Spark (15 page)

And not long after that, there were no longer words.

Or even passing glances.

Hugo watched as Kevin and Tricia became the “it” couple everyone in the school talked about.

“They’re so cute together.”

“Can you imagine the beautiful babies they’ll have together?”

“I’m sure they’ve gone all the way by now. Tricia’s been on the pill since she was a sophomore.”

“Oh yeah, he’s totally fucking her.”

Hugo tried to ignore the comments he heard in the halls and near his locker as he loaded his backpack at the end of the day, especially the crude words exchanged in the locker room by guys as they sprayed deodorant and toweled themselves dry. He did everything he could to ignore them, walking fast, leaving rooms, and avoiding talking to certain people.

But all these words seemed to follow him home on a very long leash he thought he’d outrun. When it was quiet and his homework was done, the words would creep into his room and jump up on his bed, clawing at his legs and trying to snuggle into his lap and make a comfortable place to burrow in.

The words hurt whether they were true or not. They hurt because they were proof that Kevin and Tricia were able to show a closeness in public Kevin had never been willing to show Hugo. His relationship with Tricia was socially acceptable. His relationship with Hugo wasn’t. It might never be.

And yet, Kevin had told Hugo that Tricia meant nothing and Hugo meant everything to him. But he was with Tricia now. Not Hugo.

So in the end, Hugo didn’t mean a goddamned thing.

Good-Byes, Lighting Bolts,
& Wordless Gestures

N
EAR
the end of October, Hugo’s dad died. It happened the last day of school before a four-day weekend for the state teachers’ convention. It was a Wednesday.

Only a few minutes after chemistry lab started, the phone rang. Mrs. Odland answered, and her sympathetic gaze immediately latched on to Hugo. He knew exactly what her look meant. The Thorsons had been preparing for this for a long time; the cancer had won.

In the last several weeks, Hugo’s dad had decided to be comfortable at home rather than at Mayo Clinic fighting a hopeless battle. The rest of the family had cut down on work, using sick days and unpaid days off. Everyone knew once hospice was involved things were going to go quickly. They had the rest of their lives to work, but they’d never get the chance to spend those last moments with Hugo’s dad, Jim. His mom had called the school a few times to get an excused absence for Hugo as well. He was already behind on classwork, but that didn’t matter.

Hugo had played cards with his father—gin, progressive rummy, and poker if Charisse joined in. The games allowed them to focus on their cards as they talked about important things. Too much eye contact and they both seemed to clam up. They only had a limited amount of time, and Hugo wanted to hear what his father had to tell him, no matter what it was.

Jim told Hugo how proud he was of him. How he was so sure Hugo was going to be a success no matter what he did. How he only wanted Hugo to be happy and to live his life openly.

Hugo lay beside his dad on the hospital bed set up in their living room, sharing the too-narrow mattress, being careful of tubes, wires, and medical equipment. His father had insisted Hugo come close, lifting his arm so Hugo could burrow into his father’s armpit like he had done during story time as a child. Jim stroked his weakened fingers through Hugo’s dark hair and spoke in a gentle voice.

“When you find your special someone, I want you to make sure you expect him to treat you right. Because no one will treat you how you deserve unless you expect him to. Unless you believe he will.”

Tears came to Hugo’s eyes at the simple way his father told him it was just fine with him that Hugo was gay. Jim knew, even with the physical struggles he’d endured over the last few years. He knew his own son and had seen the realizations Hugo had come to. Jim was okay with Hugo being gay. In fact, it sounded like he was more than okay. He just wanted Hugo to find someone who would treat him right, treat him with respect.

In his last days of life, when he was suffering from increased pain the medications could no longer abate, Jim took the time to comfort his son and give him words of wisdom and strength that would stick with him for life.

So even before Mrs. Odland hung up the receiver, tears were spilling down Hugo’s face. “Hugo,” she said, her voice filled with empathy. Hugo stood, and even with his vision blurred, he saw Kevin standing off to the side, ready to be there to help him. “Yes,” Mrs. Odland said, “Kevin, could you please escort Hugo down to the office?”

Kevin was at his side in seconds, gathering the books Hugo had completely forgotten he had as he walked away from his desk. Hugo was at Kevin’s mercy, not having a clue how to get to the office, as if he were in a brand-new building. Strong, confident hands guided him and showed him the way.

Hugo clung to Kevin, refusing to let go as they entered the office where Charisse waited for him. Everything was a haze, including how he got home. All Hugo knew was that his mom was greeting him at the front door and prying his hand away from Kevin’s, and he heard her questioning Kevin, who answered her quietly in a soothing tone before slipping away.

His father’s body was already gone from the house, but the hospital bed remained. There was a hospice worker cleaning up the dirty linens. His mom directed Hugo past the living room and into the kitchen where a warm cup of something sweet, maybe heavily doctored coffee, was placed in front of him. He sat, and Charisse came into the room and hugged him from behind.

It was a quiet afternoon, even though Mom was occasionally pulled away to make phone calls, answering a myriad of questions. Charisse started talking about the good times they’d had with their father, like the time years prior when they all went fly-fishing and she foolishly decided to wear a dress so she didn’t have to wear sweaty waders and could wear her new polka-dot rain boots instead. Hugo had accidentally gotten his hook embedded in the fabric of her skirt when he cast, still a novice with his technique. When he pulled back on his rod, her panties were exposed to everyone around, which ended up being quite a few people that day. Dad had laughed, finding the entire situation so funny tears came to his eyes. Charisse had stomped off to the truck in her floral skirt and knee-high rubber boots and refused to fish anymore until Dad came to talk to her, coaxing her back to the water in the way only he could.

There were many stories, and each person who came to the house to drop off a hotdish or pan of bars shared their own. Hugo’s father had touched a lot of lives. He was a gentle man who treated everyone he knew with respect and integrity. He quietly helped many along the way and seemed to value the people in his life over all else.

T
HE
visitation and funeral were difficult. Hugo got up and spoke about his father at the service, sharing short stories to demonstrate characteristics he valued in him. He choked up at the lectern in front of half the city of Austin on that Monday morning. As he looked out into the church, he saw people he knew, acquaintances he remembered meeting when he was only a young boy, and complete strangers. He took a few steadying breaths and wiped his eyes dry. His gaze landed on Kevin about halfway back in the large church. He sat next to his mother, who was somber and held a lace-trimmed hanky up to her face.

“Just a few days before he died, my dad told me there was nothing, nothing in the world that would make him not be proud of me. But he left some pretty big shoes to fill.” Hugo looked down at his notes and allowed himself a few seconds to swallow down a thick lump in his throat. “Lucky for me, he wouldn’t mind if I replaced the laces with buckles to make them easier to get into, or even if I were to paint flames or lightning bolts on the sides of his shoes just so I’d believe, like he believed, that I could be anything I wanted. My dad let me be me. And he loved me in spite of all of my faults. And there is no greater gift a father can give to his son or his daughter. Thank you, Dad, for loving… just me.”

Hugo looked up at his last words and saw Kevin wiping tears from his face.

H
UGO
took a few more days after the funeral before he returned to school, not quite ready to get back into the swing of things. By Thursday after the funeral, he was ready. He was greeted with kindness and sympathy from many of his classmates, with pity from others. Most teachers handed him a list of missed assignments and tests along with their condolences, and it quickly became apparent he was very far behind in nearly all his classes. He had already been struggling to keep up most of the year.

He went to work that day to clean lab equipment and help the researchers prepare items they needed for the next day. Riding home was done automatically, but his mind raced with how he was going to manage all his schoolwork as he arrived in front of his house.

Kevin was sitting on his front step with a quilted coat buttoned to the top. He stood as Hugo approached, toes of his thick-soled boots kicking at the concrete as he got closer.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Hugo returned in the flat tone that seemed to be natural now.

“Sorry about your dad. I know I’ve said that, but I’m not sure what else to say. Ya know?”

Hugo nodded, finding a lot of people were at a loss for words around him now. Which was fine. He wasn’t much in the mood for talking lately anyway. Or listening, for that matter. People thought they were being helpful, but often their words just ended up cutting into the fragile wounds he had, and he’d start bleeding all over again. And he was tired of crying. He was tired of feeling sad. Numb was better, for now.

“I thought, maybe, you could use some help with your homework. I know you missed a lot of classes. We had tests in Chem and Algebra. English too.” Kevin’s voice seemed to gradually get quieter, ending near a whisper.

Hugo nodded and opened the front door, both boys toeing off their shoes before Kevin followed Hugo to his bedroom. Kevin did what he always did when they first entered Hugo’s room, searching out some music. This time it was the radio. Then Kevin got situated at the foot of the bed, and Hugo leaned up against the headboard.

“Did you get your assignments?” Kevin asked. Hugo nodded and passed various scraps of paper toward Kevin then studied him as Kevin looked them over. Kevin appeared tired and worn out himself. Hugo wondered what that was about but didn’t have the strength to ask.

They spent the next hour going over schoolwork, trying to figure out where Hugo’s time would be best spent. Kevin helped him narrow down the important things to study for his tests so his time was optimized. Even if the teachers did end up giving him a different test, he figured he’d get at least a C or a B on it, and that was okay.

“I might need to see about getting some extra credit,” Hugo thought out loud.

“Odland actually said something yesterday about extra credit. She needs someone to help her prep the upcoming labs in the mornings because there’s a lot of equipment. Clean up after school too.”

“That would be easy. It’s what I do every day at my job.”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought. Travis Johnson was talking about doing it, but he already has an A- in Chemistry. Maybe Odland would give you the job over him because you need the extra credit more. Well, that’s what I told him, at least. He might not even talk to her.”

“Thanks,” Hugo said with a slight smile, fully aware of what his friend had done for him, helping Hugo out when he was having a hard time helping himself.

“So, do you think you’d like to get together after work in the evenings? I mean, to study? ’Cause I’m more than happy to come and help. I’m golden now that I don’t have a job.”

“Sure, but I can’t get together until at least six-thirty or seven.”

Kevin hugged Hugo in the front entryway for a long, long time that evening. Hugo melted into the wordlessness of the gesture, sinking his fingertips into the hard muscle on Kevin’s back and burying his nose in the crook of his neck. He took slow and steady breaths and was ready to pull away, but Kevin wouldn’t allow it. Kevin pulled him closer as he threaded his fingers in Hugo’s hair, stroking comfort into his skin.

Without warning, Hugo choked out a sob and gripped Kevin even tighter. He drew greedy drafts of air in, but also greedy drafts of Kevin’s scent. It was soothing. It slowed Hugo’s tears and gentled his ache.

When Hugo was settled, taking in slow, easy breaths again, Kevin released him, stepped back, and pressed a full kiss to his forehead.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Kevin whispered before leaving.

O
VER
the coming weeks, Hugo found himself burning the candle at both ends to catch up. He arrived at school by seven each morning to help Mrs. Odland, and because of his experience at Hormel, his work went much quicker than she was used to with past student helpers. She was impressed with Hugo and even joked about hiring him as her lab assistant. Extra credit was what he was looking for, not another job, and after three weeks, he had it, bringing his grade up to a B+. If he continued to work hard in class, he had a chance of bringing it up to an A, but he needed help from Kevin. Chemistry wasn’t his strong suit aside from all the memorization it required. That part was easy. But Kevin had As in everything, and even if he struggled with some subjects, school came relatively easy for him compared to Hugo.

Hugo was in school until three each day and then quickly drove to Hormel for his job. He had finally found the time to take his driver’s test and passed, so he saved at least thirty minutes a day by no longer biking everywhere he went. He was usually home by six in time to eat supper with his mom and sometimes his sister, and by seven, Kevin was knocking on the front door. Luckily, Hugo didn’t need huge chunks of time to sleep. Most nights he got at least six hours, and on weekends he’d catch up with two days where he was able to sleep past noon.