Playing Cupid

by SC Alban

  “Okay,” he said easily, tossing the orb into the air and catching it before placing it back into his coat pocket. “Sure, that’ll work.”

  My breath escaped with relief, my shoulders visibly falling.

  “Thank you, Amadeo,” I gushed. “I promise you won’t regret it. We’ll find Jay his match and you’ll go back home, list complete, quota met, with all the bragging rights to go with it.”

  “Oh, well, since you put it that way,” he said smiling. “You know, believe it or not, I could never resist a good brag session, especially at work. I know, I know, it’s hard to believe, as modest as I am. But really, Megan, I’m not as humble as I appear. Davina always reminds me I must be modest when I am on Earth.”

  Say what?

  “Are you telling me that I’ve met the modest version of you?”

  “Oh, yes. It’s probably impossible for you to imagine, what with my demure demeanor and all. But I’ll admit, I’ve been known to have a pretty healthy ego.”

  “Good to know,” I said, turning to check on Cosmo before heading out. “Well, we should probably go. Time is running out for you, and—”

  “Who are you talking to?” a voice from the barn entrance asked.

  I froze. I didn’t have to turn around. I knew who it was.

  “Jay,” I said, spinning to face him. “How long have you been standing there?”

  He walked into the barn, his gait relaxed. He was wearing a pair of jeans, snow boots, and a black North Face jacket. A gray knit beanie sat loosely on his head. His face was softer, kinder. He looked different. This wasn’t the same guy I’d shared kitchen space with in home economics. My breath caught as I thought back to the way he had spoken to his mother. Perhaps this was the real Jay, not the one I saw at school and on the court.

  “Not long, just a second or so,” he responded. “Your dad said I could find you out here. I hope you don’t mind me dropping by.”

  “Um, no. I mean, yeah, it’s fine.” I offered him a friendly smile. I double-checked for Amadeo, but as suspected, he’d already popped out of sight. “I was just talking to Cosmo, my horse.”

  As if on cue, Cosmo neighed.

  Jay laughed. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

  “No, not at all,” I answered. “So, why are you here?”

  I cringed. Could I be any ruder? Especially since I was pretty sure I knew exactly why he was here: to get an explanation about why I had intruded on his very private, personal visit with his mother.

  “I was wondering if we could maybe talk.” His eyes were dusky as he stared at me, awaiting my response.

  “Sure,” I said, hesitant to be near him. The guilt of what had happened still hadn’t faded; it dithered like smoke in the air. But if I was as determined to find him a match as I claimed, then we needed to have this discussion in order move on. Besides, since my initial impressions about him had been so wrong, it would be good to get better acquainted.

  I sat on a bench near the opening of Cosmo’s stall and motioned for him to take a seat next to me. Neither one of us could avoid the massive, pink elephant hanging over our heads, so I took the initiative to start the conversation.

  “Jay, I’m not exactly sure what to say, here. I mean, I can kinda guess why you’re here, and I’m honestly quite embarrassed about what I did the other day. I just want to say—”

  He held his hand up.

  “Megan, wait, please,” he said. “May I talk first?”

  I nodded.

  “I didn’t come here because I wanted some explanation or anything. I came here because…” He let out a measured breath. “The other day at the center was weird. But I’m glad you were there. I know this may be totally whack, but it was comforting. I mean, I literally have no idea how someone ends up in the restricted area of a residential psychiatric treatment facility, but you know what? I don’t really care how it happened. Somehow, you were there, and I’m glad.”

  My eyes widened. It was the last thing I expected to come out of his mouth, but I’d never been so grateful in my life. A huge pressure lifted as I realized he wasn’t looking for answers. What would I have said if he’d wanted an explanation, anyway?

  ‘Sorry to intrude on your super private moment, but I was just following the orders of a cupid who told me to find you because you’re the last name on his love list, and as his temporary assistant, I’m bound to help him?’

  Yeah, uh, no.

  “You’re not just saying that, are you?” I treaded carefully. “I’ve heard you say things before to smooth things over. You don’t have to lie to me, you know. I can handle the truth.”

  Oh, the irony.

  “No, I know,” he answered and added, “And I know in the past I’ve said things, to teachers or friends, to stop them from asking questions, but you have to believe me; I’m glad you were there. I’m glad you saw her.”

  “Your mother.”

  He nodded.

  “How long has she been there?” I asked softly. “You don’t have to answer, but if you want to talk, I’m listening.”

  He took a deep breath. His chest expanded. His arm rubbed against mine, and a streak of lightning passed through me. What the…?

  I didn’t have time to question it.

  “The summer after kindergarten. Man, I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he started, a nervous laugh escaping his lips.

  “You don’t have to. I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

  “No, no, it’s not that at all. I want to,” he replied. “I want to tell someone. I want to tell you. I’ve been hiding this secret for so long. I’ve been lying to everyone—my teachers, my friends, everyone. No one knows. Dad said it was best if we just told everyone Mom left.” He laughed, but it wasn’t a happy one. “I guess she did, in a way. She left and never came back.”

  I sat beside him quietly and waited.

  “I don’t remember too much about it. Just bits and pieces here and there. I read somewhere every time you pull a memory, you’re actually remembering the last time you thought of it, not the actual event. So, I’m not even sure if what I remember is true or if it’s just a memory of a memory, you know?”

  I scrunched my brow. “I’m not sure it matters,” I replied. “You remember the feeling, how things felt, don’t you?”

  Jay nodded.

  “Well, I think sometimes, for certain events, feelings are more accurate than memories, anyway.”

  “Yeah. I like that.” He stared off into the distance.

  We sat, neither of us speaking, and I wondered if he was going to say anything more.

  “I don’t think I knew anything was wrong until the Christmas when I was in kindergarten. We were living on the coast, near Santa Maria. I was going through this ninja phase, and all I wanted for Christmas that year was a ninja sword.

  “Well, Christmas morning came, and I ran down the stairs. I was so sure that ninja sword would be under the tree, right? But when I got to the living room, there was no sword, no tree, no decorations. Everything had been packed up.”

  He paused and swallowed, his hand scrubbing his mouth and jaw. What was he feeling?

  “Mom was sitting in the center of the room, all of our decorations and presents tucked away and ready for the attic. I asked her what happened to all the presents and if Santa had come—you know, all the stupid things kids think Christmas is about. She began to cry and tell me it was her job to protect me, and she would never let anyone near me, especially Santa. She told me we had to whisper because he was always watching, always listening, and if I wanted to be a good boy, I would do as she said.

  “She started talking about some other things. I really can’t remember, because all I remember is crying, and then my dad came down and told me to go turn on the TV in the den while he took Mom upstairs. He came in later and told me Mom wasn’t feeling well and he would make it up to me.”

  I sat and listened, tears hot in the back of my eyes. I wiggled my toes in my boots and clenched my gloved hands together a
few times, trying to distract the raw emotion from revealing itself. Jay didn’t appear to notice; he seemed lost in his thoughts.

  “I was so confused. Was Mom sick? Would she get better? All I knew was that I wasn’t supposed to talk about it with anyone, especially anyone outside the home. It became our secret.”

  He glanced at me, a half smile tugging at his lips.

  “Jay, I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what to say. It must’ve been so hard on you. I can’t imagine someone asking you to lie like that. Especially when you were such a little boy. No one should be asked to keep such a big secret, definitely not a five-year-old.”

  He wrung his hands.

  “At first, it was hard. At school, other kids would want to come over and play, but I knew Dad would never allow it. What if Mom had an episode when we had guests? But as the year went on, it became like second nature. I would go to school and come home. Dad worked from home. Mom never left. Sometimes, Dad would take me out and do things, but mostly we all just stayed home.

  “There were good days and bad days, but the bad ones were creeping up on the good quickly. Things became more tense around the house. Mom began to have episodes where she became manic and paranoid. She heard things, voices. Sometimes, she told me what they said to her—” He shook his head. “I was six, Megan. I was terrified. Of course, I had no idea what to call it back then, but as I’ve learned more about her condition, I’ve come to understand her behavior and why she did what she did.”

  “Condition?”

  He appeared to be contemplating whether or not he should continue.

  “She was diagnosed as having schizophrenia with paranoia. The summer after I finished kindergarten, Dad was able to persuade the court to grant him conservatorship, and she was placed into a temporary treatment facility. By the end of summer, she’d made several attempts on her life. I didn’t know any of that. I just knew she wasn’t feeling well. And she couldn’t be trusted to take her meds. Dad took it to court, claimed she was a threat to herself and to me.”

  “Was she?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I mean, I don’t remember ever feeling I was in danger when I was with her. I don’t remember ever feeling she would hurt me. Ever. But to herself, yeah, I suppose.”

  He paused.

  “But I remember her not sleeping, like ever. She barely ate. She got really skinny. But still, Dad totally gave up on her. Just went ahead and put her away. He said it was because he didn’t want to have to worry about what she might do.” His eyes narrowed. “It was for her safety. And I guess I understand why he did it. The first facility was supposed to be temporary, a quick stay to bring her back to baseline, to get better, medicated and treated, you know? But soon enough, the catatonia set in and well, Dad made it pretty clear to me it would be a permanent situation. I never understood how he could just give up on someone he said he loved so easily. His own family. I would’ve never done that. I would never give up on someone I love.”

  He sat up straighter. One hand reached up and removed the beanie from his head as the fingers on his other hand ran through his exposed hair.

  “Anyway, he moved her to where she is now. We came up a few months after she was settled in, to be closer, but you’d never know it. Dad thought it’d be best if we didn’t share our little problem with anyone else. That’s what he calls her, ‘our little problem.’ Sometimes, I just want to scream, ‘She’s my mother! She’s not a problem!’ But it wouldn’t do any good. According to him, she’s as good as gone. But I worry; does she believe I feel the same way he does?”

  He quickly brushed away an escaped tear from his lashes. My heart clenched.

  “Jay, you can’t think like that. You’ll eat yourself up over it. Trust me on this one. When it comes to things like this, you have to believe in yourself and know you’re doing your best, and that’s all you can do.”

  I reached over and touched his shoulder. He smiled.

  “I feel like I’ve been hiding who I am my entire life. Hiding where I come from. Hiding where I’ve been. I’ve been the person everyone in this town thinks I should be. Good grades. Good at sports. Good at being a son, a student, a friend. Lord knows it’s way easier than the truth. But here’s the thing: It’s not really me. It’s not who I am. It’s a persona I carry around like a shield, a suit of armor, to protect me. And this armor, it not only keeps me in, but it keeps others out. I’m seventeen years old and I’m sad, you know? Here I am, getting ready to leave school, starting my adult life, and no one has ever really known me. And I’ve never really known anyone else, either.”

  He laughed suddenly. I jumped at the abrupt change.

  “Oh God, this feels good finally getting this out. I can’t believe I was terrified of coming here. I’m sure you can imagine. Well, maybe you can’t, but still, to share your biggest secret, to let someone see who you really are?

  “I’ll be honest; when I saw you at the center, my heart was pounding. It was the first time I’ve been so exposed. There was no getting out of it this time, no way to use flattery or talk my way out of it.” He nudged my shoulder. “And at first, I was so mad at you. I mean totally pissed.”

  “Jay, I—” Again, he held up his hand for me to wait.

  “I was mad, but then I felt…I don’t know. Relieved, maybe? Free? It’s like I don’t have to hide anymore, you know? I can be myself. I just kept thinking that at least one person in this town, in this world, can say they saw a glimpse of me. The real me. Finally, someone saw me.”

  “But Jay, you never had to pretend,” I said. “You could’ve been yourself.”

  He shook his head.

  “That’s a nice thought, but no, not really. Even if I’d somehow convinced my father telling the truth would be okay, how do you think everyone would treat me if they found out my mom was in the looney bin? Because that’s what people call it, you know. The looney bin. The madhouse. The mental hospital. There’s so much prejudice, so much judgement, stigma. It all sucks, no matter how you say it.

  “And worse, how would everyone look at me, knowing this type of mental health issue tends to run in families? How would other kids treat me then?”

  I understood exactly what he meant.

  “They’d probably treat you the same way as if your mother had died. They’d feel sorry for you. At first. They’d whisper for a while. But then, eventually, the novelty would wear off, and they wouldn’t want to deal with it anymore. You wouldn’t be worth it.”

  His mouth turned down at the corners, and he reached out and held my hand. My pulse raced like a hummingbird’s.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t your friend when your mother died. In a way, I knew how it felt. I knew what it was like to lose someone who means so much to you, and there’s nothing you can do about it. I could’ve helped you through it. Or at least, I could’ve tried. But I didn’t. It felt too close to my own truth. I didn’t want to be found out. I wasn’t brave enough to do it. I’m still not. The only reason I’m telling you this now is because you found out, not because I wanted to. I’m still a coward.”

  “You don’t have to apologize. And you’re not a coward. We all have our own path. I had to go through what I did on my own,” I replied. “I wasn’t ready for friends or family, or myself, for that matter. It had to be my journey. And I could’ve reached out to you, too. There were times when I’d thought something was bothering you, something was on your mind, but I didn’t. Why? Because I was busy trying to protect myself, keeping my own armor polished and intact. I didn’t look too far past my shadow to what was right in front of me. In a way, we were both in survivor mode, doing anything we could to make it through each day.”

  I paused, my voice dropping.

  “There is one thing I want you to know, though,” I continued. “I’m sorry, too. I made some pretty harsh judgments about you without ever taking the time to really know you. I don’t think any worse of you for telling m
e all this. If anything, I have a higher opinion of you. You’re so strong. Probably one of the strongest people I know. You’ve accomplished so much while dealing with some freaking heavy stuff. And I promise there’ll be no more judgment here.”

  His eyes lit up.

  “I knew you’d get it,” he said. “Just had a feeling. I knew if I came here and explained everything, you’d just…get it.”

  He paused.

  “Anyway,” he said and laughed softly, “I should really be on my way. You’ve probably got things to do today.”

  Smiling, he stood, pulling his hand from mine. I felt the loss of it immediately and shook it out. He stretched and stepped closer to Cosmo’s stall. I rose and followed. Leaning against the stall door, I reached in and called Cosmo to the front. He walked over and nuzzled my shoulder.

  “Wow, that’s so cool,” he said. “What’s its name again?”

  “Cosmo,” I replied.

  Without thinking, I took Jay’s hand and brought it up to Cosmo’s muzzle.

  “Here,” I said, placing his hand on the horse’s soft coat, letting mine rest over his. Again, my pulse quickened.

  “Now, Cosmo, all this stays between us, right?”

  “Oh, you can trust him,” I answered. “Cosmo knows what happens in the barn, stays in the barn.” I cringed the moment the words left my mouth. Holy hell. I didn’t just say that, did I? I waited for the barn floor to swallow me up. No such luck.

  “Oh, really,” Jay said, raising an eyebrow.

  My face flushed. I knew my cheeks were giving off a red glow. My brain scrambled as it demanded I say something witty in return, anything to make light of my embarrassment.

  “Yeah, um, anyway, I do have a few things to do today, so…”

  Smooth.

  I removed my hand from his and walked towards the main door as fast as my legs would go without actually running. Ugh. So dumb. He followed me to the archway, stopping just before stepping out into the snow.

  “Hey, Megan, thanks for the talk. It was nice.” He paused. “You know, I was wondering if maybe you’d want to hang out sometime, like for a coffee or something?”