Free Falling
Page 5
The cab came, and Carla walked me over to it. “I love my uncle,” she beamed. “I love him so much. And you too. Now go to Jamison’s and get some more love. You’ve been through the wringer tonight and none of it was your fault. Believe me on that, because it’s the truth.” Then she paid the cab driver and told him the address. I was still holding Jamison’s present, tears were running down my face, and I was having trouble catching my breath. My dad had hit me hardest right where I was the most vulnerable, in the fear and guilt that I may have caused my brother’s death, and that I had not been able to save him.
* * * *
Numbness contained me until Jamison’s dad drew me out of the cab and held me against him. I went limp. I don’t know why I didn’t fall. They led me into the house, and I sat on the couch between the two of them, the gaily wrapped present being crushed by my grief, as my hands squeezed it with pain. Jamison took it away from me.
It was, by now, New Year’s Day. It felt like the morning was painted in black and white, instead of colors. It felt like the sun would not rise and cast its golden glow over the white of the snow outside, or over the black of the shadows and the pain inside my heart. My grief tore at me like a sword slicing through my chest. I remembered James Dean’s line in the old movie Rebel Without a Cause: “You. You’re tearing me apart.”
And though the context was different, I understood that the feelings behind it were the same as I was feeling now, the confusion and anger and pain. And if you don’t know the movie, go get it. I watched it with my grandfather when he was still alive, and we both felt the same feels at the same places. Some things never change.
It was almost two in the morning by the time I’d calmed down, and Jamison and his dad had made me eat something, toast I think, and I drank some tea or water or something. By that time I was exhausted and they were yawning. His dad told us to go to bed, and he walked upstairs with us. As I went into Jamison’s bedroom with him, his dad did the strangest thing. He smiled, and then looked sad, both at the same time, and then quietly but firmly, he shut the door to Jamison’s room behind us.
He had never let us be in the bedroom together with the door shut before. I knew in my heart that it symbolized something terribly important, but I wasn’t quite sure what that was. All I knew was that in the darkness, with only the warm glow of a streetlamp coming through the window to light us, Jamison’s lips found mine, and there was no longer anything to stop our free falling into the centers of each other’s hearts.
THE END
ABOUT EMERY C. WALTERS
Emery C. Walters was born Carol Forde, a name he soon knew didn’t fit the boy he was inside. Transition was unknown back then, so he married and then bore and raised four children. When his youngest child, his gay son, left home, Emery told Carol that she had to step aside, and he fully transitioned from female to male in 2001.
Emery worked in county government and as a college writing tutor before retiring. He and his wife Robyn, herself raised mistakenly as a boy, live in Hawaii where they combine snorkeling, scuba diving, and volunteer work with activities to boost LGBT rights and awareness.
Interested in Ninjutsu, both land and underwater photography, and writing, Emery can usually be found writing, reading, or sailing on his imaginary pirate ship.
Emery’s 2010 first published novel, Last Year's Leaves, is an intense story of recovery from abuse and loss, finding love, and coming out whole. The book is laced with his trademark humor. His recent publications include four other coming of age novels involving coming out and overcoming obstacles as well as two books of short stories. All are humorous and filled with hope. Drystan the Dire, Emery’s Welsh pirate ancestor, shows up at times to help the heroes and annoy the villains. Emery currently has two more novels in the publishing pipeline.
Between them, the Walters have eight adult children, umpteen grandchildren, and one great grandchild, none of whom can do a thing about the genetic material handed down to them—their gift to the future. So there. More information can be found online at ftemery-theemeryboard.blogspot.com.
ABOUT QUEERTEEN PRESS
Queerteen Press is the young adult imprint of JMS Books LLC, a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance. Visit queerteen-press.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!