Seek and Go Hide
part six
The day after he had fought with Doug on the beach, Jack found himself wandering around the streets of Capeside. His mind was a jumble. He was angry. He was embarrassed. He was hurt. And on top of everything, he had left both his hat and his gloves at school. The cold November air had done a good job of making him feel numb. But he wouldn't stop until he could freeze his whirring brain and stop the onslaught of thoughts and recriminations. And so, he kept walking; past the gift shops, the hair salon, the bank, Leery's Fresh Fish - he didn't really see any of it. The town was so familiar it was all but invisible. Jen was right. I can't do this. I can't hope things might be different someday. I have to live in the now…I gotta break the pattern of choosing people who can't give me 100% or 90% or even 70%…which is a low C. I deserve more than a low C don't I? His disturbing meditation was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Pacey.
Pacey bounded up next to Jack and jostled him with his elbow and said, "Say Jack?"
"Hey Pacey," Jack replied glumly as he kept walking.
"When I told you to give Doug some time…" began Pacey, falling into step beside his obviously upset and distracted friend.
"Yeah?" asked Jack, dreading what was coming next.
"Was thirty minutes really the time frame you thought I had in mind?" joked Pacey kindly.
"Talked to Doug did you?" Jack grimaced slightly. He hadn't exactly promised Pacey he wouldn't say anything to Doug but it had been implied. And on top of everything, Jack didn't like feeling like he had betrayed his old friend. Or at the very least, gotten him into hot water with his brother.
"Talked to? No, try was lectured by."
"Sorry man," mumbled Jack.
Without missing a beat or pausing to acknowledge the apology, Pacey smoothly continued, "And as familiar as I am with the 'Doug Witter Lecture Experience' having been on the receiving end of them a number of times, I've never really been subjected to one quite that loud."
"Sorry," Jack repeated.
Pacey grinned, gestured to himself, and said, "But please do note: Not one bullet hole. So, let's call it a win. Wanna go see a movie?"
Jack wasn't sure why he was surprised by Pacey's easygoing acceptance of the situation - it was typical Pacey behavior to be generous and forgiving of his friends after all. But Jack was taken aback and touched all the same. He smiled at Pacey and found he was a little choked up and didn't quite know what to say. He stammered a bit.
Pacey returned the smile easily and teased, "I'm not asking you for a date McPhee - no need to get all worked up here. So, movie?"
"Sure. What have you got in mind?"
"Improbable escapist fantasy-horror with evil villains, clear plans of violent action, and catchphrase-filled dialogue sound good to you?" suggested Pacey.
Jack laughed, "That's my favorite genre - you know that."
"Well let's get a move on then. I hate to miss the previews."
"Do you hurry home to watch commercials too?" inquired Jack; happy to have something to take his mind off the distressing and frustrating situation with Doug.
The boys hustled down the street, toward the theatre, and out of the cold.
----------------------------------
As for Doug, his day wasn't going much better than Jack's. He was in turmoil. He wanted to apologize to Jack for lashing out at him so horribly. But what can I say? 'You're right. I'm a jackass. Sorry 'bout that.' didn't really seem like it would do the job.
He had worked the early shift at the station and had to go back again tonight. That's what I get for agreeing to something without really listening to what's being asked thought Doug grumpily. But truthfully, being busy helped keep his mind off things, which is why, between shifts, he had chosen to come over to his Mom's and help out with some chores around the house. After clearing the gutters, taking out the trash and sweeping the driveway, Doug fiddled around inside the house. He was cleaning out one of the many junk drawers in the kitchen when he decided that now was as good a time as any to talk to his Mom.
He walked into the den where she was watching something loud and fractious on the TV. He stood in the doorway and said, "Mom, can I talk to you?"
"Right now Dougie?" Mary asked without looking up from her show.
"Well, yes. Unless you have something else you need to do…do you?" he asked pointedly.
She sighed and muted the television but did not turn it off. "No. I guess not."
Walking over to the worn sofa, Doug sat down and asked, "So can we talk?"
"All right. Shoot," said Mary tearing her eyes from the screen for the first time and looking at her oldest son.
Doug took a deep breath and unexpectedly, didn't know where to start. "Hmmmm, it's just…see…what I mean is…ummm"
"Dougie is something wrong?" asked Mary, her motherly concern finally kicking in.
"No nothing's wrong…"
"Then spill it. You've puttering around this house all day and hardly said two words to me and now you want to "talk" but you aren't talking. Quite frankly it's driving me bananas!" she remarked in exasperation.
"Ok, well. Let's see." Doug paused, searching for the words. He bit his lip and looked at the shag carpet.
"Douglas!" she exclaimed.
Steeling himself, Doug spit it out. "Uhmmm, the thing is Mom, well, I'm gay."
Mary looked at him for a minute and then said, "Hasn't your brother been saying that for years?"
"No Mom. I'm not joking," said Doug trying with all his might not to let the aggravation show in his voice.
"Was Pacey joking? All this time? He's a character your brother." She turned her attention back to the television set.
Doug waited. When she didn't say anything else, he couldn't help but ask, "So you're ok with…with what I just told you?"
"Oh, well, if you're asking me - would I choose that lifestyle for you? Probably not - you're too sensitive! So touchy! But that's not something I get to choose honey. You do." She smiled at him and continued, "Dougie, I'm your mother. I just want you to be happy. Does being gay make you happy?"
Flummoxed by his mother's assertion that he was too sensitive to be gay, he responded, "Well, not exactly. Not yet, but I think it will."
"That's all that matters dear," and with that she un-muted the television and rejoined the screaming match already in progress. "Goodness some people are so tacky! Where do the talk shows find them? Do you want to stay for dinner? I'm making fish sticks, the flaky kind, and I have some leftover jello salad."
No longer a fan of his mother's cooking style of defrost, heat, stir and serve, Doug was suddenly very glad he had to work that night. "Thanks but actually, I've got to get back to work."
"Your father never worked as many late night shifts as you do. Are you working too hard?"
"No Mom. Don't worry about me. If you need to fuss over a workaholic, go see Pacey - he could use it. So you're really not upset?"
"About what?" she asked distractedly.
"Me. Being, you know, gay." Doug couldn't believe she was being so blasé and nonjudgmental about the whole thing.
"Well, no. Go…" she waved her hand dismissively, "be gay. Just use your common sense."
"Right," Doug nodded slightly and squinted at his mother, wondering just whom this pod person was. Use your common sense? That's her advice? He decided not to push his luck. He stood up and said, "Common sense. Got it. And Mom, don't mention it to anyone. I'm not ready for all of Capeside to know my business."
"Doug," said Mary looking up at her son with sudden concern and care in her eyes.
"Yeah?" answered Doug with some trepidation.
"When did you grow a beard?"
Shaking his head, Doug kissed his mother on the head and ignored her question saying, "Love you Mom. Talk to you later."
Doug grabbed his coat and put it on when he got outside. He felt the cold night air rush into his lungs and fill him up. He felt strangely light. He felt like maybe he had done that right.
I am a one-way motorway
I'm the one that drives away
Then follows you back home
I am a street light shining
I'm a wild light blinding bright
Burning off alone
It's times like these you learn to live again
It's times like these you give and give again
It's times like these you learn to love again
It's times like these time and time again
I am a new day rising
I'm a brand new sky
To hang the stars upon tonight
I am a little divided
Do I stay or run away
And leave it all behind?
It's times like these you learn to live again
It's times like these you give and give again
It's times like these you learn to love again
It's times like these time and time again
-- Times Like These
By Foo Fighters
part six
The day after he had fought with Doug on the beach, Jack found himself wandering around the streets of Capeside. His mind was a jumble. He was angry. He was embarrassed. He was hurt. And on top of everything, he had left both his hat and his gloves at school. The cold November air had done a good job of making him feel numb. But he wouldn't stop until he could freeze his whirring brain and stop the onslaught of thoughts and recriminations. And so, he kept walking; past the gift shops, the hair salon, the bank, Leery's Fresh Fish - he didn't really see any of it. The town was so familiar it was all but invisible. Jen was right. I can't do this. I can't hope things might be different someday. I have to live in the now…I gotta break the pattern of choosing people who can't give me 100% or 90% or even 70%…which is a low C. I deserve more than a low C don't I? His disturbing meditation was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Pacey.
Pacey bounded up next to Jack and jostled him with his elbow and said, "Say Jack?"
"Hey Pacey," Jack replied glumly as he kept walking.
"When I told you to give Doug some time…" began Pacey, falling into step beside his obviously upset and distracted friend.
"Yeah?" asked Jack, dreading what was coming next.
"Was thirty minutes really the time frame you thought I had in mind?" joked Pacey kindly.
"Talked to Doug did you?" Jack grimaced slightly. He hadn't exactly promised Pacey he wouldn't say anything to Doug but it had been implied. And on top of everything, Jack didn't like feeling like he had betrayed his old friend. Or at the very least, gotten him into hot water with his brother.
"Talked to? No, try was lectured by."
"Sorry man," mumbled Jack.
Without missing a beat or pausing to acknowledge the apology, Pacey smoothly continued, "And as familiar as I am with the 'Doug Witter Lecture Experience' having been on the receiving end of them a number of times, I've never really been subjected to one quite that loud."
"Sorry," Jack repeated.
Pacey grinned, gestured to himself, and said, "But please do note: Not one bullet hole. So, let's call it a win. Wanna go see a movie?"
Jack wasn't sure why he was surprised by Pacey's easygoing acceptance of the situation - it was typical Pacey behavior to be generous and forgiving of his friends after all. But Jack was taken aback and touched all the same. He smiled at Pacey and found he was a little choked up and didn't quite know what to say. He stammered a bit.
Pacey returned the smile easily and teased, "I'm not asking you for a date McPhee - no need to get all worked up here. So, movie?"
"Sure. What have you got in mind?"
"Improbable escapist fantasy-horror with evil villains, clear plans of violent action, and catchphrase-filled dialogue sound good to you?" suggested Pacey.
Jack laughed, "That's my favorite genre - you know that."
"Well let's get a move on then. I hate to miss the previews."
"Do you hurry home to watch commercials too?" inquired Jack; happy to have something to take his mind off the distressing and frustrating situation with Doug.
The boys hustled down the street, toward the theatre, and out of the cold.
----------------------------------
As for Doug, his day wasn't going much better than Jack's. He was in turmoil. He wanted to apologize to Jack for lashing out at him so horribly. But what can I say? 'You're right. I'm a jackass. Sorry 'bout that.' didn't really seem like it would do the job.
He had worked the early shift at the station and had to go back again tonight. That's what I get for agreeing to something without really listening to what's being asked thought Doug grumpily. But truthfully, being busy helped keep his mind off things, which is why, between shifts, he had chosen to come over to his Mom's and help out with some chores around the house. After clearing the gutters, taking out the trash and sweeping the driveway, Doug fiddled around inside the house. He was cleaning out one of the many junk drawers in the kitchen when he decided that now was as good a time as any to talk to his Mom.
He walked into the den where she was watching something loud and fractious on the TV. He stood in the doorway and said, "Mom, can I talk to you?"
"Right now Dougie?" Mary asked without looking up from her show.
"Well, yes. Unless you have something else you need to do…do you?" he asked pointedly.
She sighed and muted the television but did not turn it off. "No. I guess not."
Walking over to the worn sofa, Doug sat down and asked, "So can we talk?"
"All right. Shoot," said Mary tearing her eyes from the screen for the first time and looking at her oldest son.
Doug took a deep breath and unexpectedly, didn't know where to start. "Hmmmm, it's just…see…what I mean is…ummm"
"Dougie is something wrong?" asked Mary, her motherly concern finally kicking in.
"No nothing's wrong…"
"Then spill it. You've puttering around this house all day and hardly said two words to me and now you want to "talk" but you aren't talking. Quite frankly it's driving me bananas!" she remarked in exasperation.
"Ok, well. Let's see." Doug paused, searching for the words. He bit his lip and looked at the shag carpet.
"Douglas!" she exclaimed.
Steeling himself, Doug spit it out. "Uhmmm, the thing is Mom, well, I'm gay."
Mary looked at him for a minute and then said, "Hasn't your brother been saying that for years?"
"No Mom. I'm not joking," said Doug trying with all his might not to let the aggravation show in his voice.
"Was Pacey joking? All this time? He's a character your brother." She turned her attention back to the television set.
Doug waited. When she didn't say anything else, he couldn't help but ask, "So you're ok with…with what I just told you?"
"Oh, well, if you're asking me - would I choose that lifestyle for you? Probably not - you're too sensitive! So touchy! But that's not something I get to choose honey. You do." She smiled at him and continued, "Dougie, I'm your mother. I just want you to be happy. Does being gay make you happy?"
Flummoxed by his mother's assertion that he was too sensitive to be gay, he responded, "Well, not exactly. Not yet, but I think it will."
"That's all that matters dear," and with that she un-muted the television and rejoined the screaming match already in progress. "Goodness some people are so tacky! Where do the talk shows find them? Do you want to stay for dinner? I'm making fish sticks, the flaky kind, and I have some leftover jello salad."
No longer a fan of his mother's cooking style of defrost, heat, stir and serve, Doug was suddenly very glad he had to work that night. "Thanks but actually, I've got to get back to work."
"Your father never worked as many late night shifts as you do. Are you working too hard?"
"No Mom. Don't worry about me. If you need to fuss over a workaholic, go see Pacey - he could use it. So you're really not upset?"
"About what?" she asked distractedly.
"Me. Being, you know, gay." Doug couldn't believe she was being so blasé and nonjudgmental about the whole thing.
"Well, no. Go…" she waved her hand dismissively, "be gay. Just use your common sense."
"Right," Doug nodded slightly and squinted at his mother, wondering just whom this pod person was. Use your common sense? That's her advice? He decided not to push his luck. He stood up and said, "Common sense. Got it. And Mom, don't mention it to anyone. I'm not ready for all of Capeside to know my business."
"Doug," said Mary looking up at her son with sudden concern and care in her eyes.
"Yeah?" answered Doug with some trepidation.
"When did you grow a beard?"
Shaking his head, Doug kissed his mother on the head and ignored her question saying, "Love you Mom. Talk to you later."
Doug grabbed his coat and put it on when he got outside. He felt the cold night air rush into his lungs and fill him up. He felt strangely light. He felt like maybe he had done that right.
I am a one-way motorway
I'm the one that drives away
Then follows you back home
I am a street light shining
I'm a wild light blinding bright
Burning off alone
It's times like these you learn to live again
It's times like these you give and give again
It's times like these you learn to love again
It's times like these time and time again
I am a new day rising
I'm a brand new sky
To hang the stars upon tonight
I am a little divided
Do I stay or run away
And leave it all behind?
It's times like these you learn to live again
It's times like these you give and give again
It's times like these you learn to love again
It's times like these time and time again
-- Times Like These
By Foo Fighters
end part 6