Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Death is Not an Option - 18. Chapter 18
Not’n – nothing
Bit of bother – trouble
Yers’ll – you will
The party is a nightmare. I feel uncomfortable in these clothes. They are new and stiff and... not me. I am really grateful to Jon for buying them for me but... Hell... it’s not the clothes... it’s me. There are so many people here and I can’t...
Connor and Declan are here somewhere. There are so many people it’s hard to find anyone. Jon tries to stay close by but they keep dragging him away and then I am alone. I am alone now. I try to press myself into the corner but there is someone talking to me and I don’t even know who they are and they’re not making much sense and...and I hear... I hear...
The song is... I look around wildly for the singer. Everyone has gone quiet and the singing goes on. It is one of them I know it. The Irish lilt is unmistakable and it is truly beautiful.
The crowd parts and I see Grandma Sioban. She is frowning. She looks really angry. Why would she be angry when... when the song is so... beautiful? I know it is Connor. It must be... because it is making me shiver.
Struggling through a crowd of people which is suddenly seemingly trying to shut me out I manage to get to her side. She barely acknowledges me... she is so busy glaring at Connor. He is not looking at her but I know that he sees her, that he knows she is angry, because he has that smirk on his face and he is so pointedly NOT looking at her.
I am very confused. I can practically feel the anger radiating from my grandmother but I have no idea why. Connor sings like an angel. Standing against the fireplace with his hair brushed until it shines like silk, the unruly curls tamed into shimmering waves, his hips poured into pair of leather trousers that should have been illegal, he looks like an angel too. For a moment the intense blue eyes touch me and then move on. It was only a brief glance but it is as though in that single moment the universe stopped and there was nothing and no one in existence but the two of us.
And then, when he looks away reality comes flowing back and I feel naked, exposed, as though everyone had seen, everyone had heard my heart stop and my soul scream. I glance around, certain that everyone is looking at me, knowing. But no one even glances my way, they are all enraptured by the song. It is upbeat but haunting and sung in a sweet, lilting voice that fills my soul even more than it does my ears.
The island lies like a leaf upon the sea.
Green island like a leaf new-fallen from the tree.
Green turns to gold,
as morning breeze gently shakes the barley,
bending the yellow corn.
No force on Earth
can ever trap the wind that shakes the barley.
Sun in the yellow corn.
As the last notes die there are tears in my eyes. Some from the song and some from...something else. There is thunderous applause and Connor gives and exaggerated bow. Grandma takes a step forwards but before she can say a word he launches into another song. It is different to the last one, melancholic, soft, sweet. Again I feel the tears welling but am not entirely sure why. Grandma curses softly under her breath but it is lost in the hush, in the music. I hold my breath as the glorious voice swells and sinks, caught by the sweet passion, the intensity in the blue eyes that seems to be looking into another place, another time.
How sweet is life but we're crying,
How mellow the wine but it's dry,
How fragrant the rose but it's dying,
How gentle the breeze but it sighs,
What good is in youth when it's aging,
What joy is in eyes that can't see,
When there's sorrow in sunshine and flowers,
And still only our rivers run free
When the song ends there is a hush before the applause begins again. Connor looks around as though he is surprised to find that he is here, that we are here. He smiles, a slightly uncertain smile but before he has a chance to even think about another song Grandma steps forward and grabs his arm, pulling him close in a hug. I think, perhaps, that it is only me who hears the soft words.
“Enough Connor. You are disrespecting the hospitality shown to us in this place. You dishonour us. Dis is not the time nor de place. You wish to be treated like a man, start acting like one. Enough.”
Connor pulls away and looks into her eyes, a mutinous look on his face and words trembling on his lips that go unspoken. He notices me and for a moment our eyes lock.
“So what did you think of me songs Isaac?”
I feel like a rabbit caught in headlights. I want to say that I thought he sang like an angel, that the music, the words, and the singer were all truly beautiful but...
“I... I thought... you... I thought...” His lip curls in a sneer and then he whirls and is gone, swallowed by the crowd. Grandma turns sharply, as if she only then notices I am here. She smiles, but it does not reach her eyes.
“Pay him no mind Isaac. He’s a fool, an idealistic fool at that, and his hot headeness will get him into deep trouble one of these days.” She smiles again, probably at my blank expression and this time it is a real one. “But dis is yer party Isaac. Don't worry about Connor. He’ll hide in a corner for a while fuming but it won’t hurt him none. Now, I hear music and I would be delighted if me beautiful grandson would do this old lady the great honour of taking me for a whirl around the dance floor.”
“I... I er... I can't dance.”
“That’s no worry to me... neither can I.”
Her twinkling eyes and bright smile thaws the ice that had formed around my heart and she leads me into the next room and then... somehow I am dancing. I have never danced. Oh we had dances at the community, we had them often. Caleb encouraged them. He said they promoted community spirit and burned off unwanted energy. But I always stayed on the sidelines, or took the opportunity when everyone else was busy to sneak off on my own. Caleb...
Thinking about him makes me feel afraid, as if his spirit is still hanging over me, breathing down my neck. Every time I think about him I see his face, the way it was that last night, hovering over me as his poison coursed through my veins and his hands closed on my throat. It is a warm night, even more so in here with all the people, the bodies, but I am cold... so cold.
Doing my best to smile I excuse myself and stumble through the crowd. I hear my grandmother call after me but I can’t turn, have no idea what she said. Faces loom out of the crowd. They smile and their lips move but all I can think of is getting away. I am so afraid, so... trapped. I have to get out. I have to... I have to...
The French doors onto the patio are thrown wide and the party has spilled out into the garden. It is a big house with a bigger garden and it stretches away from me, the lawn sloping slightly into darkness. All I can think of is to get away from the people, to be swallowed by the darkness, to be alone.
No one follows as I stumble, half running, across the lawn and soon the darkness closes around me and the sweet scents and soft sounds of the night sooth me, calm my ruffled nerves. I am angry with myself. How can I still let him affect me like this? I am strong. I am stronger than this.
I am still stumbling as I reach the edge of the lawn, my breath ragged and my mind in a whirl. Beyond the lawn there is a low wall and steps down onto a larger patio. I am at the bottom of the steps when I see a dark shape looming, hunched over the wall. Something glows, like a tiny beacon in the darkness.
Partly because I am intrigued by the glow and partly because I am too proud just to turn and walk away right now I move forwards slowly across the cold, smooth stones. The figure straightens and turns, the glow moving with them, sharp, harsh orange in the gentle pale moonlight. I groan inwardly. It had to be... it just had to be... him.
He watches me, his face impassive, the cigarette flaring now and again as he takes a draw. In its light his face seems demonic.
I walk to the wall, close to him but not touching, and lean over feeling the updraft of cool air, welcome on my hot face. I can feel his eyes burning into my back. Why doesn’t he say something?
“D’yer want a fag?” He pauses and I hear the smirk in his voice, although I don’t understand the joke. “Or a cigarette even?”
“I...” Okay, there is NO way I am going to admit that I have never smoked a cigarette. He already thinks I'm some kind of half witted freak. Almost of its own accord my hand reaches out and takes the slim cylinder from his fingers. As I do so his hand brushes mine and I jerk away as a shock jolts through me. “Thank you.”
Now that I have it I am not sure what to do with it. I put it in my mouth and it seems okay. Connor flips on his lighter and I jump when the flame flares, illuminating our faces. His looks highly amused. I lean in slightly but before the lighter touches the cigarette Connor takes it from my lips, flips it and gently inserts it again. It is such a small thing but so sensuous it sends shivers though me. Still smiling he touches the lighter to the end of the cigarette. Nothing happens.
“It helps if you take a draw Isaac... you know... suck.”
His voice is so... his words low and so... I can barely breathe, but I follow his instructions and suck. But now I am left with a mouth full of smoke and no idea what to do next. After a moment I have to let it out. Connor laughs, a rich musical sound that turns me to jelly. His eyes never leave mine.
“You’re supposed to breathe it in. It’s pointless otherwise.”
Obediently, still with my eyes locked with his I suck and inhale deeply. Fuck! Fuck! I spit out the cigarette and choke, retching. The bastard! He knew. He KNEW. Somehow I manage not to throw up all over him. I turn away, still coughing and it is touch and go for a moment. The taste! The burning in my chest! People do this for fun?
I eventually get both my chest and my stomach back under control and turn back to face him. I can see through streaming eyes that he is laughing silently, his eyes mocking.
“I take it you have never had one o’dem before.”
“You bastard. You knew that. You knew what it would do to me.”
“I know not’n about yer Isaac, not’n. Why don’t yer tell me?” His voice is soft, not mocking at all and his eyes... his eyes are...
“Tell you what?”
“Tell me about Isaac.”
I am confused. What does he expect from me? He should be... he shouldn’t... “I don’t know. What do you want to know?”
“Well for one thing it would be grand to hear you string one sentence together without running out on me.”
“Well if... if you... if... Fuck!” Here I go again. Why does he do this to me? He knows I am embarrassed, he must do. He’s mocking me, he’s always mocking me. Does he hate me so much? “What have I done to you?”
“Done? What are you talking about?”
“Why do you keep..? Why do you hate me?”
“Hate yer? I don’t hate yer. Why would you be thinking a crazy thing like that?”
His voice is still soft, still amused but there is something in the way he is looking at me, an intensity that makes my body shiver, my heart ache. In the moonlight, alone in the garden he feels feral, dangerous and yet... and yet... He takes a step towards me and I have to steel myself not to step back.
“It’s just that you... you’re always mocking me. I can’t help being as I am. So I haven’t tasted alcohol or smoked a cigarette... how does that give you the right to make a fool out of me?”
“I wouldn’t dream of making a fool of you Isaac... you manage so well by yourself.”
“Stop it. Why do you do that?” I am suddenly angry, more angry than I can ever remember being before. The night is not dark, the moon is hanging low over the horizon, and by now it is so bright I can see every line of his face, every curve, every expression. At the moment the expression is changing. The mocking smile has disappeared. “What the hell have I done to upset you so much? If you didn’t want to come then I’m sorry but that’s not my fault. I’ve had enough shit in my life lately without... without... you.”
His expression is dark now, defensive. He frowns. “I don’t hate yer Issac. You’re right I didn’t want ter come. I was.... persuaded. And that’s got not’n to do wid’ yer. I... got into a bit of bother....but... Now that I’m here I’m glad I came, so I am.”
“You... you are?”
“Aye. That I am.”
“Why?”
He pauses and drops his eyes then takes another step. We are very close now, almost touching. He is tall, as tall as I am, almost the same height, almost the same build. It must run in the family. Shit. I had forgotten we are related, that he is my cousin. Does that make this wrong? The way I feel, the things I want to do. I want... I want to reach out, to touch him, to feel him touch me.
“You are very beautiful Isaac. I didn’t expect that. I didn’t...” For the first time ever he sounds uncertain, but it doesn’t last long. “There is a lot about you I didn’t expect, like the fact that you are so bloody innocent. It’s like you’re from another planet, so it is. Sometimes I think that you put it on for effect. No one could be that fecking perfect, untouched.”
“I’m not perfect.”
“No. You’re not. You’re clumsy, and strange, and naive, and innocent and a babbling eejit and...”
“Fuck you.” I don’t need this. My head is aching and my pride even more so. I am not going to stand here and listen to him listing my faults. This is too much, just too much. I turn away and take a step towards the steps but a powerful hand grips my arm and spins me around and somehow I am in his arms and then...and then...
His lips are warm and dry and very, very soft. The kiss is brief, just a gentle brush of his lips against mine and then he releases me and I reel backwards. Shit, I am going to end up flat on my arse at his feet. Not happening. My back hits the wall and relief floods me. Getting my balance I haul myself upright and stand as tall as I can, my wounded pride providing iron to my spine.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”
“Didn’t mean...? How can you ‘not mean’ to kiss someone? It isn’t something you do by accident.”
“I know but...” He isn’t mocking any more. In fact he seems more uncertain, more shocked than I am. “Are ye... I mean, do ye... I’m not even sure that ye... I’m fecking this up right an proper aren’t I?”
“I don’t know what you want from me. I didn’t think you even liked me.”
“Like yer? Feck Isaac... I... I'm possessed by yer. From the moment I first set me eyes on yer I’ve been... I’ve felt... You’re an addiction, like a drug. I could never hope to understand yer, and yet... I can’t get yer out o’me mind. Last night I dreamed about yer, so I did. Feck I’ve bin goin out o me head. I’ve bin fighting it, so I have, with everything in me but...”
I lean back over the wall, away from him as he turns and looms over my. My heart is beating so fast I can barely breathe. I can hear it thumping, pounding in my ears and my head. I must look like a frightened rabbit. I am pressed against the wall which reaches to just above my waist and Connor straddles me encircling my waist with his arm and drawing me back towards him.
“Do yer like bein close to me Isaac? Do you like it when I do this?”
He raises his hand and smoothes the hair out of my face. I close my eyes and turn my face towards his hand. I am trembling all over and if it hadn’t been for the wall and his body pressing me against it I would have fallen. My legs feel like jelly, too weak to hold me. Connor pulls me closer and kisses me again and I melt.
Honest to god it feels as though the earth falls away from beneath my feet and nothing, but nothing exists except him and me. I am sure he must be able to hear my heart, it is about to burst out of my chest and I think I am about to faint. God that would be embarrassing.
Connor’s lips are growing more demanding, crushing mine, parting them and... I jerk my head back when his tongue snakes out and touches mine. “What... what are you doing?”
Connor’s head draws back and he smiles at me. It is a slightly dazed smile. “Just don’t even tell me that you have never kissed like this before.”
“I... I’ve never kissed at all. I mean... pecks on the cheek and...”
“Feck Isaac... you’re such a virgin.”
“You say that as if you are accusing me of something bad.”
He is staring at me and the look in his eyes is scaring me. He is so intense, so certain, so strong... I remember what Jon said and he’s right... Connor does have the look of a predator, a great black cat and I am his prey. I want to break away. I want to run from him but... he is so close, I can smell his smell, musky and sweet. I can feel his breath on my face. It smells of smoke. Not cigarette smoke, but smoky like wood fires, reminding me of home.
Home. I have no home. I have a family but... I have no home, not yet. My head is spinning and I have no idea how I am supposed to feel. I want him to kiss me again but I am so scared. If he does where will it lead, if he doesn’t how will I be able to go on living? I can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe. I can only stare up at him, off balance in every way.
Again he lays his hand against the side of my face and smiles the gentlest smile I have ever seen. “There’s nothing bad about you Isaac, nothing at all.”
I close my eyes as his thumb strokes my cheek and his other hand moves down into the small of my back pulling me hard against him. His hips press me against the wall revealing unashamedly that his hold is not the only thing that is hard. Suddenly I am terrified. This isn’t just about kissing any more... this is... this is... hell I have no idea what this is. I have to get away before it goes any further... before... before...
Struggling to keep my rising panic under control I try to rationalise, to focus just on the look in his eyes, the moonlight on his face, the way being this close to him makes me feel but my mind is racing ahead, obsessing on the hardness between my legs, the answering throb in my own body. What happens now? What happens when his hand moves from my face? What happens when he wants to go further? What happens when....?
I can’t do this, I can’t. I thought I knew... I thought I had decided... I thought I understood. The whole kiss thing has completely thrown me. Surely a kiss should be simple, just a kiss... just a kiss but... even that... I am so confused, so afraid, so... I have to stop this. I have to get out of here. I have to... I have to...
Bringing up my arms I press my hands against his chest, pushing him away. He resists, trying to pull me closer, claiming my lips with his own.
“No.” Jerking my head back I try to push against him but he is so much stronger than I am and he is not inclined to let me go. He is breathing hard, his body tense and his mouth demanding... demanding something I can’t give. I begin to feel trapped, panicky, and I struggle, trying desperately to break free but I am pressed against the wall by the weight of his body and there is nothing I can do. From nowhere the image of Caleb rises in my mind and with it the feeling of helplessness, hopelessness. But I am not helpless, not this time. Desperate but not helpless, not by any means.
I know that I cannot fight him. He is much stronger than I am and his weight pinning me to the wall is more than I can match. I don’t want to hurt him but, if he is not listening me, and he will not free my lips for long enough to allow me to speak... there is only one thing I can do and I do it. My struggles have produced a slight gap between us. His hips are no longer thrusting against mine and there is just enough room to allow me to bring my knee up sharply to meet with his groin.
With a sharp cry he releases me and staggers back, holding himself and gasping. “What the feck...?”
I don’t wait to hear what else he has to say because I am running. My heart is pounding, hurting so much it occurs to me to wonder if it is failing again, and then to realise that the pain is not physical at all. I hurtle across the grass and am suddenly surrounded by people and noise and light. I am desperate. What if he comes after me? What if he doesn’t? I can't be here any more. It’s unbearable.
Now that the fear is receding the embarrassment grows to proportions that dwarf it. What have I done? What have I done? Pushing heedless through the crowd I have no idea where I am going, what I am doing. It is with enormous relief that I see a familiar back appear out of the crowd.
“Jon.” Startled by the panic in my voice he turns, a look of surprise on his face and I practically throw myself into his arms.
“Whoah there Isaac. What’s up? What’s wrong?”
“I want to go home. Please... please take me home.”
“What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
“Nothing. It’s just... just... this is too much. This is all too much. Please just take me home.”
“Isaac, sure I’ll take you home. Just hold on for a moment while I find Sean but... you look terrible, what’s happened?”
“I... I just... I...” I can’t tell him. I can’t. I am so confused, so embarrassed. What will Connor think of me? He already thinks I’m an idiot, an inexperienced, foolish virgin. I am. Oh hell... that’s what I am and Jon was right... Connor is so far out of my league he’s playing a different game altogether. I am such a fool. I should never have imagined.... I should never have let it go so far.
“There you are Isaac. I have been looking all over for you. Everyone’s been asking...”
“I’m going to take Isaac home mother. He’s finding things a bit much. He’s not really up to this right now.”
“Nonsense. You’ll be alright, won’t you dear? You haven’t had anything to eat yet have you Isaac, that’s what it’ll be? Come on, I’ll get you something from the buffet.”
I find myself taken by the arm and drawn back into the crowd. I want to cling on to Jon weeping like a child. I am so confused. My head hurts. It is so hot in here, so many people. Suddenly the heat becomes oppressive and I feel as though I can’t breathe. Faces swim past me, bodies pressing in on all sides. Sounds blur into one jarring cacophony and the room seems to be tilting. I close my eyes for a moment and find that I can’t open them again. Shit... just great. Shit, shit... I am going to faint. No. I mustn’t. That would be the greatest indignity. All these people... Connor... I mustn’t.
Grandmother’s hand on my arm, towing me in her wake, is the only thing that feels real. There are voices and music but they are far away and I don’t even feel as though my feet are on the ground. I open my eyes and everything is spinning. My knees begin to buckle and... suddenly Jon is there... tall and strong, his arm around my waist. I sag against him and rest my head on his shoulder.
“It’s alright mate. There’s a room through there, the door just to your right. Just a few steps. Come on, you can do it.”
I am barely aware of moving, of passing through the doorway, but, all at once there is cool space, no bodies, no noise, I raise my head and meet Jon’s eyes just before it all fades and then there is nothing.
It seems like only moments before I’m blinking open my eyes and there is someone bending over me. The shape is indistinct. All I can tell is that it is male and dark.
“Connor?”
“Connor? I should’a known he’d have had something ter do wid dis.” The angry female voice is not emanating from the person who is bending over me. For a moment I am confused and then it a floods back. Shit! I sit up so fast I almost knock heads with Jon. He presses me back.
“Easy now. You’re okay. Just relax for a minute, get your bearings.”
My eyes slide past him to see both grandmothers and Jon’s mother staring at me. Two of them have anxious eyes, the other is sparking angry.
“I... Connor didn’t do anything. It was me.”
“Aye? Now why am I finding it so hard to believe that?”
“I... made a fool of myself... please...”
Moving Jon gently out of the way she perched on the edge of the sofa and I scooted over to give her more room. Her eyes turn soft and she smiles. Her hand is cool as she brushes the hair away from my face. I feel hot, prickly all over, uncomfortable in my own body.
“Don’t you go worrying yerself now Isaac. I won’t be saying anything to Connor but... He has a knack of getting himself into trouble does that one. You watch out for him. He’s a good lad but... he gets carried away wid himself. He can be...a bit much but don’t yer mind him. Yers’ll get on well enough ye’ll see.”
“I... We were... I... I mean we did... get along. He wasn’t... bad to me. It’s just I... I... It was me. It was all me. Everything was... it all got too much. I was all alone and then... and then I wasn’t and it went from nothing to everything and I haven’t had time to think. There were so many people and I had to get away and it was dark and I didn’t know he was there. Then he gave me a cigarette and I... it was...”
“He gave you a cigarette? Do you smoke?”
“No. It almost made me sick.”
“I can imagine.”
My grandmothers are exchanging glances. Both of them look terse and disapproving. Grandma Sioban shrugs helplessly.
“Please... I shouldn’t have said that... I didn’t want to. I am making such a mess of this, all of it.”
Sudddenly it all comes crashing down on me... the confusion, the embarrassment, the pain. My grandmother takes me into her arms and I sob until I am too exhausted to cry any more. All the while she holds me, gently but firmly and rocks me like a child, whispering in her soft Irish voice, words that I don’t understand but find strangely comforting.
When I’m finished and I hiccup into silence she lays me back against the cushions and wipes my face with the corner of her dress. I feel empty, completely empty and so tired. I just want to close my eyes and go to sleep but they are all watching me. I squirm, embarrassed.
“Alright. I think Isaac’s had more than enough for one night. Come on mate. Let’s get you home.”
Grandma gets up and she and Jon help me to my feet. I feel strangely disconnected, lighter than air and I am very shaky. Jon puts his arm around me and I am so glad to lean on him. I don’t even care about the people who will stare at me when we pass.
I am surprised to find that we are in a long cool hall. It is very quiet. There is no sound, no people.
“Have they all gone?”
“No. They’re still there. We’re coming the back way. I figured you would not want to have to say goodbye to everyone tonight.”
I am so grateful that tears spring into my eyes again and I bite my lip to help keep them back. Sean is waiting in the car at the side gate and he gives me a bright smile as I climb in the back. I watch the house as it slips into the distance, all the light blazing. All those people...Connor.
The pain takes me by surprise, lancing through me like a tongue of flame. I somehow manage to not cry out and bite down harder on my lip, tasting the tang of blood before I even feel any pain. The pain is, of course not physical but it hurts nevertheless. My first kiss. Wasn’t it supposed to be special, magical? Surely it’s not supposed to hurt like this. Connor is... he is so beautiful, so vital, so exciting but I am terrified of him, terrified of the way he makes me feel. What if I was wrong? What if this isn't what I want? What if I’m not...not gay?
It’s the first time I have ever directly addressed the issue. My mind has constantly slid away from any thought about it since my conversation with Jon at the hospital. I suppose I am afraid of it, afraid to reach a conclusion one way or another. I am afraid of sex, afraid of what I am, afraid of what I’m not. My reaction to Connor this evening terrifies me. What if I am nothing? What if I can’t open to anyone? Am I doomed to be forever alone? Am I going live and die a virgin? Am I going to spend the rest of my life being afraid?
This isn’t like me. I have always been brave. I have hardly ever been afraid of anything... and now I am afraid of everything. This is... I hate it. It hurts.
I glance up and notice that Sean is looking at me in the rear view mirror. He catches my eye and smiles. It is a warm understanding smile and the fear releases me a little. As the fear dissolves so does the world and I slide into sleep feeling a little better.
I don’t remember arriving home. I don’t remember getting out of the car. I don’t remember getting into bed. I wake suddenly in the middle of the night and I am tucked up snugly, the moonlight streaming through the window, the clock showing 3am. A memory floats into my mind and makes me smile, makes me feel warm and sweet and happy. It was the memory of a kiss, a soft, sweet, gentle kiss.
Still smiling I sink into sleep again and know nothing more until morning.
and 'Only Our Rivers Run Free' by Mickey MacConnell sung by Christy Moore
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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