White Life

[ChrisGibson]

Mason didn’t know what to say. Anything he said would be stupid.

There was another knock at the door, and Mason got up to answer it.

Balliol said, “Addison! Seth, what the hell—?” and Mason steered him out of the room to explain the situation.

For the brief second they were gone Seth said, “Addison. You know Bonnie Metzger?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you should fuck her.”

Addison looked at him as close to shocked as Addison Cromptley could look.

“I mean, it’ll take your mind off of Becky. She’s the only... you’ve ever had. Bonnie likes you and she’ll do whatever. She talks about you.”

“Aren’t you fucking her?”

“Sometimes.” Seth shrugged. “When I feel like it. It’s no big deal. She’ll do whatever you want her to. You know what she did to me two weeks ago—”

The door opened again and Balliol headed for Addison. He threw an arm over him and said, “Oh, fuck fuck fuck you poor fucker!”

And then sighed.

“Balliol,” Seth told him. “For you that’s really, really sensitive.”

Balliol sighed again and said, “Few people ever notice my softer side.”



As Balliol was packing there was a knock at the door and he said, “Come in.”

Mason walked in, sat on the bed and said nothing.

“Yes, Mason?”

“Balliol, we’re friends, right?”

“You ask me while I stand her in a white robe in some crazy house waiting for Enlightenment because you asked me to come.”

Mason cracked a smile and said, “Well then you’ll tell me what’s up?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been sort of down this morning.”

“You’ve got me confused with Addison. He’s the one who lost his girlfriend and looks like he’s about to burst into tears. Can you imagine? She told him he sucked in bed.” Balliol shook his head, reflecting on this. “You don’t say that. Heartless bitch!”

“We’re getting off the subject,” Mason said.

Balliol looked at him in amazement.

“Beneath your frivolous exterior, you’ve got a will like a fucking bulldog, don’t you?”

“Yes. Now what’s up?”

“Are you going to make me be all emotional and talk about my feelings? You know I’m British. British and Black.”

Mason cocked his head.

“Alright, already!” Balliol slammed the bag shut. “Alright, goddamnit. I’ll talk. But don’t expect me to start crying.”

“I would never expect that.”

“Don’t be surprised, Mason Darrow. I’ve shed a tear now and again. By myself. Even the Queen cries.”

“Queen of England?”

“That’s what I meant.”

“Oh, I thought you were making some sort of homosexual reference.”

“Sometimes I can’t tell if you’re joking or serious.”

Mason shrugged. “Sometimes I can’t tell either. Now out with it.”

Balliol sighed. “It’s just... It’s just I thought of how Addison came to you, because you’re his best friend and you all have been best friends for years and...We’re friends, yes, the best of friends. But I still think about Sullivan. I miss him. I got to feeling really bad about him not being around. I used to be there for him and.… He was there for me too. When no one was. I don’t even know if he’s okay or not. I just miss him a lot sometimes.”

“I’ve told you to call him.”

“And I’ve told you that shit’s not happening. That bird has flown. Just liek the Beatles song.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking abut.”

“Oh, isn’t it good,” Balliol sang. “Norwegian wood.”

I still don’t know what you’re talking about. And that’s not a critique on your musical ability.”

Balliol blew out his breath, exasperated. “Nevermind.”

“You know what I think?” Mason said after a while. “I think that you all just needed space and stuff and... I think that you all will be friends again. I think he misses you just as much as you miss him.”

“I doubt it,” Balliol shook his head and opened the bag back up, remembered to keep on packing. “He’s got Chris Powers. What does he need me for?”



Chris arrived home in time to shower and dress for church. He was odd, Mark thought, and he considered asking his son later on what was wrong with him. With Chris you had to find the right time to ask, or else he would just say, “Nothing, Dad, “ and smile.

The way I do Mark realized.

Chris wore nice khakis and an oxford blue shirt, a plaid tie. He looked nice, but... something. Something was going on with him. Mark worried about Chris more and more. The better the boy’s life appeared, the more things seemed together and in their proper place the more Mark worried. And then, in the last few months, Chris had started to hang out with Sully, and this morning Sullivan didn’t come back to the house with them, and Chris looked troubled so maybe they’d fought. He wanted to ask. He couldn’t ask.

“You look distracted,” Mark said to his son.”

“Oh, huh,” Chris turned to him,” What’s that, Dad?”

“Nothing,” Mark said.

Chris smiled politely and they kept driving.



Saint Patrick’s was crowded for High Mass, but everyone was more or less in their usual seats so it wasn’t hard to find Joel. Seth, of course, was not there. Mark was pretty sure Seth didn’t even believe in God. When Mass began Mark tried to pay attention, tried to be reverent, tried to lose himself in the service. He’d always been serious about church even if, in his own mind, he wasn’t the greatest Catholic. And he needed to be serious right now. He needed to pray.

But even when he prayed he observed. He observed the various looks on the people’s faces. He watched for who was missing, who was here, why Mrs. Swank’s daughter was here when she ought to have been at college. Was she here for Thanksgiving? It was next week and everything.

And when it was Communion, Mark realized that Joel didn’t get up. Maybe Joel had just forgotten to go to Confession yesterday. He was a real stickler about things like that. He didn’t ask because Joel wouldn’t want to answer.

When Mass was over, Mark said, “Are you coming to our house?”

“Alright,” said Joel.

“Will you call Seth and see if he wants to come.” Mark said.

“How is Seth?” Chris asked on the church steps.

“He’s in Pennsylvania,” Joel scratched his head. “Go fig. He and a friend went there.”

“One of Sully’s friends went to Pennsylvania?” Chris commented.

It was a polite enough question. There was no way in hell Seth Mc.Kenna would have set foot in Chris Power’s house. The three fathers might be together, and Mason might endure Chris, or Seth would hang out at Mason’s house, but Seth and Chris... they lived in two different worlds now.

 

[ChrisGibson]

“Mason, it’s open!” Savannah said and was surprised when it turned out to be Adam who entered the room.

“My Mason, you’ve grown,” she said.

She had to say something witty and pretend she was looking at him. He was so tall and so thin, there was something about his leanness, and his oddness.

“Good morning,” she told him.

“Will you be coming out for tofu on the promenade,” he offered his arm.

“I was going to go get Mason and Balliol.”

“Oh, they’re occupied,” Adam told her. “Apparently some friends of theirs turned up last night. There was this big crisis back in Cartimandua. Seems like we can’t get away from Ohio no matter how hard we try.”

“Well, in that case,” Savannah said, standing up and offering her arm, “I guess I’m free.”

The worst thing in being curious about someone new was that you kept wanting to look at them and get close to them, but the moment you were close, you had to stop looking because then that would be staring, so while they walked together to breakfast, Alex making small talk, and the surface of Savannah’s mind responding, she kept on catching sneak glimpses of him. She kept sniffing him too. A man who didn’t bathe was a problem. A man with bad breath would become a problem. So far he wasn’t going to be much of a problem.

“I’m just going to come out and ask it,” Savannah said. “Starting with your hair.”

“No, I’m not gay.”

“What?” Savannah titled her head.

“All men who tint their hair aren’t gay. I’m not gay, I just like tinted hair.”

“I wasn’t even going there,” Savannah told him.

“Oops,” Alex went red and Savannah said, “See, you turn red when you’re embarrassed. But you’re brown, like you’re Spanish or something, and the dark hair that’s tinted red and blond isn’t even your real color.

“My mutton chops,” Alex said, “are my real color.”

“You’re brunette?”

“I thought they were blond.”

“They’re more like dirty blond.”

“Okay,” Alex said.

“So I wanted to know what you were?”

“Oh,” Alex said. “Well, now that’s hard.”

He stood still and screwed up his face.

“My last name is Elwes. My dad was born in England. His father was English, but his wife—my paternal grandmother—was Indian. From India. Not like a Native American. Then my mom is actually half Lakota and half Potuguese.”

“You’re everything.”

“Everything but Black. If we had a kid, then we could take care of that. Speaking of kids, we’re going to go out when we get back to Ohio, right?”

Savannah looked aghast.

“I’d apologize for being forward,” Alex said. “But you don’t get far being timid.”

“I—” Savannah started. “I’m seeing someone.”

“But you already told us he was no good.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did. Yesterday in group meeting. So, how about we start going out?”

“I—I—ah—”

“I’m going to take that as a yes. But how about for now we just talk about little things and forget I mentioned our future together.”

Savannah laughed and shook her head. “Alright then, Alex Elwes. Yes, let’s pretend to be normal and ask normal questions.”

“So what kind of work do you do?”

“Real estate.”

“Really?” Alex said as they sat at the table. “That’s interesting.”

“No it isn’t,” Savannah said. “I think I’m going to pack it up one of these days and just start working on one of the family gas stations.”

“Family—oh!” Alex cut himself off. “Darrow. That Darrow. Darrow Gas, Darrow Groceries.”

“Don’t forget Ginger’s Boutique. That’s my aunt’s store, me and my aunts.”

“You own all this,” Alex said.

“Yes?”

“Then why the hell are you a realtor?”

“Because... Because people are supposed to work and—”

Alex shook his head. “People are supposed to work if they have to. It’s no virtue in pretending you’re middle class if you’re not. You should be shaking your ass.”

“Oh,” Savannah said, “would you shake your ass if you could?”

Alex smiled at her and said, “I shake my ass whenever I feel like it.”

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a great portion! I am enjoying seeing how things are progressing and I look forward to the next portion! I especially like how much these friends support each other. Excellent writing!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Over brunch, Mark said, “How do we all feel about issues?”

“What?” Joel said.

“I mean, “ Mark explained, “we go to church. The Church says this is wrong and that’s wrong and we have to make our own decisions, right?”

“Well,” Sidney said, “Your Church says this is wrong and this is right. It’s very little the Episcopal Church says about anything. Like, you all have this hang up on whose sleeping with who and can men sleep with men and—”

“Exactly,” Mark said. “And that’s a big deal to a lot of people but like, I’m sure even here, in our neighborhood, you’ve got people like that. You know,” Mark said.

“People like that?” Sidney said it all in one word.

“Like men,” Mark said, not as comfortable with this as he thought he would be, “who like other men.”

“Gay people,” Sidney said simply.

“Yes,” Mark said.

Chris began tapping his foot on the floor rapidly, and when Joel looked at him, he stopped.

“And women on the pill, and people shacking up,” Sidney went on.

“Well, we know you don’t care,” Mark said.

“Just because I don’t have the exact same moral code as the one holy and apostolic Roman Catholic Church doesn’t mean I don’t have ethics.”

“Right,” Joel allowed. “But you’re not a practicing Catholic so it doesn’t matter. What Mark is saying is for a Catholic, where do you draw the line?”

Sidney sighed. “The younger ones probably make better sense of it than we do,” Sidney said. “Or at least than you two do.”

“That’s right,” Joel said. “Chris, how would you feel if...?”

“Hum?” said Chris, swallowing his milk and smiling.

“I’m trying to think of something,” said Joel.

“If you met a gay person,” Sidney said.

“Sid!” Joel said.

“Don’t be naive, they’re everywhere,” Sidney told him. “And at a school like Saint Vitus’s every tenth kid’s probably a big old homo.”

Mark rolled his eyes and said, “Homosexual.”

“Am I still supposed to be answering this question?” said Chris.

“Yes,” Mark said now, convinced his son would have a good answer.

Chris looked perplexed and then he touched his throat and let out a long breath.

“I guess the younger generation isn’t quite as ready as we thought they were,” Sidney said, though he was confident Mason would have been.

Chris smiled lightly and shrugged. “I guess not,” he said. “I don’t really have an answer for you all.”



Mason and Balliol had decided to go back in Seth’s truck. Balliol was stretched out in the back, asleep, while the other three sat up front, smoking. Savannah drove with Alex who, of all things, had come here by train and had originally planned to take the train back to Ohio tonight.

“They’re going to be an interesting couple,” Balliol said sitting up.

“He’d be a weird uncle to have,” Seth commented. “But your family’s weird already. Not that I should talk.”

“Well, provided she doesn’t hop into bed with him on the first date there might be a future,” Mason said.

“Ouch,” Addison murmured.

“We all know Savannah’s a slut,” Mason told them. “In fact, she knows it and tells me all the time.”

“Guess what guys?” Seth said. The way he said it, Mason instantly knew that Seth had been waiting to say this for a while.

“What?”

“I found something when I went into my Dad’s room last night... to get some gas money.”

“What, a condom?” Addison joked, and they all laughed. Even Balliol who had only met Joel Mc.Kenna twice.

“No,” Seth said. “He’s too Catholic for a condom. But obviously not too Catholic to fuck his new girlfriend. I found her slip.”

“Are you serious!” Mason gagged on his cigarette.

“I am totally serious. The bed was half made. He must have been plowing the fuck out of her before I got home.” Seth shook his head. “Jesus, I can’t believe this!”

They were quiet awhile and then Addison spoke.

“Seth, you have a sex life, so why can’t your dad?”

“Because he’s my dad. He’s a good Christian and all that and he walks this walk that... I’m supposed to believe in. Only, obviously not. It’s like, what am I going to find next, rolling papers? Joel Mc.Kenna snorting cocaine?”

Mason was a little taken aback too.

“He’s my Confirmation sponsor. He’s my second goddad. I mean, that would like finding out Dr. Powers was.... I don’t know, bisexual or something,” Mason shook his head.

“But, I will say this,” Mason told him. “He’s a real person, just like us. I mean, grown ups are people and he hasn’t been with anyone since your mom left so...”

“I know, “Seth said, sounding a little whiny. “But he’s my dad and—”

“And we don’t even know exactly what happened,” Mason reminded him.

“Oh, I think we do,” Balliol said.

“Balliol!”

Balliol shrugged and lay back down in the back of the truck.

“Jesus!” Seth said again. “A slip in my dad’s room! Jesus!”



That evening Chris came down the stairs in jogging pants and a tucked in tee shirt. He was holding a cup of cocoa in his hands and looking very grownup and serious while Mark was finishing the last of the dinner preparations.

When Chris didn’t speak at once, Mark said, “Yes?”

“I was thinking,” Chris said, putting the large mug down on the kitchen table. “About what you asked me this morning.”

“Hum?”

“The whole gay business.”

“Yes,” Mark was instantly embarrassed and wondered if he was turning red. He moved to the sink and turned the water on, as if the sound of the faucet would drown out the sound pinging in his ears.

“And I’ve thought about it.”

“It was just an academic question,” Mark said, pretending he’d finished washing the glass he’d picked up out to the sink. “It really didn’t mean anything.”

“Oh,” Chris said lightly. He smiled and shrugged. “… And after I’ve come up with an answer and everything. I’m going to lay the table out.”

“Is Sully coming?”

“Not tonight,” Chris said, his voice still light.

Chris reached for the plates and put two of them out. They always set the table.

“Well,” Mark said, “It’s a shame to have a brilliant son ponder over an academic question and not hear his answer.”

“Huh?” said Chris, reaching for the glasses.

“What was your answer? What did you come up with?”

Chris sighed and said, putting his feet together as if he were delivering a speech.

“Everybody is so afraid of so much, right? And when two people love each other, it’s only love. But people are afraid of love because it shakes you up and it makes you soft and turns you into something you didn’t think you were, and people have always been trying to make love... what it should be, ordering it into something. Like, say, in the Middle Ages you didn’t marry for love, you married who you were supposed to, and they had the courtly love thing where you were supposed to pine for someone you couldn’t have. And then Jesus just told people to love each other and he got killed for it. We’re always so busy trying to define love and limit it and make it into something we understand. Why should we worry about it? And then you have a word like gay, or like straight and it just confuses people because no matter what you say, there is something wrong with being gay. It’s not being straight. Straight and narrow and… right. It’s being crooked. It’s not being right, and people are always afraid of that. But it’s silly, isn’t it Dad?”

Chris stopped, realized his face was a little screwed up an then said, tiredly. “People should just love whoever they love and quit worrying about so much. Pass me the forks, Dad.”

Mark did. He looked at the clock on the stove and said, “I think the chicken is ready.

They prepared the meal in virtual silence and then brought their food to the table. Mark said, “Do you want to ask the blessing?”

Chris didn’t, not really, but he did, and then they both crossed themselves and Mark turned on the television.

“You never turn the TV on.”

“I know,” Mark said. “It’s this show, though. I usually watch it when I’m cooking. Dinner’s ready early tonight, so... Do you want me to turn it off?”

“No,” Chris said noncommittally. “Is this that one dating show?”

“Yes,” Mark admitted.

“Dad, you’re a shrink, you know this is stupid.”

“I’m hooked,” Mark shrugged, grinning.

Chris shrugged and grinned back. He twirled noodles onto his fork and said, his mouth full, “It’s all these idiots looking for love, but they won’t find it because,” he swallowed and sipped his milk, “they think you can just shop for it, and you deserve this one perfect person who is...” Chris shook his head. “What they don’t get is that when someone loves you you better jump on it, I don’t care what form it comes in. Because it’s not going to come again. Like, think about it, you and Mom were the real thing, a once in a lifetime thing. And Sidney and his wife, they never get divorced because... love is unusual.”

Mark was just looking at him with his mouth open.

“What?” Chris said.

“What you said... Love... wherever it comes from…”

“I’m just saying we shouldn’t be so choosy. And we should be... honest. like, maybe if you fall in love you don’t want to admit it because it’s with the wrong person, or it’s going to be too difficult, you know, take too much out of you. So you just turn away from it. That’s the dumbest thing you could ever do.”

Chris went on eating, he reached for another roll.

Mark was rising up.

“Chris, could you clean up the kitchen for me?”

“Huh?” Chris looked up from the roll.

“I have to make a stop. Can you clean up for me?”

“Right now? You’re leaving now?”

“I have to,” Mark said. “I might not get a chance to do this again.”

Chris nodded, his eyes on his father, weighing him. “Sure thing, Dad.”

Mark went to the closet got his jacket and came back into the kitchen, stopping at the kitchen door.

“Chris?”

“Yeah, Dad?”

“Where did you...? How did you get so wise?”

Chris looked at his father with a trace of a frown and said, “I’m eighteen, not ten.”

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was an excellent portion. All this talk about sexuality and religion is very interesting. I especially liked the talk between Chris and Mark. Great writing and I look forward to more soon!

 

[ChrisGibson]

There was a knock at the door, and Rick looked up from the homework he was grading. People didn’t come to visit. The knocking was more insistent and Rick looked around the house realizing it wasn’t anywhere near close to clean. He sighed, resigned, and got up to answer the door.
“Rick, I have to talk to you,” Mark barged into the house.
Rick stared at him, a riot of emotions, most of them unhappy, running through him.
Mark stopped, looked around and said, “This place is a mess. It could really use a good cleaning.”
Rick stared at him.
“We’ll cross that bridge later. Listen, Rick,” Mark said.
But then Mark didn’t say anything else and Rick finally folded his arms over his shoulders.
“You said that my only crime was that I was... good and all that. The best thing that had happened to you. That’s not true,” Mark told him. “That’s not true at all.
“My crime is that I’m a liar. I’m not even honest with myself. I’m afraid, Rick. I’m forty-two. I have a son. I’ve been married, and widowed. I’m afraid. I don’t want a change, but I don’t want to be alone. And I don’t want to lose... who I should have.”
He hadn’t actually been looking at Rick, but now he was. Rick was looking at him, not upset anymore, but curious, maybe afraid even.
“It’s strange,” said Mark. “But last night I couldn’t sleep. I just thought about you. I just thought about you leaving my life, and I even got out old yearbooks and I realized that, on some level, I probably always felt that way. About you. And I feel it now. I, uh, like I said, I’m new to this whole thing, and I don’t want to be rushed into anything. I want to be really slow with this. Like, for starters, I could come over and clean your house. We could start there, and maybe work our way up, because I’d really like to do that.”
Mark’s eyes were directly on Rick now. Rick looked at him. But then Mark’s eyes began roving the house and saying, “I could start with the kitchen. Those pots and pans really should be washed. And Lysol has this brand of toilet wands—”
“Shut up,” Rick said.
Mark looked at him.
“You just babble,” Rick told him gently. “Shut up long enough to let me say yes.”
“You’re saying yes?”
“If you are.”
“Yes,” said Mark.

 

[ChrisGibson]

VIII

A BAD,
ILL FITTING
CHAPTER



“How about you get out of my way, Riley,” Matt Mercurio snapped, coming down the senior steps of Saint Vitus and slamming into the boy.

“Dude, are you even a senior?” Mercurio demanded. “I’m talking to your pimply face, are you?”

Mason Darrow was in the main hall of the school and he didn’t hear anything, but he saw. He saw Matt Mercurio being a bully, as he was to people he could bully, and he saw some other football players, all lounging on the stoops or the sides of the senior porch, getting up, to shove or stop others from shoving Dave Riley.

“What the—?” Balliol started because he’d just come down the hall, as soon as things started getting rough.

“I know you know these are the senior steps,” Mercurio was telling him. “And I know you know you’ve got to be one badass to even try to walk on them? Are you a bad ass, Riley? Are you?”

“I GOT AN IDEA!” Balliol’s voice came from behind him, suddenly.

Matt Mercurio spun around. Five seniors turned around with him.

“My idea is, why don’t you leave people alone. Oh,” Balliol said leaning against the inside of the door. Mason was beside him now, “I’m still inside the building so I’m not on your precious senior steps, alright? But I can ask why you would want to be? It’s winter. It’s cold,” he looked at the sky. “It’s about to snow, and the only thing the school gave you shit for brains was a flight of steps and that tacky little lounge to call your own.”

Balliol pointed to a glassed in room with chairs. “The senior lounge!” he said scornfully. “Ooh, I can’t wait.”

“You know what?” said Matt Mercurio when some laughter arose behind him. “I got an idea too, Balliol. How ‘bout you learn to shut up before you get your ass kicked?”

Balliol’s eyes lit up, and Mason saw him shoot up about three inches. He stepped out onto the porch and stood face to face with Matt.

“By who?” he snapped. And Matt must have seen something too. Mason grew up fighting. It was always a surprise because he was always so nice, so no one expected it when the fight light came on in his eyes. But Balliol... Until this moment he’d never realized Balliol would be willing to fight.

“Back off,” Matt said. “Alright. Go home, Riley,” he turned around.

Dave Riley stood there. He’d been forgotten.

“Go,” Matt said, turning back to Balliol. Balliol still stood there his eyes on fire.

Dave Riley turned to head down the stairs.

“One day!” Dave turned around suddenly, “I’ll come here and shoot this place up, and then you’ll be afraid.”

Balliol was about to say something, but Matt Mercurio turned around and said, “Just keep walking, little man.”

Dave suddenly flashed them a vengeful, pimply smile and ran off. He nearly pummeled into Chris and Sully who coming up the steps.

“What was that all about?” Chris said.

“Nothing,” Balliol and Matt said together.

Sully looked at Balliol.

For a moment he was about to speak, and then Balliol said, “You better watch out, you’re on the senior steps.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sully said, “I am.” He seemed to realize this with a bit of awe and Matt cracked a smile. “Chill out, you’re alright, Sully.”

And then he turned to Balliol and Mason. It was respect more than any affection.

“You’re all alright,” he said.

“Thanks,” Balliol smirked. He turned around and walked back inside. Mason was already gone.

“What all went on?” Chris said.

Dick Manchester said, “Lincoln Balliol was about to try to fight Matt.” “He looked sort of fierce,” Matt admitted.

“Were you afraid?” Manchester jested. “He’s a smart ass, but he’s a rich little—”

“Balliol can fight,” Sully said looking back inside, to the main lobby of the school, which was empty now. “And he doesn’t try to fight clean. He tries to win which is why he does. Back in grade school when kids used to make fun of me Balliol would kick their asses all the time.”



“My jaws hurt, that means I’m sleepy,” Chris said. “We gotta get on home. Matt, you coming with us?”

“No,” Matt shook his head. “I’m going to my own home,” he stretched and yawned. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”

Sully chuckled on his side of the booth.

“You wait and see, young man,” Matt Mercurio said. “When you’re eighteen you’ll start to feel your age. They should have gave a senior elevator,” he remarked as Chris got up to go to the restroom.

“So,” Matt said, “how long were you friends with Balliol?”

“I told you. My whole life. We went to the same after school day care. Until Bailey went to boarding school. Then I left Catholic school for a few years and me and Bailey went to the same private school.”

“No public?”

Sully feigned shock. “Bite your tongue!”

“Balliol went to boarding school?”

“For about a year,” Sully shrugged. “Then he came back and went to Strathclyde.”

Matt Mercurio frowned up his face. “That figures.”

“They say it’s one of the best schools in Ohio.”

“They’re snots.”

“That’s why I think Balliol came here for high school.”

“But you all aren’t friends anymore?”

“I don’t know. I mean, no, I guess not.”

“What happened?” said Matt. “Not that it’s my business.”

Sully thought. “I don’t know. What did happen? We weren’t getting along. He was... always getting on my case about stuff. I thought that... I thought he was mean.”

“Well, he is mean,” Matt said. “But I’m mean too.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” said Matt. “I don’t mean to be. I don’t know what happens to me. I just... I am mean.”

“Well, I think Balliol means to be.”

“I think he does too,” Matt said. “He’s the most ruthless motherfucker I’ve seen. But he will do stuff like that. Stick up for people. Like today. And you said he used to fight people for you. So... maybe you have to be a little mean.”

“I don’t know,” Sully said. “There’s so much I thought I did know, but now I don’t. It’s like...

“Look,” Sully leaned over the table. “I thought I knew Balliol so well, but now that we don’t talk anymore I don’t think I ever knew him at all.”

“Do you want to be friends again?”

“With Balliol?”

“Yeah.”

Sully shook his head and laughed. “You’ve seen him. He’s impossible. I wouldn’t even know where to start with him. He really is impossible,” sully said again.

Chris was coming out of the restroom.

“Are you coming with us on the ski trip?” Sully was asking him.

“I can’t,” Matt played with his straw. “It’s Christmas. I have to go to Mass with my family.”

“My mom never goes to church,” Sully said.

“Well, my mom won’t stop going,” Matt said. “I think she’s probably praying for my soul right now.”

 

[ChrisGibson]

Allison Cromptley screamed Addison’s name down the hall as he was slipping on his coat.

Addison held up a finger, turned around, and Seth followed him.

“Addison!” she screamed again.

“I heard you the first time!” Addison screamed back.

His father’s study door opened and he said, “Addison, what did I tell you about screaming in the house?”

“But Allie—!” Addison began, and then said, “Never mind. And went to get the phone. As the study door shut Addison smacked his sister on the head.

“I’ll tell—” she began, but he began to pinch her so hard as he crooned into the phone, “Hello,” to the phone that she shut up immediately.

“Addison!” it was Andy Rathko’s voice.

“What’s up?” he said smacking Allie on the head and then shooving her away.

“I’ll tell!” she whispered.

“No you won’t,” Addison whispered back with a fiendish look on his face.

“You know Laura Wyler and Jedd Kern?”

“Yeah, the love freaks? What’s up with ‘em.”

“They’re dead.”

“Fuck!”

“What?” Seth mouthed.

Addison took a shallow breath and said, “Hold on, Andy.”

To Seth he said, “Laura Wyler and Jedd Kern are dead.”

“Fuck!” Seth said.

“What happened, Andy?”

“Suicide pact. Can you believe that shit?”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. Adam found them.”

“Adam—?”

“He’s friends with Laura Wyler. He came in the house. There they were with a letter and everything.”

“But it’s Christmas in a few days,” Addison said, and looked outside. Out of a dark grey sky, scraps of white snow were twirling.

“Adam’s at my house,” Andy said.

“Well,” Addison said, trying to find his voice. “We’ll be there. Bye Andy.” Addison hung up the phone and Seth was standing there, fingertips pressed together, mouth open.

“They killed themselves,” Addison told him. “I don’t know why. Adam found the body. I told Andy we’d be there in a few minutes.”

Seth, who had forgotten why they were originally going out but had the truck keys dangling from his index finger, nodded.



“Well, that’s a bad business plain and simple,” Balliol said when he sat down on the couch in Andy Rathko’s house. He’d never planned ot actually be anywhere in Andy Rathko’s house, but see what changes a year could bring, and now this was the second time he’d been here.

“How’s Adam?” Balliol said.

“He really should come here,” Andy said. “He’s just at home, feeling really bad.”

“We could go get him.” Balliol said. “Addison could get the car and pick him up.”

Addison looked at him.

“Well, you could. Honestly,” Balliol told them all. “I’m just not the type of person who likes to sit around. I want to stand up and do something. Especially after some people have done the biggest nothing they could do.”

“They did do something,” Mason joked. “They killed themselves.”

“That,” Balliol repeated, “is the biggest do nothing you could ever do. Putting it all away, cutting it all off. I can’t imagine.”

“Well, now I can,” Mason said.

Balliol looked at him.

“Life isn’t fair. Right?” said Mason. “You’ve got to work for things to turn out right. It’s a struggle and one you didn’t ask for. I can see getting so tired of the struggle, you’d just give in.”

“But they didn’t have a struggle,” Seth said. “They were just weird and gothic. I have troubles, and I’m not killing myself. None of us is. We’re still here.”

“Well maybe the reason we’re still here is because we’re not brave enough to kill ourselves.”

“What are you saying, Mase?” Seth said. “That you have a death wish? That you and me, and everybody here has a secret death wish and those two were just brave enough to carry it out? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Brave enough or honest enough about how they felt,” Mason said.

“Now, listen. I don’t want to die, but there isn’t a person in this room, except maybe Balliol, I haven’t heard say they wanted to die or who didn’t mutter something like ‘kill me now’. And Seth, you’re always going on about how life is pointless and sucks.”

“Maybe this isn’t the time to talk about this right now,” Andy said. “Maybe Balliol’s right. Maybe one of us should go over and check on Adam.

“No,” Seth said. “I think it is the time. To talk about this. I think...” Seth sighed.

“I have said that. I’ve said all of those things. And I do act like I don’t care a lot, but... Yes, I don’t know where I’m going half the time, and I get sick of the world. I get sick of all this a lot, but I don’t want to die. I don’t hate life.”

“Me neither,” Addison said suddenly. “I act like I do. But I don’t hate it. I haven’t given up on it. I… think that it’s worth holding onto.”

“I don’t think any of us has that great of a life,” Balliol said simply. “I’m saying that and I could pay for four year’s school tuition on my credit card. None of us has an ideal life. None of us gets up singing “Zippity Do Dah” in the morning. It’s not a one of us who can’t think of ten things that would make our lives better or ten hundred things that we could afford to get rid of. But we’re here.

“I think we’re here just to prove something,” he said clearing his throat.

“Just to show someone up. Not God. I don’t know, maybe just life in general. Sometimes I do want to throw in the towel. It would be nice. But to give up, to quit... I wouldn’t give the crap in my life the satisfaction!”

“And that’s the thing,” Addison turned to him. “I would have never thought you had crap in your life.”

Balliol shook his head:

“You know what the real thing is? When this year began I wouldn’t have thought I did either. Everything just went naturally, the way it always does. Life was just life. Nothing good and nothing bad was happening, and then, for the first time I’ve actually started to live, and all of a sudden my life isn’t filled with just good things, easy things. It’s filled with bad things and hard stuff too. That’s why I couldn’t give up life. It’s not finished yet. It’s not done. And I hate to leave a task undone.”

“You think life is a task?” said Mason.

“A task. And a test. That’s the way I’ve always felt. I know some people say that they’re just drifting, but... I am not.”

“I thought I was,” Seth said, sounding half asleep. “I thought that’s what I believed in. Drifting, meaninglessness. My dad always told me how life was a gift from God and he told me everything that it meant, everything the Bible and the Church said. But I never believed there was a meaning. I thought he was just saying it all to make himself feel better. But... when I heard they were dead, I knew that I was wrong. There is some sort of meaning.... I don’t know what it is. But I know I’m not going to let myself die until I find out.”



“They were really quiet,” a girl at the restaurant was saying on the news. “You could tell they were really in love. It’s such a shock. It’s really just a shock.”

Another girl said, “It’s right before Christmas. And no one wants this to happen before Christmas. But that’s when the emotions come out, so…” She sounded very world wise, like she wasn’t a sophomore at Magdalene, and Chris knew she was.

He, Mark, Rick Howard and Sully Reardon were watching the news in the living room of the Powers’ household.

“The guy was sort of weird…”

“Oh, God,” Sully murmured as Derrick Kerch, who was on the wrestling squad was interviewed.

1 “I mean Jedd was into Gothic stuff and everything, so it’s not a surprise he offed himself.”

“On that note,” Mark raised the remote control and switched channels. “In my school,” Rick said. “In my own school. Why couldn’t I tell?”

“You can’t know what’s going on with everyone, Dean,” Chris told him.

“I try though,” Rick said. “And one of my students was crying out for help. I didn’t even see.”

“From what the report says,” Mark told him, “he wasn’t crying out that much, and Rick, if their parents couldn’t even tell, how could you?”

“I could have. I could—” Rick looked for something he could have done. “Well, you heard what Kerch said about Jedd. What if it was lots of students saying that day after day? I could have stopped that. That could have led up to what he and that girl did.”

“Laura Wyler was weird too,” Sully said.

They all looked at him.

“She was, “Sully said. “You can’t explain everything, and you can’t make everything better. Some people are just going to do what they’re going to do.”

They continued looking at him and then Mark said, “Sullivan’s right.

“Boys, listen to me,” he told Chris and Sully. “Life is a precious gift from God and you can’t just throw it away. It’s precious.”

“Dad we know,” Chris said.

“Well, I don’t want you to forget. You’re both loved in this household,” Mark told them. He was going to stop at cared for, but maybe Sully wasn’t care for so much at his home. Maybe he needed to know he mattered. “And if either one of you has troubles or thoughts like this… You need to let me know.”

“You’re a shrink, Dad. Don’t you know the signs?”

“I’m serious, Chris,” Mark’s voice was sharp.



In Chris room he told Sully who was changing into his pajamas, “If he wasn’t asleep I’d call up Matt and tell him. Can you believe it? Someone we know—dead. I’ve never been around death before.”

“But your mom…”

“That was different. I mean it happened so long ago, and ... Well, in a way it wasn’t different because it was a shock, but then I knew it was coming. I had a long time to prepare for it. With this it just sort of happened. Kids, our age. Just choosing to kill themselves. Why?”

 

[ChrisGibson]

“Maybe they were just so unhappy,” Sullivan said.

“I don’t understand being that unhappy,” Chris said.

“I do.”

“Sully,” Chris got up and took Sully’s face in his hands.

“Not right now,” Sullivan said, pulling away and trying to laugh. “But before. In the past, I have... Been that sad and lonely, where it just didn’t make a difference. I never went through with it, obviously.

It’s just, people say, when folks do crazy things that they can’t understand why they did them. People can’t put themselves in other people’s shoes. I can. I understand. Maybe it’s because I’ve been sad a lot, or maybe it’s because I’m crazy—”

“You’re not crazy.”

“I think I am. At least a little. But I think it’s because I’m a writer, and I have to be in that place, on that sort of fringe. And when you’re on that fringe, near the craziness, you get why people do things like that.”

“Then why do they do it?”

“Because they think life is meaningless. They think nothing matters.”

“But it’s like Dad said,” Chris said. “It’s gift from God. Life.”

“But it’s hard,” Sully told him. “It’s hard and it’s not fair. And you didn’t ask for it. And people always look for the meaning of it, or for God, but if you don’t feel like looking for that or you’re too tired or you can’t find enough stuff to stop you from thinking about God and meaning, maybe offing yourself in is the only way to go.”

“I never thought of killing myself. Not even when my mom died.”

“Maybe you were too busy to let yourself think about it.”

“No,” Chris said. “I was always taught life has a meaning.”

“But I think it doesn’t,” Sully said.

Chris looked at him, shocked.

Sully looked like he was deciding something. He sat on the bed with a look of great purpose, and then said, “I was taught a lot. And I don’t believe in most of it. I don’t believe that God gives your life a meaning, and I’m not sure I really believe in God.”

“Sully!”

“No, listen,” Sully waved him to silence. “I think it’s no point looking in a Bible or a church or... whatever for meaning. We’re here, and we’re alive and I think we’ve got to find a meaning for ourselves. We’ve got to make life mean something, not wait for some angel to give it to us. And I think that’s what life is about.”



When the boys had gone to bed, Rick and Mark sat on the sofa for a while long and, at last, Mark said, “I can’t believe you’re going with us.”

“Is Chris going to be alright with that?”

“Why wouldn’t he be?”

“Because I’m the dean of the school and his ex football coach.”

“He likes you.”

“And Sully?”

“I’d think Sullivan would be grateful to you. He and Chris wouldn’t even be friends if you hadn’t introduced the two of them.”

“And from what I hear his math grades are pretty good.”

“Yes,” Mark remembered. “That was the whole point of the thing.”

“Yes,” Rick said. “Chris is Sully’s tutor.”

“Sometimes,” Mark said. “Still, I wonder who isn’t teaching who? Or whom whom? I always screw that up.”

Rick shrugged. “English was never my strong suit.”

“I can’t imagine a boy and girl giving up on life, killing themselves. I can’t imagine agreeing to a suicide pact. I can’t imagine making one.”

“Well, Maybe Sully’s right,” Rick said. “Maybe out of the mouths of... teenagers, comes wisdom. Maybe its not such a foreign thought as we are trying to make it. Wanting to die, wanting to end it.”

“No,” Mark allowed after a moment. “You’re right enough about that. But... I’m trying to remember what it was like for me. When Margot died. I felt like that. But I wasn’t searching for a way to die. I was looking for anything that would make me alive, that would let me feel like I wasn’t dead, anything that could get me over... the hump. That’s a cliché, but that’s what I was looking for.

“It just seems like most of the times days work on their own accord. You wake up, day comes, turns to noon, goes back to night. You do it all over again. But when you’re in something like that, when you’re in deep loss, it’s like you exert effort just to make the sun come up, just to open your eyes. Just breathing is a struggle. And it doesn’t matter what you do, as long as you live.”



When Margot died where was Chris? Try as he does to remember, Chris isn’t in any of those memories. There is no son. In fact there is no sun in the sky. everything is grey white, the color of a cloudy day that does not promise rain but will not show the lights.

Sidney is there. Joel is there. The boys aren’t though, none of their sons, the hard clack clack of shoes on the hardwood floor is there. Whenever Joel moves through the house, the sound of his work shoes on those shiny floors is in Mark’s ears, and the sound of Mark’s own shoes, and even though Sidney doesn’t where shoes—except to the funeral—when he is walking around Mark hears that same clack clack. That clack clack clack of the sensible black shoes on the shiny hardwood floor is the only true noise. All other noises are muffled. Children laughing; that’s muffled. His heart in his ears, that’s muffled. Dirt, dirt, dirt on the coffin, that’s muffled too

He drifts. He’s drifting. He drifts to the restaurant where he meets Vanessa. It’s the first time he’s awake. It’s the first coherent memory.

“We broke up in such a bad away,” she’s telling him.

“It doesn’t matter,” he tells he. He’s already told her all about Margot Bello Powers, the woman who gave him the best twelve years of his life. He’s already told her about watching her die.

“Sometimes I felt my life slipping into her with the IV,” Mark said, “and when she was dead, I was gone into her too, exhausted. I never told anyone that.”

She kissed him, simply, on the cheek.

“Sleep with me,” he told her.

“I’m married.”

“I don’t care.”

When she said she was married, it sounded to Mark like really she was testing if he cared or not. Mark knew the marriage couldn’t have been any good or else he never would have violated it. That’s what he told himself.

“I don’t want you all the time. I don’t want another wife. I just want this.” He’s never sure if he actually told her that as he undressed her in the hotel room, or she helped him out of his shirt, his tie, his trousers, his underwear...

What went on he doesn’t think about. It doesn’t make him feel sexy to think of that first time in the hotel room, or getting dressed and going home or when he began to call her. It made him feel sexy back then. When Margot was dying, so was romance, so was love and desire. That last day when the funeral home came she was a hundred pound corpse eaten by cancer, emaciated. Mark felt the same way. He’d felt that way, a walking corpse until that night when he was a desirable man again, when he was sexy and had needs and Vanessa had needs too and they met them in each other.

After that one affair he kept calling her up because he wanted that feeling again, he wanted to hit that moment to hear this woman calling his name, shouting out, crying even at his touch, pulling him inside her. He couldn’t stop calling her. He couldn’t stop fucking her.



“Go to your room,” Sidney said.

Mason, Addison and Tommy didn’t argue with his tone. They just went. You knew better when he used that tone. For Mark that’s the first memory of children, the looks on those boys’ faces. Joel, who had left Seth and Chris with Martha that evening, looked afraid. Mark felt defensive.

“You’re fucking a married woman?”

“Sidney,” Joel’s voice was pleading.

“Don’t Sidney me. I’m not the one who’s having someone else’s wife.”

“I’ll thank you not to take that high tone with me,” Mark said.

“I’ll thank you not to take that high tone with me,” Sidney replied. “Especially when you’re committing adultery. No, I’m sorry. If no one else tells you that’s what it is, I will. And with the woman who tore you apart when you were twenty-two. My God, Mark, you’ve lost your mind.”

“MY WIFE IS DEAD!”

From behind them the door opened. It closed. Mason’s room, the boys wanting to come out, but afraid.

The house was quiet. Joel looked so afraid, He just kept playing with his collar.

“Yes,” Sidney said. “I suppose she is. But... I don’t see that it gives you a go card to break a commandment.”

“I’ll break any commandment I want to. I’ll break all the commandments. What do I care about someone else’s wife? I don’t have mine. What do I care about God’s commandments. He took my wife. Goddamn—Goddamn him... Goddamn...”

Joel’s arms were coming around him when Mark shook them off.

“Don’t,” he snapped at them. “Either one of you. I don’t need any sympathy or condemnation from any of you—”

Either of you—” Sidney corrected automatically and put a hand over his mouth.

Mark’s eyes flared at him.

“One day I will knock you down,” Mark promised darkly, and then turned and walked out of the house.

 

[CharmedFan28]

Wow that was an intense portion! So much going on! I am glad Rick and Mark are trying to be in each other’s lives. Life is too short as sadly demonstrated by the suicide pact. You have given me a lot to think about with this section. Great writing and I look forward to more soon!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Yes, I forgot about the suicide pact, but that was a real event. I'm glad I gave you something to think about, or a fw somethings.

 

[ChrisGibson]

Yes, I forgot about the suicide pact, but that was a real event. I'm glad I gave you something to think about, or a fw somethings.

On the sofa, in his house, beside Rick Howard, Mark said, “We’ll do anything just to keep on living. But to make ourselves die...” he shrugged. “Who can explain desperation?”

Rick, timidly, placed his hand in Mark’s.

Mark squeezed his hand, and then held it in his own.



“You know,” Sidney had mused. “I never realized until now that Mark and I are the same height. The same build. I always thought of him as a little man. But when he said he would knock me down... I don’t know, maybe he could. I’d have to knock him down then,” Sidney went on, “but it might be interesting to see what happened.”

“Sidney, he was really mad.”

“Most people are when they get hit in the face with a dose of truth. And he couldn’t expect it from you, could he, Joel? Really, you Catholics are always going on about sin, but meet a real sin and you avoid it like a plague. Mark’s my friend, and I’m not about to pretend that what he’s doing is smart or good. And… and you just make it worse for me by saying nothing. It’s not even good cop, bad cop. It’s me the bitch and you the good silent friend. That’s too much to put on me.”

The whole time Sidney was straightening up the living room, putting magazines on the tables and picking them back up, refluffling the pillows, accomplishing nothing.

“Mason!” he bellowed. “It’s time for dinner.”

“He’s trying to... get past Margot,” Joel said in a low voice. “He’s occupying himself to escape the pain.”

“You know how he could occupy himself? What are you looking at?” he snapped at the kids. “Go to the kitchen ad don’t even try to eavesdrop.”

Sidney sat on the couch closer to Joel. “You know what he could try? He could try raising his damn kid instead of foisting Chris off with Seth all the time.”

“It’s hard for a single father.”

“You,” Sidney said, “tell me, it’s hard for a single father. Like I don’t know that. Like my wife didn’t decide her art was more important to her and get up and run off without bothering to sign divorce papers. Like I don’t have to explain to Mason every night, your mother’s not coming back because she’s a confused, selfish bitch—”

“You don’t say that to Mason.”

“He asked and that’s what I told him.” Sidney pushed his glasses up. “I don’t have time to mince words and once a bitch has left her pups there’s no making her look good no matter what you say. And here I am learning to cook and clean and vacuum—not having sex with other people’s wives! Though in the past I have had sex with women who are currently other people’s wives, that’s another story. And what do you know about being a single father?”

The look on Joel’s face was half sick.

“Oh, I think I’m going to know very soon,” Joel said.

Sidney’s eyes flew open. His brusqueness was gone.

“What?” he said.

“Martha,” Joel told him. “Kaye and I are over.”

“It was so good. You all were so good.”

“No, no,” Joel said. “Apparently not. Not good enough. She was in bed with John.”

Sidney looked confused. “No, wait a minute. Not your brother.”

“Yes!”

“Shit!” Sidney stood up again enraged. “What is it with people fucking other people’s wives!”

Mason poked his head out of the kitchen, Addison’s head followed. The white boy said, “Honestly, Sid, he couldn’t help hearing that.”

Sidney flashed a look at both boys that made them stick their heads back in the kitchen.

“Joel,” Sidney said. Then, “Joel.” He held his arms out. He went to Joel and hugged him. He let him go.

“So that’s why I’m saying,” Joel continued, “we’ve all been hurt, and sometimes we don’t do the right thing. Sometimes we do what we have to do. We reach for what’s there, and Mark needs to know that... we care about him, and understand. He’s at the bottom right now. My wife didn’t die, but... she’s put me at the bottom. I feel at the bottom right now and I just might do anything. So I understand him.



Joel McKenna shot up out of bed, his heart hammering in his chest, sweat on his brow, rising in beads on his back.

“Joel,” Shelley was half asleep, and then she said, “Joel,” rising up, waking up worried for him.

Joel was breathing so hard in the darkness of Shelley’s room that he couldn’t speak. When he did, he said, “I need to call Seth... need to know he’s okay...”

“What?” Shelley said.

“I had a dream...” Joel crawled out of bed pulling on his briefs, and went to the phone. It kept ringing.

“He’s probably out,” Shelley said.

“Damn,” Joel wailed, suddenly afraid and angry. He hung up the phone. “Damn!” He came back to bed, sitting on the edge.

“Joel,” Shelley climbed over the bed, then climbed off until she was kneeling in front of him and held his face in her hands.

“Joel, darling, you have to tell me what’s going on?”

“I had this dream…” he was shaking his head. “This terrible dream—”

“Was it because of those kids on the news?”

“Maybe,” Joel shrugged. “I don’t know. But... in this dream there was a gun. And there was death. Blood, all of this blood. I couldn’t get it off of me. Kids were dead. I just kept crying, and crying and I was calling out for Seth and I couldn’t find him.” Joel was shaking his head and trembling. “And there was all of this blood all over me.”

He kept breathing, breathing more slowly now. He wanted to pray, he needed to. But he was afraid of God just now.



In the dark, Sully whispered, “Are you still awake?”

“No,”

When Sully said nothing, Chris said, “What, Sully?”

“What was that Dave Riley said?”

“Said about what?”

“When he was leaving he turned around and told Matt, he told all of us, ‘One day I’ll shoot all of you.’”

“Don’t say that.”

“That’s what he said.”

“Don’t say that in the dark. It scares me.”

“It scares me too. I don’t trust that. Trust him. I don’t like to be told someone’s going to shoot me.”

“It was all bullshit. Go to sleep, Sullivan.”

“But you know,” Sullivan said, “it seems like no one thinks life is valuable anymore. Not their own. Why mine, then?”

 

[ChrisGibson]

Sidney squirted the toilet cleanser into the bowl and then scrubbed the toilet while shouting, “Mason!”

Mason came to the bathroom and Sidney said, reading the label. “Did you know that toilet cleanser was poisonous and could cause death if ingested orally.”

“I’d heard that somewhere,” Mason told him.

“I wasn’t sure,” Sidney said. “But since it says it on the bottle, I’m not going to use it for the salad dressing.”

“Which is what you had planned.”

“You know it was,” Sidney said. “That lovely hint of bleach and the blue fluid all over the romaine lettuce and tomatoes. Oh, well, we’ll have to use Caesar instead.”

The doorbell rang and Mason said, “I’ll get it.”

While Sidney went on cleaning the bathroom, which was the way all his thoughts came to him and his mind got sorted out, he could hear from the front of the house that it must be Keisha. He put the toilet brush down and came out to greet his wife.

“I’m here,” she said shoving bags of presents at them both. “What time is everything? When does everyone get here?”

“Everyone’s just Addison and Tommy,” Mason said.

“No Mark. No Chris?”

Ski trip,” Mason said.

“Oh, good, they get on my nerves. I’m sorry Sid,” Keisha said. “They’re too white for me. I feel like I should be eating cornflakes and mopping the floor in pearls and high heels like Donna Reed.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever mopped a floor,” Sidney told her. “in or out of heels.”

Keisha cocked her head to think about this, and then said, “No, I think you’re right. I tried once. But the soap was actually floor wax. That was a disaster.”

“Sit down, Mom,” Mason dragged his mother to the couch so he could have her to himself. He talked to her everyday and went to see her most weeks. He’d long resolved himself to the fact that she was incompetent and incapable concerning anything that existed in realm of traditional motherhood. But then, to Mason, tradition was greatly overrated.

“What about Joel and Seth?” she said to Mason. “I like Seth and he never shows up when Chris is here. Not that I blame him. He’s a weird little boy.”

“Seth and Joel will be here,” Mason reported, “but Seth is feeling weird and, Joel’s got a new girlfriend.” Involuntarily the story about the slip came into Mason’s head. He pushed it away.

“Joel’s got a girlfriend?”

“Yup. For a few months now.”

“Well, good,” Keisha sighed. “It’s about time. You can’t be in mourning forever.”

“Seth may not be his usual self,” Mason warned. “Not that Seth’s self is ever usual.” He told his mother about the suicides and she said, “Just last night?”

“Yes.”

“Just before Christmas?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it is the most depressing time of the year. That’s what they say.”

Keisha turned from Mason and began shouting, which meant she was talking to Sidney now, though Sidney was in the kitchen. “That’s what they say, but I don’t believe it. Easter depresses me.”

“Easter,” said Mason.

“Birth, I’ve been through. Birth isn’t that amazing,” Keisha said. At Mason’s raised eyebrow she said, “What comes out of it may be amazing, but the process in itself is more or less ordinary. But death and resurrection. Now, there have been so many times I’ve gone to Mass on Easter, especially Easter Vigil, after all the music, after all the celebration, and I think, “What’s this all about? How does it make my life different? Christmas is down to earth, literally, I can understand it. But I don’t care how many times they explain Easter to me, I still feel like, good for Jesus, yay Jesus. Gone through all his trouble, risen from the dead. But damnit I’ve still got my shit to deal with, and then there’s no snow on Easter, or if there is there shouldn’t be, so its bad either way And no presents. Just candy. It really gets on my nerves. We should just get rid of the whole thing.”

There was another knock at the door before it was flung open and Savannah strode in followed by Alex, who she introduced to Keisha.

He kissed her hand and said, “Your sister-in-law didn’t do your beauty justice.”

“Hey hey,” Savannah jabbed him with a finger. “Remember which Darrow you’re dating. Come here, girl!” She kissed Keisha. “Are you done promoting that damn book?”

“My book of poetry?”

“Yes, that very one. Yes, that damned book.”

“Yes, I’m finished.”

“Good, now you can be here for awhile and help me with my life. By the way—SIDNEY!”

Sidney came out of the kitchen. “Are we all riding to church later on in Keisha’s car or what?”

“I’m going to take my tricycle—” Alex began.

“Baby, it’s Christmas Eve. No you’re not.”

“Tricycle?” Keisha began.

“Gas is destroying the ozone layer—” Alex began, but Savannah placed a hand over his mouth. She shook her head: “It’s a long story.”

Keisha shrugged.

“I was thinking me and Keisha could ride with Mom and Dad.”

“Me,” Keisha said. “With your mother and father?”

“What wrong with that?”

“Even suggest that again, Sidney Darrow, and we’ll be signing a suicide pact.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Or a homicide pact,” she told him. “That suits me a hell of a lot better.”

 

[ChrisGibson]

“Addison!” Allison screamed as the doorbell rang.

Addison looked at his parents, and then at the door and Mrs. Cromptley said, “I’ll get the door.”

“Addison!” Allison screamed again.

“I’ll get Allie,” Addison said.

He went down the hall to the phone at the table near the bottom of the stairwell and muttered to his sister, “I’ve told you about that,” before punching her in the arm.

“I’ll tell—” but he was pinching her again, and then shoving Allie away.

“Hello,” Addison said.

“Addison?”

The voice was odd. Hollow. Impossible.

“Becky?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“What’s up? How are you? Are you okay—?”

“Look, Addison. I want to make this easy as possible, so let me just say it, okay? Me and Laura are going out of town the day after Christmas.”

“Okay?” Addison said. He didn’t know what that had to do with him. He tried to sound like it mattered.

“Laura Hudson?” he said.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Addison said again.

“God, Addison!” Becky’s voice was desperate now. “God, you don’t understand. Is anyone else on your line?”

“No,” Addison said, looking around just in case someone was.

“Addison, I’m pregnant. But... Just give me till Tuesday, and I won’t be.”

Addison’s whole face was on fire, fire was going up and down him. He was shaking and the world was shaking under him.

Becky just kept talking.

“I’m too young for this. We were too young, and it doesn’t make any sense. I mean, some people aren’t careful. We were totally careful, and for this to happen when I’ve got my life ahead of me and you’ve got your life ahead of you...”

Addison cleared his throat and whispered into the phone as Seth entered the room.

“You’re going to have an.… abortion?”

“Yes, Addison. Yes, that’s what I’m going to do.” She sounded relieved that he had said it for her. As if he himself had just chosen the welcome option she couldn’t quite find.

“Oh... On Tuesday?”

“Yes.”

“Out of town?”

“There’s no clinic in Cartimandua. The closest one in Ogden.”

He didn’t say anything. What was he supposed to say?

“Well,” Addison said, “alright then.”

He dropped the phone into its cradle and looked at Seth.

“What was that all about?” Seth said.

“People trying to sell shit. Even on Christmas Eve.

“This son of a bitch wanted to sell a vacuum cleaner. Said for three easy payments of thirty-nine ninety five it would clean all of our messes right up.”

“Will you boys be back tomorrow?” Mrs. Cromptley asked.

“Yeah,” Addison tucked his hair into the collar of his peacoat. “We’ll stay the night at Sidney’s.”

His mother stood up suddenly and kissed him on the cheek. Then she kissed Seth too.

“You both look so handsome tonight.” She brushed Addison’s hair a little. “My baby grown up,” she said fondly.

She was lying, Addison thought as he headed out the door. He didn’t look handsome at all.



The next morning, Mason said, “Wake up, Addison. It’s Christmas.”

Breakfast was already cooking, and Addison could smell the sausage and the eggs. The Darrows and Alex were in the large kitchen, and he was yawning when he came in. He knew he should feel good. It was Christmas Day. The tree was large and loaded with presents and at Addison’s house there was a tree like this one with good things for him under its branches. But he was tired, he wanted to sleep and keep on sleeping.

“Every time I’m here,” Keisha said, “there’s that wonderful smell coming from Sidney’s stove.”

“Yes,” Mason’s grandmother remarked, going to the oven and pulling out cinnamon rolls. “It’s called cooking. I wouldn’t be surprised that its unfamiliar to you.”

“Now, Liane,” began Mason’s father, but Keisha just laughed and said, “It’s Christmas.”

“Mason, Addison,” Sidney said, “put icing on the rolls.”

“But not too much on mine,” said Keisha.

“Why?” Mrs. Darrow said, looking at the round woman. “Are you watching your weight?”

“As a matter of fact I am,” Keisha said.

“Well, I’ve been watching it for years and years now,” Liane said pleasantly, “And I can’t help but notice it doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.”

Over the rolls, beside Mason, Addison snorted. It was his first smile of the day. Mason just shook his head.

“Sidney, are you going to let your wife be treated like this?” Keisha said to him.

“Sidney has a wife?” Liane said, looking around. “Where? Where? Is there a woman in this house who stays here and takes care of her child? Let me see her and I promise I’ll respect her.”

“That’s enough out of both of you,” Sidney said. reaching for a cigarette.

Liane opened her mouth.

“Whaddit I say, Mama?”

Liane humphed and muttered, “I don’t know why you put up with her.”

“Because I’m good in bed,” Addison heard Keisha say, and choked on the bit of frosting he’d squeezed into his mouth.



Before breakfast was halfway over Tommy arrived in the pickup truck and to everyone’s surprise, Balliol was with him.

“Merry Christmas!” he shouted, and then, looking at Addison. “Well, as merry as Addison’s face will allow. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Yeah, I noticed that too,” Tommy murmured.

“He’s been like that since yesterday,” Mason said.

“What? You all don’t have anything better to do than monitor Addison Cromptley’s facial expressions?”

“We’re your friends,” Mason said. “Of course we don’t.”

“I need you all to come out into Tommy’s truck.” Balliol murmured after saying his good mornings to everyone else. “I have things for you, and I didn’t bring stuff for everyone.”

“Well, of course you didn’t,” said Mason. You didn’t have to bring us anything.”

“It’s not a matter of have to or of course it’s a matter of good taste,” Balliol said. “And good taste dictates that you don’t hand out three presents when there are eight people in the room.”

On the way out Balliol said, “Is that your mom, Mason?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s hot,” Balliol said. “In that full figured way. I like her.”

“She’s great in bed,” Addison commented.

Mason didn’t even touch it. It was the first time Addison had cracked a joke all morning.

 

[ChrisGibson]

From a white bag in the back of the truck Balliol gave out three boxes. Mason’s was a set of clays, paints and a book, an expensive book of the complete works of Michelangelo. Addison had a boxed collection of Led Zeppelin and the Beatles.

I always meant to listen to the Beatles, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

“Well, now you can.”

And Tommy had three Christian music CDs, four tickets to a Christian music concert for some group Mason had never heard of and a new teen Bible.

“How did you now them?” Tommy said, looking at the tickets.

“I listen to you,” Balliol said simply.

“Apparently more than I do,” Mason said.

“I noticed you got four tickets,” Addison said.

“You guys don’t have to go,” Tommy told him.

Balliol mouthed over Tommy’s head, “Yes you do.”

“It’ll be good for my soul,” Addison smirked goofily.

“You know what’ll cheer you up,” Tommy told him.

“Christian music?”

Tommy cocked his head at Addison and said at length, “In your case I’m going to say no. Mason can get out his Bible and read us the Christmas story. It’s Christmas. Jesus is the reason for the season.”

“I hate it when you do that,” Addison said. “Get all slogany and shit.”

“Jesus is the answer,” Tommy said solemnly.

Addison raised an eyebrow at him.

“He would have died for you if you were just the only one.”

Addison slugged Tommy in shoulder, then they both looked at each other before bursting out into laughter and heading back into the house together shoving each other.

“What happened to turn the other cheek?” Mason heard Addison say as he entered the living room, and Tommy replied, “I only got too cheeks, then you better watch out.”



In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus

that all the world should be enrolled.

This was the first enrollment, when Quirinius

was governor of Syria.

And all went to be enrolled, each to his own city.

And Joseph also went up from Galilee,

from the city of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David,

which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house

and lineage of David, to be enrolled with Mary,

his betrothed, who was with child.

And while they were there, the time came for her to be delivered.

And she gave birth to her firstborn son and

wrapped him in swaddling cloths, and laid him in a manger,

because there was no place for them in the inn.



Mason paused. In his room he stubbed out his cigarette.

“Why’d you stop?” Tommy said.

“Because we shouldn’t be smoking when Jesus comes into the world.”

“Oh,” Tommy said. “Right.”

Even Addison took one final drag, and then crushed out his cigarette.



“And in that region there were shepherds out in the field,

keeping watch over their flock by night.

And an angel of the Lord appeared to them,

and the glory of the Lord shone around them,

and they were filled with fear. And the angel said to them,

‘Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you good news

of a great joy which will come to all the people;

for to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior,

who is Christ the Lord.

And this will be a sign for you: you will find a babe

wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.’

And suddenly there was with the angel

a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying,



Tommy opened his mouth and said it, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men with whom he is pleased!”



Mason continued, but it was Balliol who mouthed him word for word, remembering. Addison felt himself shivering. He couldn’t explain. He didn’t believe. Not really.



“When the angels went away from them into heaven,

the shepherds said to one another,

‘Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has

happened, which the Lord has made known to us.’

And they went with haste, and found Mary

and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.

And when they saw it they made known

the saying which had been told them concerning this child;

and all who heard it wondered at what the shepherds told them.

But Mary kept all these things, pondering them in her heart.

And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising

God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

And at the end of eight days, when he was circumcised,

he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel

before he was conceived in the womb.”



“And then King Herod comes,” Addison said.

“No,” said Balliol. “That’s in a different Gospel.”

“It’s in Matthew,” Tommy said. “Herod doesn’t want Jesus. He’s afraid, and so he kills all the babies.”

Addison’s voice was a breath:

“Why?”

Mason looked at him.

“Why?” said Addison. “Why did he do that? Why is that in the story? Why ruin it with Herod killing all those babies.”

“Because that’s the way it happened,” Tommy said. “The Bible can’t lie.”

Mason opened his mouth, and then Addison turned to him and shook his head.

“No,” Addison’s voice was scarcely audible. “He did it because... the baby was in the way. It interrupted everything. It…. shouldn’t come.”

They all looked at him.

“It was in the way,” Addison said.

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was an excellent portion. Between suicide pacts and an abortion there is a lot going on. I might read all this a few more times before the next portion comes out. Great writing and I look forward to more.