aterovis_bleedinghearts.pm6 (10 page)

“Yeah, there were three of them all together. Each one printed out on a computer. Virtually untraceable, anyway, so they wouldn’t have really led to anyone, but they could at least be taking the idea of murder more seriously. They didn’t even take the letters. They were nasty, hateful. They said things like ‘God hates fags’

and ‘Go away. We don’t want queers here.’”

“The police said if they were death threats they would have taken them into consideration,” Steve chipped in.

“How did he get them?” I asked.

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“They were stuffed in his locker at school.”

“So it had to be someone at school!” I exclaimed. “See, you do need me to help. Where else can you get inside information from the school? I was Seth’s only friend; it’ll be natural for me to be asking questions.”

“It’s not safe, Killian,” Asher said again. He sounded a little worried. I had almost forgotten he was even there, he’d been quiet for so long.

“Well, actually,” Steve began as we all turned to look at him, “if you just stick to general questions, it can’t hurt anything. It’s not likely to be anything more than a mugging, but on the off chance that it is, I doubt they will do anything to hurt Killian if they didn’t when they had their chance the first time.”

We all sat in silence for a few minutes thinking about what Steve had said. Finally Adam nodded.

“Okay,” he said, “If you promise to be careful and not do anything stupid or obvious, you can ask some questions. But check in with us every day and don’t go off half-cocked.” He turned to Asher. “And you, please keep an eye on him. If anything happens to either one of you, I don’t think I could live with myself.”

“Killian is looking a bit tired,” Steve said, “Maybe you should get him home Asher.”

“Yeah, I am feeling a little drained,” I admitted. “Although I can’t say I’m looking forward to dealing with my father when I get home. You should be able to hear the fireworks from here.”

“Your father was here?” Adam asked me. “I must admit that surprises me.”

“It’s an election year,” I joked half-heartedly.

We all stood up and exchanged hugs this time around instead of handshakes, and Asher and I started off for home. When we arrived, Dad’s car was parked next to Mom’s in the driveway. Asher parked behind Mom and turned off the car. We both sat there in silence for a few 82

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minutes, neither of us wanting to face what was waiting for us inside.

“Do you ever wonder why you drive on a parkway and park on a driveway?” I asked no one in particular.

Asher, being the wise person that he is, chose not to answer that, but instead got out of the car and came around to help me out. We approached the front door with more than a little trepidation. Before he opened it, Asher wrapped his arms around me for a brief hug. We barely had the door closed behind us when Dad stepped into the hallway, Mom a few steps behind him. I could tell by the look on Mom’s face that this wasn’t going to be pretty. I braced myself for the barrage.

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“Asher,” Dad said in that horrible controlled voice of his, “I think it would be best if you went on home now.

Your dad’s waiting for you. We just got off the phone.”

Asher shot me a look that was easier to read than a book. He was terrified.

“Yes, sir,” he said softly, and turned and left. Now I was left standing alone facing my father. I still hadn’t even got out of the entrance hall.

“You,” Dad said, “What were you doing at that place today?”

“I felt like I should go,” I said firmly.

“You felt like you should go?” he mocked. “Well isn’t that nice, Meg?” He addressed this to my mother. “You waited till your mother was gone and then you and Asher couldn’t get out of here quick enough.”

I decided that this wasn’t a good time to point out that I’d had no way of knowing that Mom was going anywhere this morning, so it wasn’t like it had been planned.

“I left you alone after the whole stabbing incident at your mother’s insistence,” he growled this as if the

‘whole stabbing incident’ was my fault, “but this is too much. I want answers and I want them now. How could you publicly humiliate me like that? There must have been reporters from three different newspapers in at-84

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tendance and you sit on the front row. Then if that isn’t enough, you stand up and make your little tear-jerking speech. That’s going to be all over the place in the morning.”

I was warmed by his concern for the family of the deceased. He was making me more and more angry by the second, but I struggled to remain silent.

“Start explaining, and let’s start with the park. I find out today that you were friends with that...that faggot Connelly boy after I explicitly told you to stay away from him.”

“You can’t tell me who I can and can’t be friends with,” I said matching him in the control department. I had learned well.

“Yes...I...can,” he was starting to lose his veneer of control and I was loving it. “That’s why I’m the father and you are not. You were going to meet him that night, weren’t you?”

“Yes I was,” I told him defiantly.

“Then you deserved what you got,” he snarled, for the first time losing control. He took three large steps towards me, covering the entire length of the hallway in those few strides, and struck me across the face open-handed. I reeled backwards into the door and slid down to the floor. I vaguely heard Mom screaming in the background, but the ringing in my ears almost deafened me.

“I won’t have my son associated with faggots,” he bellowed over me.

I looked up at him with all the hate and contempt that I felt for him at the moment and he actually took an involuntary step back when he looked at me. “I will associate with who I want to associate with,” I spat out.

It was almost like someone else speaking.

With an animal-like roar he reached down and yanked me to my feet, only to strike me again, this time with a closed fist. I slammed into the door and slid to 85

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the floor once again. This time I tasted the metallic taste of blood. Mom shrieked again and tried to get to me, but Dad shoved her back roughly.

“You listen to me and you listen to me well, boy,” he rasped, “I’m telling you to stay away from that Connelly man. You stay away from Asher Davis from now on too. I don’t know why he helped you, what you did to make him take you, but you are not to see him anymore. If I find out you’ve been sneaking around again, this beating will look like fun. This is my house and you will respect what I say.”

“Fuck you,” I screamed at him, “You think you can just beat me and I’ll respect you? You lost that a long time ago.”

He jerked me up again and held me for a second, suspended in the air. Once again, time slowed down in that eerie way it has of doing at important moments, as if to underline their importance. I could hear Mom moan-ing softly behind him, a low keening sound. I was only inches from Dad’s face. I could see each vein as it bulged and the fury in his eyes. A small rivulet of spittle made its way down his chin from the corner of his mouth.

The pain in my face and stomach was intense, but somehow it only served to sharpen my senses.

In that instant that I hung in mid-air and he drew back to strike me yet again, I made a decision.

“Guess what?” I gasped, “I’m gay.”

Everything froze. Before, time seemed to slow down.

But now it stopped completely. Mom fell silent. Dad’s fist ceased its swing. We all held our positions, a strange tableau of the dysfunctional family in the 90’s.

Then suddenly, it all shifted. Dad released his grip on me and I collapsed. His fist dropped to his side, although it remained clenched. For a moment, all remained silent. Then he looked down at me. For a brief second, I could read utter hatred in his eyes, but then 86

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they went dead, as if someone had flipped a switch.

“Get out of my house,” he whispered. “Get your stuff and get the hell out. I never want to see you again. You are not my son.” Then he drew back and kicked me so hard I rolled across the floor. I heard his footsteps retreating, then I heard the back door slam shut.

Mom was at my side before he was halfway to the door.

“Oh God,” she wept, “I’m so sorry, Killian. I’m so sorry.”

I tried to sit up, but the pain was excruciating. My vision blurred and suddenly I wasn’t in my hallway with my mother weeping over me. I was lying on the ground by the pond once again with a murderer bend-ing over me, knife raised ready to plunge. I screamed and struck out.

“Killian!” Mom’s frightened voice brought me back to the house. “Do we need to go to the hospital?”

“Yes,” I managed to gasp, but she was too small to lift me and I was in too much pain to help.

“Should I call an ambulance?” she asked me. I don’t know when I got to make all the decisions, but I was glad she asked me this time.

“Call Adam Connelly,” I said through gritted teeth.

She looked at me blankly for a moment. “Seth’s dad,”

I added.

“Oh, but I don’t know his number,” she said, running to the phone. She dialed information and had them connect her.

I faded in and out after that. I remember Adam arriving and cursing a great deal. He lifted me like a doll and we were off to the hospital, my second trip in as many weeks. I vaguely remember the hospital and a doctor telling Mom that I was fine overall. Amazingly enough, the wound hadn’t reopened. I did, however, have some bruised ribs and a few contusions. He also 87

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told her that I had had a psychosomatic episode; that I had reverted back to the night of the stabbing and experienced it all over again, even to the point of believing I was there. He said it was similar to what war veter-ans experienced.

In the end they released me, and Mom and Adam decided that I would go home with Adam. We decided not to file any charges and just said that I’d been beat up by a gang of bullies. Mom kissed me good-bye at Adam’s car and promised she would bring my clothes and stuff I needed tomorrow and we would sort things out. I was too tired at the moment, since the painkillers that they had given me were starting to kick in. My last conscious thought was that I sincerely hoped Asher had made out better than I had.

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I awoke to a strange room and for a few moments I was very disoriented before I remembered what had happened the night before and where I was. I sat up and gingerly felt around my ribs. Definitely sore, but I could live with that. I took time to look around the room since I hadn’t before. I caught my breath as I realized where I was. Adam had settled me into Seth’s room. It unmistakably had his mark. There were track trophies on a shelf and posters on the wall proclaimed “Gay and Proud!” and “Stop the Violence!” My eyes were especially drawn to a poster from the MTV campaign “Fight for Your Rights: Take a Stand Against Violence!” Nearby was a smaller poster of Matthew Shepard with the dates 1976-1998 printed at the bottom. The irony was so thick it was sickening.

Just then someone knocked lightly on the door.

“Yes?” I called.

“I take it you’re awake?” Adam called back through the door.

“Yes, you can come in.” I said, and so he did.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Well, I’ve been better, but I could’ve been worse.

Over all, I’m okay.”

“Good! Your mom is on her way over with some stuff for you. I told her and I’m telling you, you are welcome 89

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to stay here as long as you need to.”

“Thank you, Adam. This means so much, I don’t know how to even tell you...” I choked up and had to stop.

“There’s no need to thank me, Killian. I would have wanted someone to do the same thing for Seth if he found himself in the same situation.” He pointed to the Fight for Your Rights poster, “I’m going to do everything in my power to stop the kind of violence that took my son’s life and sent you to the hospital twice now. I can’t do much, but I can offer you shelter and care when you need it the most. My house is now your house. Seth would have wanted it that way.”

I nodded, too overcome with emotion to even speak.

The doorbell chimes broke the moment and Adam hurried off to answer it. He was back in a few minutes with Mom...and Asher.

Mom noticed my eyes light up when I saw him and she broke into a grin.

“He insisted on coming along, I guess I made the right decision in letting him,” she joked. After greetings and hugs were over she asked me, “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

“A little sore, but I’m okay,” I told her, “How are you?”

“Your father never came home last night, which is just as well. I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I’m going to see a lawyer this afternoon.”

I turned to Asher, “What about you?”

He broke into a grin, “You won’t believe it!”

“Well, while you get filled in, Adam and I are going to get your stuff out of the car,” Mom jumped in quickly before Asher could go on.

After they had left Asher settled down on the bed next to me. “‘K, now tell me all about what I’m not gonna believe,” I said, snuggling up next to him.

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“Wow, you really seem to be feeling better,” he said.

“That pain medicine is good stuff. I’m sure I’ll be hurting when it wears off. Now talk.”

“It’s my dad. I told him I was gay...and he was fine with it. Well, maybe fine with it is a little strong, but he didn’t freak out. It turns out my Uncle Rick is gay. I never even knew it. But anyway, Dad and Uncle Rick have always been close so it didn’t weird him out too bad.” He said all of this without taking a breath.

Meanwhile, I was stunned. Not only had Asher come out to his parents, but they were okay with it too. Asher took advantage of my speechless state to sneak a quick kiss. I looked at him in surprise for a moment; I still wasn’t used to him kissing me. Suddenly I decided to throw all caution to the wind. I reached up with one hand and pulled his face to mine while my other arm snaked around his waist. I kissed him much more force-fully than we had kissed before. It was a slow, sensual kiss. I felt his tongue against my lips and I parted them.