotted the empty space around the tree, standing in the shade of its branches to avoid the heat.
“Ah, you’re here,” said the priest, “let’s begin.” He raised his palm sized bible and began to read. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to say a fond farewell to our companion, Bartholomew…”
I listened on as the preacher continued to talk, but my mind wandered. I had yet to say my goodbye to Bart. Today was the right time, with Joshua beside me.
“Does anyone have anything they’d like to say about the deceased?” the priest said, snapping me out of my temporary trance. The first was Mrs. Denton. She presented a pie to Joshua as she pushed her way through the crowd. Her silver hair reflected against the sunlight, her dress billowed against the breeze, and with her shaky voice she began to speak.
“Twenty five years,” she said, “That’s how long I’ve been living just down the road from him. I swear I’ve never met a man as good as he was. My husband died a long time ago, but anytime I had something that needed fixing he was there in a heartbeat to make sure I was alright. It’s a damn shame that he won’t be around anymore. The world could use more men like him.” The crowd met her words with a ‘here-here’.
This was the first I’d heard of his good deeds. It must have been the first time Joshua heard about it as well. I could see his teeth chittering, trying to choke down the tears. I wish I could have held him and told him to let it go. Feeling is part of the way to know you’re alive. It took me far too long to figure that out.
Another person from the crowd spoke up, and then another; until I felt it was my turn. I brushed past Joshua’s hand, reaching out to grasp at it, but stopping myself before I got too close. I exhaled out my worries and just said what I needed to say.
“Howdy,” I said to the gathering, “I didn’t have the luxury of knowing Bart as long as all of you. But, he left his mark on me in the short time we spent together.” I laughed under my breath, “I think the thing that was most telling about the old man was when we were on our way back from the store one night. We came across an old man whose car broke down beside the road.” I laughed a little louder. “A smart man would have offered a ride back to his house, but not Bart. He parked his truck beside the road and the two of us got out and pushed that old man’s car for three miles into town.”
Joshua snickered.
“That told me everything I needed to know about the old man. Damn all consequence and logic just get it done.”
I returned to Joshua’s side. He was the only one who hadn’t said anything, and lingered beside me. I wondered if I should have patted him on the back, if that might help him find t
he courage to say what he wanted to say. He brushed a tear from the corner of his eye and smiled at me as he walked past.
He examined the small gathering, inhaling deeply and exhaling loudly.
“Thank you all for coming. A lot of what you said was new to me. It shows how little I really knew of my father.” He paused, searching for the words. He tugged at the sleeves of his suit uncomfortably. “I’ve never been so glad to be proven wrong.”
Joshua cleared his throat and looked straight at me in the back of the crowd. He shone like a beacon as the rest of the world fell away. Only he and I stood there tethered to one another. I would have let the moment continue, but it wouldn’t have been fair to everyone else.
“The last thing he told me before he died was that I should never try to hold onto love and keep it to myself. He said that I should always give it away, freely and without question. For the first time in my life I know exactly what he meant. Your stories mean so much to me. I honestly wish that I could hear him tell his stories just one more time. No matter how grating they were, they were precious.”
He choked on his words. ‘Let it out,’ I thought to myself. If I could have knocked the emotions from him I would have.
“All the hate and the anger that I’d pushed on him, he deserved none of it. In the end, I should always choose love. I know that he did now, by raising me. And, I know the deeds he performed and the lessons he taught will be with you all from now on. He touched us all. Especially me. Thank you.”
Joshua nodded to the stout men that stood waiting nearby and they started to lower the body into the grave. The priest began a moment of prayer as Joshua returned to stand by my side. I risked moving my hand in close to his; teasing at the corner of his personal space. Without hesitation, he grasped it firmly. The feelings he’d been holding back had pushed past the flood gates and he became a wreck of tears.
Once the body was in the ground, fresh flowers were tossed into the grave. One by one the group left their gift and left the congregation. Before long, the only two left were Joshua and I. He took the shovel from the truck and began to cover the body of his dead father. Tears mixed with the soil.