Date: Sat, 15 Jul 2000 19:08:06 EDT
From: Josh Rysh <rysh@hotmail.com>
Subject: Reap the Whirlwind - Chapter 2

Here's Chapter two of Reap the Whirlwind. Sorry it was so long in
coming. Hope you like it. Things'll start picking up in the next few
chapters. Hope you enjoy. Lemme know how you like it. rysh@hotmail.com

www.familyshoebox.com/family/bleedinghearts

Chapter 2

I lay awake in my bed that night, staring at the ceiling lit only by
moonlight. I'd been awake for hours watching the minutes tick by on my
alarm clock, unable to sleep. My mind refused to turn off. So much had
happened today - too much for my brain to absorb so quickly. My mind
replayed snippets of conversation from the day over and over like a slide
show on constant rotation.

	Joey: "You should move out..."

	Beth: "Joey always comes first..."

	Shelley: "We've only been going out for two weeks..."

	Laura: "Why wasn't I ever good enough for you...?"

	Joey: "We're growing up...things change..."

	Things changed alright. I knew that logically everything changes,
but I didn't have to like it. And I especially didn't like the way things
were changing for me. Didn't I get any say in any of this?

	There were two conversations that I wasn't sure what to think
of. The first being with Aidan when I asked if he still wanted to me to be
his roommate. In my mind at least that had become not so certain after my
horrible behavior, but he'd acted as if nothing had happened and had
actually seemed pretty excited.

	I knew my parents wouldn't be at all excited when I told them. They
tended to be a little over-protective. I was an only child and my father
was a rather conservative pastor. Their child rearing philosophies tended
to be a bit old fashioned. I could just imagine their reaction. "You're
doing what? We don't even know this young man! Does he do drugs?"

	And the truth was, I really didn't know Aidan. But Joey had said he
was a good guy and I instinctively liked him. I generally trusted my
instincts. He was funny, nice and he had seemed genuinely happy that I was
moving in. We were supposed to start moving some time later that week. Now
all I had to do was figure out how to tell my parents.

	The other thing that I was very uncertain about was Laura's
question down by the river and all that it implied. I'd been avoiding
thinking about it all night, but my mind kept going back to it anyway. It
was like having an ulcer in your mouth and even though it hurts you just
can't keep your tongue away from it. No matter how I tried to distract
myself I always ending up in the same place - Was I in love with Joey?

	The idea was preposterous; the implication being that I might be
gay. That, of course, was impossible. Right?

	No one jumped to my defense; no one rushed to reassure me of my
heterosexuality. It was just me and my thoughts and they refused to leave
me alone.

	I'd been raised all my life to believe that homosexuality was
wrong, that it was unnatural and against God's law. I couldn't be gay, I
just couldn't! I worked at the church, my dad was the pastor, there was
just no way I could be gay!

	Then why wouldn't Laura's question stop haunting me?

	Finally in frustration I threw back the sheets and jumped out of
bed. If I couldn't fall asleep then I'd find something to physically
distract myself. I flipped on the light and rummaged through my closet
until I found what I was looking for. I flipped through my old sketchbook
until I found came to a sketch that I had started for a painting but never
finished. For some reason it had been on my mind all night. It hadn't
started out that way, but it was a self-portrait of sorts. In it, a boy who
had turned out to look a great deal like me was peering out of a swirling
black fog. His (my?) face was lit weakly by a guttering lantern that he
(I?) held in an outstretched hand. I wondered what had drawn me to this
drawing tonight. Was it because it was suddenly a rather appropriate
metaphor for how I was feeling right now? Nah, too deep. It was probably
just because I'd never finished it and I hated to leave things undone.

	As I turned towards my worktable I caught a glimpse of myself in
the full-length mirror on the back of the closet door. There I was in all
my glory, wearing only my boxers - short, skinny and pale. I looked like I
was 14 at the most. I stuck my tongue out at myself and walked away from my
disappointing reflection.

	I cleared off the top surface of the worktable and turned on the
overhead adjustable lamp. I dropped the sketchbook into the pool of warm
light created by the 100-watt incandescent bulb. The table was arranged
under the wide double windows to catch as much natural light as possible,
but natural light wasn't an option at 2 in the morning.  I stared at the
sketch for a few minutes then picked up my favorite sketch pencil and
started adding a few small details. I didn't add too much because I liked
the way the edges seemed to fade away, lost in darkness and left to the
realm of the unknown. I was really starting to warm up to the idea of this
being an allegory for my life right now.

	Once I had the drawing just the way I wanted it I began the tedious
process of transferring it onto watercolor paper. I carefully outlined my
pencil drawing on tracing paper so that the end product looked like a
coloring book outline. Then I rubbed the back of this drawing with graphite
and finally transferred that onto watercolor paper. A long process, but one
that I felt necessary for a good, clean image with no eraser marks or
mistakes on my finished painting. When that was done I began the actual
painting. By the time I was done the sun was just starting to break the
horizon. I was finally tired so I cleaned my brushes and collapsed onto my
bed where I fell immediately asleep.

	My alarm went off less than an hour later. With a groan I rolled
over and turned it off. I wanted more than anything to just go back to
sleep, but it was Sunday. The last thing I wanted to do right then was go
to church, but when your dad is the pastor its not exactly an option, at
least not as long as I lived at home.

	I dragged myself out of bed and into the bathroom. Maybe I'd feel
better after a shower. I didn't. And I didn't feel better after I ate
breakfast, or after I drank three cups of coffee, which I hate and usually
never drink, or even after I got to church. I somehow managed to get
through the morning, although I'm pretty sure I dozed off a few times
during the sermon. I was feeling pretty self-satisfied as I drove home, but
it turned out to be the afternoon that I should have been worried about.

	It never would have happened if I hadn't been so tired, if I'd had
all my wits about me. But I was tired and I didn't have all my wits about
me and when Dad started in on me about leaving my room in a such a mess
this morning I snapped.

	"You won't have to worry about it after this week," I said before I
stop myself.

	"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked as Mom froze on her way
out of the room.

	I tried to think of plausible lie, but I was so tired I just wasn't
up to the effort. I always was a lousy liar anyway. "I'm moving out this
week," I mumbled finally.

	Mom turned slowly around while Dad looked as if I'd kicked him.

	"What did you say?" Mom said in a falsely cheery voice, as if she
must have misunderstood and thought that it was going to be a funny story
to tell the deacon chairman's wife the next time she talked to her.

	What could I say? Just kidding? It was too late to turn back now. I
took a deep breath. "I'm moving out this week." I said firmly.

	For a long time no one spoke. I realized I was holding my breath
and let it out in a loud whoosh.

	"And where are you planning on living?" Dad said slowly.

	"With a friend of Joey's, from college."

	"Do we know him?" Mom asked, then a panicked look crossed her face,
"He is a boy isn't he? Oh, Will, don't tell me your moving in with a girl!"

	"No, it's a boy, and you don't know him, but I met him last night
and he seems like a really nice guy. He said I'll only have to pay a third
of the rent and it's a really nice apartment. It's down by the river in
this renovated warehouse..." I faded out under Dad's disapproving glare.

	"Will, I don't approve," he said ominously.

	Big surprise, I thought, but caught myself just in time from
saying. "I'm 18," I said in what I hoped was a reasonable tone of voice,
"It's time I moved out. If I'd gone to college I would have left
already. At least I'll be in the same town."

	"What is this boy's name?" Mom asked.

	"Aidan..." I realized I couldn't remember his last name,
"Aidan...Aidan." I finished lamely.

	"Aidan Aidan?"

	"No, Aidan something, I can't remember his last name."  I admitted
sheepishly.

	Dad threw up his hands and stood up. "I think you're making a huge
mistake. The real world is a different place from living here at
home. You'll be back." He stalked angrily out of the room.

Mom stared after him for a minute then turned back to me. "Just know this
will always be your home and you can come back whenever you want," she said
before rushing out after him.

	Over my dead body, I thought. I would never give him the
satisfaction of crawling back. I went upstairs to my room and slept for the
rest of the afternoon. When I woke up that evening I started packing. It
kept my mind out of areas I wasn't ready for it to go and reinforced my
decision. Putting things into boxes made it all seem more real. Everywhere
I looked though something made my thoughts skitter right back to the
forbidden place; a love note from Beth, one of Joey's t-shirts in my
closet, a picture of Joey, Laura and I with our arms thrown around each
other's necks.

	Joey called once, but I told Mom to tell him I was busy
packing. When Laura called I tried the same ploy with her, but I should
have known she wouldn't be put off so easily. She'd barely had time to hang
up before she appeared in my doorway.

	"Hey," she said softly as her eyes swept over the mess in my
room. I had pulled everything out of my closet and it sat in haphazard
piles all around me.

	"I'm busy," I said keeping my eyes carefully averted to avoid her
probing look.

	"So I see. You wouldn't talk to me on the phone and I know what
that means. It means you're avoiding me. I figured I could corner you in
your lair. You need a hand?"

	"I've got it," I said.

	"Are you ok, Will?"

	"I'm fine. I just have a lot to do."

	"Are you really ok? Look at me and tell me you're ok."

	"I said I was fine didn't I?" I snapped, still not looking at her.

	"I know what you said, but I also know you well enough to know when
you are lying to me."

	"Everyone thinks they know me so well."

	"Not as well as I'd like. For someone who is so transparent with
their emotions you do a pretty damn good job of keeping people away. What
are you so scared of, Will?"

	"I'm not scared of anything. Look, I've got a lot of packing to
do. If you're not going to help why don't you just go home? And standing in
the door psychoanalyzing me is not helping. All you are doing is pissing me
off."

	"I noticed. I'm sorry. I'm also sorry if what I said last night
upset you. It just seemed like it needed to be said."

	I didn't answer, just kept on packing things into the box in front
of me. She waited a few beats then sighed and moved behind me to the bed.

	"This is good, Will," she said after a moment, "Is it a self
portrait?"

	She had picked up the painting I had done the night before. "Sort
of," I said.

	"It captures you somehow; that slightly hunted look, like a deer
caught in headlights."

	"Gee thanks."

	"No, it's actually very endearing."

	"Whatever."

	She was quiet for a while then I sensed her sit down on the edge of
my bed. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore so I turned to see what she was
doing. She was looking at the picture of the three of us that I had found
earlier.

	"Do you remember when this was taken?" she asked quietly.

	"Yeah, that's the summer we all went to Busch Gardens, we were
what? 14?"

	"Yeah, that was the summer I realized that you'd never love me the
way I wanted you to. You spent the whole vacation following Joey around
like a puppy dog and I followed you. I might as well have not even been
there."

	And here we were back here again, come full circle. Why did
everything have to be so complicated?

	"What do you see?" she said holding the picture out to me.

	"What do you mean?" I asked.

	"Look at it."

	"I am...what am I looking for?"

	"Look at us. What do you see?"

	I looked closer. In the picture I was in the center with Joey on my
right and Laura on my left.  Joey's head was thrown back slightly as he
laughed at some joke. His eyes were locked with the camera in a typical
Joey expression of challenge. He was always challenging something. At first
I could figure out what Laura was talking about. And then I saw it.

	"You know now don't you?" she whispered. I nodded. "You have to
deal with Will, for your own sake."

	She handed me the photo and stood up and left.

	I sat looking at the picture for a long time before I turned the
lights out and went to bed. As I drifted off to sleep, the image in the
photo seemed to be burned into my retina, I could still see it on the
inside of my eyelids. In it, Laura looked longingly at me, completely
ignoring the camera. But all my attention was focused on Joey, a look of
complete adoration in my eyes. Joey was the only one who seemed conscious
of the camera, oblivious to everything else but his own posing. The rest of
us lesser beings were too caught up in our objects of desire.

- - -

	I avoided so much as even thinking about Laura and Joey for the
rest of the week. It wasn't that hard. They were in school and I was at
work during the day and busy moving at night. Aidan came over several times
in his beat up Ford pick-up and under Dad's disapproving watch we moved
most of my stuff out by that Friday night. I drove the last few odds and
ends over in my car.

	Aidan threw open the door dramatically before I could even knock.

	"Welcome home!" he said with a grin, complete with dimples.

	I smiled back and pushed past him, the box was starting to get
heavy. "I guess this is home now, huh?" I said and laughed. I couldn't
believe how excited I was, and a little nervous.

	"Yep. Home is where the heart is or something like that," he said
as he followed me down the hall to my room.

	"Does that mean my heart is here now?" We'd cleared out his
remaining boxes during the week and replaced them with mine.

	"I hope so, the rest of you is here. But sometimes I get the
impression that your heart is somewhere else."

	I looked up sharply, but he was busy opening up one of my boxes. We
spent the next hour or so unpacking enough of my stuff so I could at least
sleep there that night.

	"Hey, Will?" Aidan said hesitantly after a while.

	Something in his voice made me put down the box I was poking in and
give him my full attention. A slightly concerned expression clouded his
green eyes. "Yeah?" I said carefully.

	"I have something I need to tell you and I guess I should have said
something sooner, like before you moved in and all, but..."

	"Please tell me its just that you wear colored contact lenses," I
said with a forced smile.

	"Huh?" Now he just looked confused.

	"It's just that your eyes are so green...oh never mind..."

	"My eyes? Their natural," he still seemed confused as if he
couldn't figure out how we had started talking about his eyes. "Look, can
we maybe sit down to talk?"

	Oh no, you never had to sit down to talk about something good. My
feeling of unease heightened. What was he going to tell me? Was he from a
mob family? Was that why he could afford this apartment? He had said he was
from a big family. I sat down heavily on the bed.

	Aidan looked around uncomfortably, "Uh, I was thinking of more like
the living room."

	"Oh," I said weakly and followed him down the hall. I sat on the
couch and Aidan sat on the chair closest to me. He blinked at me for
several minutes then stood up and began to pace. I was getting more and
more nervous with every second that passed.

	"I don't know how to say this," he said finally, "so I'm just going
to say it and let happen whatever happens. Will...I'm gay." He stopped
pacing and looked at me anxiously. I waited for the punch line. When it
became apparent that it wasn't coming I stood up and walked to the windows.

	"Did Laura set you up for this?" I asked with my back to him.

	"What? Laura? What does she have to do with this?"

	"Did she?"

	"No, she doesn't even know."

	"Does Joey know?"

	"No, no one down here does yet. You're the first person I've told
since I moved. Well, my cousin knows but he doesn't live in town and he's
not in college. I only told you because, well...I thought you should know
since we're going to be living together and all."

	"You should have told me before," I said. I was desperately trying
to stay calm but my delicate façade was dangerously close to
crumbling. I couldn't believe this was happening right now, when I was so
confused about myself. I had avoided thinking about it all week and now
here I was slapped upside the head with the same issue from a direction I'd
never even suspected. My head was reeling.

	"I know I should have told you earlier and I'm really sorry. You've
got to believe me; it's really hard to tell people. But it's not going to
change anything, right? I mean I'm not going to hit on you or anything and
I don't dress in women's clothing or anything. I'm still the same person I
was before, its just now you know a little more about me."

	"A little more than I wanted to know," I snapped. Immediately I
regretted it. I could see the hurt written all over his face. "I'm sorry,
Aidan," I sighed. "I didn't mean that. It just...it just caught me by
surprise. You must be regretting that you even asked me to move in. The
first night I act like a jerk and storm out like some spoiled brat and then
now I freak out because you try to be honest with me."

	He gave me a lopsided grin, a weak shadow of his usual luminous
grins but more than I could have managed in his place. "Hey, you were
having a bad day that night, remember? And as far as tonight goes, well...I
would have to go through something like this with whoever moved in and I
have to say that you've handled it better than most of the people I've
told."

	I sat back down, "I thought you said I was the only person you'd
told besides your cousin."

	"Down here. Back home I came out to pretty much everyone at one
time. I didn't know that it's better to come out gradually. Most people
didn't take it very well and I didn't have a support system built up yet so
it was pretty rough. The people who would have supported me were too
shocked to be much comfort when I needed it. That was what made up my mind
to transfer down here. I would have never got through the rest of last year
if it hadn't been for my Aunt Meg. She was my rock through everything."

	"What happened?"

	"Well, some people just stopped having anything to do with me, but
those were the best case scenarios. Other's felt it was their duty to go
out of their way to tell me how they felt about alternative lifestyles. But
my cousin that lives down here, Aunt Meg's son is gay and he's been
accepted pretty while since he came out so I thought that maybe this would
be a better area for me. I was already looking at the college here; that
just cemented the decision. Does it bother you?"

	"That you're gay?" I thought a moment, "No, it doesn't really
bother me," I said and I meant it. "It just adds to something I was already
dealing with."

	"You want to explain that?"

	"No, not really. Not yet anyway. I've still got a lot to figure
out."

	He gave me a suspicious look but didn't push the issue. "Well, if
you change your mind I'm here for you."

	"So, uh...how did you know?" I asked, partly to divert his
attention back to himself and partly because I honestly wanted to know.

	"Actually, my cousin helped me. He figured out he was gay about a
year ago and he just seemed to have everything together. He has a boyfriend
that he's crazy about and who's crazy about him and he's two years younger
than me. When I came down for Thanksgiving and saw them together I saw how
happy they were and I realized that I desperately wanted that too. I'd had
a few girlfriends but it just never felt right. So I asked him the same
thing you just asked me. He may be younger than me, but the kid's really
sharp. He said, 'Either you are or you aren't. You just know. You either
like girls or you like guys.' When you boil it down like that it was pretty
obvious, for me anyway."

	I nodded thoughtfully. I didn't like where I was going with that
train of though. He said something else but I didn't catch it I was so lost
in my own thoughts. I realized he was waiting for me to say something.

	"Huh?" I said wittily.

	"I said, do you want to see a picture of my cousin and his
boyfriend? You know, you actually remind me a lot of his boyfriend."

	"Sure," I said absently.

	Aidan went back to his room and came back out a minute later with a
small, framed photo, which he handed to me. I looked down and felt my mouth
drop open.

 	"That's Asher!" I gasped.