literature

A Boy's Day Off - Chapter 2: Waterloo

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“Don’t let them win.”

Nicki’s counsel sounded like something Rudy would have said an hour ago.  Unlike his sister, Maria, Rudy was out and proud about his homosexuality.  This despite parents who abhorred the idea, had sent him to Catholic school to discourage it, and rumbled about reparative therapy camp next summer, for both him and his beloved older sibling, if things “got any worse.”  Despite all those efforts, punitive or otherwise, by his parents, teachers, and church, he’d steadfastly refused to compromise who he was.  

Only because of his recent attraction to a certain unique and very special girl had he appeared to some for a while to be ‘cured.’  The whole idea of curing gay was ridiculous, of course, but the reasons for his interest in Rain were such that he’d just accepted everyone’s misunderstanding in stride rather than dispute the error.  Rain and Rudy’s core group of friends were more important by far than the rest of the world put together.

The world could believe what they wanted to believe.  Rudy could care less.

For the first time, in this very park, the world had made its opinion known to Rudy in a manner he couldn’t just shrug off or joke about.

He didn’t like it.

Not one bit.

A squeeze of his left hand was followed by the disentanglement of fingers and the reassuring grip of his newest friend was withdrawn.  Anxiety caused Rudy’s heart to skip a beat as his reverie was broken and he lifted his face from absently scanning the ground around him to his new companion.

I haven’t even thanked him.

Disquiet now mixed with guilt as Rudy realized that he hadn’t ever addressed his savior directly.  Not once.  At least not in a manner a deaf person could perceive.

“Are you looking for something?” delicate black hands conveyed in an expressive dance; a dance now slowed for Rudy’s benefit compared to the flurry of movement he’d seen shared between the curious child and father.

Only when it was pointed out did Rudy realize he had been looking around as they walked for any obvious sign of his dropped cell phone.  He doubted he’d ever see it again, but it seemed logical in a corner of his mind to at least put in the effort.  Explaining the bruising the left side of his face doubtless now sported would be bad enough.  Having to admit to his Dad about losing his cell phone, and possibly needing to pay for a library book, would be proverbial salt in his very real wound.

Rudy didn’t know the American Sign Language gesture for a phone, so he mimed putting a handset to his ear and talking into it.  Nicki’s brow furrowed for a moment before the light went off and black pupils shone with understanding.  A warm smile followed as the peculiar kid reached back to pull a cell phone sporting teddy bears on its case from the back pocket of the boy style blue jeans which along with white and baby blue tennis shoes and a white t-shirt mostly covered by a thin jacket matching the shoe colors comprised the youth’s clothes.  Accessorizing the outfit were matching post earrings, one in each earlobe, and a dainty silver cross on an exquisitely fine chain which had flipped up over the t-shirt neck hem during their frantic retreat from the site of Rudy’s assault.  

Rudy had given up trying to sex his new friend given all the conflicting messages.

“Noisy, right?” one hand spelled out as the other held up the device.  

Rudy couldn’t help but smile at Nicki’s uncertain look.  He’d already gathered that the youth had been born deaf, or deafness had come so soon after birth that it didn’t matter.  Yet here Rudy was being schooled on the best way to find a cell phone.

“Can I borrow your phone?” Rudy signed back, gesturing with his hands to the phone Nicki held up.  It wasn’t lost on a guilty Rudy that this request comprised his first intelligible words beyond an affirmative to the deaf youth.

His new friend smiled and nodded.  Rudy took the phone in one hand and signed, “Thank you.  For everything,” with the other.

“You’re welcome,” was the grinning response.

Does this kid ever not smile, Rudy wondered as he began navigating the familiar Android menus.  He didn’t snoop, but Rudy was surprised to note that his would be the first phone call the muted Samsung gadget had ever performed.  Doubtless the text messaging app would be filled with activity, but Rudy had no reason to open that feature.

The two had already walked to about where Rudy had discovered the absence of his phone during their sprint through the woods, so he could rule out it being in the direction of the lake.  There was no need to backtrack toward where he could see Father Jim standing in the distance, patiently leaning against a tree while the youths were stationary.

Rudy had noted the priest following them at a distance earlier, but had decided not to protest as long as they were in the remote forested section of the park.  As much as the priest made him uncomfortable for what his Roman Collar represented, the man appeared well-meaning and he was Nicki’s father in the legal sense if not the biological.

Having entered his phone number, Rudy pressed the green call button on the screen and waited.  He was rewarded seconds later by a faint jazzy sound in the distance ahead of them.  His reaction must have given the success away since Nicki began a silly dance of celebration next to him.  The response was infectious and Rudy found himself drawn in as Nicki reached out and grabbed his hands, the still transmitting cell phone now held by both of them as they twirled around until Rudy was dizzy.

“Are you always this goofy?” Rudy asked aloud as he tried to regain his bearings after they separated again, phone still in his hand even though the call had timed out.  It was only because Nicki had been watching him and saw his lips move that his friend could give him a quizzical expression.  Rudy realized his faux pas and followed up with sign.

Nicki shrugged, but the ever present smile warmed.  “Life is too short not to take every chance to celebrate,” was the reply from carefully dancing fingers.

Rudy suspected this wouldn’t be the last time this afternoon that he would wish either his friend could hear or that he himself was more proficient at ASL.  There was so much he wanted to know about this kid, but the bandwidth between them was worse than dial up compared to broadband.  

When no more profound wisdom or outrageous behavior was forthcoming from the little enigma, Rudy indicated the direction of the missing cell phone and the two began walking again.  Moments, and two more acoustic location efforts, later Rudy was reunited with his lost device.  It had flown from his skirt pocket with enough force that it has slipped under the loose leaves which covered the ground below the hibernating deciduous trees above their heads.  They would never have found the thing if not for Nicki’s phone, and Rudy shared as much.

“Thank you!” he signed again as he returned the gadget to his friend.  He then pointed at his own undamaged phone and did his own little dance indicating happiness.  Nicki giggled at Rudy’s antics, which just made Rudy grin harder.  Even the priest trailing them, who had been trying to appear as if he wasn’t snooping on them, was smiling and Rudy couldn’t begrudge the man his amusement.

“Our ice cream is feeling lonely without us,” Nicki signed after Rudy had settled down.  The youth feigned impatience, playing up the tapping foot in a mocking pantomime.

As much as Rudy wanted that sundae, there was one other thing he wanted to check on.  He dreaded going back to the scene of the crime, but he needed to at least try to retrieve the library book he’d abandoned in his flight from his erstwhile rapist.  He didn’t expect to find the novel, or if he did he feared the boys would have destroyed it, but without it he’d have to pay to replace it and having to pay for the honor of being a victim didn’t sit well with him at the moment.

So, instead of letting Nicki guide him in the direction of a nearby strip mall adjoining the park, he reluctantly coaxed the dark hand again holding his in the direction of the tree where he’d been quietly reading Jennifer Boylan’s “She’s Not There” while wearing a skirt and girl’s sweater in an effort to better understand his best friend.

As they approached what had been Rudy’s favorite tree in the park, he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise and his heart started racing.  A furtive backward glance confirmed Father Jim was still there, hanging back but close enough to respond if his tormentors were to try to exact whatever revenge they might feel due them.  As much as the priest, or what his frock represented, disturbed Rudy, having a sympathetic adult nearby went a long ways to permitting Rudy to close the distance to the place where, not even an hour prior, he had nearly been raped and, when discovered to not be the girl his attacker expected, beaten.

He raised a hand to gingerly feel his left cheek, the resulting stinging pain evidence of the reality of the events now confused and muddled in his mind.  He hadn’t realized he was crying, but his touch came back wet on his fingertips.  Though blurry, he could see the undamaged book laying face up on the dry leaves where it had landed when his attacker had tossed it absently aside.

Releasing Nicki’s hand, he stumbled over to the book and just stared at it for what seemed like eternity.  Jenny Boylan’s stomach on the cover mocked him.  What had started as an innocent effort by an avowedly male if gay boy to better understand his transgirl best friend had ended with him being beaten for being a ‘tranny whore’.  

It all seemed so unreal.

An arm around his shoulder vaguely informed him that his body was now kneeling on the ground, his arms tightly hugging the book as his stomach bent over with his face close to the ground.  He was screaming hysterically, but once again it was like it was someone else.  His body racked with sobs, his mind looped the experience struggling to find what he’d done wrong, and his heart ached at his cowardice and humiliation.

Rudy had no idea how long he knelt curled up, but presently he became aware of arms gently but firmly surrounding him.  He’d never been so drained in his life – emotionally, physically or spiritually.  Nights crying against the pillow on his bed in despair at the world’s judgment against his sexuality, not even the recent night where he’d quietly grieved the loss of his first romantic relationship, compared to the torrent of self-loathing he’d released onto the crisp orange and yellow leaves before him.

Who am I kidding, Nicki, he thought to himself despite the tight embrace of his friend.  They’ve won. I didn’t do a damn thing to stand up against them.  How can I possibly face Rain, or even Maria and Chanel, after this?

In his despair, Rudy couldn’t even face Nicki now.  He wanted the Earth to open up and swallow him whole; give him the sweet release of oblivion.  But the hard ground below him wouldn’t oblige.  Instead, he wrested himself out of his friends consoling embrace and bolted from the spot before the youth’s comforting smile, his eyes like two deep pools of reassurance, could steal Rudy’s hatred from him.  Without a look back and trailing tears, he fled alone from his Waterloo.

Some wounds are visible.  Some, not so much...

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PrincessAshley91's avatar
Ouch, poor Rudy. Those bullies really got to him. Sometimes you just need to be alone to cry it out