T.J. Klune - Bear, Otter, and the Kid 1 - Bear, Otter, and the Kid (24 page)

I scowl at him, not really meaning it. “I could tell you the same thing about
me
. That doesnt stop you from doing it anyways.”
Otter shakes his head. “I know, I know.” He shrugs. “I cant help it, though.”

He snorts. “Yes, sir. Ill keep that in mind.”
“So,” I say, raising my eyebrows, “are you going to tell me or what?”

He sighs, ever briefly. “That was the first time Ive talked to him since I left,” he says. “Hes called a few times and left a couple of messages, but Ive never called him back. Its not really fair, I guess, but I didnt know what to say to him. Hes—he
was
—a big part of my life. You cant just wipe somebody completely away and think it wont have repercussions.”

He shakes his head, and I grow cold. “Its not like that at all, Bear. You have to
want
to be rid of something like that to be able to do that. I never wanted to brush you away. Not fully. I told myself I did, and God knows I tried, but it didnt happen.

“And Im not saying thats what I want to do to him; I dont. Im not saying that I want to be with him or anything, but when you share as much with a person as weve shared, it almost becomes impossible.”

I keep a straight face, but inside theres a storm brewing over the ocean. Thunder rumbles, and its distant, but the winds are blowing again, and I fear its bringing the storm inland.

“I think I did love him in a certain way,” he says softly, staring off as if remembering some happy memory. “I think I did as best as I could. But when he called, it was almost like talking to a stranger. I couldnt think of what to say, how to act. Then he starts asking me when Im coming home, how much longer Ill be here. He tells me he thought I just needed a little time away, to work through whatever it is I need to work through. And I felt a little sad then, Bear. I say this not to hurt you but because I want to be honest. I felt a little sad because I knew that I would never consider him my home again. It was like a door had shut and was locked, and I dont have the key to open it.” He sighs again and rubs my cheek. “I didnt know how to tell him this, so… I didnt. I told him that I didnt want to talk anymore and that I would call him soon.” He looks away again. “I dont know what Id say if I did,” he mutters, more to himself than to me.

“What do you want to say to him?” I say slowly, the water warm as it washes around my ankles. Im starting to wade out, but I cant stop. The wind picks up and whips briefly through my hair. “What would you say if you could say anything?”

“Honestly?” he asks, and I nod, trying to keep the storm from my eyes. “I would thank him,” he says. “I would thank him for what he has given me over the past couple of years. I would tell him I want nothing more than for him to be happy, like he made me happy. I would tell him that I wish that I could have given him everything he gave me.” He rubs his eyes with his big hand. I kiss his chest and an irrational thought bowls through me, telling me to bite him, to mark him as my own. Ive never met the man we are speaking about, but I hate him. I hate that hes been able to share in a part of Otters life that I never will. I hate him because I drove Otter to him. I hate him because he doesnt sound like somebody who
should
be hated.

“But,” Otter says, “the main thing I would want to tell him is that he shouldnt wait for me anymore. That looking back, I feel like I was just biding my time. That sounds harsh, I know”—(I actually think it sounds perfectly fine)—“but its the truth. He gave me a lot, but it would have never been enough.” He looks thoughtful as he gazes back down at me. “It would never have been enough,” he tells me,” because it would never have been you.”

“Are you sure that I can be?” I ask hoarsely. “Are you sure I can be enough for you?”
He captures my face in his hands, and once again theres only him in the world. His eyes flash, and at least for now, I feel the storm recede. The waters dry and the clouds dissipate, and I think its because of him.
“Whether I knew it completely or not,” he tells me, “you were the one I compared everything to. You will always be enough because its you Ive always wanted. I still dont think that any of this is real, that Ill wake up, and Ill be in San Diego, and it will be back where it was. Where we havent spoken in years, and all I have of you is a picture, and all you have of me is a letter.” His voice becomes soft and thick. “If that happens, if I wake up and none of this is true, I will be on the next flight here to make sure it all becomes real. I will find you. You have to believe me when I say that, Papa Bear.”
“Why, though, Otter? Why do you think that?” I ask him, suddenly needing to be sure, needing him to say it. I know its there, lurking on his lips, and even if I cant say it back, I need to hear him say it, to give me the assurance my heart is aching for. “Ive never done anything to deserve you,” I say, sniffing. “I chased you away, and you still came back.”
He grins, and its the Otter grin. “Why? Why do I think that? Why did I come crawling back, practically begging for forgiveness? I thought you were smarter than that. I thought you knew.”
“Say it!” I cry at him.
He leans in and kisses me, long and deep. I press back, hard and blind. When he pulls away, its only slightly, and his lips are still touching mine. I feel them move when he speaks.
“Oh, Bear. Its always been you. It will always be you. I love you, and thats why it will always be enough.”

I
KNOW
youre probably wondering if I said anything back to him. I didnt, but before you get all angry and are all, like,
Oh my God, Bear, but he was so sweet and cute and vulnerable
, just know that I have my reasons. The clouds might have been gone, and the ocean might have gone back to wherever it came from, but I knew they were still there, somewhere. Trying to reconcile with this complete change that Ive been going through has been more taxing that Id first thought. For days now, Ive wanted nothing more than to sleep either in my bed alone or with him. Even when its with him, Im usually asleep as soon as I hit the pillow. My body is lethargic and my thoughts muddled, but its not so very bad. Hearing him say what he said has brought new understanding to who I am and who I want to be. If someone can care about me that deeply, despite all my faults, despite all my refutations, despite all my
everythings
, then that makes all the storms and all the oceans worth it. I just hope that I can remember this. Its a thought I fall asleep to, and its there when I wake. Its my mantra, and I repeat it so I know that I know he is real.

But do I love him? I dont know. Dont get me wrong: Ive always loved Otter, but not in the way that were talking about now. If I do
love
- love him (God, how lame does that sound?), its in a way that Ive never done before. I think often about how I felt about Anna. I try to compare the feelings, but its just not possible. There are so many differences between the two (aside from the fact that one has a penis) that its like I can never feel the same for Anna as I do for Otter. But I know I could never feel for Otter what Anna and I had. I think back to what Ty said, on that day that we went to Portland to pick up Creed. Its only been weeks, but it seems like years. He said that he thought it was like your stomach was on fire, but in a good way. He said its like you could not go on another day without the person. I had told him I thought it was when all the stupid love songs on the radio started making sense. The only reason I think were both right is because his makes sense, but I found myself singing along to a Celine Dion song on the radio.

And I got it.
So what does it all mean? I wish I knew. I still cant seem to shake the dark senseless jealousy I felt when he was talking about Jonah. I know Otter

is here with me now, and he says hes not going anywhere, but I cant help feeling like his past is not as over as Id like it to be. He said it perfectly when he said you cant just wipe away your history like that, and whether I like it or not, Jonah is a part of Otter. Maybe not a current part but there nonetheless. Otter hasnt given me a reason to doubt him since we started whatever it is were doing. I try to concentrate on that. Sometimes, though, I feel the waves lapping at my feet and hear the rumble of a storm, just off in the distance. It never comes closer, but its always there. I am strangely exhilarated by this whole thing. It feels dangerous and secret and wrong but oh so good. Its like doing something bad but knowing you wont get caught. Its like winning for no reason but to win.

Its like swimming in the ocean with lightning flashing overhead. Ty survived his overnight with flying colors, much to my bemusement. Otter and I picked him up the next day, and Mrs. Herrera told me he was a perfect gentleman, welcome back at their house anytime. She told me that she and her husband were taking Alex on a camping trip as soon as school was out and wanted to invite Ty along. I told her I would think about it. What I was really thinking was that there was no way in hell I would let anyone take him out of town. Both the Kid and Otter chided me the entire way home as my thoughts were evidently splayed across my face, a disdained scowl that I was sure I had smothered.
“Am I really being that unreasonable?” I complained to Otter that night on the phone after Ty had gone to bed. “I think Im doing pretty good here.”
He laughed into the phone. “I think you both need to take baby steps,” he told me. “Im sure that this is just as hard on him as it is on you.”
I wish I could have believed him, but the Kid seemed to be taking leaps and bounds. In those few short days following his foray into normalcy, Ty seemed to realize everything he had been missing. He wasnt clinging like he used to and kept hounding me to let him go on this damn camping trip. I told him that we would see when it got closer, and he would grin happily and then bring it up again an hour later. Its selfish of me to not just say yes, I know, but I cant help but feel that we are being pulled in opposite directions, him with his burgeoning freedom and me with my newfound appreciation for anything and everything Otter. I wonder often now if most parents go through this, watching their charges discover what life has to offer and not being able to stop it. Im not his dad, but Im the closest thing hes got so I think my feelings are justified; at least, this is what I tell myself when I lay awake after all have fallen asleep. He and I both know all too well that this world has teeth and will attack when it seems the most docile.
So there we went: Ty finding himself for the first time in three years, me finding myself for the first time in my life. Those few days we had left before Creed came home were the best and worst of my life. I relished in having Otter all to myself and not having to answer questions. I cringed as I saw Ty skip off to school into throngs of waiting friends. I groaned as Otter found this one place on the inside of my thigh that made me forget my name. I sighed as I got to work and saw that Anna did not come in until after I had left. I worried as Creeds return got closer and closer and nothing would be the same unless I was willing to admit to something that I had been fighting since that night. Over these past days Ive had shuddering orgasms, deep stretches of cavernous despair, and lengths of peace like Ive never known. Experiencing so much so fast is enough to drive a person over the edge.
“So what time will you be back?” I ask Creed now as I watch Otter and Ty play chess at our house. Otter has told me that hes pretty good, but from what I have seen, the vegetarian ecoterrorist-in-training is apparently also Bobby Fischer in disguise. I dont know how he learned; Ive never picked up a chess piece in my life. I watch as he breaks a five-minute stretch of silence by moving a castle thing up a square thing, and Otter groans.
“Probably early,” Creed says in my ear. “I want to get back and never look at vodka ever again. Its the devils drink.”
“What are you doing right now?”
“Shots of vodka. Did you know they make raspberry-flavored?”
I snort.
“Anyways,” he says, “I promise not to go anywhere until I have to go back to school. We can hang out all you want.”
“Great,” I say, trying to keep the waver out of my voice. “That sounds… great.”
Creed laughs. “Why do I get the feeling that you dont mean that? Whats been going on since Ive been gone?”
“Nothing,” I tell him. “Same old, same old. You know how Seafare is.”
“Uh-huh,” he says. “Seriously, Papa Bear. You okay?”
“Im fine,” I say, sweat glistening on my brow. “Never better.”
“If you say so.” He pauses for a moment and then says, “Is Otter there?”
“Uh, yeah. Did you want to talk to him? Hes currently losing to a nineyear-old at chess.” Otter shoots me an evil look.
“Nah,” Creed says. “Ill see him tomorrow.”
“Cool. Have fun with your vodka.”
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey, yourself,” I say back.
He hesitates, and I dont want to know whats going through his head. “Never mind. We can talk when I get back. Later, dude.” He sounds funny. I sweat some more.
“Bye,” I say, making up my mind to tell him everything, but then hes gone.
I look down at my watch as I set down my phone. “Ty, its time for bed.”
He sighs and pushes back from the table. “Thats fine. Otter was getting decimated. I was going to win in the next four moves.”
“I was not getting decimated,” Otter says indignantly. Ty reaches up to the chess set and shows him the next four moves. Otter rolls his eyes. “Is there anything youre not good at?” he asks the Kid.
Ty shrugs. “Not that Ive seen. Im sure theres
something
.”
I laugh quietly as Otter scowls down at the table. Im about to tell the Kid to get his butt in gear when his face scrunches up like it was before he made a move, like it does when hes thinking heavy things. I groan inwardly, not really up to answering Tys questions about why people believe aliens make crop circles when its obviously bored farmers or how to solve world hunger the vegan way. I shake my head and wait. Otter looks at him and then back at me and then sits back in his chair. He knows.
“Derrick?” the Kid finally says.
“Yes, Ty?” I say.
“Can I ask you a question?”
I cant help but smile. “You always do,” I say, teasing him.
“You have to promise not to get mad,” he tells me, which is a first. The Kid has never prefaced any question like that before. Thoughts run through my head, trying to pick out every possible scenario in which he thinks I would be angry with him. Nothing comes to mind, and I have no choice but to promise. He says nothing for a while, as if gauging the truthfulness of my words. He glances casually at Otter and then back at me, and right when he opens his mouth and before he speaks, I know whats going to come out, what hes going to say, and I only have seconds to choose whether to lie or to be honest to one of the only people who thinks what I say matters.
“Is Otter your boyfriend?” he asks.
“What?” I say, stalling for time. Otter suddenly sits up very straight in his chair. His eyes go wide, and he cocks his head at the Kid, as if trying to figure out if hed really heard what Ty had just said. “What?”
“Is Otter your boyfriend?” the Kid repeats.
The blood rushes from my face as I say, “Why do you ask that?” The guilt I feel at not being able to answer his question right then is easily outweighed by the mounting sense of horror I feel. But all of that is eclipsed by the word
boyfriend.
Ive never even thought of it like that. Is that what Otter is to me? My…
boy
friend? Sure, Otter is someone I care about (
Care about?
the voice asks.
Oh, Bear
), but Id never really put that association with what we have. I dont even know what we have. Sure he does things to me that make my head spin, and I sing along with Celine Dion, but that doesnt make him my… make me his… you know. I look to Otter for help, but hes still staring at the Kid, his mouth now hanging open on its hinge.
“Its just something Ive been thinking about the last few days,” Ty said. “I didnt know if I should ask, but then I figured its always better to ask something than to just wonder.” He unscrunches his face and smiles cautiously at me. “Is that okay?”
I dont know what to say.
I should reassure him that of course its okay to ask questions. I should tell him that he can always come to me when he has something on his mind. All these words and more form in my mind but derail and die on their way to my mouth. I think absurdly for a moment about how he hadnt asked me if I was gay like when hed asked if Otter was. Hed not seen to label me in that regard but to ask, in his own way, if Otter was mine and I was his. This races and dances around my skull, and I think again on how I wished Id thought of what Otter was to me.
Then why can’t you answer him?
it asks.
Why are you sitting there silent like it’s all going to go away if you ignore it? It you’re so strangely excited at the thought of him belonging to you, then why can’t you answer the fucking question?
Hes nine years old!
He’s nine years old and has the guts to ask the things that you can never bring yourself to think of in the first place.
“Its okay,” I tell the Kid quietly, and he looks instantly relieved. He hazards a glance back at Otter, who has now focused his attention on me, a look of wonder and naked adoration upon his face. If only he could see how very close the storm has gotten.
“Ty,” Otter says, tearing his gaze from me to concentrate on the Kid. “Bear and I havent really… talked about what we are. This is something that is very new for the both of us.”
“Is that why he and Anna broke up?” the Kid asks him.
Otter shakes his head. “It wasnt just that. There was a lot of grown-up stuff going on between them, stuff that had nothing to do with you or me. Sometimes that happens to people.”
“I know that,” the Kid says smartly. “Some people are just not meant to be together. But that doesnt mean you still cant love them.”
Otter laughs shakily. “Thats true. And Bear and Anna love each other very much, and we love you very much.” He grins quietly. “But hell, Kid. You caught me off guard with that one.”
The Kid looks down at his hands. “Does that mean you love Bear too?”
“Yes,” Otter says without hesitation. “It means I love Bear.”
“So then hes your boyfriend.”
“Ty, he told you we havent talked about that yet,” I say, harsher than I mean to. “This is something for me and Otter to figure out.”
Ty doesnt catch on and doesnt let it drop. “But, Bear,” he tells me, “If Otter loves you and you love him, then why dont you call him your boyfriend?” His eyes narrow. “You do love Otter, dont you?”
“I- I- I-,” I say, finding out how great I am at stuttering.
Otter comes to my rescue yet again: “Like I said, Kid: were still trying to figure things out. This is all very new for Papa Bear, and weve got to let him think things through for himself.”
Ty shakes his head and looks at Otter sadly. “I hope you know,” he tells him, “that just because he cant say it, doesnt mean he doesnt feel it. Hes always been like that and whatever he needs to work out, I hope that you can let him.” I want to rush over to the Kid and scoop him in my arms. I want to bury him in everything I can give because he keeps finding ways to show me he knows me better than I know myself.
“I do know,” Otter says, patting Tys hands. “And I havent forgotten my promise to you. But I think
you
know that.”
Ty nods and gets up from the table and walks around to Otter and lays his head on his shoulder. Otter wraps his big arms around him and pulls him in tight and kisses his head. From where I stand, I can hear the Kid whispering to Otter. He says, “Thank you for taking care of Bear. Hes needed it for a very long time.” He lets go of Otter and turns to face me, walking slowly in my direction.
“I dont care who you are,” he tells me, his voice clear and strong. “I dont care if you love differently than everyone else. It doesnt matter because youre still my brother.” He takes my hand, and I stare down at this little Kid, this person who is wiser than I could ever hope to be. I squeeze his hand hard, and he squeezes mine back, and I know he knows all I cant say. He beckons me down with a finger, and I lean forward, and he whispers in my ear: “Im glad Otter came back. Im glad you were able to find him again. But if its okay with you, Im still going to like girls.” With that, he leaves the kitchen, humming quietly to himself.
I think Ive told you how he is one of the few people in the world that can leave me speechless. But have you ever had all your synapses fire at once and your mind is a literal blank slate? Its not as if you cant speak, because generally, in synaptic-firing situations, a billion things run through your head, and you just cant pick which one to say. Im talking about having no singular thought, no retort, rebuttal, negation, nothing that goes through your mind. Its almost blissful not having anything to say.
Just pure white bliss.