Born Different (29 page)

A doctor had
followed Gabe into the room.

“What’s all the
shouting about?”

Gabe was
crying, sobbing like his heart was breaking in two. He felt his
heart physically tearing itself apart with the most excruciating
pain he had ever felt.

“She’s my
girlfriend,” Gabe whispered in the only voice he could find even
though in his mind he was shouting louder than he could have
thought possible. His head was filled with a silent scream for
Grace.

The doctor had
thought that he had seen it all and that he was hardened to all
sorts by now but there was something about this young man and his
love for this girl who had so nearly died this morning and been
alone ever since.

“She is going
to be ok but she was very lucky. Poor thing.”

“Oh Grace,
please get better. I’ll never leave you. You’ll never have to go
back to that place.” Gabe’s frustration and anger were overtaking
now. He felt like he could throttle someone. After all her dad had
said and done last night and not only to him and his mum but to his
own home and family. Grace here all alone, Grace who could have
even died alone, because of them, and they didn’t even care. And
still didn’t. She could have been lying dead for hours in some room
alone and not one of her family would even know yet. Gabe’s heart
was so full to bursting with love for Grace that it tore some more
in abject agony for her.

And then that
was it. Gabe made up his mind. He had to take drastic action. They
had
to get away. Things
had
to change.

They had to get
away fast, run away, whatever it took. They could not stay here any
longer. What were the choices now? Death! That was the only other
option now if they did nothing. Grace had been so stressed with the
pressure of exams and doing well and Gabe with The Exhibition and
his paintings and the sculpture! Now what did any of it really mean
anyway in the long run? Or if you were dead?

Gabe felt like
his blood was running cold. He had worried before, what people
thought, if her parents and brother would like him. If her friends
would like him or just accept him. Where the hell were they all now
when it did matter? Why had he ever worried about what they
thought? They were the ones that should have the worry about what
people thought about them, for fucks sake. Everything was the wrong
way round.

But he was here
and Grace was here and she was alive. All Gabe needed now was
another miracle.

“Can I come
back later tonight?” Gabe had to go, if he needed a miracle he was
going to have to put in some action to get one going.

“You can come
back whenever you want. Ok?”

“Does she need
anything? Should I bring anything?”

“Yes, that’s a
good idea. She wasn’t brought in with anything. She’ll need a night
dress or two and some wash things, some fruit and maybe some
flowers too, eh! I know what us men can be like sometimes.” The
doctor was so kind to Gabe that he could have cried even more but
he knew he had to pull himself together. If he had thought that
things were serious before, he was mistaken. This was as serious as
life could get. He had to pull himself together and get through
today. He had to take responsibility.

Staring death
in the face changes you forever.

You can worry
about exams and about money and your place in society, you can
worry about your parents, your children; about strangers in your
street and in foreign lands. You can worry about wars and the state
of the economy and everything else that you are conditioned to
worry and fret about. But life is short and precious and nothing
compares to the realisation that you might lose forever someone
that you love.

It put
everything into sharp focus. It put the big things that didn’t
really matter into their right place and the little things just
evaporated. Gabe felt crystal clear and he knew what he had to do.
Nothing else mattered.

The doctor
touched Gabe on his shoulder and then on the top of his wing, that
had worked itself lose from his T-shirts as his jacket had now
slipped down to his elbows, half way down his arms.

“Ah, you have
wings!”

“Err no…” Gabe
quickly looked to his side and saw what the doctor had seen.

“Don’t worry.
It’s more common than you think. Rare, of course, but there have
always been fables and stories in the medical profession of it
happening. But I assume that these people don’t like to make a fuss
about it. I never saw it before though myself, well not till now.
Amazing.”

So they weren’t
the only ones, Gabe and his dad. There were others. Others that hid
it too.

“I’ll be back
later I promise. I just need to sort a few things out.”

Even the thing
that Gabe had always thought of being his biggest problem, the
wings, seemed petty in comparison to the woman you loved lying in
some hospital bed so close to death.

Even though he
was not alone, there was no accompanying ‘Eureka’ moment like Gabe
had always imagined there would be if he ever found out there were
others. He was not jumping for joy with a tear in his eye, relieved
and fixed. The things that he thought would fix him only went to
highlight, and if anything exacerbate, the things that were
breaking him apart. He felt selfish; selfish and self-obsessed
about his wings. When people, his friends even, the people he
loved, they all suffered, as bad if not worse than what Gabe had to
suffer daily. He felt like he had been a fool. He had wasted so
much time.

First things
first
, thought Gabe.
Just take one step at a time today
.
If he ran and everything went smoothly he could get to the opening
of The Exhibition. He had not prepared a speech or anything and he
had no time to even worry about it now. He would be glad when it
was all over and he could go and pick up some stuff for Grace and
see where his mum was and come back to the hospital. He could bring
his mum too, Grace would like that. And her family? Fuck them, what
had they ever done for her? Fancy house and expensive clothes but
it all meant nothing. Without love and care it was worthless.

Gabe was going
to save her. He was going to make her dreams come true. Love her,
hold her and talk to her so that the comfort was real and not
alcohol induced. Gabe had heard that you had to love yourself
before anyone could love you but Gabe didn’t believe it. Grace’s
love had made him love himself, his love could make her come to
love herself too. Love herself enough not to want to kill herself
or drink or starve herself to death. He was good enough for her.
Gabe believed that now. Her father had been talking complete
bullshit. He didn’t even know or love his own daughter. It was him
that beat her, him that drove her to want to end it all. Her
mother, completely unavailable, unsupportive, incapable. They would
be free of it.

Gabe would give
Grace her wings like she was giving his back to him.

Gabe got to The
Exhibition. He had run all the way, stopping only to catch his
breath and text his friends. Dave and Frank had picked up his art
work and Johnny had just finished hanging the paintings in Gabe’s
exhibition space. They were all unloading the heavily wrapped
sculpture as Gabe arrived.

Gabe was so
happy to see them, so grateful to them for everything that he threw
his arms around them and hugged them close and tight and he really
wanted to cry again but he held it together, even though it took
the small bit of strength he had left in him to maintain any kind
of composure.

The Exhibition
was heaving. Everyone was there, his friends and the rest of the
school, parents, teachers and even some of the city gallery owners
that Gabe recognised. A few semi-famous names too, ex pupils doing
their bit, cool at long last so strutting around the place like
peacocks. Some of the students were filming and everyone else who
was exhibiting were milling around their own space with fixed
grins.

Gabe was so hot
now after the running and all the emotion that he had to take his
jacket off, it was unbearable and what did it matter? He thought he
would pass out if he got any hotter.

“What on
earth…” Someone realised immediately what they had just thought
they had seen and had jumped back in shock.

“What you got
on there? Is this part of the act? Hey, genius man.”

“Hey guys, look
over here, this guy and his paintings.”

Gabe realised
that his wings had come free. Just the top parts.
What the
hell
, thought Gabe,
Really, what the hell!
What was the
worst that could happen and was it going to be any worse than what
he had already been through today?
No
! Gabe took off his
shirts and let his wings out. He thought twice about it, but he had
come this far, so Gabe took a deep breath in and out and as he
inhaled again, he stretched his wings out wide. Wide, proud and
stunning.

“Cool man.”

It was like
everyone in the room’s attention was drawn to where Gabe was
standing.

“What a great
idea, they’re just like in your paintings, classic.”

And they were
right.

Gabe’s
paintings were all of men and women with wings. Fallen angels. Men
and woman, old and young. From every corner and bend in the world,
from the gutter and from the heavens. People dominated in all of
his paintings and they all had wings. Men and women all they were
all revealing their true colours amid the backdrop of a world
hostile and in turmoil. In Gabe’s paintings the Worlds cities, high
rise buildings, businesses and economies crashed and burned while
the people rose up and took control again from those who had
enslaved their minds. The people were celebrating and having
revolutions of love and kindness, of being alive rather than a cog
in a machine to make money for the faceless few. Free from
brainwashing and control. Free to be creative. Free to be
themselves. Free to fly.

Even the great
sculpture of all his childhood junk and collections was complete
with wings. But what Gabe only just saw, and it took him as much by
shock as it did everybody else, was that it was him. A
self-portrait. A man with wings, exactly the same as Gabe, except
this man was embracing a woman, lifting her up and away with him
and she had wings too.

“Man they look
so real, they’re bloody brilliant.” Gabe sensed that he had started
to draw a crowd. He was attracting a large fuss and throng of
followers, totally pissing off all the other artists who were
wishing that they had thought of something like this instead of
hanging around The Exhibition hall for the last few weeks. They had
been slagging off Gabe for not hanging his work up till the last
minute and now they were all feeling a little bit gutted.

The attention
and cheers and back slapping, was all getting out of hand, crazy
and a bit too much for Gabe. He wanted to leave now, he had had
enough. He had got there, done what he had to do and now he wanted,
needed, just had to leave.

Gabe had too
much stress and worry already to really have the surplus effort
required to think about the consequences of what he has just done.
What if people thought they were real? Well, they were real. The
people that matter the most knew the truth and that was all that
mattered. Gabe needed to get home, get back up to the hospital,
even if Grace was going to be unconscious for the rest of the day.
Gabe still wanted to be by her side.

The speeches
had started and Gabe’s name was called but Gabe thought that he had
already made quite a bit of an impact and words now would not match
up or they would feel a little empty in comparison. Besides he had
no idea what he was going to say and to get up on stage with his
wings out would be a bit foolish.

The headmaster
was calling him up but Gabe made his way through the masses back
out towards the exit. Then he caught sight of his mum, out there in
the crowd smiling at him, so full of pride. Seeing her son with his
wings out in front of everyone and not being bullied but being
cheered and applauded.

Then Gabe saw
his father, now standing in Gabe’s exhibition space, looking at him
with that same pride his mother had. Gabe could feel their pride
lifting him up as it shone straight out of their eyes. His father
had his internal light switched back on again.

Gabe decided he
had to give the speech. He was not going to be the man that ran
away.

His name was
being chanted, at first by a few and then, as others joined in and
the chanting got louder, it felt as if everyone in the hall was
calling his name.

“Gabe! Gabe!
Gabe!”

He was so close
now to the double doors out and freedom but other students blocked
the exit and pushed him back towards the stage. Gabe felt
overwhelmed and compelled; he would have to do it. What would he
say? He would tell them the truth.

When he got to
the stairs leading up to the stage Gabe leapt up them with what
looked like confidence and the cheering stopped as everyone now had
him in their view, up on the platform. For a moment, Gabe just
stood there.

“Er…thank you.
I really do not know what is the right thing to say, other than
what I feel I have to say. So, I’ll just say it as it comes. My art
is in my soul and I have waited for this day for years. I thought
it was the most important thing in the world to me, to exhibit my
art and reach out to the world with it. But compared to what is
going on in my life right now, what to me is more important than me
being here right now, more important to me than even all of this,
is my girlfriend. It’s complicated, you all know who she is, Grace.
She nearly died this morning.”

Gabe paused as
the whole audience took in a collective gasp.