#09

The temperature has dropped one or two degrees since the radio play ended, but with his belly full of grilled meat, Danny is about to hit the sweet, warm spot of post-meal satisfaction. He's looking at the sky, tracing with his eyes the few constellations he knows; there's Orion, the hunter that dared say he was going to kill every animal in sight; then there's Gemini, with Castor and Pollux, which are the only stars he actually knows by name; and finally, if he's doing this correctly, there should be the Big Dipper somewhere to his left… or maybe a lot more to his left… or not at all.

"You daydreaming on the job?" Says Freddie, coming from behind him. Danny, who's been doing his best to wash the dishes without getting too lost in the sky or his own giddy feelings of contentment, splashes some dishwater right into Freddie's sweatshirt and smirks. "Oh, now it's on!" Says Freddie, and off he goes, trying to gain access to the dishwater, as Danny does his best blocking his path and managing to get Freddie's clothes even more wet, as he basically dries his hands and forearms on him every time he touches him.

Eventually Freddie gives up on his plan, and reroutes his efforts towards Danny and Danny's hands. He grabs one hand by the wrist, but Danny fights dirty and pokes him hard on the ribs with the other. Danny's laughter comes from deep within and leaves him lightheaded as it goes out. Freddie seizes the moment to grab both of Danny's wrists at once and holds him in place, by counteracting Danny's advances and yanks with opposing force.

"Fine, fine, I give up, Freddie, Jesus, you gonna break me if you keep that up." There's isn't real heat behind Danny's words, though. This is all said in giggles an huffs of laughter.

"You hereby surrender to your one and true leader, then?"

"Never!" Says Danny and twists one of his arms free, using the momentum of surprise to grab Freddie's hand, and using his own free one to put Freddie into a headlock.

"Shit, where did you learn that one, Danny, my man?! Fuck!"

"Please, you're an only child, you have zero experience with tickle fights."

"What do you mean tickle fights?" Freddie has a wide-eyed thing going on, an barely finishes voicing his concern, before Danny starts tickling him on his neck, with the same hand that has him on a headlock. With the other, he makes advances towards Freddie's armpits and general chest area.

Freddie uses his last-resort self-defense move and just melts into the ground, sliding against Danny's arms and legs like an overcooked spaghetti. He's gasping and laughing at the same time. A fruitless effort into regaining composure. Danny falls to his knees besides Freddie, balancing himself on his chest, noting how hot Freddie's sweatshirt is beneath his hand.

And then it's like the whole world shifts around them. The washing area disappears into the background, the stars above seem brighter, and the moon acts as a spotlight. Freddie locks eyes with Danny, and Danny grabs Freddie's sweatshirt so hard, it bunches up under his palm once Freddie finally straightens and sits up on the dirt, exposing slivers of the chest and tummy beneath. Freddie looks from Danny's eyes to his lips, as a little bit of tongue peaks out, and Danny can feel little pebbles digging into his knees as he leans into Freddie. What comes next only feels like a natural progression of everything they've done together for the past three months.

Freddie's lips are soft against Danny's, and he can smell Freddie's cologne, under all the sweat and dirt of a fun day at the park. He's about to take it a bit further, running his tongue ever so gently on Freddie's bottom lip, when there's some rustling behind him, a shocked gasp and Freddie punches the daylights out of him.

"Get off of me, you fucking faggot!"

He can taste blood and he can taste dirt. Where there used to be a tender warm pressure on his lips, there's the jolt of the cold of night and swelling. Before he knows it, one of the scouters, whoever found them, is grabbing him by the arm and yanking him up into his feet. He's a bit dazed, but even through the fog in his mind, he can spot Freddie's wild eyes, right behind the scouter. Freddie's lips are still moving, and even though he doesn't want to, he can still hear him over the ringing of his ears call him every dirty name under the sun that roughly translates to fag and pussy.

The Scoutmaster shakes him again and it knocks some sense into Danny, or at least enough survival instinct to start denying anything and everything Freddie is saying. No, he did not force himself on Freddie, they were just horsing around, no, he does not know why Freddie punched him. No, he is not gay, so "stop touching me you stupid fucker! Or are you into kids now?!" Freddie lunges at him again and he has to defend himself this time, because the Scoutmaster sure as shit ain't doing anything to stop Freddie. Danny manages to kick Freddie on the knee before he grabs him again, but in the hustle he also looses his footing and ends up on the ground, flat on his ass, hands at his sides and the will to fight leaves him at once. Freddie is grabbing his knee for dear life and cursing under his breath like a sailor.

It must be all the swearing and the yelling match they had before that attracts the Cubmaster and Pauley to the fight. The Cubmaster takes one look at Danny, Freddie and the shell-shocked look on the Scoutmaster and calls it a night. Pauley goes to assist Freddie and the Cubmaster kneels next to Danny, asking about what happened. In all honesty, Danny doesn't know what or even how to answer that.

#10

After all is said and done, things are both simple and complicated. The Cubmaster ends up calling his parents from a public pay phone that's that's halfway to the exit gate. His parents are to pick him up now, as in now, in the middle of the night even though they're a two-hour ride away. Freddie gets a pass (as far as Danny's concerned that's what it is) because he's the 'injured party', and he has a spotless record and is on track to get his Life patch, whatever that means. What pisses off Danny the most is that Freddie is not the one sporting a split lip; he'll have a sore knee tomorrow, tops.

The Cubmaster, his name turns out to be Eddie, just like his dad. And oh, god, his dad, his mother! what the hell is he going to tell them, what are the scouters going to tell them. No, no. One terrible step at a time, he chides himself and straightens his back.

Eddie, the Cubmaster, helps him gather his stuff, the Scoutmaster and Pauley, keep all prying eyes away from him and his very, very, very shameful affairs. Once he has all his gear (and he really hopes he hasn't forgot a thing, because there's no way he's going to be able to get them back), Eddie grabs a flashlight, a bottle of water, some sandwiches that some kid put together and walks him to the entrance of the park. The memory of having to walk past forty-odd curious eyes (and a few of them charged with disgust and contempt) will be etched into his memory by the blazing fire of embarrassment and injustice for the rest of his life, he just knows it.

Once they get to the entrance, there's nothing left but hope time passes quickly. Watching the moths fly into the false hope of the flashlight helps him take his mind off of things. Sort of.

#11

After forty minutes of waiting or so, there's movement up the road and the night is clear enough that Danny can make out the silhouette of his Pop's truck approaching in a scurry of dust. He assumes his dad is the one driving, and there's someone on the front seat and Danny shudders to think whether it would be his Ma or somebody else. For a second he thinks it might be Freddie's dad and a cold shiver slices him front to back, making him feel weak in the knees. He buries his hands deeper into his jacket's pockets.

Once the truck stops, he can discern that the passenger is no other than his older sister, Stella, and alright, he would've preferred Ma, because that way he would've gotten yelled at in stereo for two hours straight all the way back to the house, and that would've probably been the end of it. If it's his Pop and big sis, then things are bad enough, or indescribable enough, that he won't get yelled immediately or at all, and the waiting and the not knowing make it so much worse.

When nobody gets off the truck, the Cubmaster approaches his dad through the window, he says a couple of words and there's a pause, as Pop exchanges a look with Stella. The Cubmaster makes way for his dad to get off the truck and Stella gives a stunned look at Danny through the windshield. She blinks her big baby-blues at him and scrambles off the truck, eating up the distance to Danny with quick definitive steps.

"Let me look at you, Danny," she says, tilting his face into the car headlights and hissing once she's able to fully appreciate the split at the corner of his lower lip. He's afraid to look into her eyes, but he does so anyway and wishes he hadn't. The light pours around her face like a halo, and through it all, he can see the pity in her eyes and immediately his chin trembles into a pout and he has to swallow a few times around the knot in his throat to stop himself from crying. Stella puts a tentative hand on his shoulder, gives him one last look and envelops him in a fierce hug that only a big sister could do.

In the meantime, the Cubmaster is having a quiet conversation with Pop. It sort of amazes Danny that this thing is so quiet in the middle of nowhere at this horrible time of night. Who are they going to bother, sleeping lizards? A part of him wishes both the scouter and his dad were yelling at the top of his lungs, red in the face and sweaty; his dad doing that arm-waving thing he does when he's truly and utterly angry. But they're not, it's all hushed conversation and thoughtful nods at the end. They finish with a firm handshake. (How civil, the demise of his life as he knows it, and nobody has the decency of put in the energy and drama he thinks it deserves). The Cubmaster doesn't even bother to say goodbye to Danny or Stella. His sister, on the other hand, takes it as her cue to put a hand at Danny's back and lead him into the truck on the back seat, next to his huge backpack, sliding it securely next to Danny. Danny ended up sitting right behind Stella and with a vantage point of view of his dad's face once he gets on the truck.

His Pop yanks the door open, slides in and slams the door closed. Not looking at either of them. He does a relaxed U turn at the gates of the park, like he didn't just drove to the middle of nowhere for almost two hours to pick up his son, and off they go.

Danny both wants and doesn't want to ask what the Cubmaster said. But everything is too quiet. The radio doesn't pick up any frequency this far out of the city and neither Stella nor Pop are saying anything. His sister alternates furtive looks from their Pop's face to the expanse of darkness outside.

Once they hit the asphalt of the highway, there's not a single other car in sight, and Danny catches his dad looking at him over the rear-view mirror. "Put your seatbelt on, Daniel," his Pop says and a second later he's peeling away from the dirt road into the direction of their home.

The fact that his Pop just called him 'Daniel' is in itself cause for concern; he only calls him by his name when something big is going on, usually because he's mad at him, or terribly disappointed in him. His mind wanders straight into the one time he was sure his father was going to disown him and can't quite contain the tears that keep lurking at the edge, one fat droplet runs down his left cheek and he wipes it away harsh enough to leave a red mark on his skin, right beneath the eye. His stomach churns and twists itself tighter and tighter with every passing minute. Up ahead, after maybe thirty minutes of silent driving, he can see the headlights of and oncoming car. It's a light-colored sedan that comes and goes with a muted swish as it goes past them. The only sound outside their own breathing and chaffing of clothes to fill up the space since they picked him up.

#12

It's a bit more than an hour later and his eyes prickle like crazy, a tear catching on his eyelashes as he tries to blink himself back to neutral. But it's impossible; he keeps seeing Freddie behind his eyelids, as he closes the distance between them and kisses him on the lips. Another wave of embarrassment hits him from the chest and spreads up, making his cheeks blush a deep crimson, giving him no other choice than to turn his head towards the window, forcing himself to focus on what's outside and beyond the mess of the situation. How the hell did this happen?

The truck comes to a sudden stop and Danny realizes with a start they're in front of the house. His Pop still won't look at him, but hasn't turned off the ignition either, so Danny stays rooted to his spot, head bowed and hands at his sides, the only thing audible is the rumble of the truck, the vibrations keeping Danny in the present. Stella does pretty much the same, looking straight ahead into their house. Then, that too stops as his Pop takes the keys off and unbuckles his seatbelt. Danny's head snaps up, looking for his Pop's eyes, a sign, something, anything that means he's not about to leave without even acknowledging Danny, but if his father can't even bring himself to yell at him, to look at him, then… fuck it, fuck it all. Danny hits the button of his seatbelt and opens the door at the same time, getting out of the truck so fast he almost makes himself dizzy. His feet hit the pavement and gain speed as he gets closer to the house, his Ma' comes to the door but he barges in and runs for his bedroom, his Ma' and Stella calling his name behind him.

He runs up the stairs and dives for his room. It's already past midnight and it is a testament to how much he has upset their household life that Mattie is still up, not even in his PJs, sitting on his own bed, paging through a magazine, lollipop dangling from his mouth.

Danny storms through the door and Mattie's eyes go wide in shock, and then fear.

"Danny, your face! What happened?! Why are you crying? Who hit you?!" Mattie's kneeling on the bed now, gripping the foot frame hard, magazine and lollipop forgotten and fallen to the floor.

Danny can't even begin to explain what happened, much less to his younger brother. Another wave of shame hits him, like a bucket of ice inside his stomach and he can't help it anymore, the tears roll down freely as he covers his face with both hands and sits down hard on the floor in the space between his bed and the wall, turning his back to Mattie.

Mattie jumps out of bed and runs out of their bedroom. "Mom! There's something wrong with Danny, Mom! Mom!"

Danny keeps on sobbing into his hands, until the warm softness of his mother's embrace hugs him from the side and rocks him a little, much like she has done for every one of her children since they were born. He doesn't know how long they spend like that, but it's enough that his shuddering sobs settle down for a sniffle every once in a while. His Ma pouring kisses at the top of his head.

"I didn't mean to scare Mattie." Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth and not at all what he needs to say. He wants to apologize for everything he's put them through, ever; setting fire to the backyard, leaving Mattie alone for an hour one night, so he could go smoke a joint with some friends, stealing beer from the house and then letting Stella take the fall, falling in love for a boy. He sniffles again for good measure and swallows back the sobs that threaten to come back again.

"Oh, Danny. Come here." She rocks him with renewed conviction and gives him a kiss on his forehead. "I love you, honey. I do. Please don't cry anymore, you're breaking my heart, sweetheart. Calm down and tell me what happened instead."

"I'm sorry—" He starts sobbing again. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

"Shh, baby, what are you sorry for?" She rests her head on top of Danny's and stills. No more rocking.

"I— I— I can't say it, Ma." She starts drawing circles on his shoulder and part of his back, so he focuses on that. "I'll change, I promise I'll be better, I swear, just don't make me say it, please." She hugs him tighter.

"Shh, it's alright, calm down. I'm not mad at you, hone. Calm down. How about I tell you what I think happened, okay?" He nods, because even if it is a bit of an indignity to have his mother spell out his wrongdoings for him, it's also something he thinks he needs to hear. "I think you and Freddie had a great summer, and you became friends by doing a lot of things together and sharing similar interests, a lot like your father and I did when we were young. And then something happened at camp that made you want to try something new." Danny squirms under her arms and squeezes his eyes shut. He was wrong, he doesn't want to relive this, ever again. "And then Freddie felt ashamed and lashed out at you for it. Am I close?" He nods again, hanging on to his mother's arms like life depends on it. "And then he blamed you for it?" He nods as hot tears run down his face, he still doesn't open his eyes. "Oh, Danny, I'm so sorry. My beautiful boy, that shouldn't have happened." He bawls his eyes out. A moan gets ripped out of his chest and hurts his throat on the way out.

His Ma rocks him from side to side again. Holding him in her arms with a firm but gentle touch, shushing him from above, dropping kisses on top of his hair every now and then, until his tears dry up and he sighs deep and lets it all out in one shivering breath.

"I thought you were going to yell at me. I thought you were going to be mad," Danny says after a while, feeling small and torn up inside.

"Danny, we've never said anything, but I think you're old enough now, and maybe you should have known sooner. Do you remember my brother Rudy?" Danny nods with downcast eyes, trying to loose himself on the patterns of the floor.

"Didn't he went to Europe or something?"

"Well, yes, but more important," she says, inhaling so deep, Danny can feel the rise of her chest and it makes him breathe deeply too. "My brother is gay. Do you know what that means?" She punctuates every word with a gentle press of her hands against his chest, still hugging him from the side. Her voice next to his ear.

"Uh-huh."

"Okay, so, he was gay, and he took a lot of shit for it— I know, I know, swearing is bad for the soul, but that's the right way of saying it. So just between you and me, I'm gonna swear a lot telling this story, okay?" A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. His Ma was the one that taught him how to properly swear, how to string word after word into a filthy sentence, there's not a thing he has learnt about being an 'insufferable' boy, that his Ma didn't teach him.

"So, as I was saying, he's gay. He took a lot of shit. Kids pestered him constantly at school, and grandpa did too. Everybody felt so offended because he didn't care for baseball or football or none of those things. He liked playing the piano—" And yeah, he has a faint memory of that. Brown pants and shiny shoes at his grandpa's house. A wide smile and hair being ruffled. His hair.

"I remember that."

"Yeah, when you were little he used to sit you on his lap and play the piano for you, for Stella too." Danny's mother remembers it with fondness on her heart. The first time she caught him doing it her heart soared. "Anyway, he didn't like things that boys are supposed to like and that made assholes like the kids at school angry and confused. People don't like not knowing, so when they don't understand they get angry, Danny. Rudy had an awful time in school because he was different and we didn't even know what gay meant back then, he was just, different, nothing else. And then one day he sat me and uncle Sal down, and said, 'Clara, Sal, I prefer man. You either take it or you leave it, but if you don't accept me I'm gone.' He didn't say this to anybody else. Just me and Sal. And it was hard at first to try and understand, but then we realized he was just… Rudy, the same funny, silly Rudy, with his awful pranks and terrible at math, always happy, always quick to help, just my brother." Her hair tickles Danny on his neck and ear. He leans a bit more on her. He thinks he knows where this is going. "Just like you will always be my son, my beautiful Danny, the light of my eyes, one of the four reasons I wake up every morning with a smile on my face… You get what I'm saying, kiddo?" It was like seeing the first sun-rays of spring after a cold, gloomy winter. He sighs.

"Yeah."

"No, don't give me none of that teenager yeah-yeah. I mean it, Danny. I love you, with all my heart, always, as soon as I knew I was expecting you I started loving you. You're mine, honey, I will always, always, always love you, no matter what, and I'll protect you to the best of my ability. I'm always cheering for you. Always. And if it wasn't terribly frowned up, I would punch Freddie right on the nose for hurting my baby, you got it?" He chuckles at the image, he doesn't put it past her to get petty revenge some other way. He nods his understanding and immediately turns to properly hug his Ma, even if it means almost sitting on her lap like the little kid he isn't anymore.

"I'm still sorry." He has to swallow back the tears that threaten to make an appearance again.

"Nothing to be sorry about." She presses her hands on the sides of his face an makes it as if she's washing it, caressing his hair back and out of his face. "Now, we are going to go into the bathroom and I'm gonna get that lip taken care of. Then we're going down, you're eating something and off to bed. How's that sound?"

There's a faint knock on the door and Mattie appears there, hanging to the door knob awkwardly and insecure. Barefoot and on his jammies. Stella or Dad must have changed him.

"Is Danny okay, Ma? Can I hug him too?"

"Sure thing, bro, c'mere," says Danny, opening his arms big and wide for the eight year-old goof he has the honour of calling his brother. Mattie doesn't waste a second as he dashes through the room and almost knocks the air out of Danny when he throws himself at him. At the corner of his eye, Danny can see his Ma wiping a tear on her cheek with the hem of her t-shirt and when she notices him noticing her, she smiles her sweet smile and for a moment, Danny thinks everything is going to be okay.

#13

Mattie has been put to bed and his Ma has marched him to the bathroom down the hall. Downstairs he can hear the faint voices of his Pop and big sister, probably in the kitchen, and it stirs up some nasty feelings he very much wants to ignore, except he can't, not really.

She has him sitting down at the edge of the tub, face tilted upwards as she dabs a cotton ball on Betadine.

"Ma, do you think Pop is mad at me?"

She frowns. "What makes you say that?"

"He… he didn't say anything to me the whole way. It was like I didn't even exist. Not even Stella." He unconsciously bites his lip and flinches as the pain shoots up. "He's ashamed of me, isn't he?"

His mother slumps her shoulders and sits down on the toilet, managing to keep the Betadine from dripping on the floor.

"Danny, your dad, he's…." She slumps further. And Danny thinks he doesn't have it in him to see his Ma defeated, not like this. "You know how people always say you and Gina are so much like me, and Stella, like dad?" He nods. "Well, you, Gina, and I, Danny, we feel, we feel a lot and we show it, if we're shocked, or angry, or happy, or sad, or anything at all, we say it, we name it, we explode if we have to, and we don't give much thought to that, right? We just go ahead and take the risk, trusting that we'll be on good hands once we get to the other side. Dad and Stella? Not so much, the ruminate on things; they'll think it over and over again. Until your dad gets an ulcer and needs to be poked and prodded into going to the doctor, yeah?"

Danny nods, once. And his Ma continues talking. "They feel too, don't get me wrong, very deep and private, and it takes them a while to get their feelings sorted and out to the surface. You notice how they don't say much, until they actually say something and it's like four words and we all stay quiet, because, my god, the things they say? Were we run and dive head first hoping to get across just fine, they test the waters, practice on the shore, and then carefully dive in and cross the lake at first try. Does it make sense?"

Danny shrugs one shoulder and contemplates the mirror behind his mom. "Guess so."

"Your dad wants you to know that he loves you, and that he's proud of you, always, but he doesn't know how to say it yet. He's shocked, Danny, but don't confuse that with not loving you, or being angry, okay? Give him some space, let him test the waters; he loves you, he hasn't processed all this yet. At least give him the benefit of the doubt until he can say it better, yeah?"

"Okay." He whispers back, tilting his head into the light. His Ma goes to work on his lip then, it stings a little at first, the cleaning, and then the antiseptic, but he's glad when his Ma declares no butterfly stitches will be necessary.

After that, it takes a few days for Stella to warm up to him again, give him a fierce bear hug and say "I've got you, lil' bro." And at least another week for his Pop to take him out on a drive to some bullshit grocery run and tell him that he loves him, no matter what. They have ice-cream and talk baseball after that.

#14

"You doing alright there partner?"

Danny blinks himself back to the present, the Boy Scouts a distant memory getting farther and farther away by the millisecond, as he emerges, Ka'a'wa Valley comes into focus at a distance to his right. He has no idea how long he zoned out.

They're on the back of a cruiser, on their way to the hospital to get Danny checked out. There was a brief argument about whether Steve should go to Tripler himself or not, because of the blow to his forehead, but then a police officer who had been a nurse at some point in the past, did a neuro check and got him off the hook, while also being adamant that Danny should definitely go to the hospital and get antibiotics, at the very least. Danny's fate was sealed; Steve was just coming for the ride into town and an opportunity to rile Danny up on the way.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, you know?"

"Yeah, right back at ya. So, you gonna tell me how you manage to get kicked out of Boy Scouts, or what?"

The Likelike Highway is pleasantly deserted and the city is coming up fast, if they keep up their speed they'll be at Queens in fifteen minutes. Danny looks up front, to the back of the head of the officer. Steve's kinda Danny's boyfriend, but they still don't want the world to know and this is not one of those stories he wants to share with everybody either, just Steve.

"Fine, but—" Steve rolls his eyes, making him stutter a bit on his laying down of the conditions. "But, you have to go with me to the hospital, I'll go insane if I have to wait alone on those stupid chairs."

Steve huffs a laugh and grabs his own belly, smile spreading well into his eyes, making the gauze on his forehead crinkle around the tape.

"Of course, Danno, I got you covered."

Danny can't help but to smile back.

"Alright then, it all started with this guy, Frederick Johnson, actually no, it started with his uncle being my Pop's brother-in-arms at the firehouse, those two where like this." He crosses his fingers on one hand to show Steve.

"Close."

"No, more than close, you know, brothers-in—"

"Arms. Got it."

"So, they had this thing, like a barbecue? And there I was bored out of my mind and miserable, because, you know, I was a teenager, what you gonna do about that, am I right? Then this kid walks in, his uncle had him by the back of his neck, nothing rough, but you know, like saying, look at this punk. Anyway, he marches him down to the middle of the station and gets the attention of other firemen around and presents him as Freddie, his nephew, the kid who almost burnt down his entire troop at the last overnight camping trip and a hush falls into the room, because…"

"Don't fucking play with the fucking fire."

"Yeah, well put, babe. So, that's Freddie, and he and I became friends…."


FINAL NOTES:

a) Thank you for reading, really hope you enjoyed it.

b) That "James kid" the scouters talk about refers the "Boy Scouts of America Vs. DALE" case: The Boy Scouts of America revoked former Eagle Scout and assistant scoutmaster James Dale's adult membership when the organization discovered that Dale was a homosexual and a gay rights activist. In 1992, Dale filed suit against the Boy Scouts, alleging that the Boy Scouts had violated the New Jersey statute prohibiting discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation in places of public accommodation. The Boy Scouts, a private, not-for-profit organization, asserted that homosexual conduct was inconsistent with the values it was attempting to instil in young people.