Gay Fiction, Volume 1
Page 5
Nick glanced around. He then took a quick peek into the front window of their apartment and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one. I watched the orange fire on the tip of the cigarette widen every time he sucked on it. He inhaled deeply, and exhaled through the nose. He didn’t cough once.
He didn’t say anything else. Just smoked.
Then of course, stupid JF had to show up. “Hey Nico,” he shot from the sidewalk. Nick hates it when people call him that. Only his family can. But JF is clueless. He’s always trying to impress Nick, on account of JF being a schmuck and all. “Hangin’ out, huh, Nico.”
Nick tossed his chin up. “Nice costume.”
JF was dressed up as a Macho Man, but his wig looked like something Madonna would wear. I caught the sarcasm in Nick’s voice, but JF obviously didn’t. “Thanks, man. Your brother’s still punished huh?”
Nick squashed the end of the cigarette on his heel, then walked over to the street drain and dropped it in there. “That’s right.”
“Too bad, though,” JF said, sniffling nervously. “He was only trying to defend you. I mean, Sebastian was just looking for a—”
“What’s that?”
I tensed up.
“Well, I mean—” JF’s voice was smaller now. “Sebastian was sort of putting you down and Boone didn’t like that one bit, so—”
“Putting me down?’ Nick’s eyebrows met over his nose. “What do you mean exactly? What did he say? Word for word.”
JF was going to have to repeat those words.
He was going to have to call Nick Lund a retard to his face.
I couldn’t help smiling.
JF looked up to me with panic in his eyes. “Well, I don’t remember everything he said, just that you had some problems or something. Anyways, Boone sure gave him a lesson, huh?”
Nick wasn’t buying it. “Problems? What kind of problems?” He took a step toward JF and folded his arms over his broad chest. “What the fuck did he say, exactly? Come on, spit it out, you little pussy.”
JF swallowed hard. “He called you a retard.” We could barely hear him.
“A what now?” Nick’s voice was like an ice storm.
“A retard. He said you couldn’t even read a license plate.”
“Oh yeah?”
My heart had begun racing. I didn’t know if it was from dread, or satisfaction.
“A retard, huh?” Nick repeated, his eyes blazing. “He said that? That little shit? He said I was a retard. Huh. Okay. All right. Okay.”
JF had managed to slip past Nick and come up the stairs to our balcony. “Derek, he’s flippin’ out.” he whispered.
Oh yeah, Nick was flipping out.
“A retard huh? I’m gonna fucking break him in half and have him eating out of his asshole for the rest of his life.”
I could kind of picture what that might look like, and it wasn’t pretty.
“I’m gonna go pay that little pimple squirt a visit. No fair Boone had to take the rap.” Nick looked up to JF. “You go get Josh and Terry. Tell ’em I’ll be at Dunkin’ Donuts.” He climbed up the stairs, and then looked over at me. “O’Reilly, if you have some extra toilet paper you wouldn’t mind parting with, I’d like it, please.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
Nick went into the house.
JF made a strange sound, sort of like a snort, and stuck his hands into his pockets. His wig was crooked and his face looked like curd cheese. “You could have said something. You were there too.”
I sighed and pointed to the street. “Better do-do what he said before-fuh-fore he comes back out.”
“What do you think he’s gonna do? I mean, he won’t really break him in half—”
“I don’t know, but I’m getting him some toilet pa-pa-per.”
Inside, Aunt Frannie was on the phone. “Honey—” She folded her hand over the speaker. “Be quiet, your mom’s sleeping, but don’t worry, she had an egg sandwich before she went to bed. See? It’s not so bad.”
Aunt Frannie thinks Mom’s blues are hungry all the time.
I slipped the silk scarf off my head and washed my face in the bathroom sink. I put Dad’s shirt in the hamper and pulled my thick black sweater over my head. It hasn’t snowed yet, but it’s still cold out there.
I tiptoed to the hallway closet and gently opened it.
“What are you looking for, Red?” Aunt Frannie stood behind me.
The answer jumped out of my mouth before I could even think it. “A flashlight.”
“What for? There’s plenty of light. Are they calling for a thunderstorm?”
Aunt Frannie could wrestle a grizzly bear, but she doesn’t like thunderstorms.
“May-maybe.” I said, avoiding her wide green eyes.
“Oh, well in that case, I’m going to get the candles ready. Where does your mom keep ’em, hon?”
We have two white candles in the kitchen. Both melted down to the middle. They’re in the second drawer, under the washcloths.
“In the ba-ba-basement, in Dad’s corner.” I lied.
I thought I could slip the toilet paper out to Nick while she went looking for them.
She threw her white robe on and took the flashlight out of my hand. “Just in case.” She headed down the narrow stairs to the cement basement.
She’s lucky. I have to sleep down there.
As soon as she was out of sight, I yanked the bulging bag of toilet paper rolls out of the closet and sprang for the front door.
Nick was on the sidewalk. He carried a baseball bat and a bag full of what looked like groceries. I handed him the rolls.
He slid the bag under his arm. “Thanks, O’Reilly.”
Before I could say anything, he had taken off on his skateboard. Nick rides that board like he’s standing on a magic carpet. Even when he’s carrying two grocery bags and a baseball bat.
I went to the corner of Wellington. I watched Nick pop his board into his empty hand, then walk into the Dunkin’ Donuts with his ammo. The other guys were already there.
I dragged my feet back to our apartment because I didn’t have the courage to follow them.
I sat on the balcony again.
My chest tightened.
I jumped up and went back inside.
It was a school night and I suspected Aunt Frannie wouldn’t let me leave now that it was dark. I decided I would tell her I was going to bed and then try to sneak out through the back door. It would be tricky, but if she was watching TV in the living room, I could probably manage to escape for half an hour before she came down to check on me. I had a plan. It felt really good to have a plan.
I never have a plan.
“Aunt Frannie?”
She was still on the phone. “What is it, hon? You know you should be in bed, it’s almost nine.”
“Did you find the ca-ca-candles?”
“No, Derek. I found two cans of pork beans, though. Good night, hon.”
“Good night.”
On my way down to the basement, I made sure to land loudly on every step, then I crept back up and tiptoed to the kitchen. I passed Mom’s bedroom, but the door was shut.
It’s always shut.
I pulled on the back door, making sure not to make a sound, and snuck out.
The yard seemed bigger. The sky, darker. I was the only one awake in the whole universe, and all I had in my pockets were two quarters and some of Nick’s raisins.
I pulled the sleeves of the sweater over my hands and headed for Wellington Street.
The guys had already left the restaurant, but I knew where they were. I decided to take the alleys to Gordon Street; that way, no one would spot me and report my whereabouts to Aunt Frannie in the morning. There was a thin coat of frost on the ground and my breath streamed in and out of my lips like I was boiling pasta in my mouth.
I walked fast, with my head down, trying to ignore the barking dogs as I passed. I hadn’t brought my medicine and I was beginning to feel a little short of breath, so I slowe
d down.
Then I heard some voices.
They were coming from the street. Gordon Street. The voices were uneven, some yelling angrily, some hissing low, some pitched high and threatening. All of them were coming from Sebastian’s front yard.
I stopped.
Nick’s voice was the deepest of them all. I could single it out easily. “Get your hands off me,” I heard him snarl. “Or cleaning up your face’s gonna take longer than your house.”
That’s when I decided to step out of the alley and see what was happening.
The first thing I saw was Sebastian’s maple tree. It looked like the dress Lene wore when she was a flower girl last year. I guess Nick had gotten toilet paper from everyone who would give it to him, because my rolls couldn’t have done that. The second thing I saw was the front door. It reminded me of Slimer from the Ghostbusters movie. Except thinner.
Then I saw Sebastian rolling on the ground with JF, the two of them punching each other’s shoulders and growling like mad dogs.
Then I saw Terry trying to hold Nick back from destroying David.
David kept yelling, “Come on, Nick! Come on, hit me! I know you want to. You’ve been wanting to hit me since Miguel—”
The last thing I saw before being struck down by David’s elbow was Nick punching David.
Something exploded inside my head and everything went black.
When I opened my eyes, I was lying on my back on Sebastian’s lawn.
“Oh fuck me.”
I recognized Nick’s voice.
He was pacing around me. “This is your fault, Dave. I swear to God, if that kid has anything broken…”
There was a pounding in my head, but when I wiped my nose, I didn’t find any blood. David’s elbow must have hit me in the forehead, because I have a small bluish bump there today. Everyone says I was only out for less than a second.
I can’t believe I fainted in front of Nick and his friends.
I tried to sit up, but Terry held me back. “No, Derek, stay down. Sebastian’s getting some ice.”
I heard a woman’s voice in the background. It was Mrs. Pinet, Sebastian and David’s mom. “What in heaven’s name is going on here!”
David looked down at me and winked. His lip was fat. “Mom, it’s okay. We were just having a little fun and it got out of hand—”
“A little fun? David, look at my tree! And the door! What happened to my door?”
“I’ll clean it, Mom. Bas and me, we’ll take care of it. Right, Bas?”
Sebastian had reappeared. He managed to slither past his mom in the doorway and was bringing me a pack of frozen peas. “Right.”
“Who’s that for? What happened to that boy?” Mrs. Pinet sounded like a baby bird. “Oh my, is that the O’Reilly boy? Derek, is that you?”
I sat up and my eyes moved around the front lawn. JF had bailed. Predictable. Sebastian sat on the curb with his head between his knees. Josh and Terry stood a safe measure away from Mrs. Pinet’s slimy front door. Both their T-shirts were ripped, and their hair looked like shrubs in the fall. They were almost as out of breath as I get when I’m having an episode.
Nick was pulling the toilet paper out of the tree.
“Nicolas, you leave that alone. Don’t touch anything on my property. I’m calling your father. You stay put. You and your no-good friends.” Mrs. Pinet was on her way to me. “Oh dear, look at you. What are you doing with these, these…these criminals?”
I got to my feet and dusted myself off. I felt like I was going to be sick, but I clenched my jaw and held it down.
Mrs. Pinet lifted my face to the street lamp and frowned. “Well, you aren’t bleeding. You look all right. Sit down. I’m going back inside to call Mr. Lund.” She walked away, and then said, “You know, Derek, your mom’s been through a lot. She doesn’t need all this extra worrying.”
What was Mom going to say? Would she punish me? Would she call Dad? Would she cry and scream?
I was hoping she would.
At least that way, she wouldn’t be sleeping.
Mrs. Pinet went back into the house and I sat down like she asked me.
“That bitch is gonna call your dad, man.” Josh had taken a few steps in Nick’s direction and was trying to make eye contact with Nick. But Nick kept staring at the ground. His long hair hung down into his eyes. I couldn’t make out his expression, but I knew it probably looked a lot like the mask he had made. “So fucking what,” he whispered. “C’est la vie.”
C’est la vie. That means “that’s life.” I don’t know why Nick said that. Life isn’t that.
It just isn’t.
“Oh, Nick man, I can’t get in trouble again, you know my dad…Come on, Nico boy, don’t lemme stand here with my dick in the wind.”
Josh’s father is in the army. Josh can do a hundred pushups without breaking a sweat. His stomach is harder than a concrete block, on account of his dad’s strict regimen. “Come on, Blue. Fuck, come on! I’m fucking bailing, okay? And you shake my hand on it, man, you promise not to come after me tomorrow.”
Nick threw a finger up in Josh’s panicked face. “Okay, fuck off,” he said quietly. “Get the fuck outta here.”
Josh bolted out of the street faster than Carl Lewis. “I owe you one, Lund,” he shouted over his shoulder.
David sighed. “Nick, why’d you let him leave?”
David’s dark eyes shine every time he speaks to Nick.
Like he has fever.
Before Nick could answer him, Mrs. Pinet had come back out. We all stiffened at the sight of her smile. “Okay, boys. Mr. Lund is on his way.” She folded her arms around herself. “And you, Nicolas, well, you’re just lucky my husband isn’t home.” She turned to David. “Get all this cleaned up and go to bed. Your father will deal with you when he comes back from his business trip.”
Sebastian whined, “But, Mom, I didn’t do anything—”
“Shut up, you little shit.” David yanked Sebastian off the curb. “You heard Mom, get some trash bags from the shed.”
Sebastian kicked a rock into the street and looked over at Nick. “This all Boone’s fault, you know. He started all of this.”
David slapped his brother’s shoulder. “Shut up! You don’t know when to shut up, do you? It’s over.” Then David stared into Nick’s face. “Right, Nicolai?”
Nick held David’s hot stare. “Right,” he said quietly. “We’re even.”
I never noticed, but David is almost as tall as Nick, and he’s got the same kind of eyes, except his are almost black and his hair is dark and curly.
“I’m sorry about what my brother said about you.” David’s voice is different when he speaks to Nick. It sounds like he’s in a lot of pain. “You’re not…you know.”
“Retarded?” Nick whispered with a half smile.
David’s breath seemed to get caught in his throat. “That’s right you big retard.”
When Nick laughed, it resonated through the street. He laughs like the Green Giant. At the sound of it, everyone seemed to let out some of the extra air in their lungs.
I kind of felt like one of them for a minute.
Nick looked over at me, like he had forgotten I was even there, and frowned. “You all right? How’s your face?”
I nodded.
“You shouldn’t have come. I’m gonna be in deep shit ’cause of it.”
I had never thought of that. Of how bad it would look to Johan. I hadn’t planned on getting Nick in trouble, I just wanted to see what he was going to do with the toilet paper. “I ca-ca-came by myself. You-you didn’t ask me to—”
“Yeah, well, you try tellin’ my dad that.”
I bit down on my lip. That nice feeling was gone. I only felt like crying.
“Okay.” Nick stretched his arms out and took a deep breath. “I hear the van. You guys don’t say a thing. Not a fucking thing. Got it, Terry? You lemme do all the talking.”
When Johan pulled up, all my courage leaked out of me. I had never
seen his face like that. It hung down and all his features seem to meet in the middle. Johan climbed out. He didn’t even look at any of us. He walked slowly to the front door and knocked.
Mrs. Pinet’s face appeared in the wedge. “John,” she called him.
Johan means John. I didn’t know that. That’s Dad’s name.
“I want you to know that I don’t plan on reporting this to the police.” she said. “I know you and Helga are good folk and you can handle this matter privately.” She lowered her voice, but we could still hear her. “I know he’s been givin’ you some problems. I heard about what they found in his locker.”
What was she talking about?
Johan said something, but we couldn’t make out his words. Mrs. Pinet nodded and then called to her sons, “Come on, boys, you’ll finish this in the morning. It’s late, there’s school tomorrow. Get inside.”
Sebastian immediately dropped the bag and skipped up the stairs into the house.
David hesitated, but Nick tossed his chin up and whispered, “Better do what she says.”
David’s body seemed to harden, and his mouth looked hungry for something. “Nick, oh Nick.”
Nick tensed. “Go.”
David’s lips formed a strange smile, and he disappeared into the house.
The front porch light went off.
“Get in the truck.” Johan had opened the passenger door for Nick. “Derek, Terry, get in the back.”
We all obeyed.
Johan drove Terry home. On the way there, none of us said a word. I could hear Terry swallowing beside me, that’s how quiet it was. When we got to his apartment building, Terry leaned between the front seats. “Thank you, sir. Have a good night, sir.”
Johan didn’t say anything. He waited until Terry was safely inside his apartment, and drove away slowly.
That’s when I noticed I wasn’t breathing much. As a matter of fact, none of my breaths made it past my throat. I pushed my shoulders down and forced them there, like Mom had showed me, then I widened my nostrils to try and get some more air inside them. I leaned back into the seat and closed my eyes. Sometimes, if I concentrate and picture the sponges inside my chest opening up like flowers after the rain, I can get my lungs to work without my medicine.
Johan had started talking. He wasn’t yelling, just talking real slow, but it couldn’t be good because he was grumbling in Norwegian.