Retaliation - 7. The Boiler Room Incident

Fairly quickly, word spread around town that Dustin was in the hospital and that his parents had split up. There were rumors, of course. There always are in a little town like Donora. It wasn’t hard to see that Frank Smith was an asshole and a drunk, and that Carol Smith was a bitch. So the most expressed feeling about their split was one of surprise that they had stayed together so long more than anything else. Dustin’s hospitalization was rumored to be everything from an accident on his bike to that he was dying from AIDS. Though there were all the terrible rumors, one thing that I did not hear was the truth. I think that even if the truth was known, that Dustin’s own father had raped him with a broomstick and almost killed him, it was too terrible even to talk about. No matter how evil people thought Frank was, no one expected him to be so vicious.

I had a few people ask me about the situation at school, since I was Dustin’s friend and all. I did my best to defend Dustin and to wait to see how Dustin wanted to handle things. I’d gotten in trouble with him before about revealing too much about his life, and this was much worse than simply crying in the woods. Nobody asked Brett a thing about what happened, because nobody knew about his involvement at all. One of my teachers pulled me aside after class and asked me point blank if Dustin had been abused, so I guess more people had known about Dustin that I had ever thought. I denied knowing anything except that Dustin was in the hospital. No tenth grader should have to endure what Dustin was going through, and I didn’t want to add to his troubles.

One thing that really pissed me off is that Dustin’s mom didn’t even call the cops. No one knows what she did to Frank the night she found out the truth from Brett. Nobody had even seen him since that day. I was surprised he didn’t end up in the hospital, or worse. Brett didn’t really want to testify, but he would have if he had to. But he told me that not even the cops had come by to ask him anything. It was as if nothing had happened at all. As if just one day Frank had decided to leave for no reason at all. It made me mad because Dustin was never going to get the justice he deserved for nearly being raped to death.

Miss Winston caught me in the hall and got me out of my next class so she could talk to me. She’d always been watching out for Dustin and had gotten him to be a volleyball assistant with me so she could help him out as best she could. We sat in her science room and talked for a while about what had happened.

“You know the real story, Billy. Don’t hide it from me,” she insisted as I continued to profess ignorance.

“I don’t want to say anything until I’ve had a chance to talk to Dustin,” I replied.

“This is not the time for hiding, Billy. Your friend is in the hospital and you know the reason.”

“I really can’t say anything, Miss Winston. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t think I know Dustin’s been abused by his parents?” she asked. “You don’t think I’ve put my own neck on the line and reported it to the principal several times? I knew something bad was going to happen, but no one has done anything to help that poor boy. It just goes nowhere.”

“I can’t tell you what happened,” I said. “All I can say is I’m thankful that you care for him. I’m glad he has at least one teacher who cares around here.”

“Billy, don’t let this town change who you are. Don’t let the bullies who run this place keep you from being true to your friends.”

“I’m not,” I said. “It’s not them I’m worried about. If Dustin doesn’t want to talk about it, then I can’t either. I’ve already said too much. It’s his life.”

I was happy when the bell rang and it was time to go home. It was good to get away from all the rumors and speculation. I sat next to Brett on the bus, of course. He looked miserable, and I could tell the weight of what he’d done was a heavy burden on his heart. I knew he’d done the right thing, I just wished he could see that.

When I got home, dad was there waiting for me. He asked me if I wanted to go with him on a project that evening. I was ready for anything to take my mind off Dustin, so I agreed. It was a little after four when we left. It was nice that the sun was staying out a little longer than it had been now that it was officially spring. We drove about an hour or so to a house in a town called Upper St. Clair. It was one of the richest neighborhoods around, and the house we went to was very big. Dad assured me that we would be well paid for our time. The house looked like an old mansion built in the days when steel and coal were booming. Dad told me that a doctor owned it now, and that they’d been friends in high school. There was a big stone wall built around the yard, and a big iron gate in the front through which we drove onto the brick driveway toward the house. This was no ordinary job dad had managed to snag!

I spent most of my time just admiring the beauty of the old-style construction of the home. There was so much detail. Brett would have loved it because there was just so much to see. Dad grabbed his cane and I lugged his heavy toolbox and we walked to the side door. Dad told me that no one used the big main doors in houses like this one. Sure enough, after he rang the doorbell a man about dad’s age answered the door.

“George Roberts! Look at you,” the man said as he greeted dad. He shook dad’s hand warmly and then hugged him.

“It’s good to see you Barry,” dad replied.

“You’re looking like quite the distinguished gentleman with the cane, George,” Barry said heartily.

“Well I guess ‘distinguished’ is a nicer way of putting it than I would,” dad laughed. “I see your career has treated you well.”

“I’ve been blessed, George,” Barry said. “Now who is this boy doing all the work?” he asked, noticing me carrying the heavy box of tools.

“This is my boy. Billy, this is Barry Steinberg.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking his hand.

“Good firm handshake, George,” Barry said. “I see he passed up his old man in height.”

“Yeah, about two years ago,” dad laughed. “What are you now, boy, six feet?”

“Five eleven,” I replied. “And a half.”

For some reason both dad and Barry found that hilarious. “Bet you’re quite the ladies’ man, aren’t you?” Barry smiled and lightly elbowed me in the ribs. “I’ll bet he’s glad he got his mother’s looks instead of yours!”

“He’ll have his mother’s hair if he keeps it growing like that,” dad laughed as we walked through the house.

“That’s the style kids like nowadays,” Barry replied. “You should see my kid’s hair. We all had buzz cuts in our day, didn’t we?”

We walked through the main hallway and through a door under the steps into the basement. It obviously wasn’t as nice as the upper floors, but it still had a rec room and some weight machines.

“Now here’s the furnace,” Barry explained. “I’ve had three guys come out here and look at it and they all said the same thing. Take it out and replace it with a newer model. But this old model is part of the house’s history and I’d like to keep it if I could. One of the guys mentioned your name and I knew that if you couldn’t fix it then it couldn’t be fixed.”

“That’s nice of you, Barry,” dad said. “But since the stroke I’m not as good as I used to be.”

“Well, like I said, if you can’t fix it then it can’t be done. I’ll just replace it. I’ve got to run to the office for a while, so I’ll leave you to do your thing. My son, Kyle, is around somewhere so if you need anything feel free to ask him.”

After Barry left, dad and I got to work. Dad made sure the power was off to the unit, then he had me open up the outer casing so he could examine the control panels. Dad stared and poked at the wires, switches and buttons for almost an hour. This was always the most boring part of the job. Dad could usually figure out a machine’s inner workings quickly, but this one was not only old but it had been repaired by so many different people over its life that there were repairs of older repairs of even older repairs. I could tell dad was getting frustrated.

“Now why would they…” he grumbled. “No wonder this thing’s not working.”

A kid about my age popped his head in the room after a while and asked us if we needed anything to drink. I assumed by the shaggy brown hair that this was Kyle. He was incredibly cute. He looked like he could have been a model. Dad asked for a diet soda and I jokingly asked for a beer. Dad continued his exploration of the furnace and I was bored out of my mind so I asked dad if I could help Kyle. Dad just waved his arm at me to shoo me off, so I followed Kyle up to the kitchen.

“So… You live in this place?” I asked.

“All my life,” Kyle replied, as if bored by my very presence.

“What’s it like living in a place like this?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he replied. His voice was pleasant to listen to, even if he was annoyed by me. “It’s okay I guess.”

“Your friends must really be impressed by it.”

“All my friends live in bigger houses than this crap hole,” Kyle grumbled. “I hate this place. I can’t wait to get out of here.”

“Oh…” I replied.

Kyle handed me a bottle of Diet Coke and a bottle of Rolling Rock beer. “Here you go.”

“Oh,” I said. “I was just kidding about the beer.”

“Whatever,” Kyle replied. He took the beer and handed me a Coke. Then he drank the beer. I returned to dad in the basement. Even though he was really cute, I didn’t like Kyle very much. Dad was on top of the furnace looking down into it with a flashlight.

“This fucking…” dad mumbled. “Aw goddammit!”

“You okay, dad?” I asked.

“Oh, I dropped the goddamn flashlight down there,” Dad barked. “Climb up here and see if you can reach it, boy. I climbed up to where dad was sitting and was able to reach the flashlight. Luckily it was still on and very easy to find.

“Are we going to be able to fix it?” I asked.

“Not in one night,” dad replied. “Back when I was useful I might have been able to do it, but not anymore.”

I had to make a few trips to the truck for dad to pick up things that he needed. I was used to that, though the long walk through the house made it seem like even more of a chore. Dad had totally disassembled the wiring box of the unit and was putting it all back together properly. He kept grumbling about the previous repairmen who had made such a mess of things. Dad kept me busy with odd jobs for a while, screwing and unscrewing this and that, replacing wires for him. Dad climbed under the unit and cursed again.

“Goddammit. Hey boy, hand me that three-eighths socket and ratchet,” he instructed.

“Okay, dad,” I replied, quickly grabbing what he asked for and giving it to him.

“Goddammit boy!” dad barked. “This is a three-eighths socket. I need a five-eighths socket!”

“But you asked me for…”

“I know what I fucking asked for.” dad snapped. “Just hand me a five-eighths socket, goddammit!” He stuck out his hand from under the machine. I knew he was frustrated, so I just did as I was told as quickly as I could. Suddenly I heard a clang and dad swore again.

“Owwww!!! Mother fucker!”

“Is it the wrong size?” I asked.

“No I dropped it on my head!” Dad grouched. “Dammit, boy, get under here!”

I quickly joined him under the machine.

“Take this ratchet and unscrew this goddamned bolt,” dad ordered.

“This one?” I asked.

“No! Weren’t you watching? That one!” dad said, pointing the bolt.

“Oh, okay. Sure thing, dad,” I replied and quickly did what dad had asked me to do. It continued like that for another hour or so. Dad was becoming more and more agitated as we worked. Swear words were flying with greater frequency that even Brett was known for. Dad was having a lot of trouble with his hands, and I knew it was bothering him that he had to rely on me so much. He had figured out most of the machine and was even beginning to put stuff back together. He grabbed a screwdriver and a metal screw and started working on closing up an electrical panel.

“I can do that dad,” I offered, reaching for the screwdriver. “Here, let me do it.”

But dad snapped at me. “I can screw a goddamn screw without you, boy!”

“Sorry, dad,” I said stiffly. I’d been on the brunt of dad’s anger for three hours and I was getting tired of it. Dad went back to his work, but then he fumbled the screwdriver out of his hands, along with the screw.

“Goddammit!” dad cursed angrily.

“Dad let me help you…” I said.

“Billy get the fuck out of my way!” dad insisted.

“But dad, I…”

“Shut up, boy!” dad snapped.

He picked up the screwdriver and screw, but he fumbled them both again, only this time the panel fell down as well and everything hit the floor with a tremendous crash. The screw disappeared and dad totally lost his temper. He tried to kick the screwdriver but his leg gave out and he tumbled to the floor.

“Oh shit! Dad are you alright?” I cried, jumping to his side.

“Shut the fuck up, boy! Goddammit!” dad exploded as he pushed me away. He climbed to his feet on his own. I hadn’t seen the look of anger I saw on his face since the night he’d slapped me. He grabbed his cane and with both hands he pounded the furnace with it three times. Then he tossed the cane across the room. “God damn it all!” he swore furiously. He kicked over the toolbox and sent tools and parts flying everywhere. Some of them hit me. “Worthless motherfucker!” He slammed the furnace with his bare hands taking out months of frustration with his body out on the helpless machine. Then leaned against it and he began to weep bitterly. “God damn this worthless fucking body…” I just stood there. I didn’t know what to do. I’d never seen my dad cry in my life.

“I’m useless!” he sobbed. “I’m fucking useless!”

“Dad…” I walked up behind him and put my hand on his shoulder.

“Get the fuck away from me, boy!” dad snapped. He shrugged my hand off of him and then pushed me away from him. He raised the back of his hand as if to hit me. “Get the fuck out of here!” he snapped.

“Fine,” I said. “Screw this. I don’t need this shit. I’ll take a cab home.” Then I walked out. I walked out of the room, up the basement stairs, down the long hallway. Truthfully, I was disturbed by what I’d seen. I knew my dad had a temper. Hell, I’d been on the receiving end of it. But this was something I’d never seen, and I couldn’t take it.

“Everything alright?” Kyle asked as I passed him in the hallway.

“Fuck off, Kyle,” I snapped as I pushed past him and out the door. I leaned against the truck and looked out over the yard. I calculated how much it would cost to get a ride home in a cab or something. Part of me was furious at my dad, but part of me just wanted to get away from him because I’d never seen him so defeated and hopeless.

After a few minutes I could hear him coming. It wasn’t hard to hear as his cane made a familiar sound as it hit the ground.

“Stay away from me,” I ordered, still looking out over the yard. “I swear to God if you try to punish me…”

“Billy, I’m sorry,” dad said softly.

“I don’t care,” I replied. I turned to face him, standing there in that driveway leaning all his weight on his cane. I saw him for what he really was. I’d always been so intimidated by him, but looking at him now, he looked old and weak. Now I was the stronger one. I was the taller one. I was a good three inches taller than him. I’d surpassed him. “I didn’t do anything to you. I didn’t make you diabetic. I didn’t make you drink Mountain Dew and smoke cigarettes. I damn sure didn’t deserve what just happened in there. You almost hit me!”

“You’re right, son,” dad replied. “You’re right and I’m sorry.”

“You should be sorry,” I replied.

“I am. Oh, Billy… Do you know how hard this is for me, son? I’m falling apart. I’m dying one piece at a time. I’m worn out like an old blanket. I used to be able to fix anything. Anything, Billy! I could have fixed that furnace down there and been done with it in one night. But now look at me. I’m useless. I can’t even tie my own goddamn shoes anymore. I’m worthless. Useless! Used up and worthless. And then I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t have to try and hit me,” I said. “All I wanted to do was help you.”

“You’re right, son,” dad admitted.

“It’s more than just what happened in there, dad. I feel like you don’t care about my feelings. I’ve always felt like I was always a chore to you. I feel like you didn’t want me. Like I was an inconvenience to you. You know what I mean?”

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” dad replied. “That’s not the way I feel about you.”

“Well how do you feel about me, dad? Because I’ve spent my life trying to live up to your expectations of me. It always seems like whatever I do it isn’t good enough for you. Like you never care about my feelings.”

“You know that’s not true,” dad protested.

“Yeah it is! Nothing I do is ever good enough for you. No matter what I do, you always find something to bitch about. If I get a ninety-nine on a test, you want to know what I missed. If I get a hundred, you say the test was too easy. I can never win with you!”

“Billy, I’m just trying to encourage you to do your best. That’s what parents are supposed to do. You’re so smart. I always thought I had to make you work harder than the other kids because I didn’t want you to get too cocky because you were such a bright boy. You were always a bright kid. You can do so much just on talent alone, with no effort. But you were always smart enough to know you were smart and I didn’t want you to get cocky about it like I did when I was your age. You could do so much, but your attitude gets in the way.”

“But don’t you see? I could understand if you were just pushing me to be my best, but even when I give my best it’s never enough for you. You never listen to me. I feel like I can’t tell you anything because you’re going to tell me I’m not good enough. I just can’t stand the bullshit anymore, dad. I’m tired of hiding who I am from you because I’m afraid I won’t measure up.”

“Billy, don’t you understand? You have done so much more than measure up to my expectations of you. You’ve exceeded them! I’m so proud of you. You’re going to be a far better man than I ever was. I just wish I had more time to spend with you. I don’t know how much longer we have to spend together.”

“Why do you talk like that, dad? You’re going to be around for a long time.”

“I wish I could agree with you, Billy. But either way, soon you’re going to move on and go to school. You’re not going to need your old man anymore. You’re going to get out of the Valley and be somebody. I just want you to be ready. There’s a bigger world out there than a shitty little town like Donora. You could live in a house like this someday. But even if you don’t, your mom and I are going to be proud of you no matter what.”

“I feel worn out sometimes too, dad! I feel like I have to be perfect for you.”

“Nobody expects you to be perfect.”

“Sure… It’s easy for you to say. You don’t know what it’s like to be me. If you really knew me, you’d hate me.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” I insisted.

“You’re wrong,” dad replied. “I know you better than you think, and I’ll always love you no matter who you love.”

I hesitated, allowing my mind to fully grasp what my dad had just said. “What did you say?” I asked.

“You know what I said,” dad replied. “Let me be clear. I know you’re gay, Billy. I’ve always known.”

I took a step back, as if I was going to run away from the conversation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied. “I’m not gay!”

“Billy, I know you love Brett.”

“I’m not doing anything with Brett,” I said almost instinctively.

“Yes you are. It’s alright, son,” dad said. “I know you love him. I’ve always known. All this time you think you’ve been hiding, but I know my son and I know how much Brett means to you, and how much he loves you right back. I think Brett’s a good boy.”

“I… I can’t believe this is happening. How long have you known?” I asked.

“Well, I guess I’ve known since you were a little boy, really. You… Well, you have never had a girlfriend, and I’ve seen the way you almost cringe at the thought. We’ve had conversations from time to time that have confirmed it to me like that time at the Ed’s house when you were so worried about someone hating you for who you love. But I knew even before then. It wasn’t easy to accept at first. I did stupid things like make you play baseball. But I knew that there was nothing that I did to make you the way you are and nothing I could have done to change you. And even if I could change you I wouldn’t. You are who you are and there’s nothing wrong with that. Then you brought this wild little boy home with you one day and you never left his side since. And you’ve only grown closer and closer since then. I saw this little boy who was just begging for someone to be a father to him and love him, and how could I not? He’s a special kid, and he loves you to death. That’s undeniable. Then one day your headboard started banging against the wall when he came over it was kind of obvious that your relationship had become… serious. I know what happened when I would close the door and turn up the radio in my room when I had a girl over when I was your age.”

“Okay,” I think I turned so red I was glowing in the dark.

“I don’t really need to know what you do behind closed doors. As long as you stay safe, you do what you need to do. I trust you to be responsible and careful and not to hurt him. I know you’ll stand up for yourself and not let people push you around. You know, if you’d been born in a different time, you would have been forced to do things right-handed, but you would have still been left-handed. That’s what you are. It’s the same way with this. I’m sure some people would love to make you straight if they could, but that’s not who you are. I don’t think I’d be a very good father if I tried to force you to be something that you’re not.”

“So you’re not mad at me?” I asked.

“Why would I be mad at you? Are you mad at me because I have to use a cane?” dad asked.

“No,” I laughed at the suggestion.

“Well then, there you go,” dad replied.

“Brett always said he thought you knew,” I said.

“Well, Brett’s a smart boy. He gets people,” dad replied. “You could learn a lot from him.”

“Does mom know?” I asked.

Dad sighed. “Of course she knows - but she doesn’t want to. She knows it in her head, but she won’t accept it in her heart. It’s going to take her a lot longer to accept. You boys aren’t as quiet as you think you are sometimes. Your room is pretty far away from your mom’s room, but the night Brett stayed with us after that storm it wasn’t hard to figure out what you were doing in there.”

“Oh god… You could hear us?” I asked.

“I think the neighbors could hear you that night. Remember, I usually sleep in the living room in my chair. But I’m sure your mom was asleep by the time the headboard started thumping against the wall and well, the other sounds started...”

“Oh my god!” I said, mortified. I remembered those sounds.

“Don’t be embarrassed. What you boys do behind closed doors is your own business. Just try to keep it down when your mother’s around or your business will become her business. Your mother doesn’t think about things logically like you and I do. She’s an emotional thinker. That preacher of hers isn’t helping matters either. I just pray that I last long enough to keep her from hurting you. I wish I could make your life easier, Billy. I wish we were at a point in time when something like this wouldn’t mean that your life is going to be more difficult. But we both know that there are people out there who will try to hurt you for being who you are. There are people who will hurt you because of who you love. I’m just glad that you and Brett have each other to support each other. If you didn’t have each other, I’d be a lot more worried about you. He’s a good kid.”

“Do you think you could talk to her?”

“I have tried, but she won’t hear it. There was a time when she might have been more willing to listen, but at this point… I really think this is something you two are going to have to work out together.”

“What about you and me?” I asked.

“What about us?” dad asked back.

“Well, I mean, now that it’s sort of official and everything… What happens now?”

Dad thought for a moment. “I guess we just continue on as we have been, except you don’t have to be afraid of me anymore. I’m not planning to treat you or Brett any differently than I always have. You’re not my ‘gay son,’ you’re my son and as far as I’m concerned so is Brett. I’m proud of the young men you’re becoming. When you’re ready to tell your mom I’ll be there.”

“Okay,” I replied. “Well I guess we should get back to work.”

I started to walk toward the house, but dad grabbed me and hugged me. “I love you, Billy,” he said. “And nothing you could ever do will change that. I love you just the way you are.”

“I love you too, old man,” I replied. “Hey, thanks for being cool. Most dads wouldn’t be like you.”

“Well, I’m not most dads. I’m your dad.”

I helped dad clean up the tools he’d knocked over, and we got things to the point where we could leave and come back the next day to finish the job. We stopped to eat a late dinner on the way home and had a really good conversation. For the first time in a long time, I really felt like I could be myself around my dad without trying to hide. It felt great. Dad even let me drive the truck home. Something had changed in our relationship after that. I felt like dad didn’t see me as a kid anymore or even a teenager, but that he saw me as a man. That felt best of all.