Enlightened (17 page)

It was deserted.

We took the stairs down the side of the rows of seats, past discarded popcorn buckets and sticky stains of spilled beverages, to the very front row. Propping our feet up on the railing, we sat in two seats directly in the middle of the row. Every few minutes we glanced back over our shoulders, but no one else entered the balcony. We looked down over the railing and saw that the main theater area was also pretty empty.

This movie must really suck, and I, for one, was grateful.

We settled back in the seats as the lights went down, working on the popcorn that we were forbidden to share. Within the first ten minutes of the movie, we knew where it was going, a melding of heterosexual machismo and sex, but I didn’t care. I was on a date with Jamie. No matter how bad the movie was, it was perfect because I was there with him.

Just as the ninjas, or whatever they were, back-flipped onto the screen for the third time, Jamie pulled out the generic, black-hooded sweatshirt that he had brought in. At first, I didn’t realize why he’d bothered. The theater was air conditioned but still not cold enough for a sweatshirt. I was even more confused when he laid it over his legs rather than putting it on. Then as he straightened it out, he took my hand underneath it, and I understood. He wanted us to be able to hold hands during the movie without taking the chance of anyone seeing the small gesture of affection.

It thrilled me that he was holding my hand in this place, around people, even if there were only a few and they weren’t in the balcony. The date meant as much to him as it did to me, but it saddened me as well.
Why did being together, here in this second-run theater, or anywhere else, have to constitute such a risk for us?
What I wanted more than anything was to lean over and rest my head on his shoulder while we finished watching the movie, but that would be like a neon sign flashing “fag” over our heads. I had to be content to take what I could get.

So I was.

Sitting in the theater, we held hands under the cover of the sweatshirt and ate popcorn for the next hour. Even though the movie was awful, it was the best time I’d had in a long time. For that short period, we felt somewhat normal, like our feelings for each other weren’t some kind of abomination, but rather something beautiful.

We continued to hold hands on the drive back to my house. However, in the safety of the car, we didn’t need the camouflage of the sweatshirt. Every once in a while, on a deserted stretch of road where no one could see, he would bring our entwined hands up to his lips or to caress my cheek. My heart swelled with each gesture. Just before reaching the Crayford city limits, he glanced around and pulled to the side of the road.

“I can’t kiss you goodnight on your doorstep like you deserve,” he said quietly, letting go of my hand for the first time since we left the theater. “It will have to be here.”

Jamie cupped both sides of my face in his hands, rubbing my cheek with his thumbs. Watching my face for a long minute before he leaned in, he captured my lips with his own, and every feeling of love and sexual desire escalated into a slow burn of heat through my skin. God, I loved the way he kissed me, like nothing else in the world mattered. The smell of popcorn still clung to his clothes, but there was something else, body wash or shampoo, something uniquely Jamie. The passion in our kiss continued to spiral as our tongues explored, danced against the other’s, and everything else was blocked out by its all-encompassing heat. Sun, moon, and stars took a backseat to him. Sacrificing my lunches for weeks was definitely worth it, even if just to have this kiss at the end of our very first date.

Jamie stopped the kiss before either of us got too carried away. Even though it was more chaste than I would have preferred, I got what I needed: his love, his comfort, and my very first real date with the boy who I could not live without.

T
HE
next morning, I was still thinking about my date with Jamie, holding his hand at the theater and kissing him in the car. I had just decided to jump in the shower and think about it more thoroughly when I was interrupted by a knock on my bedroom door.

“Brian, could I talk to you for a minute?” Richard asked as he stood in the doorway. Immediately, I was uneasy; my foster father rarely wanted to have a heart-to-heart, covering mostly superficial things at dinner but never anything that really mattered. Those talks were left up to Carolyn. It meant that he wanted to talk to me about something that Carolyn didn’t feel comfortable discussing with me… like sex.

Oh God, he knew about Jamie.

“Sure, Richard,” I said, trying not to let my voice crack from the fear that was now coursing through me.

Please don’t send me away. Please don’t tear me away from Jamie.

He was the first person in my life to ever truly love me, and I wasn’t going to give that up without a fight. I would be seventeen in just over two weeks, we could tough it out one more year, or I could run away from Richard and Carolyn and hide. It was as simple as that. Richard turned and motioned for me to follow him. The sinking feeling deepened when I saw that we were headed for his office, even more so when we headed to his computer. He sat down in his desk chair.

“A few days ago, I wanted to do some research on a rare gastrointestinal condition that I was trying to treat at the hospital. When I started to type in the search criteria, look what starts to auto-populate.” He typed in “g” and then “a” and to my horror “gay men” showed up as one of the recent searches. My palms started to sweat as he showed me the browser’s history, including some photos I was sure he never wanted to see.

I stood there, stunned.

The shame washed through me, and my face reddened. My eyes filled with tears. Trying not to cry, I looked out of the nearby window onto the street below as my mind went numb.

“Was this you?” he asked quietly, and there was absolutely no point in denying it. It’s not like Carolyn was going to come up here and search for “gay men.” I nodded, feeling the first of the tears fall. I knew from years of experience that it only took one phone call for them to get rid of me, and I would never see Jamie again. Belatedly, it occurred to me to tell him that I had done the search for a school report, but he would not have believed me. No teacher in his right mind would assign it, and the guilt was already etched onto my face that was streaked liberally with tears. I hung my head, waiting for it.

“Then there are a few things that I’d like to talk to you about.” I nodded, completely unable to look at him. He was going to send me back to the state, return me like a defective toaster.
Well, why the fuck not? I was a throwaway kid, right? Why, when I was finally happy, when I finally had someone who loved me?
All I could think about was Jamie.
Would they even tell him why they had sent me away?
Tracing a line in the worn carpeting with the front of my shoe, I heard my blood pounding in my ears. Desperately I wished Jamie was there with me, but of course, I also didn’t because he would be in trouble then too. Obviously there was nothing about Jamie in those searches, but it seemed like a simple leap to me, like there was a sign on my forehead.

“Are you using condoms?” Richard asked, breaking into my thoughts. My head jerked up, and I stared at him. It took me several seconds to even compose anything near a coherent reply.

“I don’t… I mean I haven’t… I’ve never….” I spluttered, entirely unable to convey to him that I had never had sex.

“Brian, I don’t want you to think that I’m prying into your sex life. I just want to make sure that you’re being safe. There are so many things that could happen if you’re not careful, not the least of which are HIV and AIDS. You’re a good kid, and I really care about you; I want to make sure you’re going to be okay.” It was the longest conversation that I think we’d ever had on any subject other than sports. To me, it was the most important conversation we’d ever had. He didn’t hate me; he was trying to look out for me. For the first time since I’d come to live with him, he was being a father to me. I couldn’t even come close to expressing the gratitude I felt for him, but I was sure as hell going to try.

Once I had decided to be honest, the dam broke, and everything that I had been holding inside for the last six months came spilling out. At first, my confession was just a small stream, breaching the cracks in my resolve, but as my words gained momentum, it turned into a flood. It felt so fucking good just to talk about it. So, I told him about my feelings for Jamie and about Pastor Moore’s sermon. I told him about being terrified all the time that someone would find out, that Jamie’s parents would find out. I told him about the girl at school that Jamie was pretending to date. However, I didn’t tell him what Jamie and I had done together sexually. That was something private, sacred, between Jamie and me.

We talked for more than an hour, and I learned more about him in that time than I had since he’d picked me up at the state home almost six years before. He hadn’t grown up in Alabama; originally, he was from New York and had come to Alabama to go to college. While at college, he’d met Carolyn and decided that he wanted to stay in the South and build a life with her.

“See, when I was a boy, my parents had my life all planned out for me,” Richard said, his eyes far away. “But I wasn’t meant to lead the life that they’d planned. They were both in law, and my father wanted to see my name on the door right below his. To say that I disappointed them by going into medicine would be an understatement. They found my choice to remain here in Alabama to practice a calamity. What destroyed my relationship with them, however, was their attitude toward Carolyn. I believe that people should live their lives on their own terms, Brian. Whether those terms are heterosexual, homosexual, law, medicine, etcetera, the choice is up to you.”

More than half of our conversation was centered on the mechanics of sex, gay sex in particular. As a doctor, he had a unique perspective on the subject. Using a banana, he taught me the right way to put on a condom, leaving space at the end for the semen. We discussed different kinds of lubricants, condoms, and some of the more sensitive topics of sex, so I could make good choices and be safe. I felt completely awkward asking him questions, but he answered every one with a clinical detachment. It was easier for him to talk about it in the abstract, because I knew talking about it with Jamie and I in mind was uncomfortable for him.

“Are you going to tell Carolyn?” I asked once we were finished with the awkward topics. Richard, with his gay New York friend, might understand about my sexual orientation, but Carolyn was a good, pure, Southern woman.
What would she think of me if she knew that Jamie and I were in an intimate relationship? Would she be appalled? Disgusted? Scared of what her sewing circle were going to think?

“No, you should tell her,” he said, standing up from his desk chair and heading for the door. “You’ll find her more sympathetic than you might imagine. She was brought up with strict Southern values, but she also has a mind of her own and strong opinions about certain topics. But she believes, like I do, that you should live life on your own terms. When she gave up her dream of being a child psychologist to marry me and raise our son, she weighed the choice carefully and did what her heart told her to do. When our son died, she questioned every decision she made. She just wasn’t the same woman.”

Richard’s eyes were sad as he spoke of the death of his son and what it had done to the woman that he obviously loved more than anything. “One day, she was working in her garden in the backyard, and a little girl wandered into our driveway. We had never seen the girl before, and she appeared to be lost and unkempt. Carolyn asked the little girl where she lived, but the girl wouldn’t speak. Finally, we got the police involved and found out that this poor lost child had been abandoned by her mother the day before. It was then that Carolyn knew that she wanted to help the girl, and we applied to be her foster parents.” He smiled at the memory. “So, having been through more than most people should in one lifetime, Carolyn has a different perspective on life than most people in this little town.”

“Thank you, Richard,” I told him earnestly. In spite of his discomfort, he had helped to calm some of my fears and answer all of my questions. I couldn’t have asked for a better counselor.

I stayed in the office for a while, watching the sun set through the open curtains, thinking about our discussion.
What kinds of implications would it have for Jamie and me?
I had just told our secret to an outside person. The more people who know a secret, the less secure the secret. We only had one more year, and then we could be together; we had to hold on. Of course we would still have to worry about hatred and bigotry, but we would be in charge of our own destinies and lives together.

I stalled, wondering how Carolyn would take my revelation. I was most afraid of disappointing her. She had always worked so hard to try and make me a good person, to make up for the life that I had been given, and I was about to tell her that I was flawed, in more ways than she’d originally thought. Not only was I concerned about disappointing her, but I questioned whether or not I should tell her about my relationship with Jamie.
That wasn’t my thing to tell, but what if she asked, or what if she guessed? Would she look at him differently once she knew?

Even though I wasn’t staying over at Jamie’s every weekend, I was still spending an increasing amount of time with him. It was summer; we didn’t have anything to do, so we spent almost all of our time together. Hanging out at the Schreibers’, or sometimes at Jamie’s, always making sure we weren’t too obvious. We tried to avoid the tree house as much as possible because we didn’t want to give any indication about what was going on in it when I stayed the night. Our sexual exploits were getting more and more adventurous. We hadn’t gone all the way yet, but we had gotten each other off in a variety of ways during the times I had stayed over. The last time, we had pleased each other with our mouths at the same time. It was so fucking hot, and I had tried my best to stay focused on pleasing him, but I kept losing my concentration because of what he was doing to me. Just thinking about it made me excited.