Are You Sitting Down?, Page 20

  “Hello,” I said puzzled, thinking he must have been a deacon from the church, but he was dressed more like a farmer.

  “Hello there. You must be Travis,” he said with a deep booming voice like the bass singer in a choir. I found his tone oddly comforting.

  “I’m sorry. You are?”

  “Calvin. Calvin Baiter.”

  We shook hands. His handshake was warm and firm, and a bit greasy as if he had just put on lotion. I thought he might have come to drop off a gift for Mom, another fruit cake, but there were two large handle bags at his feet filled with wrapped boxes.

  “I hope I’m not too late. I had some last minute wrapping to do,” Calvin said looking down at the bags.

  I was confused. Mom appeared over my shoulder.

  “Travis, you’ve met Calvin. Hello dear, come inside out of the cold. Travis, will you get those bags for Calvin, please?”

  “Hi Lorraine. I can manage these just fine,” he said.

  He lifted the bags and stepped inside the door, banging the snow from his boots on the threshold. I stepped aside as he entered, shutting the door behind him.

  “Merry Christmas, dear,” Calvin said taking off his coat and kissing my Mom on the cheek, right there in front of me.

  He hung his coat on the rack behind the door as if he’d been here before. Mom and Calvin ignored the stunned look on my face as she took him by the arm and led him into the dining room. I picked up his two bags of gifts and moved them over by the tree.

  When I entered the dining room, Mom was fixing Calvin a plate. Sebastian and Martin stood to shake Calvin’s hand like he was an old friend. I walked over to Mom and touched her hand. She looked at me, and I raised my eyebrows in question.

  “Calvin and I met at church a while back,” she said in a whisper as if that explained it all.

  Mom served Calvin his plate of food as he sat down next to her place at the table. I sat back down too and aimlessly listened to Martin, and Sebastian laughing and talking with Calvin the way they once did with Dad. I watched Mom gazing at Calvin with that look in her eyes. She was in love, and she had failed to tell me. Even Ellen and Clare had got up to hug Calvin’s neck like he was a favorite uncle. I was now a strange in-law in the room that no one likes to talk to.

  I was lost.

  I remained quiet through the rest of the meal. Mom asked everyone if they’d like to eat dessert in the living room before opening gifts. Calvin asked if it would be alright to light the fireplace, something Dad had always done right after dinner. Everything about him seemed so familiar, even rehearsed like a joke this strange man and my mother had planned out. I must have been the only one aware because everyone else acted as though they’d known this man for a long time and that his nice demeanor was quite usual.

  Mom plated pie for us and loaded the kids up with cookies and brownies. They disappeared into the den to watch Calvin light the fire. I started clearing the table although Mom told me to just leave it for later. I had soon filled the trash can with our paper plates and cups. My intentions were to take out the trash, an excuse to step out of the house for a moment and get my thoughts together.

  I stood at the edge of the house staring off into the darkening sky. The lazy sun had already disappeared behind the grove. I spotted Mom’s cat hunting something out under the trees. He crouched low ready to pounce, a black shadow against the snow covered ground. The air was cold and still. It was so quiet I could hear the squeal of a field mouse as the cat leapt upon it and pinned it down. The cat carried the poor vermin down the hill and disappeared into the woods.

  I wanted to follow it and become lost in the woods myself. It was easy to do back when we were kids. Our imaginations transformed us to distant worlds every summer, far away from the confines of home. Too bad it was only pretend and couldn’t work now for me. Once again, I felt like a complete stranger amongst my own family. I doubt they were even missing me now back inside. The screen door creaking open and knocking back against its frame several times, finally coming to a rest, broke my far off gaze. Someone had stepped outside. I looked over my shoulder to see Ellen standing there.

  “Mom didn’t tell you she was seeing someone, did she?” Ellen asked.

  With the sun now completely gone, she was a blurry haze of clothes in the distance with a ball of foggy white growing in front of her each time she breathed out.

  “No, it appears I’m the last one to know.”

  “Shocked?”

  “Yeah. Just a little.”

  “We were too at first, but Calvin’s a nice guy. She really likes him. They met at church. His wife died a few years ago.”

  “Why couldn’t she tell me all this? Why couldn’t you? Why couldn’t anyone?”

  “I guess she forgot or we just assumed she had told you,” Ellen said with a shrug.

  “She forgot? She talks to me almost every other day on the phone. How long have they been seeing each other?”

  “A couple of months now, I think.”

  I shook my head in disgust. I was so disappointed. There had been so many boring days in my apartment in Memphis cured by the simple ring of the telephone. When Mom called, I always had something to say. I liked to think we confided in one another. There was constantly something to talk about, even if I’d stayed in bed all day. She kept me up to date on my siblings and how everyone was. I would ask how she was doing after she got done talking about the family.

  She had gone for a walk with Martin that morning, or skipped the walk to do the crossword in the newspaper. She went grocery shopping and ran into someone I went to high school with; they asked her how I was doing. Canned vegetables were on sale so she bought extra. Someone died or someone got married. I knew everything that went on in her daily life, or at least I thought I did. I realized our days are often filled with meaningless activities, and so we fill our conversations with meaningless words, but a conversation with Mom—no matter how insignificant—was never empty or worthless. She clung to every word we said. She was our audience, my audience.

  I searched the black sky for a twinkling star like I had lost everything. Ellen came up behind me and wrapped an arm around my waist. Her hand on my chest was nice as she squeezed me close for a warm consoling hug. My heart was still breaking, frail from the unclear punishment of my Mom keeping her happiness from me.

  Had she not wanted me to know? Was she afraid of my reaction? My thoughts should have been the least of her worries since I did not live here, and she did not have to face me immediately. Maybe she just didn’t want to tell me over the telephone. If so, then why had she not told me at all before Calvin arrived? Surely she knew he was coming over. Why leave the news to be born as a sudden surprise like this?

  “Ellen? Travis? Are you out there?” Mom’s voice called from the back porch.

  “We were just taking out the garbage,” I yelled.

  “Hurry in. The kids are anxious to start opening gifts,” she said closing the door.

  I didn’t move. Ellen let go.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Ellen asked.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine.” I still didn’t move.

  “Are you coming in?”

  I turned and took her hand in mine and we walked back up onto the porch and into the kitchen.

  As I entered the den, the heat from the fireplace chased the outdoor chills from my face. Robbie, Rachel, Daniel, and Nicole were all seated by the tree and giddy with excitement. Mom was leaning behind the tree digging through the gifts to start passing them out. She handed one to each of the kids to let them go first. Ellen sat on the sofa next to Clare and Sebastian. Martin and Marline were sitting on the hearth. Calvin was in Dad’s old chair. I leaned against the doorway, still keeping my distance from everyone while Mom sorted gifts.

  “Your Mom tells me you live in Memphis,” Calvin said turning the recliner around to look up at me.

  “Yes sir, I moved there right after high school to go to college,” I answered nervously without looking back
at him.

  I was trying to sound polite.

  “Bet there’s lots of pretty girls down that way,” Calvin said with a little laugh.

  “I guess so.”

  “You should take your brother, Sebastian, with you and you two boys could double date. You’d like Travis to introduce you to them pretty Memphis women, wouldn’t you?” he asked Sebastian jokingly.

  Sebastian grinned and agreed with a nod, not really paying attention to the nonsense Calvin was speaking.

  “I don’t date women,” I said unsympathetically.

  “I beg your pardon,” Calvin said looking at me again.

  “I said I don’t date women.”

  “Oh son, I bet you got a whole black book full of pretty ladies’ phone numbers, don’t ya?”

  “Calvin, why don’t you pass out the gifts you brought?” Mom said, interrupting him.

  “I’m gay,” I said.

  “What?” Calvin asked.

  “Gay!”

  “What?” he asked again louder.

  “I said I’m gay. I’m a homosexual. I don’t like women. I like men. Men! I sleep with men.” I had started to yell.

  “Travis!” Mom yelled.

  Martin and Ellen called out my name too.

  “What? I don’t understand.” Calvin said again, looking at my Mom for an answer.

  “I suck cock. I take it up the ass. I’m gay. I said I’m gay.”

  “Travis! Watch your mouth in front of the kids!” Mom shouted coming towards me, but I was already walking out the front door.

  “Mom! Stop!” Ellen called out.

  Ellen followed me outside, putting a hand up to keep Mom inside. I was digging in my pocket for my keys, almost to my car. Ellen grabbed my shoulder.

  “Don’t go,” she said.

  “I can’t do this, Ellen. Mom doesn’t have the nerve to tell me she’s dating someone, and she obviously can’t bring herself to tell her boyfriend that she has a gay son either. I can’t do this.”

  I shook her hand from my arm and opened the car door to get inside. She tried to hold the door open so I couldn’t close it, but it slipped from her hand. Sebastian had come outside and was standing on the front lawn watching. I started the car and Ellen raced to the passenger’s side to try to get in but the door was locked. Luckily, Clare had left enough room between my car and hers. I was able to maneuver the car sideways to turn around. I pulled my car into part of the yard adjacent to the driveway, knocking over a plastic lit snowman. I drove past everyone else’s vehicles and onto the road, leaving Ellen and Sebastian standing in the yard. I spotted Mom on the porch crying on Martin’s shoulder.

  My own tears were now pouring down my face. I felt betrayed, not only by Mom but by the whole family. I was too angry and confused to drive the hour and a half trip back to my apartment, but I didn’t know where else to go. I drove past the cemetery expecting to somehow find the gate still open in my favor so I could visit Justin’s grave, but the gate was closed. There was a sign on the fence that said the cemetery would be open tomorrow, Christmas Day.

  The part of the city of Ruby Dregs where all the restaurants and commerce lie is to the north of old downtown, separated by an expansion of expensive brick homes, the high school, the community college, and the public park. It is a long stretch of highway with the shopping mall on one end, and the park on the other. For years, teenagers have driven the strip on Friday nights, circling the mall, riding down the road to the park, and either circling back again or congregating in the community pool parking lot. It’s a shame small town kids have nothing better to do than waste gas, but if there were other things to do besides go to the three-screen movie theater, whose to say they wouldn’t still be bored with their simple lives?

  Passing the public pool heading north, not a single car was parked there tonight and the strip was practically empty. Families and friends took traditional cues from holiday greeting cards and gathered at relatives’ homes or at parties, where I should be right now instead. Young kids were already nestling into bed, unable to sleep with the anxiety that Santa was coming tonight.

  I spotted a plane in the air. It’s blinking red light way up above took me back to my own days of Santa Claus. Our grandparents would offer to take the five kids out looking at Christmas lights after dinner. Mom and Dad were supposedly in the car behind us following along. Grandmother would point out a blinking red light in the sky and tell us it was Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. It’s funny how the magic of a child’s Christmas was built on little white lies.

  Mom and Dad magically beat us back home and waited on the front porch for us to drive up, knowing we wanted to race inside to see if Santa had come. Boot tracks of snow were still fresh on the carpet. The cookies had been eaten; the milk glass was empty. And an array of toys and wrapped gifts, ones that had not been there when we left, were now nestled by the tree.

  White lies. The thought of it made me laugh. The White Family lies. I didn’t know what was worse, lying about something or not saying anything at all. No lies had been told about Calvin, but Mom’s silence was as bad as a fib. At least, it was to me now.

  I pulled into a gas station that was lit up like a casino. Sitting in my car at the pump, I waited a few seconds looking for an attendant to move around on the inside. I wanted to make sure they were open. Not seeing anyone, I got out of the car and walked up to the entrance. With hesitation, I pulled on the door expecting it to be locked but it opened. A curly headed lady chewing gum stood up from her stool behind the counter. She was watching a black and white Christmas movie on a small ten inch screen.

  “Hey ya’ll,” she said, vaguely looking in my direction.

  I turned to see if someone was coming in behind me who I had not spotted when I was outside, but there was no one.

  “Hi. Just came in to see if you were open.”

  “Yep. Twenty-four, seven, three sixty-five,” she said, signifying they were always open.

  “You traveling through?” she asked, smacking her gum.

  “I guess you could say that. Do you have any coffee?”

  “Sure don’t. Not too busy tonight, so I didn’t make any. I didn’t want it to sit and go stale. If you wanna wait, I’ll make a pot.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll just fill up and be on my way. Can I use your restroom?”

  She pointed to a door in the back corner. It whined on its heavy hinges as I pulled it open. It was dark inside, so I flipped on the light and expected to see the horror which is a public gas station toilet. Surprisingly, this one was as clean as my own and smelled of lemons. The floor shined from a nice wax job and there was no writing on the walls.

  I didn’t need to use the restroom. I just felt the need to splash some cool water on my face. The sink had cold and hot water, and both worked. There was one of those public restroom vending machines on the wall next to the mirror. I gazed at its contents: cough drops, aspirin, cheap cologne, and condoms. The advertisements for each were crude drawings of a stick man coughing or holding his head, except for the condoms. A bright colored scantily clad pin up girl stood above the crank to buy those. She towered over the stick men like a giant.

  As a teenager I had always been intrigued by the tiny boxes these condoms came in. It was like those quarter machines outside the grocery store for gum or small toys, only for grown-ups. I dug in my pocket for two quarters to buy one now. I had not bought anything like this in years. Justin and I never practiced safe sex. We had an unopened box of condoms from the pharmacy in the nightstand that remained there for the whole ten years we were together.

  I turned the crank and a tiny matchbox size pack slid out into the tray at the bottom of the machine. I picked it up and admired the same pin up girl on the machine also printed on the little box. I undid the flap at the top and checked inside to find the pinkish balloon rolled up and sealed in a small plastic bag. I closed the flap and tucked the box into my pocket. I don’t know what kind of protection I thought it could give me now.

/>   “If you got time, I know where you can go and get a nice cup of coffee, maybe a piece of pecan pie too,” the woman said when I returned to the front counter.

  “Lady, I got all night.”

  “Name’s Peggy.”

  “I’m Travis.”

  “Hi, Travis. You know where Cozy’s is?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “It’s downtown. Take the strip to the courthouse and it’s on the south side, opposite the veteran’s memorial. I can write it down for you if you want,” she said grabbing a pen and a napkin.

  “I think I can find it. You sure they are open tonight?”

  “Twenty-four, seven…”

  “Three sixty-five,” I finished.

  “You got it!”

  “Thanks for telling me. Merry Christmas, Peggy,” I said paying for the gas.

  “Same to you, Travis, and you be careful out there. If you see Ricky down at Cozy’s, tell him Peggy sent ya.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  I pumped the gas and then drove downtown. All of the shops along the perimeter of the square were lit with strands of white lights bordering all of the windows. Cozy’s was easy to find as it was the only business lit up on the inside. A blue neon sign blinked OPEN in the window. A strand of large colored bulbs—red, orange, green, and blue—blinked around the door. There were two other cars and a truck parked in the front. I pulled in next to them and went inside. The clang of a cow bell announced my arrival. It reminded me of the bell Mr. Greer had hanging on the door at the grocery.

  A large bosomed lady was crocheting in one of the booths. She never looked up from her work, and seemed to be talking or singing to herself. An old man on a barstool at the counter feebly turned his stool to look at me. He was as skinny as a walking stick and raised his hand for a slow painful-like wave when I came in the door. His tobacco stained grin was unusually reassuring.

  A clean young man behind the counter gave a nod. He was skinny and pale with fire red short hair peeking out from under a trucker’s ball cap. He had a soul patch of hair down his pointy dimpled chin, and large almond brown eyes. I had always had a strange attraction toward red heads.