"Commencement" 7
One more after this.
Justin gets his stuff.
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh, June 2005
"Justin?" called Jennifer. "Is that you?"
Justin jumped out of the Jeep and slammed the door behind
him. "It's me, Mom. I only came to get some of my stuff. I
figured that Dad would be at the store and it would be okay
to come over."
Jennifer was so happy to see Justin that she ran out the door
to embrace him. It had only been a few days since that nasty
scene at his graduation, but to Jennifer it seemed like ages.
She wanted to know how Justin was getting along. Whether
he had enough money to live. If he was still upset by Craig's
emotional outburst. And if he was, as she assumed, still
staying with that Brian.
"Oh, honey!" Jennifer cried. "Please come home!"
"I can't," said Justin, releasing himself from her arms.
"I know how Dad feels about me now. He wouldn't want me
here."
Jennifer felt as if she was about to cry. "He'll come around.
I know he will! He loves you, Justin. He was only a little...
shocked. Give him some time to get used to... to the idea."
Justin shook his head. "Time to get used to the idea that his
son is a fag? And in the meantime, I should sit at home and
be a good little boy? I don't think so, Mom. I've done that
already. But I'm 22 years old. I have my own life. And if
Dad doesn't like it, then... that's too bad." Justin wanted to
say, "Fuck him!" but he still felt uncomfortable swearing
in front of his mother, even when the occasion deserved
strong language.
"When he calms down -- and when you calm down, too --
you'll both come to an understanding," Jennifer predicted
hopefully. "I know you will. Daddy loves you, honey. He's
always been so proud of you! And you've always adored
your father."
"He loved the boy who always did what he was told to do,"
Justin snorted. "The boy who hid his feelings and was afraid
to let his parents know who he really was. That's the Justin
he loved. But that's not me, Mom. He doesn't love the Justin
who wants to be an artist. And he doesn't love the Justin who...."
he took a deep breath. "Who sucks cock and loves it. The Justin
who takes it up the ass and loves that, too! The Justin who lives
with his lover and doesn't give a shit who knows it -- and that
includes all of Dad's country club pals and golfing buddies!"
Jennifer winced. "Is this the kind of thing you've learned
from that Brian? How to be crude... and hurtful?"
"You'll never understand, Mom," Justin sighed. "You have
no clue what a relief it is not to have to hide. Not to be scared
that someone was going to find out or guess my 'secret.' But
I'm not scared now. And I'm happy. Brian makes me happy.
So let's leave it at that."
"I want you to be happy, too, honey. And I'm happy for you,"
Jennifer replied, trying to sound like she actually meant it.
Justin walked around and opened the back of the Jeep. "I
brought some boxes over to hold my stuff. Brian's friend
Michael's mother gave them to me. She works at the diner
on Liberty Avenue. I'm going to be working there part time.
As a bus boy."
"A... bus boy?" Jennifer swallowed hard. This is what four
years at Dartmouth and graduating with Honors had been
reduced to? Working as a bus boy at some dive in a seedy
gay neighborhood?
"It's only to get some experience," said Justin, carrying
two cardboard boxes up to the front door. Jennifer opened
it and they both went inside. "Brian said that with my looks
I should be able to get a much better job as a waiter in a good
restaurant, but that I need to learn the basics first to see if
I like it. Brian's friend Lindsay also said that she might be
able to get me a job in the gallery where she works, but
they don't have any vacancies right now."
Justin took the boxes upstairs and set them down in his room.
He glanced around. He'd lived in this room since he was eight
years old. He remembered when the house was new and he'd
been so excited. He remembered jumping up and down on the
bed as a kid. And spending hours drawing and dreaming. A
lone Little League trophy sat on his shelf next to his old school
books. Little League -- that had been his one attempt at doing
something really butch. What a disaster! But his team had been
the champions of their league one year -- no thanks to Justin!
-- so he had a tiny trophy to show his father. To make his
father proud.
That was one thing he wouldn't be taking with him.
Actually, Justin couldn't think of anything he couldn't stand
to leave behind. His things from Dartmouth were already in
the loft. All he really needed were some odds and ends. Some
clothes. Some CDs. A few of his art books and sketchpads.
Everything else he could leave there. Everything else was
part of his old life. His straight life. His life before Brian.
Jennifer watched her son from the door. He really was leaving.
She always knew this day would come, when Justin would be a
man and no longer need her, but she never thought it would be
like this. She never thought he would leave them for... for
what? That tall, arrogant-looking man? For a life on the
margins of society? For minimum wage jobs? Jennifer
shuddered. But there was no talking to Justin. No convincing
him. She'd already tried that. And Craig? Add her husband
into the mix and it was impossible!
Justin and Craig were certainly father and son. Jennifer
had never seen it as clear as she did now. Justin was a
hard-headed boy. And Craig was a hard-headed man. Now
that they had declared war, neither of them would give an
inch. Especially not as long as that Brian was in the picture.
"Can I help you, honey?" Jennifer asked.
"No thanks, Mom," said Justin, closing the flaps on the bigger
cardboard box. "Well, maybe you could carry the smaller box
down to the Jeep?"
"Do you need more boxes?" Jennifer offered. "I think I might
have some in the garage."
"No, this is all I'm taking." Justin hoisted the larger box. "This
is all I need."
Jennifer picked up the smaller box and followed Justin down
the stairs and out of house. He walked purposefully, his eyes
directly ahead. He wasn't the least bit sentimental about leaving
this house. Leaving home. Leaving this life. Or leaving her.
Jennifer felt the tears beginning to well up. He was still her
son, but she knew it would never be the same again.
Justin deposited the larger box in the back of the Jeep and then
took Jennifer's box and set it next to the first. "That's it," he
said, closing the back door.
"Did you borrow this car to get your stuff?" Jennifer asked.
She knew that Brian drove a flashy sportscar. She had seen it
when Brian had dropped off and picked up Justin the few times
he'd stopped at home when he was in town from Dartmouth.
Justin smiled for the first time. "No, this is mine."
Jennifer blinked. "Yours? This car is yours?"
"It's a Jeep, Mom. Brian bought it for me," said Justin,
matter of factly. "It's my graduation present."
Now Jennifer was really surprised. "He bought you this...
this Jeep?"
"He knew I'd need to get around, so he got it for me." Justin
touched the black metal of the door panel. "Isn't it beautiful?"
"Justin, this is so expensive!" Jennifer returned. "I don't
think it's right that you should be taking such an expensive
gift from... from Brian."
But Justin stopped smiling and narrowed his eyes at his mother.
"Why not? He's my partner now. We live together. We're sharing
our lives. Forever -- I hope. Eventually, I'll be able to pay my
way and contribute equally, but I can't do that yet. But one day
I know I will. I'll be able to pay Brian back for everything he's
doing for me. But until then, he's helping me. It's the only way I
can do what I want to do. But that's also why I need transportation.
If I get a decent job anywhere, I'll need a car. Brian doesn't want
me walking or waiting for buses late at night. Not with Stockwell's
goons prowling the city, looking for gay men to arrest or beat up."
"But Justin!" Jennifer cried. "This car, and living at his place,
and... and everything! It looks like... like...." Then she paused,
seeing Justin's face change.
"Like what, Mom?" Justin flared. "Like Brian is buying me?
Like I'm trading my ass for a new Jeep or a fancy place to live?
That I'm a kept boy? A whore? If that's what you think, then...."
But Justin bit his tongue.
"It's not what I think, honey, it's what other people might think!"
Jennifer wailed. "And what your father will think!"
"Then fuck those other people and what they think!" Justin got into
the Jeep and revved up the engine. It sounded smooth and powerful.
He opened the window and leaned his arm on it. "And fuck Dad, too.
If he thinks he raised a whore, then let him think that! Because I
don't give a shit! If you want me, you know where I am. At the loft
-- with my lover! Brian!"
Justin backed out of the driveway and gunned the engine, speeding
down the street until he was out of Jennifer's sight. Out of Jennifer's
reach. For good.
Justin gets his stuff.
By Gaedhal
Pittsburgh, June 2005
"Justin?" called Jennifer. "Is that you?"
Justin jumped out of the Jeep and slammed the door behind
him. "It's me, Mom. I only came to get some of my stuff. I
figured that Dad would be at the store and it would be okay
to come over."
Jennifer was so happy to see Justin that she ran out the door
to embrace him. It had only been a few days since that nasty
scene at his graduation, but to Jennifer it seemed like ages.
She wanted to know how Justin was getting along. Whether
he had enough money to live. If he was still upset by Craig's
emotional outburst. And if he was, as she assumed, still
staying with that Brian.
"Oh, honey!" Jennifer cried. "Please come home!"
"I can't," said Justin, releasing himself from her arms.
"I know how Dad feels about me now. He wouldn't want me
here."
Jennifer felt as if she was about to cry. "He'll come around.
I know he will! He loves you, Justin. He was only a little...
shocked. Give him some time to get used to... to the idea."
Justin shook his head. "Time to get used to the idea that his
son is a fag? And in the meantime, I should sit at home and
be a good little boy? I don't think so, Mom. I've done that
already. But I'm 22 years old. I have my own life. And if
Dad doesn't like it, then... that's too bad." Justin wanted to
say, "Fuck him!" but he still felt uncomfortable swearing
in front of his mother, even when the occasion deserved
strong language.
"When he calms down -- and when you calm down, too --
you'll both come to an understanding," Jennifer predicted
hopefully. "I know you will. Daddy loves you, honey. He's
always been so proud of you! And you've always adored
your father."
"He loved the boy who always did what he was told to do,"
Justin snorted. "The boy who hid his feelings and was afraid
to let his parents know who he really was. That's the Justin
he loved. But that's not me, Mom. He doesn't love the Justin
who wants to be an artist. And he doesn't love the Justin who...."
he took a deep breath. "Who sucks cock and loves it. The Justin
who takes it up the ass and loves that, too! The Justin who lives
with his lover and doesn't give a shit who knows it -- and that
includes all of Dad's country club pals and golfing buddies!"
Jennifer winced. "Is this the kind of thing you've learned
from that Brian? How to be crude... and hurtful?"
"You'll never understand, Mom," Justin sighed. "You have
no clue what a relief it is not to have to hide. Not to be scared
that someone was going to find out or guess my 'secret.' But
I'm not scared now. And I'm happy. Brian makes me happy.
So let's leave it at that."
"I want you to be happy, too, honey. And I'm happy for you,"
Jennifer replied, trying to sound like she actually meant it.
Justin walked around and opened the back of the Jeep. "I
brought some boxes over to hold my stuff. Brian's friend
Michael's mother gave them to me. She works at the diner
on Liberty Avenue. I'm going to be working there part time.
As a bus boy."
"A... bus boy?" Jennifer swallowed hard. This is what four
years at Dartmouth and graduating with Honors had been
reduced to? Working as a bus boy at some dive in a seedy
gay neighborhood?
"It's only to get some experience," said Justin, carrying
two cardboard boxes up to the front door. Jennifer opened
it and they both went inside. "Brian said that with my looks
I should be able to get a much better job as a waiter in a good
restaurant, but that I need to learn the basics first to see if
I like it. Brian's friend Lindsay also said that she might be
able to get me a job in the gallery where she works, but
they don't have any vacancies right now."
Justin took the boxes upstairs and set them down in his room.
He glanced around. He'd lived in this room since he was eight
years old. He remembered when the house was new and he'd
been so excited. He remembered jumping up and down on the
bed as a kid. And spending hours drawing and dreaming. A
lone Little League trophy sat on his shelf next to his old school
books. Little League -- that had been his one attempt at doing
something really butch. What a disaster! But his team had been
the champions of their league one year -- no thanks to Justin!
-- so he had a tiny trophy to show his father. To make his
father proud.
That was one thing he wouldn't be taking with him.
Actually, Justin couldn't think of anything he couldn't stand
to leave behind. His things from Dartmouth were already in
the loft. All he really needed were some odds and ends. Some
clothes. Some CDs. A few of his art books and sketchpads.
Everything else he could leave there. Everything else was
part of his old life. His straight life. His life before Brian.
Jennifer watched her son from the door. He really was leaving.
She always knew this day would come, when Justin would be a
man and no longer need her, but she never thought it would be
like this. She never thought he would leave them for... for
what? That tall, arrogant-looking man? For a life on the
margins of society? For minimum wage jobs? Jennifer
shuddered. But there was no talking to Justin. No convincing
him. She'd already tried that. And Craig? Add her husband
into the mix and it was impossible!
Justin and Craig were certainly father and son. Jennifer
had never seen it as clear as she did now. Justin was a
hard-headed boy. And Craig was a hard-headed man. Now
that they had declared war, neither of them would give an
inch. Especially not as long as that Brian was in the picture.
"Can I help you, honey?" Jennifer asked.
"No thanks, Mom," said Justin, closing the flaps on the bigger
cardboard box. "Well, maybe you could carry the smaller box
down to the Jeep?"
"Do you need more boxes?" Jennifer offered. "I think I might
have some in the garage."
"No, this is all I'm taking." Justin hoisted the larger box. "This
is all I need."
Jennifer picked up the smaller box and followed Justin down
the stairs and out of house. He walked purposefully, his eyes
directly ahead. He wasn't the least bit sentimental about leaving
this house. Leaving home. Leaving this life. Or leaving her.
Jennifer felt the tears beginning to well up. He was still her
son, but she knew it would never be the same again.
Justin deposited the larger box in the back of the Jeep and then
took Jennifer's box and set it next to the first. "That's it," he
said, closing the back door.
"Did you borrow this car to get your stuff?" Jennifer asked.
She knew that Brian drove a flashy sportscar. She had seen it
when Brian had dropped off and picked up Justin the few times
he'd stopped at home when he was in town from Dartmouth.
Justin smiled for the first time. "No, this is mine."
Jennifer blinked. "Yours? This car is yours?"
"It's a Jeep, Mom. Brian bought it for me," said Justin,
matter of factly. "It's my graduation present."
Now Jennifer was really surprised. "He bought you this...
this Jeep?"
"He knew I'd need to get around, so he got it for me." Justin
touched the black metal of the door panel. "Isn't it beautiful?"
"Justin, this is so expensive!" Jennifer returned. "I don't
think it's right that you should be taking such an expensive
gift from... from Brian."
But Justin stopped smiling and narrowed his eyes at his mother.
"Why not? He's my partner now. We live together. We're sharing
our lives. Forever -- I hope. Eventually, I'll be able to pay my
way and contribute equally, but I can't do that yet. But one day
I know I will. I'll be able to pay Brian back for everything he's
doing for me. But until then, he's helping me. It's the only way I
can do what I want to do. But that's also why I need transportation.
If I get a decent job anywhere, I'll need a car. Brian doesn't want
me walking or waiting for buses late at night. Not with Stockwell's
goons prowling the city, looking for gay men to arrest or beat up."
"But Justin!" Jennifer cried. "This car, and living at his place,
and... and everything! It looks like... like...." Then she paused,
seeing Justin's face change.
"Like what, Mom?" Justin flared. "Like Brian is buying me?
Like I'm trading my ass for a new Jeep or a fancy place to live?
That I'm a kept boy? A whore? If that's what you think, then...."
But Justin bit his tongue.
"It's not what I think, honey, it's what other people might think!"
Jennifer wailed. "And what your father will think!"
"Then fuck those other people and what they think!" Justin got into
the Jeep and revved up the engine. It sounded smooth and powerful.
He opened the window and leaned his arm on it. "And fuck Dad, too.
If he thinks he raised a whore, then let him think that! Because I
don't give a shit! If you want me, you know where I am. At the loft
-- with my lover! Brian!"
Justin backed out of the driveway and gunned the engine, speeding
down the street until he was out of Jennifer's sight. Out of Jennifer's
reach. For good.