"The Enchanted Cottage" -- Part 10
Mail run.
Las Encantadas Estate, Erie, Pa., September 2006
Harvey woofed and thumped his tail against the floor when Justin came into the winery office.
"It's m... me, Major. I'm here to pick up Brian's mail."
The Major stopped typing on his Braille typewriter and patted his dog fondly. "I knew it was you, Justin. Harvey is always so pleased to see you."
"We're buddies," said Justin, rubbing Harvey's head.
"It doesn't hurt that you slip him a piece of bacon now and then," the Major pointed out.
"He deserves it." Justin sorted through the pile of mail in the In-Basket, picking out the envelopes for Brian. "Here are those t... tearsheets from 'The Advocate' Brian's been waiting for. And something from his friend M... Michael, too. Probably comic books. He owns a comic book store."
"Does Brian Kinney read comic books?" asked the Major.
"N... no, but he still likes to get things from M... Michael," said Justin. "He's Brian's oldest friend. I think he misses his p... partner."
The Major shook his head sadly. "Was he one of the people killed in the bombing?"
"Yes," said Justin. "B... Brian never talks about it, but I kind of figured it out when he was t... telling me about Michael.."
"So he never speaks of that night?"
"No." Justin contemplated the envelope from Pittsburgh. "But I know he has dreams about it. Or n... nightmares. I used to have n... nightmares, too, but I could never remember them, just like I could never r... remember the attack. I used to hate that -- having a b... big chunk of my life missing from my memory. But now I think it's not so bad. It's a b... blank instead of something I can never get out of my head."
The Major gazed into space. "There are certain things a person can never erase. Things you're seen. Things you've experienced. Good or bad, they are a part of life. Brian will have to deal with those memories all of his life."
"I know," said Justin. "I wish I could help him. Some n... nights I hear him c... crying out and I go into his room to see if there's anything I can do, but he always says he's okay. But I know he's not okay. He's f... far from okay." Justin sighed. "At least Mr. Vance is sending him w... work to do. For a while there Brian was just s... sitting at his computer, staring at the screen, pretending to be doing something. But now he really is w... working. On a campaign for a new gay travel site."
The Major raised his eyebrows. "Is there a lot of call for that?"
"Oh, yeah!" said Justin. "Gay travel is a huge b... business. And Brian's been to all of the places they feature on the site -- South Beach, Maui, Palm Springs, Key West, Provincetown, Ibiza. I wish I could go to those places. M... maybe one day."
"I don't understand the whole computer culture," said the Major. "I suppose I'll never understand something I can't see."
"Th... there are computers that work on voice recognition," said Justin. "And special software for the b... blind. I w... was reading up on it. If you wanted to try it, I'm sure Mrs. Minnett would order it. You c... could talk to people all over the world!"
The Major turned back to his typewriter. "This is my world, Justin. Las Encantadas and the winery and Harvey and Mrs. Minnett and everyone here. I'm happy using my typewriter and reading my old Braille books and listening to the radio."
Justin looked around the office. It suddenly seemed very small and crowded. He really liked the Major and he loved Las Encantadas, but ever since Brian had arrived he'd begun to think about his life beyond the estate. One day Brian would leave here -- and Justin dreamed that he would leave with him. One day. It was just a dream, but you never knew -- it could happen!
Ever since the night Justin had the seizure, Brian had been extra nice to him. At first Justin thought it was because Brian was afraid if he yelled at him, he'd have another one. And maybe that was true -- at first. But now Brian actually seemed to like him. Or at least they were getting along.
Brian could be grumpy, especially in the morning, and he often made sharp comments that could sting -- if you took what he said literally. Some days he thundered at Justin until he was ready to cry. But Justin held onto his emotions -- that was something he'd been unable to do for a long time. He, too, would scream and rail at his mother and father, his therapists, even poor Daphne. It was impossible for him to keep his anger under control. But slowly he struggled to rein in his feelings, especially his negative feelings. And in Brian, Justin saw himself -- a damaged person trying to be what he once was. Trying to be what other people considered normal.
Justin had also seen another side of Brian. A softer, more vulnerable side. He'd heard him talking on the phone to Michael one afternoon while he was sitting on the bluff overlooking the lake. That was one of the few places near the cottage where you could get cellphone service. Justin was coming up from the beach and accidently heard Brian's end of the conversation. This was a gentle and soothing Brian, a Brian who obviously cared deeply for his friend. A Brian he wanted to know more about.
And then an envelope from Canada came in the mail. It was from Brian's son, Gus, who lived with his moms in Toronto. Brian kept a photograph of Gus, a smiling, dark-haired boy, next to his bed. Brian took the envelope and opened it slowly. Justin retreated to the sofa, but didn't leave the room. He watched as Brian looked at some drawings Gus had made, a letter in crayon, and a picture of Gus at a birthday party, with a cake decorated with the number 6.
"My son's party," said Brian. He put the photo on the desk. "I wasn't there. I'll never be there again. Never."
And then the man broke down.
Justin didn't even stop to think. He immediately went to Brian and put his arms around him. He'd never thought a man like Brian -- so strong, so independent, so I-don't-give-a-fuck -- could cry like that, but he did. And when he was finished, Justin, his shirt wet with tears, went into his room, while Brian went into his, and they never mentioned it again. But now there was something between them. A bond. They'd each seen the other in their most raw, exposed moment. A moment they'd never share with anyone else.
"Justin!" Mrs. Minnett came into the office. "There's a delivery for you from UPS."
"It m... must be from Vangard," said Justin.
"No," said Mrs. Minnett. "It's for you, not Brian. And it's a large box. You'll need the golf cart to take it down to the cottage."
Justin frowned. He couldn't imagine who would send him a big package. Or what it might be. "Are you sure?"
"Quite," said Mrs. Minnett. "Take it down there now. Perhaps Brian can explain to you what it is -- and what it's for."
***
Las Encantadas Estate, Erie, Pa., September 2006
Harvey woofed and thumped his tail against the floor when Justin came into the winery office.
"It's m... me, Major. I'm here to pick up Brian's mail."
The Major stopped typing on his Braille typewriter and patted his dog fondly. "I knew it was you, Justin. Harvey is always so pleased to see you."
"We're buddies," said Justin, rubbing Harvey's head.
"It doesn't hurt that you slip him a piece of bacon now and then," the Major pointed out.
"He deserves it." Justin sorted through the pile of mail in the In-Basket, picking out the envelopes for Brian. "Here are those t... tearsheets from 'The Advocate' Brian's been waiting for. And something from his friend M... Michael, too. Probably comic books. He owns a comic book store."
"Does Brian Kinney read comic books?" asked the Major.
"N... no, but he still likes to get things from M... Michael," said Justin. "He's Brian's oldest friend. I think he misses his p... partner."
The Major shook his head sadly. "Was he one of the people killed in the bombing?"
"Yes," said Justin. "B... Brian never talks about it, but I kind of figured it out when he was t... telling me about Michael.."
"So he never speaks of that night?"
"No." Justin contemplated the envelope from Pittsburgh. "But I know he has dreams about it. Or n... nightmares. I used to have n... nightmares, too, but I could never remember them, just like I could never r... remember the attack. I used to hate that -- having a b... big chunk of my life missing from my memory. But now I think it's not so bad. It's a b... blank instead of something I can never get out of my head."
The Major gazed into space. "There are certain things a person can never erase. Things you're seen. Things you've experienced. Good or bad, they are a part of life. Brian will have to deal with those memories all of his life."
"I know," said Justin. "I wish I could help him. Some n... nights I hear him c... crying out and I go into his room to see if there's anything I can do, but he always says he's okay. But I know he's not okay. He's f... far from okay." Justin sighed. "At least Mr. Vance is sending him w... work to do. For a while there Brian was just s... sitting at his computer, staring at the screen, pretending to be doing something. But now he really is w... working. On a campaign for a new gay travel site."
The Major raised his eyebrows. "Is there a lot of call for that?"
"Oh, yeah!" said Justin. "Gay travel is a huge b... business. And Brian's been to all of the places they feature on the site -- South Beach, Maui, Palm Springs, Key West, Provincetown, Ibiza. I wish I could go to those places. M... maybe one day."
"I don't understand the whole computer culture," said the Major. "I suppose I'll never understand something I can't see."
"Th... there are computers that work on voice recognition," said Justin. "And special software for the b... blind. I w... was reading up on it. If you wanted to try it, I'm sure Mrs. Minnett would order it. You c... could talk to people all over the world!"
The Major turned back to his typewriter. "This is my world, Justin. Las Encantadas and the winery and Harvey and Mrs. Minnett and everyone here. I'm happy using my typewriter and reading my old Braille books and listening to the radio."
Justin looked around the office. It suddenly seemed very small and crowded. He really liked the Major and he loved Las Encantadas, but ever since Brian had arrived he'd begun to think about his life beyond the estate. One day Brian would leave here -- and Justin dreamed that he would leave with him. One day. It was just a dream, but you never knew -- it could happen!
Ever since the night Justin had the seizure, Brian had been extra nice to him. At first Justin thought it was because Brian was afraid if he yelled at him, he'd have another one. And maybe that was true -- at first. But now Brian actually seemed to like him. Or at least they were getting along.
Brian could be grumpy, especially in the morning, and he often made sharp comments that could sting -- if you took what he said literally. Some days he thundered at Justin until he was ready to cry. But Justin held onto his emotions -- that was something he'd been unable to do for a long time. He, too, would scream and rail at his mother and father, his therapists, even poor Daphne. It was impossible for him to keep his anger under control. But slowly he struggled to rein in his feelings, especially his negative feelings. And in Brian, Justin saw himself -- a damaged person trying to be what he once was. Trying to be what other people considered normal.
Justin had also seen another side of Brian. A softer, more vulnerable side. He'd heard him talking on the phone to Michael one afternoon while he was sitting on the bluff overlooking the lake. That was one of the few places near the cottage where you could get cellphone service. Justin was coming up from the beach and accidently heard Brian's end of the conversation. This was a gentle and soothing Brian, a Brian who obviously cared deeply for his friend. A Brian he wanted to know more about.
And then an envelope from Canada came in the mail. It was from Brian's son, Gus, who lived with his moms in Toronto. Brian kept a photograph of Gus, a smiling, dark-haired boy, next to his bed. Brian took the envelope and opened it slowly. Justin retreated to the sofa, but didn't leave the room. He watched as Brian looked at some drawings Gus had made, a letter in crayon, and a picture of Gus at a birthday party, with a cake decorated with the number 6.
"My son's party," said Brian. He put the photo on the desk. "I wasn't there. I'll never be there again. Never."
And then the man broke down.
Justin didn't even stop to think. He immediately went to Brian and put his arms around him. He'd never thought a man like Brian -- so strong, so independent, so I-don't-give-a-fuck -- could cry like that, but he did. And when he was finished, Justin, his shirt wet with tears, went into his room, while Brian went into his, and they never mentioned it again. But now there was something between them. A bond. They'd each seen the other in their most raw, exposed moment. A moment they'd never share with anyone else.
"Justin!" Mrs. Minnett came into the office. "There's a delivery for you from UPS."
"It m... must be from Vangard," said Justin.
"No," said Mrs. Minnett. "It's for you, not Brian. And it's a large box. You'll need the golf cart to take it down to the cottage."
Justin frowned. He couldn't imagine who would send him a big package. Or what it might be. "Are you sure?"
"Quite," said Mrs. Minnett. "Take it down there now. Perhaps Brian can explain to you what it is -- and what it's for."
***