Finding the Sky

by A. M. Burns

  Robbie> Kerens? Really? Where’s that?

  Dillon typed quickly.

  Dillon> East of Corsicana.

  Robbie> About an hour. ☹ That will make it hard to go to the movies.

  Dillon> Yeah.

  Robbie> We might be able to work out something. Ur mom really freaked.

  A soft smile spread across Dillon’s lips.

  Dillon> U might say that. At least she didn’t let them keep me in jail.

  Robbie> True. So what’s it like out there? At least you have a connection.

  Dillon> Yeah. I think it’s going to be okay. My uncle’s always been cool. I already met some of his friends down the street. They seem nice. They have a kid about our age. He’s nice too.

  Robbie> Nice? I hope you’re not too bored. I bet they don’t have a pool out there. I’d miss the pool if I went the whole summer w/o one.

  Dillon> I haven’t seen one.

  Robbie> Do u think it would help if I went and told ur mom that ur not a Shank?

  Dillon had never had anyone offer to stand up for him before. It made him think that Robbie really was his friend.

  Dillon> I don’t know. Let me talk to her in a few days and see how she’s doing. If I think it will help, I’ll let you know. Thanks for offering.

  He swallowed hard.

  Robbie> We’re friends. Maybe if I talk to her, she’ll bring u back quicker. I’ll wait for ur ok.

  Dillon> Thanks. When does ur job at the pool start?

  Robbie> Monday. Can’t wait.

  For nearly an hour, they chatted about summer plans, the different things that Robbie heard through the grapevine about the robbery, none of which had been correct from how Dillon had witnessed it, and they promised to keep in touch. The whole thing helped Dillon relax even more about being out in the country. I’ll still be connected. This won’t be so bad. I hope.

  7

  DILLON CRAWLED between the seats of Alex’s van. As the smallest, he’d offered to get in the backseat. Scott started to argue with him, but he managed to beat the larger boy between the seats. The ride from the house to the pizza parlor went by quickly, even though it was nearly half an hour. The conversation between the adults held Dillon’s attention and everyone talked loud enough for him to hear them.

  “Dillon, do you have a pizza preference?” Uncle Bryan asked as they walked through the door.

  “Not really. No fish. Other than that, I’m fairly easy,” Dillon replied.

  “I’m with you there,” Scott agreed. “Dads know what I like. Come on, Dillon, let’s go play a couple of games. This place doesn’t have much, and they’re fairly old games, but that way we don’t have to sit and listen to the old guys talk more.”

  Dillon glanced at his uncle, more out of the habit of asking his mother’s permission than anything.

  Uncle Bryan gave a quick nod, and Dillon followed in Scott’s wake.

  Scott had been correct; there were only four games and all but one still had 32-bit graphics.

  “So what do you want to play?” Scott asked.

  Dillon shrugged. His mother hadn’t given him any money before he left the house, and after she took the five back she’d given him the previous day, he didn’t have anything. “Whatever you want. I’m not that good with old arcade games,” he lied. He didn’t like lying, particularly to someone he’d just met, but he didn’t want to admit that he didn’t have any money. “I’ll just watch you. See if I can pick up any tips or tricks.”

  Scott leaned against a faded Pac-Man machine. “I suck at these too. I like WoW, do you play?”

  “World of Warcraft?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got a level one hundred Tauren Druid, along with a few other toons.”

  “I’ve actually never played. Some of my friends at school play.” Again the stumbling block of money hit.

  “It’s really fun. Come over tomorrow and I’ll show you. It’s got some of the best graphics out there. I know that some of my friends say that Final Fantasy has it beat, but I’m a WoW guy all out. One of my other toons is a Night Elf Hunter, he’s got an eagle. It’s the closest thing I could find to a falconry bird.”

  “Falconry bird?” It was a term Dillon had never heard before.

  “Hunting with birds of prey. Like that red-tail you and Bryan brought in today. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of it.”

  Dillon shook his head. “City kid. Hunting for me is going to Walmart for bacon.”

  Scott’s laugh was soft and pleasant. There was none of the harshness Dillon was used to hearing from other kids their age. “I’ve heard of you city folk before. Some fairly scary tales out there of your exploits. Don’t worry, after a summer out here, I’ll make a country boy of you. It won’t take much. But anyway, we hunt with the hawks. It’s really cool. Some folks say it’s not as effective as hunting with a gun since the bird doesn’t catch something every time it flies, but then a gun hunter doesn’t hit something every time he fires a gun either.”

  A tidal wave of questions welled up in Dillon. “Will you use that bird we brought in for hunting?”

  “No.” Scott turned so that he was more or less sitting on the part of the game where the trackball was. “First, she’s a rehab bird. That means she’s got to go back into the wild if at all possible. Second, she had her red tail in already. That shows that she’s a mature bird. We can’t keep mature birds for falconry, only immature birds.”

  “That’s good.” Dillon turned a chair from the closest table around and sat down, staring up at Scott. “I don’t know why, but ever since I saw her flopping around on the ground, I wanted to help her get back into the sky.”

  “The sky is where they belong. I always feel sorry for the birds that can’t fly after an accident.”

  “Does that happen a lot?”

  “More than we’d like. Those birds normally end up as Ed birds.”

  Dillon frowned at yet another word he didn’t immediately understand. “Ed birds?”

  “Education birds. We, well Paul and Alex more than me, take them out to schools, libraries, garden shows, and the like to let the public see them. It’s really good for folks to see the birds up close. Alex says it helps build sympathy and understanding for them and that it saves lives.”

  “Wait a minute, there was somebody who came through my school in Dallas last year.” Dillon tried to remember the show, but other than a couple of people showing them birds and giving short talks, he couldn’t recall hardly anything. His classmates had been too disruptive, as they normally were, during the program.

  “It’s possible. We can check… if it was during the school year. It was probably Paul doing the program on his own. Alex actually works at the local high school in the library. It helps pay the bills. Rehabbers, unless they start out with money, never get rich. It’s all for the love of the birds.”

  “So how long is the hawk we brought in today going to take to get back in the sky?” Dillon sort of thought of it as his hawk.

  Scott shifted and bumped something on the video game. It beeped at him and intro music began to play. “Hard to say. It depends on how long that leg takes to heal. I think they’ll just use a bit of epoxy to fix the beak, but the leg will take longer.”

  “Epoxy? Like glue?”

  “That’s the stuff. I think it’s a different formula than the one they use for glue, but they can use it to repair the crack in the beak so the bird can be released. Otherwise it could take a year or more for the beak to grow back right, and they’ll be constantly trimming it. She’ll hate it.”

  Paul appeared in the doorway to the game room. “Boys, pizza’s here.”

  Scott got off the game and headed for the door before Dillon could get out of the chair.

  “Do you think I could help out with the hawk?” Dillon dropped his voice. “I don’t know what you’ll be doing.”

  “We can talk to my dads about it and see if they mind. Your uncle Bryan will also have to agree.” They cleared the doorway and reentered the noisy
main dining room. More people had arrived since they’d been in the game room. The place was nearly packed. The number of people made it very difficult for Dillon to hear over the loud background noise of the other diners. He wanted to ask Scott more questions, not the least of which was why he referred to Alex and Paul as his dads. Dillon covertly watched the two men as they all ate. He couldn’t spot anything that obviously said they were a couple. Then he noticed that they both wore wedding rings of the same design. Mom would have a fit about Uncle Bryan hanging out with gays. But they’re really nice guys, and Scott’s nice.

  8

  “UNCLE BRYAN.” Dillon went into the living room after trying unsuccessfully to fall asleep. “I’ve got a question.”

  His uncle looked up from the book he’d been reading while soft country music played in the background. “Shoot.”

  “I was going to wait and talk to Scott about it, but I can’t sleep and thought I would ask you.” Dillon sat on the couch, since Uncle Bryan was in the chair. “Are Alex and Paul a couple?”

  “Yes.” Uncle Bryan closed his book and set it in his lap. “Is that going to be a problem?”

  Dillon shook his head. “No, not for me. Mom might have a fit if she knew. I hate to say it, but she’s not very tolerant.”

  An almost rude huffing sound came from his uncle. “Don’t I know it? She thinks that because she went out with your father and then kept you, she’s the most tolerant person out there. She’s only tolerant toward a few things; other stuff, like gays, she’s less so. Lucky for me, she’s also fairly blind in some aspects.”

  “Wait a minute.” Dillon sat up a little straighter and looked hard at his uncle. “Are you saying that you’re gay too?”

  “If you’re going to be staying here all summer you might as well know. I am. I’ve tried to tell your mother several times, but she’s good about turning every conversation around so it’s about her and it can be rather daunting to try and really tell her anything. And it’s never really been a huge issue. It’s not like I’m going to find somebody to settle down with anytime soon.”

  Like when he’d been talking to Scott earlier, a torrent of questions welled up in Dillon. “How did you know?”

  “Know I was gay?” Uncle Bryan got a faraway look and rubbed his chin. “When we were growing up, it wasn’t like it is today. We didn’t have role models all over the place on TV and on sports teams. Everyone was still basically in the closet. We had to stay there too, for the most part. Looking back, I think I have always known. Yeah, I dated girls in high school and the first couple of years in college, but it never felt right. Hugging them always felt like hugging my mother or sister. It was pleasant enough when I was upset, but it didn’t really turn me on, and don’t get me started on sex with them.” He paused and looked at Dillon. “You do understand how sex works, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Uncle Bryan. I’ve had friends explain it to me. Even if the school has that stupid abstinence-only policy, we talk about it. Mom doesn’t think I know anything, but I do.”

  “Okay, just checking. I’ve thought the way they handle Sex Ed, from what I’ve heard on the news and from friends, is a real joke. They wonder why teen pregnancy and AIDS is up but they don’t want to do anything to prevent any of it. If people weren’t so wrapped up in their useless religion and….” Uncle Bryan paused in midsentence and stared at Dillon. “Your mom didn’t say anything about religion lately.”

  “She won’t.” Dillon stifled a chuckle. “I think after Grandpa’s funeral, she’s given up on it completely. We don’t even have a Bible in the house. I’ve got more interesting fiction to read.”

  “Okay.” Uncle Bryan grinned at Dillon. “You know, kid, I think we’re going to get along just fine.”

  “That would be nice.” Even though they were broaching subjects that he wasn’t sure about, Dillon felt more relaxed around his uncle than he normally did around his mother. Particularly when she’d been drinking, which she was doing more and more of lately. So far, he hadn’t found any sign of alcohol in the house. “So girls felt funny? Did hugging guys feel better to you?”

  “You bet they did. Most guys I’ve been with weren’t fragile or awkward at all. I figured out over time that was part of the problem I had with girls. I think, after the first time I was with a guy, I realized what I’d always known, that I liked guys and not girls.”

  He says it so simply, and it makes so much sense. “So why don’t you have a boyfriend or husband or whatever you call it?”

  “Alex and Paul use the term husband. I like that term too.” Uncle Bryan let out a long, slow breath. “I met someone a few years ago. Before your grandpa died. He was the love of my life. He and I actually bought this place together. One of the reasons I get so down on religion is that his family was really religious. When he came out to them in college, they had him kidnapped and taken to a special camp where they tried to pray away his gay. It didn’t work, but it left some major scars on him. His family disowned him.” Uncle Bryan shuddered and pursed his lips. “He never really recovered from it. Sometimes, he’d go for a while and everything would be fine. Then he’d flash back to the tortures he’d endured in that place. He killed himself during one of his flashbacks.”

  Dillon’s throat tightened as Uncle Bryan’s voice cracked. “I’m sorry, Uncle Bryan. That sounds awful.”

  “If I could make sure that nobody ever had to endure that crap ever again, I would.” Uncle Bryan bent his head down and blotted his eyes on the edge of his shirtsleeve. “That’s one of the reasons I agreed to let you come stay with me this summer. There was something in your mother’s voice last night that told me if I didn’t step up to the plate, she might try and find somewhere like that to send you in hopes of making sure you weren’t part of that gang.”

  “But I wasn’t part of the gang.” Dillon tried to keep his own voice from cracking as the emotions in the room grew heavier.

  “I know that. Like I said earlier, I believe you and will trust you until you prove otherwise. You’re a good kid, Dillon. I want you to have every opportunity you can get in life, and I know that growing up in south Dallas isn’t easy. It’s probably harder now than when your mom and I grew up there.”

  “It’s not easy.” Dillon couldn’t begin to explain the pressure by folks like Kareem and the other gangbangers who were either trying to recruit or get folks hooked on drugs, or both. Only the fact that he was mixed kept most of the girls off him, or that was what his mother had told him. He’d seen the way they went after Robbie and how his friend somehow kept them at bay. He didn’t know where his life was going, but he knew he didn’t want to be burdened with a family before he was even out of high school. He couldn’t see himself as a father, like some of the boys were.

  “Exactly. So if I can do anything to help you out, you just let me know.” Uncle Bryan yawned.

  “Thank you, Uncle Bryan. I’ll try to be good while I’m out here. It is a lot better than going to some church camp.”

  “I hope so.” He yawned again. “Tell you what, Dillon, let’s call it a night. I don’t know about you, but I was up way too early this morning to come get you. I think I’m about done.”

  Dillon covered his own yawn. “Yeah, and I didn’t sleep well last night. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen today.”

  Uncle Bryan cocked a bushy eyebrow at him. “I hope it turned out better than you were afraid it would.”

  “It did. It was great. I hope I can learn more about the hawks, and Scott seems really cool too.”

  “He’s a good kid, like you. I thought you guys would hit it off.”

  “I think it’s going to be an interesting summer. At least it will be different from anything I’ve done so far.” Dillon stood. “Well, good night, Uncle Bryan. Thanks for rescuing me from Mom. I hope she mellows out.”

  “We’ve got three months.” Uncle Bryan followed suit, and they walked toward the hall together. “If we’re lucky, she’ll come to her senses. If not, we’ll work some
thing out.”

  “I hope so.” As Dillon returned to his room, a coyote howled in the distance. The sound sent a shiver through him, but it was a good feeling. At least it’s not a gunshot.

  9

  DILLON TRIED not to stare at the overly clean state of Scott’s bedroom. He didn’t have a lot of experience with other guy’s bedrooms, but he knew how his was, and clean, or even sanitary, weren’t words that were normally used to describe it. The times he’d been in Robbie’s, it had been about the same as his. Scott’s bed was made; the green plaid bedspread seemed to hang perfectly over the sides. There weren’t any obvious piles of clothes waiting for the laundry or having just been cleaned. Even the desk looked organized. The bookshelves were crowded but neat. Overall, it made Dillon feel slightly out of place.

  “Okay, last night, I said I wanted to show you WoW.” Scott sat in the computer chair and gestured for Dillon to take the kitchen chair, the only thing that didn’t look like it belonged in the room. “I got to thinking about it. I think they have a plan for free play up to a certain level. If you think you’d like to do that, we can. It’s always more fun if you’ve got someone to run with.”

  “So you’ve got some folks you normally play with?” Dillon leaned forward in the chair so he had a better view of the computer screen as Scott launched the game.

  “Yeah. I’m part of two different guilds; those are groups of people who get together in World to do raids and harder quests.” Monsters and warriors filled the screen for a moment, and then a list of characters appeared and Scott selected one. “I think there are a lot of folks in-game that don’t have many friends in real life, so they spend lots of time in World where they can connect. I know sometimes in the summer or over winter break, I really look forward to playing and communicating with people since there aren’t a lot of kids around here. Getting my driver’s license last summer helped but only a little bit.”

  As the game started, Scott dove into a running monologue about what he was doing and how everything worked. Several times he’d pause and chat with someone he encountered. The chatting reminded Dillon of the computer chat he did with Robbie the previous day, but with their game avatars there, it was more visually attractive. The level of the graphics was about what Dillon was used to with some of his console games, but he’d never encountered other people while playing. That made the game appealing.