Caterpillars Can't Swim Page 18

  What choice do I have now?

  “I guess I’d better get moving then. He’s expecting me.” She gives me a look that might make the next hour worth living, and then I shut down my computer, taking a deep breath before going to face whatever comes next.

  I head outside and down the street, trying to ignore the heavy storm clouds that are rapidly filling the sky making the day so dark it seems like the world’s about to end. A thunderstorm today would be a great example of pathetic fallacy for my English teacher.

  Or maybe it would just be pathetic.

  I arrive at Jack’s within ten minutes. He’s watching for me because he knows I can’t get up the one cement step very easily on my own.

  He comes out and pulls me up and into the house. His face is so pale that he looks like he did right after I pulled him out of the river. His mother is going to be worried before he even starts to talk.

  “Where’s your mom?” I ask him.

  “She’s on her way home from work. She had the early shift,” he says, looking out the window.

  “Maybe you should have some water or something to eat. You look like you’re not feeling too well.”

  “I’d puke if I put anything in my mouth right now.”

  “Well, maybe you should splash water on your face or something. You’re going to scare her before you even open your mouth.”

  He goes over and looks at himself in the hall mirror. He scrubs his hands over his face and looks again.

  “I look like shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll try washing my face. I really can’t eat right now.” He walks down the hall, leaving me alone in the living room.

  I look around. A beige couch sits against one wall, with a flowered blanket neatly tucked into the back and seat. A couple of comfortable-looking chairs and a coffee table. No TV in the room. I think they keep theirs in the family room at the back of the house. There are quite a few pictures on the wall above the couch. I wheel over and take a look.

  Every photo is of Jack, starting from when he was a tiny baby right up to what must be his last year’s school picture. It’s like a photo gallery with him as the only subject.

  I wonder if his mother has embarrassing videos of him like mine does.

  “Better?” Jack comes back into the room. His face is now red and splotchy where he obviously scrubbed like he was trying to take the skin right off. His eyes look wet and red too. He definitely looks different, but I don’t think better is the right word for it.

  “Definitely.” Seems like the right time to lie.

  “Oh, shit. She’s coming,” Jack says, running to the window and then immediately stepping back out of sight as if he’s playing hide-and-seek.

  “Jack. You have to calm down. I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’ve just been looking at the Jack photo display here. She’s your mom. She loves you.”

  “She’s my mom.” He whispers it and closes his eyes for a second. They pop back open as we both hear the doorknob turn.

  “Jack, I’m home,” his mom calls out in a cheerful voice. Jack looks at me, his whole body trembling. I just put my hand up and shake my head, mouthing the words “It’s fine.” So helpful.

  “In here!” Jack calls out, a little late as she’s already coming into the room.

  “Hi, sweetie. Oh hi, Ryan! I didn’t know you were coming over.” She smiles at me. She has a really nice smile.

  “Yeah, Jack wasn’t working today so I thought I’d come by.” I smile back. Jack is just standing there, frozen in time and space.

  “I wanted to tell you how nice it was that you invited Jack on your trip to Bainesville.”

  “It was fun. We’ll probably go next year too, right Jack?” I raise my voice a bit, trying to get him unstuck. He looks startled. I don’t think he’s heard anything his mom or I said.

  “Right,” he says, nodding at nothing.

  “So, can I get you boys something to eat or drink?”

  “No, Mom. I actually have to talk to you about something.” The words come out too fast and too loud. Jack closes his eyes for a second and takes a deep breath. His mom seems instantly worried. I don’t blame her. He looks like crap.

  “Honey? Are you all right? You don’t look well. Is something wrong?” She puts her hand on his forehead, mom style. He reaches up and gently pulls it down and away.

  “No, nothing’s wrong. Not really. I just need to tell you something.”

  “Okay.” She sits down, folding her hands in her lap like a well-behaved school kid, obviously trying to stay calm and look interested instead of worried.

  I do the same because I don’t know what else to do.

  “I want to talk to you about what happened that day. At the river.” He looks over toward me. His mom takes a deep breath before nodding calmly.

  “I’m listening.”

  Jack stands for a few seconds, looking at the pictures of himself smiling, riding trikes, digging in the sand, or sitting on a man’s lap. I assume it’s his dad. He stares at his own life for a while and then starts.

  “I’ve been pretty…unhappy for a while. Confused about some stuff.”

  She nods sympathetically as if she knows what he’s talking about. Maybe she does. Maybe she’ll tell him she knew it all along and everything is going to work out all right.

  “That day by the water, I was just…trying to do some thinking. You know? Figuring out who I am and what’s going on with my life. How to keep going when it’s so full of lies and…crap.” He stops and takes a breath. His mom looks like she’s going to cry.

  “It was just so much. No one understanding me and what was going on.”

  “You could have talked to me.”

  “But I couldn’t. That’s exactly the point. I was afraid to tell you what was going on. Afraid of what you’d say. I love you. I didn’t want to be someone who hurt you. I couldn’t stand to think about it anymore.”

  “So you went into the water on purpose.” She says it as a fact, not a question. It’s obvious she already knew. A tear escapes and trickles down her cheek.

  “I was just trying to get away for a while. You know? Escape from everything. From myself.” The last word comes out like a sigh.

  “And from me? You can’t go away from me, Jack. I’m your mother. It would break me to lose you.” Another tear joins the first one, and she brushes it away impatiently as if she’s pissed with it.

  “I wasn’t thinking about it that way. I was trying to…protect you.”

  “Protect me? From you? Parents don’t need protecting from their children, Jack! I am so sorry that I did this to you. That we did this. I feel sick about it. I didn’t realize how much the divorce had affected you. I know that some children see themselves as responsible when their parents separate, but I really didn’t think you saw it that way. Your dad and I obviously didn’t do this right, and it hurt you. I’m so, so sorry!”

  “The divorce? You think this is about the divorce?” Jack has one hand on his forehead, rubbing it as if he’s in pain.

  “Of course. I should have known. And you don’t have to try to protect me. I knew it was selfish to let your father leave. I knew it was against my vows. I should have tried harder. I just couldn’t. I thought it would be better for you in the long run to have a peaceful house but I didn’t think enough about how it would affect you later—now.” She takes a deep, quivering breath. Jack shakes his head over and over again.

  “It is better. I’m not a baby. I could see how unhappy you guys were. I was glad he left. He was angry all the time—with both of us. I didn’t want you dealing with that. I didn’t want to deal with it. This isn’t about Dad or the divorce. It’s about me!”

  I’m wishing I was anywhere else in the whole world. I think both of them have forgotten I’m even in the room.

  “What do you mean? Is so
mething wrong? Are you sick?”

  Jack looks at her and then at me. He smiles, but it’s the most painful expression I think I’ve ever seen.

  “No. I don’t think so. Nothing is wrong with me. I’m not sick. I’m gay.” His voice trembles. His eyes fill up with tears, but he rubs them away.

  His mother sits perfectly still, staring at him. I can’t read the expression on her face. It’s like she’s just gone blank, waiting for someone to fill her in.

  “What?” Her voice is barely above a whisper.

  “I’m gay. I’ve always been gay. I’ve had to hide it from you and everyone else since I was a kid. This is a really small town and people here aren’t exactly accepting. I didn’t know how you would feel, either, so I just hid. And I don’t want to hide anymore.” Every word is quaking, and the tears are dripping down his cheeks.

  “What are you talking about, Jack? You aren’t gay. I’m your mother. I would know.”

  “No, Mom. You wouldn’t know. I got really good at keeping it from you. I didn’t know how you’d feel, and I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “You’re obviously confused, Jack. You can’t be gay. You used to see that girl, Mandy.” She’s looking down at her lap as if there might be something written there that will explain what’s going on.

  “Mandy—Mandy Wilson? She was just my best friend…when I was like, twelve!” Jack’s voice is getting louder and higher.

  His mother keeps her head down for a few seconds. When she raises it to look at him, her eyes have changed.

  “You can’t be gay, Jack. You’re going to marry a woman and have children. We’ve always talked about that. You know that the church doesn’t approve of anything else.” Her voice is calm and sure, like she’s solved the problem and just needs to explain it so Jack will understand.

  “I don’t need the church to approve! Just you.” He takes a step backward.

  I feel sick. This isn’t going well at all.

  “I can’t approve of my only son destroying his chance at a normal life! You don’t have to do this. You can decide who you want to be.” She holds her hands out as if offering something to him.

  “No! That’s the point. This is who I am. I didn’t choose it. I just am it. You have to decide to accept that.” He is pleading with her as she just shakes her head again.

  “I don’t understand this. Did someone do something to make you believe this? Is it some kind of Internet thing trying to make young people believe they’re something they’re not? How did this happen?”

  She bursts into loud, harsh sobs. Jack looks totally destroyed.

  “It didn’t happen. It just is.”

  “You need to get some help, Jack. We can find someone to help you figure this out,” his mother says between sobs.

  “To figure out how not to be gay?”

  “To figure out how to understand that you can have a normal life.”

  “I can have a normal life. No one needs to fix me. I’m not broken! Please, Mom. I need you to understand!” He takes a step toward her, his hands out like he’s a little kid who wants to be picked up.

  She doesn’t move. Just looks like she’s never seen him before.

  “Mom?”

  She shakes her head at him, hugging herself and crying as if her heart just broke. As if her only son just drowned in the river.

  He stares at her for a second and then runs from the room and out the front door. I sit there, expecting her to run after him but she doesn’t. She just keeps crying.

  Doesn’t she get it? Doesn’t she understand where he might be going?

  I can’t get out of here fast enough to stop him. What the hell am I supposed to do?

  I grab my phone and send a quick text.

  Jack’s run away. Check bridge pls!

  My phone vibrates back by the time I’ve wheeled my way across the room.

  On it.

  I head out into the hallway, but something stops me. I turn and look at Jack’s mom, sitting on the couch, hugging herself instead of him.

  “You’re his mother. His mother. It’s your job to love him! No matter what. He was scared to tell you, but I told him it would be fine. He’s gone out the door, don’t you see that? How can you just sit there? He went into the fucking river once because he was afraid. Where do you think he’s gone now?”

  I don’t wait for an answer. I get outside and bump myself down the step so I can head to the bridge. Cody should be there by now. I hope he was fast enough.

  The sky has opened up and water is pouring on my head by the time I start down the sidewalk. Once I build up enough momentum to take my hand off the wheels, I do the one thing any independent, mature young man does in a crisis.

  I call my mother.

  Thirty

  I push down the wet road as fast as I can, ignoring the occasional twinge in my shoulder. I’m at the bridge in less than five minutes, and as I approach, I can see Cody’s bike thrown down on the ground.

  It’s raining so hard that I can barely see, but I think I can make out bodies on the bridge, right at my “window.” I start to push myself over, my heart pounding so hard that I swear I can actually see it through my shirt.

  The storm is getting more excited by the second, with the wind joining in on the rampage, throwing sticks and leaves around while the river churns itself into a frenzy of waves that have scared away all the ducks. If Jack ends up down there today, I don’t know if we’ll be able to find him in time.

  I finally get up to where I can see them clearly. Cody is standing in front of my window. Jack is trying to move around him while Cody feints left and right, stopping him from getting through like they’re at some kind of bizarre football practice. It almost looks funny, and I have a ridiculous urge to laugh.

  I swallow it hard as I approach. Neither of them notices me in all the noise and mess.

  “You’re not going in the river again! I’d have to jump in after you, and I’m already wet enough!” Cody yells at him, trying to hold on to the railing and block Jack at the same time.

  “I don’t want you to jump in. I didn’t want Ryan to jump in. Everyone needs to leave me the fuck alone!”

  “Jack!” I scream his name. He spins around.

  “Go away, Ryan! I don’t want you here!”

  “Too bad! I’m not leaving. Neither of us is, so you might as well just stop it. You can’t get past both of us.”

  “Why do you care anyway? I’m nothing to you guys. Cody hates me, and you just see me as a charity case. So back off!”

  “That’s just bullshit,” Cody yells at him. Jack spins around toward the water again, trying to climb up on the railing. Cody grabs him and shoves him back toward me.

  “I said leave me alone!” He’s screaming and crying. “Just let me go, Ryan. You heard her. She doesn’t want me!” He gives up suddenly and crumples to the ground, lying on his side as the water pours down on him. I move closer, trying to shelter him a bit. It’s raining so hard that he could practically drown without going into the river.

  “She probably just needs time. Old people can’t figure things out as fast as we can,” Cody says to him, still standing guard. He should still be carrying his shield.

  “I knew she wouldn’t understand! I shouldn’t have told her. It’s done. Don’t you see? I’ve ruined everything! Now I can’t go backwards!” Jack is crying and yelling at the same time. Cody reaches over and pats him gently on the shoulder.

  “Yeah, well you sure as hell wouldn’t be helping anything if you went forward right now because I would have to jump in after you and pull a Ryan. Which would piss him off because then he wouldn’t be the big town hero anymore.”

  “Because that was so much fun,” I say. Cody just snorts as Jack ignores us, drawing his knees up to his chest with both arms and rocking himself.

  “Why did I tell he
r? I’m so stupid,” he says.

  “Sounds like she’s the stupid one,” Cody tells him. Jack gives him a furious look.

  “Don’t talk about her like that—she’s my mother!”

  “Right. She is. She’ll figure it out,” I say. “Cody’s right. Adults are just slow to process things. She just needs time.” The weather is getting worse, and I’m doing my best to outshout it, trying to make Jack hear me. Trying to make him believe me.

  “Time for what? To accept me, or to decide she wants to kick me out?” he yells.

  “I still don’t think she’ll kick you out.” I say it, but I’m not sure anymore.

  “So, she’ll just try to cure me for the next year and make me feel like some kind of freak. I don’t want to live that way.” He sits up. Cody casually closes one hand on his arm. Jack doesn’t seem to notice.

  “Well, if it gets too bad, you can always stay with us until you move away,” I tell him, really hoping that’s true.

  Jack thinks about what I just said. “Your mom would be cool with that?” he asks.

  “I’m sure she would be.”

  He looks at me and then out over the water. I look too, blinking as the memory of staring down there desperately trying to find a yellow skirt flashes into my mind.

  Jack raises his head. “But I don’t want to live with you and your mother. I want to live with my own mother. I want to live with my own mother who wants to live with me. The me that I am, not the one she thinks I should be!” He starts to get to his feet and looks down at his arm, realizing that Cody has a hold on him. He tries to shake loose but Cody just tightens his grip.

  Cody says something to him that I can’t hear. Jack stops struggling and stands there, staring at the water.

  What I can hear is the faint sound of cars over the thrashing rain. I see the lights of what I hope is my mother’s car, along with a police cruiser with full emergency lights dancing. Both vehicles pull up to the bottom of the bridge.

  Mom called the police. Great.

  And now we’re right back to the beginning of this particular story.