End of the Innocence

by John Goode

  We locked eyes. The redness held off at the corner of my vision, but I think Bozo had got the gist of things.

  He looked away first.

  I ignored him and moved over to Kyle, whose face was swelling up. “You okay?” I asked, kneeling down. No answer. “Kyle?” A confused wandering gaze finally focused on my face. “Kyle, are you all right?”

  “Depends,” he replied distantly. “Do you have an identical twin you never told me about?”

  I chuckled despite the seriousness of the moment. “No.”

  “Yeah, then not doing okay.” He closed his eyes.

  I heard the guy get up behind me, and I turned around, putting myself between him and Kyle. He didn’t look all that hurt, to be honest. “You think you can put your hands on a United States Marine?”

  “I didn’t.” I sneered back at him. “I put my bat on your back and in your gut and in front of your face.”

  Everything was about to flare up again. The arrival of a police car saved me from going to prison for homicide.

  Jennifer’s dad and his partner exited the squad car. I was actually glad he’d arrived so I could get back to Kyle. The sheriff took in the scene and then looked back to GI Joe. “Step away from the boys,” he ordered. One of his hands rested on his taser.

  “He hit me,” the guy shouted.

  “You hit that poor boy first!” Mrs. Aimes called out. “Stephen, he’s a monster! Get him off my property!” A little shakily, she pointed at the man in black.

  The sheriff looked over at us. “You wanna press charges, Kyle?”

  Kyle shook his head. “No thanks, just sugar for me.”

  “What if I want to press charges?” the man demanded.

  Jennifer’s dad walked right up to him. “Well, I would then have to ask why in the world you were beating up on a high school kid. And if I did that, then I’d need to take you down to the station, and there would be paperwork and a lot of crap.” He gave the man a chilling look, and I prayed he never knew that Jennifer and I had been intimate. “Or I can take off this badge, and you can try that shit with a grown-ass man.”

  The big guy in the black shirt took a step back. “I’m done here.” He glowered over at Kelly and his parents. “Unless you repent, you too will all perish.” The way he said it made it come off like a quote of some kind.

  Kyle, still on the ground with his eyes closed responded with. “If you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.” He opened his eyes to look at his attacker and added. “Matthew 6:15.”

  I had no idea what that meant, but it seemed to piss the man off even more. He hauled his car door open and rammed himself into the driver’s seat. He barreled out of Kelly’s driveway and almost lost control of the car when it hit the icy road. The sedan did a lovely set of fishtailing until he finally slowed down and crept off in low.

  I helped Kyle to his feet slowly, taking a mental inventory of every wound on his body in case I ever met the “Reverend” again. “Can we get him inside? Good,” I said to Mr. Aimes as I walked past him. I wasn’t really interested in his answer at the moment. Kelly followed me in and helped me settle Kyle down on the couch.

  “Dude, you should have seen him,” Kelly explained to me excitedly. “That guy looked like he could take apart our entire front line by himself, and Kyle here didn’t even blink! It was crazy brave. Mad props.”

  “Was any of that good?” Kyle asked me as I knelt beside him.

  “In Kelly talk that was a five-star review,” I clarified, touching the side of his face gently. The way he moaned made it pretty clear that he was in pain. To Kelly I said, “Grab me an ice pack.”

  Kelly nodded and rushed to the kitchen.

  “You know, when I call you my superhero, I don’t mean you should go out and, like, physically fight crime, right?”

  He smiled over at me. “Oh. Now you tell me that. I had a costume picked out and everything.”

  “Is he going to be all right?” Mrs. Aimes asked, touching down in the living room, a tornado of worry. “That man hit him pretty hard.”

  “I’m a superhero, ma’am,” Kyle said from the couch. “It’s all part of the service.”

  I nudged him to be quiet. Fortunately Kelly’s mom looked at him like he had suffered a concussion. “He seems pretty okay,” I answered for him. “Just a couple of bruises.”

  “A man of God hitting a teenager, what is the world coming to?” she asked out loud. “And to think we were considering sending Kelly to his camp.”

  “He doesn’t need a camp,” I said to her. “There’s nothing wrong with him.”

  She looked like she was going to say something more, but Mr. Aimes walked in, and that killed the whole conversation. “Well, he’s gone, and the sheriff thinks he won’t be back,” he reported gruffly. He looked at Kyle on the couch and me kneeling next to him, and his face blanched a little. “He going to live?”

  “No thanks to you,” Kelly answered him, bringing me the ice pack.

  “How was I supposed to know…,” Mr. Aimes began to argue and then realized there were strangers listening to them fight. “This is not the time or place, Kelly,” he warned.

  Kyle put the ice pack to his face and sat up slightly. “You’re wrong, Mr. Aimes, this is the best time.” The older man looked like his head would explode, but Kyle pressed on. “Kelly isn’t broken, and he doesn’t need to be saved. There is nothing wrong with him, and the sooner you realize that, the better it is going to be.”

  Mr. Aimes shot back with “This is a family matter, young man.”

  “That’s why you called Father Skullbuster in, right?” Kyle snarled back. “Because he’s part of the family?”

  Kelly’s dad looked at me and said, “Brad, maybe it’s time for you and your friend to leave.”

  I agreed, but I wasn’t giving up without a fight. “Kyle’s right, and you know it, sir. I’ve known Kelly all my life, and I think he is a great guy.” I looked over at Kelly and saw the shock and surprise on his face. “I know I wasn’t the best of friends, but Kyle is right. Kelly isn’t broken, and he isn’t wrong. All you have to do is look past yourself to see that.”

  Mr. Aimes didn’t say a word, but you could tell my words had hit home.

  “Come on, Batman,” I said, helping Kyle up. “Let’s get you home.”

  “Batman? Really?” he asked as he stood up, more than a bit wobbly. “You think I could pull a cape like that off?”

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, I had to laugh at that.

  “Here, I’ll help,” Kelly said, taking Kyle’s other arm. We walked him slowly to my car. Once we were out of earshot, Kelly said, “Thanks for being here, Kyle. I didn’t know what to say to that guy.”

  Kyle nodded to him and then winced. “Ouch. No problem, I told you. I’m on your side in this. You are not alone, Kelly.”

  Kelly looked over Kyle at me and shook his head with a smile, which pretty much said it all. I couldn’t believe I was dating Kyle either. We got him in the car and closed the door. I turned to Kelly. “You going to be able to handle them?” I asked, gesturing back toward his house.

  “I don’t know, man,” he replied, looking down at his feet. “I wasn’t even sure I liked guys, and now I’m outed to the whole town. I can’t blame them for not handling it when I’m just as fucked up about it as they are.”

  “It gets better,” I said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Not all at once and not in huge leaps, but slowly, it does. Trust me.”

  He looked at Kyle and back to me. “It’s easier with someone.”

  I gave him a smile, but I knew it had no meaning. “You have us.”

  He didn’t return the smile. “Yeah, thanks.” He put his arms around himself. “Damn, it’s cold out here! Get him home!” he said, pointing at Kyle, and ran back into the house.

  There was something very wrong with him, but I couldn’t put my finger on it yet.

  KYLE

  BRAD dropped me off at home and
took off back to work.

  He had wanted to call Mr. Parker and tell him he was taking the day off, but I told him not to worry. I was sore, but there was nothing broken. All I needed was some rest, and it wouldn’t matter if he was hovering over me watching me sleep or not.

  My mom was off to her job at Better Buy, which was a godsend.

  I took a long, hot shower and curled up in my bed, trying to find a position that didn’t hurt so much, and fell asleep.

  I had a dream that Kelly and I were falling from an airplane, hurtling toward the ground at terminal velocity. He was looking back up at me with his hand outstretched, begging me to save him. I was reaching out as far as I could, trying to force my arm to get longer to grab his hand.

  As the seconds turned to minutes, the dots below us began to grow into houses, and I realized we were going to crash into Foster. I don’t know how, but I forced myself to bridge the gap between Kelly and me; the space between our hands grew smaller and smaller. I could almost feel my fingertips brush his when something grabbed my other hand and pulled me back. I looked up and saw Brad clutching me close when he pulled the ripcord on his parachute. As the two of us slowed our descent, I saw Kelly fall away from me. His screaming rang in my ears like church bells.

  I buried my face into Brad when he hit the ground.

  The ground came up and hit me in the face when I fell out of bed. My covers were tangled around my feet, and I screamed in panic as the terror of falling hit me full force. Because life sucks, I fell on the bruised side of my face, which sent ice picks of pain through the side of my head.

  For a long time, until the pain settled and the dream faded a little, I clung to the security of a solid floor underneath me, feeling about as wiped out as I ever had in my life.

  The sound of someone pounding on my front door made me jump out of my skin.

  I untangled my legs and stood, every motion hurting and making me nauseated. I hobbled toward the front door, trying not to moan with each step. I didn’t even get halfway there when the pounding came again. The hammering was loud and obnoxious, like the heroes do on crime shows where the police are trying to scare the criminals into opening the door. I half expected to find the cast of a CBS procedural drama glaring at me from the other side.

  Instead I came bruised face to face with Robbie and Jennifer.

  “Oh my God,” Robbie said, rushing in, not touching me, but hovering his hands over my bruises. “Oh my fucking God!” he exclaimed again.

  I stared at Jennifer, who looked tired and sad. “My dad told me what happened,” she explained as she closed the door. To Robbie, she snapped, “He’s not dying, you queen. Stop trying for the Oscar and give the boy some space.”

  Robbie took a step back and gave her a disgusted stare. “If I was going to win anything, it would be a Tony. When I do, I will be sure to thank the bitch I used to know in Podunk, Texas.” Back to me he said, “So some Bible thumper did this?”

  “Robbie, help me get him to the couch,” Jennifer ordered curtly. I knew I was really hurting when I didn’t tell both of them I could cross the five-mile wide living room on my own.

  Two minutes later, I gingerly sat down on the couch and sighed. “I don’t think he knew much about the Bible, to be honest. He was there from the straight camp thing.” I closed my eyes and tried to find a place where pain didn’t exist. “Oh, he’d been a Marine too.”

  “No he wasn’t,” Jennifer corrected me. “My dad ran a background check on him. He got kicked out after boot camp for fighting.” I looked over at her, and she added, “My brother is a Marine, and none of the ones I know act like that.”

  “All the ones I know do,” Robbie said darkly.

  “Get out,” I responded instantly. Both Jennifer and he gave me shocked looks. “I just got my ass kicked for standing up to one bigot. I’m sure as hell not going to let another one into my home!” I grated furiously. “That guy’s problem wasn’t that he believed in God or was straight or was a Marine or any of that. His problem was that he was a small-minded, hateful person who has issues. Period. Just him, not all Marines, not all religious people, and certainly not all straight people. So take that straight-hating bullshit and get out.”

  Robbie jumped up. “I do not hate straight people!”

  “Yes you do,” Jennifer interjected.

  He looked down at Jennifer like she had turned into a cockroach.

  “Don’t give me that look. You do hate straight people,” she repeated.

  “I do not,” he argued.

  “Sure you do,” she answered frankly. “How many times did you tell me that Brad and his friends were just pussy chasing douches, and that none of them were worth a thing? But once you found out Brad liked guys, he was okay suddenly. You think everyone in this town from my dad down to the guys I go to school with are homophobic assholes, and you have said that multiple times.”

  “That guy beat him up!” Robbie countered, pointing at me. “A straight guy beat him up, and it was the same straight guy who wanted to take Kelly to a straight camp to ‘cure’ him! Straight people—”

  “Straight people called the cops, a straight cop who threatened to kick that fake reverend’s ass for beating me,” I cut in. “So out of four straight people, that jackass was one who wasn’t on my side. In the diner it was Tony’s father making the scene. A straight woman, Tony, and half a dozen straight customers told him to go fuck off. So the ratio gets even worse if you want to add them.” I could see the growing realization on his face.

  “There are more people on this planet who will be nice to you than won’t,” I said, ignoring my aching face. “The only difference is the ones who are loud and obnoxious are the only ones we tend to see. The hatred and seething fury gets all the press, while the quiet acceptance seems to fade into the background. Sure there are twenty news stories about how many people showed up to get their free chicken dinner because they don’t believe in gay rights, but how many people didn’t show up? How many people voiced their protest? How many people just simply decided never to shop there again?” I shook my head, which was a mistake, but I forced myself to go on. “All you’re doing is focusing on Riley’s death. You’ve forgotten his life. You forget that you have a place where people shop, spend money, and do so happily. You have a house that people don’t picket or try to burn down, and you drive a car that I haven’t seen defaced or had the tires slit. This is not a great town, but it is not filled with the hatred you seem to think it is.”

  “What you don’t know…,” Robbie began to explain, but I cut him off.

  “Do you know how many people showed up at the school board when they were threatening to kick Brad off the team? And do you know how many of those people showed up to protest what was happening? I didn’t see you in the audience, but I did see people I had never even talked to show up and argue that what they were doing was wrong. If this place was so bad, then wouldn’t Brad and me already have been beaten to death? Wouldn’t we have found burning crosses on our lawn?”

  I paused for breath because I was pretty pissed now, and the hurting was interfering with me breathing enough to stay pissed.

  “In fact, let’s go back to that. Why weren’t you there at that meeting?” I asked him. “Where was the big, bad advocate for gay rights when that went down?” He looked away from me but didn’t answer. “Well? Come on, Harvey Milk, where were you?”

  He mumbled something, but neither Jennifer nor I could hear.

  “Come again?”

  “I showed up!” he screamed suddenly. “I did show up.”

  “I didn’t see you,” I said, not believing him. “Why didn’t I see you?”

  He sighed deeply as he sat down and began to search for a cigarette. “I left.”

  Jennifer looked at him in confusion. “Wait, you were there? You said you didn’t go.”

  He pulled out a smoke and lit it. “I lied. I went and even got into the building.” He took a long drag. “And then I turned around and left.”
r />   “Why?” she asked.

  He didn’t say anything for a long time as he nursed his cancer stick. Finally he ashed it and said, “Because I saw Tyler there and left. There was no way I could deal with him.”

  “Why?” I asked again.

  “Because I don’t like him,” he hissed at me in response.

  “So you don’t like him? Why? What could he have done that was so bad that…?” I began to ask.

  “He was there the night Riley died,” he answered over my question. “He was there and did nothing about it. He didn’t try to help me, he didn’t come to the funeral, and he certainly hasn’t talked to me since.” He flicked another ash. “You say this town isn’t as bad as I say it is. I say you haven’t lived here long enough for it to show you its true face.” He put out the cigarette and got up. “Anyway. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I do hate straight people, but unlike those ignorant homophobic assholes you hear about, I wasn’t born hating them. I learned the old-fashioned way.” He looked at Jennifer. “You coming or staying?”

  She looked at me, and I waved her off. “It’s okay, I feel better than I look.”

  Hesitantly she grabbed her purse and moved toward the door. “You have your phone? Call if you need anything.”

  I smiled and regretted that too. “I will.”

  “Oh, and Robbie,” I called out as he opened the door. He looked back at me. “I think it is important to note, the guy who beat me up, he isn’t from Foster.”

  He gave a small laugh. “Kyle, they are all from Foster, if not physically, in spirit.” And he left.

  I felt worse than I did when I woke up. I took an eon to stand up and then went back to bed, praying I could get at least a little rest before the next thing hit me.

  BRAD

  THE days leading up to Christmas were crazy.

  Not only did the traffic in the store triple, but the amount of garbage that Kelly, and Kyle as well, had to deal with became almost overwhelming. One night a group of assholes dumped some kind of chemicals over Kelly’s front lawn so that the grass turned brown and died and spelled out the word FAG. His parents had to tear up most of the yard to get rid of it.