Authors: Geoff Laughton
“Don’t get smart,” she scolded. “I’ll date when I’m ready, if I ever am.” She paused. “But it’s nice to know I have your blessing.” His mother winked, and David rolled his eyes.
“You always had my blessing; I just didn’t know it.” David flashed an excited grin and then got cleaned up from work. He helped his mother with dinner, and afterward spent the evening at Lynn’s, watching television and goofing around with her and her brothers. It took his mind off things for a little while, but his thoughts quickly returned to Benjamin. He read the last two notes, short as they were, again and again, reading between the lines every way he could, and all he kept coming back to was that Benjamin needed his help.
“These are not from a happy person,” David said out loud, waving the notes to emphasize his point to the otherwise empty room. But if he was right, what could he do about it? Of course, no answer came, and David got ready for bed.
As he climbed under the covers after cleaning up, he tried to clear his mind so he could think, but the thought of seeing Benjamin again kept him staring at the ceiling for hours.
The following morning, David awoke to the sun brightening his windows. Sitting up, he peered out the window. A thick blanket of fog covered the ground. David had never been so grateful for thick, humidity-heavy air in his life. Getting out of bed, he dressed and packed a bag of stuff he knew he’d need. David had no idea when Benjamin would show up, so he packed a book, some food and drinks, a light jacket to keep out the dampness, and his beach blanket to sit on. As ready as he was ever going to be, David left the house and slowly made his way across the field.
Thick and damp, the fog closed around him as he moved farther from the house. Just a few minutes away from the house, he looked over his shoulder, but all he could see were the tops of the trees and the barest outline of the building. David had to be careful where he stepped, so he looked ahead to where he was placing his feet.
As time passed, the sun got higher in the sky, already warming the air. The fog started to burn off, but by then David had reached the trees and carefully made his way through the shadows to the clearing. Part of him felt a bit dumb about all this sneaking around, but he was determined to see Benjamin.
David found a grass-covered spot and spread out the blanket on it. Sitting down, he watched and waited, listening to the birds and insects as they welcomed the day. David quickly found he didn’t need his jacket, so he took it off, yawning. He thought about eating, but he could barely keep his eyes open. He’d barely slept. Thinking he’d close his eyes for a few minutes, David wadded his jacket like a pillow and drew the blanket over him. The next thing he knew, someone was shaking his shoulder.
“Davey,” he heard and opened his eyes. Benjamin smiled at him, and for a second David wondered if he was dreaming. “Did you stay here all night?”
“No,” David said, letting the blanket fall away as he stood up and pulled Benjamin to him. “I walked over early this morning, but I didn’t get much sleep last night, so I….” David stopped his explanation because it didn’t matter anyway and kissed Benjamin hard. He tasted exactly the way David remembered, sweet and rich at the same time. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Benjamin said.
“It hurt when you turned away the other day,” David said, stepping away, and then he tugged Benjamin back into a hug, not really caring about all that right now.
“I know. It hurt me too, but Papa was watching. He’s always watching me lately. Everywhere I go, he watches what I’m doing and how I act.”
“He hit you,” David said. “I saw him hit you.” David began running his hands over Benjamin to make sure he was all there. He stepped back so he could see his face, rubbing his thumb over his cheeks and lips to make sure they were okay and unchanged. “Did he keep hitting you?” David asked, and Benjamin turned away. “He did.”
“He was angry, and….”
“What did he do?” David asked as anger and hate welled inside him. “I’ll kill him. No one should hit you for any reason.”
“David,” Benjamin said in a warning tone, but David was having none of it. “Please.”
“What did he do?”
Benjamin shook his head. “Please don’t make me talk about it.” Benjamin appeared close to tears, and David hugged him again, clinging to Benjamin as he felt his own tears fill his eyes.
“Okay, but I still want to kill him,” David said, glad his voice didn’t crack.
“I don’t have much time. My father is going to expect me home soon,” Benjamin said, and David nodded, not that Benjamin could see him, because he was still holding him tightly and had no intention of letting him go. “I had to see you.”
“I wanted to see you too. You looked so unhappy, and since I saw your father hitting you, I’ve worried constantly if you were okay.” David ran a hand over Benjamin’s head, his soft hair tickling his fingers.
“Papa has decided that I’m going to be baptized, and then he’s already arranged for me to court one of the girls in the community. He made arrangements with her father, and they seem pleased to have decided the course of my entire life for me.” Benjamin’s voice broke. “I don’t know what to do, but I can’t stay there anymore. What was my home now feels like being locked in a large box with no door.”
“What do you want to do?” David asked cautiously. “Not that you should do anything to make anyone else happy, including me, but what do you want to do? If you could have anything, what would it be?”
Benjamin cringed and sighed softly. “I’d have my family accept that I love you. I’d stay with them and be able to see you when I wanted. Maybe when we got older, we could find a place of our own. I could farm and you could do brilliant English things. But we’d be together and happy. That’s what I want.” Benjamin rested his head against David’s shoulder again. “But that won’t happen.” Benjamin sighed loudly. “Sometimes life is so unfair.”
“Lovely as it sounds, that can’t be. At least, all of it can’t be.” David held Benjamin, remaining quiet and just letting them be together for a while. There were problems, and decisions to make that were going to make people unhappy. For now, though, they could exist in the bubble of the clearing and just be together, because David had a feeling he was the person most likely to be left behind.
“What do we do?” Benjamin asked after a while.
David had given this a lot of thought last night while he was staring at the ceiling, and he’d had a bit of an epiphany. “You’re sort of caught between two worlds. There’s the one you’ve always known that contains your family and all the people who helped raise you. It’s the world you grew up in and what’s familiar to you. And I’ll understand if that’s the world you choose to spend the rest of your life in. I will, I promise.” David swallowed and wiped his eyes.
“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say,” Benjamin said.
“You have to choose. You can’t continue to live between the Amish world and the English world. On one hand is your family—everyone and everything you know. As I said, it’s where you were raised and the world you understand. You know what’s expected, and if that’s your decision, then you’ll take your place there. Or you can choose to leave all that behind.” This was so hard for David to say because he knew that Benjamin had to decide.
“You’re shaking,” Benjamin whispered. David could feel it—his entire body reacting in fear that Benjamin would choose what he’d just described.
“Or you could choose to be with me and join the English world. You’d have to leave your family because they probably wouldn’t accept you leaving the community, but then you could be who you are. Our world isn’t perfect, but there would be many people who’d accept you and encourage you to be the person you were meant to be. You wouldn’t have to hide or deny a part of yourself. But it’s possible that you’d never be able to see your family again. Your father doesn’t seem like the type who’ll ever be able to forgive you.”
“They’ll have to turn their backs on me, or the community would turn their backs on them,” Benjamin said with a huge swallow.
“So.” David humphed softly. “As I said, you have a decision to make, and I wish I could help you, but I can’t. This has to be all about what you want.” Benjamin nodded, and David saw doubt and fear flood across his eyes. “I know you aren’t used to making decisions, and this is a big one. Your father has made them for you for almost your entire life, just like my mom has helped me make most of mine. But you have to make this one on your own.” David so wanted to tell Benjamin what to do, to leave his family behind and be with him. That they’d figure out what they were going to do together.
“How will I live away from my family?” Benjamin asked. “I don’t have anything.”
“I don’t know, but I’ll be here to help you if that’s what you decide.” David wished he had a better answer, one that didn’t sound so lame, but that was all he had. “I love you, Benjamin, and while I know that doesn’t stand up to years in a community of people, I want you to know that whatever you decide, I won’t turn my back on you. I’ll always love you, and I’ll always be your friend.” David couldn’t take it any longer and he buried his head in Benjamin’s neck as the tears came.
“I’ll always love you too,” Benjamin said, and they held each other tight without saying much more. David couldn’t think of anything else to say, so they held each other for a short while. “I have to get home or Papa will be angry.”
The fear he heard in Benjamin’s voice had David’s anger rising again. Benjamin wouldn’t say what had happened, but that didn’t mean that David’s imagination couldn’t take over, and God, he hoped what he was imagining was vastly overblown. “I know,” David said without releasing Benjamin, who tilted his face upward, and David kissed him hard. “Let me know what you decide.” David kissed Benjamin once again, pouring every ounce of love, passion, caring, and soul-deep need he had into that one kiss. Then he stepped back, his lips still tingling as Benjamin walked down the path. David waited until he could neither see nor hear him before he gathered up his things and sat down to read his book. While he was sure he’d made it across the field without being spotted, he’d have to walk back in full view, so he wanted to give Benjamin as much time to get home as possible.
After trying to read for a while, David closed the book, not remembering a single thing, and left the clearing to head home. He didn’t take the direct route, but walked along the far edge and then turned toward home once he was behind the house.
He walked inside. Everything was quiet, and David put his things away before lying down for a few hours before he had to go into work. He tried to sleep, but couldn’t, thoughts of Benjamin running through his mind. David knew that today could very well be the last time he ever saw Benjamin. David pondered Benjamin’s decision over and over in his mind, trying to figure out what he’d decide, and he kept coming back to the fact that he didn’t know, either.
The worst thing for David was that whatever Benjamin decided, David might never know. If Benjamin decided to stay in the community, he might send David a note, but most likely he would hear nothing at all.
L
ATER
that day, David went to work, doing his best to keep his mind busy. Lynn met him during his break, and he told her about meeting Benjamin and what they’d talked about.
“I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes,” Lynn told David softly.
“Me neither,” Carol agreed as she stopped briefly to chat and listen before moving on to her tables. After eating, David said good-bye to Lynn and went back to work. He’d hoped a chat with his friends would help, but it hadn’t. They’d only confirmed what David already thought: it would be very hard for anyone to leave behind everything they had known for their entire life.
Late in the evening, after his shift ended, David drove home to find his mother waiting for him. “What happened?”
“Benjamin’s father’s been hitting him. I asked and he didn’t answer, but I could tell by the fear in his eyes,” David said to shock his mother. And it worked, because she gasped and placed her hand over her open mouth.
“What’s he going to do?”
“I don’t know, Mom. Benjamin has to decide what he wants, and I tried to explain things to him, but I’m not sure I did a very good job.”
“Did you speak from your heart?” his mother asked.
“Yeah,” he answered tentatively.
“Then you did your best,” she told him. “Did you talk about what would happen if he decided to leave?”
“A little, but I didn’t know what to say about that.” David knew what he wanted to ask, but….
“And what does your heart say about that” she asked, and David smiled, instantly hugging her for all he was worth. “Thanks, Mom,” he told her, and she stroked his head.
“You know there’s no way I could allow that sweet boy to be alone.” He heard the hitch in his mother’s voice. “Of course we’ll take him in if it comes to that. Any mother or father who could turn their back on their own child because he said he was gay doesn’t deserve a boy as wonderful as Benjamin.” His mother hugged him back and then released him. David saw her turn away, looking out the back window as she wiped her eyes with a tissue. “You’ll have to clean out the extra bedroom of all the boxes of stuff.”
“I thought he’d….”
His mother’s posture stiffened, and she turned around. “Don’t even think about it. If he comes to stay here, he’ll have his own room and be able to choose what he wants as far as a relationship with anyone.” Her expression softened. “I’m not saying you don’t love him and that he doesn’t love you, but you need to give him space.” She leaned back against the counter. “If Benjamin decides to leave the Amish community, and if he decides to come live with us—and those are both really big ifs—then he’s earned the right to make his own decisions, and that includes decisions around a relationship with you.”
David knew she was right and he hadn’t thought much beyond what he wanted if Benjamin chose him. “Maybe we could have a rummage sale and sell off what we don’t need?” David offered. There were boxes in that room that they hadn’t opened from the move two years earlier.