The Valedictorian - 5. Taking Root

Last paragraphs of chapter 4:

“No doubt. But so what? That crackpot religion doesn’t even exist anymore.”

“Don’t you get it? Her parents were followers of that cult. What if they still believe that kind of shit.”

I filled in the missing words. “Then Shawn could have suffered some of the same conflicts David had.”

With that frightening thought in my brain, I fall into an uneasy sleep.

I awake on Saturday with the germ of an idea. Don wakes up with a different idea. I decide my idea can wait. I thoroughly enjoy Don making love to me this morning. Can you make love too many times? Maybe it depends on the individual. Luckily for us, I had my sex-teeth cut with marathon weekends at Matty’s when I was only a freshman. There is no such thing as too much sex for Chuck, which gives me the fugitive thought of getting too little sex at Yale. That would make me cranky. It is another reason why our relationship has to end when our physical separation becomes three thousand miles.

After showering, we visit the kitchen to make some breakfast. Don, of course, has some kind of weird-looking stuff he calls Muesli. I’m not sure what it is, but I certainly don’t trust it – looks like maybe grasshoppers are in it. Mrs. Nelson keeps a supply of safe-to-eat breakfast food like bacon and eggs, which is what I begin to prepare. Before the bacon is ready, Paul walks in.

“Any news?”

“No, Chuck. Not yet.”

“Want some bacon and eggs?”

He looks over at Don’s bowl, wrinkling his nose. “Please. I’d appreciate some eggs.”

Don doesn’t bat an eye at this fraternal judgment.

“Paul, please don’t take this the wrong way, but is there any possibility Shawn might be gay?” That question does get Don to look up.

Paul says, “Why do you ask?” I notice he isn’t shocked and doesn’t deny it.

“Last night, Don and I remembered that Martha was in that same crackpot church that tried to kill David four years ago. Have you been around his family much? Are they hyper-religious?”

I place a loaded plate in front of him but see his eyes are beginning to fill. He takes a quick peek at Don, and then returns his gaze to me. He speaks quietly.

“Yes, they are. In fact, I haven’t been to his house since around Christmas. It was when his mother told him to stay away from me. She …um, because of Don, she didn’t want him to hang around with me.”

Don drops the spoon into his bowl. He stands up, the chair scraping back on the floor. “What the fuck?!”

“Language, Don!” Mrs. Nelson comes rushing into the kitchen.

“Did you hear what he said?”

“I only heard what you said, and that was bad enough!” Don’s mother looks at him crossly.

“Shawn’s mother told him to stay away from Paul because I’m gay!”

She looks at Paul. “Is that true?”

“Yes.” He barely squeaks it out.

Don’s not finished. “Why didn’t you tell me? This has been going on since Christmas? Didn’t you see that as a problem?”

Now a stricken look falls over Paul’s face. No, no, no! I can’t let him blame himself for Shawn’s suicide attempt! I have to intervene.

“Sit down, Don!” I give my boyfriend a dirty look, then turn to Paul.

“Paul, don’t think for one minute you had anything to do with what Shawn tried. You still hung out with him, didn’t you?”

“Yep. He wasn’t going to let her break-up our friendship. I just never went over there. He’d come here or we’d spend time at Kory’s, with his sister around. She thought it was stupid too.”

“OK. Eat your eggs. We’ll work something out. I’ve been thinking about a lot of stuff since last night. You know, there’s an eerie parallel between Shawn and David when he got so depressed a few years ago. One common thread is that fundamentalist religious mindset.” I look at Mrs. Nelson. “Did you know Shawn’s family went to the same church David’s mother made him attend?”

Now she suddenly seems concerned. “Really? How do you know?”

“Martha. David mentioned Martha was forced to go to a bible study he attended once. Don’t you see? Clearly, it’s the same ridiculous thinking. That’s why I asked Paul if it was possible Shawn might be gay. It would explain an awful lot.”

Paul wants to speak. I wait until he swallows. At least I got him to eat some breakfast, although mine is starting to get cold. I dip toast into my egg and take the first bite.

“Actually, I think he is gay.”

Don asks, “He never told you?”

“Don, don’t you understand? He couldn’t even tell himself. But he’s been my best friend forever – I knew.”

Swallowing, I look at Mrs. Nelson. “Something’s got to be done. This town has no suicide hotline. There’s nowhere for these kids to turn. No one they feel safe to talk with. This isn’t the least bit healthy. I’m going to pay a visit to Twoey’s mother this weekend and get her input. She’s a psychologist.”

“Is Sarah’s little accusation eating at you?” Don has a cat-that-ate-the-canary look on his face.

“Shut up! Let me finish my breakfast.”

~*~

Later that afternoon, we’re at the beach. I’m lying on a blanket. Don comes running up from the lake, grabs a towel and begins to dry off.

“Why don’t you take a dip?”

“Are you crazy? It’s May. That water is frigid!”

“Hey! I was just in. It’s refreshing!”

“I’m happy for you.”

Don stretches out next to me. It is a beautiful and sunny day, in the mid-seventies. If the water temperature were about twenty degrees warmer, I’d be in too.

“So, you’re thinking of a suicide hotline?”

“No. I’m thinking much bigger than that. This town has a disease.”

Don has no answer.

“I’m going to change my name.”

Now he sits up. “What?”

“I’ve been thinking about it all week.”

“Well, don’t change it to ‘Don.’ We’d get confused.”

“You idiot.”

“All week? This must have something to do with your brother, Carl.”

“Actually, it has more to do with my brother, Danny.”

“I never really knew Danny at all. He was from the other side of town and I don’t think I ever met him.”

“I never met him either, but I did watch him in the cafeteria those first few weeks of my freshman year, until – y’know.”

“You perved on your own brother?”

“No. Geez! But when watching his lunch table, I couldn’t help but notice how we looked so much alike.”

“And you were looking at him in the cafeteria because?”

“I was perving on David.”

Now Don breaks out laughing.

“Anyway, I was thinking about some things Carl told me. He said Danny emailed him twice a week and unloaded all his worries and concerns. In Carl’s words, it was like a confessional. He left me with the impression Danny was able to function because he had that outlet – someone to talk to – someone who would support him and offer advice. Danny was lucky in that respect. If it weren’t for the chance discovery that fatal night, I have no doubt Danny would have survived until he was old enough to escape his situation. That’s what this town needs. Something any kid can turn to. Something that will allow them to survive. Suicide happens when your mind says there is no way to survive. We have to make sure we can provide that hope.”

Don is thinking seriously now. “I’m not sure you can categorize all suicides that way, but I do like your thinking. This would actually be a pre-suicide hotline. Some type of mental escape valve. I think you may be onto something there, love.”

We settle back into enjoying the warm afternoon. I want to purge my mind of all thought. And I do, simply relishing the nearness of the boy I love, for as long as the time left to us permits.

A growl from his stomach breaks the song of the seagulls and the peace of the afternoon. “Someone’s hungry. What time is it?” My eyes refuse to open.

“Nearly five.”

“Oh, wow. The afternoon’s already gone. Am I staying over tonight too?”

“Please?”

“Of course I will, but I need to text my mom.”

“Already done.”

“Aren’t you Mr. Efficiency today. I wonder if there’s any news on the Shawn front.”

“There is. I guess Paul is in contact with Martha. He texted me saying that Shawn is stable and will survive.”

“I guess you have been busy today! Any other news I should know?”

“Dad’s grilling supper: hotdogs and hamburgers. You’ll be in pig’s heaven.”

“Did I ever tell you how much I like your dad?”

We arrive at his house and I immediately head to the backyard while Don goes inside. Mr. Nelson is dumping real charcoal into the big kettle-grill. I’m already salivating and he hasn’t even started the fire yet. Paul is sitting on a lawn chair. I pull one up next to his, but rub the back of his neck before I sit down.

“How are you doing?”

“Better today, now that I know he’s going to be alright. God, I almost lost it yesterday. Thanks for being here, Chuck. I think your presence kept me from going over the edge.”

“Hey, any time you need me, I’m only a call away – even when I’m at college. Never forget that. I’m always there for you.”

“Martha told me she had a big fight with her parents.”

“Why does she even still live there?”

“For Shawn. She thought she could prevent what happened.”

“A big fight?”

“Yeah. I guess they were grumbling about what a wuss he was. They were trying to get him to attend some conversion clinic to be freed from his ‘sin,’ as they put it. I guess he agreed, just to get them out of his face. She thinks at that point he had already made up his mind to take his life. As soon as they left for dinner, he cut his wrists, right there in the living room. If Martha hadn’t come home early, he’d be dead.”

“And the fight?”

“Oh, yeah. They were complaining that he was such a sinner. He went from the sin of homosexuality to the sin of suicide. They were beside themselves with upset. Not that they almost lost their son, the fuckers, but that they were saddled with such a sinner because they were so pious. They couldn’t understand why they were so cursed. That’s when Martha told them Shawn broke no commandment but that they had almost broken a commandment. When they looked clueless, she explained that their bigotry made them guilty of wielding the knife that almost killed her brother. I think she told me her words were ‘you’re as guilty as any murderer on death row and you’re going to rot in hell.’”

“Ouch! Well, go Martha! I always liked that lady. So what’s next?”

“She moved out and in with a friend. I guess her friend had wanted Martha to share her little apartment for a long time, but she stayed at home to protect her brother. Now, she’s contacted CPS to have Shawn removed from the home too.”

“Where will he go?”

“She’s going to try to get him in with his aunt and uncle. They live in town and have agreed to have Shawn come live with them. I guess it’s all up to CPS now.”

I wander into the house searching for my boyfriend. He’s in the kitchen with his mom.

Don looks up. “Paul tell you?”

“Yep. Martha’s a brave lady; I have to give her that. I’m going to tell her the next time I see her, too.”

“I was telling Mom about some of the ideas you were talking about this afternoon.”

That makes me remember the picture. I pull out my phone and go to the gallery. “Hey, look at this.”

Mrs. Nelson asks, “Is that a picture of you when you were younger?”

Don’s look tells me he knows exactly whose picture it is.

“No, that’s my brother Danny. Yesterday, I texted Carl to ask if he had a picture of Danny, and if he did, to send me a copy. He said Danny sent this to him about a month before he died.”

She put on a pair of glasses and looked at it more carefully. “It’s uncanny, Chuck.”

“It’s a pretty good image size too. When I get home, I’m going to download it to Photoshop and see how large I can make it. Then I’ll print and frame it for my room.”

I see Don’s look. I can read his mind. He’s thinking, perving on his brother. I return his look. I’m thinking, shut the fuck up.

Later, Don rubs my belly while I’m in the process of finishing my third cheeseburger.

“I told you; I’m storing up memories.”

“You’re going to be storing up fat.”

“It’ll all fall away fast enough after my New Haven starvation diet. No one can eat mashed potato pizzas.”

~*~

The next morning I’m fat with memories of a wonderful night making love with my boyfriend. Barbie tells me Tom is expected home sometime later this morning. The whole family is around the table, with Sunday morning's breakfast servings in various stages of being consumed. Everyone looks comfortable after the nearly terrifying weekend.

“I contacted Twoey’s mother. I’m going to stop over this morning on my way home.”

Don looks up. “This is about your hotline plan?”

“Yep. I think she’ll be able to help me understand what needs to be done and the possible costs.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“Nah. I’ll be fine. It’s only a fact-finding mission. I’ll let you know all about it. I need to get home, too – if for no other reason than to show my mom I’m still around.” Which makes everyone chuckle.

When I do approach the Twoey house, I quickly scan the street to see if I can park where she won’t see the car. But there’s nowhere that’ll work, so I pull into the driveway. She lets me in but doesn’t frown at the car – hehe.

We’re in her living room and I tell her about Shawn. I even describe Martha’s heroic stance. After explaining pretty much everything I’ve been thinking, I try to gauge whether her reaction is positive or negative.

“How old are you, Chuck?”

“I’ll be eighteen on Wednesday.”

“My, you’re so mature and caring. I think you have the germ of a wonderful plan. The trouble is, there are costs. It’s one reason there is no suicide hotline in town. A portion of the Board of Education is controlled by the same faction that Shawn’s parents reflect. So not a penny can be expected from them. I’m surprised my position even got funded. It probably had something to do with the size of the school and the State Education Department.”

“Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You know about these things better than I do. How does this all work?”

“Ideally, there will be lots of volunteers to make sure the line is available all the time. During certain, more active, hours there should be a couple volunteers ready. You don’t want a kid in crisis to keep running into a busy signal or recorded message. These volunteers need to be trained. So there will be a cost to that. You also need a professional on call. I can help out there, where possible, but there will be times I won’t be available. So another specialist will be needed, and there will be a cost. I wouldn’t charge anything because I consider it my duty as school psychologist, but you’ll need to pay someone else to be on call. Then, of course, you’ll need the dedicated phone lines and even a place for the volunteers to work. I’m sure there will be other costs, too, but those are the big ones.”

“Could you find out a fairly realistic dollar amount, both initially and as an annual ongoing cost? I’ll need it pretty soon so I can find a source of funds. School’s almost over, and then I’ll be in New Haven. I want this all nailed down before I leave.”

“I think I can do that for you. I think it’s a wonderful idea. You’re a pretty amazing guy.”

“I hate to admit it, but I was sort of shamed into this. Then when Shawn nearly took his life, and from the same kooks that affected David, it all came together in my mind.” That earns me a kiss on the cheek. “Oh, one last thing. Can you give me a ballpark figure of what we’re talking about? It’s nothing I want to hold you to, it’s just I want to begin working on the funding and I have to have some sort of goal in mind.”

Ginny smiles, drifts into a little contemplation, and then tosses out the numbers. I’m surprised at how affordable it seems. After that, I thank her again and make my excuses to depart. Before I do leave, I show her my brother’s picture. She had apparently met him before the – y’know.

I back out and head around the block to see if Tom is back yet. The Caddy is in Gary’s driveway, so that gives me hope. Tom’s aunt answers the door and I ask if he’s in. She calls upstairs and I hear him yell down for me to come on up.

This is the first time I’ve been to his lair. I think he’s in the bathroom because his voice echoes as he tells me to go into his room and make myself comfortable. He has lots of pictures on his wall, but no posters, like one would expect from a high school junior and jock. In fact, the photos are pretty good. I see a few of Barbie, a few of Don’s whole family, and a ton of David, several of which are with Tom. Some start when Tom was about thirteen, it seems. The last one shows David after his graduation ceremony, still half-dressed in his gown with Twoey hanging over him. What’s surprising is the quality of the photography.

“I just had to take a shower after I got home.” Tom walks in still drying his hair wearing nothing but boxers. I look away from his body to refocus on the photos, but not before his unbelievably well-developed musculature gets etched into my brain.

“Who took these pictures, Tom? They’re really good.”

“Thanks, Chuck. I did.” I swing around to reveal my astonished look, but immediately swivel back with a blush of embarrassment for seeing him nearly naked again.

“I didn’t know you were into photography! What camera do you use?”

“This one.” I have to turn back, but at least he has jeans on now, though still shirtless. In his hand is my old Nikon. “David gave it to me when he left to move in with Twoey. I went to the library and borrowed some books, then studied the work of some great photographers. I saw right away how they looked for patterns and shadows and the way light changed one’s perception. I really delved into it pretty deeply, especially after that distressing time. For a year, all I concentrated on was football and photography and trying to find excuses to be around my brother as much as possible. Barbie was wonderful and very understanding and I fell in love with her even more because of it.”

“I gave that camera to David. It was my old one, before my mother gave me the Canon. I always loved that Nikon. I’m tickled it’s being put to such good use. You’re a fantastic photographer, Tom.”

“Not just a big ape?” He hit me with a look that made me recognize his charm for the first time, I think.”

“No, you’re definitely not a big ape. You’re my friend.”

This time his hug was warm. “I was wondering when you were going to realize that.”

“I like your room.”

“This was David’s old room. I squatted here when he moved out. I didn’t change his pillow case for about a month, just to retain the scent of him. I was pretty broken up.”

“By the way, how did it go in New York with your brother?”

“I was so appreciative he was there; thank you, Chuck. I probably couldn’t have survived without his hand on my shoulder. I don’t think he ever lost contact with me for the whole day. Twoey was great too. He supported David while David supported me.”

“So, how moody is he? I need to know because I’m planning on flying to Florida next weekend. Please don’t tell him I’m coming. I haven’t called him yet.”

“He’s calm. He didn’t seem worked up or anything, even though I was expecting him to be, y’know – considering what had happened to him at the hands of my father. Oh, by the way, do you know they’re married?”

“What?!”

“Hehe – yep, quietly last summer. I saw the rings and asked. He didn’t try to hide it from me. He told me an interesting story about meeting some dude at a cross-country race the fall of his senior year. Andy, I think his name was. I guess they got along pretty well. Anyway, this kid was married to another guy while still in high school! So that was in the back of his mind the whole year. When they found out that only married students could live off campus the freshman year, he and Twoey got married and rented a house. If you fly down, that’s where you’ll stay. He said there are lots of guest rooms. It’s a pretty large place. In fact, I intend to go visit with Barbie this summer.” He rummaged around, found what he was looking for, jotted something on a little pad and gave it to me. “This is his address. He tells me it’s not too far from the airport.”