Deacon just watched Kane’s car drive off, feeling both wonderful and at the same time alone. Here on the street, there was only him and his thoughts and the far off stars. He gazed back up at them while trying to understand what Kane had said about being wrong. ‘I’ll have to ask him later, but first.’ He turned on his heels, the entrance to his house looming before him. The youth bit his lip, trying to figure out just what he was going to do. His parents would be inside, dinner was probably ready, and yet he lingered in the yard.
‘I should tell them…’ he thought to himself, ‘they deserve to know, right?’ he rationalized. They were his parents, they loved him, they wanted what was best for him, they would understand, right? They’d forgive him. Right?
And so Deacon hesitated in the yard. He took a deep breath, then another. ‘You’ve got this Galer, you’ve already done it once.’
The psyche up worked well enough to urge the young gator into action, step forward, move past the things that held him back. Which he grimly realized was just himself.
The house smelled of his mother’s delicious pasta sauce. He had fond memories of his mother’s cooking and relished in them as he thumped the door closed with his foot. Years of wonderful memories of the loveliest kind. He remembered standing on chairs to reach the counter to see her magic alchemy in action. He recalled when he was finally coordinated enough to pour ingredients into measuring cups and various bowls. He reminisced about licking utensils and bowls to season dishes to taste. His life made him smile, if just to the ground. And it again helped him make up his mind. ‘I’m going to do this. I don’t know how, but I will.’
The musical clatter of plates and forks sang from the dining room. His parents sat side by side, giving each other the eyes. The kind of cloying puppy love that made Deacon roll his eyes around. But they were his parents, at least they made each other happy. His own bowl of vibrant food was quickly amassed. His mother’s magic touch evident in the colors and scents.
He slipped quietly into his seat across from them, trying to be as small as possible.
“-then Lovett said they're adding a third process loop and two additional stages.”
“I could imagine that Byron was not too happy to hear that.”
“You’d be right, two months of work down the drain. I swear, clients never know what they want.” Sal said, scooping a spoonful to his mouth. Deacon blew across his own spoonful before putting it in his mouth. It tasted bland today. He swallowed without much chewing.
“But you know, keeps us employed, now we can execute a change order and hope-” Sal knocked along the table. “-that they can learn their tails from their horns.”
“But that also means another site visit though.” Clara mentioned a bit disconcertedly.
“Yeah, it does.” Sal said, with the resigned air of a man who just wanted nothing more to sit still.
“When do you leave?”
“Tuesday, maybe Monday?” Clara sighed, Deacon just ate his food.
“Well, at least you’ll be home by Friday.”
“Of course, right D?” At the mention of him, Deacon shifted his attention back to the world.
“Huh? What?” He looked between the two of them, their eyes both gazed in his direction and Deacon felt naught but the great desire to run away.
“Next Friday? Your meet?” His mom said.
“Oh, oh yeah. Friday, right.” It had completely slipped his mind. And now all he could think about was his dropping times. He ate another blasé spoonful and did his best to ignore the two of them, but couldn’t forget that their eyes were still on him. The conversation lapsed as Deacon continued to shovel food from bowl to mouth. Below the table his heel clacked against a table leg.
‘You fucking coward.’
Sal and Clara seemed to share a look, before turning back to their son. Deacon mentally steeled himself.
“Son, is everything okay?”
“I have something I need to say!” Deacon’s energy shocked even himself, even his parents' shocked faces told him that it was a little more forceful than he had intended.
“Of course, D. You can tell us anything.” Clara reached out to grab her son’s hand. Despite being a reptile, her scales were quite smooth. His dad just nodded and leaned on the table, giving the youth his full attention. Deacon was honestly unsure where to go from here. So he decided to stop thinking and just go.
“I’m gay.” And the words were out. They hung in the air like a leaking balloon. When no one else responded, he continued.
“I'm gay, and I only realized it two weeks ago and I've had zero idea how to deal with it so I, I just kinda got angry and then I didn't feel good and lashed out and I've yelled at you both and I've been a jerk and I thought I could handle it on my own but I couldn't and just don't want to hide it anymore so yeah I'm gay!”
‘When did I stand up?’ he asked himself. The room was quiet as he looked from parent to parent. Feeling very exposed. Heartbeat in his ears.
“And I'm dating Kane so..” he said, wanting to get every last secret out there. “And I skipped the second half of school today.”
“Oh, sweetie…” his mom called tenderly as she stood up. Deacon couldn't look at her as she held her arms out to him, but he pressed himself into her embrace. Feeling held together in a way that for as wonderful as Kane was, couldn't compare. “ Sweetie.. it's okay, it's okay. You know we'll love you no matter what. Shhh, shhh, it's okay.” At that, Deacon for another time today started crying.
‘a-fucking-gain!’
“Deacon, sweetie. Look at me.” He did. There were matching tears in her eyes. She looked so happy, and proud, and just so much like.. her. “We love you, whatever happens, whatever you need we're here for you. Right, Sal?” She shot his dad a look, who for better or worse was still sitting in his chair. Looking a bit shell shocked
“Uh, that’s right.” He stood and crossed over to join the hug. His hand rubbing up and down Deacon’s back. “Whatever and whenever, D. We have your back.” The gator could only nod and silently drop a few tears. He was out of words today anyway.
‘Is today over yet?’ he asked the universe.
“I guess you were right about those cookies.” his Dad said after a moment.
“Not the time, Sal.”
“Wait, what?” Deacon asked, immediately curious.
“It's nothing sweetie.” Clara said dismissively. His dad though kept going.
“She thought there was something between the two of you since you baked him cookies.” Clara swatted him.
“Cause of cookies?” Deacon asked his mom. She kinda rolled her eyes.
“It's silly, don’t worry about it.” She said to him with a head shake.
“We met cause of those cookies.”
“Sal!”
“Wait, huh?”
“Oh, yeah. Have we not told you?”
“Uh, no! You haven't!” Deacon wasn't crying anymore, just deeply entertained by the new lore. Clara sighed deeply.
“Look, Deacon, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that you both know that we love you and want you to be happy. You know that, right?”
Deacon the alligator looked between his wonderful mother and his humorous father. Both looked back at him. He chuckled a bit.
“Yeah. I really do.”
……
Kane arrived home. The modest two bedroom townhouse that he shared with his brother on the other side of the tracks. The TV was on and singing out the highlights of some sports game from earlier in the week. It was his first indication that Abel was home.
No lights were on so the colorful images created a mural of vividity on the walls of the living room. His brother Abel sat on their well worn two seat couch.
‘Two cans on the table and one in his hand. That's not too bad today, " the rhino noted. His brother's drinking habits tended to follow his mood from work, three was a light day. And the only reason that Kane even considered joining him on the couch.
He thought of Deacon, his boyfriend, who so desperately seemed to want to come out to people. Kane hadn't bothered, mainly because he had no idea how that conversation would go. There was this… wall between the two of them. A pair who only interacted at a distance.
‘How would I even start?’ He thought. He looked at the TV and thought of his chart, of the lines that spread across the people in his life. ‘A connection.’
“You just gonna keep standing in the doorway like that?” Able called. The sound jerked the rhino out of his stupor.
“Oh, sorry.” He apologized. Coming into the room proper he set his backpack on the one other seat in the room. The squeaky springs of the couch were familiar as he lounged his weight into the seat. The commentators on screen just prattled on about stats and percentages and all those things that they thought could indicate a teams effectiveness. The brothers sat in silence. The wall still clearly there.
“So, uh, how did.. your team do?” Kane asked hesitantly, verbally calling across the invisible barrier.
“Watch this shit.” Kane looked on as a replay of some play in some quarter of some game from some time played. The ball was snapped, the players hustled, and the ball was thrown. All to be dropped by the intended receiver. “Man has open field ahead of him, no coverage, and he fumbles the fucking catch. QB dropped it right into his paws too.” Abel tsked as he took another shot of beer. “Asshole gets paid millions of dollars to drop a football. Ridiculous.”
“Yeah, that kinda sucks.” Kane acknowledged. At least he could understand struggling at seemingly simple tasks. “So they lost?”
“Naw, but they better buck up if they wanna make it in the post season.” Kane nodded, this was going alright. But he had no idea how to turn the conversation over. So he just watched as the lines of yellow were drawn over stills of the field, indications of better options and strategies that are only visible in hindsight. Kane hated commentary like that. It felt so disingenuous, like there was little tolerance for the struggle of being in the moment of having just seconds to make a decision while these suits had hours to form opinions. Or maybe Kane just didn't understand sports.
Abel muted the TV. “What’s up?” He asked.
“Huh, oh nothing.”
“BS, you never talk sports. What's up?” Kane turned to look at Abel. He was only ten years older but looked positively ancient, weary, battle scarred. The bright LCD glow of TV pixels only showed off the deep ridges of age on his leathery skin. Abel continued to stare at the TV, shining frames reflected in his dark eyes.
This was the chance, Abel just dumped the ball in his court as it were. And Kane just needed to not drop it. He swallowed his rising anxiety.
“So, uh, I guess I have a question for you.” The younger rhino started, staring down at his hands and their fraying carpet.
“Mmmhmm.” Abel hummed back. Kane pressed his thumbs together. ‘I can do this. I can do this.’
“What would you say… if I wasn't, you know, straight?” Kane continued to look south, at the ground, unable to turn towards his brother. That wall still looking very tall.
In his peripherals though, he saw his brother turn his way. Regarding him for the first time that night. Seeing him sit there. Trying his best. He turned back to the TV.
“Kane. I don't give a rat’s ass who you wanna play tonsil tennis with.” Kane just gulped and blinked. But it seemed that Abel wasn't done as he pulled something from the pocket of his stained work jeans.
It was his wallet, and as he opened it, Kane saw the old, frayed photo. Four smiling rhinos, both brothers were a lot younger, ten or eleven years younger. Their late parents ageless. Kane turned away. ‘Not the time to process that.’
“But if you're gonna go bump uglies, be smart and cover your stump.” Kane finally saw the foil in his brother's calloused hands. The thin square of foil. Kane could only stare in sort of shock. This certainly wasn't the way he thought this conversation would go. Abel shook the condom closer to his brother, who reluctantly pinched it. With no further conversation Abel turned back to the silent TV leaving Kane with nothing but his own thoughts and a fresh condom.
‘Okay, then. Maybe that went as well as it could.’ He concluded. The springs squeaked as he stood. Gripping the contraceptive as something precious. He grabbed his bag as he sauntered towards his bedroom needing some time alone to think. He got to the end of the wall, just before the hall.
“Kane.” Abel called from the couch.
“Yeah?” Abel was still for a moment, before those eyes turned his way. The dark pools of a tested man who stepped up when he needed to, and didn't regret it one bit.
“You're my brother, and not one goddamn thing’ll get in the way of that. Got me?”
Kane met his brother's stare, for once feeling that they finally saw each other. For who they were and what they were to each other. Without walls.
‘Was there ever a wall in the first place?’ Kane asked himself.
“Thank you, bro.”
“Mmm.” He grunted with a nod, turning back to that colorful and silent TV. With nothing left to say, Kane turned back down the hall.
