Kerass walked through the door. His father gave him a hug, which he didn’t reciprocate. For whatever reason, his father’s eyes were glistening.
“I can’t believe you’re here!” he exclaimed hugging him again.
Kerass contemplated patting him on the back, but he just wasn’t ready to cross that boundary yet. Too much had happened for him to just erase years of trauma and heartache.
“Come in, come in!” his father beckoned closing the door behind him.
Looking around, Kerass acknowledged that both little had changed about the house, but then again, a lot had changed. Nothing startled him more than noticing that the Bible was no longer prominent in the living room. In fact no books were on the shelves. Where the Bible had been now sat his high school diploma framed.
He was so touched that he felt a tear fall down his face. It was uncontrollable, but he refused to allow his father to see him cry. Quickly wiping the tear away, he cleared his throat and exhaled trying to quiet his mind.
“Whatcha looking at?”
“Oh, uh…” Kerass stumbled choking on the word, “nothing. Where’s…where’s your Bible at?”
His father looked at him straight in the eyes. Briefly nodding, he stated that it was back on his bedroom dresser. “I felt no need to showcase it anymore. Not after, well, not after you left, but that’s not why you’re here. Please take a seat.”
Kerass sat on the couch cognizant that there was at least one cushion space between them at all times.
“Tell me, how are you?” his father asked exuberantly. “I want to hear everything.”
“I, well, I, uh…” he stammered. “I’ve started going back to church,” he said with confidence.
“What? That’s great! Who’s the pastor there? I’ll give him a call, make sure you’re well cared for.”
“No, please don’t do that. Don’t call him.”
“Why not?”
“I…I just. I don’t think I can do this,” he stood up heading toward the door.
“Why? You just got here,” his father begged. “Please just stay. Let’s talk.”
His hand was on the doorknob. He held his breath, biting his tongue, he tried not to react and just leave, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Can you even say it?” Kerass asked.
“I, I’m not sure what you mean?”
He really didn’t want to have this conversation. Going home for Christmas wasn’t necessarily a mistake, but it certainly was awkward. They hadn’t spoken in four years. Four incredibly long, life changing years. Years that were filled with loss after loss after loss. How was he supposed to catch up on four years of his life? Where was he even supposed to begin? Yes, he was pissed and to be honest he still was, but his father stopped trying to reach out so quickly. Had his father really given up on a relationship that easily? Sure, they never really connected all that much, but he was still his father. Things had changed after he came back to faith, but he just couldn’t bring it to himself to reach out. Would his father ever make a decision like he did with his mother towards him? What had really changed?
“Can you verbalize it for me or are you just going to hide like you’ve always done?”
“What, Kerass?” he replied gingerly. “What do you want me to say?”
“Stop doing that!” Kerass yelled at him. “Being so gentle, so understanding. Don’t make me question whether you’re truly a safe space for me. You’ve known for years that I can’t let my guard down around you for fear of your yelling, your judgement, and worst of all your retaliating actions.”
“I, I don’t know what to say. This must be so hard for you. You may not believe this, but I’ve regretted the decision I made every single day.”
“Don’t give me that shit. I want you to look at me and tell me despite it all that you still care, that you still love me. That you’re proud of me.”
“I’ve always loved you and I’ve never not been proud of you.”
“Don’t,” Kerass said covering his years, shaking his head. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“What do you want me to say?” his father said raising his voice. Even though he had covered his ears he could still hear his father clearly. “You have to be clear. Tell me how to love you.”
“SHUT UP!” he screeched at the top of his lungs. Hot, angry tears effortlessly flowed out of his eyes. His father was silent. Kerass’s breathing quickened. He couldn’t calm himself down.
“Open yourself up to love,” his father whispered placing his hand on his shoulder while he was heaving, sobbing. “Please.”
Jay opened his eyes. The dream had come to him again. It was so vivid, so clear that he started to believe it was a memory, not simply a dream. He had dreamt of Gus again.
Rushing out of bed he grabbed his journal. There was no way this could be mere coincidence. Having the same dream for three nights in a row wasn’t simply happenstance.
Taking deep breaths, he tried to calm himself down. It was stimulating in more ways than one, but he didn’t want to focus on the parts that got him going, but the parts that made him feel connected, special, safe.
It started the same way every time. He looked out his dorm room. It was pitch black. It was the A.M. He should be in bed, but the lampposts around campus illuminated the snow falling briskly. The quad was covered in a blanket of snow. That’s when he appeared, his shape quickly coming real in the glow of the lampposts. There he was, Gus, walking across the quad, beckoning him to come out to him.
He ran in his pajamas neglecting to put on his shoes, but he wasn’t cold. He couldn’t see his breath as he ran across the padded snow to him. Gus picked him up, twirling him around. When they kissed, he kicked up his feet as Gus continued to twirl him.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Gus said gripping him tight.
“Neither could I,” Jay reassured him. The words were always on the tip of his tongue. I forgive you. That’s what he was supposed to say, but he could never get the words out.
“It’s ok,” Gus replied. “You don’t have to say it until you’re ready.”
They lay beside each other underneath a tree watching as the snow fell down. It never reached their faces and their clothes never became wet. It was real without the realism. The perfect romance, connection perfected between them. He had never felt safer in his life.
The sun would break on the horizon, rising majestically, the snow melting away as the flowers from spring arose in seconds. Day turned to night, season to season, he lay beside Gus through it all. Yet the dream quickly became a nightmare for when he looked over at his side, he no longer saw Gus who wanted to hold him closely, he saw Gil and Francis…well, not exactly paying any attention to him focused completely on each other. He would awake with a start beading with sweat.
Writing it down it seemed so obvious what he had to do. Gil and Francis shared a bed and he had a twin bed all by himself in another room entirely. It wasn’t that simple though. He had made a commitment and he hated breaking promises but it was obvious something was wrong. Did Gus feel the connection too or did he just want validation to be with Damien? Was it even fathomable that Gus wanted to be with him like in his dream of pure, unadulterated, blissful intimacy?
He hadn’t the strength to leave, nor the heart to stay. He didn’t see any way out unless Gus or someone else intervened and swept him away. Sleeping with them wasn’t fun. It was purely technical. There was nothing loving or romantic or gentle about it. It was a mistake. That’s why in his dream he and Gus never have sex with each other. They just stay with each other through thick and thin. He hadn’t spoken with Gus since he had asked Jay to forgive him one day. Boy had he messed with Jay’s head. Closing his journal, he went back to bed deciding it was best to skip his 8 A.M. morning class to try and get genuine rest away from Gil, Francis, Gus, and Damien. If only they could stay out of his thoughts long enough so he could get a decent rest.
Cadence bid her mother farewell. What an awful thing to spend Christmas with your child in jail. Her mother had told her she looked so much better, lighter, happier even. She struggled to believe it, but opted to take it as a compliment.
She couldn’t get over the idea that she was a waste, a disappointment as a child, as a human. Why couldn’t she be like those bold women in the Bible? Why couldn’t a god like that reach out to her and love her and embrace her the way that god did? If only that god actually existed then and only then would she be able to forgive herself over what she’d done.
But she didn’t have any hope left in justice or any sense of fairness in this world. She couldn’t say she was outright depressed or pessimistic, but she did feel hopeless. Her life would never get better. She’d never get out of this jail. If only she could be like Rahab or Ruth or Mary Magdalene. Those women weren’t embraced in their time by their cultures but were embraced by the God of Israel. Where was God now? Where had he been this whole time? Why couldn’t he prove himself?
She loved the idea of God, but the idea and the reality didn’t mesh with her. If God did exist and truly loved her and wanted to embrace her, he’d have to give her hope for she had no more strength left and what little she had just to survive she couldn’t waste on hope.
Julia hadn’t visited for a while, but she was visiting family out of town. They had reconciled and she kept reading stories of women in the Bible. Cadence was proud to know the names of so many strong, beautiful women. She had never really studied or even read the text of the Bible so she was thrilled to see so many strong women appear in its words.
The cell door opened startling Cadence. It couldn’t possibly be another visitor on Christmas Eve of all nights.
“Stay calm, Cadence,” the guard commanded as someone else came into the cell wearing orange. The door locked behind them.
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