Remember My Name (30 page)

Jackson

Mom has given me plenty of
space in the days since Benny and I showed up unannounced at her condo, but I
know she’s been waiting to have some real one-on-one time with me. So when
Benny tells me that he’s going to spend the morning catching up with a friend
from high school, Mom jumps on the chance and invites me to go to a little
indie coffee shop near their condo.

I don’t know what she wants
to talk about, or if it’s anything specific at all, but as we walk down the
street lined with towering condo buildings, I come to a decision about what
I
want to say today. Pulling out my phone as we walk, I tap out a text to Benny.
I’m
going to come out to Mom.

Almost instantly, I get a
response.
Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. She loves you no matter what.

Thanks
.
I message him back, feeling bolstered by his words.

And so do I.

You what?

Love you no matter what.
Thinking of you bro!

I smile after I read that,
checking quickly to make sure that Mom isn’t annoyed that I’m texting. She
smiles back but doesn’t ask me to put my phone away, seeming content to enjoy
the morning sun in silence.
Love you broseph.

Again his response is
immediate.
Love you brohan.
Grinning, I think quickly to keep this
going, watching the messages pop up one after another.

Me:
Love you bromigo.

Ben:
Love you brofessor.

Me:
Love you broseidon.

Ben:
Love you brometheus.

Me:
Love you bromeo.

Ben:
Love you my little brony.

It takes me a second to get
that before I burst out laughing. Getting a look from Mom, I finally put away
my phone. I can’t believe how lucky we are to have found each other again. It
seems like the slightest thing at any point this summer could have ruined our
chances, but we made it. And now we have something that I wouldn’t trade the
world for.

Mom and I have just sat down
with our iced coffees at a tiny round table near the window, but neither of us
has taken a sip yet. Across from me, her eyes shine blue just like mine and
Benny’s. It’s just one of a slew of features that the three of us share, making
me wonder how much Benny and I actually inherited from our dad. Even the hands
clutching her plastic cup are like ours too, except they carry years that we
haven’t yet seen.

“I’ve missed you,” she says.

Looking up from her hands, I
echo her words. “I missed you too.” Deep resentment prickles in my chest,
despite my words. She should never have left in the first place.

Instead of the thing I
wanted to talk to her about, this new feeling muscles its way into my mind. No
matter how much I might enjoy having Mom back in my life, it can never be real
unless I understand why she did what she did. Emotion coils up in my throat
until I can’t bear it any longer. “Why did you choose Ben?” The sounds feel so
much sharper when I say them out loud.

“Oh, Jackson.” Her voice
rings with regret. Reaching across the table, she grips my hand. Her fingers
fade toward white as she squeezes. “It was the hardest thing I have ever done.”
Her lips tremble as she speaks, but her fingers hold tight to mine. “I hated
myself for it. Every single day that passed, I promised myself that once I was
back on my feet, I would fight to get you too. You have to understand that it
could have taken months to get full custody of you both. I didn’t have the
resources for a protracted divorce case. At least not while working a part-time
job and being a mother to two ten-year-old boys–” She stops abruptly,
trying to swallow away the tears gleaming around her eyes.

Taking a deep breath, she
forges on. “I took the job out here, because it was the fastest way to get
ahead. It took three long years, but I wanted to be sure. I had enough saved to
hire the best lawyer in the state to get you back. But after I started the
process, you just stopped talking to me–”

I cut her off, speaking
quickly, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Her smile is weak. “Maybe
not, but you were right. You were so right, Jackson. I should have found
another way.”

It feels good to hear that,
but something is still bothering me. My jaw clenches. I shouldn’t ask this, but
I’m more afraid of not knowing than I am of what she might say. “You haven’t
said why you took Benny and not me.”

Releasing my hand, she runs
her fingers gently through my hair, finally bringing them to a rest on my
cheek. “Because you were stronger than Ben.” The words sink in for a moment
before she continues. “But you went through more than you ever should have had
to. Living with your father was very challenging for me, but he never, ever hit
or abused any of us. At least not physically. I would never have left you there
if I thought even for a second that he would hurt you in any way.”

Before she can say anything
more, I stand up and pull her into a hug. Her warmth cascades over me.
Comforting, and healing. I still hate that she left, but at least now I
understand. I think people are watching us, but I don’t care. She holds me for
a full minute, her cheek pressed so close against mine that I feel her
eyelashes whisk against my skin when she blinks.

After we take our seats
again, Mom says softly, “Ben told me a lot of things that happened when you
were at your dad’s. Do you want to talk about that?”

“What can I say?” I shrug
and finally take my first drink of coffee, letting the chilled liquid glide
over my tongue. “It sucked, and toward the end it got pretty bad, but I’m not
there anymore. Now I just want to move on.”

“You might be able to press
charges against him, if you wanted,” she says, her face reflecting compassion.
“But it doesn’t sound like that’s what you want.”

I shake my head. “I just
want to go to college. As long as I don’t have to go back there, I don’t care.”

“You never have to go back.
Not for the summers, not for winter break, not even for a visit if you don’t
want.”

Would she say that if she
knew everything? “There was something that Ben didn’t tell you.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrows rise in
piqued curiosity. “And what would that be?”

Memories come tumbling back
from the summer and the times I got outed. Getting caught jerking off, an
overheard conversation, and small town gossip. But this time it’s up to me to
share this message with someone, in my own way.

“Benny and I… are
different,” I say, unsure how to say this without actually saying it. Mom’s
smile encourages me to go on, even though I’m not sure how. “The reason that
Dad freaked out so much at the end, it’s because he found out that I–” My
voice stops. Why am I so afraid to admit this?

Mom’s hand tightens around
her coffee, forcing the plastic cup to bend inward and the beads of
condensation to grapple with her fingers. “You can tell me anything,” she says.

“I… prefer to be with guys.”

“Like for your friends?” She
sounds confused.

Oh, Christ. In that moment,
I decide that if I’m going to do this, I might as well go the whole way,
because I don’t want any part of my life to be just tolerated. I want
acceptance, or nothing at all. “No, Mom. I
like
guys.”

Her eyes grow wide. “Are you
sure?”

Frowning, I consider how
best to make it clear. “Yes, I am absolutely sure that I like dick.” I give her
a look.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have
asked that,” she says, blushing. “Of course you know what you like, I’m just a
little surprised.”

“What do you think about
that?” I ask, staring her down.

Chuckling, she gives me a
big smile. “You’re my son, Jackson, and I want you to be happy. Whoever you end
up with is going to be one lucky guy.”

With this simple statement,
the tension across my chest dissipates, leaving me smiling back at her and
ultimately glad that I decided to share this part of myself with her.
Thankfully, she doesn’t ask any uncomfortable questions about relationships,
instead steering us back toward safer topics like college plans and what I like
to do in my free time. And all the while, time sneaks past, watching over our
conversation like an invisible conductor counting out the beats. It makes me
sad that my relationship with her was put on hold for years just like mine and
Benny’s. I want to move forward, and I think Mom does too.

Jackson

Four Weeks Later

“Just take it. I’ve hated
that car since the day I bought it. It’s like driving a tank with a
turbo-whatever,” Mom complains.

Benny looks annoyed. “No,
Mom, that engine is naturally aspirated.”

“Huh?” She sounds confused.

“He means there’s no
turbocharger,” I clarify with a snicker.

“Oh, whatever. It has a
bigger engine than anyone ought to have. I shouldn’t even let you take it, come
to think of it.”

My brother speaks fast, like
he’s trying to ward off impending disaster. “We’ll drive it safe. And you know
that car has like a forty-star crash rating.”

“Good thing too, because
you’ll probably crash it. I know how you drive,” she huffs.

“I won’t crash it, I promise,”
he whines. “Besides, Jacks will drive half the time too. He drives like a
grandma, so it will all even out.”

“I don’t drive like a
grandma,” I snap. He returns a warning look that says,
don’t mess this up.

Mom sighs. “Please don’t
make me regret this.”

Benny grins because he knows
he’s won her over. Soon it’s going to be just the two of us on our own.

I don’t know how she did it,
but after numerous phone calls and emails, Mom managed to secure a late entry
spot for Benny to the University of Minnesota. We still don’t have a place to
live, since the dorms are already booked to over capacity, but it’s official,
Benny and I will be going to the same school! It feels surreal. The whole
summer
has felt surreal. Especially the last month with just Mom and the two of us.

Looking back, our
relationship began to rebuild itself from the moment Benny first stepped
through the front door, but I never could have seen it at the time. It wasn’t
until the very end, when he held me despite Dad’s threats and guarded the door
through the night, that I realized how this summer gave us a chance to reclaim
what we had. Part of me is sad about leaving Dad after all the years we lived
together, even though he deserves a lot worse than that for what he put me
through. Another part of me is done feeling bad about things I can’t change. I
don’t know if Benny taught me that, or if just being around him helped me see
the truth that was there all along.

*     *     *    
*

Tossing the last duffel bag
into the trunk, I pull it closed with a solid thunk. The sky is so overcast
that it would be impossible to tell if it was morning or evening if I didn’t
already know. But the weather is the last thing that can dampen my spirits
today. Benny and I are about to begin our adventure.

The semester doesn’t start
for ten days, but I’m not in any rush. Mom wanted us to fly, but Benny
convinced her to let us road trip back to Minnesota. Somehow he managed to get
her to let us
keep
the car, too. There must be some parts to their
mother-son relationship that I still don’t understand, because it doesn’t make
a lick of sense to me. If she didn’t like the car, she could have traded it in.
At a loss, sure, but a hell of a lot less of one than watching it drive away
across the country. Benny went so far as to joke that this car cost about the
same as four years of college. I hope he was kidding.

As I sink into the luxurious
seat across from him, I make a conscious effort to let go of my reservations
about the financial sense of us having the car. We have it, because we do, and
that’s good enough for me.

Benny starts the engine and
we wave to Mom as he pulls away from the curb. I roll down the window just a
tidge as he drives calmly down the street. He must be channeling my
grandma-driving. For once the air outside isn’t too hot, which makes the breeze
actually feel good.

Coming up to the end of the
street, he brings the car to a halt even though there’s no stop sign here.
Nearly two thousand miles of cityscape, desert, mountains, plains and forests
lie between us and Minnesota. We got the go ahead to splurge on hotels if we
want, courtesy of the silver American Express card, of course, but we have a
tent tucked into the trunk alongside the rest of our stuff, just in case.

“Ready, big brother?” Benny
asks.

I flash a look at him and
the eager grin on his face. The next ten days are all ours. And a hell of a lot
more time after that too, I hope. “Just you and me?”

“Just you and me.”

*     *     *    
*

Half an hour later, the
muted buzz of the tattoo iron is the only sound in the small shop. The air is
cool in here, especially with my shirt off. The side of the artist’s hand
brushes my nipple as she adjusts her position, continuing her work on my chest
a few inches below where my collarbone slides up toward my shoulder.

Dragging my eyes away from
the point where her iron meets my skin, branding me forever, I look up at my
brother sitting across the room from me. The moment he said he wanted a tattoo,
I insisted that we both get them.

Benny actually came up with
the idea weeks ago, but we didn’t want to do it while still living with Mom.
“Does it hurt?” The curiosity and concern in his voice make me smile.

“Stings a little bit, but
not too bad.”

“I still think it’s dumb
that you’re going first. It was my idea after all,” he says with a played up
scowl. He’s not really mad.

“I’m older, which means I
get to go first.” I grin. The woman working on my chest chuckles.

As soon as she’s all
finished with me, she starts right away on Benny. I watch him just as he
watched me, our communication entirely nonverbal. He doesn’t need to say
anything to let me know how much he likes the idea of us doing this.

From the moment we were
born, our physical resemblance was always there – whether we liked it or
not. No one ever
asked
us if we wanted to be identical, if we wanted to
be given this rare and special and exasperating connection.

What we’re doing now has a
much deeper significance. Marking ourselves in this way is entirely our choice.
It’s an affirmation of our absolute acceptance of one another.

When the woman finishes,
Benny sits up on the tattooing bed as I cross the short space between us.
Stretching my fingers out, I run them across the right side of his chest, over
the contour of his pectoral muscle. Five characters in a sloping script are
inscribed there.
Jacks
.

Likewise he touches the
still exposed skin of my chest. It’s hard to see at this angle, but in the same
spot on my own body, I now bear my brother’s name.
Benny
.

Our eyes connect, and his
lips pull upward in a subtle smile. I can’t help but return the expression,
knowing that what we’ve imprinted on ourselves today will stay with us for all
our lives. It will be there for everyone to see when we’re at the beach, it
will be there every morning when we look in the mirror, and it will be there
whenever either of us is intimate with anyone – for the first time and
every single time after that. And whoever that is will know that no matter the
connection they may have with us, someone else was there first. That name burned
into our skin and our hearts. A brotherhood shared, forever.