I remembered Dante telling me that he could never run away from home. I’m crazy about my parents. It had taken me a lot longer to be crazy about mine.
My mother and I sat in our own silence for a while, and the cool wind blew on our faces and it made me feel alive. There were clouds in the distance, and I could smell the rain. It was like my father was sending me what I loved most. Or maybe it was the universe that was sending me the rain. Or maybe it was God. Maybe it didn’t matter. Everything was connected.
The living were connected to the dead. And the dead were connected to the living. And the living and the dead were all connected to the universe.
The World, the Universe, and Aristotle and Dante
There have been explosions in the universe for billions of years—explosions that give birth to a world breathing with new life. The universe creates.
We live on a planet that is a part of that universe. And though we are only a speck, a tiny particle, we, too, are a part of that universe. Everything is connected and everything belongs. Everything that is alive carries the breath of the universe. Once something is born—a dog, a tree, a lizard, a human being—it becomes essential to the universe and never dies.
The earth does not know the word “exile.” Violence begins in the dark and stubborn riots of the human heart. The human heart is the source of all our hate—and all our love. We must tame our wild hearts—or we will never understand the spark of the universe that lives within us all.
To live and never to understand the strange and beautiful mysteries of the human heart is to make a tragedy of our lives.
One
DANTE CAME OVER. I WAS staring at my journal. But I didn’t have any words living in me just then. Sometimes words ran away just when you needed them to stay.
“I’m going back to school tomorrow.”
He nodded. “Ari, you look so sad. And all this love I have for you, it can’t make you un-sad. I wish I could take all your pain away.”
“But the pain is mine, Dante. And you can’t have it. If you took it away, I would miss it.”
* * *
I walked Dante home in the cold. We took the backstreets and I held his hand and there was a silence between us that felt better than a conversation. I kissed him in front of his house, and he combed my hair with his fingers like my mother did. And that made me smile.
As I walked back home, I looked up at the stars and whispered, “Dad, which one are you?”
Two
I WENT BACK TO SCHOOL on Thursday. My last semester of high school. I felt far away. A little empty. A little numb. I felt like crying. But I knew I wasn’t going to cry. Mr. Blocker asked me how I was doing. I shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
“I’m going to say something stupid. It will get better over time.”
“I guess so.”
“I’m going to stop talking now.”
He made me smile.
The students seemed to flood into the classroom.
Susie and Gina walked up to me as I sat at my desk. They both kissed me on the cheek.
“Nice,” Chuy yelled from the back of the room.
Mr. Blocker shook his head and smiled.
“For the next three weeks we’re going to take a crack at poetry.”
There were groans.
“It gets better,” he said. “You’re going to have the opportunity to write a poem.”
It was good to be back at school. I was going to make an attempt—at getting back to normal.
I don’t remember what went on in class.
I honestly don’t remember anything about that day—except for listening to Cassandra’s voice as she gave Susie and Gina a lecture on her theories about male privilege. And I remember saying, “Stop! My balls are shrinking.”
I felt that I was living in the land of the dead. But I knew that I had to return to the land of the living—that’s where I belonged.
My father was dead. But I wasn’t.
Three
I WOKE UP TO THE sound of my mother sobbing. I knew her sadness was much greater than mine. She had loved my dad for a long, long time. They had slept in the same bed, listened to each other’s problems, cared for each other. And now he was gone. And I lay there in my bed, sad and paralyzed. Oh, Mom, I’m sorry. What can I do? But I knew there was nothing I could do. Her pain was hers alone. Just as mine was mine alone. No one could heal it. The wound would have to heal itself.
I didn’t know if I should go to her or just let her grieve. And then there was silence. I waited for her sobs to start again.
She must have fallen back asleep. And then my own sobs filled the room. I don’t remember how long it took before I cried myself to sleep.
Four
I WAS HAVING COFFEE WITH my mom. “I heard your pain last night.”
“I heard yours,” she said.
I don’t know why, but we smiled at each other.
Five
DANTE WAS ON THE PHONE. And he was talking and talking. Sometimes he talked too much and it was a little annoying. But sometimes I loved that he talked so much. “We’re almost done, Ari. We’re kicking ass.”
“Is this Dante pretending to be Ari?”
“You know, I sometimes do talk like everybody else that passes you in the hallway.”
“Well, that’s too bad.”
“Just be quiet. I’m talking about how we are almost done with this thing called high school and I’m just fuckin’ excited about it. Good-bye, all-boys Catholic school.”
“And this coming from a guy who likes guys.”
“Not the guys from Cathedral. I like this guy who goes to Austin High.”
“Tell me about him.”
“Nope. I don’t kiss and tell.”
“I’m going to hang up now.”
“I’m crazy about you.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re just plain crazy.”
Really, it was me who was crazy. I was crazy for him. Or like some of the women in the movies. They’re mad about the guy they’re in love with. Madly in love. Yeah. That was an expression I think I understood. See, love wasn’t about thinking, it was a kind of state that affected the entire body with this thing called desire. Or want. Or whatever the hell you wanted to call it. And it made you mad with desire. Or just mad. Or just plain crazy. I was crazy. I was. I admit it.
And another thing, I was also mad with grief. I know that sounded like a badly written line from a telenovela. But it was the fucking truth. Yeah. I woke every day thinking about my father. So being madly in love gave me some stability. That’s really crazy.
Six
AFTER SCHOOL, AS I WAS approaching my truck in the parking lot, I saw Susie and Gina and Cassandra waiting for me.
“No loitering,” I said.
“Call the cops,” Susie said.
“I just might.”
“What’s the big occasion?”
“You’re going away again,” Gina said.
“I’m not. I promise. I’m just sad.”
“Okay,” Cassandra said, “we get that. But isolating yourself from the world won’t heal your hurt.”