“I know.”
“Good. It’s Friday, what do you say we visit your old stomping grounds and get us some burgers at the Charcoaler?”
“Sure,” I said.
“You’re not even faking enthusiasm.”
“One day at a time,” I said.
“Fair enough.”
“So we’re on?”
“Yeah, I’m down.”
And then they did what I knew they were going to do. They kissed me on the cheek and hugged me. One by one.
“I’m going to die from too many kisses and too many hugs.”
“Well, if we were going to kill you, we’d just choke you.”
“It’s more direct,” I said.
“Affection never killed anybody.”
“For all you know.” I could see they weren’t going to let me wallow in my own sorrow. Just then I almost hated them for that. I jumped into my truck. “See you this evening,” I said. And I waved. And as soon as I took off, I felt the tears and I thought, Will somebody please turn off this faucet?
Seven
AS SOON MY THREE FRIENDS left me alone, I turned on the ignition and started to drive. I found myself driving into the desert. It didn’t feel like I was driving. It was more like my truck was taking me there.
I parked the truck in the same spot I’d always parked it. I just sat there. I was picturing my dad as he smoked a cigarette. I was imagining his voice as he told me to stop punishing myself. I was picturing the look in his eyes right before he died. So much love in those eyes that I’d never see again. I don’t know how long I sat there. But it was dark now. The sun was long gone.
“Dad, Dad. Why did God take you when it was me who needed you? Tell me why. I don’t understand. I hate, I hate the fucking universe. And the universe hates me. Hates me, hates me, hates me.”
I could hear myself saying those words and saying other words.
It was as if I had left my body and someone else was living there, in my body. But then I’d come back—and then leave again. I got out of the truck and sat on the desert floor and leaned against the bumper.
There was lightning and thunder in the desert skies and it started to rain. It started to pour. The rain mixed in with my salty tears. I got up to get back into the truck—but I felt myself drop to my knees. Dad, Dad.
I was all alone in the world.
Nothing but me and the desert rain.
And my broken heart.
* * *
“Ari! Ari!” I knew that voice. I knew that voice. It was a better voice than mine.
“Dante?” I whispered.
“Ari!”
I felt him pick me and carry me in his arms.
I heard voices I knew. Girls’ voices. Women’s voices. And they kept saying my name over and over and there was love everywhere. Everywhere there was love. And I wanted to reach out and grab it. But I couldn’t move.
Eight
I FELT DANTE HOLDING ME as the hot water of the shower hit my skin. I looked at him. I don’t know what kind of look I was wearing. He just kept whispering my name. And I know that I was smiling.
Nine
I WOKE UP AND SAW the sun streaming through the window. I thought of that morning, that summer morning when I’d met Dante. The sun had been streaming through that same window and I’d tapped my feet on the wood floor as I listened to “La Bamba.” It felt as if that day had happened in another life. To another boy who had the same name. And in some ways, it had happened to another boy. I was different now. I’d left that boy behind. I’d said good-bye to him. And I was still saying hello to the young man I’d become.
But the young man I’d become didn’t have a father. No, that wasn’t true. I’d always have a father. I’d just have to look for him where he lived now. Inside my heart.
Ten
MY MOM WALKED INTO THE room. She sat on my bed. “I know you’re sad. I know your heart is broken. But there are moments when you have to think of others, Ari. You have to overcome your own hurts and think of other people. You can drown in your own bitter tears or you can look up at the sky. Dante and the girls—you scared them. They’re so afraid of losing you. And me, too, Ari. Do you know what it would do to me if I lost you, if you gave in to your own grief? You loved your father? Then learn to live again.”
She reached over and combed my hair with her fingers.
She got up and walked out of my room.
Eleven
I FOUND MY MOM IN her bedroom. She was going through my father’s things. She looked up at me when I walked in. “I’m giving some of his things away to people who loved him. You get first choice.”
She sat on the bed and fought the tears. I sat next to her and held her. Then I said, “You want to hear a dirty joke?”
And we both started laughing. She gently slapped my arm. “What is wrong with you?”
We spent the entire day going through my father’s belongings. These are the things I chose:
- His mailman uniform
- His wedding band
- His army uniform
- The flag we’d received at his funeral
- A picture of my mother he’d taken in a photography class
- The letters my father and mother had sent to each other when he was in Vietnam (but I had to promise to let my sisters read them)
- His favorite shirt
- A pair of his dress shoes (we wore the same size)
- His last pack of cigarettes
- His watch
- A picture of my father holding me the day they brought me home
- A picture of me smiling at the camera, my front teeth missing, and holding Tito
After everything was packed and sorted, my mom looked around the room. “I thought about getting a new bed. I thought about moving into the spare bedroom. But then I thought, Well, that’s just running away. I don’t want to run away from the memories of the man who loved me. So I’m staying put. But I am going to buy some new bedding. It’s a little too masculine for my taste.”
I kept nodding. “We’re going to be all right, aren’t we, Mom?”
“Yes, Ari, we are. Your father once told me, ‘If anything ever happens to me, please don’t become my widow. Become yourself. Fall in love again.’ Hmm. Fall in love again, my ass. The only man I ever needed was your father. The rest of the men on the planet, I can live without.”
“Well, there’s me, Mom.”
“You don’t count.”
“Why? Because I’m gay?”
“For all of your intelligence, you can be downright silly. No. not because you’re gay. Because you’re my son.”
Twelve
I CALLED DANTE. “HEY, I’M sorry I scared you.”
“It’s okay, Ari.”
“And thanks. Shit, I finally get to take a shower with you, and my head is somewhere else.”
“Well, we can try it again.”
“You can always make me smile.”
There was silence over the phone.
And then Dante’s soft voice. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”