Date: Fri, 11 Feb 2005 19:20:13 -0500 From: Jeff Wilson Subject: W.A.R. Part 6, Chapter 16 W.A.R. Part Six - Commencement Chapter Sixteen -- The Bastard and the Rapist by Jeff Wilson I left the house early on Friday morning with the trunk full of Brett's and my stuff. We had already put our things in to make sure we were ready. The weather was perfect mid-April springtime weather. Only a cloud here and there, and the sun was shining brightly. Brett was getting much better at walking. He was moving along at a good pace now that he'd been active for a week. The hardest part was getting back into gear after sitting on his butt for a month. He walked with his crutches out to the car, book bag slung over his shoulders. He quickly threw the book bag in the back seat and waved at his mom. Then I started driving. "This is so cool." Brett said. I turned at the corner and headed the direction away from the road to school. "So, how long do you think it will take to get up there?" I asked. "Oh, four or five hours or so, depending on how fast you go." Brett replied. We drove along for a while. Our plan was to head across the county via interstate 70 and then north on interstate 79 all the way to Erie. From there it would be a trip north into Buffalo, where Brett had directions to find his father's house. I had it all planned out. If Brett had his way, we'd have just drove up without having a cover story or anything. You couldn't just do this kind of thing without a plan. "Do you think they miss us at school?" Brett asked after we'd been on the raod for about an hour. "Of course. I think they may just shut the place down since we're not there." I replied. Brett laughed, then he leaned back in his seat, allowing his leg to stretch. "This is so great. Thanks for coming along with me, Billy." "I wouldn't miss going along as the friend who is not in the least bit gay." I said. "Are you still upset about that?" "A little, but I know why you're doing it. I just don't like it." "Tough." Brett said. "It won't be a forever thing. Just long enough to let him get used to me." We drove along for a while, past Pittsburgh and toward the north. Brett was more excited than I'd seen him in a long time. He was also more nervous than I'd ever seen him. We talked about little things to occupy the time, and I didn't bring up his hiding again. I wanted to be a part of the experience, not a pain in the butt. After about three hours of driving, we stopped in Erie for lunch. Brett and I sat at the table and talked about what we thought was going to happen when we got to his dad's house. "I can't wait to see my little brother." Brett said. "What do you think they told him about you?" I asked. "I don't know. Maybe nothing. Maybe they're just waiting until I get there." "That wouldn't be too smart." I replied. "Here's this five year old kid sitting at home and then here comes an eighteen year old stranger saying, 'hey, kid, I'm your brother.' You'd traumatize him or something." Brett stared at his fork. "They wouldn't really do that." He said. "They would have told him by now." "Hopefully." I replied. "Separate checks?" The waitress asked. "Heck no." Brett replied. "You think I'm going to drag my boyfriend all the way to Erie and make him pay for his lunch?" I put my head in my hands. He could tell a perfect stranger about us, but not his dad. Sometimes I just didn't get him. We continued on to Buffalo. Brett found the directions he'd written down and became my co-pilot. Buffalo traffic was busier than Pittsburgh traffic. We made our way through the city and into the suburbs, and then down a quiet little street and finally found the little white house with the blue trim and big back yard. I parked in front of the house and we sat there for a few minutes. "Well, there it is. We're here." I said. "I know." Brett said. "You nervous?" I asked. "Oh, no no..." Brett lied. "Well, let's get going then." I said. Brett grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly, as if hoping he could squeeze the strength to do what he had to do out of me. Then he opened the door and slowly climbed out of the car, balancing himself on his crutches. Then, together, we walked toward the door. Before we were even halfway up the walk, the front door opened. Out came a little brown haired boy who darted straight to Brett and flung himself around his waist, almost knocking Brett down. Brett let one of his crutches fall to the ground, and returned the hug of the little boy. "James?" Brett asked. "I missed you Brett." James replied, causing Brett to lose whatever cool he had and let go of the tears of happiness he'd been holding back. His brother had never even met him and only found out about him a few weeks ago, yet he said he missed Brett. I couldn't help but notice that James really did look lot like Brett. From the doorway came the man who I'd seen only in pictures before. The man who I'd only heard about in quiet tones. The man who Brett had called every name in the book, Charles Bryant. He wasn't a tall man. In fact, he was shorter than me, but I'm five-eleven and used to older people being shorter than me. He walked down the sidewalk to greet us. "Well, I see the welcoming committee already did his job." He said, smiling down at James, who was still firmly hooked around Brett's waist. "Hello, Brett." Brett smiled and wiped his eyes. "Hi." "You must be Billy." He said, extending his hand for me to shake. "Nice to meet you Mr. Bryant." I said, shaking his hand. "No, no... Call me Charlie." Brett turned to face him. "Um... What... I mean... I don't know what to..." Charlie smiled and put his arm around Brett's shoulder. "You can feel free to call me Charlie, too. I know there are going to be some awkward things to deal with for you, Brett. You don't have to worry about things like that. It's a strange situation for all of us. James, you're going to cut off his circulation." James released Brett from his hug, but immediately went for his hand. "So you told him about me." Brett said. "Of course. He's been so excited. You're all he's talked about for days. 'When's Brett coming? When do I get to see Brett?' You're more popular than Santa Claus around here." Brett smiled so brightly that I thought he was going to start glowing. Charlie invited us into the house. He told us to have a seat and asked if we'd like a drink. I asked for a Coke. Brett asked for water. Brett had hardly sat down when he had James in his lap. "I'm five." James said. "Five?" Brett said excitedly. "Wow! You know how old I am?" "Are you ten?" he asked. "Nope, I'm eighteen." Brett explained. "You're old, Brett." James said, causing Brett to burst into laughter. "How old are you?" He asked me. "I'm old too." I explained. "What's your name?" He asked. "I'm Billy." I said. "That's a nice name." James said. "Are you Brett's friend?" I looked at Brett and grinned at him. "Yeah, I'm his friend." I said. "He's my big brother." James explained. Brett couldn't help but hug him when he said that. He was trying so hard to not start bawling, he was so happy. Charlie returned with the drinks. "You told him I'm his brother?" Brett asked. "Of course I did. You are his brother. You look so much like each other... I know that Jen had her reasons for not telling me about you. But I wish she hadn't. She had nothing to worry about." Brett sighed. "All I ever knew about you was... you know. And she didn't even tell me that until I was thirteen. I don't know what she was thinking." "She was thinking that she was protecting you." Charlie replied. "And who can blame her, really. Well, we have eighteen years to catch up on..." I spent the rest of the afternoon listening to Brett talk all about what he had done in school and all about what Charlie did at work. But it was when James fell asleep and was taken to his room for a nap that the discussion really got good. "Okay, now that he's asleep, maybe you can tell me about..." "You want to know about me and your mom." Charlie interrupted. "Well, yeah. What happened?" Brett asked. "Well, I screwed up, big time. I thought your mother was the most beautiful girl in the school. We went out for a few months. But she was catholic and was totally against doing anything sexual. Is she still like that?" Brett glanced at me quickly and then back to his dad. "Sometimes." He replied. Charlie glanced at me and then smiled to himself. It was as if... But, he couldn't have... Nah... He spoke, "Well, one night we both got wasted. I mean, totally trashed. And in the process she passed out. That's when you were conceived. Not exactly the kind of start I would have wanted for you." "Well, I sort of knew that. I'm just glad you're telling the same story mom is telling. I just wish she would have let me talk to you sooner." "Don't kid yourself, Brett. I'm not the good guy in your story. What I did was selfish and stupid, quite frankly. I deserved to go to jail. I was amazed that she didn't press charges. I actually thought that she didn't remember what happened to her. I guess she didn't want people to know that she was pregnant. She graduated before she started showing." "So why did you go to jail then?" "I was dumb enough to do it again, with a different girl who did remember and who did press charges. But I deserved it. I didn't think so at the time, of course. But I did. I had no right to do what I did. I should never have done it. The only good that came out of it all is you." "So what happened after you went to jail?" I asked. "So he can talk!" Charlie said, and I realized that I hadn't said anything in hours. "Well, Billy, I got out about ten years ago and moved here to get a new start. I couldn't exactly go home again, since it was a small town and everybody knew what I did. I needed a fresh start so I moved here. I met my wife soon after at church, and she didn't hold it against me what I'd done in my past. We got married about seven years ago, and I've moved on with my life. My past was behind me, until you sent me that letter I thought I was done with it." "Why didn't you try to find mom?" Brett asked. "Brett, do you think she'd want to talk to the person who took advantage of her?" James woke up and came into the room. He insisted that Brett come play with him, and Brett hobbled toward James's room, leaving me and Charlie. "Well, I guess I'll start on dinner. You can watch anything you want on the tv if you want, Billy." He said. "You need any help in the kitchen?" I asked. "A boy who wants to help in the kitchen? Well, you're more than welcome to help." Charlie replied. Together, we prepared the dinner. He asked about me and I told him about myself, leaving out that Brett and I were together. He asked about my parents and I told him about my mom and dad. I also told him about David. The sun was setting when Mrs. Bryant arrived. She was very nice to Brett and me. It had to be awkward to have her husband's kid from another woman show up in her house, but she treated him like one of the family. We ate dinner together. Brett showed more table manners than I thought he had. Usually he just wolfed everything down and that was that. Maybe being watched and copied by James was having a positive effect on him. After dinner, Brett went back to play with James for a while. Now I was left with both Charlie and his wife to ask me stuff. "So Billy," Mrs. Bryant asked. "You live in Donora?" "That's right." I replied. "That's south of Pittsburgh, right?" She asked. "Yeah. It was about two hundred miles to get here." "Quite a trip. You must be a good friend to drive Brett all the way up here." Charlie said. "That's right, we are good friends." I replied. "You have a girl friend, Billy?" Charlie asked. "Umm, yeah." I lied. "Her name is... Jessica. Jessica Miller." "That's nice. What about Brett?" "Oh yeah. He's really popular with the girls." "Just like his father." Mrs. Bryant laughed. "Right..." Charlie replied. "So what does his mom do?" Mrs. Bryant asked. "She's a doctor." "What kind?" She asked. "She works with teenagers. She's a psychiatrist." "I knew she'd make it." Charlie said. "She was relentless. Top of the class. I hope Brett takes after her and not me in that department." He laughed. "Well... I don't think he takes after her actually. He's gets B's mostly. But sometimes he gets if he studies hard he'll get A's." "Donora..." Mrs. Bryant said. "Why is that name familiar? I heard it at the office..." "Why? It's pretty far away. What kind of office is it?" "I work for the Department of Education. I advise school districts on school law. I know I've heard of your school. Mon Valley, was it?" "That's right." I said. "That's it." She snapped her fingers. "They put a ban on same sex couples at their dances, didn't they?" "That's right." I replied. "They're in a lot of trouble over that." "Really?" I asked, perhaps a bit too happily. "It's unenforceable. They can't discriminate against students like that. Any student who got in trouble for breaking that rule could sue the pants off of them. They'd win, too." "Sounds like the queers are having some trouble down there, huh Billy?" Charlie said. "You must have a lot of them down there if they have to pass a rule." I felt my face start to get hot. Charlie's opinion of gays didn't seem promising. "Well, maybe the 'queers' are getting tired of getting treated like crap." "Well come on... You and Elizabeth have nothing to worry about." "Well, yeah. But I have friends who do! Me and Elizabeth are friends with..." "I thought your girlfriend's name was Jessica." Charlie replied. "That's what I said!" I replied. But it was too late. He knew. "No, you said Elizabeth. You don't really have a girlfriend, do you Billy?" Charlie asked. "Yeah I do!" I said, angrily. "What do you care anyway?" "In fact, I'd be willing to bet that you have a boyfriend." "Shut up!" I shouted. Why was he being such a jerk? "Charles, really..." Mrs. Bryant said. "Now the question is, why would Brett bring you along with him?" "We're friends! I told you!" I replied. "So are all of Brett's friends queer or just you?" "You have a problem with me?" I asked angrily. "Well no, but I just want to know what kind of person my son is hanging around with." He replied. "What's the problem, Billy? I heard you yelling." Brett said, returning from James's room. "I've got a problem with being called a queer by a fucking rapist!" I said. "Billy!" Brett exclaimed. "Well he is a rapist! And he doesn't seem to have a problem with calling us queers!" "You told him about us!?!" Brett accused angrily. "No I didn't. But I'm not going to get called names by someone like him!" "You mean to tell me that you're queer too, Brett? Oh Jesus... Listen Brett, I blame myself. If you could have had a father around, maybe you wouldn't have grown up queer..." Charlie said. "What?!?! God damn it!!! Why the hell couldn't you keep your fucking mouth shut, Billy?" "I didn't do anything! He's the one who's being an asshole!" "Settle down, everyone." Mrs. Bryant said. "Brett," Charlie said. "It's not that bad. I don't think any less of you because you're a faggot..." "Did you just call me a faggot?" Brett asked angrily. "No. I didn't... I mean... It's just... Maybe if your mother had told me about you I could have kept you from turning into a queer." "Billy's right. You are an asshole. I don't know why I came here. I hate you! I've always hated you! You took advantage of my mom and you didn't even call her or ask about her at all! And all you care about is that I'm gay? Maybe you should be more concerned that I grew up being called a fucking bastard! You know what it's like to know you're a mistake? That you weren't wanted? That you were the product of a man attacking your mother? You know what it's like to be talked about all the time like it's your fault that your dad fucked your mom and then disappeared? And then to find out that not only that he raped her, but that that's how you were conceived! I wish I'd never been born!" "Brett, I didn't know..." Charlie said. "You should have known! You didn't even try..." Brett's voice broke. "I wish I'd never met you! I've gotta get out of here. Get me out of here, Billy." Brett stormed out of the room as best he could on his crutches. As he was walking through the living room, he ended up with James wrapped around his waist again. "Don't leave Brett!" He cried, tears streaming down his face. Brett, holding back his own tears, hugged James back. "I'm not leaving you, buddy. You still have my email and messenger and cell phone number, right?" "But I want you to stay! I love you! Don't go, Brett!" Brett couldn't hold his tears back anymore. "I love you too, buddy. But I have to leave now, okay? I'll come see you again." "You promise?" "I promise. Let me go, okay?" "Brett, you don't have to leave." Charlie said. "This is all a big misunderstanding!" "I can't stay here." Brett replied. He opened the door and walked out. I looked back at the family, James now in his mother's arms bawling. "I'm sorry..." I said. "Billy, talk to him, okay... I'm sorry... I shouldn't have pressed it." Charlie said. "Right..." I replied. I walked out to the car and found Brett already waiting in the passenger seat. I walked around to the driver's side and got in. Brett sat with his arms crossed and looking out the door window, breathing heavily. I started the car and slowly pulled out and back onto the street. Brett said nothing for the first hour of the trip. Every once in a while, I heard a sniffle. But that was it. I'd never seen him so furious. I didn't want to know what he was thinking. It couldn't have been very good. When we got to Erie, I stopped back at the restaurant we had been in that morning. "I have to take a piss." I said. The first words we'd exchanged since we left. Brett didn't reply, he just kept looking out the window. I walked into the restaurant and used the restroom. When I returned, I found Brett standing outside the car, resting on the hood. "Why did you tell him?" He asked. "I didn't." "The fuck you didn't!" Brett snapped. "Why couldn't you keep your fucking mouth shut for once?" "He figured it out! Then he called me a queer! You like to be called a queer? I mean, he called you a faggot too!" "He wouldn't have if you had shut the fuck up for once! God damn it Billy, why do you have to be such an asshole sometimes?" "I'm not! It wasn't my fault!" I replied. "You ruined everything you son of a bitch! I finally found my dad! I got to meet my little brother! He loved me so much! And you ruined it! You just couldn't let me have one goddamn day! I would have told him! I just needed one fucking day to get to know them without the baggage! And you fucking ruined it!" "I told you, it wasn't my fault! He figured it out and then he provoked me!" "Fuck you! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck... you... you... You fucking bastard!" I was taken aback by that. I'd never, ever heard Brett call someone that name. "What?" I said, stunned. "You heard me." Brett said. "You couldn't let me be happy for one fucking day without ruining everything. My mom's been telling you forever to watch your goddamn temper. But did you listen? Fuck no! Billy's always got to be smarter than everybody! Well you might be smart, but sometimes you're a fucking idiot!" "I didn't mean to!" "I didn't mean to!" Brett mocked. "Like you didn't mean to kiss Dustin?" "No, I meant to do that." I said. "Fuck you!" Brett shouted. "No, fuck you!" I replied. "I meant it when I kissed him! I felt bad about it for a while, but if this is the way you want to be, then I won't be sorry anymore. And you know what? We didn't just kiss, we French kissed, and it was for like five minutes. And you know what? It made my dick hard. How do you like that? And then, I let Dustin feel it and I felt his dick too! It didn't mean shit, but I knew you'd get upset so I didn't want to tell you, but now, who gives a flying fuck?" Brett didn't say anything. He just sat there on the hood of his car. He almost spoke, but then stopped. His mouth opened, then closed again. Then he stood up. Then he walked over to the driver's side of the car. He opened the door and got in. I started toward the passenger side but the door was locked. "Brett, I can't get in." He started the car. "You can't drive with that cast on." He put the car in reverse. Panic started to hit me. "Brett! You can't leave me here. It was your idea to come up here!" He didn't say anything or look at me at all. He simply put the car in drive and drove away through the parking lot. "Brett, you come back here... Brett... BRETT!!!" He sped away, out of the parking lot and down the street, with me running behind. Then, with a squeal of tires, he was gone. "BRETT!!!!!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. Then, reality set in. "Shit." + + + + + + + + + + + +