by K. Lyn
“Yes, he’s in the bedroom. I’ll stay here while you talk to him, Mom. I think he feels better one-on-one.”
“Okay, dear.”
Leah wasn’t sure of anything right now, but she smiled anyway.
Camden was still lying on his side facing away from the door as Leah introduced her mother, but Camden did not acknowledge her presence. Leah left them alone, and Leah’s mother slowly walked into the room and around the bed so that she could kneel in front of Camden. He had removed the blankets entirely and was completely naked, shivering uncontrollably. Sharon very slowly and gently pulled the covers back over him and placed an arm around his shivering body. She took both of his hands in hers and began to speak. She spoke very softly, hoping that he would open his eyes. At least he didn’t try to pull away. But he kept his eyes closed as she began to speak.
“Camden, I’m Sharon, Leah’s mother. May I sit with you for awhile?”
Though Camden did not speak, he nodded affirmatively to the question.
“Leah cares a lot about you. She talked about you all summer long.”
Perhaps it was Sharon’s soft voice or her way of speaking in a straightforward manner that made Camden feel comfortable with her, but even with eyes closed he felt that he could trust her. He was tired, and Sharon knew it. He was tired of his pain, and she knew that he needed urgent help. He continued to keep his eyes closed and occasionally a lone tear streamed down his face.
“If you let me, I will help you. Are you willing to leave Houston for awhile?”
“No. This is my home,” he stated emphatically.” He pulled his hands away from her and placed them over his face, pulling the covers up to where they nearly covered his entire head.
“I know it’s hard to do, but Leah will go with you.”
Camden sighed heavily and then he finally spoke. “I don’t know if I can do it. Sometimes I think it would be easier to die.”
Sharon felt bad for him. She knew what it was like to think that you were different from everyone else and that no one understood your pain. She had lived her married life in a country that some considered nonexistent and whose people were hunted down and rounded up to be slain by Nazi soldiers.
“Camden, what you have will not go away magically. You are going to have to fight it every step of the way. Depression is caused by chemical reactions in the brain. Let us help you. We will not abandon you, Leah and me.”
Camden could feel the anger building up inside of him. This woman didn’t understand him. What was she after? Probably doing research for a paper to boost her career. “Leave me alone.”
Camden forced himself out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. Sharon called for her daughter. “Leah, come here now!” she commanded. Leah came running.
“Honey, go with Camden into the bathroom.” Then she whispered, “Don’t leave him alone.”
“Leah, leave me alone for awhile…please.”
“You don’t want to stay in here alone. You want something to eat?”
This was the first time that Camden wished he had taken Leah to the dorm. “No, Leah. Have your mother take you to the dorm.”
“Did Mom tell you about the place?”
“What is with you two? Are you some kind of mother and daughter hotline? Are you hoping for sainthood?”
“I’ll go with you. I can start classes next semester.”
Camden grabbed her and put his hand over her mouth. He was squeezing her arm and it hurt. “Don’t you dare scream? You tell your mother to take you to the dorm. Do you understand?”
Leah nodded. She saw desperation in Camden’s eyes and she wanted to get away from him. She didn’t know what else to do.
“When I remove my hand, you will tell your mother to take you into the city, got it?”
Leah nodded again. Camden slowly removed his hand, his eyes boring into Leah as if they were lethal weapons. When Leah opened the door, Sharon looked at her as if she knew what had transpired. “I need to go to the dorm, Mom.”
“Let’s get your things. We’ll talk on the way.”
Leah could feel the tears welling up inside of her and she choked them down. She wanted to stay there with Camden. Sharon went outside to wait for Leah, hoping that Camden would change his mind at the last minute.
Leah didn’t leave right away. She needed to know more about this man who had wanted her so badly but who now refused her. She went into the library and searched some of the books he loved and in a small corner of the library underneath a copy of Moby Dick was a letter addressing Camden as “The Love of My Life.” Leah hated snooping like this, but she thought that perhaps the contents of the letter held some of the answers to Camden’s debilitative state and strange behavior. The letter was written two years ago from someone who had loved Camden very much. Camden and this man had taught at a school in San Antonio together. From the sketchy timeline that Leah could piece together, it appeared that they had had an intimate relationship for approximately three years. Apparently, some of the students were very opposed to homosexuals, and Camden’s lover was very outspoken about being gay. For Camden’s sake, however, he never mentioned that the two of them were lovers and they always met in very secretive locations. As Leah skimmed the letter, she came to the last page which was very disturbing. It described the man’s feelings for Camden, but it also indicated that a group of male students had seen them sneak off together one night and they had followed them to their secret hiding place. The man had ended the letter by telling Camden that he had heard that these students were planning to kill them, and the word “fag” was used often in their conversation. He told Camden that he would always love him, but he planned to stay and face the group of haters. He implored Camden to leave San Antonio that night and go to Houston or Dallas, or anywhere, and start over. He loved him too much to see him get hurt, or worse, killed. Camden was much more sensitive than his lover who welcomed a confrontation especially when it concerned homosexuality. The letter was signed, “Forever Yours, Conrad.”
Underneath the letter Leah discovered another disturbing piece of the puzzle. It was a newspaper clipping dated the very next day as the letter, describing how a teacher had been taken by force to a small home outside of San Antonio and shot in the head six times. When he didn’t show up to teach the following day, the administrator of the school became suspicious and called the police, suspecting foul play. When the suspected young men were questioned, they cracked under the pressure. They led the police to the site of the crime, and they were currently serving time in prison.
The news of this hate crime must have been in all of the newspapers in Texas, Leah thought, as this clipping was not from a newspaper in San Antonio. The clipping was from a newspaper in Houston. Camden would be dead now if his lover had not begged him to leave. It’s no wonder he has flashbacks and nightmares. He must have been devastated, dealing with the loss of his lover, as well as possibly still fearing for his own life. It was no wonder he spent all of his time here in this house which was as secure as Fort Knox.
Caught up in the details of the crime, Leah had missed a step. Camden’s lover was a man. But he made love to me and he was not pretending to like it. He loved sex. Leah’s young mind was spinning, trying to wrap around what she did not want to admit. Is he gay? Is he bi? No matter how hard she tried, she could not understand how a person could be both homosexual and heterosexual. It wasn’t a judgment. She simply did not understand it. Camden said he loved her, but he had also loved the man who wrote this letter. Leah tucked the letter into her purse, and placed the book back on the shelf. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. Camden must have spent the last two years trying to erase the memory of his lover’s death from his mind, but Leah knew that he never would or could. But where did that leave her?
When Leah left the library and stepped into the hallway, she was immediately confronted by Camden. He was dressed in nice pants and a crisp white shirt, and he was holding a tie in his hand. Leah swore her heart stopped at that moment.
She stared at the tie in Camden’s hand and watched as he swung it back and forth.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You were in the library. I don’t see a book, so you must have found something else of interest. Let’s have a look, shall we?” He walked past Leah and into the library. When he pulled out the copy of Moby Dick, Leah ran toward him, pulling the letter out of her purse.
“I…I took it,” she confessed. “I didn’t do it to hurt you, Camden, I swear.”
“Ah yes, your intentions were good.”
“That’s right. Good intentions.”
Camden turned to her, smiling at the look of fear on Leah’s young face, and he proceeded to methodically place his tie in perfect position around his neck. “Well, my dear, the road to hell was paved with good intentions.” He was incredibly sexy as he stood with his hands on his hips, confronting her.
“Wh…where are you going?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re all dressed up, like you’re going to work.”
“Life goes on, little one, for those of us living. The living must carry on. I have meetings to attend.” He motioned toward the door with his eyes. “I believe I noticed your mother waiting out front. Perhaps you should join her.”
Leah slowly handed the letter to Camden.
“Is that mine? Why yes, I do believe it is. Are you sure you do not wish to keep it?”
Leah set it down on the bookshelf and with quickened steps she left Camden alone in the library of the big house.
She was quiet on the drive into the Houston. When her mother stopped the car in front of the dorm, she asked, “What is it, dear? You haven’t said a word since we left Camden’s house. He will come around. Don’t worry. Call him often. Would you like me to stay in the city for awhile?”
“No, Mom. I’m sorry to cause you so much trouble.”
“That’s what mothers are for, honey, and it was no trouble.”
Leah put her meager belongings away and looked around the little room, wishing she were with Camden. It wasn’t his big house that she missed. She missed him. When her roommate arrived, Leah’s mood lifted a little. The girl was four years younger than she, a true freshman, and she never stopped talking. The bubbly chatty young woman talked nonstop about joining a sorority, going to all of the football games, and attending any other social event the university had to offer. Her name was Britni and she was a real knockout.
Only a week had passed before Britni met a young man from one of the fraternities. Unlike Leah, Britni was rarely in the dorm room. She never stopped trying to get Leah to join in the fun, but Leah immersed herself in her studies, trying desperately to forget about Camden. It was just a summer fling, she told herself, but she didn’t believe it. She didn’t pay much attention to the classes that Britni was taking until she noticed the book on her desk that had never been opened. The Great Gatsby brought tears to her eyes. Camden loved the works of Fitzgerald, and as Leah turned the pages of the beloved book she knew she had to see him again. It had been two weeks and she had tried to call him several times, but he was never at home. She asked Britni the name of her literature professor on the off chance that he or she might know Camden.
“Leah, you should see him. He is so gorgeous and sexy that all I do is stare at him. I would give up Jeff and the frat parties for Professor Hunky. The giggling girl added, “Not really, but Leah, you should see him.”
When Britni stopped to catch her breath, Leah asked, “What’s his name?”
“Professor Wassen…Professor Camden Wassen.”
Leah felt a lump form in her throat so big that she could barely choke it down. “Does he seem okay?”
“Okay? He’s perfect.” Britni plopped down on her bed and looked up at the ceiling. “I heard some of the students talking, though, and no one seems to know if he’s gay or straight.”
“Why do they care?” Leah heard the defensiveness in her voice and she tried to hide it from her roommate.
“I don’t think it really matters. They just want to know if their fantasies could become reality, I suppose.”
Leah thought about stopping by Camden’s office after class one day, but first she planned to find out more about the murder of Camden’s lover. She waited until Britni was out of the room and then she pulled out her laptop and did a search for murders in Texas two years prior. The search seemed never ending, but when she narrowed her search for murders specific to San Antonio there was an entry of a hate crime murder with the name of the victim being Conrad McCormick. That was him. The article said that Conrad was quite wealthy, with houses in Houston, San Antonio, and a vacation home in Galveston. In his will he had left everything to a friend. The friend’s name was not listed, but Leah knew the name of man’s friend. Camden was set for life, but she had seen how lonely he was surrounded by things but without his lover. Conrad had taught in San Antonio but he was buried outside of his home city of Houston. Maybe if I can find the gravesite, I can find some answers. If only she knew the questions.
Leah located the address of the gravesite, but she had no car. Pacing the length of the tiny dorm room one afternoon, she nearly ran into her roommate.
“Leah, you look awful!”
“Thanks.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I need to go somewhere but I don’t have a car.”
Britni dangled a set of keys in front of Leah’s face. “You are in luck. Take mine.”
“You have a car?”
“Sure, got it when I turned sixteen. Bring it back alive.”
Leah stepped into the pretty red convertible, not believing her luck. Britni had her own car at sixteen?! Leah was impressed. As she drove out of the city, she wiped tears from her eyes. She felt bad for all that Camden had lost, but she also felt bad for what she had lost. But maybe she hadn’t lost Camden yet.
The sun was setting when she drove through the gated entrance of the cemetery. It was a small parcel of land with few graves, and the orange glow of the setting sun cast an eerie shadow on the names etched in the tombstones. Leah parked her roommate’s car and began reading the names on the tombstones. Several of them shared the last name of Camden’s lover and she assumed they belonged to family members of Conrad. When she came to the gravesite of Conrad McCormick, she stared at the dates. He was too young to die, only one year older than Camden. She didn’t know what she expected to find by coming here, but she couldn’t seem to walk away. It was getting late, though, and she forced her body to move, turning toward the car. When she saw headlights coming toward her, she was gripped with fear. She quickly got into the car and sat behind the wheel as the car approached. The car slowed and stopped next to hers. Leah didn’t look at first but the car did not move. She slowly turned her head and once again fear stunned her. The headlights went off and the motor stopped. When the driver tapped on the window, Leah hesitated before she lowered it down. “Camden,” she said, with nothing following. She took her hand off of the keys and waited for him to say something.
Camden pushed the hair from his forehead and asked, “What are you doing here, Leah?” He looked tired and Leah thought he looked as if he had aged a lifetime in the past two weeks.
“I had to know, Camden.”
“You had to know what…if it was true? Well, now you know.”
“Camden, no, I didn’t doubt you. I wanted to understand, or maybe I wanted to feel close to you again.”
The vulnerability in Leah’s eyes could not be missed. “May I?” he asked, motioning to the passenger side of Leah’s car.
Leah nodded and unlocked the door. Camden stepped inside and sat down in his pressed trousers and crisp white shirt that was unbuttoned enough to cause Leah’s mouth to fill with saliva as she thought of his black chest hair against her hard nipples.
“You shouldn’t be here, Leah. This place isn’t about you.”
“I told you why I came. I…I miss you,
Camden.” She stared at the steering wheel, fighting for control of her emotions.
Camden sighed loudly and held out his hand. “Leah, look at me.” Leah slowly placed her hand in his and looked up at him. He turned toward her, his manly body too close for comfort. She wanted him. She wanted him to take her home with him and make love to her. “Let me give you a little advice. You need to stay away from guys like me.”
“Guys like you?”
“That’s right. Freaks of nature. Swing both ways. There are a number of ways to describe us. Pick one.”
“Camden, that doesn’t matter to me. I only want you.” Leah couldn’t pretend with this man. She was hurting and Camden could see it. “Why don’t you come by the house the weekend after this? I’ll be there.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Leah, really. But tonight is not the night. We both have school tomorrow.” He kissed her on the top of her head and got out of the car.
Camden waited until she had backed out of the cemetery before pulling the bouquet of flowers from his car. He sat beside Conrad’s tombstone just as he had done every year on this day since his lover had died. Two years ago tonight he and Conrad had met by chance in a bar. They were two strangers looking for nothing more than a casual hookup, but something had happened that night. Camden had fallen deeply in love with a man and the two of them had become much more than lovers. As he sat on the ground staring at Conrad’s tombstone, he wondered if he would ever love again. Was Leah the one? No, she had been nothing more than a placeholder…a summer fling. She would move on, and he would, too. He laid the flowers on the ground and pressed his lips to the name on the tombstone.
That night he tossed and turned in the big bed he had once shared with Conrad. He dreamed of the night that Conrad died and he saw visions of various scenarios of his lover’s murder. He awoke sweating and he felt as if he were suffocating. It was hot in the room and he stripped off his clothes, stepped into the shower and turned the water to cold. As the cold wet drops swept the sweat from his body, he thought of Leah and the night she had tried to help him. What bullshit! There is no help for a freak of nature like me. Then he corrected himself. There is someone who will always be there for me. He pulled on a pair of shorts and poured a glass of Jack Daniels straight up. “Ah Jack, you are much more than whiskey. You are my best friend.”