Thin Thin Thread - 2. Chapter 2

Elias lied back on the soft leather sectional in the basement, staring at the ceiling. Any minute his father would be back from his run, and he couldn’t decide yet if he would be facing any heat from the man or not. If he hadn’t on the phone, it wasn’t likely, but he’d learned not to make assumptions. His mother had taught him that well. The television played for nobody up the stairs, and he heard the Sunday morning programming playing, reminding him of hours spent in pews as a child, the sheer torment of sitting still between his parents, the way his father would hold his hand like he was an elopement risk until he was at least twelve. As if the man liked being there any more than he did. He felt the rigidity of his father every week, the lack of desire to sit through a sermon when he could be anywhere else. Isaac had always seemed to enjoy it, bless his ever loving Mama’s boy heart.

Swearing, Elias pulled away from the painful thoughts and pressed his fingers into his eyes. If he was going to go down roads better untraveled in his mind, he needed to get up and do something. He’d leave again if he didn’t have the distinct feeling his father was expecting him when he returned. It was an hour and a half from the time he’d hung up with him in the car when William did come through the front door, flushed and damp with sweat. Elias was reaching the foyer and sent a grim half smile the man didn’t even try to return. There was no mirth or anger or really much of anything when William asked, “Isaac leave?”

“Just as I was pulling in.” Elias leaned into the wall, fidgeting with the earbuds wound up in his pocket. He’d have asked his brother where he was headed if Isaac wasn’t emitting every stone cold back-off vibe imaginable. “Seemed pissed.”

“Yeah, well.” William sat slowly onto a bench near the front door and worked off his running shoes. Setting the brick red footwear aside on the shoe mat, he took a breath. “He wants me to do something about you staying out all night. Think that would do any good?”

There was just enough edge in the man’s tone to make Elias wince. “I’m sorry, alright? I should’ve called.”

“Would have been considerate.”

Considerate. Like the countless number of times William himself had come home hours late without bothering to call and let them know to eat without him? Elias just stared. “Guess so.”

William stood, peeling the bottom of his tee shirt from his abs as he made his way up the hardwood steps to the kitchen. “I have a few extra appointments I need to make it to tomorrow. You up for celebrating your birthday tonight?”

Elias had expected anything but the question, now of all times, and followed to slump into the kitchen’s island counter top. Nobody had really mentioned his birthday this year and he’d figured it would stay that way. His sixteenth has been outrageous and unforgettable, his seventeenth overlooked completely, even by himself. He’d expected nothing tomorrow, but a nonchalant dinner brought up like old times seemed worse. Like the elephant taking up all of their lives was going to go unnoticed.

He swallowed. “Tonight?”

“If that works for you.” William filled a recycled water bottle with filtered water at the fridge. “You, me, Isaac. Guy time. You can pick where.”

The phrase ‘guy time’ coming from his father was both laughable and devastating, almost as much as the idea of the three of them making it happen together. But his father seemed earnest and he hated to make the man regret asking. He hesitated but said, “Sure. If Isaac wants to.” Which he doubted.

“I’ll ask him.” William closed the fridge and Elias hoped the asking didn’t include any pressuring. Isaac was very fond of going along with things out of guilt only to resent it and hang it over everyone’s heads later – another trait their mother had taught diligently by example.

When his dad’s phone buzzed in his pocket, Elias watched the man pull it out and slip from the room down the hall. It was only then that he realized how stiff and sore every part of him was, how much he needed sleep. He could probably also eat out every shelf of the fridge, but that would wait. Crossing his arms over his chest to rub his shoulders, he dragged himself up the stairs to his room where he collapsed in his bed. Staring weakly across the room to the old skateboards mounted on the wall, he let himself wonder everything he normally distracted himself from. Like why he hadn’t changed more of his room’s décor in the last three years. He hadn’t skated since he was a freshman, since he’d been told by actual skaters how good he was and his father had insisted he focus on his academics. Since his mother had insisted he obey his father for Jesus’ sake. He’d done a lot for Jesus’ sake, and he wasn’t sure any of it was ever going to pan out for his good like his mother had once claimed. Not that she’d think him deserving of good at this point anyway.

Grunting softly, he shifted in the bed, pulling a pillow down to hug, forcing his eyes closed. As soon as they shut, his mind filled with the image of dark water, blue and muddy at the same time, flowing in a single direction. The further into the depths he allowed his mind to go, the more rocks and ground joined the scene and he felt the pull into a sleep-induced atmosphere he didn’t find comforting from conscious life. Tugging himself back up to wakefulness, he squeezed the pillow at his chest and worked to reroute his thoughts. Would it work? Would he keep the river from his dreams, the dreams from stirring up anxieties and pain a year’s time had done nothing to dissipate? Slowly his eyes closed again and he let the first few tears fill his lashes, let his mind go where it went.

Maven’s soft straight lips curved into a faint smile as he sat cross-legged in the grass. Children played on the rocks surrounding them like a jungle gym, fun-loving and fearless children unaware two teen boys sat among them with enough weight on their shoulders to keep them from standing, much less jumping rock to rock. The river wound in its natural curves in front of them and even a full three feet away, Elias felt Maven’s breathing thicken until there were small rasping noises made with the effort to get in air. For once it didn’t matter who was watching and Elias felt a surge of ache stronger than he knew how to deal with, a hurtful desire to make things easier. For both of them. A striking summer sun was sinking and the crowd of children dwindling as Elias reached with his thin hand to Maven’s stronger one, letting their palms connect and their fingers overlap in a weave. Maven lifted his softly squared jaw to turn his face, finding Elias’ eyes for the first time all afternoon and evening. Elias’ chest squeezed as he returned the stare, not understanding the pain overtaking the green of the eyes studying him. Maven had what Elias longed for; he was out. He was out fully and few people questioned it, fewer made an issue, and his family fully accepted everything he was. Maybe half the high school referred to the boys’ locker room as Maven’s Haven, maybe girls from the volleyball team treated him like a trophy to be competed over, maybe ‘gay’ was still thrown around town to describe anything inferior or undesirable. But whatever had Maven in such a dark place tonight went so far beyond these surface-layer insults, Elias was almost afraid to ask. So he didn’t. He sat there with the boy his mother begged him to stay away from, held the hand his brother would rip from his if he were there, felt the warmth of Maven’s skin and internally accepted his own desire for more.

By the time the sun and the children surrounding them were gone, so were the rocks, and all of the feelings he didn’t want to have. There was just him and the boy he wanted to comfort, and didn’t know how, and that overwhelmed every other bad feeling put together.

---

William finished one more work-related call he usually found a refreshing distraction from personal life and let out a breath. He needed to freshen up and change before he joined Isaac and Annalise at the hospital. If this visit went anything like the last, if he was at all able, he’d spend just as much time with a doctor as with his wife, prodding into every aspect of the woman’s condition, fighting for hope that someday she’d be stable enough to return home. He no longer felt the same naïve urgency to get there that he once had, feeling irrationally sure she’d recover in the time it took to get her hydrated again. No, he only had a lingering wish that they could continue working toward stabilizing her enough that eventually home visits would be an option. He wasn’t sure what that would look like for his sons if it were to miraculously happen in the next year, but he had little idea what to do for them in general. He wasn’t even sure what to expect from Isaac when he proposed the idea of a birthday dinner for Elias that evening, one that wouldn’t include Annalise. At this point, even if they were allowed to take her from the hospital, a public setting involving both her and Elias was almost guaranteed to end in disaster. He barely remembered the times they all went out to eat as a family, when Elias was maybe twelve and had loved to dress up for the fancier places. Annalise had embraced that, had giggled at the way the boy was so particular about his bow tie and his hair, had found a little dapper Elias endearing and never questioned his manhood then.

The shower water was hot enough to redden most of his flesh and he stepped out steaming, realizing he’d gotten into the bathroom and washed up on auto pilot, lost in memories and wishes he barely held any more. He got dressed and made his way down the hall, nearly calling out to Elias before he reached his room and spied the boy crashed on top of his comforter, holding a pillow with both arms, curled slightly on his side. William stopped and stood in the doorway, guessing wherever his son had spent last night, he hadn’t slept. Unless he was deadbeat, Elias had never been one to nap. It was tempting to wade through the random piles of clothes and gadgets on the floor to cover the boy up, but chances were almost zero that Elias was cold. Isaac used to teased the kid had polar bear blood.

But despite the messy bedroom and the small frame on the bed, Elias was hardly a kid any more. Only legally so for one last day, and William drew in a long breath to keep from letting it sink in too much. Elias’ breaths were shallow and steady. William only reached to flick the bedroom light off before leaving the doorway. Let him sleep. God knew they’d all spend a lot more time sleeping if they could.