If I Should Fall: The Second Book of Geshichte Falls

TWENTY

ONE

BOYFRIENDS

Chayne and Rob were there to meet Anigel and Russell when the train pulled into Saint Gregory, and they all drove back to the house on Curtain Street. Russell thought he would be full of stories, but he found that what he was really was full of sleep. He dozed in his old room, which had been Rob’s room. The snow had started to fall and the sky was cobalt blue. There was so much to get back to. He’d returned late in the week, just in time for school to end. What was going on with Gilead? He needed to see Jason, think of the things Jimmy had said about him. He needed, and was quite surprised to need this, to see his parents. He had only been gone the time of a long weekend, and yet he felt like he’d been gone so long and like it was good to be here.

“And I only went up to Walter. Maybe,” Russell reflected, “I’m not one of those people fit for world travel.”

The next morning he walked home, but Chayne and Rob walked the four blocks with him. When he got there, though Patti kissed him on the cheek almost absent mindedly, and Thom ruffled his hair and asked him how Saint Alban’s was, neither seemed to be terribly interested but, in fact, were caught up in the gossip about the neighbors.

“Bill Dwyer is having an affair, but don’t tell anybody,” Patti said, serving Chayne a cup of coffee and pouring another for Rob.

“Well, that’s what I thought,” Chayne said, “but how do you know?”

“The health spa,” the two of them said together.

“He’s also smoking Niall’s pot,” Russell heard his mouth volunteer.

“What?” his parents looked at him.

“Before I left,” Russell said. “I saw it from my window. He was in the backyard getting high behind a pine tree. And Niall’s been sure that Cameron is stealing his pot, and she’s like no, I wouldn’t do that. And she wouldn’t, and then it turns out it’s Mr. Dwyer.”

“Well, Billy Boy,” Thom flapped his newspaper as if it were wings and grinned.

“Well, Billy Boy, my ass,” Patti said, taking an orange from the bowl on the counter.

“He’s a flat out asshole.”

“I didn’t know Niall smoked pot,” Thom said, saying nothing about his car pool buddy.

“He sells it,” Russell said.

Patti and Thom’s eyes flew open.

“Oh,” Thom said.

Chayne chuckled darkly and looked at Thom.

“That shut you the fuck up, didn’t it?”

 

Christmas break had begun now, and after a little late lunch, Russell made his way three blocks down Breckinridge to the large house where the Lorries lived. The lights were on, for the day was graying, and as he looked at the many windows looking at him, for the first time he wondered about the other members of Jason’s family and if they would see him, or what they would think of him. He had never come through the front door, always walked to the gate and went around the back to what he thought of as the private entrance.

He did so this afternoon, just beginning to feel the cold on his cheeks. He lifted the latch and walked along the house and around the back to tap on the door. His hand stopped before he knocked. He could not bear the idea of anyone but Jason answering, someone who did not know him, someone saying Jason was not home. Later, it made no sense to him, but he turned the handle and went into the little dark hall, hearing the dog skitter to him and sniff his hand. No one was here. This was Jason’s part of the house. The same as Russell had a room, Jason had a double room, a hallway and a back entry. He rapped on Jason’s door. He could hear bad R and B music playing, well, he thought it was bad. Kids at school liked it. He rapped again. He knew he was there. He heard the music.

Russell turned the door handle. Jason could be sleeping, or what if something had fallen on him? Or if he had swallowed his tongue. Or… stop that.

Russell came into the first room with its Christmas lights and it smelled of Gonesh incense, too incensy really, and he went into Jason’s dark room, where the boy he loved was asleep,

Because he did not expect it, he did not really see it, not at first. The darkness only helped this a little. By the time things had resolved themselves, she was screaming, and Jason was looking almost comically horrified. Russell was backing out of the room his face hot. It wasn’t really until he was running down Breckinridge back home, reminding himself not to get hit as he crossed Archer, that what his eyes had seen, like a developing Polaroid, formed clearly into Jason on the edge of his bed, fucking the white girl whose legs were straddled around him, her head thrown back as his face, buried in her breast, lifted to look at him in horror.

“What a piece of shit!”

“Mark,” Gilead chided.

“No,” Mark shook his head. “Un unh. And why should you tell me not to say that?”

For the first time ever, Mark looked upset with Gilead, though, Gilead realized, the look was more for the thought of Jason Lorry.

As Russell had been running home, a car had stopped on Archer and Mark had called out from it, looking more serious than usual.

“You alright, Lewis?” he demanded, and Gilead had been in the passenger seat.

“God, I was getting ready to call you—” Russell began, but Mark had just said, “Hop in the back.”

They were on their way back to Gilead’s house from the mall, and Russell tried to be social and ask how things had been, but it was Mark who said, “Never mind all that. What’s going on with you?”

Russell wasn’t sure how much Mark or anyone else knew about his relationship with Jason, or how much they should know, but gradually, with Gilead’s help, he’d gotten it out, and now they were in Sharonda Story’s house on Riverview.

“If he felt that way he should have said something,” Mark was saying. “You can’t go sneaking around someone like that. It’s not right. It isn’t fair.”

Russell looked from Mark’s animated face, to Gilead’s calm one. Gilead seemed to be smiling, but not in a mocking way, and at this moment he was envious of Gilead Story.

“I’ll be fine,” Russell said. “I just needed to tell someone. Someones.”

“Oh, I know you’ll be fine, Lewis,” Mark said. “You’re strong. You’re a real man is what you are. But you shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

Mark seemed bigger than usual. He always wore short sleeves, though today he was in a tee shirt, and Russell was surprised by the size of his biceps. It looked like Mark could, if he wished to, do real damage. Outside he could hear the train whistle and he said, “I’d better go.”

“Go why? Go where?” Gilead said. “Besides, Mark brought you here, so he’ll have to drive you back.”

That wasn’t necessarily so. Russell decided not to point out. Geschichte Falls was a small town with a great public transit system and nothing was too far from anything. He felt that strange sense you sometimes had, of two friends who were opening up a space for him. He was not a third wheel, though Mark and Gilead had certainly turned into something. The something they were now was occupied with looking after him.

“I thought Mark was all jokes and track,” Russell said when Mark had gotten up to go to the bathroom and they had paused the movie they were watching.

“So had I but no,” Gilead returned. “He’s very fierce about some things. Especially honesty. Loyalty. He’s very, very serious about loyalty.”

And though Gilead had tried to say this in a flat tone, there was a sort of pride in his voice.

“Gil,” Russell said, at last.

“Yes?” Gilead said, acknowledging the change in Russell’s voice.”

“I had a conversation with my cousin, before I left Saint Alban’s.”

Gilead had forgotten Russell had cousins at Saint Alban’s but also realized this didn’t matter right now. He waited for Russell to continue.

“He told me he didn’t think I really loved Jason. That I probably loved someone else.”

“Cody?”

Russell nodded.

“And whatever Jason was doing with that girl, however long he’s been doing it…”

Gilead waited for Russell to continue.

“I met someone at Saint Alban’s.”

“Oh?”

“I was with someone at Saint Alban’s.”

“A college student?”

“Yes.”

“Oh,” Gilead said.

“I still feel cheated on,” Russell said. “I feel… confused.”

“Hell, I feel confused.”

“Don’t tell Mark.”

“No,” Gilead decided. “I don’t think I’ll tell that to anyone.”

DENA DWYER REALIZED THIS was not one of the days she wanted to see her sister-in-law.  For a winter day it had been warm and sunny and bright—all the good things that should make someone want to enjoy a day, but Dena admitted to herself it hardly mattered. And everything Lee did, the number of cigarettes she smoked, how frizzy her hair was, how high pitched her laugh—it was all a lightning rod for Dena’s ire that morning. And the worst part of it was that Dena had that sort of anger never bold enough to loose itself openly, and so the lightning kept striking within.

Now the bolts were giving her a migraine.

“And so Mom calls last night,” Lee was going on, “and she wants us all to come down to Idlewile this weekend, hang out at the house. It’ll be a family event.”

Dena nodded. She said nothing. Her mouth was a little open. Lee thought her stare was a bit rude. Dena kept her thoughts to herself—except for in her weekly appointments with Patti Lewis, where she was just beginning to learn how to form words and use them for the purpose of communicating.

“Sure,” Dena said.

“Are you alright, Deen?”

“Never better,” Dena, cup of tea in her hands, returned from the gas range, turning to make sure it was off and then sitting at the kitchen table across from her sister-in-law.

“The kids can all go camping,” Lee said.

“They’re too old, Lee.” Dena said in a tone as if to indicate, and any idiot would know this.

“Oh, now, silly,” Lee threw back her head and clapped her hands in the way that annoyed the hell out of Dena, “you’re never too old for camping. Me and Bill used to do it even when he went to college.”

“Really?”

This had been news to her.

“Um hum.”

“I can’t wait till Bill gets home so we can tell him about the big trip this weekend. Dave’s really excited.”

“Well,” Dena used her spoon to lift the tea bag from her cup, “you’ll have to wait really late because Bill’s going to his fancy club... His spa thing. He even asked me if I wanted to join.”

“And you said?”

“And I said no,” Dena said rather sharply, as if Lee should have known better.

“Maybe...” Lee started. Then for once she had the wisdom to shut up and reached for another cigarette. But the wisdom came too late and Dena said, “Maybe what?”

Lee raised her eyebrows. She didn’t really have any. They were short triangles.

“Maybe,” Lee said, “that’s why he’s so sad.”

“You asked her if she wanted to be a member of the spa too?” Lynn sat up and bed and slapped Bill on his side.

He couldn’t help chuckling.

“I had to,” he told her, his head half buried in the pillow. He lay on his side, tracing circles in the warm spot where she had lain. “It would have... It would have seemed just too suspicious if I hadn’t asked her to join... or… something.”

“And?” Lynn said.

Now Bill sat up beside her.

“And she said no,” he told Lynn. “Trust me. If I know anything I know my wife and the great lengths she’ll go through to avoid a good time.”

The two of them sat up in bed for a while. Then Lynn reached over and pushed back a bit of Bill’s ginger hair from his face.

“You’re getting devious in your old age,” she told him.

When Dena answered the phone it was that Sonia again. This was how she thought of Niall’s little friend. That Sonia. Nice enough, but even Dena could see that the niceness was an act.

“Mrs. Dwyer, is Niall at home?”

“He is. I’ll be right back.”

Heading up the stairs to tap on Niall’s door, Dena realized her own niceness was an act as well.

“Yeah, Mom,” said Niall.

“It’s Sonia.”

“Awright,” he said on the other side of the door, “I’ll take it in here.”

Niall got off the bed where he’d been counting dime bags all lined up on his mattress, and stashing away about two hundred dollars that was going toward something vague in the future.

“Hey, Sonia.”

“Has your mom hung up the phone?” she sounded like she was on some covert mission.

“Yeah.”

“Niall, check.”

“Mom!” Niall said. There was no answer.

“Yeah, Sonia, she’s hung up.”

Niall started to fiddle with his goatee. What was up with her?

“Ni-alllll,” she started, her voice breaking, and then Sonia, usually so calm and often so cold broke down in sobs.

“Sonia,” Niall started, turning cold where he wasn’t turning tingly.

“Oh, Niall!” she kept weeping.

“Oh, God,” Niall said at once. There was such a fear in him the missing dime bag scarcely mattered, “you’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

Sonia sniffed and sobbed a little bit and then, sucking in snot said, “I think so.”