Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Potatoes, lettuce, onions, peas, beans. They
were probably boring choices, but Lucas wasn’t too worried about
that, not with his first attempt at planting a garden. He just
wanted something to come up, wanted to see the shriveled brown bits
he dropped into the soil turn into something new and green and
useful.
He’d planted carrots a few weeks earlier and
now he crouched beside the tidy row of sprouts pushing their way
through the almost-warm ground. He’d tried to keep himself from
getting excited at the first signs of life. They could have been
anything, little bits of grass or other weeds that had taken
advantage of the carefully groomed soil. But now he could see the
beginnings of the feathery leaves he’d seen at the supermarket and
he let himself believe in this one small miracle.
“Carrots!” he said quietly to the squirrel.
She stayed on her branch, the setting sun making her little more
than a silhouette. She was still chewing away at the quarter-cob of
dried corn he’d brought her from the farm. He’d been so nervous
asking Elise if he could have it, and she’d given him a look like
he was crazy. For wanting the corn, for asking for it in such a
peculiar way…who knew, really? But she hadn’t said no and the
squirrel seemed to be enjoying it, so the ordeal had been
worthwhile. “We’re growing carrots. Not for you. Well, you can have
some if you want, but don’t dig them up yourself, okay? You’re
messy.” The little rodent had gotten so spoiled she probably
wouldn’t eat carrots unless he brought them to her sautéed in
butter, so that was a plus.
“I told you they’d grow.”
The voice came from behind him and Lucas
whirled around. As soon as he saw Alex he knew something was wrong.
The boy had never come to the halfway house before, and now he was
there, with an unfamiliar expression on his face, and eyes that
looked like they’d been crying recently and might be about ready to
start again. Still, he smiled at Lucas as he said, “Gardening’s not
that hard. Stuff wants to grow, you know? You just have to give it
a chance.”
And maybe Lucas should have followed Alex’s
lead and talked about gardening for a while, but he couldn’t do it,
not with Alex looking the way he did. “You weren’t at the farm
today. I thought you’d just gotten busy at school—you said you had
that project due. But…is everything okay?”
Alex’s face crumpled. Lucas didn’t send his
body any orders—it just moved on its own, stepping
not-too-carefully over his rows and furrows until he was in front
of Alex, where he froze. But Alex didn’t give him much time for
second thoughts, crumpling forward with such abandon that Lucas had
to hug the boy or let him fall to the ground. Alex was warm and his
fingers dug tight and strong into Lucas’s back. Any other time and
Lucas would have thought it was one more seduction attempt, but
there was nothing artificial about the kid’s sobs. Lucas had no
idea what to say or do, so he stood there, his arms wrapped around
the boy, and he tried to give what comfort he could.
Finally, Alex’s crying eased off. He
straightened and pushed away gently, turning almost too quickly for
Lucas to see his face. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“No. Don’t be sorry. Can I do anything?”
Lucas needed a guidebook, but without one he’d have to settle on
taking the most direct route possible. “I have no idea what’s going
on, but I’ll help if I can.”
Alex took a deep, shaky breath before saying
“I think I messed things up. I mean, I definitely messed them up
for me. But I really hope I didn’t screw you over too.”
Not that long ago, Lucas would have laughed
at the idea that he could be screwed over, but things had gotten
better and now he actually did have something to lose. He kept his
voice level as he said, “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
Alex scrubbed a hand roughly over his face
before giving a bitter half-laugh. “I wanted to be honest. Like
Father Mark said.” The fierceness drained away and he sighed.
“Well, he said I should be honest if I was ready to be, but that if
I wasn’t ready it was okay to keep stuff to myself too. But I
was ready!” He shook his head sadly. “It was my dad who
wasn’t.”
Lucas pushed away his own memories of an
angry father. “But you said you’d already told them. You said you’d
told everybody. Some of the stuff you wear—how could anyone not
know?” He grinned quickly before remembering how serious the
situation seemed to be.
“I told him. But I guess he didn’t really
believe me. He told me to shut up and stop trying to be
trendy.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad.”
Alex looked like he had a retort but thought
better of it. “It could have been worse,” he conceded. “But that
was when I first told him, not this time.”
“So, this time…”
“He freaked out. Dragged me down to the
church so I could listen to him yell at Father Mark, and then at
the rector. And then…” Another shaky breath. “He told me I can’t be
in youth group and I can’t volunteer at the farm anymore. I said
volunteering there was important because I wanted to be a vet, and
he said there were lots of places I could work with animals. Places
without…”
It took a moment for it to make sense.
“Without me? That’s…” Was it ironic? Was that the word he was
looking for? He’d killed a man, been convicted and done his time in
the country’s roughest federal prison, but the father didn’t really
mind any of that. He objected to Lucas because a sixteen-year-old
had a crush on him. But it didn’t really matter why the father had
a problem—the solution was clear. “You don’t have to find somewhere
else. I can just work my regular hours and not stick around.” He
was surprised to think of how much it stung to think of not seeing
Alex every day. There was still no hint of attraction toward the
boy, but a friend was a rare and valuable thing, and it would hurt
to lose the only one he had. Still, it was a simple solution to the
problem. “I mean, that’d do, right? That’d satisfy him?”
“No!” Alex raised his head, the old defiance
coming through at last. “He can’t do that! He can’t tell me who I’m
friends with, or where I spend my time! I get good grades and I
don’t get in trouble. If you were a girl, none of this would be
happening. He’d probably be congratulating me for putting the moves
on an older woman. I’m not going to change my whole life and give
up the best part of every day just because he’s a homophobic
asshole.”
“Did you tell him that?”
Alex snorted. “Yeah. He said as long as I was
living under his roof I was going to follow his rules. So I’m not
going to live under his roof.” Alex nodded as if it were all
decided. “Look, are you, like, legally required to live here? I
can’t sign a lease ’cause I’m under eighteen, but I’ve got some
money saved up, and I could get a job. I just need a roommate.
Someone to sign the lease. And, you know…it’d be nice to have some
company.”
Well, that was a terrible idea. And the kid
was smart enough to have already figured that out for himself.
Still, Lucas probably should have found a better response than, “I
just planted the garden here. The carrots are coming up.”
Alex didn’t look impressed. “You can garden
anywhere, Luke.”
Not wanting to leave the squirrel behind was
Lucas’s next-best argument, so it was just as well that Alex didn’t
leave him time to say anything.
“But it’s not the garden, is it? It’s me. You
don’t want to live with me.”
Lucas wished he was better with words. “I
can’t live with you, Alex. I’m on parole, and it’s harder to
get busted than I thought, but moving in with a runaway minor with
an angry dad? That would do it, for sure.” And he probably should
have left it there, but there was something about this kid that
inspired Lucas to try for his own feats of honesty. “And I need to
stay here. For me.” I need somewhere I feel safe, somewhere I
know the routines and the people and the rules. It doesn’t matter
if I like them, I just need to know them. “I’m not as brave as
you are.”
Alex frowned at him. “So you just…you just
keep your head down and put up with it, day after day? You never
say anything?”
The kid seemed to have gone off on a bit of a
tangent. “I’m not putting up with much, not here. It’s a pretty
good place.”
“But before. Before…you know. Jail, and
everything. You never asked for what you wanted? Never demanded
that people treat you right?” He squinted thoughtfully. “You never
told anybody about being gay, did you? You still don’t, really. I
mean, the only reason I think you are is because you’ve never said
you aren’t!”
Lucas had no idea how the conversation had
moved in this direction, but he was pretty sure he wanted to move
it back where it belonged. “Okay, but the point is, you need to
find another roommate, or some other option. We need to figure this
out.”
“I’m not going home, so if that’s what you
mean by the ‘other option,’ you can forget it.”
“So, what then? You’re going to live on the
streets? Or in a shelter, taking a place from a kid who really did
get kicked out of his house, or who had to leave to keep them from
beating the shit out of him?” This was turning into a fight,
somehow, and that wasn’t going to do any good. Lucas tried to pull
himself back. “Do you have any friends you could stay with?” That
had worked for him, after all.
But Alex gave him an incredulous look. “Who
the hell is going to take me in? I don’t have any guy friends—they
made tracks even before I officially came out. And the girls? Their
parents aren’t going to let a boy move in with their princesses,
even if he does say he’s not interested.”
“Well, I veto the streets. No way, not even
in a small town in the summer time. It’s not safe. Not an
option.”
“Aw, that’s sweet. You think you have a
veto.”
“You’re damn right I have one. You just
pretty much admitted that I’m your only friend, buddy. That gives
me at least one veto. I think maybe I get two.”
“If you were my boyfriend, you’d get
three.”
“But I’d use one of them to veto me being
your boyfriend, so we’d be right back where we started.” On the
surface, it felt like any other joking conversation between the two
of them, but there was something different this time. Something
disturbing. Lucas’s past had made him familiar with masks of
bravado or aggression, not cheerfulness, but he could still
recognize the desperation pulsing beneath the surface. Alex was on
the edge of something serious, something bad, and he’d been stupid
enough to come to Lucas for help. Just another sign of how
desperate the kid was, obviously. Lucas sank down onto the top of
the battered picnic table at the edge of the garden. He had to at
least try. “Okay, let’s think it through. Relatives? Your mom?”
“She travels a lot for work. That’s why I
live with Dad. Besides, she does whatever he says. The only time
she ever stood up to him was the day she left him. Us.”
That was a trauma for another day. They
needed to focus on the current issue right then. So Lucas asked,
“Grandparents? Aunts or uncles?”
“None in town.”
“Out of town, then. Alex, come on. You aren’t
going to get everything you want. If you don’t want to live at home
and you do want to live somewhere safe, you might have to
leave town.”
“I couldn’t move in with you here? There’s no
space?”
“Wow, that’s a great idea. A few extra steps,
though. First, you’ve got to go commit a crime. A felony, I think.
Then you’ve got to serve your time. Then, yeah, come on out and
live here. Perfect.”
“I’m brainstorming! You’re not supposed to be
mean about someone’s ideas when they’re brainstorming.” Again, the
joking tone was almost normal, but not quite. There was a tremor in
Alex’s voice and his eyes were wild. Still, Lucas didn’t know what
to do other than go along with the charade and hope that eventually
illusion would become reality.
So he swatted Alex’s shoulder and said, “Your
brain should storm some better ideas, and then I wouldn’t have to
be mean.”
Neither of them spoke for a while. Alex
sounded much calmer when he finally said, “I’m not being a spoiled
little kid. I know that’s what you think, and I guess compared to
stuff you might have gone through, maybe I am spoiled. But this
isn’t…he’s asking me to pretend to be someone I’m not. Because he’s
ashamed of who I really am. I’m not angry because he’s telling me
to quit volunteering—it’s the reasons why he’s doing it. That’s
what I can’t live with. I feel like if I let him tell me that who I
really am isn’t good enough, then the next time it comes up, I’ll
let someone else tell me the same thing. I feel like it’s a big
step down a bad path.”
Lucas let the words sink in, then slid down
off the table until he was resting on the bench with Alex. “Yeah,”
he said softly. “Okay.”
“Okay…okay what, though?” The calm,
reflective tone was gone, and all it left behind was a scared
kid.
“I have no idea. But there must be someone
who does. Someone who could help. What about Father Groban? The
priest who runs this place. He’s a good guy.”
“He’s the one my dad was yelling at, and all
he wanted to do was calm my dad down. He practically agreed that I
shouldn’t go to youth group anymore. He’d just tell me to go home
and be an obedient son.”
Lucas wasn’t really sure that was true, but
he couldn’t think of a way to convince Alex. Besides, the boy
needed to talk to someone he knew well, someone he trusted. Lucas
sat on the bench with his shoulder tight against Alex’s and stared
at the garden as if it could give him the answers. He knew who Alex
needed to talk to. But how on earth could Lucas ask Mark Webber to
get involved? How could he even bring himself to dial the man’s
phone number?
He looked over at Alex. Alex was his friend,
and he needed help. Lucas might have abandoned most of the moral
code he’d been raised with, but there were some aspects he clung
to. His friend needed help. Lucas had to at least try to provide
it.
So he heaved himself to his feet and said,
“Stay here, okay? I’ll be back in a minute.”
Alex looked like he might object, but then he
just nodded. His tractability was the final evidence of his
dejected state, and Lucas headed for the house. There was a list of
emergency numbers by the phone in the kitchen. Mark Webber’s had
been scratched out and replaced, but Lucas was pretty sure the
original digits were still legible. If they weren’t, he’d find
another way to reach the priest. Now that he’d decided what he
needed to do, he was damn well going to do it.