Heaven Can't Wait (6 page)

Okay, so Brian could see how, in a weak moment, when an opportunity was pushed in your face like that, especially if you were drunk—which Chuck wasn’t—it might be something a straight guy would give in to. But that kind of naked yearning? What was up with that? Brian willed himself back to the white waiting room. “Brutus! Hey, Brutus! Anyone!”

Brutus appeared. “Yes, Brian?”

“Is there a way for me to remember things? Like that review video I saw of the, um, the first day I met Kevin. Can I review shi—stuff like that from my lifetime at will? There’s something I need to know about my friend Chuck.”

Brutus tilted his head as if listening to something. Then he nodded. “Yes, it will be allowed.”

A screen appeared, expanding out of nothing.

“Think about what it is you want to see. If you are allowed to review it, it will appear.”

Brutus vanished.

B
RIAN
THOUGHT
about Chuck. He thought about how they’d become friends when they both joined the football team in middle school. A series of scenes from football practice flashed onto the video screen.

He remembered now. Chuck hated football. His dad had made him go out for it. And their coach was always yelling at Chuck for not using his larger body more, for not being aggressive enough on the field.

“What’s the problem, Chuck? Just go for it and slam the guy,” on-screen Brian said, as they changed in the locker room.

“But what if I hurt someone?” Chuck asked, worried. “Like, what if I paralyzed a guy and had to live with that for the rest of my life? It’s not worth it.”

On-screen Brian rolled his eyes. “Don’t be such a wuss. That shit doesn’t happen in real life.”

And yes, that was Chuck all over. Hadn’t Brian always known that? He looked tough on the outside. It wasn’t even that Chuck was all that huge. It was how he carried himself, the rough shape of his face. But Brian had always known Chuck was a marshmallow inside—insecure too, especially with girls.

The screen showed Brian and Chuck standing by Brian’s locker their senior year. Amy Dillon walked by, giving Chuck an unmistakable look.

“She’s hot for you, bro. Go for it,” Brian said, nudging Chuck.

“Maybe,” Chuck looked away to avoid Brian’s eyes.

Maybe.
Chuck said that a lot when it came to girls. Also,
I’m thinking about it, Could be,
and
Nah, she’s not that great.

Brian had pulled Chuck out on a double date a couple of times. There never seemed to be a second date.

Hopeless,
Brian had told him.
Man, you are hopeless when it comes to chicks.

I’m just picky,
Chuck had said.

And Brian had thought, no, you’re just way too shy, man, and awkward as hell. He’d always figured Chuck was the type of guy who’d hardly date at all, then meet The One on a random Tuesday and be married within a year.

Brian had been a fucking idiot.

The screen flickered and changed to a shot of Brian and Chuck sitting in a blind, freezing their asses off waiting for some deer to come by. Brian recognized it as a hunting trip that’d happened their junior year of high school. Their fathers had become friends, after a fashion. Both their families were big on hunting and fishing, so fathers and sons took a hunting trip together annually. Brian’s dad was an insurance salesman, a big, no-bullshit guy. Chuck’s father owned an automotive parts store. They were good guys, but Chuck’s dad had a hot temper. He was quick to bark orders if Chuck wasn’t moving fast enough or if the boys were dumb enough to let a profanity slip. He wasn’t abusive but he
ran a tight ship
, as he liked to tell Brian’s dad.

But that day in the blind…. On-screen Chuck and Brian looked so young. It made Brian’s heart ache for what had been. He’d had no clue it would all be over in just a few years. He should have treasured it more—his friends, the woods, the snow, everything.

“Hey, Aramis. Can I ask you something?” Chuck said.

Their middle school nicknames. Chuck hadn’t called him Aramis in quite a while. Brian smiled. “Sure, Athos. But only if it makes me forget how fucking cold it is.”

Chuck was silent.

“What, Dude?” Brian urged, blowing on his gloved hands.

“If… if a friend of ours told you he was gay, what would you think?”

Brian exhaled a shocked laugh. “Who are you talkin’ about?”

“No one. I’ve just been thinking about it. I mean, does it really matter who someone likes to… do that with, if they’re your friend?”

“Of course it matters!” Brian looked at Chuck like he was crazy. “I’m not gonna be friends with some guy who wants to bone me. That’s disgusting!”

Chuck flushed. “Just because someone is gay doesn’t mean he wants to bone
you
.”

“Fuck that. I’m not taking any chances. Besides, any guy I would be friends with isn’t gonna be gay. I mean look at Mark Hiller. Think he’s someone I’d want to hang out with? No.”

Mark Hiller was one of the few out guys in school—a strange chess-club kid with orange hair. Chuck didn’t reply.

“Why, is someone we know gay? Is that what you’re sayin’?” Brian pressed, getting worried.

“No, Dude. Never mind. Random thought. Chill.”

“Well don’t be so fucking weird,” Brian said with a huff. He let it go because he wanted to let it go. He didn’t like thinking about it.

Now Brian stood in the white waiting room reliving those minutes. The screen froze on a shot of Chuck looking away, his face laced with disappointment. And maybe it was being in heaven, being free from the constraints of his lifetime, that made Brian suddenly see Chuck clearly. The guy was stuck—in a macho family with a macho dad and friends. His body looked like it belonged in that picture, but inside he was someone else. How hard that must have been for him. And there was Brian and all their friends, constantly making gay jokes, and Chuck not saying a word, probably afraid of giving himself away.

Shit. No wonder Chuck had been more down the past few years, more withdrawn. Brian had been worried about him, had tried to cheer him up, but he hadn’t gone below the surface, hadn’t
seen
.

“Dude,” Brian said, reaching up to touch the screen. “I was the worst friend in the entire world. I’m sorry, man.”

And it suddenly occurred to Brian—maybe it was
Chuck
whose life he had to save, not Kevin.
Holy shit
.

Peter appeared and Brian let out a little yelp of surprise. “Gah! Stop doing that. You need a bell around your neck.”

“Excuse me?” Peter said, his eyes getting wide with warning.

“Forget it. I—look, my friend, Chuck. He’s gay, right?” Brian waved his hand at the screen.

Peter didn’t blink, but the screen changed to a full body shot of Chuck. It looked like a schematic with Chuck on a black screen with a grid, hands out as though he were a 3-D model. His eyes were open and blank; his face, sad.

“See this?” Peter touched Chuck’s head and it zoomed in. A white line map, like a diagram, overlaid the brain. It had symbols and squiggles like something in an ancient language. “Here.” Peter pointed to an area near the center of the brain. The symbol was a spiral, like a curl of smoke.

“The spiral symbol means this body, this brain, is homosexual.”

Brian looked at it, biting his lip. “What does it look like if he’s… normal?”

“Heterosexual? It looks like a rectangle, roughly.”

“You said this
body
. People are really born that way? Gay?”

“Of course they are,” Peter snapped impatiently. “A body’s hormonal response is part of the physical matter of the brain. It’s in the DNA from the first division of cells in an embryo, just like the sound of your laughter, the color of your eyes in the midday sun, and the exact texture of the skin behind your ears.”

“But, why? I mean, it doesn’t exactly serve evolution for people to be born gay.”

Peter graced him with a flat stare. It dragged on, or it felt that way since Peter always did everything instantly. “That is the first intelligent question you’ve asked since you got here.”

“Really?”

“Yes. So I’m going to answer it even though it’s a complete waste of my time. You won’t remember a word of this.”

“Whaddya mean?”

Peter ignored the question. “The physical world,
matter
, exists because of the energy created by the pull of opposites. Day/night, summer/winter, hot/cold, open/closed, water/land, life/death, male/female.”

“Okay,” Brian said, trying hard to follow along.

“But the divine… the divine is in the
middle
,” Peter said it as if it was a huge secret.

Brian looked at Peter blankly. “Like….”

“Dawn and dusk—those are the sacred hours, the time when it is
both
day and night. The body is most comfortable when the temperature is balanced
between
hot and cold. The soul ascends and leaves at the moment
between
life and death. And what is this?” Peter pushed a long, thin finger into the middle of Brian’s nonexistent body.

“Um… my navel?”

“Yes. It’s where the soul enters and exits the body and it’s in the
middle
of your physical shell. So it is with the entire physical world. Something can ascend to the divine from the world of matter,
permanently
—what some cultures call achieving Nirvana—only when it is exactly in the middle.”

Brian was lost now. God was like a belly button?

“Male,
female
,” Peter said leadingly. “When your soul has evolved to the highest level you will be a perfect balance of both sets of attributes—strong
and
nurturing, et cetera.”

Brian shook his head a little. “Are you saying gay people are more divine than normal people?”

Peter sighed. “I didn’t say that. You don’t have to be gay to have a balance of masculine and feminine traits. But usually your soul will live one or more lifetimes in a gay-patterned body in order to help develop dual-gender attributes, among other minor lessons like
tolerance
.” Peter gave Brian a meaningful glare. “Consider it something like a required course. And now I’m done explaining it.”

“But….”

“Oh, take some philosophy classes next lifetime!” Peter snapped. “I’m having over five hundred conversations at this exact moment, and in this one, I’m done!”

Snap.
Peter vanished.

Brand scratched his chin, frowning. Maybe he should take philosophy. That was way over his head. Wait. Did Peter mean he’d get another life? For sure? That was good, right?

Peter reappeared in a blink. He looked a bit embarrassed. “But avoid Nietzsche and Machiavelli. Oh, and you’ve got one day left. Pick up the pace.”

Snap.
He was gone.

W
HEN
K
EVIN
came back to the room, carefully balancing two take-out containers, he found Chuck sitting up on his bed, neatly showered and dressed, with his cast propped out in front of him on a chair.

Kevin smiled. “You look like you’re feeling better.”

“I am.”

“Good. I got a turkey burger and fries and baked chicken. You can have—”

“Put that down for a minute. I worked myself up to talk to you, and I don’t want to, you know, lose my nerve.”

“Okay.” Kevin put the containers on his desk. His hands were shaking and he was suddenly afraid. Was Chuck going to tell him he had to move out? That they were just friends? He’d been too obvious the other night, when he was hurt. Chuck had to have seen how much Kevin wanted him. And now—

“C’mere, Kevin.” Chuck patted the bed next to him.

Kevin reluctantly went over and sat tensely on the edge of the bed.

Chuck didn’t say anything for a while. The silence went on long enough that Kevin snuck a look at him. Chuck was rubbing one hand with the other in an anxious way, and he didn’t meet Kevin’s gaze.

“I’m gay,” Chuck said. He took a deep breath. “You’re the first person I’ve ever told.”

“Oh my God,” Kevin whispered, his self-centered fear immediately replaced by sympathy and, if he were honest, more than a little joy.

Chuck frowned and stared at his hands. “I tried not to be. I tried so hard. My family… it’s really not going to be cool with them.”

“I’m sorry.” Kevin reached out and put one of his hands lightly on Chuck’s. Chuck took it and held tight. He was quiet for a bit.

“I thought I could fight it. I thought I could make myself
look
normal, at least. That no one ever had to know. You know, if I just never did anything. But it’s not worth it, Kev. Because everything’s a lie.”

“I know.” Kevin leaned a little closer. His heart bled for Chuck’s struggling words. Kevin wanted to hug him and tell him it would be okay, but he didn’t want to push. “People just seem to know about me whether I say anything or not. But if I looked like you, I’d probably do the same thing. Try to blend in. It’s not easy to be out. People can be such bastards.”

Chuck finally met his gaze. “I’m so sorry I let them talk to you that way, Kevin. I was just afraid if I said anything….”

“It’s okay. Really.” Kevin smiled. “If there’s anything I can do, Chuck. Any time. I’m… I’m here for you.”

Chuck looked at Kevin for a long moment. Kevin couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“I want to show you something,” Chuck said roughly. He pulled his laptop over from the end of the bed, opened it, and turned it toward Kevin. “This was on my computer this morning. I took a screenshot.”

Chuck opened a jpg. It showed an open email, as if Chuck had been composing a draft. But the sentence in the body of the email was strange.

Dude, kiss him already. B yourself and b happy. Life is short. Miss you, bro. Aramis.

“I don’t get it,” Kevin said.

“I didn’t write this. In middle school me and Brian and another guy used to pretend we were the three Musketeers. I was Athos and Brian was—”

“Aramis,” Kevin whispered.