Split (9 page)

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Authors: Mel Bossa

BOOK: Split
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“Plenty of girls wanna kiss you.”

“Right. Na-na-name one. And Lene doesn’t count.”

Boone rubbed his chin and looked up to the ceiling. He didn’t say anything for at least five minutes.

“Well?” I insisted. “Na-name one.”

Boone slapped his thigh and then smiled like he had won an Olympic gold medal. “Sue Ellen.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Your cousin-in from Oslo?”

“That’s right. Remember, she kept trying to get you to go in the shed with her?”

I remember. She didn’t have a neck or knees, and her face looked like yellow
Play-Doh. “That doesn’t co-co-count either.”

“Why not?”

“Just doesn’t.”

Boone folded his arms around his chest. “You wanna watch
Top Gun
?”

“You’re kidding, right? Boone, no-no.”

“So what then?”

“Dunno.”

Boone’s face lit up. “You wanna make prank phone calls? We could do the one where I pretend I’m being murdered.”

Boone is the best at prank calls. One time, he actually had a woman in tears.

“You don’t think we’ll ge-get in trouble?” I asked, remembering my pledge to Aunt Frannie.

“We’ll get the phone from the kitchen and plug it in down here. Mom’s doing the neighbor’s nails tonight and Dad’s watching TV, so…”

“What about-bout Nick?”

“Nico? He’s with Dave. He won’t come home until we’re sleeping.”

Disappointment and relief were rolling around inside my gut. “Oh. What are they do-doing?”

“Dunno. They go by the river a lot. So, anyways, why do you keep asking me about my brother all the time?”

My eyes darted up. Saliva got caught in my throat. “I don’t. I wa-was just making  conversa-sation. I don’t care what your brother do-does. I mean, what’s it to me—”

“Yeah, you do. Don’t lie. You’re always looking at him.”

My heart beat in all different directions. “I never loo-look at him.”

“Yeah, you do.” Boone casually got to his feet, then turned the TV on. “It doesn’t matter if you do, I don’t care.” He popped the
Top Gun
cassette into the machine. “You can play with my GI Joes if you like. I’m gonna watch this.”

GI Joes
?

I haven’t played GI Joes since last year. And I wasn’t even playing really, I was just lining them up and shooting them down with a rubber band. “Fine,” I said, “I’ll be-be in your room,
not playing
.”

I went to his room and plopped down on the bed.

I stared at the ceiling for a long time. Finally, I got Boone’s GI Joes out of the shoe box and lined them up. Then I heard some noise.

Voices.

I tensed my neck. It was Nick, and David was with him. I shot my last soldier down and went to the door. I heard Nick’s bedroom door shut and the voices became muffled, but I could still hear them talking through the wall that separates the boys’ rooms. I couldn’t make out all the words, on account of Johan doing an excellent job on the isolation in the basement.

I tried going back to preparing the second battalion for combat, but couldn’t concentrate. I kept trying to hear what they were saying. Once in a while, I would hear Nick or David laugh, then it would get quiet again.

Before too long, my curiosity got the best of me.

I rose and crept out of Boone’s room. Boone was in the playroom. He couldn’t see me standing in the small hallway that connects the two bedrooms and the bathroom.

I stood between Boone’s door and Nick’s.

Now that I was closer, I could hear a little better.

I heard David’s voice first. “Why not?”

They were playing some music.

“Stop,” whispered Nick. I could barely hear him.

I stood stiff with my back against the wall, listening to them whisper to each other.

“You keep saying you wanna get out of here, Nick, this is your chance. If you come with me, we could—”

“I told you already. No, Dave.” Nick’s voice had risen over the music. He sounded tense.

“Why? I’ve got a job lined up and my friend says—”

“A job? You don’t even know what kind of place that club is.” Nick had lowered his voice again. “And you’re gonna dance there?” I heard a thump, and then Nick said, “You’re so fucking naïve, Davie. One day you’re gonna get yourself into something you won’t be able to get out of.”

There was a long silence, and I almost changed my mind.

Then I heard David again. “That’s why you should come out there with me.”

The music had stopped, and I held my breath, pressing my back to the wall, with my ear tuned to their private conversation.

“Nick.” David’s voice had a strange sound to it. Like he was hurting. “I need you.”

My heart skipped a beat.

Had he really said that?

David was getting upset. “I can’t do this alone, but Nick, I can’t stay here one more minute, I can’t stand my life here. You don’t know how bad it gets sometimes. You don’t have to go to Loyola, you don’t have to put up with that shit, I swear, Nick, I’ll fucking kill myself if—”

“You shut the fuck up.” Nick whispered, but his voice was hard. “Don’t say shit like that. You’re too good for that. You got talent, Dave, you got something at least, something to shoot for.” He paused, and then spoke again. Softer. “What the fuck do I have, huh? I can’t even read this piece-of-shit book—”

“Nick, no, that’s not true and you know it. You have everything going for you. I think you’re the most beautiful—” But David stopped.

I hadn’t taken one single breath.

I opened my mouth to let some air in and closed my eyes. I don’t know why I felt so weak. There was something in David’s voice that made my belly feel tight and warm.

I kept hearing those three words in my head.

I need you. I need you. I need you.

My cheeks were hot.

Then I heard Nick whisper again. “They’re gonna kick me out. Cause of the knife. She’s gonna flip when I tell her. My dad…Oh fuck, Davie, what’s he gonna think of me, you know?” Nick’s voice dropped to a whisper again. “I don’t know what to do…I just don’t know anymore—”

“Nick. Oh Nick. Come here.”

I couldn’t even swallow anymore. They were barely whispering now. I took a step closer to Nick’s door.

“Don’t, Dave.” I heard Nick say.

“Why? Why can’t I just put my mouth —”

“No.” Nick’s voice was sharp and brutal. “Enough.”

“Why? Damn it, Nick. One day it’s yes, the next is no.” David’s tone had changed. He was whining. “You can’t keep doing this to me. You’re killing me. Look at me. Look how—”

“Get out.”

Though it wasn’t meant for me, I jumped at the sound of that order and leaped back to Boone’s room with my heart in my throat. I shut the door behind me and leaned up against it. My breaths were uneven, and I couldn’t seem to get the rhythm right. My eyes pulsed inside my head.

I slid down the door and sat with my head resting between my knees.

I listened.

Had David left?

No. He was still in Nick’s bedroom. They weren’t talking, though. I couldn’t hear a thing. Except for the music. They had turned it back on.

I couldn’t get that tightness in my belly to go away.

And it wasn’t just my belly anymore.

That warm feeling had moved down into my privates.

I decided to go to the bathroom.

I hurried down the hall, and on the way, I listened for any voices, but heard none. Just music.

I locked myself up in the bathroom and sat on the counter with my back to the mirror.

That’s when it happened.

My penis was swollen, like in the morning, but even if I wore my loose pajama bottoms, they still felt too tight. I didn’t really wanna touch it, because I know it’s a dirty thing to do. Mom says you only touch it when you wash, but I couldn’t just leave it inside my pants, it was starting to throb.

What could I do?

The door was locked.

I checked it twice.

I only touched it a little. Just the tip because it was wet.

I need you.

My penis twitched inside my fingers and I shivered.

My knees bent.

I cleaned myself up with toilet paper and flushed three times, but even after I had washed my hands, I could still smell that hot stuff on my fingers. I went back to Boone’s bedroom and lay down.

I felt very tired all of a sudden.

Boone came in later and climbed on top.

He has a bunk bed and it squeaks a lot.

“Are you asleep?” he asked.

“I wa-was a little, but not really.”

“Sorry ’bout what I said.”

“It’s okay.”

“Do you wanna go for a bike ride down by the river tomorrow morning? We could try to find a turtle.”

“Yes.”

“Derek?”

“Yes?”

“I think my brother’s gonna run away soon.” Boone’s voice was full of doom. “I know it. He’s gonna leave, and he won’t say good-bye.”

I tensed up. “He wouldn’t.”

“Yes, he would. You don’t know Nick.”

“I hope he-he stays,” I whispered, half for myself.

 

*

 

Nathan is in Toronto this weekend.

Some sales conference. I swear, if it weren’t for salespeople, the hotel and food industry would go bankrupt.

“Be good,” he said as he walked out the front door. “I’ll call you tonight. Have a good time with your folks.”

A good time with my folks.

That’s like asking me to enjoy guilt-free anal sex.

I was there tonight, at my parents’. Mom looked well. Dad, not so much, but he always looks like he’s been sleeping under a train on Sunday evenings.

“Aunt Fran passed by this afternoon.” Mom scooped some instant mashed potatoes on my plate. “Poor thing.”

There’s nothing poor about Aunt Fran.

“Says she’s been thinking about reuniting with God.”

I smashed some fried onions into my potatoes.

When Aunt Fran reaches the Pearly Gates, I have a feeling God’s going to ask her to hurry up before he changes his mind.

“Have you been to church lately?”

I glanced up.

Me?

“Father Neil was asking about you this morning.”

Well. I’m sure he would love to bless Nathan’s and my homosexual marriage.

“Maybe you should pass by the presbytery, you know, say hello. He’d like that.”

Yes. And we can discuss Sodom and Gomorrah.

“Dolores,” snapped Dad, causing the mush to stick in my throat, “why don’t you leave the boy alone.”

Mom’s eyes hardened. “Just trying to get our boy to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, that’s all.”

Holy shit.

I giggled.

“Derek! I worry about your soul!”

Yes yes, I know. So do I.

I’d like to know where it went.

“I want you to go to Father Neil and repent. Confess your sins.”

“Dolores. Enough!” Some potatoes flew out of Dad’s mouth.

“But, John, don’t you want —”

“Enough, woman. Let us eat in peace.”

Whenever Dad calls Mom “woman,” I’m always inclined to look under the table to check for shackles on her ankles.

“Well,” said Mom, gathering our full plates. “At least I’ve made my peace with Our Heavenly Father.” She set them in the sink. “You two are on your own.”

Dad shot an uneasy glance my way, then shrugged.

I leaned back into my chair.

Why not throw a little liquid nitrogen on these open wounds. “Mom, Dad—”

Needless to say, the announcement of Nathan’s and my engagement didn’t go very well. Mom went through two boxes of
Kleenex and Dad emptied the bar. I helped him a little. But it’s done. Out of the way. I think they may even come.

By the door, Mom traced her finger along my chin. “Baby, I don’t know why you’re the way you are. Don’t know if it’s a malformation or some kind of mental disease, but I love you, regardless of it.”

Malformation.

“I don’t understand you, Derek. You’re so handsome. Smart too. You could have any woman you want. You could give us grandchildren.”

Oh no, mother, this disastrous gene pool stops here.

“I love you, honey.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

“Yes?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

 

*

 

Nathan has hired a wedding planner.

The boy is gayer than a bag of Skittles.

He doesn’t breathe, he hyperventilates. I can’t stand being in the same room with him for more than three minutes.

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