Passengers came and went, their faces blurring into a faceless mass. Baran stared out the window at the black blur. The noise from the loud conversations was unnerving. In Turkey, no one spoke on public transportation and if you did, someone would surely put you in your place. New Yorkers didn’t know how to whisper. Each stop felt like a momentary escape, only to be followed by the relentless motion of the train.
As the hours ticked by, Baran’s emotions shifted to a deep sadness, then to a hollow numbness. He drifted through the night without purpose or direction. The subway car, with its cold, hard seats, and harsh fluorescent lights, was a stark contrast to the life he had known in Istanbul.
He thought about his father’s face, stern and unyielding. The disappointment in his eyes was a wound that cut deeper than he could have ever imagined. His father’s expectations were impossible to follow. The ache of that realization gnawed at him, a constant reminder of his newfound isolation. There was no point in calling anyone in Turkey. He wondered if his mother had known the real purpose of his so-called winter vacation with his father. When his father left them in Turkey with a promise to move them to the United States, they had waited for years. Baran begged him to allow him to study here, but he didn’t want them to come. His mother couldn’t force Baran to go to the mosque. She had no clue why he had refused after his father left. Baran didn’t consider it a safe place for a gay man.
As he pulled his jacket tighter around him, feeling the chill of the night seep into his bones, he watched the other passengers, each absorbed in their own world. For a moment, he envied them their destinations. He longed for a sense of belonging, a place to call his own. He was riding to nowhere.
As dawn approached, Baran realized he couldn’t ride the subway forever. He had to find a way to rebuild, to start anew. His stomach growled from not eating. He exited the subway and wandered the unfamiliar streets of New York City, feeling the pressure of his predicament grow heavier with each step. The city, vibrant and full of life, felt like a maze he couldn’t escape. He had little money and no one to turn to. The cash in his pocket would dwindle fast, and he was running out of options.
Chapter Two
Baran
Baran stopped at asmall café and sat at a table near the window so he could watch the people walking. He ordered coffee and the ninety-nine-cent special from a server named Silas. He had wild, curly brown hair and was a little younger than Baran.
Silas returned with a cup of coffee that tasted odd to him, very weak compared to Turkish coffee. Someone had left a newspaper on his table, and he looked for the job section. He probably couldn’t work here. He could only stay in the United States for two weeks and despite having a return ticket, he couldnot go back to Istanbul. Gripped by fear, he hesitated to go home or reach out to anyone for help, feeling utterly alone.
Later Silas brought him the breakfast platter, then left. Baran’s stomach growled loudly, a reminder that he hadn’t eaten since his flight to New York City.
After ten minutes, Silas returned to the table and asked, “Hey, can I sit with you for a few minutes?”
Baran nodded, then sipped more of his weak coffee.
“I’m Silas Robles, but you can call me Silas.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Baran Aslan.” He couldn’t help but notice Silas was wearing a shirt with a vibrant rainbow, making Baran feel safe around him.
“You look so troubled and tired. And you have a cut lip. Do you need help?”
“It’s complicated. I need to find shelter.”
“Where are you from?”
“Istanbul. I got here yesterday for a visit, and things didn’t work out.”
“What happened?” Silas’s big brown eyes widened.
“I flew in to visit my father for the winter break. I really wanted to spend time with him and was hoping he’d let me stay and attend school here. That didn’t happen.”
“What did?”
“He disowned me because he found out I was gay. He closed my bank accounts and told me there was a hit on me in Turkey. I don’t know what to do.” Baran’s voice quivered with emotion, and tears were just a breath away.
Silas listened patiently, nodding in understanding. “I’m gay too.” He pointed to the rainbow on his shirt. “I know a place you can go,” he whispered. “It’s called Rainbow Haven. It’s a shelter for gay men. They’ll help you out.”
“Even if I’m not an American?” Baran didn’t understand where to begin and how to apply for a green card. If he returned to Turkey, his life would be in danger.
Silas nodded. “Most of us call the owner Daddy Darien instead of Mr. Moore. He’ll help anyone. He helped me get this job, and I’m back in school. I’m still there.”
“What happened to you?” Baran asked.
“I was in school, then my mother died. I had to drop out and since I had never worked before, I couldn’t afford rent as I had no money saved. All my money went to school. I was out on the streets for a while, then I heard from this guy on the streets about Daddy Darien at Rainbow Haven. I’ll stay there until I can afford to rent. He’ll help you.” Silas handed him a card with Rainbow Haven’s address.
“Thanks, Silas. You’re a lifesaver.”
“You’re going to fall in love with Daddy Darien. He’s hot!”
Baran’s spirits lifted slightly as Silas gave him clear directions, a flicker of hope igniting within him. He thanked Silas profusely again, feeling a sense of relief washing over him. Rainbow Haven felt like a lifeline, a chance to find some stability in the chaos.
