Whispers, Pt. 6

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Whispers

Part Six, by Michelle Wilder

If there were nothing else to trouble us,
the fate of the flowers would make us sad.

(This is almost the first story I ever wrote. It's the apple seed from which many grew. Reposted with grammatical revision only.)

-----

Someone was knocking on the door. Not really loud, but not stopping.

After a second I was awake and wiped my face on my sheet and sat up, but I was suddenly afraid to answer.

I sneaked over and stood and listened and then, after a few seconds I got embarrassed and tired and thought I should open it, but I didn’t want to, ‘cause Dennis had a key.

“Bobby?” It was soft.

I shook, but opened the knob, almost crying again at the... I kept one foot tight against the door.

Gary was there. Anne too, behind him, and Jarrod and the Dean guy. I just looked at them.

No Dennis.

Gary looked at me like he did when we were walking, like I should listen.
“Can I come in?”

I looked at the floor and nodded, all dull and slow, and thought they all were gonna come in, but Gary closed the door behind him and sat on Dennis’ desk chair and I sat on my bed.

I looked at the floor and my hands and knees and feet and waited, I guess I almost was too tired. If Dennis had been there... well... he wouldn’t be...

“Can I?”

I looked up and Gary was kinda motioning or pointing to the bed beside me.

I nodded. I didn’t care, and that was a really bad feeling. I looked over at Dennis’ empty bed.

Gary sat right beside me, right up against me, and put his arm around me and pulled me really close and then he leaned his head over on top of mine and put his other arm around me in a sideways hug.

All the stuff from that morning... all the... drama, Anne had said... all the feelings and pain, and feeling like everything was falling apart and then was going to be wonderful... and then...

-

Gary whispered after a while that he was there.

-

Ellen at the paper heard, at home, about the residence, the doors, and called Gary from her house, and he’d come over and talked to Jarrod, ‘cause he knew he was my proctor, and knew him too, I guess...

And *everyone* was worried about me, and that’s why they were there, Gary said.

He said they were my safe walk.

He said I should see a counselor today, if I could. Even if it wasn’t Ben.

“For what?”

I knew that was the wrong thing to say, right away, but I think I meant to say, why bother...

“Because you aren’t happy, Bobby.”

He hugged my shoulders harder and leaned in so he was whispering.

“You aren’t happy.”

-

He mostly just hugged me. After a while we talked.

I mean, he got me to talk. All the thoughts and feelings, even when they didn't make sense. And he never said anything about them, just listened.

After, after I said about... about some of the worst stuff, he made me promise I would call him or someone if I felt like I wasn’t safe, even from me, and he said it wasn’t okay to want to “leave.” He said that was dangerous and *he* didn’t want me to go.

He made me say “suicide,” too. That that was what I meant. And made me promise to go to see Ben or someone else for counseling first thing on Monday morning. And not to be alone until then.

After about an hour he said he was going to go to the paper and said, “Wait...” and went and made sure Jarrod was in his room and that he’d be there all day, or Anne.

He said Jarrod and Anne were my safe walks too.

-

I was trying to sleep again when the door opened and I almost screamed ‘cause it might've fit in part of a bad dream I was having, or the noise was, and I couldn’t remember it even, right then... But my heart was racing.

Dennis was there. In the doorway.

And a man and woman. The man was looking at me like I was in trouble and I didn’t know what to do. He was Dennis' father and was going to make him leave.

Dennis stepped in the door and kinda stood to the side and looked at me and them. I tried to stay sitting up.

He was there. Back.

“Mmm, Bobby... I'm sorry, I knocked... This is my mother and father. Mom, Dad, Bobby... Johanson.”

He looked at me more, and didn’t smile and I thought it was like judging, or blaming me, and then I remembered he was all mad and... in trouble because of me and was embarrassed and now he blamed me.

I couldn’t think anything good right then, even if he was back. And his father hated me, I could tell.

“Out. Out out out out.”

His mom wasn’t as big as Dennis but she shoved him out and he leaned over to see me through the shutting door, ‘cause I had to look up more to see what was going on, and he still wasn’t smiling.

“Ohhh...” She came over and sat on my bed right where Gary had been and took my hand and looked all over my face.

“Dennis told us all about the graffiti, Bobby. I know what you must feel like...”

She stopped and smiled a bit sadly and looked at my eyes more. She looked a bit like Dennis. She wasn't mad, either.

He hadn't been. At the door. He hadn't...

“Just listen to me. How could I ever know?" She held my hand tighter. "How are you doing?”

Dennis and all, just then, that thought, I nodded.

She looked in my eyes for a minute. I didn't understand what she was doing, or what she wanted, but I was a little less scared from when the door opened. Maybe a lot.

"You don’t have to talk, if you don’t want, and I’ll shut up if you want me to, okay?”

I nodded again. At least it made sense to nod. Talking felt too hard.

“My son is a bit slow at times, but he’s... true... in his heart. He didn’t want to leave you alone and he’s very worried that he did...”

She looked at my hand, I guess, and then at my eyes, and talked really softly.

“He’s very protective of you, you know.” She watched my face turn red, ‘cause I was thinking 'protective'... like Anne said, too. What it meant about me....

And that maybe he didn’t hate me. Or want to leave.

“A lot of people...”

She was speaking a bit oddly, and I looked at her to see. She was asking something. She held my hand a bit closer to her too.

“What?”

She smiled a bit. “Your proctor, Jarrod Milner?”

I nodded.

“He told my husband that if he...” She thought a second. She looked like she was thinking of ways to say whatever she meant.

“Henry is an emotional man. And he's very protective of *me* and... of Dennis as well.”

I thought about what she could mean by protective of Dennis. Not good thoughts.

“He wanted our son to move out, out of residence altogether.”

I know I looked strange. I was starting to panic, and all I could think was that Dennis *was* going, it was true, she'd said exactly what I thought, it was going to happen, and even if it was a different reason or way... but the same, and he’d be gone.

“But your Mr. Milner, and Mr. Haroldson and a woman, Mrs. Harbison I think, convinced him that Dennis was perfectly safe with you.”

She smiled at my face. I know ‘cause she touched it too and almost laughed.

“It’s okay, dear. I trust you not to ravish my boy.” She smiled more normally again. She squeezed at the same time, to mean about me, I guess.

Then she looked serious at my eyes.

“I know my boy hasn’t told you this, but I think you should hear it.”

I nodded a tiny bit. I was listening as hard as I could.

“Dennis and Mr. Milner talked for a long time this week about your problems, about... what Dennis told me...” She looked right in my eyes.

“He said you were becoming more and more afraid of going out? Of leaving this room?”

I felt like dirt. Then she hugged me closer with one arm.

“Dear, don’t be like that? He said people were treating you badly, and staring at you, and he understood but he was afraid to talk to you about it more than you wanted, that he might make you feel worse.”

She looked all over my face and in my eyes and was trying to get me to look at her more, I think.

I was trying not to cry. That’s all. He thought... I didn’t know.

“He said he thought he would die if people treated him the way they were treating you, and you still went to class and... out.”

I looked up then. What? She smiled a little again.

“He thinks you’re very brave. And strong.” She smiled more at my face. “And he wants to help you, if he can, if you’ll let him, and he wants to keep people from hurting you.”

She stopped smiling, but she tried. Her lips were shaking.

“He cried, on the phone, this morning.” Tears were in her eyes.

“He was scared by the writing on the windows and thinks you might hurt yourself now and he’s very afraid for you, and doesn’t know how to help.”

I started to cry and forgot to be afraid she’d see. He was afraid? He cried to her?

“I... I didn’t!” I tried to say ‘mean it.’ But I did.

She pulled me over and hugged me hard.

“I know, I know...” She waited a moment and kept talking, quieter.

“Dennis liked you from the beginning, very much." She sat up and smiled at my face again. "He promised your parents and your friend from high school that he’d take care of you. Now he's worried he can't.”

I just... felt... shocked. My..? What did Mom and Dad, and... Barry... say?

“You didn’t know that, did you? Did you know that when Dennis applied for residence he said that he’d be fine with a gay roommate?”

I looked freaked, I’m sure. She smiled more, the same, and kept on.

“And did you know that your Mr. Milner and Mr. Haroldson both came here to talk to him about you before you moved in, and he said he would like you as his roommate..?” She smiled.

“Even tough you weren’t gay?”

I was trying to breathe. I couldn’t understand her. It didn’t make any sense. If they knew... but she said they didn't think... what did Mr. Haroldson know about me at all? And before!?

She kept talking and I was sure I was missing some of it.

“He told us... *they* told us some of this only an hour or so ago and my husband is *not* happy.”

She grinned, and then kinda switched to a kind of story-telling.

“Dennis’ best friend is gay. Did he tell you about him? Well, Henry was never happy with *that* either, even though they grew up together.” She really grinned.

“They went to some dances together that almost gave him a coronary, and last spring Justin *escorted* Dennis to the senior prom and if you ever tell my husband that, I will deny any knowledge of it!”

She was grinning like a clown by then and I was doing an idiot imitation.

She smiled more normally after a minute and touched my face again.

“My boy isn’t gay, or isn't sexually active that way, anyway, but he thinks being gay is just fine and finding out his best friend was just made him worry about how high school would be harder for him, and so he helped...” She shone, she smiled so nice.

“I’m *very* proud of him.”

I was crying again. I was barely able to keep from bawling and she held me again.

“Dennis loves his friends, dear." She hugged me tighter.

"And even after so few weeks, he loves you. He thinks you’re *very* special.”

She waited ‘til I could hear better, but kept holding me. I tried, but I clutched at her.

“Mr. Milner told my husband that he’d call the campus police if he scared you.” She squeezed me really tight for a second and then sat away a little.

“And my son told him he wouldn’t ever visit home again either, so there!”

She sat me up, again, and smiled like everything was really right when I had to smile at that.

“Did I tell you how proud I was of Dennis?”

I couldn’t remember, but I nodded agai. She didn't have to say. I couldn’t talk, anyway.

“Dear?” She waited ‘til I could nod again again.

“I think you should call your parents.”

I looked bad, I guess, ‘cause she hugged me, again.

“When you can, dear, but you need to tell them how you’re doing, and they’re your parents, and parents really know more than you might think...” She pulled back and looked in my eyes and smiled really sadly.

“They love you very much, too, you know.” She said it like it was so sure.

But I wasn’t. I was really afraid of what they'd feel about me.

She made me promise to at least call them, and hugged me really hard, like a shake on a deal.

“It’ll be all right...”

-

Dennis came in after a while and sat beside us and said no, he wasn’t going home and it was okay. He was okay.

He was answering his mom, not me. She just fed him the questions.

He told me he’d talked with Barry and Carol and my parents when they came and said he would watch out for me and Barry said he'd pound him if he didn’t.

He smiled too, and I think he liked Barry. Barry’s really nice.

-

His father stayed outside, or away, and Dennis said he was scared, that’s all.

His mom stayed with us ‘til they had to drive home, just before suppertime, and invited me to their house the next time I could go.

She hugged me really tight and whispered it’d all be okay. That everything would be fine.

Dennis hugged her for a whole minute.

-

After they left Dennis sat on his bed and sighed like he was exhausted, or didn’t know what to do. Then he smiled at me.

He came over to my bed and hugged me just like his mom did. But harder, and warmer.

“It will be alright. Really.”

I was stiff at first, and he hugged me ‘til I was warm and softer and he even laughed a tiny bit, and then started talking really quiet.

“I have a friend who needed hugs just like this one, sometimes, you know. And he didn't think he deserved them...” I could tell he was looking down at me.

“He’s way bigger than you, bigger than me, but he got scared too.”

I whispered, “Justin?”

He looked down at me, but he wasn’t mad.

“Mom told you about him?”

I nodded. I didn’t know if it was okay then.

“Well, I never told you, but he’s gay...” He snorted.

“Did she tell you we used to kinda date?” He really smiled in his voice. I nodded a bit and he hugged me even closer and talked over me again.

“All the kids in school just freaked ‘cause I had a steady girlfriend and sometimes she’d come too, and we’d all hold hands or something.” He grinned really big.

“He needed to feel like he was normal... And then when he did, he was the only out guy in our whole school and he’s my best friend, and...” He stopped.

He just held me, and I could tell he was thinking.

“Justin means... he’s my family?” He looked at me like he really wanted me to get what he was saying.

“He was my best friend when we were little, and all through school, and we did everything together. He thought I’d hate him, or stop being his friend after he told me he was gay, after... when he told me.”

I nodded. I knew he didn’t.

“But I was really shocked, or surprised... I don’t have the word for it, but I can see how he thought... I mean, that I...”

He stopped and hugged me back in, and this time I hugged a bit too. He was shaking a little.

“I can't even say it. He thought he’d be alone and, and have to go to school alone, and have no friends, ever again, for telling me.”

He squeezed me really, really tight and then let me go and sat up more and looked at me. He kept my arm and held it in both hands.

“And all I could do was sit there when he told me.” He looked down at his hands and slid them to my hand.

“I just sat there... for so long, he left...”

He sat there and thought.

“He... I was his best friend, or he wouldn’t have told me.”

He was crying?

“It took me a long time to even understand what he meant, being gay, really, like not just a joke or, or sex... what he meant... An’ then I thought what he had to go through to tell me, ‘cause I might've been... might have been like he thought... and then I got mad that he would think that... and it took a long time for me to stop being mad at him, and then mad at myself, ‘til Mom told me I was being stupid.”

He stopped crying, or shaking, anyway, and wiped his face. He looked at his hand, like he was surprised.

“He told me the hardest thing, and I just sat there...” He stopped and just looked. “He left after I froze...”

He wiped his face again.

“His mom said, when I finally went over, she said I should go in and I went and sat on his bed, just like this, and I said I was sorry I was mad and I was dumb and I was mad that he thought I would think he... was... I don’t remember what I said, but it was stupid.”

He made a fist, like to stretch, and opened it again. He looked at me, and really close, and took both my hands with his.

“He laughed later, I mean like for days, weeks, and said it was the same afternoon, even before supper, the same day, after school. Like, an hour.” He looked down again, for a second.

“But I wasn’t his best friend then, ‘cause I was mad and stupid and... wasn’t.... And he said we’d fought before, too, and it was the same, but it wasn’t the same.” He was really still.

I wanted to say something but he was still talking.

“He coulda killed himself.” He blinked, slow.

“I never saw him as scared as when he told me... or even after...” He looked at me again, and was red some places and pale in others, all blotchy, and tried to talk slow.

“If you *ever* feel like that, *EVER* feel like hurting yourself? Please get me? Please?” He looked right in my eyes, almost crying again, too.

I nodded. I’d hurt myself, sometimes. Bad.

He nodded too, and really squeezed me.

“I know you’re not gay, but it’s the same, okay? I mean about me? Okay? And I need you to be there for me too, okay? And I want you to meet Justin sometime too, okay? He’s really a great guy and he’s a bit scary but once you get to know him you won’t be and besides, he only hits me.” He laughed a bit, kinda sad-happy. “He says it’s my job.”

He was talking fast and kinda just talking. “He doesn’t really hit me...”

I was almost frozen. I mean, not like frozen, but I was thinking so hard that I was never more inside myself than then. Right that second.

About what Dennis was saying, and his mom, and Gary and Anne and Jarrod. And the door. And the Dean. And my Mom and Dad. And Barry and even Carol.

When I came back up I leaned in and hugged him and he hugged me back and rubbed my back.

After a long time I breathed. I had to think. Instead, all I had were feelings.

I’d never felt more scared. Or safe.

----

End of Part Six

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Comments

INTRIGUING !!

ALISON

What a beautiful,intriguing story this is------Michelle,
thank you!

ALISON

I can't tell?

Are things getting better or worse?

Bobby has one hell of a support group, if only he can see that and begin to trust them.

He has obviously had some major trauma in his life, can he let it go is the question?

An interesting dilema Michelle.

Thank you.

LoL
Rita

Age is an issue of mind over matter.
If you don't mind, it doesn't matter!
(Mark Twain)

LoL
Rita

Whispers, Pt. 6

This is starting to sound like your story 'Little Pink Pills'. Did you use this as a template for 'Little Pink Pills'?

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Template?

No, Stan,
Not exactly a template, but it *is* the earliest thing I wrote, decades before LPPs ... I think a lot of the same themes were there.
Thanks,
Michelle

Confession Progression

terrynaut's picture

In spite of the ups and downs, I'd say that Bobby is progressing, slowly but nicely. He didn't really confess though. Dennis said he knew about Bobby. At least I think that's right.

The fear in this story is very real for me. I think you captured it fairly well. I still remember the first time I told someone that I was transgendered. I told a young woman acquaintance because I thought she could handle it better. I wanted a better chance at having a good reaction. Luckily, she was cool about it, and we're friends on Facebook.

Anyway, I hope Bobby and Dennis can remain friends. Dennis sounds like a very rare individual.

- Terry

Voiceless

Been there, done that. Mind swirling, whirling, percolating, unable to speak, frozen on the spot. Fear? Indecision about what to say, or something more profound? Emotions that have no words to express them?

Michelle, you're the only one I've seen capture that feeling, that moment, so powerfully. It bring things... back. Yet, I can't remember why, or what happened just before I felt that way, or what happened after. All I can see is what's happening to Bobby.

And yet, I'm not sure why. Why is Bobby so fearful? We can't see him from outside, this narrative gives us no objective view. Just like real life -- we only see what we can see, not how others see us.

___________________
If a picture is worth 1000 words, this is at least part of my story.

This Chapter Hit Me Harder...

...than anything I've read here (or elsewhere) in months. Not sure what else to say.

Eric

"Instead, all I had were feelings."

Dang, I get like that all the time. The emotions and feelings get overwhelming and I have no words. I've had people get mad at me when I can't say what is bothering me, and that increases the feelings and pushes away the words even more. Ugg.