Main Street on a stifling day. The sun was unforgiving and everyone was suffering the consequences of the unusual heat wave. The cars parked along the storefronts emitted visible waves of heat from their aluminum bodies. Men and women moved quickly from one destination to the next, sometimes from store to store, if for no other reason than to cool off.
Corey wore a short sleeved maroon shirt, and jeans. He always wore jeans, even on merciless days like this one. It wasn’t due to ignorance, but instead the fear of exposing his skinny white legs. His modesty was unrelenting.
He took shade beneath the cloth awnings above the entrances to the stores. This was a far cry from the city. Nothing like Market Street. Sadie’s business district was made up of one block. One streetlight brought you in; another at the opposite end of the block led you out toward the residential areas. There was Mandy’s Beauty Parlor, The Sadie Post Office, The pharmacy, an Antique Shop, Doctor Bradford’s Orthodontic Clinic, A small eatery called Grandma’s Kitchen, and finally, a large window that read: Timothy Evans: Attorney At Law.
Corey started across the street, an oncoming car waited for him to pass. Corey proceeded up onto the sidewalk offering a courteous gesture. He was heading toward his Father’s office when he saw Thomas from the corner of his eye sitting on a bench at the intersection.
Pleasantly surprised, he smiled to himself and started toward him. It had been nearly a month since he had last seen him. Corey assumed he had just become busy with other things as most had, with college preparation and all that it entailed. All at once, as Thomas came further into view, it hit him like lightening. He had never met him in the park that night. Oh well, that seemed like ages ago, it didn’t matter now. He came up behind him, glaring over Thomas’ shoulder.
He held his sketchbook on his lap, and his fingers fled across the page with great fervor as he drew the children who were roller skating in the vacant parking lot across the way. Corey placed his hands over Thomas’ eyes and felt him jolt from the shock of sudden darkness and his book fell to the sidewalk. Corey brought his mouth toward Thomas’ ear and he whispered delicately, “Guess who?”
Thomas knew that voice. He could recognize it anywhere. The voice that haunted him so. Corey took his hands away and Thomas gazed up at him grinning. He walked around the bench and sat next to him, picking up Thomas’ sketch book and placing back on his lap. “Where have you been?”
He looked a bit different, more settled, more grown up. What a difference a month made in him. Thomas could tell that he had dyed his hair a dark shade of red that blended with his dark features. “I’ve been around... doing my thing.”
Corey held his hands together, twisting the ring on his pinkie finger, “I haven’t seen you anywhere. Not at graduation, or the dance afterwards. You never call or come over anymore... I was beginning to wonder if you really ever existed or had just been some something I dreamed up.” He furrowed his brow to punctuate his playful accusation.
Thomas shifted on the bench. It had suddenly become so hard and uncomfortable, “I wasn’t at graduation, or the dance. I don’t get into those things... they bore me.”
“How did things go with your Dad?” Corey began, feeling a little flustered by being here with him again. He had almost forgotten how this felt.
Thomas took inventory of his surroundings. The children had all skated away; the street light had turned red. “They didn’t. I didn’t tell him.”
Corey’s face fell, “Oh, I see. You just acted so gung-ho about telling him, I just thought you would have.”
Thomas tossed him a stern look, “What for?”
Corey began to feel like he shouldn’t have inquired. Maybe Thomas figured it was none of his business, “Well... I- I remember you saying how you wanted to live your life. It seemed important to you, that’s all,” Corey said, suddenly uncomfortable.
Thomas nodded, “It was at the time... Then I started thinking about the purpose. There wasn’t any. I’ll tell him someday, when I find someone who I want to make a part of my life, then I’ll tell him... There’s no point in doing it until then.”
Corey rubbed the back his neck. He could feel the sun beating down on it, and his long hair made it worse, “Whatever happened to inspiration?” Corey smiled widely, “Remember you said I inspired you?” He winked playfully.
Thomas corrected him, “No. I said someone inspired me. I never said it was you,” he pointed out blankly.
Corey was thrown by his abrasive tone. “Oh... I misunderstood. I do that a lot.” He felt like a fool. Open mouth, inset foot. Thomas was right, those were his exact words. He never said it had been Corey who inspired him. “Well, what happened?”
Thomas leaned his sketch pad against the seat of the bench, “It just wasn’t what I thought it was. You see, I met this guy... this really wonderful person. I wanted to be with him, but I was a coward. Couldn’t find the guts to do it. Finally, when I did found the strength…” He looked down the road as a car flew by, “Well, he politely rejected me. He called it ridiculous.”
Corey sympathized with him. He could tell that Thomas was inflicted with that all too familiar disease... a broken heart. He placed his hand on his shoulder, “I know how it feels. If I had a nickel for every time I misread someone I’d have a lot of silver on my hands. There are plenty of guys who would be grateful to have a guy like you. Don’t let that one idiot bring you down. He obviously doesn’t know what he’s missed out on, so it’s his loss, not yours. Remember that.”
Thomas submitted a queer expression. Was it possible that Corey didn’t catch his analogy? By the expression on his face, Thomas could tell that Corey didn’t realize that it was him who he was referring to, or was he just being cruel? No, that wasn’t in his nature to be condescending. He was truly oblivious to it. “Well, it all sounds good, Corey, but I’m not over him yet. I still think about him from time to time.”
“You have to stop. He’s not worth the thinking effort. I know it’s easier said than done, you have to move on from this. If it’s the last time someone breaks your heart, then you’re lucky. I must’ve had mine broken a million times before I finally found someone who actually likes me as much as I liked them!” Corey commented, trying to be supportive.
“So, you’ve finally found someone, huh?” Thomas interrogated, glancing downward. He had seen him kissing that man. Though, he couldn’t tell who it was, he knew that was who Corey was talking about.
Corey smirked, “I think I have. He’s really sweet, and full of heart. It just goes to show you that when you’ve given up hope and believe you’re destined to be alone, someone comes along to prove you wrong.”
Thomas looked him directly in the eyes. They still devoured him to this day. It was as if no time had passed. “Who is he?” Thomas forced. Did he really want to know? It would only make the pain greater.
Corey lifted up his hand, showing him the golden band adorned with small diamonds, “His name is Chris. We’ve been together since... well, since right after you and I last spoke.”
“You happy?”
“Yes, I’m Happy! You should try spending seventeen years alone. Give up all hope. Think of yourself as completely unlovable,-“
“I have,” Thomas interjected impatiently, “You think you’re a caricature of the word lonely, like you have a monopoly on it. You’ve built your entire person on being poor, awkward, unfortunate Corey Evans, like you’re the only one who has ever been left behind... I really hope there’s more to you than that... because it gets old.”
Corey sat gape mouthed, unsure of how to react. He felt suddenly embarrassed and unwelcome. He stuttered when he spoke. “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that’s how I portrayed myself. I was just trying to let you know that I understood how you felt. I didn’t mean to assume...”
“You don’t have any idea how I feel. You think you do. You think you do because everyone’s experiences in life are only as authentic as you believe they are. You’re the only one who matters.�
� He stopped, pushing his hand through his hair hard.
Corey was horrified, he blinked his eyes fast as the words cut him. “Why are you saying this?”
Thomas leaned toward him. “There’s this place in my heart... It’s cold and dark, ridden with cobwebs. That’s my love. Old and forgotten. Malnourished. It offered itself to one person, one time, and it wasn’t good enough. Call it whatever you will, melodrama, teen angst, but I can’t stop this... and maybe a part of me is like you now. I’m preoccupied with my own suffering, and I’m afraid my heart may be like that forever... empty.” Thomas wiped the sweat from his brow, what right did he have to say such things. Corey was, after all, absolutely unaware of origin of his anger. He wasn’t being fair... he felt this cold urgency to hurt him with his words. To make him feel the way he had left him feel that fateful night and every night thereafter... but it was wrong. Guilt is an ugly emotion, and no sooner than the next breath passed, it had set in. “I’m sorry. I- shouldn’t have said those things. I didn’t mean them.”
Corey, immediately forgiving, touched Thomas’ hand, “I know...”
They shared a gentle stare, and then Corey laid his head on Thomas’ shoulder, wrapping himself around his arm, “But, you’ll always have me.” He promised.
Thomas laughed sheepishly “I will?”
“Yes. You will. I’ll always be your friend. No matter what happens, you’ll never really be alone. Isn’t that our worst fear, being alone? Well, I’m right down the street... literally.” Corey giggled. He enjoyed being this close to Thomas. It filled him with an inexplicable comfort.
Thomas detected the fragrance he wore. It was mild, yet lingering. To have Corey this near... to have him embrace him, it sent him soaring. Frivolously, he pretended that they were together. That his expressed affection was more than just platonic. It felt like that everything he was, everything that could be, every thought, every day dream, every hope, and every prayer had been fulfilled. This was they way things should be. They fit each other like they had been tailored for unity.
“Did you miss me?” Corey asked quietly.
Thomas looked at him, “Did I miss you?” He reiterated.
Corey remained glued to his side, “Yeah. Did you miss me? If you didn’t miss me I’d feel disposable. Like it wouldn’t matter to you if I disappeared from the face if the planet. If you missed me it would show that our friendship meant something to you and you’d notice I was gone.”
Thomas had so many words on the verge of spilling from his mouth. The passage linking his thought processes to his vocal cords was open and flooding. He should tell him. He should just let it all come out. Tell him how much he cared him, how he needed to be with him. He would take care of him, and never hurt him, or make him regret loving him in return. He would give his last breath for the opportunity to love him. “Yeah... I missed you,” he said. Though he had the means to tell Corey, he didn’t. He couldn’t.
Corey gave him a hardy squeeze, pleased by his admission, “I missed you too.” He sat up from Thomas’s arm, gunning with joy, “What are you doing today?” Corey gripped his hand.
Thomas could see his anticipation, “Nothing, why?”
“Let’s do something. We could go take a walk on the beach, or hang out on the abandoned docks. I don’t have to be anywhere for awhile, so we’d have the entire day together.”
Thomas supplied only a dry glance.
Corey was put off by his supposed need to think about his suggestion, “We don’t have to. It was just an idea.” Corey stood up from the bench and started down the sidewalk, He turned to Thomas once, “It was nice seeing you again. Don’t stay a stranger, okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer, before he continued on.
Thomas watched him get smaller and smaller as the distance between them grew. He couldn’t have gone with him. It would be intolerable to have him so close, yet so far away. He knew if he were to spend any time with Corey, he would say something out of line. He would spew an unwelcome comment, or make an unconscious gesture pertaining to his unspoken devotion. He would make an ass out of himself, and Corey would be reluctant to spend time with him again. He was best kept at bay. Here he could enjoy him, and not worry about interfering with his affairs, or challenging them. He could still love him, only with discretion.
Fireworks flew high into the black sky, exploding into huge balls of fire, and colorful streams that seemed to dance as they fell all the way down into the dark harbor along the ocean. Rachel and Gabe sat on the sand. The surf would rush toward their feet, then just before reaching them, it would retreat. His arms were wrapped around her from behind, his fingers clasped under her bosom. Their faces would light up with every burst of sparks, and Rachel would jolt at the ground shaking boom that would inevitably follow.
This was a tradition for them. Sitting on the crowded beach with the many other spectators. They had been doing it for so long that Rachel could easily recall the past Forth of July, and the one before that, and the one before that. It wasn’t just a holiday; it was an opportunity to revel in all that they had shared. A chance to look back and see how far they’d come since the year before. They had sat near this very same spot, it was just after Gabe had taken the Little Giants to the championships and won by scoring the final touchdown. People were approaching them on the beach congratulating him; young, giddy elementary school girls would flirt and blow him kisses. Rachel’s hair was a bit shorter then. She had fallen asleep chewing bubble gum and somehow, during the night, it slid out of her mouth and she proceeded to role around in it. She woke up the next day with her head stuck to the pillow. When she sat up, gooey, matted strands of hair clung to her face and the pillow sat up with her. She remembered how mortified she was when she had to walk downstairs toting a pillow on her head. She was in such a panic that she hadn’t though to actually remove the pillow from it cloth casing. She ran into her mother’s room, looking something like a creature from a comic book. He mother had to cut it from her head. Rachel wept as she watched clods of her precious hair fall to the floor as her mother snipped away.
“What have I told you about chewing gum in bed?” Her mother had groaned.
Through sharp gasps and drawn out wails, Rachel replied, “You - said - I - would choke. But I didn’t choke Mom. It came out of my mouth in the middle of the night and glued me to my bed!” She cried.
Her mother was on the verge of laughter but refrained as not to mock her daughter, “Well you’re lucky you didn’t choke!” That was the first time she had ever really had more than a trim. Gabe hated it and she knew it, though he never would have said so. He evaded the subject. When she would ask his opinion, it was always the same. “It’s cute.” His answer would never vary. “It’s cute.” A hamster is cute. A baby is cute. She loved him anyway. He was thoughtful enough to spare her feelings, and that even made her love him more.
This year, so far, had been plenty eventful. They had their “almost” break-up. Corey had been introduced into her life, and was her new best friend. She had sex for the very first time. She had discovered her femininity, a womanhood that she was still getting used to, and was anticipating her first semester at NYU. There was still so much ahead for her, and while she would take it all in stride, she knew that her life would take new directions and she may find herself in a place that she hadn’t necessarily set out for. She was on the brink of being a full blown grown-up. One of Them. A life full of demands and responsibilities. She would welcome it. It would be a satisfying change. It wasn’t like she would leave it all behind. She would still have Gabe. She would have Corey, and Angie. Her mother and father. She would come back to Sadie, and everyone around her would witness her evolution.
Next summer, she hoped to be sitting on this same beach with these same arms protecting her. Then she would look back on this very moment, only then, she would be looking at it from another place. Another frame of mind. She would have a new life, with new opinions and views. She would be exposed to so much o
ver the next year, and while she new that change was imminent, she hoped that she would still remain herself, understanding, open, and in love.
Corey took a neon blue necklace from the concession stand. He handed the clerk two dollars and began to snap it around his neck. Angie stood next to him. She was waiting for the next explosion from the launching displays above. She hated them. It made her skin crawl. She knew it was nothing, but the overpowering blast made her feel like she was at the center of a crossfire. She didn’t like the way it felt, vibrating through her body and everything around her. She looked at Corey who was having a hard time latching his new necklace, “It’s the turn of the century. We have trips to mars, and cures for diseases... can’t they come up with a quiet firework?” She complained.
Corey laughed, “That’s part of the fun. The noise is part of the celebration. It wouldn’t be the same if there were no booms!”
Angie saw he still had not properly latched his necklace. She pushed his hair over his shoulder and began to help him, but the joint was so small, she had to wrestle to hook it. “They have fireworks like this in California?”
“Yeah, they do. Only in San Francisco they launch them over the bay bridge, over the water like they do here. The finale is something awesome. A steady spray of sparks comes cascading from the rails of the bridge and they fall into the water. It looks like a waterfall of fire. It’s amazing,” he explained. Just then, another magnificent, thunderous blast.
BOOM! Angie jumped, her face tightening with fear. She looked upward in terror, not realizing she was pulling so hard on Corey’s necklace that she was strangling him. He was mouthing silent words and pulling forward, but Angie was staring out of the ocean skies, searching for the reward. That firework must’ve been enormous. She looked back at Corey who was gripping the necklace with his fingers, trying to breath. “Oh my God! I’m sorry, Corey. That one really freaked me out,” She apologized.
Corey inhaled deeply. His face was a bright shade of red. He turned to her with a shocked expression as Angie pushed down one corner of her mouth, “Sorry,” she whimpered again.
He snatched the necklace from her hands and began to try again as he started away. Angie followed close behind him. Their feet sunk into the dry sand as they wrestled their way through the crowd.
She saw the necklace was still giving him trouble, “Let me do it.” She exclaimed.
He darted away from her, his voice sweet and well meaning, “THAT’S OKAY!” He said, “I got it, Angie! I can do it. Thanks.”
They situated themselves on a thin blanket. After finally winning the battle with his necklace, Corey stretched out, looking at all the unfamiliar faces, “I didn’t think this many people lived in Sadie.”
Angie pulled her legs underneath her, “They don’t. Some come from Crawford County, way out in the boonies. They don’t have their own shows over there, so they all come here. Where’s Rachel, anyway?”
Corey tossed his head from side to side, “She had to meet lover boy. They were spending the Fourth together. She said they did it every year. Personally, I think the guys a loser,” Corey stated in disgust.
Angie’s rolled her eyes, “He is.”
Corey dug his hand into the sand, “I’ve never met him. Rachel said he’s scared of me because I’m gay. That right there tells me that he’s probably one of those jock meatheads with an ego the size of an air balloon. Probably afraid I’ll hit on him. That makes me want to puke. You wouldn’t believe how many guys are intimidated by gay men because they think we’ll make a pass at them. How stupid is that? He must think he’s the best of his gender... to assume that I’d take a liking to him. I don’t even know the guy and he still repulses me,” Corey made a funny shape with his mouth, like he’d just eaten a rotten grape.
Angie had to bite her tongue to keep from talking. She spoke through her pursed lips, “If you only knew,” she hushed.
“What?” Corey asked, involved in making a hill of sand to destroy.
“I didn’t say anything,” She lied.
“Have you met Gabe?” Corey questioned.
“Yes.... actually I have,” she answered, growing visibly uncomfortable with the subject.
“What does he look like?” Corey investigated.
Angie swallowed with an audible gulp, “Well, uh... he’s not all that great. Kind of reminds me of Barney Rubble, You know, the short funny looking guy from the Flintstones?”
Corey howled with amusement, “Barney Rubble? He does not! No way! I’m serious, I want to know what he looks like so I’ll know who he is if I ever see him.”
Angie spread her hands open and began patting her palms together, looking up at the sky, “You know... there was probably so much more to the Flintstones than you or I could ever imagine.”
Corey arched his neck and raised his shoulders. “Come again?”
“You know, it all seemed so wholesome and perfect. Fred came home to Wilma every day; she had lunch on the table. Barney came home to Betty... Wilma and Betty were best friends, but neither of them could’ve suspected what was really going on. Sure, Wilma and Betty were friends, but there were times when Fred would leave early from the rock quarry and pay a congenial visit to Betty,” She lowered her head and glared up at him ominously, “You know what I mean?”
“No,” Corey shot blankly. She had lost her mind.
Agitated, Angie leaned in, “Betty and Fred were carrying on! Wilma never knew the difference. She never suspected a thing. She loved him to death, but all along…” Her voice grew grim, “He was with her best friend.”
Corey just peered at her through eyes of pity.
Angie smacked his leg, “Don’t you get it? Even though Wilma loved him, he still cavorted with Betty. Even Betty loved him. They both did. Betty thought the world of Fred, but he belonged to Wilma. Fred was cheating on Wilma with her best friend! He was scum. Lower than scum, he was scum on the belly of scum. Wilma needs to know what Fred is doing, but it would kill her because she loves him so much. Then there’s the little paperboy. The one who always threw the paper at Fred, remember? It would knock him down. That paperboy knew what Fred was doing and he hated him for it, but the boy never told because he knew he would be the one who would lose out. Wilma would cancel her subscription so he kept quiet, even though he liked Wilma, but he knew she was happy with Fred and he didn’t want to take that away from her, even though the bastard didn’t deserve her. You follow what I’m saying?” Angie spoke with the zeal of a great philosopher.
Corey took her hand and gazed at her lovingly, “Honey... I love you... I need you to listen to me very carefully, okay? No more cartoons,” He demanded seriously, “No more.”
Angie sighed exasperated. She so desperately wanted to tell him what had been eating at her for so long. The knowledge seemed to gnaw at her from the inside, damning her for hiding it away. How she wished it would disappear. How come the things we want to forget stay on the forefront of our mind, but, more so than not, the instances that we wish to remember appear to vanish, as if they never existed at all?
Corey hugged his arms over his narrow chest as he pulled up his knees. He watched as the white crests of the serene waves crashed upon the shore. A conscious breeze blew over him, giving him its silent approval, “I saw Thomas the other day.” It could have only been a thought, but he said it aloud with the reverence of someone who was alone, unaware that anyone would hear.
Angie could see it in his face. That far away stare, the sparkle in his dark eyes that glowed with the slightest tilt of his head. There was something there.
“What did he say?”
He didn’t move, didn’t look at her. He kept perfectly still, being consumed by his emotions, “Nothing,” he whispered sadly. “Nothing really. I don’t think he really likes me very much anymore. It’s so strange how things are. I sat with him for only a short while. He told me how someone broke his heart, but how he still loved him... and I was... jealous.” For a brief
passing moment, Corey jumped out of his fixation to absolve himself, “I know it’s stupid, me being jealous and all.” Then as if the place he were in was to precious to leave, he fell back in, growing more remote, “It’s just, he spoke so sincerely. I watched his face, and he was so... sad.”
Angie was focused on him, wanting to partake of his dream. What she wouldn’t give for just a piece of what made him so smitten, “You like him...” she concluded, as if it wasn’t obvious.
Corey met her with a stunned expression, as if realizing how right she was. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t like another guy. He was with Chris. That would be wrong. “I- I don’t like him. He’s just a friend, that’s all. That’s it. I just admire the truth in what he feels. It was all so real. Thomas doesn’t even know me. We have fun when we’re together but he really doesn’t seem to care whether I’m there or not. I asked him if he wanted to do something together and he just stared at me like I was crazy to presume that he would want to spend the day with me. He didn’t say a word, so I just walked away.”
Angie was still taken in by his words. She wanted to be him, “But you do... You like that guy.”
Corey didn’t answer. He was listening to the water before him. How it shifted around, churning so gracefully. Perhaps if he listened carefully enough he could hear it whispering to him. There did seem to be an order to this chaos. Just then, another ball of fire filled the sky. Red, so red. It burst open like a flower, and the petals careened downward until it eventually dissipated, leaving behind only a bright white cloud. The only reminder that it was ever there. A picture so exquisite that it was only to grace his eyes for a fleeting moment.
Angie crawled over beside him, pushing his hair over his shoulder, studying his expression, “I think you should leave Chris... search somewhere else for what’s important to you. For love.”
He glanced at her surprised, “What are you talking about? I can’t break up with Chris. Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for someone to feel about me the way he does? I don’t just take things like that for granted. Who’s to say anyone else will ever care about me like he does again? That would be foolish of me to disregard something that I’ve always wanted for nothing. Things like that don’t just happen to me; no one ever falls in love with me. It’s always me who falls, and it’s always me who suffers while they pursue someone else. I’ve spent my entire life watching-“
Angie held up her hand quickly, stopping him. “Stop. Just stop.” She had listened to him embark on these tangents before, and whether he realized it or not, it was untrue. Even if he didn’t know it, she did.
He was surprised by the suddenness in her voice. “Well, it’s the truth.”
She didn’t say anything in response, only gazed off.
“Look, I don’t expect you to be able to understand anything much relating to the concept of being gay, and I recognize the fact that before I arrived the only reference you people here may have had is from an episode of Jerry Springer, but I’m not the quintessential homosexual as defined by social terms.”
Angie shook her head, “you’re right. I don’t understand.”
“Look at me,” he said. “The long hair, little body, pale… I don’t fit the mold, or what gay people, in general, have imposed as acceptable.”
“Gay people don’t accept you?” She wrinkled her nose.
“Some don’t. Listen, it’s no big secret that I have overtly feminine qualities. The way I talk or laugh, the way I dress. A lot of gay men are offended by that, just as much as straight men. It’s like you can be gay, that’s fine, but just don’t be feminine, don’t look gay or allow anybody an inclination that you might be. A lot of gay men are straight looking, straight acting gym bunnies who want other muscle laden, straight acting jocks. I can’t be that.” He pulled his hands into the sleeves of his shirt, “I don’t mean I dislike myself, and I realize it’s a personal trespass to say this… but I would be that if I could be that, just to make it a little easier. Just to fit… somewhere.”
Angie began to understand, and the notion troubled her. “But, you’re beautiful.”
He offered a polite snicker through his nose. “Beauty doesn’t cut it. Handsome is the key word. Boyish. I’m neither of those things. I wasn’t out there in the real world, and I’m not here in Sadie.” After a moment of quiet deliberation, he cast away the dampening feeling overwhelming him, “But straight men and lesbians take a shine to me!” He smiled now.
Angie hung her head. She could feel her insides trembling, “Where is he tonight?”
“Who?”
Her eyes widened, “Sorry, I went off topic. Chris, I mean. Where is he?”
Corey pushed back the hair from his face, leaning forward, laying his head on his knees, “Spending the holiday with his family. They were going out of town.”
She could tell he was disappointed. She was quiet. She knew he wasn’t with his family. He was with Rachel. Asshole.
Suddenly, she was distracted by a loud giggle. One she recognized. She peered through the crowd behind them and wheezed loudly when she saw Gabe and Rachel only a few feet behind them.
Holding hands, they kissed each other. Corey immediately noticed Angie’s despair, “What are you looking at?” He asked as he began to turn to see.
“NOTHING!” Angie screeched as she grabbed his face in her hands, preventing him from seeing them, “LOOK AT ME! Look at my face! Do you think I’m pretty?”
Corey laughed. He could see that she was keeping him from something, “You’re fine. Now let me go!”
“There’s nothing there! It’s just people!” She jumped on top of him, knocking him over, “Hold me incase I hear another big boom. I’m such a chicken! I know, but if I’m close I won’t be so scared! Let’s sing!” She bellowed as she rolled on top of him singing excruciatingly loud, “KARMA, KARMA, KARMA CHAMELEON, YOU COME AND GO! YOU COME AND GO!”
Gabe held Rachel’s shoulders as he looked into her eyes, “You have to come and visit me at school, and on the weekends, I can come to New York.”
Rachel nodded, “Yeah. If we do this right, it won’t even seem like we’re apart. We can be together all of the time.” She heard the distant cries of a girl singing. It was an awful voice, sounding more like an animal in heat, “My God! Who is that singing?” She asked, scanning around the crowd.
Gabe glanced around, “They could use voice lesson’s, that’s for sure.” Then he saw them. Corey and Angie rolling in the sand. Angie sat on top of him, holding his face in her firm grip. She looked directly at Gabe, her eyes wide as saucers.
“It sounds like Angie!” Rachel observed, standing up, taking a step toward the ruckus.
Gabe’s face filled with terror. He grabbed Rachel’s arms, and like a rag doll, flung her backward into him, “Let’s go somewhere!”
Rachel gave him a curious look, “What are you doing, Gabe? Let me go, you’re hurting my arm.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” he said, and he threw his arms around her slamming her into his body. Holding her face into his armpit tightly.
“KARMA, KARMA, KARMA, KARMA CHAMELEON! That’s Boy George, you know who he is? He’s gay and He’s not a muscle jockey.” Angie barked as she sat on his chest, squashing his face between her hands. She was out of breath from the struggle.
He met her with a dead stare as they stopped wrestling, “Angie, I have no idea what just crawled up your ass, but please, GET OFF OF ME!”
Angie stood up off of him, “Sorry, I just had to get some energy out of my system,” she lied.
Corey staggered to his feet, massaging his red cheeks that were imprinted with her finger marks, “Well I hope you’re done!” He scolded.
Angie began picking up the sheet from the sand, “Yeah, I feel much better now. A lot more relaxed. I was all bound up, you know?”
“What are you doing, don’t pick up the sheet, we haven’t even seen the finale yet!” Corey objected.
Angie
continued pulling the sheet up into her arms, “We don’t have a finale here. Not like you’re used to seeing, it would be a waste of time to wait for something you can see any year. That’s why the have the forth of July every year, if you miss something one year, you can always come back the next. Besides, they’ll be a bunch of explosions and I’ll end up losing all of my hair from nerves. Let’s just go someplace quiet, we can have quiet fun,” she murmured rapidly.
Corey grabbed a corner of the sheet from her, trying to yank it from her arms, “Just give me the sheet, Angie. You can just cover your ears if the noise gets too loud.”
Angie hung onto it, refusing to give it up, “No, its okay. We can come back next year!”
They began tugging on it, each trying to gain control.
Corey was bewildered by her bizarre behavior, “Give me the sheet, Angie. I don’t want to wait until next year!”
“It’s all the same anyway; you’ll just be older next year. We’re leaving!” Angie spat.
“What’s the matter with you? I swear, if you don’t stop this right now I’ll have you committed somewhere!” Corey shot back.
“That’s what I need, I need to go somewhere! If we don’t leave here right now! I’ll have to leave here in a paddy wagon. I’ll go berserk.”
“You already have gone berserk! You’ve flipped out! You’re singing old Boy George songs and arguing with me over a sheet! Don’t make me smack you!”
Rachel beat on Gabe’s chest with her open hands. Finally she pried away, gasping for air, “What the hell are you doing?”
Gabe still held her arm, “I just wanted to be close, that’s all.”
“You tried to suffocate me! I couldn’t breathe in there!” She tried to pat down her tangled hair.
“I wore deodorant,” he said comfortingly.
She leered at him angrily, “What’s the matter with you?”
Gabe brought her close again. He could see her reservation, she didn’t want to go back into his pit, “Nothing’s wrong. Why don’t you go get us something to drink? I’ll wait right here, someone needs to watch our spot so no one steals it!” He dug into his pocket and handed her some money. She took it, but hesitated before finally storming away.
Angie jerked the corner of the sheet from Corey’s hands. She was a mental wreck, and it showed. Corey was covered in sand, his clothes wrinkled from the event, “All right, Angie. You win. If you want to leave, we’ll go.” He turned breathlessly and began heading right towards Gabe.
He saw him ducking behind a lifeguard stand. “Chris?” He came to a hard stop.
“NO! NOT THAT WAY!” From behind, Angie threw the sheet over his face. He pulled at it blindly as she and heaved him backward and he fell to the ground. “Oops,” Angie muttered as she moved around him.
Corey yanked the sheet from his face and spat out grains of sand that had gotten into his mouth. He jumped to his feet and began through the crowd toward the wooden stand. “I see you. I see you Chris! I know that is you!”
He was caught. Damn. He came out of his hiding place as Corey marched up to him furiously, “What are you doing here? I thought you said you were leaving?”
Gabe strained for a fast excuse, “Plans changed. I just thought I would come and catch the last of the show.”
“And you couldn’t call me. You knew I would be here. I told you I would be here with Angie!”
He turned to Angie who stood behind him, “Can you believe this?”
Gabe reached for his hand but Corey shunned him, “You know how things are, Corey. People don’t know about us! If I came here with you everyone would’ve seen.”
Time froze... everything around him hung in suspended animation. His heart rose into his throat, and he could not speak around it. There was nothing apologetic on Chris’s face, no indication that he even realized the severity of his words. He felt immediately ashamed; embarrassed that Chris had felt that way. His breath shook, like he had just fallen twenty stories and landed on his back. It hurt. So badly.
“So... you just didn’t want to be seen with me.” He swallowed hard. “I- I see. Well you should’ve just said so before,” He shrugged, trying to seem unaffected. “Instead of lying to me.” He pushed past him and began walking away as Gabe and Angie followed.
Gabe jumped in front of him, blocking his path, “That’s not it, Corey, come on! You know my situation. You know I can’t let people find out like this. I need time.”
Corey moved around him and continued walking. He had to escape. He refused to let him see him weaken. He didn’t want him to know how much it had impacted him. He was frantic to get away, almost panicked.
“What the hell, Corey! I’m doing the best I can. I would’ve come here with you but-“
Corey spun toward him angrily, “-But? But nothing. You wouldn’t have come here with me, you’ll never go anywhere with me. We leave for school in a month, and you probably never planned to be seen with me.”
They shared a tumultuous stare. Gabe didn’t say a word in defense of himself. “You’re ashamed of me, aren’t you?” Corey asked heartbroken. Gabe didn’t reply. “That’s it. You think I would bring you shame if you let people see me with you. Even if we’re just sitting next to each other, you’d be looking to see if anyone was laughing at you for being with me.” Corey’s voice began to crack as he withheld his tears.
Gabe was helpless. He couldn’t find any words to comfort Corey. He wanted to hold him, but he knew he would pull away once again.
“You’re ashamed of me,” Corey accused, he turned and began away again, “I should’ve known! How could I be so stupid?”
Gabe and Angie followed him up the banks onto the boardwalk. Gabe was numb; “Corey, I’m not ashamed of you. I’m ashamed of myself, I shouldn’t have lied, but I was just afraid that it was too soon. I’m not ready to come out like that yet, it doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”
Behind Gabe, Angie rolled her eyes in disgust, “You don’t know what love is,” She condemned.
Gabe turned to her, “Shut up.”
Angie threw he sheet at his face. He pulled it off and ran after Corey who had made his way to Angie’s old, rusted Toyota.
Gabe grabbed his arm and made him face him, “I fucked up, okay! I’m an asshole.”
“That’s for sure,” Angie offered as she appeared beside him, moving to the other side of the car.
Gabe ignored her, “Don’t leave like this.”
Corey opened the car door as Angie started the engine, “Let me go.”
“No. Not until you forgive me. Not until you understand that it’s nothing against you. It’s me. There’s still so much you don’t know.”
Inside the car, Angie let out an inaudible guffaw. This made her sick.
Corey had lost himself to his sorrow. The tears fell over his pale cheeks, “Let me go, Chris. Before I say something that we’ll both regret. Go and enjoy the rest of the show.”
“How can I do anything when I know I hurt you?”
“You did it knowing that you would hurt me.” Corey pulled away, his face burned with rage. “You can be ashamed... but you will not make me live like I have to be ashamed too.” He got into the car. Angie sped away as Gabe watched the taillights fade into the darkness. Another massive explosion shook him. He was gone. He had ruined it. He collapsed to his knees with grief.
Corey stared out the window as they drove through town. It was all so empty. Not a soul in sight. Everyone was at the show. How did he get here? How did he get to this era of life where he was so vulnerable to another person’s cruelty? Chris had never really loved him. He couldn’t have. There was no shame in real love. He was ashamed of him. He hated him so much. He hated himself for being so naive. It was all too good to be true. To think that someone might actually like him, maybe even love him was just plain audacious. He had tried to fight fate. Beat the odds, but the last inkling of hope that he fed on had now vanished.
He
watched as the trees and houses along the street swept past the moving car. Sadie... Secrets and lies. Little lives in some obsolete place, untouched by the world at large. He hated this place. With it’s cardboard exterior and repetitive manner of existence. All so predicable; so quaintly inane. He was a fish out of water here too. A terrible fit.
Angie knew she had to say something. She couldn’t just let him sit there, mourning. She was at a loss for words. She knew she had to say something smart, but consoling. She had to be sympathetic, yet supportive. She thought good and hard. What would be appropriate for the moment?
“So, wanna do this again next year?” She bubbled, breaking the deafening peace that was about to drive her over the edge. She slapped herself in the forehead. That was a stupid thing to say. Of course he didn’t want to go through any of this again. Neither did she. Seeing him like this was poisoning her. She was used to seeing him happy and outgoing, not sullen and withdrawn.
He raised his head from the window, “Sure.”
“You want to listen to the radio?” Angie asked, flipping on the power. It came on loud, filling the car with Tammy Wynette’s superb voice singing Stand By Your Man. Angie turned the tuner, “There’s got to be something else on,” She hummed, trying to keep the atmosphere upbeat. Another station came in clear, an oldies station: The Supremes, STOP! In the name of love. Angie grew irritated, quickly changing the dial. Another station. Dolly Parton: “I will always love you.” Angie flipped it off feeling rather sorry for the botched attempt. What was so great about love? All of these singers wailing about their loves. Why didn’t they sing about something else? There were millions of topics that were far more original that the old, worn out love songs. Damn radio! That was probably the reason most lovers went mad. Trying to recuperate from a tragedy, they go home depressed to their rooms and flip on their radios only to have their episode rubbed in their faces over and over again through lyric. That’s sick. Aren’t there any happy lovers out there? Is love really just a disease that doesn’t discriminate? Maybe it’s a natural evil, the mind’s way of punishing us. You are ecstatic when it all starts, but when it ends, you’re under emotional terrorism.
“Don’t let it get to you, Corey. Chris is really not worth it. He has several issues that would have eventually ruined the relationship anyway. This is for the best, trust me,” Angie said, filling the gaps of silence that still remained.
Corey glanced over at her, wiping his weary eye, “It’s not Chris, Angie. This really has nothing to do with him. It’s all about me. He basically played his part; he did what did what he was supposed to do. This was the way I knew it would be. I’m just... not meant to be loved. It’s just not in my cards. Chris was just a pawn in the universal game of destiny. I’m always allowed to get so close to the real thing, and then it’s pulled away. I have no one to blame but myself. I did it to myself. I fell for the bait and I thought that maybe I didn’t have to be alone, then once again, it’s proven to me, as it has been before, I am unlovable.” He laid his head back against the cool glass window.
Angie slowed to a stop in front of Corey’s dark house, “You’re seventeen years old, Corey. To think you’re not able to be loved now is a little premature. There’s nice guys out there... and girls, who will meet you, and fall for you just the way others have.”
Corey sniffled, “Yeah? You see, that’s the thing, people who fall for me are either unable to really be with me in a real relationship, or it’s someone who hiding from it. Ashamed. I know I’m young, but in my life, my love life, I’ve been shown that’s it just not there. It’s not going to happen. On the outside I seem young, but inside... Inside I’m already old. I feel old and tired. It’s like I know how things are, but I just refused to accept it. Maybe I set my standards to high. I don’t know. I’m always waiting for the man of my dreams to step out of the shadows and sweep me off of my feet. I’m waiting to be carried away. I want the fairy tale. Cinderella and Snow White, they were young, and it all played out for them. Love found them, and they lived happily ever after... but it won’t find me. I’m invisible to love.”
Angie leaned against her door, listening carefully to his examinations, “Cinderella had a wicked stepmother, and her only friends were three little mice that spoke to her. Sleeping Beauty had a curse put on her by an evil witch, and was put to sleep by a spindle. Those aren’t fairy tales to live by, Corey.”
Corey moved toward her, speaking passionately, “But you see, that’s just it. They were saved. A man came from the shadows and saved them from their doom. Those Princes fought for their love, they stood up to their fears and defeated them because their love was true. You see it everywhere, in those old musicals. Judy Garland was in love with the boy next door for so long before he finally noticed her. They sang to each other about their feelings, and in the end they were married. Everyone always finds their one love and walks off into the sunset. Everybody’s happy. Except me.”
Angie grabbed his arm, stopping him, “Corey, that’s all fantasy... that isn’t real life. It’s all about love over dramatized. You can’t wait for something like that because it’s unrealistic. There is no such thing as a Prince Charming. You have to let go of all of the shit that’s clouding your brain and open your eyes. Look around you; it’s not the end of the world if a man doesn’t sing to you, or if a Knight doesn’t come out of the shadows to rescue you from your sadness. Look at me; do you think I’m ever going to find a guy who wants a chubby little girlfriend? No. If I ever got to excited and hugged him, I’d squish him like an ant.”
Corey let out a muffled giggle, “That’s not true.”
“You’re right. It’s not,” Angie advised, “You were just so busy hocking bullshit, I figured what the hey, I’ll join in.”
“Bullshit?”
“Sometimes it’s as if love is a planet and you revolve around it, totally unaware of yourself. It’s the beginning and the end for you... of you. You can go on and on for hours about how terrible it is to be cursed, how you’re certain to grow old alone, prophesizing a bleak future of hopelessness.”
“I do not.”
“Yes. Yes, you do... and while I’m sure you’re destined to live some hyper-romanticized, Hollywood musical existence, just because it’s not happening now- yet- you’re consumed by the fact and you live and breathe self-“ She stopped.
“Self what? Self pity?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You were going to, though. You were going to say it.”
“Self pity, self loathing, I mean pick a self-referential.” She looked at him apologetically, but didn’t continue.
“I like love.” He said with certainty.
“Who doesn’t?”
“It’s my muse.”
“It’s your obsession, Corey.” Angie asserted.
“No. No, I guess I’m just-“ He stared hard at the dash, exploring his thoughts which were coming fast but made little sense to him. “I’m in love with love. It’s my greatest curiosity. I want to see it, experience it in its most raw form, understand it... I write about love, hear stories about it everywhere... I don’t even know what it is. I just want it to happen to me.”
Angie rested her hands in her lap, “There is no difference between me and you, besides the fact that I’m simply willing to be loved by another, not waiting for a man on a horse to convince me that I can be.” Angie took him into her arms; soaking him in, secretly wishing the moment would shake him, show him how she felt without her having to say it. She knew it wouldn’t. It was a fantasy of her own, “If it’s any consolation, I love you. I always will.” Though her admission was vague, it felt good to say it knowing he could hear it.
Corey caressed her hair as he kissed her cheek, still folded in her embrace, “I love you too, Angie. If things were any different, I would’ve already found my lost love. I would pick you. I’m so glad I have you.”
“Really?”
Corey leaned back, still holding her han
ds, “We’re two of a kind, you and me. Of all the things I know, no matter what happens to me, or who happens... I’ll always have you.” Smiling, he opened his door and stepped out onto the grass along the curb, he looked in at her, “We’ll do this again next year, and the year after that, and the year after that, deal?”
Angie was overwhelmed, tiny pools of salty tears crept over her lashes as she tried to keep her chin from quivering, “Deal,” She agreed, staring out at him.
“Night,” he said closing the door.
“Good night,” Angie offered quietly, even though he couldn’t hear her. She pulled the car into gear, tears rolling down her lashes, dripping into her lap as she pulled away, overjoyed.
Corey watched her drive away. He waited until she disappeared around the corner before turning toward his house. He had never had a friend as close to his heart as Angie had become. She genuinely care for him, he could see that. He thought back to all of the people he had known back home. They were all kind, and considerate of him. In school, it seemed to be more of a social circumstance than a true friendship, unlike the one he shared with Angie. All of his friendships back in California paled in comparison to his friendship with her. What he actually believed to be true friends were merely acquaintances, a simple exchange of common kindness. What he and Angie had was the honest definition of a friend. A real friend. How rare that was. Sadly rare and so precious.
He strolled up the walkway toward his porch when he was jostled by a loud, high pitched whistling noise that sailed into the air, and ended with a modest crackle, then fizzle. He saw the smoke trailing up from a few doors down, hidden behind the lush Pines that separated the yards. Someone was having their own fireworks display right there on Harrington. His curiosity got the best of him, as it usually did, and he walked out of his yard onto the sidewalk. He stepped slowly toward the whistling, as one by one, sparks spiraled into the sky.
He glanced through the dark windows of each house as he passed before entering the shadows of the vibrant border foliage, breaking once again into the light of the street lamps that had laid in circular patterns upon the ground. As he passed another cluster of trees, he came to the edge of Thomas’s yard. He stopped when he saw him sitting on the steps of his front porch. Between his legs sat a small plastic bottle, with a long, thin rocket pointing upwards inside.
Corey watched as he lit the wick and held it upward. It shot into the air screaming, and then exploded. He grinned to himself as he called out, “Having fun?”
Thomas looked up from his bottle. He couldn’t see Corey’s face, only a black silhouette surrounded by dim light from the street lamp. He appeared to be glowing. A vision.
He slowly came into view as he walked up the lawn, stopping a few feet in front of Thomas. “I heard your rockets. I wasn’t sure if it was you or not.” Corey said, putting his hands into his pockets, shrugging his shoulders, unsure if he was really welcome.
Thomas forced his attention back to his project, reloading the bottle with another firework, “Yep... it’s me, just having a celebration of my own.”
Corey watched him work, as Thomas flicked his lighter trying to keep a steady flame, “You missed the big show. The one at the beach, they were beautiful.”
It took everything Thomas had to pretend he was uncaring, “I told you before, I never go to those things.”
“Why not?”
Thomas lit the wick, but it died before igniting completely, “I’ve seen them before. It’s nothing new. It’s the same old show every year. I’m not one for monotony,” he explained, still trying to strike his lighter.
Corey moved toward Thomas and sat next to him, “Well, it wasn’t all that great anyway.” He cupped his hands around Thomas’ in an effort to assist with blocking the random gusts.
Thomas froze; his hands were soft and warm. For a fleeting moment he was frightened, but quickly he settled into that feeling... that strange, beautiful feeling. He looked up to Corey, just inches away, who offered a polite smile. He struck the lighter one final time and it began to burn, illuminating their faces. He hesitated for a moment before sending the rocket airborne. It whistled and then cracked somewhere above. They both glanced up trying to see where it blew, but there was only a trail of white smoke descending.
“You go with your boyfriend? To the fireworks, I mean?” Thomas inquired, attempting to busy himself elsewhere. He got another rocket from the package. His last one.
Corey stared at the house across the street. A huge American Flag swayed from a pillar on Lola Collier’s porch. He had overheard Angie’s friends, the three stooges, talking about her. She was allegedly a murderess; Beheaded her husband with a hatchet, then claimed insanity and walked away unscathed. He thought it odd how in the midst of this seemingly perfect world of Sadie, a little taste of the horrors of the outside world could creep in and survive.
“Corey?” Thomas summoned him from his thoughts.
“Oh, sorry. I went with a friend. Chris said he was going away with his family tonight, but when I was there, I conveniently ran into him. He had gone by himself.” Corey didn’t mind telling Thomas. After all, now they were both victims of broken hearts.
Thomas propped up the rocket stem along the mouthpiece of the bottle, “Really, why is that?” He didn’t want to sound like he really gave a shit; he didn’t want Corey to see through his thin veil of false indifference.
Corey folded his hands under his chin, “He was afraid people would see us together. He’s not told anyone about the way he really is... he’s ashamed of me, ashamed of liking me the way he does,” He cleared his throat, trying not to let his heart override his self-control.
Thomas stopped toying with his fireworks. He knew that Corey was hurting. He glared at him and saw he was distant, deep in his mind, perhaps, analyzing the past events. “It’s like you told me, right? You have to forget about him. It’s his loss, not yours.”
Corey stood up angst ridden, “How can you say that? It is my loss, Thomas. That’s it. It’s my loss, no one else’s. It’s always my loss. I’m the one left behind. I’m the one who loses because I thought that maybe, just this once, things could work for me. I thought I found someone who cared, but if he had he wouldn’t have been ashamed of me. I believed that someone finally liked me, and I was wrong. He hasn’t lost out on anything; he can have whoever he wishes whenever he chooses. I’m still alone,” Corey argued, “I’m going in circles, you don’t care about any of this. I’m sorry.”
“Why do think that way? Just because you put your faith in the wrong guy doesn’t mean you have to be alone. For Christ’s sake, Corey, let it go and move on. Practice what you preach. There are other guys out there. It’s a big world. Plenty of fish in the sea, blah blah blah...” Thomas sighed with frustration.
Corey pushed his hands through his thick, dark mane, and with evident disappointment said, “Forget it. You don’t understand.”
“Understand what? You got burned by some closet case, so what? You act like it was your last chance at love. If the guy really cared about you, he wouldn’t be ashamed. There’s no shame in love. Never.”
Corey began walking away from him, “I should go. It’s late.”
Thomas stood and began to follow, “Be honest with yourself, Corey. The reason you’re so hurt is because it didn’t happen the way you expected it should. You have all of these great expectations for love and when it doesn’t happen just like you think it should, you’re crushed, you throw away all of your hope and just give up. That’s weak, Corey, and you’re not weak.”
Corey turned to him, “You know what bothers me the most? He was ashamed... of me. Ashamed to be seen with me. I didn’t pressure him, or make any demands. I gave up all of my great expectation for him. He was just there for me and I thought that was enough. That was all I needed. I knew he was hiding the fact that he was gay, and I didn’t care because I thought that eventually he would see that I was worth telling people, I wanted him to see he di
dn’t have to be embarrassed for liking me... but he was... he was and...”
“...And he was the wrong guy. He was just the wrong one.” Thomas put it quite simply.
Corey turned back away and continued down the sidewalk, “Yeah, well they all seem to be wrong.”
Thomas still pursued him, “Like you’re all that experienced. You’re so fucking dramatic. You talk about all of those guys who betrayed you, like you’ve lived a thousand lifetimes... who are all these guys?”
“Like Jason. I would’ve done anything for him, but he didn’t want me, even if he did, he couldn’t say it. Maybe I even shamed him. I shame everyone. I should just tattoo “Loser” across my face so everyone knows not to come to close. My curse might rub off on them,” Corey ranted. “And I am not dramatic.” He shot as an afterthought.
“Okay, Jason. Who else?”
Corey paused, spinning, “There was nobody else. Don’t you see... that’s just it... Romance avoids me like I’m the plague. It’s afraid to invest in me because it knows that I’m marked for a life alone.”
“I don’t think you are.”
“You don’t?”
“Listen to yourself. It’s almost sick. You are a drama Queen.”
Corey twirled back to him, “Oh, screw you. I am not.”
“You are. You really are. If your heart wasn’t breaking what the hell would you have to live for? What would your day consist of? What would you possibly have to talk about? I bet the last few conversations you’ve had have consisted solely of this;” He pursed his lips mockingly, “I’m alone, nobody loves me, I’m forever unloved, no one will ever love me, I’m so unlucky, why does this happen to me, poor, poor pitiful me, the fates are against me, I’m cursed, I feel so sorry for myself I could send myself a sympathy card.” He shook his head in disbelief.
Corey huffed in protest... “That is not true.” And then he thought about it... it was true. That’s exactly how he sounded, and the very focus of his conversation with Angie just that evening. His face filled with horror, he WAS a drama queen. “Oh my God.” His shoulders fell, he was defeated.
Thomas frowned apologetically, “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I was just...”
“You’re right. I hate it, but you... I had this conversation once tonight. She was right. You’re right.” Having for once heard himself he hung his head with embarrassment. How could he not have noticed this before?
“I don’t mean to offend you, but what’s the deal with it. Do you think it’s exceedingly romantic that you walk around with this self-imposed broken heart? Is that really necessary, I mean, to make that the complete sum of you, do you think that’s the only thing that makes you interesting, to be lovelorn forever?”
“I didn’t realize I was like that.”
“Aren’t you ever happy?”
Corey thought quietly. “I am happy.”
“And what? It’s against your religion to show it once in a while?”
“I do show it!” He argued.
“When have you shown it? When was the last time you were happy?”
“When I was with you I was happy.” The air became still. He felt the color flush from his face, “I mean that I expressed happiness when we were together...” He wanted to crawl into the open sewer grate alongside the road. He deliberately looked away.
Thomas smiled, “I think you’re a sweet person who’s just hit a few bumps in the road of love. It happens to the best of them.”
“They weren’t bumps; they were hills... mountains that sent me flying into oblivion.”
“They were bumps, to you mountains only because you exaggerate, and you always came back down. You recovered.”
“How do you know?”
“Well, you had the strength to try again with Chris. You couldn’t have been that far out.... and you’ll try again, and someday, some lucky man will be able to call you his.”
Corey wiped the tears from his face, “Think so?”
“I know so.”
Corey felt a bit silly for bursting out at Thomas as he had. He must’ve looked like a raving lunatic. “I thought you didn’t really like me anymore.”
“Why would you think that?”
“The other day in town I was under the impression that you...” He paused awkwardly, “...You didn’t want me around.”
Thomas quickly jumped to his own defense, “No. That wasn’t it. I just figured you had better things to do than waste a day with me.”
Corey ran his fingers across his forehead, “I wouldn’t have asked if... I didn’t want to.”
Neither of them spoke for a minute. Maybe it was because they didn’t know what to say, or because no words were needed. They enjoyed being together.
Corey broke the uncomfortable silence, “Thanks for bringing back to Earth.”
“No problem,” Thomas stated kindly.
Once again, Corey turned away and headed away, “And for pointing out my drama.”
“Anytime.”
“Night,” he called.
Thomas watched him walk away, farther and farther he grew. Then he ran to catch him, “Wait!” he yelled.
Corey halted until Thomas reached him. “I may as well walk you home, seeing as though we’re already halfway there.”
They strolled down the desolate street. There was no sound, no movement. “I must sound pathetic to you,” Corey observed, smirking coyly.
“Well...” Thomas teased.
Corey laughed, “Shut up! It’s a very sad state to be in, you realize. That two totally different people recognized a serious flaw in my character in one night is sincerely depressing, you know.” He swayed once into Thomas affectionately, their shoulders collided gently. “What if I don’t know how not to be this way? So uncommonly fixated with love. Obviously that’s not normal. It can’t be normal if it... if I strike people as weird.” He sighed. “Not that me striking people as a bit odd is anything new.” He waited for Thomas to disagree, but he did not.
“Do you think I’m weird?”
“Is that a trick question?”
“No, no be honest. Do you find me strange?
“Absolutely.”
Corey gasped hard, his mouth dangling open. He came to an abrupt stop.
Thomas stopped with him, “Why do you act all insulted? You were just complaining about not being like everyone else, now you want me to tell you that you are?”
Corey remained startled by his alarming way of being truthful, it was rather merciless. “Oh my God, what’s the matter with you? That was rude.”
“You asked me to be honest!” Thomas defended.
“You have no social skills. There is nothing that is filtering what streams from your brain to your mouth, is there?”
“You preferred me to lie? Why lie? Being strange is not a bad thing. I detest the so-called normal people. There are, in fact, no normal people, Corey, only people who deem themselves normal like its some coveted title. You should be grateful that you are rather extraordinary… rather than simply ordinary.”
“So am I strange or extraordinary? Because I don’t think those are the same. Strange is a creepy old man who hangs around school playgrounds.”
Thomas’s shoulders drooped, “Why are you fishing for affirmation?”
Corey spoke emphatically, “I’m not, I just want you to clarify for me, after calling me strange, whether I’m scary strange or extraordinary, it’s a simple question.”
Thomas smiled with amusement and shook his head, “What does it matter what I, or anyone else thinks of you? You are who you are, nothing less. You need to start liking what you are instead of asking the world around you if you’re acceptable. Stop worrying about gaining approval from everyone you meet. Just be.” It seemed simple enough when Thomas said it, but he realized that what sounded easy wasn’t always as such. “Don’t let this guy call your belief in yourself into question. Love is supposed to empower you, not tear you down.
”
Corey appreciated his wisdom, and he could see the truth in his words, even if it came uncensored. Perhaps he was too far gone to react to vague hints or polite suggestion. “You’re right. As smart as I thought I was, I suppose I still have a lot to learn.”
You’re just making your way like everybody else in this world. I think you’re just too good to grovel over a guy.”
“Apparently I really don’t mind groveling. I guess... it gives me something to do.” Corey said despite himself.
They strolled up the walkway leading up to Corey’s front porch. Corey fished for his key and then inserted it into the lock. He and Thomas walked into the dark foyer. Corey started up the staircase, then stopped on the landing and when he turned, he saw Thomas standing at the bottom staring down at his folded hands.
“Well, night.” Thomas said with a polite nod.
Corey grinned, “Thank you for... walking me home.”
It was the way the dim light fell upon Corey’s face. Partly engulfed by shadow, what a great portrait it would make. Worthy of hanging in the best gallery, just so everyone could see the magnificence he exuded. Thomas, with unconscious motion walked around to the other side of the banister staring up at Corey who seemed to hover above him, suspended.
He was devoured by his sheer elegance. His long, thin arms framed his delicate body. The way he spoke without uttering a sound, as if he were more powerful than anyone, and could say so much with only his eyes. Something so out of this world that it may even frighten a modern man who would think him to be a ghost, or even an angel.
As Thomas stared at him on the landing above, one hand draped over the post of the banister, he remembered a scene from film he had once watched. He searched his mind for the dialogue, and it came back with vivid clarity.
With his eyes glued to Corey, he began to speak the words of a song. “Over the banister leans a face, tenderly sweet and... and...”
Corey knew those words. They were from Meet Me in St. Louis. The scene when Judy Garland led Tom Drake, her hopeful love interest, through the house at the close of the evening. As she dimmed the gaslights on the stairwell he admired her beauty, perhaps for the first time, from below.
He finished his thought, speaking in a hushed tone. “…Beguiling.” He grew quiet, drawn in by the moment.
Thomas took a step forward, ”Beguiling.”
The moment dominated them. It seemed far too perfect to be mere coincidence, practically supernatural, and their words did not quickly die, they resonated, echoed even. It was a surprise neither of them had expected, but it had enchanted them to the very core of their being.
“You know Meet Me in St. Louis.” Corey concluded quietly, and with marked delight.
Thomas looked at him, his head just slightly tilted, his deep set eyes offering iridescent flecks of light. “School play... I controlled the soundboard. I had to listen to Abbey Grazer sing it about a hundred and fifty times. It was like satanic karaoke.” Thomas whispered. “I guess the words stuck with me.”
Corey stood lost in his presence, so absorbed by the etchings of his face that he didn’t think to speak anymore. He could he have just stared at him, he would have without hesitation, all night.
Thomas forced himself to look away. He headed toward the door slowly, turning once, “I should go.” he said hesitantly. He didn’t really want to leave.
Corey jolted, his heart willed him to stay, but, he said not a word. He watched as Thomas opened the door, stepping out against the wind that rushed in, flowing against them both.
“Sweet dreams, Corey.” And then he was gone, having taken a piece of Corey along with him.
The house was dark, as all of the houses on Wisteria Street were at two in the morning. She had left the beach at midnight, just after the fireworks show according to her watch. A walk that should have taken only thirty minutes had become two hours. Rachel found old corners of Sadie, places she had forgotten existed. The old Playground on Cherry Street, a faded version of it, anyhow, not as she remembered it as a child. It must have happened in the blink of an eye, when the world around her changed.
Gabe had abandoned her at the beach, disappeared. What initially might have left her sick with worry had instead aroused another part of her she forgot existed... a life before him. She couldn’t have recalled a life before Gabriel Cavanaugh before. There may as well not have been one. As if he had breathed life into her, there was nothing prior.
But there was.
She opened her door, which her Mother had forgotten to lock, and crept inside. She laid her pink cardigan on the back of the desk chair and moved upstairs, retreating to the solitude of her familiar bedroom. Her girlhood haven. Teddy bears on white racks lined the walls along the ceiling. The Little Giants team flag hung above her vanity along with various school oriented paraphernalia, her pom-poms, framed awards, perfect attendance, honor roll, the coveted Lincoln High Spirit award. There were also her ribbons from throughout her school years, the Eighth grade spelling bee. Second place. So many little trinkets, artifacts from her past, notes of achievement that seemed to mean so much then, so little now, yet they were all around her, on display. None of those things represented her life today, nothing on the wall to mark her falling from the wayside. No award to commemorate the fearsome confusion that had befell her, no ribbon to remember this aching by.
Childish things. A little girl’s playroom. She wondered if she somehow trapped herself in that place she once most favored, the wistful, uncomplicated world of a child. She had deliberately stunted herself, unwilling and afraid to change. It wasn’t necessary; after all, no one had expected her to.
She sat at her vanity and stared at her own face, her windswept hair drawn back over her shoulders, her nose still slightly red from the cool evening air. It could have been one of the empty objects adorning the walls, her reflection; for it wasn’t the careless child she had always seen staring back at her. It was someone else.
This was a woman, still young, but not who anyone outside her would expect to see. This girl looking back, she was changing, asking questions, needing information. No longer was she satisfied with other lives colliding with her own, people making choices that would affect her, things in her precious world changing... a world which she had ignorantly trusted to keep her safe, preserved like a child mummy. A child forever.
Gabe had changed, where once he was so protective, practically suffocating, now his attention was elsewhere. Perhaps it was merely evolution, no fault of his own. That he no longer wished to maintain a relationship with a child was to be expected. He had grown. She hadn’t. Angie had changed, blossomed seemed a better word, from the withdrawn victim of social dismissal to a woman on a journey, no longer static, no longer satisfied with other people dictating her place in this world. Evolution. A quiet anger burned, that people had gone ahead for so long, lives in motion, and she remained the same. When would it be her turn?
She moved to her bed and undressed, pulling her nightgown from the wooden post, sliding it over her slender frame. She crawled beneath her white knitted blanket, between her fingers she toyed with the pink ruffles of her pillow case and stared into nothingness. What if she couldn’t be anything else but a child. She couldn’t trust herself; she had not the devices to survive in the real world, any place beyond Sadie. Who would take care of her out there? No one was reliable anymore, people were changing so suddenly, or had it been sudden at all? Maybe she had just been blind to it as she was too many things, unassuming, trustful.
She heard a knock at the door once, yet continued to lay still. It was undoubtedly Gabe with an apology. Anymore he had become so predictable in the aftermath. He would say he was sorry; she would smile and tell him it was all right. It was always all right. Only, now, her once unsuspecting mind had awoken, and everywhere she looked she found only madness. Why did he constantly have to apologize? What was happening between the moment of his crime and the apology that would follow?
What was the antagonist? What wasn’t she capable seeing?
The knock came again, harder. She sighed and kicked back her blanket. He was certain to wake her mother and it was obvious he wasn’t going to go away without having his obligatory I’m sorry.
As she came to her door she slowly opened it. She was too late. She could hear her Mother’s voice downstairs.
“Just a moment.” Carol said as she moved toward the door. She pulled the ties of her red silk robe tightly beneath her breast. She wondered if she had locked Rachel out, who else would be at the door at such an hour?
She turned the latch and pulled it open revealing a young woman, someone she didn’t recognize.
The woman looked at her desperately, her clothes were hanging in layers around her thin frame, she looked tired, like someone who had been up for days. She shook as she held her arms close to herself, yet it was not from the cold. “I’m sorry it’s so late.”
“Yes?” There was an air of concern apparent in her tone. She wondered if perhaps the stranger was sick, or the victim of an accident on their street.
“I’m Alice.” The woman said quietly. “Does Steven Porter live here?”
Carol stared at her hard now; she could only take shallow breaths. “Yes.”
“Are you his wife?”
She hesitated, but answered, “Yes.”
Alice now looked at her directly in the face, a pleading expression embossed there, “Can you help me?” Her chin trembled. “Please.”
Carol opened the door further, inviting the woman inside, closing the door behind her. She forced a congenial smile, but her insides quaked. She regretted answering the door, but she didn’t know why. She found herself terrified of this woman, of what she would impart. Was Steven dead somewhere? Sick? “How can I help you?”
“Is Steven here?”
Carol shook her head. “No.” She brought her hand to her throat and inhaled heavily, for some reason she became very hot. “He’s away.”
Alice’s expression curled into one of pain and she stifled a cry. Carol could only watch helplessly.
“I’m so sorry.” Alice said, bowing her head as she wiped her eyes with her sleeves. “I didn’t want to come here, but I have no place else to go.”
Now carol fell mechanical, she had turned off her emotions, numbed herself from the brutality of the situation. Something was coming. Something that could easily tear her apart. She knew. She knew…
“Why are you here?” She asked straight forwardly, now looking through Alice.
Alice lingered before her, studying her closely, assessing her character as best she could before uttering anything that she might object to. This wasn’t how things were supposed to happen for her, this was not where she intended to be. It was a nightmare while awake.
“I’m- You see, I’m going to have a baby..”
Carol had no reaction, she listened but never flinched. She had no reason to ask anything further. She knew.
Alice was disturbed by her unusual calm manner. “Steven… He’s the...”
Unconsciously, Carol took a small step backward as if distance would soften the blow. “Yes, I understand.” Carol answered immediately.
“I didn’t want to come, but he’s not returning my calls and he won’t see me, and I-“ She began to lose herself in the retrospect. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this.” She began to weep. “I’m sorry.” she said again.
This wasn’t altogether a surprise, in fact, Carol was only shocked that it had taken so long, but it was happening now. She felt like she were staring Steven in the face, directly into his betrayal, and it was like being impaled. It had walked into her house- into her very home and greeted her; his sin.
“I need money. I can’t afford it, my father will never understand. I’m just getting my life together, I got my GED...
“How old are you?”
“Twenty Two.” Alice answered; she took a jarred breath, “I didn’t know he was married. He wasn’t wearing a ring.” She shook her head from side to side apologetically, “I’m so sorry.”
She couldn’t swallow, Carol tried, but she couldn’t, her esophagus had constricted and was nearly choking her. “How much?”
Alice hesitated, “Two Thousand.” She replied, “There’s a doctor in Hartford and-“ She stopped, keen to Carol’s vacant expression, wondering why she hadn’t screamed or called her a liar, why she hadn’t hit her or thrown her out of her house. “You didn’t deserve this.” She began. “I- I don’t know you or your life, but no woman should have to be where you are right now. No woman wants to be where I am. I know I messed up.”
Carol looked at her once again, at the tears gleaming down her face, the dark circles under her eyes, trembling. She was a human being, whether a willing participant or not, she was not terribly unlike Carol herself, the consequence of trust, of expectation, of hope, all brought down to the very floor on which they stood. Destroyed.
Unnerved by her silence, Alice spoke; “You’ll never have to see me again. We- we can forget this ever happened Mrs. Porter. We can go back to our lives and- and everything will be okay again, right? I never meant to do this, Mrs. Porter, I never meant to do this... I never meant to do this.” She began to cry again, appearing more lost and alone than Carol even believed herself to be. She too, was afraid. She was no more of a stranger to Carol than she herself was to this girl, and the things she had been forced to say, with no other possible alternative, to the wife of soulless creature she had been abandoned by seemed to cruel for words.
He had done this to them, to both of them.
Carol stepped forward and took the girls arm softly. “I know.” She said softly.
Unexpectedly, Alice embraced her, buried her face in her shoulder and sobbed.
Carol jolted unsteadily, her limbs hung loosely at her side as she listened to the sorrowful cries of a life gone terribly astray. This was someone’s daughter, someone’s child, not much older than her own; it could have been her daughter. Slowly, her arms came around the girl, pushing back her hair, and she found herself holding her.
nine
Any Love is better than None At All
Sadie Stories Page 7