Just look over your shoulder

Chapter 3 We spend the next couple of days like we do every year when we’re captured in here. We talk. And I mean a lot. It’s just natural because what else could we do in such a small space? Going outside for a long time is not an option and that means all the things we usually do, like swimming or doing laundry or just usual chores are no opportunity. So we talk. It always starts the same way; We talk about nonsense, just your usual small talk until it becomes a full conversation and the topic turns into seriousness. “Do you ever think about..?” Gerard would ask me in a small voice and I’d look away. It’s hard for me to talk about the big things but I think it’s even harder for Gerard since he is older and witnessed and memorized more than me. My memories of home blur a bit more every year, but I think it’s a whole other deal to him. Gerard never forgets anything, good or bad. The main topics we talk about are different every year. For example, 4 years ago, we talked mainly about Brian since it was not too long ago that we had lost him. The following year we talked about our parents and home. Last year we talked about the future and our hopes, dreams, and wishes. Trust me, every year, at least one of us ends up crying if not both of us. We mostly avoid talking about the heart-wrenching stuff during the year because it hurts and it feels vain because we can’t change anything about our situation and the past or prevent the future. The year we talked about mother and father was probably the most agonizing conversation we ever had. It’s so incredibly painful to lose your parents. We never got a chance to say goodbye to our father because everything happened so fast that tragic day. The last memory I have of him, is him smiling at us though, which is a slight consolation. Both I and Gerard hugged our mother goodbye and promised her to be good boys and she kissed our foreheads. Neither of us knew that this would be a farewell. When we sat here and talked about our last memories with them and the thunder shook the earth, we both cried and couldn’t stop so for a long while. We wondered if they got divorced after father came back- if he ever came back- or if they sat at home, slung around each other and cried like we did. We wondered if they ever got another child or sold our toys because it was too painful to look at them or if they did nothing at all or went out searching for us. Of course, we’d never get an answer to any of those questions, but talking about it seemed important to handle our loss and somehow make it okay. “I think it’s like in that book, remember? Where the mother lost their children, and waited by the open window for them to return?” Gerard said while the lightning flickered outside. “You mean Peter Pan?” I said, sniffing in his lap. He stroked behind my ear where the bows of my glasses were jammed, and over my hair that had gotten too long and said quietly, barely audible over the rain, “Yeah... like in Peter Pan.” The next morning, the storm had subsided almost completely so we decided to pack our things and get ready to go back and by noon, we were home and started to rebuild things around the house. “We will be okay without them, Twee. I know we will. We have each other.” Gerard said at last when he noticed me staring into the distance the first night we slept home again. He cupped my cheek with his right hand and stroked over my eyebrow like he always does in really important moments, before leaning in and kissing my forehead like mother liked to do. It was comforting and I trusted Gerard’s words. We would be okay. - Sitting by the fireplace on the 3rd evening, it’s me who’s brave enough to ask the question for the very first time after all these years. “Do you ever think about Frank and Raymond? What they’re doing or how they might look like now?” We hadn’t done anything special yesterday. The mood was still slightly off after the fight but there were moments when we would tease each other in the pristine, brotherly way that we always have. It wasn’t cold last night so I didn’t need Gerard to warm me and we both slept through the night without any incidents. I think tonight might be the last night in the cave and not that I don’t like being here, but our bodies are starting to protest. We can’t stand up or walk around except for little pee-breaks, but that’s about it. There’s barely any daylight in here and our muscles ache from the lack of movement. I desperately need to bathe and we’re running low on food. The storm is coming to an end though, we can feel it thanks to the years of practice and experience. Gerard throws the little stick he’d been playing with in the fire and sighs, resting his chin on his knees. “’Course I do. I went to school with Ray, and Frank often came over to play...I could never forget ‘em.” “They liked you a lot. You know, Frank always got excited when you played with us,” I say, and watch as the little stick burns down. “But he was your best friend and Ray probably I thought I was weird.” I can’t help the audible scoff that escapes my throat. “Well that’s because you are weird, but in the best way, honest!” He tries to hide his grin behind his kneecaps but I know it’s there. “And also,” I start and shift a bit closer, leaning my back against the wall next to him. “You got it right that Frank and I were close friends, but so were you and him. And he wasn’t my best friend.” I bend my knees and lazily rest my forearms on them. Then I let my head fall back against the wall and turn my gaze towards him. “Was he not?” he asks and pinches his eyebrows together, looking me directly in the eye. “Nah,” I dock my ankle against his and pull my lips into a smile. “That’s always been you.” He smiles this crooked little smile where he first grins so much that you’d think his teeth fall out and then realizes what he’s doing and tries to hide it by awkwardly pulling his lips together in a way that almost looks uptight. It’s my favorite Gerard smile because it’s completely honest. “Yeah?” Another thing he’s trying to hide but, it’s obvious that he’s beaming on the inside. I nod-smile and pick at my fingers absently. He looks me up and down a few times before saying, “Maybe Raymond is married now,” he stops briefly when I pull a face. “No, but think about it! He was my age and his parents always demanded that he needed to be married by 18. He’s almost 18 now, so who knows?” It’s true. I remember overhearing a few hastily conversations between Raymond and his father when I and Gerard were over for the afternoon or even spent the night. I remember that his parents used to be super strict, which, fine, I get that. Our parents were strict, but they would have never demanded such a great big thing as this was from us. Mother and father were stern and they gave us a lot of rules we had to follow, but we did have our freedom, which in my opinion, is something absolutely indispensable. They let us be who we wanted to be and raised us with open minds like it should be. I remember that he sometimes appeared very forlorn and that made me sad because Ray’s personality used to be super cheerful and happy. He was always smiling, yeah, but I knew that on the inside, he was broken. His parents tried to make him into something he wasn’t. I could see that, even though I was still very young back then. It wasn’t hard to overlook. He loved his parents dearly and they loved him back just as much, but they also destroyed him at such a young age. Maybe because their parents used the same methods on them and they didn’t know it any better. But that’s no excuse, in my opinion. They could have made him experience the same, carefree childhood that I and my brother had, but something went significantly wrong. I guess even adults have to learn a lot of things, sometimes even more than children. “I just hope it’s someone who he really likes,” Gerard continues, startling me a little. I nod in response and try to imagine him with a nice girl by his side. Whoever that girl is, she is pretty lucky. Ray is a lovely person. “Do you think his hair got bigger?” Gerard asks and we both laugh. “I don’t think that’s possible, but probably,” I say and try to imagine how he looks now. Probably pretty tall, since he was the tallest out of us 4 back then. He liked to dress in casual clothes when he was both out or at home and not the stiff, church-like clothes his parents constantly made him wear. He was always open to try new things and take risks, he handled complicated situations with such ease that it amazed the people around him. He was extremely talented and always tried to soak in as much of life as possible. If I had to name it, I'd say that he was one of those 'wonder-kids' who were always good at school, could play any instrument, were nice and clever and socially engaged and knew the answer to everything. I would give a lot to see him and Frank one last time because just like with our father, we never got to say goodbye properly. I wonder if they have other friends now and replaced us. It hurts, but I hope they did. I hope they were able to move on just like I and Gerard did, forcibly. All I want for them is to remember us and our friendship. We had something very special. “I wonder if Frankie is still in Catholic school,” I say, trying to change the topic. “How old is he now?” Gerard asks and I think for a moment. “Should be 13. I think he was a year younger than me, wasn’t he?” Gerard shrugs his shoulders in an ‘I don’t know’ kind of way and grins suddenly. “Remember how much he hated those ties? I mean, they made him wear those silly outfits even in pre-school. I’m just glad we didn’t have to run around like that.” I smile at the memory. Yeah, he always complained about his school outfits and said the ties made him choke and look stupid. But he liked to go to church on Sundays, not like most kids, and sometimes even took me, Raymond and Gerard with him. It was something that grounded him and gave him strength that he often needed, thanks to the illness he had to fight. “At least his parents were nice. His mother always cooked the best pies and his father had a great sense of humor. Oh, and remember when he took us fishing with him and Frank that one day?” I say, beaming at the memory. It was a fantastic day. It was still early summer and it was all foggy in the morning and the grass was wet from the dew of the night. He took us three to a lake by a quarry. The water was clear and deep and neither of us could swim yet, so he dressed us in swimming vests in case one of us would fall in. He showed us how to make a fishing root with a long stick, some yarn, and a hook and he taught us those funny fishing songs. His mother had prepared sandwiches for us and little bottles of self-made cherry juice and even some candy to keep our blood sugar up, or so she said with a smile and a wink when she gave Frank the basket with goodies. We didn’t catch a single fish, but it didn’t matter. We still had a great time. I think it was a month after I and Frank met in kindergarten and apparently, our parents were relieved that we became friends because we were both pretty shy. It was just natural, that when Frank came to our house for the first time, that I’d invite Gerard to play with us and soon, we three became close friends. I and Frank only went to kindergarten together before his parents made him go to a private Catholic school, but since we lived on the same street, it was easy to stay in contact. One summer, me and him went to a holiday camp with his church group and our friendship got even deeper. I remember that he was always the smallest kid, like, always, and therefore got teased quite a lot but I stood up for him like a friend should. In return, he would stick up for me when the kids at the playground would tease me for my glasses and my too long and lanky limbs. We made a great team. He was always fascinated by art and asked either me or Gerard to draw little pictures on his arms because he wanted to look different. One winter, he even cut his long hair all by himself into a strange mix of long and short strands. Others thought it was weird and his parents even grounded him for a week, but it suited him and made him happy. He would cut slots in his pants on purpose and always wore at least 3 t-shirts at once because he always got cold, no matter what season of the year. His mother once told me his immune system didn’t work properly and therefore he got sick very fast. He was always hyperactive no matter what time of the day, always needed to do something. It was either amusing or exhausting to watch for people who didn’t know him, but it never annoyed me or Gerard. We accepted him for who he was and he did the same for us in return. Frank was one of a kind, that’s for sure. “Do you remember that kid.,” Gerard says suddenly, snapping his fingers, thinking. “What was his name, Jimmy? John?” “You mean James? Of course, I remember him, Frankie was totally in love with him!” I say, grinning from ear to ear. Gerard’s eyes widen at that and his voice sounds excited and honky when he says, “Was he really? Why didn’t he tell me?!” I shrug in response. “Maybe because he was ashamed? I don’t know. I remember that he always turned dark red whenever James talked to him while we were in camp or whatever and said that he didn’t like him at all when I asked him about it. It was adorable.” Gerard huffs a laugh and scratches his toes on the ground. “You think his parents would have been okay with it? I mean, I guess they knew that they were friends and all but did they know that he liked him?” I have to think about that for a minute. I don’t remember Frank’s parents were super strict, (except maybe for the church stuff) but on the other hand, I mean, we were still so young and relationships and love, in general, were boring topics to us. We much more cared about being allowed to go to this super awesome new water-playground they opened in the park near our house, or playing hide and seek in our basement. I knew Frankie had a crush on that boy because he told me when I promised not to tell anyone, but I didn’t know what that was like since I had never had a crush before. The only people in my age I knew and cared about were Ray, Frank and my brother, but I don’t recall being in love with either of them. If I had to choose though, I probably wouldn’t have picked Ray since he often appeared to avoid this particular topic for certain reasons. I can’t remember that he ever liked a girl or a boy in the time we lived at home, and he definitely was in the right age to have crushes. We always figured that he was fine by himself. And if that’s what made him happy, then so it is. I probably wouldn’t have chosen Frank either, because he obviously liked that James kid for several months and I wouldn’t want to come in between those two. Gerard? Well, I never thought about it until now, so I honestly don’t have a proper answer to that. Maybe I would have picked him though because we were together all the time anyway and he has always been my hero, but as I said, I don’t know what it’s like to have a crush on someone, let alone be in love. To be honest, I’m not even sure if I know the difference between the two. I was never told what love feels like. “Why wouldn’t they be okay with him liking James?” I ask Gerard in return after a moment, because I can’t find a response to his question. “Because he was a boy? Think about it, Mikes. Adults only ever talked about women marrying men. Have you ever heard anyone talking about girls liking girls or boys liking boys? At least I don’t.” I narrow my eyebrows at his words. I guess I see where he’s coming from, but I’ve honestly never thought about this before. I’ve always thought it was natural for boys to like boys and the same for girls. I’m confused and I’m not sure if I understand what he’s trying to say. “Maybe they thought it’s wrong? Or maybe it’s forbidden by the law?” Gerard continues, looking sadly in the direction of the entrance. I snort. To that, I know the answer immediately. “Baloney. Come on, Gee don’t be silly. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that.” I hesitate for a moment when I don’t get a response. “Or do you think there’s something wrong with it?” I tilt my head to the side and wait for an answer. He snaps his head back and looks at me funny. “Of course not. But I’m not like them. I’ve always seen the things a bit different than most people, you know that.” I consider this for a moment but shake my head in the end. “I don’t think you’re right. I think a lot of people see the things like you, or me, by the way, thank you very much, but they just don’t say it. Maybe because they’re afraid to speak up.” I change my position so that I’m sitting cross-legged in front of him. Suddenly, this topic is very important to me for some reason. I take a long breath for what I’m about to say next. “I think it’s like the thing with the hair and girls-clothes you told me, remember? People have this retracted opinion on specific things because important people on the television or in the papers say how certain things apparently are or have to be when really, they only tell lies or at least not the whole truth. They’re all wrong though. Don’t you think that every single person was born the way they are? I think so. And something like love can never be wrong. Relationships, no matter which people are in it, are great and precious and should be accepted for as long as it’s reciprocated on both ends. I think the people on TV have no right to say otherwise. That’s what should be forbidden by the law!” I’m mostly done with my explanation for now, but I have one last thing to say. “The world never matches the thoughts and things that go on inside our heads, Gee. But that doesn’t mean they’re wrong.” Gerard looks at me and sighs. “But why would they be so mean? Don’t they know that they’re hurting addressed people? Hurting people, prohibiting certain things such as love and telling lies is forbidden, Mikey.” He looks really upset and crushed and I have to ask myself if he ever got hurt in that regard. The thought makes me sad so I try to say something to cheer him up. “I know. But maybe the people on TV have changed while we were here? Who knows, maybe everyone is smart and wise now.” When I hear him giggle slightly, I know that I have him back. “You mean wise like you?” he asks and tips his fingertip to my nose. I grin and nod feverishly. “Exactly! See, I knew you thought I was wise and smart.” He rolls his eyes and snickers. “Yeah yeah, whatever. I guess you’re right after all. Seriously, the world needs more people like you. You would make a great superhero, you know?” Hearing him say that brightens me up. “You mean like the heroes you want to write about?” My heart does a jump. Gerard’s opinion on superheroes is pretty particular and I know what big of an honor it is that he would pick me as one. He smiles sweetly and nods. “Yeah. You would save the world with your cleverness and I would write about it and we’d become famous and everyone would love us.” I touch his knee with the tips of my fingers and look him in the eyes, smiling. “Keep that in mind for when we get out of here.” He strokes over the fingernail of my pointer finger and nods. “I could never forget.” -- While we talked, it got late and Gerard’s yawning and eye-rubbing told me that he must be pretty tired. I told him to go to sleep since we’re having a big day tomorrow, and only a few minutes later, I heard him snoring softly. I’m tired too, but not quite ready to sleep yet. I have too many things running around in my head after the conversation we had, memories about Frank and Raymond, mother and father, Brian. Hope that the world really did change after we left. Our mother always told me that I overthink everything too much and that I shouldn’t waste my thoughts and time on ‘unimportant things’, but that’s exactly the thing; nothing was ever unimportant to me. Maybe that’s why Gerard’s words that first morning in here hurt me so much and still plague me in moments of silence like right now. I sigh and pull the thin covers over Gerard’s sleeping form before I crawl over to the entrance to peek outside. The weather seems to have settled mostly which means we can actually go back tomorrow if it stays that way. That’s both good and bad. As I said, I and Gerard need our full body circulation back, we need food and water and sunlight, but I’ll also miss how close we are in here. And I mean the talking and occasional cuddles. The fighting part was obviously no fun for either of us. I have a feeling that as soon as we’re back, we won’t be as close anymore. We don't really have a choice in here but back on the beach, we have separated rooms and another everyday life. Maybe I have to work out a plan, I think, as I stare out into the black night. If Gerard thinks he’s harming me by being close and all, then maybe I need to find a way to show him that that’s not the case at all. To be honest, after the last three days in here, I feel like I want to be even closer to him, probably because I got used to the idea of us being like that for mere hours at once. I’ve always been the clingier person of the two of us. And I wouldn’t mind a repetition of the way we cuddled that second night. I blink a couple of times in the night sky before I shrug out of my clothes, make sure the fire is out completely and then crawl back to the sleeping area. When I’ve laid down and made myself comfortable, I take a minute to look at my brother in the dim light of the lantern. He looks exhausted and tired, even though he’s fully asleep by now. His face is scrunched up and he breathes too fast. A long strand has fallen over his eyes so I carefully brush it away. I hesitate for a moment, but then I brush the pad of my thumb over his eyebrow like he does with me all the time. I wonder why he does it but I think it has got something to do with the glasses I’m missing now. When I got my first pair of glasses at the age of 4, Gerard always stroked behind my ears because I just couldn’t get used to the pressure of the bows. They always felt too tight and itchy. It’s another habit he still does occasionally when I get a headache or he just gives me a head rub and pays special attention to that particular spot. The eyebrow thing probably comes from those times, mostly evenings when I snug into his bed and was finally allowed to pull them off and my face looked different without them. I know he liked to touch my face in the weirdest places and when there was no barrier of the glasses in the way, he took that as a chance to stroke over my eyebrows. No one was ever allowed to touch me, especially my face, except maybe my parents and occasionally Frank, but Gerard was always the exception to everything. Doing the same for him now feels kind of strange. He’s in a vulnerable state right now and he didn’t give me the permission, but I just had to try it out. While I’m stroking over his eyebrow for a second and then third time, I think I’m starting to understand it. It makes me feel connected to him in a way that is familiar and comforting. It’s kind of like I can see myself through his eyes and is strangely intimate, as weird as it sounds. As I drift off, I realize that I feel closer to Gerard than when we came here almost 4 days ago. We survived yet another storm, another bad fight, another painful conversation and another few days on this island. I never doubted that we couldn’t, but I guess we can survive anything together.

Notes