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“I’ve never killed anybody!” Remy shouted feeling everyone’s stares. “Jesus! What do you all think of me?” he asked before getting up and storming outside.
I looked at Hil and Cali as they both looked back at me. Remy was right. We were all thinking it.
“I guess I should talk to him,” Hil said apprehensively.
“No. I’ll do it,” I said hoping the time we spent together would make the conversation easier.
Exiting the kitchen and the bed and breakfast, I spotted Remy sitting in his car. I half expected him to drive off but he didn’t. He just sat there behind the wheel. So I joined him.
“Having people think that was a lot easier when I didn’t give a shit,” Remy volunteered when my door was closed.
I shifted in the seat to face him and put a hand on his knee.
“What was it like growing up the way you did? It couldn’t have been easy.”
“Our father cared about his family. Never once did I question if he loved us. He said it constantly. But, my father wasn’t a good man. I watched him do things to other people that he would burn in hell for if it existed.”
“Like what?” I asked hesitantly.
“You don’t wanna know.”
“You’re right. I don’t. I would prefer to think of your father as the man who treated my mother well and paid for me to go to college. Never was your father anything but kind around me and I’d like to believe that that was who he was.”
“And that’s how you should remember him.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Why not? He’s gone now. What does it matter?”
“It matters because you shouldn’t have to carry the weight of what you’ve seen on your own.”
Remy looked at me softening. “You couldn’t take it. The things I’ve seen…”
“Ya know, I’m not as helpless as people think I am. I’m skinny, but I’m pretty strong.”
Remy smiled. “I know you are. You’re the strongest person I know. But you have your own shit to deal with. At least I had a father, as insane as he was. You had to raise yourself.”
“I had my mother,” I quickly added feeling defensive.
“Yeah, but you had no one to teach you how to be a man.”
That quieted me. As a gay guy, growing up without a father was always a sore topic for me. When I was a kid and it became clear to everyone what I was, I overheard one of my mother’s friends say that if she didn’t bring a man into my life, I would turn gay.
My mother immediately came to my defense saying that there would be nothing wrong with if I did turn out gay. She said she would be proud of me either way. That shut her up.
But, hearing it as a kid, the idea that I was gay because I didn’t have a father, lingered. It might even have been the reason I started watching my dad’s family from across the street.
I have since learned that liking guys is more genetics than anything. And seeing how gay Hil is with a father like theirs, helped. But, the things you hear early are hard to shake. It sits in the back of my mind even today.
“You’re right. I didn’t have anyone to teach me what it was to be a man. But did learning what your father taught you make your life any better?”
Remy looked down in thought.
“Maybe not. Look, I didn’t mean to say anything…”
“You didn’t,” I said knowing he hadn’t. “I’m just trying to tell you that I want to be there for you. I want to help you carry whatever is weighing you down. I’m strong enough. I can take it. And I don’t want you to feel alone. Not with me around,” I said squeezing his knee.
Remy looked at me considering. When his decision was made, he said, “I once saw my father amputate a man.”
