Ray of Sunlight (12 page)

She was the only person I had ever told about liking boys as well as girls. She was really cool about it, but told me that I probably really didn’t want to tell my dad. Grandma’s first husband had been extremely homophobic and had passed that down to my father, apparently. I never even thought about telling him. Even before she said that. It was obvious he wouldn’t have been okay with it.

And I had always known Mom wouldn’t be either. Then, when she married Allen, it was obvious he had a very similar attitude. I didn’t really want to tell either of them anyway, especially since I was just barely thirteen when they got married and had no plans to act on anything either way. I had my grandma. That was all I needed.

Allen had never been comfortable with me continuing to see her, though. She was my dad’s mother, after all, and something about that threatened him, I think. Add to that the fact that Mom and Grandma had never really gotten along, and their relationship just deteriorated even further after dad left. I knew all along trouble was brewing.

But then Grandma and Allen had a huge falling out. I never found out what it was over, but apparently it was irreconcilable. He forbade me to go to her house, and Mom upheld his decision. I had sneaked away a couple of times and gone to see her on the sly, but that had only gotten me in a lot of trouble with Allen. After a while, Grandma remarried and moved out of state, and it was no longer an issue.

We each tried to call the other for a while, and write letters, but Allen intercepted every form of communication, getting increasingly angry at me each time. Grandma told me the last time we talked that she was going to stop calling, because she loved me and she didn’t want my life with Allen to be any harder than it already was.

It wasn’t too long after that, though, that I started “acting out” and getting into some pretty serious trouble, including community service judgments and finally even juvie. I knew my grandma meant well, and probably truly thought she was doing what was best for me, but it felt to me like I had lost my one true supporter. It still felt like that sometimes, and I still missed her, especially around holidays in general, but on Christmas in particular. Christmas had always been “our day.” Now I had no one to spend Christmas afternoon with.

At least I hadn’t until this year.

This year, I had CJ.

I didn’t even ask Allen for his permission or tell him where I was going. Pete had gotten permission to spend the afternoon with Jacob down the street, and I just went with Pete. What we didn’t tell Allen was that Pete ended up going from our house to Jacob’s, two blocks down, by way of Children’s Hospital.

He dropped me off and told me when he’d pick me up again, and I rushed off to spend the rest of the day with CJ. I had bought him a little Christmas tree, already decorated, that we sat on his bedside table. When I came in, CJ was sleeping, and there were two packages sitting under it. I reached in my backpack and pulled out the gift I brought for him and tried to slip it under the tree before he woke up, but I wasn’t fast enough.

“You didn’t need to bring me anything, Russ,” he said sleepily.

“Right.” I rolled my eyes. “Because you didn’t get me anything. You got me two presents.”

“Hey.” He smiled as he raised his bed and sat up a little. “How do you know those are for you? Huh? Maybe they’re for Barbara and Ms. Carol.”

I chuckled. “Sure. That’s why they both have ‘Russ’ written on them.”

He laughed. “Okay, you got me. They’re yours.” He picked up one and handed it to me. “You first.”

I opened it. It was a gag gift. A big clown wig that was bald on the top with bushy red hair on the sides. At least I hoped it was a gag gift. I didn’t mind helping CJ with the clown shows, even being another clown, but so far I had dodged the makeup and wig. Some of my doubt must have shown on my face. CJ threw himself back against his pillow and howled with laughter.

“You should see your face, Russ.” He could hardly catch his breath, he was laughing so hard. “Priceless.”

“This had better be a joke.” I rolled my eyes again, sure now that it was.

He just continued laughing.

After a short while, he calmed down some and handed me the second gift.

“Don’t you want a turn first?” I was dying to give him my gift. I thought he’d really like it.

“No, that wasn’t your real turn. This is the real gift.”

I opened it with even more care and lifted out a photo album. I looked at him for a second, but he gestured for me to open it up. When I did, I was amazed. He had pictures of just about everything we had done together. There were pictures of a couple of the clown shows in the burn unit. No doubt taken by Ms. Carol. It just seemed like something she’d be in on. There were pictures of the mural in various stages of development and of different volunteers helping with it. There were also pictures of the Halloween party and my booth, with some of me drawing various kids. There were pictures of the Thanksgiving blowout and even of the carolers. I had no idea how he got those back so fast and put in the album. He had all of them labeled and dated and even had some speech bubbles by some of them saying funny things.

I loved it, and told him so.

He opened his present from me next. I had put a lot of work into it, and it was the first of its kind. When I had started it, I wasn’t even sure it would turn out, but I was really pleased with it. I had drawn a picture of him in full clown getup onto a T-shirt and then painted it with the handwritten caption of “Our Favorite Clown.” Then I had taken it to all three wards and gotten all the kids and staff to sign it around the picture as well as on the back and even on the sleeves. The parents who were there at the time signed too.

CJ was in awe. He just turned the shirt over and over in his hands and touched each name in turn. I thought he was going to cry. He didn’t, but I think it was a near thing. He stripped off his pajama top and threw it with a flourish onto the floor, then put the T-shirt on.

There
were
tears in his eyes when he said, “Thank you, Russ,” and pulled me in for a crushing hug.

O
NE
DAY
in January, I went into CJ’s room, and he was grinning like a Cheshire cat. When I asked him what he was up to, he just handed me a large manila envelope… from The New York Institute of Art. I noticed it had been opened, but made no move to see what was inside.

“What?” I just looked at him. He knew I didn’t have the grades to go to college, even if I wanted to. “If this is a brochure, you know—”

“It’s not a brochure.” He was still grinning, and I was beginning to get a little frightened. “Remember when you couldn’t find the draft pictures of the oncology mural before we started painting it? And then the picture of me went missing for a while?”

I nodded. I remembered. It was a little odd, but they turned up later, so no harm no foul.

“I got one of the nurses to get them copied.”

Okay. I wasn’t sure what he needed with copies of them, but he was certainly welcomed to them. I still didn’t know what it had to do with this envelope.

“You’re being dense, Russ.” He gave me a fake scowl.

“I often am,” I agreed. “You’re going to have to spell it out a little bit more, CJ.”

“I copied those drawings and got copies of some of the pictures you drew for the kids. When the parents found out what I was doing, they took pictures of the ones you did for them. I even called Pete and got him to get pictures or copies of the ones you did for the people at his church.”

“Why, though?” I wondered. “All you had to do was ask. I would have given you copies. I wouldn’t know why you’d want them, though.”

“I sent them to the Art Institute. I told them I was sending them in for a friend and asked if they thought you could get in for the fall session.” He was smiling wider by the word. “I didn’t say anything to you because I wasn’t sure what their answer would be, and I knew you’d tell me not to send it. You don’t have enough confidence in your abilities.”

“CJ…,” I started, “thanks, but I knew no college would accept me with the grades I have… let alone an art institute. I really appreciate the gesture, but—”

“Russ,” he interrupted, “look inside the envelope.”

I did. I pulled out a whole stack of papers with a letter on top stating,
We are pleased to inform you that….

“CJ. Did you even tell them what my grades were? Didn’t they need a transcript?”

“Well,” he said sheepishly, “I got Pete to tell the lady in the school office that you weren’t bringing your report cards home, and your parents wanted him to pick up a transcript for them to see.”

“They shouldn’t have given him that. Only I or the ’rents should be able to get that.”

“Well, he had a note from your parents.” But his face looked so guilty I knew who the note was really from.

“You forged a note from my parents? What are we? Twelve?” My voice was getting a little stern, but I had to admit, I was impressed and touched that he’d go to all that trouble for me. Not that it should have worked. I was going to have to talk to the school office staff about confidentiality.

I read the rest of the letter:
… tentative acceptance pending passing grades of C or better in your current classes and agreement on your part to take and pass remediation classes in English and Math once you start your tenure here at our university.
CJ was beaming and I was at a loss.

“Why would they accept me knowing I have a D average… probably C at best?”

“It’s a low C average across the four years,” he admitted with a grin, and I vowed to not only talk to the office staff, but quite possibly throttle several of them. But he was still talking, so I dragged my attention back to the conversation that CJ was continuing. “You’re talented, Russ. They can see that by your drawings I sent in. I picked the ones that show your versatility too. You can do realistic portraits, cartoonlike drawings… even abstract designs. Yes, I stole a couple of your colored ‘doodles.’ They loved those too. Read on in the letter. They say how much they appreciate your eye for color and layout as well as your raw talent for a variety of styles and mediums. You’re good, Russ. You deserve this.”

“I can’t afford it even if I can raise my grades and get in.”

“Russ.” CJ rolled his eyes. “You’re not reading the letter. They’re offering you a full four-year scholarship based on your talent. All you have to do is pay room and board, and they’ll offer you a campus job to make that much if you need it.”

I was at a loss. They were offering me a scholarship? I had to admit I was kind of impressed with my drawings, but they weren’t scholarship material.

But instead of saying any of that, which I knew CJ would argue with, I blurted the next thing that came to my head. “But, you didn’t even ask me if I wanted to go there.” Not that I didn’t. I had never thought I’d have a chance at something like that, so I had never thought about it. But now that it seemed to be a possibility, I wanted it… I really did. I loved to draw. CJ had given me the motivation to do that again and to even hope to dream. But that was all I could think of to say at the moment.

He frowned, and I immediately wished I hadn’t said that.

“It doesn’t obligate you, Russ. But you’re so gifted… and I knew you wouldn’t send it in on your own. I apologize if I overstepped my bounds. It’s kind of a problem I have… getting involved in things when maybe I shouldn’t. But—”

“I’m not mad or anything, CJ,” I backpedaled. “In fact, I’m touched that you even thought of it. I just… it never occurred to me that there’d be a chance….”

He smiled again, and I decided I much preferred that expression on his face than the other. “There’s a chance. All we need to do is get you to pass these courses.”

“Well, see, that could be a problem.” I tried to smile, but it suddenly occurred to me that my inattention to grades could have already cost me something I hadn’t even known I wanted. “I haven’t done anything in school this year, CJ. I was so done. I planned on dropping out next month, once I turned eighteen.”

That got a reaction. “You will
not
drop out of school. Russ, you have a great opportunity here. You can’t just—”

“Well, I see that,
now.
But I think it’s already too late. I got straight Fs for the first semester. I’d have to get straight As for the second semester to get the Cs they want. I’ve never gotten straight As before in my life.”

He smiled even wider. “You’ve never had me to help you before. We’ve got this. No problem.”

“What? You’re going to write my papers and take my tests for me?”

He mock frowned. “Of course not. I’m going to make you bust your butt studying with me and rewriting papers until I think they’ll get As for the rest of the frigging school year. You
will
get straight As.”

“CJ…,” I started to protest again, but I could see there was absolutely no use whatsoever. He was going to whip me into shape no matter what I thought about the idea. And, I had to admit, it felt good to have someone who cared.

CJ
SOMEHOW
got the staff to agree to let me spend pretty much all my community service time with him, painting the murals and doing the clown stuff, still, but mostly working on my schoolwork. I have no idea how he pulled that off, but then, he’s CJ, and no one seemed able to deny him anything he wanted.

He even enlisted Pete’s help, so, when I wasn’t at the hospital, Pete took over harassing me about assignments and helping me study for tests.

“Russ, that music is awfully loud.” Pete ducked his head through my doorway one evening at home. “Are you studying?”

“Pete, I’m not a machine. I need
some
relaxation.” I rolled my eyes.

“You have a test tomorrow,” Pete said. “I know this, because I’m in your class, and
I
have a test tomorrow.”

“So why aren’t
you
studying?”