Confounded: Part II - 10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10 --==Kit’s POV==--

I haven’t visited that many cemeteries in my life. Only once, actually, for grandma’s funeral, so I was out of my element and didn’t know where to go. Evergreen was a big cemetery!

Luckily, help was close and after a quick conversation with a caretaker I found myself closing in on Miguel’s gravesite. Parking the car, I got out and went to where the caretaker had told me to go. It was hot outside so I loosened my tie and opened the top two buttons of my shirt, shirking my jacket off and throwing it over my shoulder, hooked in a finger. Then I looked around, getting my bearings.

At first, I thought I was mistaken, that there was no one. I couldn’t see anyone near. Then I heard it, very softly; someone was talking.

“…censed him the most was the blatant jokes of the ones who pass it all off as a jest, pretending to understand everything and in reality not knowing their own minds.”
That was from Ulysses. I remembered the passage as Tom read it aloud.
“Do you remember that? I quoted that to you when you were being a dick to me, when we first met; you looked at me like there was water burning. You knew the line but no one ever stood up to you with words. You thought I was a weirdo…”
Soft laughter.
“You thought you were smarter… maybe you were….
It went quiet. Birds were chirping in a nearby tree. Somewhere in the distance a car drove by.
“I’m leaving, Sandro. I can’t be here anymore so this will be my last visit for a long while. Maybe the last…

I held my breath as Tom talked, slowly retreating out of earshot. Then I flipped my phone open and called Taylan.

“Found him,” I said, talking softly so Tom wouldn’t hear.

“Oh thank god,” Taylan answered, relief clear in his voice. “I’m about to be mobbed, I think; there’s a group of guys ogling me and I don’t think it’s the good kind.”

“Get out of there,” I said, trying to keep my voice down but not entirely succeeding to keep the anxious tone out of it. “Now!”

“Already going. Where are you?”

“Not important; get out of there.”

“Where, Kit!”

“You just concentrate on getting out of there; he doesn’t need your anger right now. I gotta go,” I answered, eying the direction of where Tom was. There’d been no movement there. Yet. “I’ll bring him home. We’ll talk then, alright? Call dad, that I found him.”

“No, Kit! Wai….”

Flipping the phone closed, feeling a little bit guilty of hanging up on Tay, I thumbed it off completely so that he couldn’t call back and let it slide into my pocket. Then I approached the location where I’d heard Tom’s voice.

Not a moment too soon; as I closed in, his head appeared from behind the gravestone I was going for. Leaning on it, I saw his lips move; not a sound came from them. Then, as I moved closer, he noticed that someone was near and looked up, disturbed.

A look of pure shock crossed his face when he saw it was me who’d found him. Looking around, he then stooped and got a backpack which had been hidden from view, hoisting it onto his shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” He said, hostility evident in his voice.

“Tom, I…”

“Get out of here, Kit. You have no business being here.”
He remained where he was, his hand still resting on the gravestone. He didn’t seem to be able to let it go.

“Who is he?” I asked, softly, gesturing to the stone.
Slowly approaching, I came around to view it, getting a quick glance at the name. It was Miguel’s grave.

“None of your business.”

“Maybe not; I’d still like to know.”
He didn’t answer that.

“How did you find me?” He then asked, answering himself a moment later when the obvious clicked in his brain. “My laptop.”
I nodded.

“Should’ve taken it with you.”

“Too heavy, no room,” came the reluctant reply.
He eyed the surroundings again.
“Didn’t bring your dad? Uncle Tay?”

“Just me,” I answered.

“Interesting. So now what?”

“I take you back home.”

“Or…you could tell them you didn’t find me.”
Shaking my head, I sent him a smirk.

“Can’t. They already know.”
By now, Tay should’ve called dad, but Tom didn’t know I hadn’t given them this location.

“Fuck…” he muttered.

“Tom…who is…was Miguel?”
He leaned more heavily on the stone; some sort of internal conflict was apparent as all sorts of emotions streaked across his face.

“My…”
He swallowed difficulty and didn’t finish the answer.

“Boyfriend?” I supplied.

“…lover…” he corrected.

“How did he die?”
It took some time for him to mull that over, deciding to tell me or not.

“He got shot during a robbery.”
Oh my god…
“He…died in my arms.”

“Were you there?”

“No,” he whispered, a look of pain fleetingly passing over his face. “I got a call from a friend who told me he was brought to the ER. There he bled out. I almost didn’t make it in time.”
I swallowed a couple of times, unable to dislodge the lump in my throat.
“There…there was so much blood; it dripped from the gurney. On the floor, on me…”

Tom looked at his hands and shuddered, as if there was still some on there. I couldn’t begin to imagine what that’d been like; his pain was obvious.

“It was supposed to be the last time he’d go with them. He wanted to get out and go away; we’d be going away together.”
His tone became drone-like, monotonous.

“Go where?”

“Anywhere.”

“Is that what you’re planning to do now?”

“There is nothing for me here anymore.”
Carefully I stepped a little closer to him.

“We’re here. Your family is here. Your mom and dad, your sisters…Jay...”
He huffed.

“They’d never understand. And Jay is a moron who thought he could extort me by threatening to tell on me. He’s dead, for all I care.”

“He’s your brother, man…”

“Some brother; they didn’t give him the family manual, then. He’s a jackass and a tool.”

“Alright, forget about Jay; what about your sisters? Your mom? You dad? They love you…”

“Love,” he hissed, his tone sneering, “love is misery.”
He looked at the gravestone one last time and turned away.
“Love is death.”

“You can’t just turn your back on your family, Tom,” I remarked, grabbing his arm when he made to leave.

“They turned their back on me, sent me away, so why not?”

“Fine, forget them for a minute, then. What about Taylan? He doesn’t know anything about this; he took you in. We took you in. We’re your family too.”
That did stop him but only for a small moment; it was enough for me to continue at least.
“Taylan loves you; you know that. My dad likes you. I…”
When I caught myself there, he smirked.

“Careful, Kit. You like me now?”

“No…I don’t,” I admitted, for once telling someone that to his face, “but I also don’t know you. You never let me and for that, you suck, man. But I do understand you a little better now.”

His eyes traveled up to mine, studying me for a long while. Then he nodded slowly, as if understanding something.

“That’s the first time you ever dared to be completely honest to someone…”
It was a statement. His ability to read me like that was uncanny.
“Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”
For once I got a slight smile. Then he hoisted the backpack further up and lifted his hand in goodbye.
“It’s been real but I gotta get going.”

I let my hand drop from his arm as he stepped away.

“Alright. Go then, if that’s what you want. Walk. Run. Hide,” I said, sighing and heading the other way.

“You’re not gonna stop me?” he then called out.
Something in the way he asked that made me stop and turn to face him again. He hadn’t moved.

And then I realized that he wanted me to stop him. To care. That he wasn’t as dead inside as he wanted people to believe.
Shoving my hands deep in my pockets, I went over where he stood, still not having moved an inch.

“Do you want me to?” I asked, searching his face.

Somewhere, deep in those light brown eyes, something flickered through the dullness of his stare. Barely. He’d felt something, when I said that.

“You do…you want me to stop you.”
This time, it wasn’t a question on my part. He stayed silent for a long time, his eyes occasionally leaving mine but always returning.

“Why do you care so much?”
I shrugged, still looking him straight in the eye.

“It’s who I am. And you wanna know something?”

“What…?”

“I think you care too. You’re just afraid to show it.”

“Is that so…”

“Yes. I think it’s sad.”

“Ah, so now I’m sad? Why don’t you take your highschool psych…”

“Yeah, blah blah; you gonna get into the car and come home with me or not?” I interrupted him, not willing to go another twenty rounds. That silenced him pretty quick.

“Fine. You win.”

He stalked past me in a huff, leaving me to gape after him; I couldn’t believe that I had actually won. And that he admitted it.