I gotta say this is the longest one I've made without any mention or dialogue of Stitch in it, just saying. Although Lilo is mentioned here once.
Chapter 4
The ringing — he knew it. Recognized the bells. The alarm clock sitting on the counter. That's when instinct finally kicked in.
Heckler jolted. His eyes flew open, and he was breathing heavily, sheening with sweat. The clock's chime had broken the bonds of his terrible nightmare.
Even when he sat up to draw in more air, Heckler still found himself gasping. His stomach knotted as images from the nightmare latched onto his mind. Bad memories lingered. He tried to relax. And slowly, he did, clearing away the dense misted veil of an unsavory dream.
"Oh—what a nightmare!" Heckler shivered. He tossed away his bedspread and scanned the room in earnest, just to be sure. There was no one else with him, and so he took a moment to soak in the surroundings of reality.
After months of saving and hard work, Heckler was finally able to lease a townhouse, and vacate the old rustic apartment type he previously owned. Truth be told, he did love this one better, especially for its amenities like beige-painted walls and a balcony overlooking the sea. The living room area was quite spacious. It had a brown wooden floor, a fireplace, a three seated leather couch, and a 36" flat screen TV. His kitchen was a bit smaller, but still well furnished with a single door fridge with ice and water dispenser, and a hidden door that let into a bathroom.
Clutching the disheveled hair on top of his head, he let out a groan.
"Thank goodness it was just a dream…there's no way I would have survived all that beating." He exhaled in relief. Even though he knew it was only a nightmare, his subconscious recognized what Heckler tried to doubt — most of the experiments, if not all of them, would probably deem homosexuality unacceptable. Yet, even though humiliation at the hands of his cousins loomed at nearly every turn, Heckler had learned how to be comfortable with himself and his sexual orientation, so much so that lying about being gay had become natural. After all, the first step is always admitting that you actually are what you are, he would tell himself on many occasions.
For sure, Heckler recognized that coming out would not be an easy task, one that came complete with its own set of problems. But, that would be something the cousins would need to come to terms to, whether they'd like it or not. If anyone would really need to know, though…Slick would be the first one to find out. Heckler had determined that early on. There was certainly no way he'd let Slick find out from another source — the mere thought of the rumor mill spoiling it always churned Heckler's stomach.
For all of it to happen perfectly, just as he envisioned, Heckler would need an elaborate scheme, and the exact right moment to confess everything. Perhaps with a little naiveté, Heckler hoped his revelation would not divide, but instead bring the whole ohana closer together despite the differences. Less naively, Heckler knew the chances of that happening were nearly zero.
Lost in his thoughts, silence filled the empty room. A sunbeam poked through gossamer curtains and struck Heckler's eye. He shied away, over to the now quiet clock, and glanced at the time. He jumped out of bed, cursing profusely.
"Its 7:00," he gasped. "I'd better hurry, or I'll be late to my one true place."
Heckler worked at a dunk tank in a carnival provoking people to hit a tiny target — a mostly honest way to earn a living. Heckler was undeniably grateful to have been given a purpose in life, and one that so closely aligned with his innate and burning desire to insult people.
"It's going to be a long day," he grumbled as he made his way to the bathroom door, and leaped into the shower. Not long after, he threw on the standard red T-shirt with the phrase "DUNK ME!" plastered on the front. He hurriedly grabbed his backpack and keys, and dashed out of his home.
"I'd better not forget to lock the door again, Lilo reminded me three times already…don't want to give her the satisfaction of a fourth. I just can't stand it when I'm instructed. It's like telling a dog to lay here, fetch that..." Heckler huffed. He inserted the key and the tumblers clicked, which elicited a dampened sigh from the experiment. "Who am I kidding… I wish someone were here to remind me every day."
By the time he reached the fairgrounds, the sunlight was bright, the typical Kaua'i day. Heckler was waved on by security with a "Go on kid" from the guard, and he bolted through the entrance. Ahead stood the large, round, transparent tank, already set up for the day's work. The original dunk tank was a rickety mess that threatened a nasty tetanus infection with each game. Thankfully, Jumba had carved out some time to work on it. Now clean and sleek, Heckler felt much more comfortable plunking down into the tiny seat atop the clear water. A plastic shield guarded him to make sure nobody who dared could unduly pelt the tank's occupant.
He ran toward the back to prepare for work.
"Morning Heckler, how's your day going? Whoa! Tense much? Looks like you could use some encouragement," offered Jeff, concern thick in his voice.
Jeff, Heckler's friend and co-worker, stood around 5'8", and in his late 30's. He was a far more competent salesman than Heckler, and Jeff earned his keep by bringing in the customers, encouraging them to dunk Heckler — which, when Heckler was warmed up, was not an exceedingly difficult task to accomplish.
"Hey, I'm fine," Heckler returned with a smile. "Wait—hold on, how many customers are already waiting?"
"None actually. In fact, you got here before everyone else. Well done kid!" he commended
A little laugh escaped Heckler's belly. "Hey, thanks Jeff…and sorry for being tense, I'll tell you all about it later."
"Oh sure, no worries. Anything to help a friend like you." Heckler's cheeks flushed, and he hid his head while he walked to the tank.
He hoisted himself up the ladder and took his position while Jeff managed to snag a handful of customers. He couldn't contain his excitement at the prospect of ridiculing passersby. Over time, he had learned how to control his insults and target them, in stark contrast to the scattershot approach he had taken upon activation. Nonetheless, he felt the same thrill course through his nerves.
"Hey Folks," boomed Jeff's salesman voice, "you wanna know how good you can hit? Then come on out and try dunking this little guy if you can for only 4 dollars per ball. That's right, just 4 dollars a ball. Come on, show 'em what you're made of and knock him down!"
Occasionally, Heckler jumped in to assist. "Alright people, who wants a piece of me? Just read what's on my shirt and you'll know what to do."
To coerce some suckers to try the dunk tank, Heckler launched his first insult of the day at a bespectacled and freckled lady with gleaming gray braces.
"Hey lady, you're so ugly, you'd make a freight train take a dirt road!" She flinched but walked on by. Normally, Heckler would spend a few minutes staring into his bathroom mirror, running a few lines and seeing how they delivered. Cold turkey, he had noticed, usually didn't fare so well.
But he did warm up, slower than usual. He scored his first client, a tanned gentleman with a muscular build sporting a sapphire blue Mohawk, with an improvised ditty set to one of his personal favorites, "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star."
"Hey there big head with blue hair,
hope there's still a brain in there,
But I doubt that would be so,
Cuz you dropped that long ago."
Twenty dollars' worth of balls and two more verses later, Heckler was still dry.
A spoiled bratty girl whined her way to two misses. Displeased with her own performance, she gave Heckler an undue raspberry as she dragged her father toward the candy vendor. "Hey Daddy, didn't you read the sign up front? Don't feed the animals!"
She was quickly followed by a jersey-wearing jock who couldn't come up with a good comeback to his insults. "Don't worry, someday you'll say something smart— evolution's just a slow process," Heckler shouted after his flailing mad client.
A lady who had caked on a tad too much make-up had a few bucks to burn. "Hey gorgeous, Bozo the clown called, he needs his face paint back for the three-ring circus act." She laughed, surprisingly enough, and then promptly missed.
Even a female tourist visiting the island was not spared from his rampage. "Y'know, brains aren't everything in this world. But in your case, they're nothing!" He burst out laughing when her throw went wild and slammed into his plastic shield.
The insults went on and on, tossed out at the short and the tall, the old and the young, practically every visitor to the island fair. The anticipation built as the person threw each ball, the suspense in seeing if it would hit nearly unbearable. Heckler sat there and almost braced himself each time. It was fun in its own way.
But, the fun would run out, as the sunset was fast approaching. So far only a total of three participants managed to hammer home a bull's eye and put Heckler in the water. They included a seven year old boy, a thirty year old blonde woman sporting a sun hat and, most shockingly, a frail old lady who must have been either extremely lucky or a talented baseball player in another life.
"Take that you knucklehead!" The old lady rejoiced after sending him plunging in the gelid water — Jumba's upgrades had included a coolant system to keep the water frosty under the hot Kaua'i sun.
"Hmm, that old lady threw better than I expected," Heckler murmured as he climbed out of the tank. The old lady escaped any further commentary from him, lest he quickly be put back in the water.
He saved the last insult of the day for a hairy man wearing a sleeveless undershirt who tossed a few lazy pitches. "Whoa! Good to know I wasn't the furriest one at the fair today."
Once Jeff announced the hairy man would be the last customer of the day, the crowd finally dispersed, eagerly bounding toward the other attractions. The experiment hopped down from his seat and plodded over to Jeff, who was picking up some stray litter strewn about the ground.
"Now that is what I call hard work!" Heckler exclaimed while wiping his face with a towel that had been slung over the side of the tank. "So Jeff, if you be so kind as to hand me my backpack, I think I'll be heading home."
"Hold on there!" Jeff showed Heckler his palm. "You forgot to tell me why you were so tense this morning. Come on, spit it out."
Heckler paused, feeling a little bit uneasy. He looked into Jeff's surprisingly soulful eyes. Though they had seemed a bit glossy as of late, in the setting sun they gleamed with a keen intellect, and Heckler knew he wouldn't be able to lie to Jeff.
"Umm, well I don't know how to put this, but…" he stared at a crushed Styrofoam cup Jeff had missed on the ground and watched its cracked lip flutter gently. Heckler needed a deep breath, but eventually and nervously, he turned on his heel to face Jeff.
A pat on his shoulder surprised the experiment. "Well, what is it?" Jeff filled his voice with light-heartedness, an obvious friendly concern. Heckler wondered how long Jeff could keep that concern alive should he divulge the truth. It had him pacing back and forth, trying to string together the right words to explain everything. Jeff and his soulful eyes simply encouraged Heckler to continue.
"Okay…here goes," Heckler sighed, then spilled everything out in a slow but garbled voice. "You see, I'm in love with…someone of the same gender, a salesman working for charity." He took a deep breath as the Styrofoam cup skittered away with a short burst of wind. He, too, had begun to feel lighter. "So last night I almost told him my secret, but then I got so nervous that I lied to him, and now I'm not even sure he's going to like me when he finds out I'm not into girls at all, and…and if you don't approve of any of this, then just go..." his words were losing their footing, "dive in a pool or something." He angrily crossed his arms and wheeled away from Jeff.
A slight but noticeable pause seized the air as Jeff took a step back. His hands waving, Jeff said, "Woah, woah buddy, calm down, easy there, you didn't even bother to wait for my response"
"I already know what you'd tell me. You'd call me a freak or a hoe for falling in love with a guy. By now you'd probably…I dunno, smack me for saying those things."
Jeff knelt, eyes level with Heckler's. The experiment, normally so quick on his feet, suddenly felt lost. He could sense his fluency evaporating — more from the fear of Jeff's response more than anything. Heckler, it seemed, cared deeply about Jeff's opinion. So, it came as a great shock to Heckler when Jeff answered, "Don't be silly dude. In fact, the only advice I can give you is to be yourself — don't ever pretend to be somebody you're not. And, you should tell him the truth. I know it hurts to admit you lied to him, but trust me, it's even harder to get somebody's full trust back after you lied to their faces. Like it or not, that's the reality you'd have to face later on."
The shock of Jeff's answer wore off very quickly, and Heckler's words regained their balance, though they took on an edge of frustrated annoyance. "Easy for you to say, you don't have 625 cousins and a scientist who'd be grossed out if they found out you were gay. That, my friend, is a tall order!"
"Well—who cares what they think! If you love Slick the way you do, then who are they to stop you?"
In the middle of Jeff's imparting of wisdom, a sudden realization struck Heckler. He blinked confusedly, and his arms dropped to his sides. His voice was meeker, calmer. "…so you won't call me names, like fag, girly boy or rainbow bunny?"
Jeff appeared almost offended. "No! I certainly haven't, and I don't plan to anytime soon. I'd like to think I'm not some cruel soul who gets excited by criticizing others for something like this. I swear — I'm not lying to you," he affirmed while drawing a cross on his chest with his finger.
Shame overwhelming poured into Heckler, replacing the fleeing anger. The ground became his focus, as he couldn't bear to look into Jeff's eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you."
A pat on the head. Heckler allowed himself a smile as Jeff spoke. "It's alright, no need for apologies!"
"Phew, I thought for a second there, I was going to lose another friend!" he let loose, the smile building.
"Well…" Jeff began slowly, his voice venturing into murkiness. "It looks like we both have our problems."
Heckler shrugged. "I suppose we do…." Words caught in Heckler's throat again as he noticed Jeff's incredibly serious expression. "But wait, Jeff…what's your problem?"
"Don't tell anyone about it. You see, I've never told anyone outside of my family about this, but for you, I'll make an exception. You need to promise me, though, to keep it a secret, okay?"
Heckler nodded eagerly in approval. "I assure you my lips are sealed tight."
Still kneeling, Jeff leaned in and quietly whispered into Heckler's ear. "I'm…sick."
"Sick? Like, the flu, or…."
Heckler knew it was serious. He hoped it wouldn't be, that Jeff would tell him it was the flu — a nasty bout of it, maybe, but something that would end soon. But Heckler knew, deep within himself, it would not be the case. When Jeff whispered again, the sounds burned the edges of Heckler's ears.
"How long?" Heckler replied softly, cocking his head to one side, holding it together as best as he could.
"Well, since about a year ago. Genetic anomaly, I found out. It all began when my grandmother died of colon cancer two years ago. I don't tell many people about it because it could cause them a lot of pain and sadness. Thankfully, I'm now in remission, I'm feeling better every day. And I'm positive that my next checkup on Saturday will be the last for a long time."
Heckler wanted to ask more — he had so many questions, and potentially very little time. But, immediately after entrusting Heckler with this great secret, Jeff turned his wrist and tapped his watch's face. "Well, I think I should be heading home, it's getting late."
Heckler managed a response, even if it sounded somewhat surprised. "Yeah…I think you're right." They began walking in opposite directions, and Heckler nearly had to shout when he thought of how to conclude. "Well, good luck on Saturday — I really hope it goes well, Jeff!"
"Thanks little buddy, and remember what I told you — be yourself!" Jeff smiled brightly and waved, then turned around and was quickly out of Heckler's sight.
Heckler stood in place, admiring the warm magenta of the setting sun. A beautiful sight he had not really watched in quite some time. He waited for a while, in no particular rush to head home. He was happy for the moment alone. And though Jeff was gone, his words lingered in humid evening breeze. "Be yourself…yeah, alright, thanks Jeff. I'll try."
