Cheshire - 3. Step 3: Learning to remember

Although Cheshire understood that being left behind during the week was necessary, he could not tolerate the fact that Ethan and Chris had the nerve to go out on this beautiful, sunny Saturday. He sat atop the window sill, his eyes scanning the street for any sign of his owners, his tail twitching angrily behind him.

After an eternity, he saw them coming. Their hands were tightly woven, and they seemed to be having a wonderful time.

“Unacceptable” was the only word that described this situation (from Cheshire’s point of view).

When finally he heard the key turn in the lock and the door open, Cheshire’s tail twitched even more impatiently. He did not come down from his vantage point, and superbly ignored the two men as they came in.

Ethan came over to pet him, but Cheshire shunned him and stiffly walked away, to the surprise of his owner.

“What’s wrong Cheshire?” asked Ethan.

Cheshire meowed his annoyance and left the room.

Ethan found his cat’s behavior very curious, and when the cat left, he followed him in the bedroom. Knowing his cat, he would be hiding under the bed. He knelt and sure enough, two glowing green eyes stared back at him.

“What’s wrong buddy?” he said softly.

Cheshire did nothing.

“Oh I know, you’re angry we left you alone eh?”

Cheshire meowed.

Ethan sighed and got up, he knew better than try to argue with his cat.

“What’s wrong with his Majesty?” asked Chris as Ethan came back in the living room.

“He’s angry we left him alone on a weekend.”

“Oh, and?”

“He’ll pout a while but come around at dinner time.”

Chris snickered.

“Mind if I try to reason him?”

“Be my guest, I gave up long ago.”

Chris tip toed in the bedroom, he got down on the floor. Lying on his stomach, his chin on the back of his hands, he looked at the two glowing eyes under the bed. He started humming an old tune of when he was a boy. A song his mother hummed as she worked, a song he used to hum when he needed to think. Cheshire’s ears perked up, the tune was soft, gentle, comforting, and, without meaning to, Cheshire started to purr. His purring, it resonated with Chris’ song as it vibrating through his fur. Very slowly he crept forward, intrigued by this strange connection. Chris closed his eyes and continued.

Chris remembered his mother, and happy thoughts flowed through his mind in a warm, glowing stream of pictures and sounds. He had not sung this tune in quite a few years, not since… not since the day he had come out. The warm stream turned dark and bitter as he remembered his father now. He could still feel his father’s hand on his cheek, the hate in the eyes of a man he once respected above all. He did not remember the exact words, but he did remember their sting, no, their burn as they seared his father’s hate for his only son in his young teenager’s mind. But the anger turned to sadness, his mother was crying. Through the torment he had seen her leave the room, tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. Tears coming from eyes his had crossed one last time. Even now he still doubted that what he saw in them. After all these years, he still could not decide whether he saw disappointment or fear.

He had left his home that day broken and alone. He had wandered on the streets the whole night, going to school the next day as if nothing had happened. He had crossed his twin sister in the halls. Together, they had snuck out of school to cry and talk. Their father had made it clear Chris was not to come back to their home, otherwise he would “wake up with the Lord” the next day as the man had said. Lily had not seen their mother, but had received a text from her in the morning: “Call your uncle.”

Uncle Frank was their mother’s brother, he and their father hated each other, and since the passing of Chris and Lily’s grandparents, the twins had not seen him. Lily had called him on the way to school. Frank was infuriated with his sister’s husband, and had told Lily he was on his way. During lunch break they had isolated themselves and had called Frank again. He was in the car and still infuriated, but he promised to meet them both after school. After the final bell, they had found him in the parking lot. Tears were shed, lots of tears, and on that day both twins left with Frank. Ever since then, Frank became their father, took care of them, but no news ever came from Chris and Lily’s parents. Both of them disappeared. Every time the twins talked, a question was always never asked, but always answered: no. Years went by, Lily and Chris both attended college, both now worked, and they were still closer than any siblings in existence. They talked at least once every two days. Lily was going to get married soon, and she had invited Chris and Ethan to attend the wedding. She had yet to meet or even speak to Ethan, but she was very happy for her brother. In college, she had been there to pick up the pieces and put them back together gently, carefully. Uncle Frank also talked to the twins often, he fully supported them both, and he did his best to be a parent. Frank had never married, never had kids. He was a tremendously busy man, CEO of his own company that had expanded overseas. He took his niece and nephew on quite a few trips with him, showing them the world, sharing his insight on life as he knew it.

“It takes all kinds to make a world,” as he used to say.

Cheshire gently licked Chris’ nose, trying to comfort the man as he cried over his past, the tune still painting arabesques in the air. Chris opened his eyes in surprise, and smiled at the cat, who grinned in return. Chris got up and gently took Cheshire in his arms.

The pair returned to the living room where they could see Ethan preparing Cheshire’s meal in the kitchen. The cat jumped and went to his owner. He lovingly rubbed himself against Ethan’s legs before jumping on the counter to wait for his food. When Ethan set the bowl down, Cheshire put his paw on his hand, and looked him in the eyes then turned his head towards Chris who was looking at them, arms crossed and leaning on the wall. Ethan surprised at first, looked at his boyfriend. He saw the pain in his eyes. He went over to him, and gently took him in his arms. Chris buried his head in Ethan’s chest. He was done crying, but the hurt was still there.

Sunday afternoon, Chris got a call from Lily, surprised that she would call as they had spoken only the day before. After Ethan had soothed Chris with a warm cup of tea, some hugging and a lot of love, the latter had isolated himself to call her. For the first time in a few years they had talked of that day. The conversation had lasted over an hour, and had ended when she had had to leave to go with her fiancé to a restaurant they had a reservation at.

“Chris? It’s Lily.”

“I saw, what’s wrong?” he said, his voice thick with concern.

“Uncle Frank got a call from the police this morning, mom… mom is in the hospital.”

Chris remained silent, too stunned to fully process what his sister was saying. It was as if Fate had a cruel sense of timing.

“She came in with a few broken ribs, bruises all over, and a knife wound in the stomach. Apparently… apparently she and he fought.”

Words were hard to find for Lily, who was still under shock herself.

“Neighbors heard them and called the cops, they got their in time to stop him from killing her. He’s dead, shot by the officers who were there.”

Chris’ mind was working overtime, processing the information as Lily gave it to him, then going over it again and again, unable to truly believe it, and incapable of formulating a response. Lily knew her brother like herself, and she knew he usually needed time. However, she went on, as there was more to tell.

“They moved the year we left. They… they told Frank that it seemed the abuse had been going on for quite some time.”

Images flashed in front of Chris’ eyes, they were all smeared with hate and anger and violence, and all bore the face of one man.

“She should be ok, the doctors are confident that she will make a full recovery.”

“Where?” Chris croaked.

It wasn’t far, barely an hour’s drive.

Ethan was getting worried, Chris had been in the bedroom for a long time now, and he heard no noise from the other side of the door. Cheshire looked at him, nervous as well.

“Well if even he is worried then something must be wrong,” Ethan thought.

He went to the door and gently knocked, not hearing any response he slowly opened it. Cheshire slithered inside immediately, while Ethan poked his head in. Chris was sitting on the bed, looking out the window, his face pale, his eyes lost somewhere in the sea of time. Ethan gently went to his side, but when he went to touch his boyfriend, the latter flinched back and retreated far from him. For a moment Chris did not know who he was, or where he was, but when his gaze fell on Ethan’s worried face the numbness went away, leaving him raw, exposed to the pain that flooded over him like a tidal wave. Ethan was immediately at his side, raising his chin slightly, and kissing him with all the love he could gather. Chris leached on that love, pitting the tidal wave against the tsunami that was Ethan’s love. The conflicted tides clashed with deafening noise in Chris’ mind, shaking him to his core. However, once the waters settled, the dominant current was Ethan’s love.

They rode under the setting sun in silence. Chris had told Ethan the whole story. It had taken time, and tears were shed once more. They shortly after had left without Cheshire, the latter, understanding the abnormality and gravity of the situation, had not protested, and had quietly gone to his spot, purring when they had come to say goodbye to him.

Ethan and Chris would be there before Lily and her fiancé, as she was further than them by at least two hours. The sun was gone once they arrived, and the cold February night was fully upon them as they got out of the car. Ethan put an arm over Chris’ shoulders, and together they walked to front desk.

“Good evening,” the lady at the reception said.

“Hi, I’m… I’m looking for my mom: Claire Stamper.”

The police officer that was standing nearby looked up from his phone.

“Chris Stamper?” he asked.

“Y…Yes,” Chris stuttered.

“I’m officer Willis, we’ve been in contact with your uncle.”

“Y…Yes my sister told me you had called him.”

“Have you been informed of the… ah… conditions in which your mother was found?” he asked uncomfortably.

Chris nodded, tears forming in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for this, I know this must be difficult for you, but… we need to figure out what happened. Do you know anything about the cause of these tragic events?”

Chris shook his head.

“No, my sister and I we… well we… haven’t spoken to our parents in over eleven years.”

“Oh… Well uh, would you like to see her? She is out of surgery and is resting in a room.”

“Has she been awake?” Chris asked.

“No sir, but it shouldn’t be long now,” said the lady, behind the counter.

They followed a nurse to Chris’ mother’s room. Chris stopped dead in his tracks in front of the door, fear flashed in his eyes, but Ethan squeezed his hand gently. Taking a big breath he followed the nurse inside.

His mother was just as he remembered if you omitted the bruises and tubes, the same thick brown hair, just like his, the gentle curve of her face, and her delicate body. Tears welled up in his eyes again, but he didn’t look away, and they weren’t sad tears. He had missed his mother terribly, when he was little he was a mommy’s boy while Lily was daddy’s little girl. Over the years the yearning had grown dull, but in came back, surging in his heart.

Again, Fate had some sort of sense of timing, as his mother’s eyes opened ever so slightly.

“Chris?” Claire managed, her voice full of hope.

“Hi mom.”

Tears streamed down his face now, and he went to her side and kissed her on her cheek. Mother and son cried, happy to be together again and grieving the time they were apart.