by David Scott
Following in behind the twins came the girls’ hockey team, and the baseball boys. Simon had not invited them but they were most welcome, and would certainly elevate the status of his party. Molly must be behind this. Simon relaxed.
The alcohol flowed, as more and more strangers came through his door. Simon stood idly by saying a quick hello, ignored by most, as they pushed on through the growing crowd to get a drink. He recognised a few people, some of whom had been on the trip to Ireland, who stopped briefly to have a quick chat but there seemed little genuine interest.
This was a mistake, Simon thought as he watched his everyday living space become polluted by a sea of unknown faces. He had never felt lonelier. The camaraderie and friendships between the others only highlighted how he had no one.
Simon moved over to the sideboard and took a large plastic cup; he filled it with beer, and then poured some sambuca into the top. It swirled it around but the spirit did not sink to the bottom or mix well. Nevertheless, he downed it and thought back to happier times.
Through the noise, Simon heard a familiar voice.
“Excuse me. Sorry! Oh, hello! Nice to see you, catch up later? Coming through. Sorry.”
He looked over and saw Molly coming towards him, making her way through the crowd, smiling broadly. She grabbed Simon, and hugged him warmly before kissing him on both cheeks. She looked around at the crowd, and then back at Simon.
“It’s so nice to see you, Si.” Molly said genuinely, “I hope you don’t mind that I invited one or two more people along? It’s just that it is Saturday night, and this is such a cool venue. A rave on a remote farm! And I have a special surprise for you.”
Molly sounded so excited. Her eyes sparkled, as she stared at Simon intensely. And then Simon saw them coming through the door. His heart leaped. He forgot everything else, and forced his way through the baseball giants towards them, calling out.
“Carl! Vaughn! Carl!” Simon shouted out, almost desperately.
Simon didn’t realise it, but there were tears ploughing down his face. Any anguish immediately evaporated to be replaced by utter happiness. Carl grabbed Simon and held him, his warm cheek pressing against Simon’s. Carl pushed Simon back to get a proper look at him, as if double-checking he was real.
“So, my friend,” Carl said, also with tears in his eyes, “I heard that you were throwing a party and, well, I thought it would be rude to miss it.”
Carl hugged Simon again. Vaughn pulled them apart, and gave Simon an over-strong bear-hug.
“Look at you, Si.” Vaughn said, holding his shoulders, “So old-looking now, and even more handsome. Don’t you agree, Carl?”
“Of course,” Carl replied enthusiastically, “but then he was always the prettiest of the four of us.”
“Hey, watch it.” Molly intervened, giving Carl a gentle punch on the arm. Carl recoiled in an exaggerated fashion, as though she had hit him a lot harder.
“Si, are you ok?” Carl asked, concerned, noticing that tears were still flowing freely over Simon’s face.
“Yes. Yes! More than ok. I cannot tell you how happy I am to see you!” Simon said, rubbing his eyes, “I have missed you all so much.”
Simon suddenly found himself open with his emotions but he just couldn’t hold back how pleased he was, and how much this meant to him. They all made cooing noises before hugging and kissing him, in a group huddle. It was as if they had never been apart.
“So, shall we wash away those tears with some beer submarines?” Carl asked, raising one eyebrow in a suggestive manner, “Come on, Si, let’s get this party started.”
Carl pulled Simon away from Molly and Vaughn, who were now holding hands. They grabbed some cans, the bottle of sambuca, and various glasses, and headed over to a small corner of the room, so that they could catch-up properly. Simon looked back to see Molly put her arms around Vaughn’s neck, and kiss him.
They sat close to each other. Carl put his arm around Simon. Simon momentarily worried what other people might think but then lost any inhibition, he was just so pleased to have Carl back in his life, and his presence emboldened him. It was like a dream.
They started by reminiscing about the good old times in Ireland. How special it had been. Simon remembered it all, having imprinted his time in Dublin into his mind, like a stamp in soft wax. He replayed his happiest moments over and over again, terrified of forgetting his time with Carl.
They then turned to the present. It turned out that Simon did not have a great deal to tell Carl, as he had done very little other than mope around the farm trying to find himself, whatever that meant. Simon mentioned how he and Molly had drifted apart. How it had not been the same without Carl and Vaughn.
Of course, Carl had not had the same issue with Vaughn, as they were brothers, but he described how Vaughn had become like a different person on his return to the States. He had become a shadow of himself, spending most of his time smoking weed in his small apartment, only leaving to collect the essentials from the nearby corner shop.
Carl tried everything to help Vaughn, but Vaughn’s deep sadness had dulled his soul and lethargy was his new queen, reigning over him and letting him waste away. Vaughn looked terminally ill; sunken face, dark shadows under bloodshot eyes, unshaven face, straggly, long hair.
Carl knew that Vaughn’s separation from Molly was the cause of his decline. Vaughn’s pride prevented him from calling Molly, but that did not stop Carl. When Molly had heard about Vaughn’s state, she apparently burst into tears on the phone and promised that she would be there as soon as she could.
Vaughn had flown into a rage when Carl had confessed what he had done, but it acted as the exact catalyst for change that Vaughn needed. It was as if he had suddenly awoken from a bad dream. Seeing himself properly in the mirror for the first time in so many weeks; it shocked him. He had immediately gone into overdrive to find himself again, to retrieve the Vaughn that Molly had last seen, and loved.
Carl had stood smiling in the background, watching as Molly and Vaughn were reunited at the airport. After that, they swore to one another never to be parted again. The star-crossed lovers reunited for a ‘happy-ever-after’ ending.
“So, why were they not just open about their relationship when we were in Ireland, Carl?” Simon asked, “Why all of the secrets? It was not as if you and I didn’t really know what was happening. It was pretty obvious.”
“Well, it turns out that Molly actually had a long-term boyfriend at the time. Vaughn knew about it, and told Molly that she should just tell him the truth. Molly agreed, but wanted to do it face to face. She thought he deserved at least that much, as they were childhood sweethearts.”
Simon fell silent, waiting for Carl to continue, as if listening to some sort of radio soap opera.
“But when Molly returned home, she just allowed things to continue as though Dublin had never happened, and she had never met Vaughn. Molly told us that she just couldn’t. It was too hard. Then when I told her about Vaughn, the urgency of the situation jolted her out of inertia, and crystallised her feelings for Vaughn. Everything is out in the open now, and Molly and Vaughn are free to be together.”
Simon thought carefully about what to say next. He knew Molly was a decent person, and sometimes fate takes decisions out of your hands, no matter what hurt it causes to others; Destiny will have her way.
“I’m surprised that Molly would do that.” Simon said, watching Carl carefully for any reaction, “Then again, the way I see it is that she had no choice. You can’t change the way you feel about someone. And sometimes those feelings are so overwhelming that you are powerless to resist them. I am a strong believer in fate. What will be, will be.”
“I will drink to that,” Carl said, raising his glass, “We’ve all done things we’re not proud of and, at the end of the day, if you care about someone you will support them. And we will stand by Vaughn and Molly.”
Simon hadn’t known that Molly had a boyfriend, and wondered whether he was taking t
his position because it was convenient. Was he really going to spoil the night by having some moral outrage at Molly and Vaughn’s actions? After all, they could have waited and done the honourable thing of letting Molly break up with her boyfriend first before they took things further. No, he wasn’t. For the first time in months, Simon felt happy, and he wasn’t going to do anything that might risk that feeling. Anyway, who was he to judge?
Simon also had a flash-thought about what Molly did with her boyfriend before she broke up with him; was she still sleeping with him? Still pretending? Maybe she would never have changed anything if Carl had not telephoned her to plead on Vaughn’s behalf. What does that say about her love for Vaughn?
Carl smiled at Simon, as these thoughts were going through Simon’s head. Carl’s natural warmth positively radiated from him. Simon felt his lonely heart start to thaw, having been released by Carl from its icy prison, and he started to feel happiness again; the potential onslaught of depression averted just in time.
What was interesting to Simon was that he now clearly realised that his feelings for Carl were purely platonic. Simon felt no sexual desire for him. Yes, he had everything that Simon would have looked for in a boyfriend, but that physical spark just wasn’t there. Maybe Simon had subconsciously subdued it because he knew Carl had showed no interest in him that way. And yet there was love, and perhaps this was a higher feeling than a mere physical attraction or passion.
If Carl was going to be a permanent feature in his life, which Simon sincerely hoped he would be, then Simon knew it was time for him to tell Carl everything. To be open about his sexuality. Either Carl would accept it or not. Either way, Simon would know where he stood, and their relationship could take the path it was supposed to.
Emboldened by the drink, Simon decided to tell Carl straight away. Carpe diem and all of that; except, Simon had never seized the day. What had Pulcinella warned people? Live now before it was too late. It seemed like sound advice, albeit the message could have been better delivered. Simon had done nothing before but now he would. There would be no more hidden feelings or unseen tears. Enough was enough.
Perhaps he was being hard on himself, Simon thought. Sometimes you just need time to deal with things. Not everyone can be out and proud immediately. A seed of doubt about people’s reactions is planted at a young age and can quickly grow into a towering oak, which takes a strong axe of courage to cut it down. But now was the time for the first strike at that tree stump.
Simon’s palms became sweaty. He felt nauseous as feelings of excitement mixed with sheer terror, or perhaps it was just the alcohol. A serious look fell across his face, as he turned to look at Carl. Carl could tell that a serious discussion was on its way, and gave Simon his full attention.
“Carl, I have something that I need to tell you about me. I probably should have told you straight away but I just couldn’t. Carl, I’m gay.”
Carl simply smiled, turned towards Simon, and held him for a moment.
“Si, I think I already knew that my friend. Thank you for telling me. And, you know, that I love you exactly the same. Right?”
Simon felt a surge of relief. He took a drink to wet his dry throat.
“You already knew? How come? I’m not that camp acting, am I? Not that there is anything wrong with that, it’s just I thought no one would know.”
“No, Si, you’re not camp” Carl said grinning, “However, you are not, how should I put it, very discrete when it comes to checking out guys. I can see your eyes you know? Also, you never talk about girls or show any interest whatsoever when a beautiful woman walks past you. Whereas, when a handsome guy comes your way, you swivel your head around so fast I worry your neck might snap!”
Carl chuckled and put his arm around Simon.
“I haven’t seen you check out any girls either, Carl,” Simon said defensively.
Simon realised that everyone probably knew he was gay, and was annoyed at himself for being so obvious about his shallow, physical longings.
Of course, that explained why Molly was so relaxed around him, and their relationship was so easy; they didn’t need to peacock around one another.
Simon had almost forgotten his retort, taking another drink, until he realised that Carl was answering him.
“Not to you I don’t. I didn’t want to put you in a position where you might feel you needed to join in, which could have led to a situation where our friendship turned on long discussions about false fancies. I knew you would tell me sooner or later. When you were ready.”
Simon suddenly felt guilt and sadness wash over him. He should have told Carl sooner. He should have realised that Carl was someone to confide in. But secrets become harder to share as time passes; the act of revelation becomes a giant in your mind, compelling you to keep quiet out of fear of rejection or abuse.
Simon had not wanted to risk losing the closeness that he and Carl enjoyed, but perhaps you have to risk destroying a relationship with the truth in order to make it stronger; just like some plants need to be cut back in order to re-grow stronger in sunnier climes.
Now they both could be open with each other. Just fully be themselves.
“Si, you are like family to me.” Carl continued, “I love you, and will always be there for you. I am proud that you had the courage to come out to me. Honoured that you told me first. It will change nothing between us, except I suspect we will now be bombarding each other with a running commentary on who we find hot!”
Serious enough to convey sincerely his feelings, yet equally capable of returning the mood to a lighter tone; this was typical Carl.
Buoyed by the levity he felt from at last telling someone his deepest secret, and the effects from the beer submarine, Simon decided to play a prank on Carl. This was not his usual style, but he also wanted to break any residual tension, and assure Carl of his platonic feelings.
“But Carl, I like you.” Simon said quietly, “I thought you realised.”
Carl’s face went white, and he looked genuinely shocked. His eyes flitted back and forth as he searched for words.
“I mean, I’m flattered Si, but …”
An infrequently seen, impish grin crossed Simon’s face, as he burst out laughing.
“Why you little …” Carl said, smiling broadly.
Carl grabbed Simon playfully around the neck, and started gently knuckling his head.
“Well, you should!” Carl pretended to be hurt, “Why not? After all, I am handsome, funny, modest. You could have meant it. I am not so stupid, am I? Maybe I am.”
Carl groaned, looking at the empty bottles littering the floor around them.
“Come on, Si, let’s get another drink.”
Simon hadn’t noticed but, while he was talking with Carl, people had slowly left the main room, and there were only a few people left sitting around the fire.
Simon had prepared the fire earlier, before anyone arrived. Logs sat atop kindling which lay on a bed of old newspapers. Simon lit the paper with a long cook’s match. He blew on it for a few seconds, and watched as the new-born flames devoured the paper, ignited the kindling, and started licking at the coal with their scorching, yellow tongues.
The back door was open, as the party had moved outside, and the cold night air had drifted in. The music grew louder, as one of the revellers had turned up their favourite song. Simon and Carl looked on.
Solar lighting gently lit the pathway from the backyard to the farm buildings in the distance, and the road alongside it. In the orangey glow, numerous bodies snaked along the path, identities lost in the shadows.
There was a relaxing hubbub of contented chatter. Bodies gyrated slowly in the lamplight to the music, warmed by alcohol’s tightening embrace. Others sat nearby on the grassy verges. Some couples had moved further out, and could just be seen merging together; the twinkling celestials high above encouraging young lovers to come together under their watchful eyes.
Near the end of the path, the cheerleaders’ shadowy shapes co
ntorted and curled in time with the chill-out tunes; arms reaching to the heavens, pleated skirts swaying slowly in perfect rhythm with the gentle breeze. Lost in the moment, and hypnotised by the effects of innocent-sounding spirits and cocktails.
Molly skipped over towards Simon, just as his mobile phone started to ring. Simon took the call, making apologetic faces at Molly.
“I see. Right. Well that’s difficult for me. I can’t drive, as I have been drinking.”
Molly was trying to listen in, and whispered out to him.
“What is going on, Si?” Molly asked.
“Can you hold the line a second please? I just need to see if anyone here can help. Thanks.”
Simon turned to Molly.
“It’s the pizza place. Their driver has called in sick and they can’t deliver our food.”
“I can go, Si.” Molly offered, “To be honest, I could do with a little me-time. I have a lot on my mind, and need to figure a couple of things out.”
“Are you sure? I thought you’d been knocking back the gin and tonics?”
“No. That’s my little trick. It’s just sparkling water, ice cubes and a slice of lemon, to make people believe that I am drinking. I need to keep a clear head tonight. Really, I would like to go.”
Simon went back on the phone, and spoke again with the pizza shop owner.
“My friend Molly will come over to collect it. I hope we’ll get a discount for the inconvenience. Yes, that sounds fair. She’ll be there in about half-an-hour. Ok, thanks. Goodbye.”
Simon passed over some money to Molly, and gave her a quick hug. It was like old times.
“Thanks Molly. I owe you one. Heck, I owe you a million! It’s probably best if you park up front when you get back, just so we can get the food inside quickly. Give me a call if there are any problems.”
Molly smiled, nodded, and walked off down the path. Just as she had gone from sight, Carl came bounding out of the house and down the track, dragging Vaughn behind him.