True As It Can Be - 10. Chapter 10

Breakfast is awkward. When I enter the dining room with Chip, everyone is quiet. Warren and Paki, both without makeup and dressed simply, stare at me with questions, while Francis’ faces hang low. Min is quiet as he is usually, but even his silence appears to hold added weight. Brad is sitting quietly with his hands folded and smiles at the sight of me. I notice that Brad’s wooden seat had been augmented with a type of pillow and memory foam cushion for his back and rear. I’ve never seen him seated off his bed, but I remember what I was told about what that bastard Gary had done to him. I know he couldn’t be seated normally.

I glance at Cook and Mrs. Potter, who were seated at the front of the table just as they were during Friday night dinner, they are smiling at me. The breakfast is a generous assortment of muffins, pancakes, scrambled eggs, sliced fruits, and a basket of crispy bacon, which was probably prepared by Cook earlier. However, no one had grabbed any food from the bounty; even after Chip and I sit in our usual positions.

Cook smiling at all of us clears his voice to speak, “It’s good to have everyone here. Before we begin breakfast, does anyone want to share or express something?”

I know Chip probably wants to talk about his video game, but Brad answers before Chip could speak, “I’m sorry…”

Cook smiles at Brad’s apology, “What are you sorry for Brad?”

Brad looks over at Francis first, but then shifts his gaze to Chip, “I’m sorry for calling you a retard.”

I know Brad is trying and he’s not ready to confront his past, but he is thinking about it with just that simple glance. Sadly, Francis would not know this indirect acknowledgement due to his blindness before addressing Chip. Brad is giving a simpler apology to someone he wronged recently, but it has far less meaning to either himself or the other person than one directed to Francis. Part of me wants to forgive Brad for his failure to move past his psychological barriers, but another part of me worries about him and selfishly about my relationship with this man. In my mind, I can try to offset these fears with the simple fact that he acknowledged the past. I hope Paki will tell Francis what Brad’s glance meant; even though, it’s a small opening. I know it will take time for Brad and Francis to confront their past, but this will make it easier.

I wink at Paki, he acknowledges me with a nod, then shifts his gaze to Francis, who was anxious at the lack of apology or acknowledgement to him. Paki stands up and walks over behind his boyfriend, then whispers in his ear. Brad noticed this and turns to me with an unspoken question, I point to the 2 of them and nod at Brad. Brad’s brow furrows, then relaxes at the revelation of his old friend’s relationship status. Francis gives Paki a chaste kiss on the lips as if he knew where Paki’s lips were with sight. Paki returns to his seat without any comment.

Chip beaming with pride at receiving his apology, turns to Brad oblivious to all the nonverbal subtext, “Oh…You really mean it. Really, you are sorry for being so mean,” he looks over at me with a knowing smile, “That’s so cool, isn’t it Beau? You changed the Beast like Victor and Opal changed Bede from being mean. I liked Bede, when he became good and he started using more fairy-type Pokémon. I wished his Galarian Rapidash was shown off more. There’s something awesome about a fluffy pink unicorn Pokémon. I had a really cute dream of meeting one,” he turns back to Brad, “Will Beau be sleeping with you every night from now on? Are you going to start having…”?

Mrs. Potter interjects before Chip can continue, “Christopher Oliver Potter, remember our talk about personal boundaries.”

At the mention of his full name, Chip flushes, “Yes, mom. I’m sorry for asking the Beast…Brad, something personal.”

I look over at Brad, who was blushing as I knew of his temporary impotence. I knew he wanted to change the subject away from sex, since it’s a sore subject for him. Though honestly, I’m fine with just his hands and I’d be willing to try other stuff for him. That stuff we could discuss later, when we’re alone.

As silence falls after Chip’s last words, Cook clears his voice and uses the opening that Brad and Chip creates with their apologies, along with the movements of Paki to Francis.

“I think Brad and Chip are highlighting an interesting concept for all of us. Many of us have done something wrong to another person. Apologizing and seeking reconciliation is a very healthy practice, when taken in moderation. It helps us grow and broaden our perspectives. Similar to the tradition I created for being grateful during our Friday night dinners, Sunday morning breakfast can also be a good point for us to seek reconciliation for major or minor issues. Does anyone want to follow up Brad and Chip’s example?”

My gaze shifts away from Brad to Warren, who sat across from me and next to Brad at our end of the table. I had to apologize to him for yesterday and making that stupid statement about Noah and him being each other’s first lovers. That opened up old wounds from memories of his ex-boyfriend, Derek. Like Brad, Warren was disfigured by being with someone, who never cared about him. Derek may not have been as cruel as Gary, but Derek did allow Warren to be burned under the false pretense of unwanted anal penetration by Warren. Derek never admitted to his father that he was having consensual gay sex with a trans-male.

I nervously speak and focus my attention on Warren, “I’m sorry Warren…I assumed things yesterday about you and Noah…I did not mean to cause you pain.”

Warren’s expression appears to vary from anxiety to anger, but none were directed at me. When he did turn his face to me, his half-burnt face is one of sorrow and resolve.

“Beau, you have nothing to apologize for. I wanted you to know about me and I’ve been keeping a lot of that shit in for a while. I didn’t shut down, because of what you said. I shut down yesterday, because you helped me realize what I had known for a long time and didn’t admit to myself. I’m holding a lot of crappy emotions that I don’t want to show about my life and how people see me as a trans guy,” he looks over at Brad with boldness, “Beau deserves to be treated with respect and love, not tossed out if shit hits the fan. I know how you’ve treated other guys…” he glances at Francis, then shifts back to Brad, “If you can’t be a decent human being, you don’t deserve any kind of affection.”

Warren is one of the most steadfast people I’ve ever met. I didn’t expect him to not be angry at me, but instead, he came to my preemptive defense. Paki and Francis had remained quiet, they acknowledged Brad’s small opening to eventually reconcile his past. Logically, it’s what I expected from Brad when he promised me, he would try to connect with others for me. Yet, Warren’s words were far more aggressive than anyone at the table could have imagined, even Cook was surprised at Warren’s explosive reaction. Brad was completely speechless, staring at Francis, then back at me with tears in his eyes.

Brad whimpers to me, “Please Beau, I’m not ready…”

I know despite how aggressive he went about it; Warren is right to ask. I know based on his history. Brad did abandon Francis and Warren is watching out for me. I did not want to bring this up so soon, but I know in the back of my own mind, I worry as well. I want to believe in Brad, believe in what we share is special and unique. However, seeing his reticence to confront his past is scary to me. Warren and Paki are friends, Paki is Francis’ boyfriend. Thus, it’s simple to understand why Warren is so harshly critical of Brad.

My hands reach out and I tangle my fingers against his open hands. I know the action is wrong, I know what I am doing is potentially setting up a pattern like the one I had with Jeremy in Minnesota. Still, even if I worry about the future, I can’t deny him emotional comfort. He needs to know that I am here for him.

Min in an uncharacteristic show of emotion speaks to Warren, “Ojamashimasu,” Min notices he had flipped to Japanese, “Please refrain from recriminations.”

Warren turns to Min, “You know better than any of us what the consequences are for bad choices?”

Min nods, “Another has had to pay for my many mistakes. We were desperate and reckless with our futures and our bodies for the sake of money. In doing so, we created new tragedies,” Min turns towards Cook, “Some debts are owed for a lifetime without any words for reconciliation. All we can do is live with our guilt.”

Cook appears surprised by Min, “Not all things are reconcilable to others, but at least, most things can be reconciled within yourself, if you find the courage to acknowledge them. This act of Nemawashi to help resolve your guilt is not easy, but it can be the most important thing.”

Min pales with Cook’s use of his native language, before he responds solemnly, “Only if one deserves forgiveness.”

It is the first time I’ve heard a part of Min’s story. I don’t know how he ended up quadriplegic and losing a promising baseball career. I knew Cook chose each of them to be in this house with Brad, a weird kind of former gay athlete group therapy. In the back of my mind, I’ve been trying to understand what all of this meant, how does each of their traumas and stories relate to one another and to Brad.

With Paki, I knew he grew up poor and needed money to supplement his small gymnastic scholarship for college in South Africa. That led to what happened with his missing hand, ending his hopes. Francis lost his eyesight due to making a sacrificial move for Brad during a major football game. Francis is haunted by what he lost and what he still yearns and will never get from Brad. Warren was discovered anally penetrating a closeted guy, whose father burned half his body, so now he cannot wrestle or even touch another human being without pain. He has inherent fears and uncertainties with others and his own body, due to that incident.

Chip chimes in unaffected by the heavy emotional expressions, “Can we eat breakfast now? Paki and Francis whisper stuff already to each other, so we went around the table. Cook, you said we were going up to New Hampshire to a club with ponies and games. I like horses, but I’m not into ponies like Robby. He’s a Brony and wears things to match the pony he feels like that day. His favorite is Applejack, though. Weird they named a pony after a cereal,” he turns to a smiling Mrs. Potter, “Mom, do you think we can buy some Apple jacks on our way home from New Hampshire today?”

My attention focusses on Cook, who appears pleased with everything that had happened, “Yes, we can have breakfast and we are still going to the Fish and Game Club, near Trout Pond in New Hampshire,” he turns to me, “We’ve been there several weekends. It’s a private club that usually caters to wealthier clientele, but I have booked our group for the entire day. There will be many activities; including both firearm and archery ranges, horseback riding as Chip alluded, fishing for those who want a quiet day by the water, and several other outdoor games. The weather Is still suitable for these activities and they welcomed our patronage.”

I turn to Brad, who was already munching on a strip of bacon, “What do you like to do?”

Brad’s misaligned mouth forms a slightly off-putting toothy frown, “Nothing, I guess I just sit there by the water and pretend to fish.”

I don’t know anything about archery, except old museum pieces showing native Americans with composite bows, TV shows showing crossbows being used on zombies, and movies showing medieval European soldiers shooting body length longbows. The closest thing to Archery that I have ever attempted was playing with nerf dart guns as a kid during the Christian Summer camps I attended. I’ll pass on that.

Horses are familiar to me, but I am not a great rider. Being 4 feet 11 inches, I have the perfect body as a jockey, but I lack good eye hand coordination that actual professionals should have. I also seem to have horrible luck with horses, maybe it’s because my father or uncles usually chose the wildest horses for me to ride. Horses can sense if you are nervous and react to people without confidence like me, badly. I’ve been thrown off a dozen horses and nearly broke my leg last year, when a horse tossed me to its side with my leg still latched on. It dragged me around, while I was screaming, but no one came to my rescue, not the farmhands, my uncle, or my parents who were watching nearby.

Guns have never appealed to me, despite their abundance in my town. I am a decent shooter, but I don’t want to kill things. For most people, killing is the purpose of guns, it’s not a bad purpose or good one, just what happens when your aim is to use a tool that was designed to end life. You shouldn’t pick one up without plans to kill an animal or another human being; practicing with it is just meant to prepare you for the real event. Arguments about incapacitation and other uses are too specialized and circumstantial, they’re just fools trying to distort harsh reality and purpose. Most people, who pick a gun up, have to be ready to kill. That’s what I was taught by my family during several of our hunting trips.

Thus, after breakfast and the hour drive to this private club, it was obvious I would gravitate to fishing with Brad. Cook and Min also joined us as well for fishing. We got bait, lures, lines, and rented fishing poles from the club’s seasonal fish and game store. The private club was what you’d imagine a country club would be like, expansive and open, but it lacked any expensive furnishing or gaudy gold designs to show off its wealthy clientele. We got our gear and Cook got 2 coolers, one for soda and one for ice, The club had a separate car to bring us to a secluded fishing spot. Brad was apologetic the entire time, trying to persuade me to leave him and enjoy the other activities. I explain to him all my issues with the other activities, but he doesn’t completely believe me. I know he feels like he’s holding me back, but I actually prefer fishing over the other stuff.

After Cook placed special seating pads for Brad on a lounger chair, the four of us begin fishing, Brad helps me line my pole and attach my lure. Although, I knew how to do both things, I know he wants to feel like he’s burdening me, so I let him do it. We cast our lines and just wait.

Silence descends between the four of us, which is kind of stupid. Fishing trips are meant to be boisterous and companionable, not awkward and silent between guys. Fishing was one of the few things in Minnesota that I did miss doing with my cousins, before their opinions of me changed.

I try to poke fun of our situation, “You guys know that the old saying “Be quiet or you’ll scare the fish away" is bullshit right. We can be screaming at them right now and they wouldn’t even hear us beneath the water.”

Min turns towards me, smiling for the first time in my presence, “Yes, sound carried along the air is not easily transferable to the water. You have fished much before.”

I nod, turn to see Brad finally loosening his worried features, then reply, “Fishing used to be my favorite thing in the spring and fall with cousins. We were catching trout, too.”

Min stares out at the water, “My grandfather used to have a boat that he fished Tuna from, I would fish alongside him on his boat with poles like these. He catches schools of Tuna for market, while I catch Saba for lunch.”

Brad curiosity must have finally loosened his tongue, “What are Saba?”

Min considers for a moment what the English name is, “I believe you call them Mackerel. They are very fat and goes well with soy sauce and rice.”

Brad grins, “That sounds delicious, I’ve always wanted to fish in the open water, but I usually kept to lakes and freshwater ponds like this.”

I couldn’t have been happier at that moment. We’re conversing over our past experiences on fishing. Learning that the 3 of us shared an interest opened up our discussions. We discussed various things, Min revealed that his actual name is Takato, Min is his surname and he went by the nickname Taka in high school, meaning “falcon”, which we both found extremely cool. Brad told us his high school nickname was “Burst”, because of how fast he could sprint down the field in football. Feeling a little brave, I told them about being called “cock-tease” in school, which earned a smile from Min and a one-armed hug from Brad, nearly turning into a kiss until he backed off noticing our audience. Based on Brad’s wink, I think I can expect that kiss later today.

I learned Min came from a family similar to my own, his father works at his family fish market and his mother works at a nearby noodle stall, like my dad working on his family farm and my mother waiting tables at a local bar and grill. They did not take to his sexuality any better than my own, but unlike me, Min came out earlier at 13 with his boyfriend Ito Nakamura. I learned he was a gifted baseball player, but he had to work after school in order to afford playing due to his family’s alienation.

Min has been a very reserved and quiet guy, just like Brad. I can see where they share similarities in their personalities. Cook was silent for the entire time of our conversation and allowed us to open up to one another.

In the middle of our conversations, Brad’s line begins to run, my attention refocuses, “Brad your line, you got a bite.”

Brad begins to reel the fish in. It must have been very big, because despite Brad’s personal strength, he couldn’t tame his fishing line or pull more than a few inches in. Min had rolled over in his wheelchair to our spot and began to help Brad as well, but before either of them could apply enough strength, the line loosens. They reel in nothing.

Brad groans in exasperation, “Fuck, what the hell was that?”

I shake my head, “It wasn’t a normal trout with how you were both struggling to reel it in. Jeez, I wish we got a chance to see it. It must have been huge.”

Min breaks out in hearty laughter at the situation, “Tsuri otoshita sakana wa ōkī,” Brad and I look at him waiting for his translation as his laughter settles, “It’s an old Japanese proverb, the fish that gets away is the biggest. I can’t believe we just experienced that line.”

All three of us broke into laughter with that.

After the near miss, we caught several Trout, most of which we tossed back except for 6, Cook told us we should keep and bring home those Trout for dinner in the cooler that he brought. It was a very fun day, I learned more about Brad and Min. I think they both had a genuine good time as we packed up to leave the private fishing spot. The shuttle back to the private club was filled with joy as Min, Brad, and I spoke freely to one another about the fish that got away.

When we reached the club, Warren, Paki, and Mrs. Potter were chatting in their dining area over tea and little club sandwiches, while Francis and Chip were seated at another table chatting over cheeseburgers and fries with sodas. Overhearing part of their conversations, I gather Warren, Paki, and Mrs. Potter were among the shooting and Archery group. Chip and Francis, who was guided, went horseback riding. It never occurred to me that Francis looking like the stereotypical big football defensive player, would be interested in riding horses, but he also seemed genuinely connecting with Chip about something they did.

As we sat down and put in our orders for a late lunch, Mrs. Potter came over to me and handed me something. It was a paper bag with a Rifle logo.

I look up at her, “What is this Mrs. Potter?”

She smiles at me, “It’s a special kind of flashlight Beau. I picked that up, along with some other things, while you were all busy today. It is easier to find certain things in New Hampshire. I’ll teach you how to use it, when we get back home. You can get a permit for it and it will be useful.”

I read the top of the box inside the bag, it has the brand name “StrikeLight”. I wonder what Mrs. Potter got me.