Miles. Part 10

I read Shakespeare's seventy first sonnet in a cold, even voice that unsettled the drafty, echoing church into a tense silence that continued through the mercifully brief service at the suburban cemetery's ultra-modern gla.s.s chapel.

The mourners filed out to their cars while I sat down on the carpeted cement floor, staring at my Mom and Dad with the book of sonnets pressed between my chest and my crossed arms. The Huns would be off to the local country club for the post-burial lunch arranged for by Dad's partners, I noted idly.

"Are you coming, baby?" I glared at Veronica and Uncle Alex until they turned around and left.

The cemetery people came in to take the coffins away. I stood up and let Nicolasha wrap his arm around my shoulders and walk me out to his snow-covered Volvo. I heard the chapel door close behind me.

Many Christmases ago, me and Mom and Dad spent the holiday at Uncle Alex's new Minnesota redoubt, which he called Der Schloss. It was the last really happy Christmas we had together. I don't think it got above zero the entire time we were there. The front of Unc's Schloss was built on top of a big hill that rolled down to a good-sized lake that the town was built around. The lake was frozen solid, of course, and so was Unc's hill, after Dad snuck out and hosed it down one night. We spent the next day with Unc's hick neighbors, trying to kill ourselves sledding, rolling, sliding, and falling down the hill of gla.s.s.

It was some of the best fun I've ever had.

Nicolasha cleared the snow off of the car with a tiny broom. As I sat and looked out of windows, the whole world seemed white. The sky. The gra.s.s and the trees. The air. Everything.

X I I I.

'Tis bitter cold

And I am sick at heart.

Hamlet My teacher dropped me off at home. He kissed me once on the cheek and waved at me as he drove away, leaving me to face my empty house alone. As I unlocked the front door, I saw a yellow envelope sticking out of the mailbox. I left it there to answer the phone. It was Felix. The snowstorm had stopped almost every flight in and out of the Midwest. He didn't know when he would be able to come, but promised he would, even if he had to sleep another night at the airport to get a seat. I believed him, and was happy to hear his voice, even though I'm sure he couldn't tell that, because I didn't say much. He said he loved me before he rang off. I trudged upstairs to take another long, hot shower. Offenbach's Orpheus in the Underworld kept me company.

I threw my suit into the corner of my closet and put on a brand new pair of long underwear and jeans, a fresh t-shirt, wool hiking socks, and a thick, itchy, and black V-neck sweater given to me by Veronica. It crinkled with static over my uncombed hair as I slipped it down my arms.

I walked into the family room to lace up my hiking boots. I had planned to take a walk in the park before ordering a pizza and going to bed early. Instead, I stared out into the backyard and watched the sky get darker and darker. It still hadn't stopped snowing. The phone rang. I switched on a light before answering it on the third ring.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Hey! This is Brennan. Merry two days after Christmas!"

"Hi." I plopped onto the couch with relief. It wasn't a family member, thank G.o.d.

"How are you?" My voice was a mixture of happiness and exhaustion.

"I'd be happy to get back home." Speak for yourself, bud. "We're stuck at my Grandpa's place in Terre Haute." Talk about being in mourning. "The local Interstate is all screwed up."

I remembered the limousine almost being broadsided by a Chicago Transit Authority bus as we slid across a red light at Halsted Street on the way to the cemetery. Wow, I thought, almost got the entire family in two days. "I tried calling you on Christmas."

"Really? I tried calling you, too, but all I got was a busy signal. The same thing last night."

I had taken the phone off the hook before going to sleep.

We bantered on about our presents and the weather and going back to school and playing baseball again, until I finally told him about Mom and Dad. I also wanted to tell Brennan about the wake and the funeral, about all the bizarre things I had to do and listen to and watch, but chose not to after I almost started crying again, just thinking about it.

I looked forward to the day when I could go more than twelve hours without wanting to break down and cry.

"I don't know if I'll see you before school starts again." Brennan's voice sounded regretful and unhappy. He had been so cheery when the conversation began. "My parents are talking about staying here until after the first."

"That's okay. I'll see you when you get back." I tried to sound as hopeful as I suddenly realized I wanted to be.

"No, it isn't. I should be there now, with you."

I felt a small flash inside of me.

There were about ten of us who played ball together. We didn't have teams. We just took turns coming to bat and switched positions when we weren't up. Most of the guys went to the local public high school, and they were the closest friends. They saw each other every day, no matter what. Brennan and Ozzie went to the nearest Catholic boys school, but didn't seem to hang out much, except with us. I was the only one who left the immediate suburbs every day and always seemed to be the last one called out to play, even though everyone was cool to me. I suppose if you counted all the games and all the cookouts and all the times we'd drink and light up together since I moved in from Roseland, we were actually a pretty good group of buddies. But I never pictured any of them as friends, or ones that would last, and never felt like anyone was picturing me that way either.

Brennan all of a sudden did. Another close friend? I was still getting used to the one, and now out of the clear blue I had two. Flash.

"Are you still there?"

"I'm sorry. My minds someplace else." I wasn't day-dreaming. I couldn't focus long enough to do that. I was tired, but not terribly sleepy. My stomach felt like it was a pretzel. I wasn't sure if I was hungry or I had some queer ache that wouldn't go away. Since the Captain had brought me home, I had washed my hands and face more than Lady Macbeth. My teeth ground together, picturing Brennan playing in the untouched Indiana snow. I had two close friends my own age in the entire world, and they were both in different states, I protested to any G.o.d that might have been listening. I sighed heavily. "I'm glad you called, though."

"I feel real close to you right now." Sure. Terre Haute might as well be in France, for all intents and purposes. And Fort Myers? How about the Seych.e.l.les? "Hey!" He barked at me like I was standing across an outfield from him. "Did you get my Christmas card?"

The envelope I left outside. I felt a little life creep back into me. "That yellow thing? What are you trying to say to me, hm?"

"It's all they had left down here," Brennan replied defensively. "They ran out of fluorescent pink envelopes."

"That's because you kept them all for yourself."

"f.u.c.k you!" I heard a single, loud "hey!" from an older man in the background, probably his dad. "f.u.c.k you!" Brennan whispered.

"No. Not unless I can f.u.c.k you back." We burst out laughing, nervously you could hear it, but laughing all the same. Terre Haute didn't seem so far away right then.

The doorbell rang. I flinched. "Someone is at the door." Oh, please, I pleaded to the ceiling, don't let it be a relative. We listened to each other not say anything for almost a minute. The chimes rang again.

"Okay. I'll call you in the morning." Brennan's voice got cheery again. "Don't stay up all night drinking."

"It's an idea at that."

Wait. Oh my G.o.d! I knew it! It was those d.a.m.ned coffins! Mom! Dad! I told them they were too uncomfortable!

"The eaglet has landed." Felix's usually dapper trench coat looked old and wrinkled. Snowflakes dotted his shoulders and were strewn all over his wind-blown hair. He held out his hand with an apologetic look on his sun-burnt face, which looked funny in the cold. "I'm sorry I couldn't get here any sooner."

I shook my head in disbelief, but seized Felix's offered hand in both of mine. I had resigned myself to a long night alone. Now I had Felix standing in front of me, smiling me into submission. "I thought you were still in Florida," I said dumbly.

"My pale face is."

We practically knocked ourselves over trying to hug each other, the snow, wind, and cold be d.a.m.ned.

The entire house looked like the Red Army had just gone through it. Dishes and gla.s.ses, clothes and boxes, wrapping paper and books, everything was everywhere it didn't belong.

Felix peered into our arid refrigerator. "What were you planning on doing for dinner?" He took out a bottle of c.o.ke for the two of us.

"Pizza," and a bottle of vodka for dessert.

"Well, there's nothing in here. You go and order one, and I'll start cleaning up."

"Felix, I can do it myself later on."

"Later on when? Next year?"

"Next year starts in three days."

Felix brought the mini-debate to a halt by turning on the kitchen radio, which was set to Dad's usual jazz station. He nodded his head with satisfaction. "This is pretty cool music." My friend pushed me toward the wall phone. "You won't do any work if there's some symphony on."

We gutted every room in the house. The kitchen was now spotless. Every dish and gla.s.s was washed and put away. I started a fire while Felix tended to the couches, the book shelves, and the wet bar. He did two loads of laundry while I dusted and vacuumed both the living and dining rooms. He even scrubbed my bathroom down while I changed the sheets and made my bed, which I hoped we would share later that night. I put away the clothes Felix had washed while he went through my record collection.

"Have you listened to all of these?"

"Not yet. That's my Christmas project." We smiled at each other. "Want to help out with that, too?"

"We didn't shovel the driveway yet."

"That's what American technology is for. We have a snow-blower."

He put a hand on my arm. "I know. Let's get up early tomorrow and take it out and do a bunch of driveways. We'll take turns so we don't get tired, and make a ton of money." His eyes sparkled at me, but I turned away from him and idly fiddled with my record player.

"I think I've got a lot of money, now." The doorbell started ringing, another fine friendship moment broken by the bell. I looked at my Omega. Two hours for a pizza? I handed Felix a ten dollar bill from my jeans pocket, and said in an empty voice, "We didn't do my Mom and Dad's room yet."

Felix put himself in my arms. I closed my eyes, fighting off another attack of tears, when my best friend whispered, "Tomorrow." He held my face in his hands for a moment, before going downstairs to get our sumptuous dinner.

I knelt down and began picking out alb.u.ms I wanted to listen to with Felix.

Felix asked, "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing, really."

I wore my tartan robe and a pair of white socks. Felix wore its matching pajama top, which hung down below his underwear. He sat on the carpet, propped up on an oversized pillow against the couch. I lay next to him in front of the warm and colorful fireplace. His arm was draped over my chest while my head rested in his lap.

"Wh.o.r.e you trying to fool, bro? Youre always thinking about something."

I placed my hand over his, pressing his palm over my breast. Felix slid his other hand beside my face. "I'm trying not to think in the first place."

He lowered his voice, as if someone might hear him. "What are you feeling, then?"

"I feel loved." The words came without hesitation or thought. So did his.

"You are." I sat up slowly and moved beside Felix, pulling a blanket up over our legs. "Am I?"

I nudged closer to him and touched his face with the side of my fingers. "More than I can probably say out loud."

"Do you mean that?"

I shifted around to face him, taking both of his hands in mine. "Sure I do. Doesn't it sound like I mean it?" Felix looked embarra.s.sed as he nodded his head. "Why would you even ask that?"

Felix pulled his hands out from mine, only to take them inside of his. "My Grandfather always says that people already have an answer in mind when they ask a question."

"He's probably right. So?"

"I know you meant what you said. You always do." Felix let go of my hands and looked away from me to the fire. "I just wanted you to say it again."

I sensed something was wrong. Felix sounded afraid and defensive, nothing at all like his usual optimistic, playful self. His happiness made him such a source of strength for me. "Well, just for the record, I'll say it again." He tried to laugh me off, but it didn't work. "And again and again, until you finally believe me."

"I believe you."

"No, Felix. I mean, believe me, deep down, in your heart of hearts." I put my arm around his shoulders and drew my face close to his, making him finally look me in the eyes. I all but smiled at the worry I saw and felt in my fellow lone wolf. "You're my best friend, Felix." I watched his bottom lip begin to shake. "I love you." His eyes shut fast. I started to speak softly. "Do you hear me? I love you." I moved my lips closer to his. Excitement coursed through my body, as tension gripped Felix's. "I love you, OK?"

"Sure," he whispered. "But if you love me, will you tell me the truth, no matter what I ask you?" I could almost smell the alarm inside of Felix's voice. I leaned my forehead against his before sitting back beside him, regret seeping into the warm waters that only moments before were flooding throughout me.

"You're my best friend." I crossed my arms over my chest and took a few deep breaths. "You left your family back in Florida just to be with me. Do you know what that means to me? Everything that's happened...the last few days, they seem less... horrible, now." I sensed the night was coming to an end. My voice shifted into neutral. "I love you, Felix. You can ask me anything you want."

"You said you weren't in the car when your..." I could hear him swallow, "...your parents..."

"No."

"Why not?"

I told him every detail of my family's Christmas Eve. He listened closely and unhappily, noting the leftover bruises that were still visible on my face.

"Where did you go after they drove off?"