The Light Behind His Eyes (Frerard)

The past week and a half has consisted of me and Gerard planning our trip to New Jersey, from what motels we’ll be expected to stop at along the way, and so on. We then spent a couple of nights getting everything packed up. Based on how far our final destination is from us, we’re gonna be making a lot of stops…which means it’s gonna be a long-ass road trip (and a lot of money spent on gas for the rental car we’ll be picking up soon, amongst other things like food and hotel fare). Apparently Gerard has hidden away a large sum of cash from all his previous years spent out on the streets snatching wallets from irresponsible and unsuspecting townspeople, and saved it up over a long period of time, every last cent of it all just for this big experience for the both of us, especially himself. He also managed to get his hands on a fake ID and stolen credit card, all thanks to the deep web, something I wouldn’t want to touch with a hundred foot pole, knowing all the messed up shit on there. I just don’t know how Gerard is so capable of all this risky business. He’s got some serious guts to pull off stuff like that.
It wasn’t long before Ray and Mikey caught wind of what we were doing, so we fibbed to them, saying that we’re going on a road trip to visit my family, rather than heading out to fucking kill someone. I wasn’t the one that came up with that lie, it was Gerard. I don’t think I would have been able to come up with a more convincing lie than he did, because just the mere mentioning of my mom and dad still doesn’t sit well with me. Would I ever bother to go back to see them again, after all they’ve done to me? Some would say hell no right off the bat if they were in my position, but there’s something unknown to me that’s preventing me from saying that. I never really took the time to think what exactly it is; I’ve been too busy helping Gerard get ready for our trip.
On the morning we were supposed to head out, Gerard woke me up hella early with a serving of pancakes and hot coffee. I was easily able to tell by the amount of effort Gerard put into cooking breakfast for us, as well as how well-dressed he looked in his white shirt and black tie and pants that he was indeed in a very pleasant mood. He was walking around the house nearly jumping with joy as he did some last-minute packing up. I know I should be just as happy seeing Gerard in such good spirits, but it’s the reason that’s got him all worked up that’s pretty unsettling for me. Gerard’s treating this whole thing as a Hawaiian vacation while I’m still nearly scared outta my damn mind. We are sure as hell not going on any getaway vacation or a family get-together; we’re going out to literally kill someone, and I must say, I am still not prepared…at least, mentally I’m not.
“Taxi’s here, Frankie. You ready?” Gerard called from upstairs.
“Yeah, I’ll be up in a few. Let me just make sure I’ve got everything,”
“Alright. I’ll start loading up the trunk,”
After doing a final check through my bag to make sure I have all my things, especially my toothbrush and some clean clothes, I headed upstairs with my one and only bag, compared to the three or four big and heavy ones that Gerard decided to take with him. I’m almost convinced he’s taking his whole damn wardrobe with him. Seriously, did he pack nothing but rocks in those damn bags or what?
“See you later, guys!” Ray waved, smiling brightly as he walked past me down the hall. “When will you guys be back?”
“We won’t be gone for long. Only a few days. We should be back by Wednesday afternoon, if not sooner than that,”
“Alrighty then. Have fun! You guys be safe, okay?”
“Thanks, Ray. Will do-“
“Frank?”
I nearly jumped when I heard someone behind me call my name and tap my shoulder. It’s Mikey, standing near the front door and blocking my path. I can tell by the concerned look on his face that something’s up, and it definitely has something to do with his brother, who’s now waiting patiently for me in the back seat of the cab.
“Oh, hey Mikes. What’s up?”
“Frank…I hate to be a bother, but…I really need to ask you something,”
“What’s that?”
“Are you...like, really sure this is a good idea? Gerard’s really never done this kind of thing, you know,”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you mean ‘what do you mean’, Frank?” he scoffed, looking at me like I was speaking some foreign language to him that’s beyond his knowledge. “This whole vacation thing is way more than just a walk through Juarez Park for him. He’s obviously gonna be away from the house for a long time, and you how much he’s…well, secluded himself, right? Are you sure he’s prepared for this?”
“I think so. He seems really excited about it, actually. He should be fine, just as long as I’m around,”
“Alright then, if you say so, but…” he paused, flashing me that same deeply concerned look, so much that it’s like he’s outright scared for my life. “Can you really say that for yourself, knowing how he is?”
That actually is a question really worth considering. Mikey does have a good point there. Gerard’s never been so far away from the house in...well, ever. Why would he all of a sudden freak out being in the outside world, knowing that this whole “trip” thing was his idea? Surely he would have gained up enough courage to step outside and be away for a long time if he really wanted to do this. Maybe that’s not what Mikey is really worried about, but more like the fact that I would pretty much be alone with Gerard, a man that’s (let’s be honest here) not all that well in the head, out and far away from our home here in New York. I would be driving with this man, as well as sleeping with him in various motel rooms, and most of all, killing a certain individual with him. Of course, Mikey doesn’t know about that last bit, but he still is well aware of the fact that leaving the state with Gerard is a pretty risky, and maybe even foolish thing to do.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I finally said. “Don’t worry, Mikey. I’ll keep him safe...or, the both of us, actually. I’ll be sure to keep him in check,”
Mikey stayed silent for what seemed like far too long, until he shut his eyes and slowly nodded his head, taking in my words of reassurance. I don’t think he looks fully convinced, but it’s not like he can fight it. Gerard is waiting for me. I have to get going soon before both the cab driver and Gerard lose their patience, whichever comes first.
“Alright,” he nearly whispered. “Be safe, then. But please, for the love of fuck...keep me updated. I’ll be texting you to check in with you guys. And god forbid, if anything happens...please let me know asap, okay?”
“I will,” I headed past Mikey and straight for the front door, knowing that Gerard can only wait so long until he begins to think something’s up. “See you later, Mikes,”
“Please be careful,” he replied, before I nearly dashed out the door and into the backseat of the taxi with Gerard. I swear I can still feel Mikey’s hard and serious hazel-eyed gaze still on me through the front window of the house, peeking right at me from behind the curtains.
“You alright, baby?” Gerard inched closer to me in his seat, brushing his hand over my reddening cheeks and pushing away my black bangs from my face.
“Yeah, sorry about that. Just a little nervous, that’s all,” I smiled uneasily, saying only half the truth of why I’m such an anxious mess.
“I know. Me too, sugar pop,” he said, leaving a brief peck on my gradually reddening cheeks.
“Alright folks,” the cab driver, a heavyset dark-skinned man with an Indian accent that’s thicker than honey, turned to us. “Where to?”
“Take us to the Enterprise car rental center right off Queens street, the one right next to the laundromat,” Gerard replied.
Holy shit. It’s Gerard’s first time speaking to someone that’s not me, Mikey, Ray, or Bob (or even the voices he hears in his head), and he didn’t freak out. Maybe Gerard was right. Perhaps he really is ready to further step outta his comfort zone, away from the world in his basement he’s lived in for so long. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was ready to go through with this, I guess. He’s just been so full of surprises lately, many of them good...let’s just hope it stays that way, though I know in the back of mind it won’t, unfortunately.
“Right away,” the cab driver said, punching in the address of our first destination in his GPS, followed by pulling out of the driveway and on to the street leading out of the neighborhood.
As we pulled out into the main roads and into traffic, it just suddenly hit me, like an oncoming freight train colliding into me. This is it. Our journey has begun. We’re on our way to hunt down Irvine, one of the people that’s on the top of Gerard’s kill list. Holy fucking shit, I am shaking. I can feel it. I’m sweating, too. I can hardly breathe. I am literally steps away from gasping for air. Oh my god, what the hell is wrong with me-
“Baby,” Gerard soothingly whispered into my ear, taking my jittery hand into his gentle one. “It’s alright, Frankie. I’m here,”
_ _ _
I still had to regain myself when we got the the Enterprise. I sat down my pathetic, anxiety-stricken ass on one of the withering, uncomfortable chairs in the main lobby while Gerard spoke with the man at the front desk to pick up our rental car. I closed my eyes and began to breathe; not like the frantic huffs that have been escaping from my mouth for the past god knows how long, but actual slow, deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself down. As I meditated, I felt Gerard’s finger tap me on the shoulder, interrupting me and making me jump a little. It’s okay, though. It’s just him. Seeing his face is always so reassuring for me...at least, most of the time.
“You alright, Frankie?” he asked, the car keys of our rental vehicle dangling from his fingers.
“Yeah, sorry about that...just tired,” I fibbed, to which Gerard didn’t buy at all, based off the unconvinced smirk on his face.
“If you say so. C’mon, let’s go get our car,”
I followed Gerard with all our luggage to the car garage outside of the main building, stopping at a black 2003 Honda Civic in the midst of the many other cars, trucks, and SUVs amongst us in the large vicinity. Before Gerard could unlock our car with the key fob, he suddenly glanced up at me, looking like he wants to say something, but just can’t put his words together.
“Uh, Frank…,” he said hesitantly. “Do, ah...do you drive?”
“Who, me? Yeah, of course. Why?”
“Oh, good...oh, no--I-I mean...okay,” he stuttered, his mouth clumsily stumbling over his own sentence.
“What’s the matter, Gerard? You don’t drive?”
“No, I do,” Gerard nodded defensively. “Don’t worry, I do drive, but...I was just wondering if you wanted to drive first, then I will when we make a stop or something, like at a gas station or a rest stop, you know?”
“Umm, sure?” I cocked my head to the side. “I don’t mind, just as long as you give me directions from the map,”
“Alright, cool beans. You should be alright for a while. Once we pull outta here you’ll stay on the same road for the next ten twenty or so miles til we hit the highway off Main street. I’ll let you know when to turn and stuff,” Gerard said, handing me the keys. “I feel much more comfortable with you driving right now instead of me. It’s been too long since I’ve last driven,”
“That’s alright,” I lied, hoping to god that Gerard doesn't get us into an accident when he eventually does take the wheel. I turned on the ignition and started up the engine, driving ourselves out of the car garage and back out on the main roads. I must say that I am still shaking and on edge, the anxiety still getting the better of me. I can only hope that that doesn’t lead to us ending up both in the hospital instead of whichever motel we’re supposed to stop at for the night. In an attempt to distract myself from the immense perturbation I was feeling, I turned on the radio, which played some indie-rock station, but I have no idea what song is playing, or even who the artist is. Meanwhile, Gerard gazed in awe out the window, taking in the outside environment he’s shunned himself from for years. It isn’t much of a pleasant view, really. After all, we are driving through the armpit of New York City, where I’ve spent the last god knows how many years living in alleyways, using cardboard boxes and newspapers as a bed. None of that matters to Gerard, though. He still looks so swept off his feet, despite the outdoor view being nothing but graffiti-covered walls and trash-littered roads, amongst other things that make up a typical ghetto. I think that Gerard just really has a thing for taking in the world around him, foreign to the one he’s confined himself to in his basement.
“Kittens!” he exclaimed joyously, pointing to a giant billboard advertising cat food when we drove past it. The big sign, of course, depicts a bunch of cats, surrounding the bag of advertised cat food, with the phrase “so kittylicious!” written under it. “Oh my god they’re all so precious, Frankie! They’re so cute!”
“Yeah, sure,” I laughed, highly doubting I’ll ever meet anyone that gets so excited over billboards as much as Gerard. He’s just so easily impressed that it’s kinda cute to see. It’s not even some exciting-looking movie poster he’s getting all jolly over. It’s fucking cat food, for christ’s sake! “You are really are a weirdo, Gee. But in a good way, y’know?” I continued, pulling up to a stop at a red light.
“I know, Frankie. I am fucking weird, I know that-” Gerard’s voice came to a halting silence, all the liveliness and joy disappearing right before my eyes. In fact, he looks anything but happy now. He looks horrified, actually. It’s like someone just slapped him clean across the face, leaving him in a mute state of utter devastation. “O-oh…,” he uttered under his breath, seeming to sink into his seat, looking so forlorn and defeated still staring out the window.
“Gerard? What’s wrong?” I turned to him, hoping and praying I don’t have to pull over, god forbid he has another one of his dreaded episodes. The worst that can happen is just that while I’m driving. Of course, Gerard didn’t say anything, of fucking course. He just kept his eyes glued out the window, gazing out at the cemetery just across from us. What happened to him to make his mood change so dramatically? Did he see something that-
Oh...that must be it…
Fuck me. It’s the cemetery that’s snatched away that smile from his face and the life from his eyes. He saw it and was greeted with more bad memories, probably of all the loved ones he’s lost right in front of his own eyes. Both his parents and his grandmother are all in a place like that, buried six feet under the ground with their names marked on their flower-adorned graves. Goddamnit, I should’ve known. How the hell did I miss that? Good lord, Frank. You’re a real dumbass. We’re still at the fucking stop light, no thanks to the heavy traffic, and that of course doesn't help the situation we’re now in, especially Gerard. It’s just like pouring salt on an open wound, that wound being the graveyard reminding Gerard of his immense grief and longing for his late mom, dad, and Elena.
“Gerard...I’m really sorry,” I said from the bottom of my heart, feeling half-tempted to let go of the wheel and take Gerard into a loving hug. I can’t, though. I need to drive, and like I’ve said before, a car accident is one of the last things that needs to happen to us. “I really am. I know you miss them a lot,”
“You’re right. I really do…,” Gerard replied sullenly, his lackluster eyes still not breaking contact from the graveyard. When the red light finally changed to a green one after a painstakingly long time, Gerard looked back up at me. “Frankie...there’s something I need to ask you,”
“What?”
“After we get to the motel...there’s something I wanna do...if we have the time, that is...and if you don’t mind…,”
“What’s that?”
“I wanna…v-visit th-them…,”
“Who?” I furrowed my brow. “Who do you wanna visit?”
“I wanna see…,” he paused, his mouth stumbling over the words he just can’t seem to say without being reminded of those certain bad memories from that horrid day nearly twenty years ago. “D-daddy and m-mama...and-and Elena,”
“What do you mean?” I asked, feeling bad for not knowing exactly what he’s talking about. How can he see them if they’re...well, gone? “What do you...like, mean by-”
“I know they miss me, being in that damn cemetery for so long,” Gerard interrupted, as if he didn’t just hear out my perplexions. “I wanna...pay them a visit, Frankie,”
Oh...that’s what he meant by “visiting” them. God, now I really feel like shit for being so naive. Damn it, Frank. You were right. You really are a dumbass.
_ _ _
I ended up driving the whole way to the motel, since there was no way in hell I was gonna ever let Gerard take the wheel with the distraught state he was in earlier. He just looked way to depressed and unmotivated to do almost anything. He wouldn’t even leave the car when we dropped by gas stations and rest stops. I’m surprised he finally got up and out of the car to help unpack and check in when we soon arrived at a local 2-star, “not too high-class but not too cockroach motel-ish cheap” Best Western. After doing all that, I took a shower and dressed in rather more formal clothes than the t-shirt and jeans I was previously wearing, in order to look less ragged next to the well-dressed Gerard. I wanna pay my respects to the people that Gerard held so close to him, and the least I could do was look presentable enough for the occasion of visiting someone’s dead relatives in a cemetery. We then drove about a half hour or so over to the Mount Prospect Cemetery, where Gerard quietly gave me the directions to off the map. When we arrived and parked the car outside of the front gates, I swear I could hear my heart pounding rapidly in my tightening chest. Why, though? Maybe because I’ve actually never been in a cemetery in all the twenty-three years I’ve lived on this planet, or maybe because in a strange way it does feel like I really am visiting Gerard’s parents and grandma as if they were all still alive and not six feet under.
“There’s no need to be scared, Frankie,” Gerard said suddenly, seeing how much I must be shaking right now. “You alright, sugar pop?”
“Yeah, sorry. Let’s go,” I replied, trying to quickly brush off how much of a nervous dunce I’m making myself look. We stepped out of the car and made our way through the tall black wrought-iron gate doors and into the graveyard, surrounded by the tombstones of probably a thousand deceased people, each and every one of them with a story of their own prior to their passing.
“Good lord...just the way I remembered it. This place hasn’t changed at all,” Gerard walked on, pointing to a large oak tree off in the distance. “Come on. They’re all this way, straight up ahead near that big tree,”
“Wait, you’ve been here before?” My eyes widened at the thought of coming in here more than once. I already don’t like the vibes I’m getting from this place. It just keeps hitting me over and over again that there’s dead people all around us, and I don’t know if that sits too well with me. It feels like in a way they’re watching my every move from under all the soil they’re buried under in a casket. This is what happens when you grow up on watching too many zombie and ghost flicks, I guess.
“Of course, baby. I used to come here all the time, especially after...my grandma passed away,” he frowned. “I knew they wanted me to keep them company, so I would always stop by here to see them after school, before I had to return home to the hell-hole dubbed the Richardson residence. I would come here almost every day and sit by their graves and...talk to them, sometimes sing and draw too. It was my way of keeping myself safe from the bullies too, until they eventually found me here and gave me the same old fucking beating, right in front of...d-daddy, m-mama, and-and Elena. That’s when I knew I had to stop coming here, because those fucks found where I’ve been hiding all along. I had to relocate and hide somewhere else. There were times where they’d sit and wait for me to come to the cemetery, no matter how long it took for them until I’d finally arrive. I couldn’t even visit my parents or grandma without putting myself in danger. I had no choice but to stop coming here,”
“Are you serious?” I felt my blood boil at the sight of those heartless pigs terrorize Gerard, let alone in front of his own deceased yet beloved family. Those assholes wouldn’t even let you mourn in peace?”
“Of course not. They took every opportunity they had to use me as their punching bag, Frankie. They would even grab me by my hair and slam my head up against the gravestones. I’m surprised they haven’t killed me or left me a brain-dead mumbler doing so with all the times they’ve done that to me. It hurt like a bitch. That’s alright, though. They didn’t ever kill me, of course. If they did...I never woulda given them all what they deserved,” Gerard briefly smiled that familiar rubbery grin that just makes my skin crawl. Before he could go on about his complete obsession with getting his sweet revenge, he then stopped and turned to me, redirecting me with him to the big oak tree he pointed out to earlier, with three small granite gravestones standing under it in the cool shade. “There they are,”
Gerard sat himself down cross-legged in the shade in front of the three engraved markers, motioning me to sit down next to him on the grass. I reluctantly did so, feeling like I really am meeting Gerard’s parents and grandma for the first time...well, sorta at least. I took a glance at the three of them, each one with their birth and death dates right under their full names.
“It’s alright, baby. They don’t bite,” Gerard laughed a little, turning back to face the memorial stones of his fallen parents and grandma, holding out and introducing hand to me behind him. “D-daddy...m-mama...gramma...this is Frankie. Frankie...this-this is...d-daddy...m-mama...and-and Elena,”
“Hi there...” I said awkwardly, going along with Gerard’s (sort of) family reunion. “Nice to meet you,”
“Please don’t mind him,” he shrugged, still talking to the tombstones. “He’s a bit shy, as you can see. He’s a really good guy once you get to know him...in fact, he’s much more than just that, actually. He is...amazing. He’s done so much for me. He’s helped me through so much. He helped me grow, just like you guys did. He means the whole world to me,” He turned back to me, a warm smile on his face. “Isn’t that right, sugar pop?”
Flattered, I smiled and blushed a bit, seeing Gerard talk so good about me in front of three people that he holds close to his heart. Before I could tell Gerard the same for how much he’s changed me, the smile on his face changed to a sad, bittersweet one as he turned back to face the graves of his fallen loved ones, his eyes on Donna and Donald Way’s.
“D-daddy, m-mama...this man right here is gonna help me with something, just for you guys. He’s...he’s gonna help me get my revenge! He’s gonna help me give those bastards what they deserve, after all these years! Isn’t this great?” He exclaimed, his eyes tearful and voice choked by his held-in cries of twisted joy and mourning. “If it hadn’t been for him...this wouldn’t have been possible! We’re gonna find the monsters that killed you, and spill their blood! I could have been a better son, knowing the human wreck I was long ago, but now this is my chance! I’m gonna make you guys proud! I know I will!”
As Gerard mourned, I just sat there silently right behind him, a million thoughts racing through my head. I really don’t know what to say. Gerard really loves his mom and dad so much that he’s willing to go as far as hunting down the people that were responsible for killing them many years ago. Is that not at all, I dunno, a little messed up? Sure, it is. It’s love, though. It’s very passionate. It’s a very twisted, extreme form of it, but in the end, it’s still genuine love. I seriously haven’t met anyone that holds their own mother and father in such a special place in their hearts as much as Gerard does. Who would go out of their way and sacrifice so much to kill someone, let alone two people, for the sake of avenging their parents? Definitely not a whole lot of people. Some people wouldn’t even give a flying fuck about what happens to the two people that took care of them and raised them since day one. Would I consider myself to be one of those people, after all my mom and dad have put me through for so many years? No, of course not. I don’t hate my parents. I hate what they’ve become. I hate what they’ve done to me. Mom and dad were not always these borderline authoritative, extreme conservatives that absorbed everything from their corrupt church like a sponge. Oh, no. They used to be far from that, when I was young and innocent, unknowing of the cruel and unforgiving world that I was sheltered from. The memories of our summer family vacations Ocean City in Maryland are still fresh in my head, as well as ones of mom reading a small me bedtime stories and dad taking me to the local park. They still wanted me to grow up believing in their sky daddy, making me go to church and Sunday school and all, but it was nothing beyond that, therefore nowhere as bad as it got when things turned sour as I grew older. I don’t even know what made them change so much; it all just happened out of the blue, around the time I was graduating from middle school. As the years went by, the family vacations stopped, as well as the motherly and fatherly love support I was received, and was instead pelted to death with nothing but scrutiny and unreasonable demands, many of them to do with how I wasn’t “good enough”. If I wasn’t constantly talked down to death and treated like shit, they flat-out ignored me, like I didn’t mean diddly-squat to them. They barely gave even half a fuck at my high school graduation. I wasn’t given even an ounce of praise from them. Nothing like “you made it” or “congratulations”, or even a “good job, son”; just nothing but disappointing silence and glances of indifference and boredom as I walked up to grab my diploma and shake hands. It was like I was nothing but an insignificant waste of space to them, nothing but a burden on their shoulders.
Even after all these years, I still don’t know what went wrong. I still don’t know what made them change so much, from these loving parents that supported me and treated me like a son of their own, to these hateful bigoted sacks of degenerate scum that cared about their god much more than me? Was it because I was growing up, turning into my own person and not what they wanted me to be, as their ideal son? Am I right about that? Was that what made them change? Was that the reason why, like I’ve said and known before? Or, was there something going on that they’ve been hiding for me for so long? Whatever it may be, I need to know. My mom and dad have burned the bridge between us that I want to repair. Call me naive or a fool, but I’m willing to give them another chance. They are probably wondering where I’m at now, and what I’ve managed to do with myself since that wretched day they threw me out. Maybe they regret doing that to me. Maybe they want me to come home to see them, and make sure their one and only son is alright. Why do I want to do all this? Because I still love them. Not what they are now, but what they used to be, what they truly are, under all those lies they’ve been fed.
“Gerard...can I ask you something?” I said.
“What, sugar?” Gerard turned to me, his face raw and red from his tears. “What is it?”
“Can we...do something, if we have the time, that is?”
“What’s that?”
“Can we...do the same for me, as you’ve done here?”
“Hmm?” Gerard raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? What do you wanna do?”
“I…,” I sighed, nearly forcing the words right outta my mouth. “I wanna see my mom and dad,”

Notes