“Stop.”
“It doesn’t stop.”
“Please.”
“Stop, Daddy, stop.”
“Taylor . . .”
“No son of mine.”
“Two hearts, one heart . . .”
He was at the garage door. It was rising. He looked back at me. “Faggot faggot faggot.” The door opened and bang!
I woke up, panting. Steven woke up beside me. “Are you okay? Bad dream? What’s wrong?”
“We need to go somewhere tomorrow.”
“Sure,” he said. “Anywhere. Where do you wanna go?”
“Taylor’s house.”
Chapter 37
I woke up to find Steven had already made breakfast. That was just like him. Our first weekend together, he’d taken me for brunch both days, at the Duchess with all his friends. But the second weekend, when we both knew this was more than a one-weekend stand, I woke up to breakfast in bed, served on a tray with a flower from his garden in a vase. It was corny as hell, and I loved him for it.
This wasn’t breakfast in bed, but it was omelettes and coffee and a good morning kiss, and it was practically perfect.
Practically, because there were three people in that room. Me and Steven and the ghost of Taylor.
“Now,” Steven said, “tell me, why do you want to go to Taylor’s old house?”
“Not just his house. I want to see my house, where we first kissed. I want to go by our school. I want to visit his grave. I need to figure out who is trying to resurrect him, and the only way I can think of doing it is to go home.”
“Remember that day we talked about going back there? You were going to show me all the places you grew up. This wasn’t quite how I pictured it happening.”
I smiled back at him. “No, me neither. But lots of things didn’t happen quite the way I pictured.”
“That’s true. Are we going to see your parents while we’re there?”
My parents. That hadn’t even occurred to me. It did seem ridiculous to drive the two hours to get there and not see them. When was the last time I’d seen them? They’d come to visit right after what happened with Nathan. How could they not have? Of course it had made news. That was the first time they’d come to see me, the first time they met Steven. All under less than ideal circumstances.
It wasn’t that we weren’t close. We just all had our own lives. When Aaron and I were together, we’d gone there for dinner once a month. Aaron was the first boyfriend they met. None of the guys from college lasted long enough to be worth the introduction, and yes, they knew Taylor of course, but didn’t know he was a boyfriend until after he was gone.
Coming out had been a grief-stricken accident. I hadn’t planned on doing it until after high school, until I moved out. But in the wake of Taylor’s suicide, everything leaked out from me. Maybe that helped. The pain was exploding from me; how could they react badly? Or maybe, they just genuinely didn’t care. Maybe I was one of the lucky kids. Not like Taylor.
“Yes, we’ll see them. I don’t want to stay there though.”
“Oh, you can suck it up. It’s just one night.”
“Thank you for doing this with me, Steven. I really appreciate it. I really appreciate you.”
“I wouldn’t let you go through this by yourself. Are you almost done? We should go.”
“Yeah, let’s do this.” I smiled at him, and started clearing the table. “Let me just wash these before we go.”
“You go shower, I’ll clean up. I don’t mind.”
“Why are you being so amazing?”
“Because you deserve amazing, Alex. And apparently, it’s my job to remind you of that.”
It was white fire rushing through me, but this time, it was his words and not cocaine. I felt my eyes tear up. “Thank you.” I hugged him, and he hugged me back, and the hug got harder and harder and harder, and then he finally pulled away with a playful ass squeeze and said, “Quick, shower.”
I laughed and obeyed. While I showered, I thought how it might actually be really nice, getting out of the city with Steven. We had only done it a couple times, last summer, short little day trips. We had never really had the chance. It would be open road, windows down, music up, laughing and talking and probably singing along to whatever was playing on the stereo. It would be clearing away the rubble of the past six months and getting back to where we had been before Nathan.
I still had the ring.
Maybe, one day, he would be wearing it again. For real. For good.
But in the meantime, a road trip back home, away from the gayborhood with its taint of drugs and sex and psychos, was just what we needed.
I got out of the shower, and Steven called to me, “Don’t forget to change your number.”
It was a cloud passing over the sun. Yes, there was a reason for this road trip, and that reason had my number. Luckily, it was easy enough to change it online now, and what’s more, it’s not as if I needed to update a bunch of people with the new digits. My contact list was small these days.
I turned my phone on, and took a deep breath when the voice mail indicator was there. How many more times had he called last night after Steven turned it off? I sat there on my bed, staring at it. Did I even want to hear it? Want to? No. Had to? Yes.
“Remember the time you killed me, Alex? That was fun. Did you feel better when my head was blown off? Did it make you feel happy and GAY? Stupid little faggot.”
“Just delete it,” Steven said, appearing in the doorway. “Delete it, change your number, and c’mon. Let’s do this thing.”
I cleared the voice mail, not even listening to the other four. I pulled out my laptop, logged into my cellular account, and surfed through the site to find where I could change my number myself. And just like that, it was done. All the while, Steven stood behind me, rubbing my shoulders. He leaned down and kissed me, when it was done.
“Let’s go,” he said. “I’ll drive.”
I packed up some toiletries and a change of clothes. We stopped by Steven’s so he could do the same. Seeing his house brought that fist back around my heart. I hadn’t seen it since That Friday Night. In none of my drunken and high self-destructive states had I gone there. Texted from home, sure. Left slurred voice mails of adoration and hatred, sure. But not gone back to the scene of That Friday Night.
Maybe that was a step I needed to take too. I needed to de-capitalize that in my head. It was just a Friday. It was just a night. It just happened. It was in the past now. We were moving on. It had been a mistake, but one we had made together. If Steven could forgive me, I could forgive him. And really, maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t done much of anything wrong. It was a risk you ran when you started playing with three-ways. Things got complicated.
It was time to simplify things.
Soon, we were across the bridge, leaving the gayboyhood behind, driving through suburbia. I called my parents, to let them know my new number and to let them know they could expect us. They sounded excited. How long had it been since I had talked to them? They didn’t know there’d even been a breakup, and they sure didn’t know about the drugs.
Coming out as gay had been hard enough. Coming out as a drug-addicted, whoring fuckup was just not necessary.
“You should text everyone else. Let them know the number change.”
“Most of them don’t want to talk to me.”
“New number for a new Alex,” Steven said, with his charming smile. I reached across the car and squeezed his thigh. And then playfully squeezed his crotch. He laughed and slapped my hand away. “I’m driving. Stop it, Crazy!”
I laughed and typed out, This is a new Alex, and this is his new number. New starts. I sent it to Dinah, to the twins (not expecting a reply from Jesse), to Brandon (not expecting a nice reply at all). I sent it to Walter and Mr. C. That was pretty much everyone, except for Aaron. Was he the next thing to try to fix? Could there really be a healthy, uncomplicated, nonsexual, non-emotionally-tangled place for him in my life?
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“What are you thinking about?” Steven asked. We were nearing the city outskirts, and I was staring out the window. How could I answer his question honestly? Whatever doubt I had about what had or had not happened between him and Aaron, he had to have as many doubts, and more, about what had happened between Aaron and me.
“Who to send the new number to.” That was true, and safe.
“The boys. Dinah,” he said, and then looked at me. “Aaron.”
How did he do that? Was my face really that much of a giveaway? How did he always know what was going on inside my head?
“You’re overthinking. It’s just a number.”
“I haven’t talked to him since . . . since, well, you know since when. Not talked to. Just crazy drunk shit.”
“I know. We all got the texts and messages. I always knew you were a little crazy, right from the day you backed into my car to meet me. But damn, some of those voice mails were pretty out there. He understands though.”
Jealousy tugged at me. “Oh, does he?”
“Alex,” he said warningly, “don’t do that. We talked, yes. We were worried about you. He was a big part of your past. Text him. He might not reply. But at least you’ve kept the door open.”
I thought about it, and nodded. Aaron. It’s Alex. New number. And sober for a change. Don’t need to reply. Just wanted you to have it.
My finger hesitated a bit before hitting SEND, but hit SEND I did.
I turned my phone off and put it down. I looked at the window. We were on the highway now, fields all around us. Behind us, I could see the towers of downtown fading into the distance. Behind us was the Caterpillar, the Hole and Boyz and Wonderland. Behind us was Allan and Aaron and Nathan. That was all behind us.
Ahead of us was the open road. And home.
Chapter 38
I had fallen in love with the city the first time I had gone there. Well, the first time as a grown-up anyway. We’d gone when I was a kid. Even though there were plenty of malls back home, millions more people meant a million more stores, and once a year, Mom and I would drive the two and a half hours to go shopping. I hated it. By the time I was brave enough to tell her I hated it, I was old enough to stay home alone while Dad was at work, and so ended my adventures in the city.
Until college. His name was Jeffrey and I had met him at Trix. We had a great night of amazing sex, and the next morning, he asked if I wanted to ditch Smalltown and head into the Real City. There was a club there, he said, called Twist, and it would blow me away. Trix was great, he said, for a small town. It was part dance club, part pool hall, part restaurant, part boring-as-fuck. Every gay boy, he said, needed to go to Twist.
And so we went. The drive there was filled with loud music and meaningless conversation. We didn’t really have much in common, it seemed. He worked retail, and seemed quite content to do that for the rest of his life. I wanted more than that out of life. He had opinions on everything and everyone, most of which were negative, and none of which I cared about. But I was excited to see this amazing club.
When I first saw the skyline, my heart skipped a beat. I knew right then that I would live there someday, in the towers in the sky. The sun was going down, and the sky was red, and the buildings were dark against it. But as we got farther into it, they were anything but dark. Everything was lit up, glowing golden in the new-fallen night. Everything was alive. The streets were still filled with people. I strained my neck trying to take it all in.
We pulled up outside of Twist, with its velvet ropes and its lineup of people already waiting. Jeffrey bolted out of the car and ran to some people he knew in line. I walked quietly along behind him, and he eventually saw me and introduced me to the people we were now best friends with: a Derek, a Dustin, a Troy. They talked, they gossiped, they bitched. I took it all in.
Inside, it was pretty opulent, that’s for sure. It was disco balls back home, and a chandelier here. It was bar lines back home, and roped-off VIP seating for bottle service from shirtless guys in tight black pants here. It was cute guys back home, and walking models here. They gawked, they gossiped, they bitched. I took it all in.
We didn’t say much on the way home. Well, I didn’t say much. Jeffrey talked nonstop about the numbers he got, the numbers he didn’t get, gossip about people I didn’t know and didn’t care to know. I had been given a glimpse into a bigger, better, more brilliant world, and I was savoring every moment of it.
We fucked again that night, Jeffrey and I. Facedown in the pillow, he didn’t talk, and so I topped with pleasure. The next morning, after he left, I got a text saying he didn’t think things were going to work out. I was too quiet, too shy for him. He wanted someone a bit more outgoing.
I didn’t mind in the slightest. A few weeks later, I met a boy named Aaron, and he asked me out on a date. And as the next six years began, I never forgot the way I felt when I first saw what the real city had to offer me as an adult gay man.
When I moved there finally, after Aaron and I were done, Twist was long since closed, and Jeffrey and his boys, who knew where they had gone. I wouldn’t recognize one of them now if he was sitting on my face. I was sad to find that the club I had longed for was gone, but I was in the city, and that was magic enough for me. Until I met Steven, and he took me to a place called Wonderland.
But now, coming after all the shit that was Nathan and Allan and the drugs and the booze and the drama and the three-ways and the voice mails and pictures in the mail, coming after all the bullshit, the city seemed pretty tainted, and it was good to be headed home.
The miles passed by us, mostly in silence. Occasionally, one of us would say something inane. Occasionally, one of us would catch the other looking at him, and smile as he blushed and turned away. Something was turning around for us. I could feel it. Out here on the open road, in the open air, away from that magical city.
Did every gay man go all Wizard of Oz when he got closer to the place he called home? Maybe, maybe not. I sure did though, and there truly was no place like it.
Chapter 39
TAYLOR HOWARD - 1984–2001.
That’s all it said.
No “Beloved Son.” Not even a simple “Rest in Peace.”
Why I insisted we start at the cemetery was beyond me. Maybe just because that’s where my dream had been. Maybe because I wanted to make sure there was really a grave. I had never seen it before. All the class was at his funeral (his mom was weeping and wailing, his dad was nowhere to be seen). I had hid at the back not wanting to be noticed, just wanting to curl up and die myself.
I had wanted to go to the cemetery after the service in the church but that was when Dinah proposed getting drunk, and that sounded like a much better idea. Later, I had always had a reason not to go, and still later, it didn’t seem important, and still later, it seemed important but I had now delayed going for so long that it was built up into this huge thing in my head and I knew it would take something drastic for me to ever set foot anywhere near Taylor’s grave.
And here I was.
Here we were.
Steven was holding my hand, his other arm around my shoulders as I looked down on the grave that marked the final resting place of my first love. Just a name and two years. Is that all that was left? A warm memory in my heart, a pile of bones under the ground, and some words chiseled cheaply into stone?
“How are you doing?” Steven’s words were barely audible. My head felt stuffed. Too many thoughts, too many emotions. It was too bright outside to be standing here, looking down at his grave. There were lots of things I wanted to say, but I couldn’t find the words. “Do you want some alone time?”
Again, with his mind-reading! I bit my lip and nodded, and Steven squeezed my hand and walked back to the car. The grave next to Taylor’s had been freshly visited. There were flowers on it. Taylor’s was bare. Maybe we should have stopped. Maybe I should have brought something. It was so bare. Such an empty tombstone. Such a mowed grave. That was a morbid thought. Someone mowed
this. What kind of job was that, pushing a lawnmower around a cemetery? Or was it a riding mower? And if it was, did he have to be a good driver? I laughed out loud, seeing the picture of a drunk groundskeeper bouncing off tombstones.
“Jesus, Alex. That’s not cool,” I said aloud. My voice sounded weird in the silence. “Jesus, Taylor,” I went on. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying. I don’t know what I’m thinking. I don’t even know what I’m doing here!”
I started to turn away, to walk back to Steven and his white Rabbit and drive off. There was no point being here. There were no answers.
But instead, I sat down, cross-legged on the grass, facing the tombstone, and started to talk. “That’s Steven that was here with me. God, I love him. He’s amazing, Taylor. He’s the kind of guy I always knew I would end up with. He completes me. He knows what I am thinking even before I do. Kinda like you did. Remember how we would always finish each other’s sentences? Right from day one. You and I were such a perfect pair. I am so glad we had the time we had together.
“Someone’s using you to fuck with me, hey? At first, I thought it was Nathan. You remember Nathan. The hot ass asshole, you used to call him. He’s certifiably insane. He’s in jail though, and we went to see him, and he said he didn’t send me that picture. And I believe him. Did you? Was it your ghost? Are you angry at me for not saving you? Are you angry at me for loving you? I wish we had locked the door that night. We should have stayed safe in the closet until high school was done. We could have gone off to college together like we planned. We could have had the life we dreamed of.
“If that had happened, if you hadn’t done what you did, I never would have met my Steven. So I don’t know if that’s good or not. I love him, and he loves me. But you were my first love, and we were so perfectly happy when it was just you and me against the world, and no one else was around. Just Dinah. She’s pregnant. I know, right? Pregnant. It’s been so long since you’ve been gone, Taylor. Sometimes, I wonder if the face I see is what you really looked like. If I close my eyes, I can still taste your lips on mine that first night we kissed. After we stopped giggling. That was the most perfect moment of my life. Kissing you. That first time. It was when I knew who I was and who I wanted to be. It was when I knew that what those bullies had always known, they were right. Well, they weren’t right. They knew it about me before I knew it about me, but they were wrong. It wasn’t bad. It was right. You were right. We were right together.”
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