Blue

Chapter Four Freeing

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Being with Henry has allowed me to forget a lot of the past two years. I've slowly been getting better with being in public. I do not believe that everyone is judging or watching me. Henry has done this because he's so social. He says that he isn't, but he loves being in a group receiving that attention. I don't fault him. When you are born into a perfect life, you get accustomed to attention. Me on the other hand.... I've always been part of the supporting cast.

The first time we were together I was surprised by all the emotions I was feeling. When he put his arms around me and pulled me close it had been so long since I felt happy and wanted. Henry is huggable and safe. He smells like Krispy Kreme doughnuts. I think I'm growing to trust him something I swore I would never allow myself to do again.

It's raining. My room window is open just a bit, and you can feel the cold, wet air of the outside. It's Saturday the week before Thanksgiving break. Henry's curled up beside me. I'm pressed against the cinder block wall facing into the room. I can smell Henry. I want him to wake so we can be here together for a little before we have to go out into the world.

"Buddy...hey...."I whisper as I trace his eyes, nose, and lips with my finger.

"Mmmm....what time is it?"Henry asks.

"Early...maybe I haven't looked."

"You are a morning person...don't deny it."

"Kiss me," I say.

Henry moves into kiss without opening his eyes. He's silly as usual. He places his head on my shoulder and blows in my ear as he kisses it. He follows the line of my neck till he gets to my shoulder and he lightly bites me. He knows this makes me tingle and covered in goosebumps. He finds my lips again and as we kiss he takes my penis in his hand. I do the same to him. This has happened before. Neither of us want to waste good erections we jack each other off never breaking from kissing.

"Oh fuck.....damn, "I release.

Henry laughs at my dirty talk. "Nice of Tony to vacate the room yesterday," Henry says.

"It was....he already had plans...said he'd be back late Sunday." I say reaching for something to mop up with.

"So, you know he knows...right?"

"I choose not to think about it....and he's never said anything to me."

"But?....you're relaxed about it....and he's always nice when I'm around," Henry explains.

"I misjudged him....we get along fine....just wouldn't say we're friends like you and Tom."

We lie there a little while longer talking about nothing important. It's a cold, wet November Saturday, and I'm meeting up with my uncle, Peter around lunch. I'm not sure if I should invite Henry or not. Peter knows about me I just don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. He's coming to see the student show. I didn't tell him it was Mary and Pat who asked him to come for the weekend. I've learned that they went to college together and had just remained friends all these years. That gives me hope that I can find a friend that will last.

"My uncle is coming today....ok?" I say.

"Ok....isn't he friends with Pat and Mary?"

"Yeah....I just wanted to let you know....so if...I mean...we might go to dinner or something....alone..," I do my best to explain.

"I get it....no prob.....can I still come to the show?...I.."

"Yes...yeah....I just not sure how to ......"

"We're friends....how's that...no lie....we just do things not all friends do....," Henry responds with a smile as he kisses me.

"Thanks....buddy."

"No prob...kid."

"I've got some things to do...meet me over in FAB around 11:00 ok..." I say.

"Sure...so I'm being thrown out?"

"Sorry....I'll makes it up to you.....we can sleep in all day tomorrow."

The gallery has most of us majors adding the final touches to our areas. I doubt my choices. Others have perfect areas with their works displayed like a museum. I'm the one stand out. I've done something different. I'm not sure if I'm showing five pieces or just one. Can't make changes now will just have to live with my decision or decisions.

The first poster is The Body of Christ. It's the tongue out wide mouth head back black and gold screen print. Second is Suffer The Children. Silver and copper dust on black linen of two people kissing. The third is Thirteen Verses. A collage of thirteen Polaroid images lifted and placed on the nylon window screen. Fourth is Sacred Heart. Red and gold ink silk screen on cotton of a photo of a dissected heart. Five is Sanctuary. It's a large blue canvas with slight shade variations of the word Sanctuary stenciled all over -- Henry's hidden in this piece. His profile is there in the very center with the word Sanctuary framing it over and over.

I look it all over and realize that it's me. This is Alan Layne. This is the work he did his first semester in college. I think I'm proud. I want to be proud.

I decide to leave. Stevie another freshman art major is rearranging her works. I can tell she's nervous. I'm not sure if it's about a grade or about having people see her work.

"It's great.....their very good," I say looking at her handmade paper sculptures.

"Thanks....they seem too crafty....I'm not sure," she says.

"No...for sure not crafty."

"Hey, so, you really like printmaking.....the big one with the two kissing....great...it looks like embroidery or something...it's good."

"Thanks....not sure about it....looks like something you'd buy at Spencer's," I say.

"No way....is any of your family coming?"

"Um...yeah...and you?" I ask avoiding too many questions.

"Dad and step-mom...yeah...is your boyfriend coming?"

"Umm...who?"

"Oh, I thought you and the Henry guy...sorry...."

"No...mean yes...he'll be here," Did I admit that Henry is my boyfriend to someone I barely know? I excuse myself and escape to the bathroom.

This is a white bathroom. It's clean and bright and well lit. Maybe I won't be disturbed. I head into the handicap stall. I've carried the drafting pen with me in case there is an emergency. This is an emergency. If I bleed through my pants, it won't be seen because they're black. I've thought of everything. I inspect my handiwork, my art. It's been about a week since the last stab. I'm not sure if that's what I want to call what I do. Alan stabs himself. It doesn't have the feeling that this release provides.

I place the tool in my fist. The weight and feel are perfect. My mind concentrates on what is in my fist, and it just happens. All the air escapes me, and for a few seconds, I don't breath. My body tingles. My mind is blank. I've taken back control. Alan's in charge. I return the pen to my pocket. I tend to the wound. I blot it with toilet paper until it almost stops bleeding. All this is calming. It gives me something to think about instead of what's outside this stall.

"There you are," Henry catches me as I walk out of the bathroom door.

"It's me," I say looking to see if anyone else is in the hall.

"Hey.... your stuff looks the best....I'll give you an award later."

"Promise?"

"Of course...you go first...I'm going to wash my hands or something," Henry says patting me on the arm.

"Later."

The lobby and gallery are filling up. Somebody has turned on some awful smooth jazz. It's only a matter of time before someone has the plastic cups filled with wine and people mingle. I suck at this stuff.

"There you are," Mary alone walks up.

"Me...all me," I say.

"Don't be nervous....just smile and nod and say thank you," she says leaning in to kiss my cheek, "where's Henry?"

"He's floating around....he's here....what about Pat and Peter?"

"They're on the way. Took the boys over to their sleepover."

"Ok," I say as Henry approaches and Mary greets him with a kiss.

"So, Pat and I are having dinner at the house you two are coming," she says.

"Cool," Henry says.

"Ok...what about Peter?"

"He's coming too......spending the night at Che' Grange," Mary says.

"Ok."

"It's ok....no stress...just a relaxed meal and lovely conversation," Mary says as she grabs my hand.

More and more people move into the space. What I first thought was a large expanse now seems as small as the white bathroom I want to escape to. Henry and Mary are talking as they travel around the room. They're so much alike I realize. A couple of people ask me some questions. I don't know them. I do my best to explain my thought and process in my art. It's all made up. I can't provide any information as to the why's, and so I just do my best to keep the story straight.

"Hello," Peter says. I turn to see him alone in a blue suit with no tie. I've not seen him since he dropped me off in June. I'm surprised at how much he and my mom resemble.

"Hello," I say realizing that I may have a slight smile on my face. I don't think I believed he would be here until this very moment. Peter moves in and hugs me. I'm stiff and surprised but not ungrateful for his embrace.

"Alan...you look so good.....you....is this really...damn."

"It's me...."

"Well, hey where's your art?"

Broadening my smile. "Here....these five."

"Oh wow.....Mary said your stuff was.....you did this?"

"All me..."

"It's all....I think I could have picked this out as being done by you.....I really do...tell me something about it....why prints....why this?"

"Ok.....I don't know....printmaking is not only art but a skill....like photography...I don't know.....having an image...making copies of it letting the process show through makes it real.....to me at least." As I say this, I notice I'm surrounded by a few people who seem to be listening to me. "The impression left by the screen, pencil marks.....voids.....all show that something real happened....these aren't noticeable at a distance but when you look closer....well....it kind of lets you know that it took work to make......sorry...if that don't make...."I trail off.

"What Mr. Layne is saying the trace left behind by the hand that produced it shows it's origin. This has been discussed among artist since time began. I concur that these bits make the work real...or alive if you'd like......I would add in art nothing is a mistake or happens by accident...all is intent....wouldn't you say Alan?" Mr. Alison the Chair of Visual Arts says and asks me to agree.

"I'd have to say yes....sir....you're the professor," I say as some in the crowd laugh.

Everyone slowly goes back into their little groups. I'm glad. I feel like I'm going to puke. Henry walks up and hands me a plastic cup of wine.

"Sorry....all I could snag quickly was this white," he says.

"Don't care.....thanks."

Pat is introducing Peter to Mr. Alison. I'm standing with Henry and Celeste on the edge of the room. It's cooler over this way, and Celeste has brought some tequila in an Orange Crush can. I don't care what it tastes as it gives me some courage to not run too far.

"Damn...slow down....fuck....you should've gotten stoned before this thing.....just relax," Miss Canada says. She takes the drink from me and replaces it into her bag. She takes my arm smiling at Henry she leads me into the crowd. "Now.....your fine....your stuff is the best....I mean your art...I've not had your stuff so I wouldn't know .....Henry seems to think it rules...so.." this is what she does. Celeste is a comedian, and although sometimes it's annoying today I'm enjoying hearing her routine.

"Remind me to push you down some stairs later...dear," I say.

"Oh for sure sweetie....

In no time the show is over, and the artist is left alone with their work. We all compliment each other and agree that next semester will be better. I exit heading out the side of the FAB. To my surprise, Henry is waiting at my favorite escape route.

"Knew you'd come this way...Mr. Layne," he says with a smile. He follows behind me as I go to the dorm to change clothes and chill before the big dinner tonight.

"You're learning all my tricks, and I hate that.....I'll have to get some more and be more guarded."

"I put Bond to shame...you can't escape me...So, great job and I know you're glad it's over.....now I have to get you over to the Grange's for dinner and quite possible some dancing or at least a floor show."

"Buddy....I'm not sure of this thing," I say.

"You don't have to be sure you just have to go and be cool......anyway do you think Pat hasn't already shared our relationship with Uncle Peter?"

"I know."

"So let's rock this thing...change clothes or do whatever you got to do and let's get going."

"Fine."

"Don't you fine me young man, "Henry laughing.

There's a fire in the hearth and Mary has candles going all over the house. I'm standing at the breakfast bar holding a glass of wine. I'm observing all the activities going on in and around the kitchen. Mary and Henry are mixing something up in a large pitcher. Peter and Pat are talking loudly about something I can't get a grasp of.

"Everyone gets in here and makes a plate....food is done," Mary says.

Henry hands me a plate. He mouths "smile" to me as I notice how blue his eyes are. I grin. During dinner the subject is college. Pat, Peter, and Mary's as well as ours. A lot of things have not changed others are vastly different. We do not have to be in the dorm by ten on weeknights and midnight on the weekends. Fuck that.

"Alan, your work today was very good," Peter begins "what you said about printmaking being a skill as well as an art form.....well I thought the goal of art was to be perfect....."

"Well, no not really......seeing those little bits left behind by the artist shows that the work is alive," I explain not realizing that I had joined a conversation.

"You leave a part of you behind...."Mary says.

"I'm not looking for perfection I'm looking for the contentment the artist felt," I add.

"I've never thought of it in that way....I've learned something new today....actually several new things," Peter says.

Henry and I clear the table and refill glasses. The party is moving into the living room. We cluster around the fireplace enjoying the coziness of it all.

"So, Henry what are you studying?" Ask Peter.

"I'm not for sure, but it looks like education. I would like to be a science teacher," Henry says.

"That's great....have you worked with kids before?" Peter asks

"Yes, lots.....I guess for a guy my age."

We all slowly move into the living where Pat begins to talk about Henry teaching the boys guitar and how they enjoy Henry and I coming to dinner and playing with them. Mary chimes in every now. For the most part, the evening goes really well.

On the way back to the dorm we talk about the day. "I like your uncle...... He's very cool," Henry says.

"I'm glad it was such an easy night," I acknowledge that I did my best to stay calm. "He's just my uncle, and he took me in when my family didn't want me."

"Your lucky....you have him," Henry says. "Do you mean they just kicked you out....was it because you're gay?"

"I don't know the reason.....I was in a hospital after I hurt myself and they never picked me up...Uncle Pete was there telling me I was going to live with him."

"Do you think your uncle is gay?"

"I don't think so but I lived with him almost a year and a half, and he never had a date that I saw."

"John really messed you up.....look at how much better you are now," Henry says in a low voice. He has no idea how much work and effort it has taken to be like I am now. There are very little conversations about what I went through...he doesn't know the drugs I take or that I see a psychiatrist every other week. Someday I may tell him it all.

Entering the dorm Henry is called over to a gang of guys playing pool. He turns to me as if to ask permission. Tom nods my way. "I'm heading up I want to go to bed I'm having breakfast with my uncle in the morning."

"Cool, I guess Tony's up there so I'll see you after breakfast. I'll leave you a note where I'm at......so so that you know I want to kiss you goodnight......"

"Me too....goodnight."

I climb the steps and head to the bathroom at the end of the suite. I've some business to take care of before I go to the room. Thank God the bathroom is empty. I hit the far stall and lower my jeans. My tool is in my pocket. Pulling it out instantly calms me -- my heart races with anticipation of what is happening. I grasp the tool in my fist and bring it down with extra force. It lands right next to yesterday's work. I catch my breath, but quickly I'm still as the pain rolls over me.

After the clean-up, I head to the room which happens to be void of any trace of Tony. I'm stunned. As I head farther in, I see a folded piece of paper with Alan scrawled on it lying on my bed. I'm nervous to open it, and so I just sit down. I wonder what happened to Tony. Did he just move out or did he leave school? I open the note.

"Alan,

I moved out because I was taking heat from living with a fagot. Nother personal it's we don't fit as roommates. At least now you and Henry have a place to hang in and do your gay stuff.

Tony"

I'm crying. Seeing that word written hurts especially since we never intruded on Tony and the fact that people know about Henry and me. This is John all over again. Soon Henry will leave, and I will be alone. I knew this was going to happen....where am I going to go now? I don't know how long I sit there in the mostly dark room going over and over what's happened and what's going to happen next. I'm brought out of my thoughts by pounding on the door. This is it....either a mob is coming for me or Henry's coming to say we have to beak it off.

"Open the fucking door," I hear Henry shout as I slowly get up wiping my eyes. I open the door, and Henry rushes in. "I just heard that Dick had moved out because he didn't like living with a fag."

"Look around it's like he never existed," I say.

"Good...fuck him."

"WHo called me a fag?"

"No one but Tony...Tom just told me what happened when he saw Tony moving out.....he warned him that he couldn't get caught up in the fagot shit."

"So Tom called me a fag?"

"No it wasn't like that....he told me what Tony said....tried to get Tom to move in with him."

"What did Tom say.....is his stuff still in your guy's room?"

"Tom's not going anywhere," Henry says as he hugs me. "I'm staying with you tonight."

"No...I just really want to be alone...I'm good...exhausted from everything...please I want to be alone," I beg. I don't want Henry over here...I want to cry in peace.

"I'm next door.....everything is going to be alright....ok? DOn't let this break you...us."I push Henry out the door double locking.

I broke something else. Maybe I can go home with Uncle Peter and just forget about this little break from hell. I plan on how to break up with Henry in the morning. He may not come back or ever want to talk to me. I've destroyed his life because of my stupidity. I was beginning to believe you were the one. I place my headphones on and push play without caring what is in the deck. I want to disappear....I want to die. I must have cried myself to sleep.

It's still slightly dark outside, and I'm awakened by knocking on the door. I hope it's Henry and not someone coming to drag me out. "Hey," Henry says with a smile. It doesn't make me happy. "We need to talk."

"Yeah I know...come in," I say as Henry hands me a Diet Coke.

"Well that white trash tramp that Tony dates is the cause of all this....he told her he needed to get away from you or everyone was going to think he was gay."

"I don't care whose fault it is.....this is what happens.....I'm sorry for taking you down.....I....know this is it so...."

"What?...this ain't shit and you're not....we aren't doing anything but be together......OK...it's real simple," Henry almost yelling.

"That's not how these things work...pretty soon you will get hassled....and the oddball ME will get the blame....and...."

"FUCK NO! That's not how this is going down.....we you and me are together...I GOT IT!" Henry still shouting.

"Henry....I'm going to talk to my uncle and see if I can just leave.......this place isn't right for me.....you wouldn't understand...you haven't lived the life I have."

"I don't know what happened to you because you've never told me....and I'm not sure I need to need know....you to trust me, and I thought you were....I thought we trusted each other......please don't say anything to your uncle...stay here with me.....please," he's coming towards me...I can't move.

"You want to hear a story so you can understand what happens to boys like me?" I say.

"Only if you want to tell it," Henry sits.

"There was never a time when I did not know John. John was loved, and he shared his love. I did my best surviving on what little love existed in my home. We were rough and tough. He was a real brother in every way. Out in the land between our yards in our eleventh summer as the sky turned black and the bats flew about John kissed me. He told me someday we were going to get married...he said his mom told him he should marry his best friend and I was his best friend. I knew it was silly, but for some reason, I didn't think it as childish.

I knew what I was before I knew the name or understood what it meant. Whether John did, I can't say. I never felt out of place because I was with him even when he wasn't in a physical form. On the night of my 13th birthday, we crossed a physical line. For the first time, we touched each other. Now we had talked about sex and beat our little dicks lying beside each other but for some reason never took it to the physical. This was a John plan. This was my birthday gift. No one could imagine much less believe such wholesomeness hid the perverse.

John's mother died, and her brother Nathan came to stay and help out. He took over Johns life, and I began to see him less and less. Underneath our shared tree house that stood between John and my house Nathan told me I was disgusting. He came outside walking to me and informed me John was reclaiming himself. I didn't understand what that meant. Soon I'd learn that it included humiliating me and denying everything about our past.

These are the incidents as I remember them. I'm not saying they are completely true Henry and there could be another take on what happened. My emotions are wrapped up in every action John took. This is my memory trying to figure and make sense of it all.

It was a fall Wednesday every class break the halls seemed especially loud, and we all lingered a little longer after the last bell. Someone said John quit football and asked me what happened. My head filled with a roar. People were talking to me, but I couldn't hear. I found John with his head in his locker. I asked him if her quite and he told me to go away. I reached out to grab his shoulder, and he turned and punched me....nothing too hard just enough to get my attention. I tell him to get his head out of his ass. I'm hit in the face. This time it's hard. When his fist connects with my nose something breaks. He pushes me, and I go down. He yells I a leech and a degenerate and he called me a faggot.

All the air was knocked out of me not by a fist or my ass hitting the floor but by what was said to me. He said he was done with me and sick fagot stuff. It was now that he pulled and enveloped out of his locking throwing the contents our notes to each other all over the floor. It was at this time I realized we had an audience and they began to scramble for the notes. Standing over me John spits on me. He called me fagot one last time. This is my last memory of John. The last words he spoke to me. The last time I would see him.....so now you know why this doesn't work....not for people like me.

I'm crying as I finish...Henry tries to hug me, but I'm not having any of it. He pushes my arms away and wraps his around me tight. "I'm never letting you go.....if you leave I'm going with you," Henry whispers.

I try to push him away, but I'm too tired. "I have to go to breakfast," I say.

Henry takes his time letting me go. "Alan....I'm sorry that you were hurt, but this is not the same......this is some stupid big mouth towny who is probably so possessive of Tony he can't shit without her permission......don't say anything to your uncle....please I can fix this I promise....give me a couple of days....please."

"I can't promise that...let me go," I say meaning right now and forever.

Henry waits as I get dressed and walks me as far as the front door of the dorm. We've spent almost three hours talking...me explaining the how's and why's of what we are. I head up the drive to the Grange's a trip I'm made a hundred times. Pat and Uncle Peter are on the back porch drinking coffee. I psych myself up and put on a happy face.

"Hello there young sir," Uncle Peter says.

"Hello old men," I reply forcing a smile.

"Good morning," Pat replies."Great work I can't remember if I told you that yesterday or not."

"Thank you...Mary was great help....I need to thank her."

"I think you did yesterday when she caught you smiling at the show," Pat says.

"Are we going to breakfast?" I ask.

"Yes give me a minute, and I'll head down," Peter says.

"I'll see you later Alan have a good breakfast," Pat waves.

Uncle Peter comes down, and we get in his car and drive to this local 24-hour restaurant that has great biscuits and gravy. "So, you and this Alan guy....is it...." He trails off. "I don't mean to butt in...it's just he seems very into you."

"We are close....he's a good friend, but it's getting to be more....do you mind?"

"Why would I mind? I only want you to be healthy and happy....that's all I care about."

I want to believe him...I do. The remainder of the meal is spent with me lying about how good I'm doing. I never mention the previous night's events or anything else that was too emotional. He appeared to be very pleased with me and everything knew that was going on.

Peter never mentioned my family...not that he's not my family but my mom or dad or sister. It's like for two years I haven't heard anything from them or about them. I wonder if I'm being protected from some horrible news. I don't know. I can't say that I hate them, but I'm not sure if I ever loved them...or if they loved me. Did they know what I was before I did and did this make them hate me?

Going back to the Grange's Uncle Peter says he will be heading back soon. "I noticed in your bank account you've only spent a few bucks....you know that money is yours....and there's more of it......buy what you need....spend some on John....I'm so sorry I mean."

"Henry," I respond.

"I'm sorry.....Hey...what about the Holidays? What would you like to do?... I mean anything."

"Can I think about it?"

"Sure....For Thanksgiving and your birthday I've been asked to come to Pat and Mary's I thought I could get us a couple of nice rooms for the weekend....what about that...you can see if Henry can do the holiday with us as well."

"Sure.....sounds fun...I'll ask him," meaning I probably won't. I ask to be let out in front of the FAB. Peter gets out of the car to hug me and tell me again how proud he is of me. I tell him thanks.

"Kid....I hope you know I love you and am so proud of you," he says through the window.

"I know....have a safe drive," I turn and head into the FAB. Heading down the steps, I hear guitar music. I turn the corner and there on the floor sits Henry waiting for me. He looks up and smiles.