by Ruth Madison
Jake called 911. Then Alex came into sight. His eyes met Jake's, then he looked down and his face changed. “Paul?” he whispered. He ran faster than he had ever run before and dropped to his knees in front of his brother and friend. “Paul, can you hear me?”
“Stay with him and wait for the ambulance,” Jake said.
“Of course.” Alex gently lifted Paul's head onto his lap.
“Help me up.” Jake put his hand on Alex's shoulder and struggled back to his feet.
“What are you doing?”
“Fulfilling my part of the bargain.”
Alex called down the hallway after him, “Don't do anything stupid, Jake. He did this to Paul, think what he could do to you!”
Jake knew where to find Derek, in a little-used bathroom at the far end of the school. Derek used it as though it were his own private office. Jake pushed open the door with his shoulder and Derek regarded him without surprise. “Are you upset about what I did to that fag?” Derek said.
“If you mean Paul, then yes.”
“So he sent a cripple to beat me up? Why didn't he send his boyfriend?”
“If you mean Alex, then fuck you, you don't know anything about us.”
“Taking this awfully personally, aren't you?”
“Yes, I am taking this personally, because it's my family you're screwing with. I should have put you in your place years ago.”
Derek laughed. “I'm not going to hit you, cripple.”
“You know my name.”
“You're right, I do.”
Then Jake punched him in the stomach. Derek doubled over, his eyes bulging in surprise. He coughed, tried to get his breath back. He stood up and no longer looked superior and in control, it was real rage in his eyes. Jake considered for a moment that he may have miscalculated this.
But Derek took a deep breath and instead of lashing out, kicked the cane out of Jake's hand. Jake, not prepared for the sudden lack of support, grabbed the sink next to him to stay upright. “You know he deserved it,” Derek said. “You can't just wear whatever you want, do whatever you want. Order has to be maintained.”
“By you? Why don't you let yourself off the hook?”
“Things are going to go my way. I am the one in control here, Kenley, don't forget it. I can do whatever I want to you, or to that snot-nosed queer who looks down on me.”
“Go ahead, then. Be a big man, beat up on the people who are weaker than you are.”
“That's what you don't get, you're all weaker than I am. Every last one of you.”
“In this little fishpond, fine. Maybe that's true, but you're going to get crushed by the world at large.”
“I'll take my chances,” Derek said, and he walked forward, giving Jake a push as he walked past him out the door. Jake hit the ground, but didn't bother to get up for a while. He looked up at the bottom of the porcelain sink and wondered if that really counted as doing something he was afraid of. He decided that it did. Derek would be out of his life soon enough and Jake would not have wanted to miss the chance to confront him. Jake pulled out his cellphone and dialed his brother.
“Is Paul okay?”
“He'll be fine. Are you?”
“Yeah.”
The principal made an announcement asking for anyone with information on the attack to come forward. It was a pointless gesture. Everyone knew who had done it and no one was going to tell him.
That night the twins were eating dinner alone, as their parents were out at another of their functions. Jake took it as a good sign that they were continuing their social calender despite his diagnosis. Alex had spent the afternoon with Paul in the hospital.
“His parents came to get him and the hospital had no problem releasing him, it's mostly just a lot of bruising.”
“If Paul wouldn't dress the way he does.”
“So it's his fault that they harass him? Jesus, Jake, he could have been killed.”
“No, it's not his fault, it's just I wish he would take more care to protect himself. He chooses to stick out and people who stick out get picked on.”
“I know you're too cool for him now, but he is your friend.”
“Don't talk like that. It's not that I think I'm too cool, it's that I know how to blend in and not cause a stir. You and Sophie and Paul don't seem to have that skill. Why does he let people think that he's gay?”
Alex picked up his plate and walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs without answering.
***
Sophie heard the news the next day when Paul wasn't in school. That afternoon Jake was taking the town bus with her. His house was close to school, but not close enough for him to walk anymore. While they sat on the bus, Jake tried his argument again, this time with Sophie. “Why does Paul have to make himself a target the way he does?”
“Really? That's what you think? Why does Derek think it's his right to punish people who are minding their own business?”
“It's just how things work.”
“I've had about enough of you,” Sophie said.
“You know you love me.”
“You are so self-absorbed.”
“Am not.”
“Have you even noticed what's going on with your brother?”
“What's wrong with Alex?”
“I don't know, but something is eating at him. You're so wrapped up in yourself you can't notice anyone else.”
“Cut it out, I've heard enough about what a selfish son-of-a-bitch I am, okay? There's nothing wrong with my brother.”
“I'm just saying...”
“If I'm so self-absorbed, how did I figure out what your problem is?”
“What are you talking about?”
“All these fears and sensory problems, I did some research and you have Asperger's syndrome.”
“Jake, you're not exactly a doctor.”
He opened his backpack and pulled out a stack of printed pages. “Here, I printed this out, read it and you'll see it explains every one of your quirks. I have a label, and now you get to have one too.”
Sophie looked down at the pages. She wasn't sure how she felt about this. On the one hand, it might be nice to find out there was a reason for her quirks, but would it take away her uniqueness to know that? Jake seemed to see it as something that bonded them and that was touching to her. So, she smiled and thanked him for going to the trouble of finding this information.
“Let's talk about something more fun,” she said. “The prom is coming up.”
“You think I should go to the prom? Sophie, you really have lost it.”
“We should all go. You'll regret it later if you don't.”
“I'm already regretting going.”
“So that means you're coming?”
“I don't have a date.”
“Come with your brother and Paul and me, we'll just do a group thing.”
Jake grumbled a non-committal noise, but two weeks later he found himself sitting at a table in a ballroom watching people dance. He was already in a bad mood because they'd had to fight to use the elevator to get to the ballroom where the prom was being held. “I'm not trying to look like a pimp with this fucking thing,” Jake had said to the person at the front desk, holding up his cane, “I can't walk right, you idiot.” Alex took over and convinced the man to let them use the elevator.
“I can't believe you talked me into this,” Jake said now.
“I just thought you might have a good time,” Sophie said.
“Watching Lucy dance. That's a real good time.”
“Shut-up, Jake. You don't have the monopoly on misery here.”
“You seem to be having a fine time.”
“Seem.” Sophie looked out across the dance floor away from him, but he still saw her eyes and knew that something was bothering her. Still, he wasn't ready to let go of his own pain.
“What are you all upset about? Nobody asked you to the dance?” he said.
Sophie stared at him and just as guilt began to prickle his skin s
he spoke, '”Fine. I don't know why I talk to you. I can see you're too busy feeling sorry for yourself to consider the strain this night puts on other people besides you.”
“This was your idea,” Jake said, but she was already gone, shoving her way through the crowd. He knew she didn't leave the dance, though, because he saw her a while later standing on the other side of the room.
Sophie thought about calling her dad to pick her up. She didn't know why she had thought this would be fun. Most of the time it didn't bother her that she wasn't a popular kid, but she could really feel how different she was here. And time was running out for her to do what she had promised she would. Tonight was the perfect opportunity and she was fighting it.
She didn't have a cellphone, as she found phones scary, but she could use the phone downstairs at the venue. It was an emergency, she could get through one simple phone call to her dad. She started to walk that way, but tripped on the hem of her dress. She was powerless to stop the forward momentum and landed in an embarrassed heap on the floor. Her face flushed and her vision began to blur with tears. She would never be the graceful, elegant, mature women that Jake dated.
She hardly felt the energy to get to her feet again. The night could not get any worse. This was going to be her memory of her senior prom. It was ruined.
Then a hand presented itself in her periphery vision, through the veil her own hair was creating across her face.
“Thank you,” she muttered, grasping the hand and standing up. She found herself standing in front of Jake, less than two inches from his face. “Sorry,” she said, “You shouldn't be having to rescue me all the time.”
He smiled. “If I don't do it, who will? Sophie, you are such a walking disaster that you may be the only person left on earth that I can still help.” He pulled her close and hugged her with one arm, while leaning on his cane with the other. “Why don't you come back to the table and make fun of people with me?”
She started to smile and agree when she noticed something over his shoulder. “Oh my gosh,” she said, her mouth hanging open in surprise, and Jake slowly turned to see what she was looking at.
It was his brother. A slow song was playing and Alex was swaying while holding Paul. They seemed unaware of the rest of the room, looking only at each other. People nearby stopped dancing, looked around at everyone else to see what they should think or say. Jake stared. And then Alex leaned forward and kissed Paul on the lips.
A chaperone arrived and pulled Alex by the arm until he had to drop his hold on Paul and both began to laugh. Jake turned back to Sophie with wide eyes.
“I guess you were right,” he said, “Something is going on with my brother.”
“Looks like they held up their part of the pact too.”
“That just leaves you, Sophie. What will it be, pencils? Telephones? Juice?”
“Shut-up, Jake.”
“Make me.”
“I love you.”
“What?” Jake dropped his hold on her and she crossed her arms in front of her body.
“I'm sorry,” she said, “I didn't mean for it to come out like that. It's just. That's my thing. That's what I promised I would do. Tell you. When I first moved here I knew you wouldn't ever even look at me. But now we've been kind-of friends and I really value that. But you'll be going off to college and I don't even know what I'll be doing and I just wanted to tell you before I missed my chance. And if Alex and Paul are brave enough to do what they just did, then I have to be brave enough to tell you I love you.”
“I don't know what to say,” Jake said.
“It's okay, you don't have to say anything. I just had to say it. So that's all of us. We all did what we promised to do. Do you think we'll be happy?”
“I'll tell you what would make me happy right now.”
“What's that?”
He stepped toward her again and kissed her.
“Oh Jake, your reputation”
Jake laughed. “What's left of it can go for all I care. I'll let you in on a secret, being popular isn't really worth it.”
The Guru's Blessing
Sumitra knew what her parents were going to ask the guru. She was turning twenty-nine in two month's time and they were beyond desperate to get her married. She went along to try to be a good daughter, but in her heart she knew she could never be happy with the men her parents found and finding one on her own was close to impossible. There was one very specific thing she needed in a man and she could never tell anyone about it.
She sat in between her parents on the hard tile floor of the ashram waiting for the guru to arrive. She had to admit it was a beautiful building. Two large open doorways and paneless windows across the length of the walls allowed the mild Indian breeze in and Sumitra could see a cluster of coconut trees that instantly made her feel like she was on vacation. There were no coconut trees at home in New York.
The guru's seat was gold, carved to look like the sun. Beside it were tall, black marble mutris of gods. There were about fifty other people sitting cross legged around the floor. They all seemed to be authentic Indians, unlike Sumitra. She was what people back home called a coconut: brown on the outside and white on the inside. She could fake Indian for a little while, but her American roots quickly showed. Her mother had to dress her to come here today. Sumitra didn't have a clue how to put on a sari and no other dress was allowed. Her pudgy old dad was even wearing a full-on dhoti.
People seemed really sincere. Several were prostrating themselves in front of the murtis. Most had trays in front of them ladened with fruit and flowers to offer the guru, in return for his blessings, of course. Sumitra's mother had already been eyeing the other trays to make sure that theirs was the most impressive.
The guru arrived and took his seat. He was a heavy older man in an orange robe and he had a kind face, like how Sumitra imagined Santa Claus. He had three white lines painted across his forehead. Now that the guru was here, Sumitra's parents were getting excited. Her dad elbowed her and grinned. He had been here two years before and had been talking ever since about bringing the whole family. He said the guru's grace had caused amazing changes in his life, which seemed to be mostly to do with less ulcer pain.
Their family got in line. Her dad carried the tray of offerings on his shoulder as they slowly moved forward. Near the front Sumitra could hear the devotees begging the guru for things. They were all speaking Indian languages: Hindi, Kanada, Tamil. But the melody of the voices still gave away the pleading. In every language that quality remained the same.
The heat was beginning to bother Sumitra. She wanted to sit down and thought if she wasn't able to soon, she might faint. It made her wonder why she had agreed to this trip. The motherland didn't hold much for her, just long hot days of making relatives happy while dreaming of having her computer back and a bedroom to herself. Finally it was their turn and she shuffled behind her parents, following their lead to touch the ground in front of the guru and then her heart.
Standing in front of the guru, listening to her mother beg for a good husband for her daughter, Sumitra felt unexpected embarrassment pricking at her face. When she had agreed to do this, she hadn't realized just how humiliating it was going to feel. She bowed her head and kept her hands in namaskar, but she wondered if he had some magic ability to see into her head. God, she hoped not. She didn't want the guru knowing how much of the darshan time she spent thinking about sex.
The guru held up his hand in blessing and smiled at the family. They backed away and all three prostrated.
***
That afternoon they were going to see the guru again; twice a day every day for the next week. “We came all this way,” her dad said, “We've got to get the most out of it.”
Her mom wrapped Sumitra again and put the hem of the sari so low, she tripped on it most of the way to the ashram. As they approached the building Sumitra saw something that stunned her. There was a wheelchair sitting empty outside the hall. It wasn't an old-person wheelchair, either. It h
ad no handles and no arms and the foot plate was one solid piece. It was black, but scuffed, and was missing its cushion. She had never seen such a thing in India. This gorgeous, latest-style wheelchair couldn't be Indian, it almost felt as though it had followed her from America.
What was it doing here? This was some insane coincidence. She could not let herself get too excited. It would be a tease, a let-down, just like it always was. There was no purpose, no signs, and no deeper meanings. Yet, they had just asked the guru for a proper man for Sumitra, and today a wheelchair appeared. Did the guru somehow cause it? No, that was crazy. He could not possibly know, let alone arrange circumstances like this. Probably the wheelchair belonged to some middle-aged, nasty-looking guy. Maybe it belonged to a woman. Sumitra had a terrible tendency to forget that it was possible for women to be disabled too. But to see something as unlikely as this the day after the guru held up his hand in blessing over her? It was too strange.
Her parents were oblivious to her inner turmoil as they climbed the steps into the offering hall. Sumitra was immediately on the look out for whom the wheelchair belonged to. She saw him at the back, leaning against the wall and the only reason she knew she had the right person was that he was sitting on the missing wheelchair cushion.
He was a young man, around her own age, and his parents sat on either side. His legs were barely crossed, looking more like rag doll legs hastily arranged. Sumitra gently herded her parents to a spot where she would be able to keep observing him. Throughout the darshan, Sumitra tried to guess what his disability was. She was guessing paraplegic. She had never before seen an Indian paraplegic. Then again, the only disabled people she had yet seen in India were dirty old beggars crawling along the dusty roads.
Sumitra doubted it was possible to find in India the kind of independent, resourceful, and self-assured paraplegic she was hoping to marry. Disability issues didn't seem to be on the radar here. Sumitra spent most of the darshan musing about how the experience of disability was different in various countries, while always keeping a subtle eye on the disabled young man.
Then his family was going up for the guru's blessing. He began scooting his body along the tile floor behind his parents. Every single eye in the place was on him. Sumitra looked around the hall at all the stares. It must be hard knowing everyone was watching. She hated to be one of them, but she didn't want to miss this either.