Remembering Christmas (25 page)

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Authors: Drew Ferguson

BOOK: Remembering Christmas
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Ready, willing, if not completely able to defend his beliefs, Rob sat back, shrugged his shoulders, and crossed his arms. “Bring it on, Franklin.”
Keeping a straight face, Theo continued, “First of all, Colangelo, why am I going to bet you a dollar if I'm only getting a doughnut in return?”
Rob nodded. “Point taken.”
“And second of all,
Florida
is the Sunshine State, Arizona is the
Grand Canyon
State.”
“The
Grand Canyon
State?” Rob asked. “Really?”
It was Theo's turn to nod his head. “Yes.”
Again, Rob looked at Theo with a blank expression, but this time it wasn't as a cover-up, it was honest. “Seriously?”
“Yes! When my parents first moved there they kept sending me all this information, all these brochures about the stupid state, hoping I'd follow them and move out there too,” Theo answered. “Completely ignoring the fact that I had built a life for myself on the East Coast and deliberately chose to live in Boston to be close to them in New Jersey and not move to San Francisco or Los Angeles or some other place that I would really have loved to have moved to, plus the fact that I was living with Neil.”
Theo stopped short. Thus far they had avoided any mention of sexual orientation whether consciously or not, and it wasn't like Theo was hiding his homosexuality from Rob—in fact Rob was probably the first person on the planet who knew he was gay. It was just that he didn't want to bring it up in conversation so abruptly or in connection with the N-word, which was how Theo usually referred to Neil out loud. It was fortuitous then that Rob wasn't really listening to Theo's tirade; he was still trying to comprehend his last comment. “Honestly, the Grand Canyon is in Arizona?”
Now it was Theo's turn to adopt a blank expression, “Seriously?”
“I'm still no good at geography,” Rob confessed. As Rob laughed at himself, at his own inability to retain basic grammar school knowledge, Theo grew uncomfortable. He was still in the past: he was twenty-one and fifteen and ten all at the same time; he was frightened and hopeful and confused and the only constant in his life was Rob, the man who now was sitting next to him, inexplicably grown up while Theo was still floundering in childhood, adolescence, young adulthood. The imbalance was disconcerting, it was making Theo remember things that he hadn't in a very long time, from when he was twenty-one and fifteen and ten and Rob was his constant companion. But that had ended, suddenly and brutally, and Theo needed to remember that most of all.
When Theo returned to the present he heard Rob still talking through his laughter, something about how his daughter didn't want him to help her with her homework because whenever he did she always got the answers wrong. Theo wished he could picture Rob sitting next to his little girl, a girl who hopefully had inherited his pretty blue eyes and soft brown hair, his arm around her protectively, proudly, watching her make sense out of fractions, not having the faintest idea of how to help her divide onefourth into one-sixteenth, but he couldn't. When he tried to imagine Rob as a parent, as the patriarch of some family, all he saw was himself sitting at a table alone, no children, no math homework, just an empty table. It made his chest tighten, his stomach go numb.
On and on and on Rob rambled about his kids and homework and soccer practice or was it softball. Theo was trying not to listen. It wasn't that he didn't care, it wasn't that he was anti-family, he just didn't want to think of Rob as a family man just yet—he wanted to keep him as his possession, his rediscovery, his creation for a little while longer. He would get his wish.
“Ladies and gentlemen due to a very overcrowded departure schedule today and some inclement weather in the Rockies, Flight 422 from St. Louis to Phoenix has been delayed,” said the upbeat, feminine Midwestern voice over the loudspeaker. “Our current departure time is 6:15.”
Amid the groans and thrown magazines, Rob smiled. “Dude, this gives us more time, my flight doesn't leave until six,” he announced. “Let's have a drink.”
Theo could feel a slight tingling sensation in his stomach, feeling was starting to return, the air in his chest was flowing freer, always good to be able to breathe. He glanced at his watch; it was 3:58, a bit early, but since he was still on East Coast time, his biological clock was at well after five, so why not have a drink? Theo could think of a lot of good reasons why he shouldn't, but he heard himself agree. “Sounds good to me,” Theo said, “dude.”
Once again Rob displayed an effortless ability to laugh at himself. “I know, I know, I totally overuse that word.” Rob tossed his coat over his arm and then grabbed the tote bag chock full of gifts with one hand and disengaged the handle of his carry-on suitcase with the other in one fluid, multitasking movement. Leading the way, he turned to the right to speak over his shoulder, causing his bangs to bounce gently. “Gotta hold on to your youth any way you can, I guess.”
Walking behind Rob's confident stride, Theo almost stumbled.
Hold on to your youth,
he thought.
What if you never let go of it?
 
“Teddy, are you okay?”
Sprawled on the sheet of ice, Teddy thought for a moment. “Yeah, I fell.”
Rob tilted his head to the side. “I can see that ya doofus, are you hurt?”
Teddy wasn't sure just how much he should admit to his friend. “Um, well, not really.”
Standing over Teddy, Rob peered down, mittens on his hips, to assess the damage Teddy had done to himself. “Ya leg's kinda bent funny,” Rob declared. “Can you move it?”
Determined not to show Rob how much pain he was in from slipping on the stupid ice, Teddy shouted, “Of course I can move it!”
“Well then do it!” Rob shouted back. “Lemmee see.”
Slowly, Teddy straightened his leg, but before he could unbend it completely, he let out a yelp, “Ow!”
“I knew you were hurt!” Rob exclaimed, kneeling on the ice to get a closer look at Teddy's leg.
“So what do you want? A medal?” Teddy yelled.
“Oh shut up and stop being a show off,” Rob said. “It's no big deal that you fell.”
No big deal for you,
Teddy thought.
You never fall.
Gently, Rob straightened out Teddy's leg the rest of the way, his eyes never leaving Teddy's face so he could tell if he was hurting him any further. “Ya got blood on your knee,” Rob said. “I'm gonna see how bad the cut is.”
Nodding, Teddy whispered, “Okay.”
Nine-year-old fingers expertly rolled up Teddy's pant leg, inch by inch, so pinkish-colored flesh was exposed. Rob was thoughtful, careful to lift the cloth high over Teddy's knee so as not to aggravate the wound. When Teddy's knee was fully revealed, Rob said reassuringly, “Oh it doesn't look too bad.”
“Really?” Teddy asked, expecting much worse.
Shaking his head, Rob diagnosed the situation. “Blood's already dried up, just a little cut.”
Teddy's calm turned to panic when Rob started to run off. “Where're you going?!”
“Just to get some snow, ya doof!” Jumping over a tree stump, Rob scooped up some fresh snow and carried it back over to Teddy. He knelt beside him. “I need to clean out the wound.”
Teddy wasn't sure this was a good idea. “With snow?”
Looking around them, Rob answered, “You want me to use a rock instead?”
“No! I don't want you to use a rock instead!”
“Good, then shut up and let me do my job!”
“Fine! Go ahead.”
Just before Rob placed the pack of snow onto Teddy's knee, he turned to him and said, “This might be a little cold, but it's gonna make it feel better.”
Nodding his consent, Teddy closed his eyes before Rob placed the snow on his knee. For the first few seconds the snow stung, cold shivers ran up and down his leg, and his knee felt like it was being pricked by tiny needles, but then the weird sensations went away and just like Rob said, he felt better. “Ya okay?” Rob asked.
“Yeah,” Teddy replied, his voice filled with amazement. “It doesn't hurt at all anymore.”
Rob brushed away the mixture of snow and dried blood from Teddy's knee. “That's 'cause I know what I'm doing.”
Still in awe, Teddy said, “You should be a doctor instead of one of those guys who make video games.”
Rob scrunched up his face. “Nah, video games are a lot more fun.”
Teddy felt Rob hold his calf a bit more firmly as he brushed the last bits of snow off of his knee, but even after the last bits were gone Rob didn't let go, he kept one hand on Teddy's calf and the other on his knee. Teddy watched the smoke unfurl from Rob's mouth as he breathed; he watched it inflate like a balloon and then rise, swirl, disappear. He began to breathe in rhythm with Rob, so their breaths could unfurl at the same time, connect, rise, and become one before disappearing into the air. It was like magic.
“My mom always kisses my knee when I scrape it,” Rob said, his eyes still staring at Teddy's cut.
Teddy held his breath, longer, longer, until he had to let it go. He watched it swirl and rise by itself. It looked lonely without Rob's breath wrapped around it; Teddy didn't like the way it looked. “Mine too.”
Once again the boys breathed at the same time, their breaths rushing toward each other, latching onto each other's mist so they could journey into the unknown together. “I could . . .” Rob started.
“Sure,” Teddy whispered.
“That is if you want me to.” Rob looked up and saw that Teddy was looking right at him, “It might make it feel even better.”
It would make it feel even better; Teddy didn't know how he knew it, but he was certain, it would make his knee feel wonderful. “It might.”
“So . . . should I?”
No breath escaped for a few moments. The space between them was filled only with expectation and wonder and silence until Teddy spoke. “Yes.”
His command transformed into a breath that skimmed Rob's head, making it look for a second like he had a halo. When it vanished, Rob bent his head and placed his lips on Teddy's knee, trembling slightly, amazed by their courage. Teddy couldn't see Rob's lips touch his flesh, but he could feel them, softly buzzing like a hummingbird's tail. He focused on the zigzaggy lines of Rob's crocheted hat, for some reason he started to count the lines, but only got up to eleven before he heard the ground thump.
On the other side of the playground the high school marching band was practicing for the annual Christmas parade. Next week they would march through the streets of Fairfield bringing the joyful sounds of the season to the townsfolk, but today the sounds of joy only reached two little boys. Teddy softly sang along, “Hark the herald angels sing, glory to the newborn king.” He didn't hear Rob's voice, but Teddy understood that he wasn't singing alone. He felt Rob's lips flicker against his bruised knee and realized that he was mouthing the words to the carol along with him. It was just more proof that they were and always would be connected.
 
Theo lost sight of Rob, he couldn't find him anywhere. Maybe he had been right from the start, maybe it was a hallucination, just an elaborate daydream. But then he heard his voice, loud, distinctive, cutting right through the din of the crowd. “Get the table in the corner, they're leaving,” Rob instructed. Theo nodded, more thankful that he wasn't losing his mind than that they had found an empty table. “I'll buy the first round,” Rob offered. “What do you want?”
“Uh, just a beer,” Theo said. “Blue Moon if they have it.”
As Theo started to make his way to the back of the Cloud 9 lounge, Rob extended his arm and Theo took his coat and shopping bag; it was a perfectly executed handoff, as if they were members of a relay team or a couple in a long-term relationship, words weren't necessary, only instinct. Theo squeezed in between chairs and patrons to get to the table before it was scooped up by another inconvenienced traveler and, as he laid Rob's coat over the back of the chair, another whiff of that sweet vanilla scent wafted up and smacked him in the face, so unexpected, so refreshing. He placed the shopping bag down next to the chair gently like it was some treasure, which since it was filled with Christmas presents it kind of was, and finally sat down in the chair that faced the bar.
He draped his own coat over the back of his chair and then placed his duffel bag on the ground to his right. After a moment he switched it to his left so it would be out of the aisle and heard himself murmur out loud, “What the hell am I doing?” The rest of his conversation with himself was silent.
This is ridiculous! I should be furious with him, I shouldn't be having a drink with him.
That comment came from the right, emotional side of Theo's brain. The left, more logical side, responded,
Then why are you acting as if you're on a date? Like he's your boyfriend and the two of you just went to see a movie starring Hugh Jackman's chest and decided to get a drink before heading home?
Theo didn't have any response, logical or emotional; he didn't know why he was sitting here, tucked away in an airport bar, listening to Mariah Carey sing about her solitary Christmas wish, waiting for Rob Colangelo to bring him a drink. It was like the past fifteen years had never happened, like they had been wiped away with a chalky eraser leaving behind a mere dusty reminder that something had happened, something different had taken place, something that didn't really matter because this is how it was supposed to be.

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