The Insurrectionist (16 page)

            Deni and Eva posed for the ceremonial senior prom pictures that would bond them to each other for eternity. It was like getting married, but for most guys it was really about the post prom activities.
What a guy goes through just to get laid
.

            The Reading High School prom that year was held at the Stokesay Castle, a model of an English thirteenth century castle in the sprawling green countryside outside Reading city limits. Again, outside the mock castle, Deni posed for more pictures with his friends and Eva.

            It was a great time until halfway through the prom, the sickness Deni was feeling grew worse and he could no longer shake it. He made his apologies to Eva and made sure some friends showed her a good time afterward.

            After driving aimlessly around the city for a half an hour, he diagnosed his own illness and realized the cure. He drove up and parked outside Heather’s house. From his perspective it looked even bigger and more immaculate than Stokesay Castle. He knew what he had to do; he got out of the car and approached her front door. He knocked and then waited. It was Dr. Atkins who answered.

            “Is Heather home?” Deni asked.

            Dr. Atkins hesitated and then called out, “Heather, Deni is here.”

            Dr. Atkins disappeared without inviting Deni inside. Heather appeared at the door. Her hair was pulled back in a fraying ponytail and she wore an oversized William and Mary sweatshirt and flannel pajama bottoms. It was obvious to Deni that she was crying.

            “What do you want?” she asked.

            “To apologize for being a complete ass. It wasn’t the same there without you,” he said. “I am so sorry.”

            Heather didn’t say anything.

            Deni removed the carnation from his lapel and pinned it to her sweatshirt. “I made a huge mistake. Can you forgive me?”

            Heather shrugged. She was so disappointed, but she and Deni were not officially dating, so there was no real reason for her anger except her own expectations. “Sure, why not.”

            He gestured to his car. “Do you want to go somewhere and talk?”

            “I can’t go anywhere dressed like this,” she said.

            “We’ll just go for a drive. Come on,” he encouraged.

            Heather conceded and climbed into Deni’s passenger seat. They were quiet as Deni drove around the streets of Reading and then started winding up the wooded hill of Mount Penn. Finally he parked the car at a lookout with the city of Reading in view.

            Deni turned off the car and slid down in his seat. He lowered his head and said, “Mik is having marital problems.”

            “I’m sorry to hear that,” replied Heather having no idea how that related to the prom.

            Deni lifted his head and looked out over the city. It was becoming a regular evening occurrence—a visit from his brother, but the only person he talked to was their mother. They sat quietly in the kitchen, sometimes in the backyard and talked. Neither Deni, nor his father dared to intervene, but they both had their suspicions—trouble at home.

 

            Deni shoved a Ding Dong cake in his mouth and needed a big glass of milk to wash it down. As he headed into the kitchen he overheard a conversation between Kamiila and Mikail.

            “It’s not your fault, honey,” Kamiila said, “its American girls. They do not make good wives. They are selfish and superficial. They simply do not have the ability to please their husbands.”

            Mikail grunted. “Well then what am I supposed to do? She is my wife. She’s hardly home and when she is, she takes Elena to her parents and we don’t, she doesn’t…”

            “You have to talk to her. You have to remind her of her duties to you as your wife,” said Kamiila.

            When Deni entered the kitchen both Kamiila and Mikail stopped talking.

            “What do you have all over your face?” Kamiila asked Deni.

            “Ding Dong,” Deni said, reaching for a glass in the cupboard and then pouring himself a large glass of milk.

            “Why do I bother asking?” Kamiila said.

            Deni shrugged and then wiped the crumbs from his lips. “I don’t know.” He left the kitchen with his milk.

 

            Deni glanced at Heather and said, “Yeah, Emily spends most of her time with her parents and Mik gets real lonely. He’s been spending a lot of time at home talking to my mother.”

            “Deni, you’re not your brother and I’m not Emily. So what’s your point?” Heather asked.

            “Well you know how you could love someone and different cultures get in the way?” he said.

            “That’s bullshit!” exclaimed Heather. “You love someone no matter what! Love triumphs over everything and everything else is just a fucking excuse!”

            Deni stared at Heather incredulously. He was taken by her passionate declaration, but it was hard for him to believe. “No it’s not. It’s not an excuse; it’s life.”

            “So what are you going to do, deny love because it doesn’t suit
your
culture and
your
family? What do
you
want?” asked Heather.

            “What are you talking about? What are you talking about denying love?” questioned Deni.

            Heather reclined in Deni’s passenger seat and tried to hide the tears that started streaming. “I don’t know why I bother.”

            “I don’t understand, Heather,” he said trying to comfort her.

            “You don’t get it, do you? I so wanted to go to the prom with you. I was so looking forward to it. I even had my dress picked out and everything,” she said.

            Deni couldn’t take anymore. He reached over the seat, put his arm around her and held her tightly. “I am so sorry. I’ve been so stupid.”

            Heather wiped her tears. “No, I’ve been stupid for feeling something for you and hoping there could be something between us more than friends. It is my fault.”

           
What is wrong with me? Why am I holding back? Is it family? Is it culture? Is it class?
he thought. There were so many reasons he rationalized denying her, but there was one big factor staring him in the face. He really liked her; she was his best friend and he was very attracted to her. It was at this moment he had everything in his arms. “Heather,” he whispered to get her to turn her face toward his, and when she did, he kissed her on the lips. “I’ve been the biggest fool.”

 

            Deni stepped back from Dr. Sodhi’s bookshelf and surveyed her books. He wondered if there was a book on fools, because he surely was one. Like his brother, he believed; he believed he could have it all.

            Dr. Sodhi leaned on her desk, watching Deni carefully. “How were you fooled? Do you want to tell me about it?”

            “No,” he said without turning to face her.       

 

 

            Deni reclined on his bed and stared at the four walls of his cell. He had no idea what time it was and he guessed it really didn’t matter. Time really had no purpose in his life any more. He recalled all those times he overslept for school, all the times he was late for football practice and especially all those times he disregarded his own curfew. Time was never an important to Deni.
Now
I don’t have to be anywhere; I don’t have to see anyone. Time has become irrelevant.
 He sat up in bed and reached for his composition book and pen lying on the floor beside. He flipped to the next blank page and wrote:

 

           

            A flash of lightning flickered through the frosted window. It showed nothing but a bright pink flash on the white paper of his composition book. Deni climbed out of bed and pressed his face to the five inch window frame and tried to stare outside, but could see nothing through the frosted pan.

            In the silence of his cell, he could hear a smothered sound of thunder and rain pouring against the outside wall. He always thought the rain was a pain in the ass; it was always cold and damp and he hated the feeling of wet clothes against his skin, but the rain did bring back another memory; one that would hardly serve him well in solitary.

 

            Rain poured heavily outside the Atkins’ kitchen window. It was the kind of weather that made studying for final exams easier; the sunshine would have inspired Deni to be outside, but instead he sat across the table from Heather studying for their history final.

            The curious thing that struck Deni in his study was how the American history books skimmed past the atrocities of the Trail of Tears and Slavery, but heralded the explorers and conquerors that discovered America. No one really cared what happened to all the indigenous people already living there. These people gave their sweat and their blood to bring riches and glories to a conqueror of a distant land.

            And now the American irony is to close the lid of the great melting pot. All those who came from other lands to build their fortunes at the native’s expense are now being shut out. These conquerors came, they took and now they don’t want anybody else to reap the wealth. Deni sighed and then rested his chin on his palm as he turned the page of his history book. His eyes were getting tired and his brain was on the verge of capacity.

            Heather rose from her chair and walked into the kitchen to get more iced tea for them. When she returned and sat back on her chair she said casually, “Oh, my parents are not going to be home until late, so if you want we can order a pizza or something for dinner.”

            “That’s cool,” replied Deni.

            Simultaneously Deni and Heather looked up at each other and a smile crossed both their faces; it was obvious they had the same thing on their mind.

            “You know, I just realized I have been so rude,” said Heather. “I don’t believe I have given you a full tour of our house.”

            “No, I don’t believe you have,” he replied with a wide grin.

            Heather stood from her seat and reached her hand out to Deni. He took her hand and allowed her to guide him through the house. “This of course is the living room which you already know, the downstairs bathroom which I believe you are acquainted,” she said and then led him up the stairs. “My parents’ room, Jess’ room, upstairs bathroom and this is my room.”

            Deni stepped inside Heather’s bedroom. It was for the most part exactly how he imagined – sports and academic trophies on a bookshelf, framed pictures of friends, including many of him. Her bed was simple and modest—a white bedspread with a colorful, diamond patterned crochet throw blanket on top.

            He smiled seeing a small stuffed bear placed at her pillow. Placing his hands on her hips, he whispered in her ear, “I would not have anticipated you were the type of girl who has stuffed animals on her bed.”

            Heather laughed and stepped away from him. She crawled onto her bed and set her stuffed bear on the floor faced down. “There, does that make you more comfortable?”

            Deni followed her onto the bed. “Absolutely, you don’t know how unnerving it is to perform with plastic googly eyes staring at you.” He lay down on top of her and kissed her face and lips.

            She ran her fingers through his hair. “I’ve never done this before, so don’t be disappointed if I’m not any good.”

            He lifted himself and gazed down at her. She didn’t need to tell him; he knew. “Don’t be nervous,” he said, “the pressure is completely on me.”

            “Yeah, you’re right; it is,” she teased. “If you suck, I could be turned off from sex forever.”

            “Do you want to do this or not?” he joked.

            She laughed. “I do; you know I do, so stop messing around and fuck me.”

            This certainly wasn’t his first time, but when he looked down at her he was more nervous than he was the first time. He didn’t want to hurt her, or disappoint her. Deni couldn’t believe this was one of his most terrifying moments of his life, to make love to a girl he actually cared for.

            They were both hesitant, fully knowing that this moment would forever change their friendship and relationship. Heather sat up, removed her t-shirt and bra and then lay back down on the pillow. Deni admired her for a moment and then took off his shirt. He leaned over and kissed her face, neck and breasts.

            Heather wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders and whispered in his ear, “This is real nice, but let’s get on with it.”

            “What’s your rush?” he whispered back to her.

            She looked him in the eyes. “The anticipation is killing me.”

            Deni laughed. “Yes, ma’am!”

            He removed her shorts and underwear and then took of his pants. Lying on top of her, he whispered in her ear, “Close your eyes.”

            “Why?”

            “‘Cause you need to relax.”

            Heather clung to him with her eyes tightly closed.

            “Relax,” he said softly as he rubbed himself against her.

            She moaned and Deni felt the tension in her body ease. The moment he entered her, she dug her finger nails into his shoulder and he watched as she arched her head and her blue eyes rolled back.

 

            A flash of pinkish lightning brightened Deni’s cell. He reached into his pants and slid his hand down between his legs. He always hated to do
it
to Heather; she was his best friend. He always felt he was disrespecting her in some way, but she was the one girl he thought of most often.