Bear, Otter, & the Kid 01 - Bear, Otter, & the Kid (MM)

by TJ Klune

  “Of course,” I say sullenly. “Either me or Otter, if I’m still at work.” I shake my head. “Who is this kid? How do you know him? Have I met him? Have I met his parents?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Yes, Bear. I told you, he’s my friend from school. You met him and his parents at my birthday party. Remember Alex Herrera? His mom was the one who asked you where you got the jumping castle from because she wants one for his birthday next month. You said Alex was very polite.”

  It’s funny, I know, but I haven’t had to face this yet. The Kid seemed content on not having sleepovers or play dates or anything like most normal kids do. Sure, he would go outside and play, but he never went over to someone else’s house. I begin to think that this is going to be much harder on me than it is on him. Have I really gotten so dependent on him? I think, bemused. I always thought it was the other way around. Do parents feel like this when their kid goes off for the first time like this? Jesus Christ, I need a life.

  The next thing I know I’m on the phone with Mrs. Herrera, who’s telling me of course it’s okay that Ty is coming over, and how sweet and intelligent he is. She wonders out loud why the Kid and Alex have never had a slumber party before, and I tell her Ty doesn’t eat meat and that if he needs anything to just call me. Or Otter. Or Anna. Or Creed. Ty looks mortified as I make Mrs. Herrera recite the phone numbers back to me. She says that yes, she knows the number to Poison Control. No, they don’t have any big dogs. Yes, she knows not to let Ty go to the beach by himself. No, she’s quite sure that it’s not expected to rain, but she’ll keep him inside if it does. Yes, she’s positive I don’t need to pack any special vegetarian meals. She’s telling me that no, she doesn’t know CPR, and I’m about to tell her this is not a good night for this, maybe next time, when Ty kicks me in the shins, and I tell her I’ll drop him off on my way to work.

  I make Ty take his cell-phone charger so his phone can be charged in case he needs to call me for anything. He says that he’ll keep it charged in case I need to call him for anything. We pack his bag, and I put in four changes of clothes, and he scowls at me and takes some of them out. I make sure he has his toothbrush (and toothpaste and floss and mouthwash and Children’s Tylenol and Band-Aids and tweezers). He stops me when I am packing a Tupperware dish filled with almond granola because I’ll be damned if he’ll go hungry because all they’re serving is a rack of lamb in pork sauce with a side of meatloaf. He takes me to the couch and has another talk with me. I sit with my hands in my lap and nod.

  When he’s not looking, I pack the granola anyway.

  “You going to be okay?” he asks as we pull out of our apartment parking lot. I glance in the rearview mirror and see how pale my face looks.

  “Are you going to be okay?” I retort, not liking his amused expression.

  “I’ll be fine, Papa Bear,” he says calmly. “But even if I decide to stay the whole night, can I still call you tonight before I go to bed?” I smile and say yes, and we both relax, and it’s not until later that I’ll realize he’s said that more for my benefit than his.

  “What are you going to do tonight?” he asks me as we pull into his friend’s neighborhood. “You probably shouldn’t stay by yourself.”

  I snort. “You kidding me?” I tell him. “It’s my first night without you hanging all over me. I’m gonna go out and party.”

  He looks at me knowingly. “You should just go to Otter’s,” he says as he stares back out the window. “That way, I’ll know where you are and know that you’re okay.”

  “That I’m okay?” I ask him bewildered. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

  He’s silent for a moment, and I’m about to ask him again when he says, “I know you’ll be okay. But I know you’ll be more okay if you’re with Otter.” He looks at me again. “Does that make sense?”

  I shake my head. “Explain it to me.” I honestly don’t know what’s going through his head. I know he can’t possibly know about… you know, us (i.e. whatever it is I’m doing with Otter), but I also know he’s more perceptive than anyone I’ve ever known. I’m curious to see what he’s picked up.

  He sighs. “I made Otter promise me that he’ll take care of you,” he tells me. “Remember when we were at his house a couple of nights ago for a sleepover? That’s what I whispered to him.”

  “Why’d you ask him that?” I say, opting not to tell him that I already knew.

  “Because, Bear. You’ve taken care of me my whole life, practically, and I’m not big enough to take care of you yet. Otter is.”

  I pull the car over in front of the Herrera house. I put the car in park and cup the back of the Kid’s head and press my forehead against his. He hums happily and plays with my fingers. “You’ve done a damn good job taking care of me,” I tell him quietly. “More than anyone in the world.”

  He smiles at me. “I am trying,” he says seriously. “But Otter….” He stops.

  “But Otter what?” I press gently.

  He shrugs. “Otter makes you smile. I know I do too,” he says quickly, as I open my mouth to interject. “But you’ve been sad for a very long time, and I couldn’t figure out why, and then I knew.”

  “And what did you know, Kid?”

  He looks at me funny, like I shouldn’t even have to ask. “You were sad,” he says, “because Otter was gone. But now he’s back, and you’re not sad anymore. And that makes me hope that he’ll never leave again.”

  I smile sadly at my little adult and kiss his forehead. His friend opens the front door to the house, and Mrs. Herrera waves from behind him, and Ty unbuckles his seat belt and grabs his overnight bag out of the backseat of the car. He opens the door and yells hi to his friend and grins at me over his shoulder, and then he’s gone too. I watch him run up to the front door, and he turns and waves back at me, and I wave frantically at him, and then they’re inside, and the door is shut. I turn the car around and drive away, feeling strangely alone. Then my phone beeps, telling me I’ve got a new text message from the Kid.

  love u Papa Bear

  “THE Kid’s the one that asked to stay the night at a friend’s house?” Otter asks me a few hours later, when I’m on my break. “Uh-oh. How’re you holding up?”

  I switch my phone to my other ear and kick the ground. “What do you mean how am I holding up?” I say bitterly. “I’ve never been better.” Obviously.

  He snickers in my ear. “You sound like it.” He pauses for a moment and then says, “Maybe this is a good thing, Bear. Maybe he’s finally starting to trust the world again.” I know this is hard for him to say, as we both know he’s a big reason the Kid lost that trust in the first place. It’s not all Otter’s fault, of course, but it certainly didn’t help, either. I think of six mean things to say, but I let it go. I must be getting old.

  “I guess you’re right,” I sigh. “I just thought this wouldn’t happen until he was at least thirty.”

  “It’s good it’s happening now,” he tells me gently. “I think that he’s going to start becoming his own person. But you… you’ve got to let him.”

  “I know!” I say, angrier than I intend. “I’ve wanted this more than anything in the last three years, you know? For him to be okay. But now that’s happening… I don’t know. I think that it’s too much too fast. What if something happens? I won’t be right there to make sure he’s okay!”

  He takes a deep breath. “Bear, you can’t always be right there for him for everything. You both need to be able to do your own things. You’ve never even had a chance to do stupid things like most people your age.”

  “I don’t need to do stupid things!” I retort. “I’m perfectly fine doing what it is I’ve been doing for the last three years. It’s kept us alive so far, hasn’t it?” I’m starting to breathe heavily, starting to feel the blackness of despair. I don’t tell Otter that I haven’t been able to focus all day. I don’t tell him that I’ve checked my phone every minute for the last four hours. I don’t tell him that I’ve already called the Herrera
household and spoken to Mrs. Herrera, who assures me that everything is going okay. I know that Otter is right: I haven’t really had a chance to do anything. I’ve been so tied up making sure Ty is okay that I never focused on what I want. There have been moments, sure, where I’ve felt small waves of resentment, but I’ve learned to shove those feelings down before they can amount to anything. But still… now that I finally have a chance to do something on my own (even if it’s just for one night), why do I wish that everything would just go back to the way it was?

  “Bear, he’s just staying at a friend’s house,” Otter says, sounding amused and exasperated all at the same time. “I think he’ll be okay. I know you’ll be okay.”

  I shake my head. Once again, people just don’t understand. “I guess,” I mutter.

  I can hear him grinning through the phone. “So what are you going to do tonight?”

  I hadn’t thought about this. An entire evening stretches out before me with no obligations, no need for me to worry about the well-being of another. I shudder as I feel loneliness nipping at my heels. “I don’t know,” I tell Otter morosely. “I guess I’ll just go to bed and try to get some sleep.”

  He snorts in my ear. “I only asked to be polite. I thought it would be rude to tell you to get your ass over here when you get off of work.”

  “I don’t know, Otter. I don’t think I’d make very good company tonight.”

  “Bear!” he barks at me, and I wince. “Don’t feed me that bullshit!”

  “My house is closer to where Ty is at in case he needs something,” I say. “It would make me feel better if I had at least that.”

  “Fine,” he says. “Then I’m coming over to your house.”

  “Otter,” I say, about to tell him no. I think that I’m just putting up a front because there’s a deep dark hunger that has taken over my mind. It’s the thought of Ty not being around. It’s the thought of me being on my own for once. It’s the thought of not having to be quiet or worry about what the Kid is doing in the next room. This yearning roars through me, and I do little to quell it. I feel ashamed and wrong and dirty, but I can’t stop it. Unbidden thoughts stroll through my head, and I blush furiously, thankful no one can read my thoughts and see how depraved I am. How horrible I am. How I am acting like such a… whatever.

  “I’m not taking no for an answer,” he growls in my ear, which does little to squash the monster that’s roaring from somewhere inside me. I feel dizzy as I think, What’s happening to me?

  I’ll give you three guesses, and the first two don’t count, it says sweetly. However, I think we’re past that, don’t you? Why don’t you just do what it is you know you want to do? There’s always room tomorrow for remorse. But until then….

  I think incoherently of devils and their silver tongues.

  “Okay,” I say meekly.

  He exhales in my ear, and it sounds good. “I’ll come to your work before you get off and pick up something for dinner,” he tells me happily.

  “You’re going to make me dinner?” I say, trying hard not to grin like an idiot. “Again?”

  I hear him laugh. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

  “Okay.”

  “Hey,” he says.

  “Hey, yourself.”

  “I’m proud of you. You know that, right?” he says, and then he’s gone.

  I roll my eyes and shove my phone back into my pocket. I stretch my arms and think more unthinkable things and have to force myself to stop. I don’t think walking around with a hard dick is very conducive to good customer service.

  I’m about to stand when I see a familiar car pull into the parking lot. I tell my legs to move, knowing it’s stupid because I’ll have to see her no matter what. My legs won’t budge. I grip the edges of the table and force myself to rise, knocking my knees against the metal bar that runs underneath. I hiss and sit back down. I’m about to try it again when she gets out of her car and raises her hand to her forehead, blocking out the sun. She looks right at me, and even from where I sit, I can see Anna hesitate.

  It’s only been a few days since I saw her last, but it feels like forever. I had been so focused on my misery over Ty that I hadn’t even thought to look at the schedule to see if she’d be working tonight. She walks slowly, as if we’re both thinking about how she has to walk right by me to get into the store. I tell myself I’m being foolish, that we were going to see each other again, that it was only a matter of time. For God’s sake, we work together. I stare at her for a moment before lowering my eyes and finding an interesting freckle on my right arm that deserves my undivided attention. I think disjointed thoughts of how when she sees my face, she’s going to know everything. It’ll take one look, and she’ll see it written there like I have a big neon sign flashing on my forehead proclaiming that I’m a FAG, that I’ve done FAG THINGS, and that I’m going to do FAG THINGS AGAIN. I groan softly to myself and rub my hands over my face. I think that maybe when I move them, she’ll have disappeared, either into the store or from the earth. Frankly, I don’t know which would be better.

  But she doesn’t walk right by, and she doesn’t vanish into thin air. She sits down on the opposite side of the table. I feel it creak, and I curse ever so softly and move my hands back down to the table. I hazard a glance at her and am encouraged slightly. She’s not sneering at me, and she doesn’t recoil when she looks back at me.

  “Hey,” she says, appearing almost as nervous as I feel.

  “Hey, yourself,” I say back, congratulating myself when my voice comes out normal. “Looks like you’re working tonight.” That sounded real intelligent.

  She nods. “Yeah, I’m closing. Did you not see it on the schedule?”

  I shake my head. “Guess I didn’t.”

  Anna plays with her fingernail. “So what’s going on?”

  “Oh, you know…,” I start. In my head, I finish: Oh, you know, just the usual. I’ve slept in Otter’s bed two or three times now. Oh, don’t worry! We haven’t really done anything. Except tell stories about you. And me. And him. Did you know he’s wanted me for a long time? He really left because he needed me so bad that it hurt, and he thought he was projecting. Remember when I used to say that to you? That you’re projecting? Well, he thought it too. But his was so bad that he used it as an excuse and got the hell out of Dodge, but then he came back, and I still don’t completely understand why yet. Oh, and we may have made out. And I may have liked it. And this is after you and I broke up, like… what? Two days ago? Three days ago? After being together since like second grade? So you know, the usual.

  “You know,” I say again, “the usual.”

  She nods again. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

  I shrug. “It’s neither, I guess,” I say truthfully. “It just… is.”

  “How’s Ty?” she asks.

  I pick neatly at a slash of paint on the table. “He’s fine. He’s staying the night at a friend’s house tonight.”

  Her eyes widen slightly. “Like, a friend from school? Wow, Bear. How’d you get him to do that?”

  I snort. “I didn’t get him to do anything. He came and asked me.”

  Concern suddenly blossoms across her face. She knows me too well, and I curse again. “How are you with that?” she asks me softly.

  “Me? Oh, I’m fine,” I say, trying to smile. It comes out like a grimace. “It was bound to happen sooner or later, right?”

  She cocks her head slightly. “I’m sure it was,” she says slowly. “But I wonder why he decided to do it now?” I stupidly almost tell her it’s because the Kid thinks I’m safe and happy now that Otter’s home. That I’m slowly starting to realize that the only reason he’s starting to act like the Kid that he is, is because he has someone who promised to take care of me. I don’t think it’ll go over very well, so I tell her I don’t know.

  She asks about Creed, and I ask about her mom. Both are doing fine. She tells me she got her grades back from school, and she did well. I tell her how I
had packed food in the Kid’s overnight bag. She says that she went to a bonfire on the beach with some of her friends last night. I tell her that sounds like it was fun. She says it was. Neither of us says anything about Otter and neither of us is saying anything about her and me, and when I think I can’t feel any more uncomfortable, she glances down at her watch and says she needs to go clock in, or she’ll be late. I tell her I’ll be in in a minute. She stands and looks like she is going to say something else. I look at her expectantly and know I’ll answer whatever she says, but she changes her mind and flips her hair and walks inside. She doesn’t look back.

  FOUR hours later I’m sitting in the main office, trying to fill out some paperwork for the produce guys. It’s dead tonight, and I’ve already sent a cashier home. I had told Anna that she could go if she wanted, too, but she told me she needed the hours. The night manager came on, and I took that as an opportunity to barricade myself in the office and pretend to be busy. I told myself it was because I was busy, that I wasn’t trying to hide from anyone, but a part of me felt like a fraud. I’m shoving some papers in a filing cabinet when I hear an easy chuckle behind me.

  I turn and see Otter propped against the doorway, as he seems prone to do. He’s dressed in jeans and black boots and a tight black shirt under a leather jacket that does little to hide the fact that he’s powerful underneath all that unnecessary clothing. I look appreciatively at this and think that straight guys can tell when another guy is attractive, so this can’t be that gay but most guys don’t finish the thoughts with wanting to see just how powerful a body there is without all that clothing.

  “What’s so funny?” I say as he chuckles again.

  He grins. “You look hot in an apron.”

  I rush over, hissing. I push my way past him and peer over his large shoulder, making sure no one heard him. “Don’t say stuff like that,” I say, glowering at him. “We’re at my work!” At least I had kept my dirty thoughts to myself!