by TJ Klune
Whatever. I was tired and just rolled over onto his arm in my sleep. It’s no big deal. Who cares, anyway? So what if Creed had seen us? What, he would have called us a bunch of fags? It’s not like we were doing anything. Otter’s not like that. I’m not like that. It was an accident.
Before I could think about it anymore (not that I wanted to), the Kid came running back into the room, holding a big piece of construction paper. He handed it to me then crawled back into his chair and began to eat his cereal again. I looked down at the paper he had given me. It was folded in half and on the outside it said TO BEAR FROM YOUR BROTHER. I laughed quietly and opened it. Inside there was a drawing underneath more words that spelled out HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEAR and I LOVE YOU. The drawing showed five stick figures standing on what appeared to be the beach. I could tell which one was Ty because he had drawn himself smaller than the others. Anna was drawn having long black hair. There were three others.
“That one’s you,” he said, pointing to the one standing next to the version of himself. “And that’s Uncle Creed standing by Anna, and that’s Otter standing on the other side of you.” He had drawn us all holding hands. I was holding the Kid’s hand and Otter’s. Oh for the love of God, it’s just a picture!
“Thanks, Kid. I think you’re going to be a famous artist someday.”
“Maybe. Or a detective. I haven’t decided yet. Can I have some more Lucky Charms?”
“Yeah.” I was still staring down at the picture, realizing that he hadn’t drawn Mom into the picture. I put it down on the table. “Ty,” I said, suddenly unsure of what to say next. I was saved when Creed walked into the room, yawning.
“Uncle Creed!” Ty yelped and jumped from the chair. Creed caught him and swung him in circles.
“Hey, Kid! What’s the word?”
“Did you know it’s Bear’s birthday?”
He stopped spinning Ty and looked over at me. “Sure did, Kid. Your big bro’s getting to be an old man now.” I could see the concern in his eyes as he realized that I hadn’t said anything to Ty yet.
Ty didn’t seem to notice anything was amiss. “Yeah, he’s an old Bear now. We’ll have to put him in a home. Are we going to have cake for Bear today?”
“Cake?” Creed said, setting him back on his chair. “I bet we could swing that. What kind of cake do you think Bear wants?”
Ty made a face and grumbled, “Probably something gross like coconut. I hate coconut.”
“I’ll tell you what: if Bear wants coconut cake, I’ll make sure we get you a cake of your own.”
Ty looked up at him suspiciously. “But it’s not my birthday.”
“That’s okay. Hey, Kid. Do you mind if I steal your brother for a minute? I have to talk to him about some grown-up stuff.”
“That sounds boring,” Ty pronounced. “Can I go wake up Otter?”
“Yeah, sure. As a matter of fact, make sure you jump on him and hit his face with the pillow okay? That’s the only way that Otters wake up.”
Ty took another bite, then left the table again. Creed turned to me, eyebrows raised. “I take it you haven’t said anything yet.”
I shrugged. “He just woke me up a few minutes ago. I haven’t had time to do much of anything.” I heard a roar from the living room, then Ty’s high-pitched laughter.
“Do you want us to be here when you do?” Creed asked, putting his hand on my arm.
“I guess. I’d think it was better if all of us were here, don’t you? That way he’ll see that he still has us.”
“Okay,” he said, getting up. “I’ll go get Anna. It’s probably best we do this now.” He started to walk toward Anna’s room. I looked down at my hands, once again wondering what the hell I was about to do. “Hey, Bear?”
I looked up and saw Creed standing near the entryway.
“Happy birthday, dude. I’m sorry it has to be like this, but, you know. Happy birthday.” I nodded, and he went to Anna’s room.
I was only alone for a couple of seconds when I heard Ty’s laughter pouring down the hallway as Otter entered, carrying the Kid upside down.
“Put me down, Otter!” the Kid shrieked.
“You going to hit me again with a pillow?”
“No!”
“Promise?”
“Yes!”
Otter set him down in his chair. He then came around the table and stood beside me. He put his hand on my shoulder. I let it sit there for a second until I remembered where I had found myself upon waking. I shrugged it off.
“You okay, Bear?” he asked, not moving from my side.
“I’m fine,” I said gruffly, trying my best to avoid his eyes. “I wish people would stop asking me that.” And I wish you would go away, I finished in my head.
“Bear,” he said warningly.
“Oh, knock it off, Otter. I’m not going to do anything stupid.”
“I didn’t say you were,” he shot back. “God, you’re just some kind of fun in the morning, aren’t you?” And even though he didn’t mean it in that way, I still took it as an intimate thing, a secret thing, shared just between us, two false lovers who see each other first thing as the sun rises. I bet he made me sleep that way. I sure as hell know I didn’t have anything to do with it. I’m not like that, and I thought Otter wasn’t either. I don’t care if he is, but I know who I am. Besides, I don’t need that kind of aggravation right now. But not that it would matter, because I’m not. I grinned sickly.
“What you guys fighting about?” the Kid asked. I’d forgotten he was there. I glanced up at him and saw he had a marshmallow stuck to his cheek. I reached across the table and took it off.
“We’re not fighting, Ty,” I said quietly. “That’s just the way grown-ups talk some times.”
He looked back and forth between me and Otter. “Bear, just because you’re eighteen now, doesn’t mean you’re a grown-up,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Yes, it does,” I snapped, trying to direct my anger anywhere but at Ty, but not succeeding. He didn’t even flinch. Instead he took another bite and glanced casually back at Otter.
“You’re right. Bear isn’t much fun in the morning. I think it’s because you don’t make a very good pillow,” the Kid said. Oh goddammit! My face burned. I covered it with my hands.
“I think you’ve got that one right, Kid,” Otter said softly. I knew he was looking at me. “Otters don’t make very good pillows.”
I lowered my hands and was about to say something, anything, when Anna and Creed walked back in the room. I got up quickly and walked over to Anna, catching her by surprise. I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tightly. I could feel her soft body against mine and was pleased when I started to get turned on a little bit. Pleased, until I saw my gaze trapped on Otter’s over Anna’s shoulder, his expression unreadable. He was the first to look away.
Good, I thought savagely. Good. Good.
“Um, Bear?” Anna said. “You’re kind of choking me.” I realized I had been squeezing her harder and harder until Otter had finally turned away. I let go of her, and she peered over at me with concerned eyes.
“I’m fine,” I said before the question came out of her mouth. I knew, even then, that I was going to be getting that a lot.
“Okay,” she said, unconvinced. She gave me one last look before turning to the Kid. “Lucky Charms?” she exclaimed in a cheery voice. “Are you sure you don’t want French toast?”
The Kid grinned through a mouthful of congealed sugar. “Can we put peanut butter and syrup on ’em? Can I help?”
“Peanut butter and syrup I can do, but I think that Bear has something he wants to talk to you about,” she said, picking him up from his chair and wrapping him in the same kind of hug I had been giving her. He complained lightly but hugged her back. She set him back down, and I could see the beginnings of tears in her eyes as she looked back at me. Anger welled in me, black and oily. Don’t you dare start crying. If you start, Ty will start, and he’s going to anyway, but don’t you start,
don’t you dare.
“Bear?” the Kid said. “What do you want to talk to me about? Are we going somewhere for your birthday? ’Cause I was thinking we could go to the aquarium and see Otter the otter and Todd the seal,” he stated, naming his favorite animals at the tourist trap on the outskirts of Seafare.
I looked at Anna, who was pulling out bread and eggs, but I knew she was listening intently. I was glad to see the tears had dried up somewhat. I looked at Creed, lounging back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. And I looked at Otter, to Otter, but his face remained passive, as it had before, betraying nothing. I sighed heavily and sat down opposite Ty.
“Kid,” I started and was alarmed when it came out thick and emotional. My face was suddenly wet, my heart wrung, my throat constricted. Jesus Christ, I gasped in my head. Now don’t you start! Where the hell did this come from?
“Bear?” I heard Ty say, suddenly concerned. I heard the scraping of his chair as he pushed it back, and I heard Creed rise as well, but Otter made him sit down again. Ty came running around the table and climbed into my lap. “What’s wrong, Bear? You can’t be sad! It’s your birthday! We don’t have to go to the dumb aquarium. We can do what you want to do.” He was petting my hair.
I shook my head and cleared my throat, trying to rein in this unwelcome display of emotion. When I spoke, my voice sounded raw and flat in my ears. “We can do whatever you want to today. And not just today, either. If you want to do something, you tell me, and somehow we’ll do it. Okay?” I leaned my forehead against his, feeling his hands in my hair, smelling his sweet Lucky Charms breath on my face. “But I have to tell you something now, and I am going to need you to be a big boy for me, okay?” I felt him pull back.
“Is she dead?” he asked, his voice the only thing betraying his age. It was said so quietly, so maturely, that I cursed her under my breath for what he was about to become. I knew what I was about to do to him, and I hated myself for it. “Is she dead?” he asked again, his voice growing insistent.
“No, Ty, she’s not. She’s….” Disappeared? Abandoned us? Run off with Tom? Given up the only flesh and blood she has left in this world? Pick one, Bear, hurry up and pick one! Any will do! “She’s… gone, Kid. She’s gone.”
“Where’d she go?” he asked, his voice as flat as my own now.
“I don’t know. She said that she wanted to go away with Tom and get a job somewhere, but I don’t know where she went.”
“She’s coming back, right?” he asked. I could feel him start to tremble in my arms. I crushed him tighter into me.
“No, Kid,” I whispered. “I don’t think she is. I think she’s going to stay away.”
“Why would she leave? Why did she go away?”
“I don’t know, Ty. I wish I did but I don’t.”
I heard the first gasping breath come out of his little body. “Bear!” he cried into my ear. “What’s going to happen to me? Oh, Bear, I’m just a little guy! I’m not big like you! What’s going to happen to me?” He was sobbing by the time he finished, clinging to me, wrenching my shirt, my hair, my skin, my insides.
I couldn’t speak. I wanted to quickly reassure him, comfort him, make him understand that I would be there, no matter what, but the words wouldn’t form. They wouldn’t come out. I looked frantically over his shoulder, searching for Anna or Creed but finding Otter, blindly through my tears. He was wiping his own eyes. No! I thought angrily. You can’t be crying! You said you would help me, so you fucking help me! Otter! Almost as if he heard me, he dropped his hands, and I saw his eyes were red, but he was still in control. I pleaded with him silently. He understood and quickly got up, coming round the table. He hunkered down next to me and the inconsolable Kid and put his hand on Ty’s back.
“Tyson, I want you to listen to me,” he said quietly, rubbing the middle of Ty’s back. “Can you do that for a moment? Can you do that for me?”
The sobs continued to rack the Kid’s body, but I felt him nod.
“Look at me, Kid,” Otter said. Ty twisted around in my lap, both his hands still wrapped in my shirt, still clinging. Otter put both his hands on either side of Ty’s head and used his thumbs to wipe away the tears. “I know it’s scary,” he continued, after Ty had calmed some. “I know it’s very scary right now. But you know who is going to take care of you because you’re just a little guy?” Ty shook his head. “Bear is. And I am. And Anna and Uncle Creed. And my mom and dad and Anna’s mom and dad. We are all going to take care of you. If you need anything, you just have to tell one of us, and we’ll do it for you. Okay?” We both nodded because as Otter said this last bit, he looked up at me.
“What about when Bear goes to school?” the Kid hiccupped out. “He’s supposed to go to school soon!” I could hear the panic edging back into his voice. “Do I have to move too? I don’t want to move! I like my room! I don’t want to leave!”
“You won’t have to,” I was finally able to say. “I’m not going to go to school right now. We can stay here, and you can keep your room.” He started crying again, this time quietly, lying against my chest. I put my chin on his forehead and rocked him gently. I felt a warm hand on my knee and knew it was Otter’s and knew I should shake my leg to get it to move, but it was comforting, and it was kind, and I couldn’t find the strength to push it away.
Anna and Creed came into sight as they crouched down next to Otter. Otter didn’t remove his hand, and I was glad. They both reached out and touched Ty on his face, his leg, his hair.
“Things aren’t going to be that much different,” Anna said finally. “You are still going to go to school and play with your friends. You can stay in your house and when Bear has to go to work, you can stay with me or Uncle Creed or Otter. I know your mom won’t be there, but we all will be. I promise, okay?”
He nodded, jerking his head just once. “What about Uncle Creed? Are you going to stay too? You’re not going to go away to school, too, right?” Creed’s shoulders sagged, and he looked up at me with an expression I’d never seen on his face before. From that look he told me that he felt he was betraying and abandoning me too. For a second, selfishly, of course, I felt he was. I knew he would go away in the fall, and I would only see him every now and then, and it wouldn’t be the same. I pushed those thoughts away, because it wasn’t about me right then, it was about the Kid. I could worry about myself later.
“Ty,” I said, choosing the words that followed carefully. “Uncle Creed is going to be here for the next couple of months, but he is going to go to school in August. That won’t mean he doesn’t love you anymore, it’s just that he has to go. I know, though, that he would rather stay here with you, but he’s got to go. He’s going to be a famous computer guy and get really rich and take us on a trip on his big boat, but to do that, he’s got to go to school, okay?” Ty nodded, and Creed looked at me like I walked on water.
“But I’m going to come back a lot, okay?” Creed said, sounding like himself. “You’ll get to see me all the time, and if you ever want to talk to me when I’m not here, you just need to have Bear call me, and we can talk however long you want. I’d rather talk to you than take some dumb computer class.”
“Okay,” Ty said sadly. He turned then to Otter. “You said you were going to stay and take care of me too, Otter. Are you going to go away too? Not like my mom, but like Uncle Creed? Are you only going to visit me sometimes?”
Otter responded without hesitation. “I’m not going anywhere, Kid. You can count on that. I’m going to stay right here with you and Bear, okay?”
“But, Otter,” Creed interrupted, “what about—”
Otter shot him a warning look, and Creed stopped. I wondered what that was about. I didn’t know of Otter having to leave or do anything. I didn’t really want to think necessarily of Otter right then but shuddered at the thought of him going away too. Otter was already out of college and was working for a small photo studio in the next county over. It wasn’t glamorous, but he seemed to like it. T
hey’d had a couple of shows for his work that I had gone to. I had walked around with Creed and his parents, sipping champagne, feeling older than I was as we walked from picture to picture. I reminded myself to ask Creed later what was going on with Otter.
As soon as Ty knew where he stood and who was leaving and who was not, he seemed to be placated a bit. He turned back to me and crawled up my chest again. He kept his arms against his sides. I put one arm around his neck, and he nuzzled my neck. A fleeting thought rose in my head—
this is how you and otter were laying
—but I pushed it away before it could take root. I heard the Kid mumbling something against my neck, and I cocked my head to listen. “Say that again, Kid. I couldn’t hear you,” I told him.
“I need to go sit in the bathtub. I feel like an earthquake,” he whispered back.
I immediately stood, carrying Ty. I heard Anna and Creed explaining to Otter what Ty had meant, and nobody followed, and I was fine with that. I carried Ty to the closest bathroom and climbed into the bathtub and sat down, my back to the edge opposite the faucet. I stretched out my legs, and Ty lay against my chest, his eyes glassy and listless.
When Ty had been four, he had been watching TV and had seen some show on earthquakes or tectonic plates or something that had ingrained itself into him. Even at that age he wasn’t watching cartoons like normal kids. On the show, he told me later, they said that in the event of an earthquake, you needed to get some place safe. One of those places is the bathroom, in the tub. Ever since then, whenever Ty has gotten scared, upset, in trouble, mad, or any other range of emotion that was anything other than happiness, he would go sit in the bathtub until he felt better again, saying he wanted to feel safe from his earthquakes. My mom used to try and get him to stop, until one day I told her to just leave him alone. She did, telling me fine, she would leave him alone, but I would have to deal with him when he got like that.