Why couldn’t he heed her warning in the first place? It definitely wasn’t helping his healing process – that was turning to shit.
There was no possible way he could move forward, not now; not after hearing the truth about the scar on his chest and why he’d hidden it with that tattoo.
It was a horrible truth, and it painted an image of his father he never would have imagined.
But he’d sort of known all along. Somehow. Deep down.
What bothered him the most was the fact he’d come from such a sadistic, cruel person.
It was true what they said. Be careful what you wish for. He’d begged for the truth and now he had it. There was no turning back. There was no forgetting...again.
“You were my sweet boy, Devin. You were quiet and polite – every mother’s dream. Never did you meet a stranger, sweetheart. You were kind to everyone.”
“Okay.” He eased down on the futon and gazed at her, trying to envision his childhood. But it was no use. Trying to remember anything was like fishing without a reel and bait; it was hopeless. “That doesn’t sound terrible to me.”
“It’s not.” Mrs. Rose sat down beside him and rested a hand against his knee. “It’s what happened later on that you’re not going to like hearing about. I really don’t think I should continue.”
“Please just tell me. I deserve that much.”
“It’s what you
think
you deserve, honey. I just wish you could see what a blessing that accident was. Losing your memories and being able to start anew – it’s the best thing that could have happened. Oh, Devin. What I’d give to do the same.”
Had life really been so bad? He sympathized with her, he really did, but he still needed to know. He still needed some sort of truth.
“When you were very small, no older than seven, you became really close to another little boy.”
“And that was bad?”
“No, it wasn’t bad. It wasn’t bad in my eyes. I was happy you’d finally gotten close to someone. You called him your best friend.” She smiled and tears glistened in her eyes. “He was a very charming little fellow and you talked about him nonstop. You got on your father’s nerves because you talked about him so much, but I told him, I said, ‘He’s made a friend for life, Sweetheart. Don’t take that from him.’ Good friends are so rare...”
“And I don’t exactly have a lot of them now, do I?” He murmured, staring at the floor. “So what happened then?”
“Well, your little friend came over to visit one day and that’s when,”—she shook her head sadly—“that’s when I discovered the type of person your father truly was.”
“Because of my friend? What did he do?”
“He didn’t do anything. He was a wonderful little gentleman. You went to play in the backyard and I was in the kitchen making some cookies for you to enjoy. I was just so happy that you were happy. You were running and laughing and oh, the smile on your face that day...”
Devin had read a few books during his time at the institute. He knew that what went up always had to come down. There were very few stories where the main character got to be happy all the time. His mother was about to tell him the worst part of it. He knew that in his gut and it made him feel queasy.
“Your father came home after a bad day at work and asked where you’d run off to. I said, ‘He’s out in the yard playing with his friend. I’ll call them in soon for cookies.’ But he wasn’t happy with that answer. You have to understand that your father wanted things done his way, when he wanted them done right then. I still don’t know what possessed him to react the way he did...”
“To what? What was he reacting to?”
“Devin, sweetheart. This is going to come as a shock to you and I don’t want to traumatize you in any way. You’ve been through so much, my sweet boy. You haven’t had time to re-discover yourself.” She lifted a hand to touch his cheek, but hesitated.
Why did she hesitate?
“What happened then, Mother? When he went out to find me?”
“Oh, me. This is so hard to talk about. That’s one of the worst memories for me...”
“Just tell me, Mama. Please.”
Sucking in a deep, shuddery breath, Mrs. Rose nodded and grasped his hand tightly.
“We found the two of you behind the shed.” She averted her gaze and that’s when the tears began to fall. It was a painful memory for her and he knew—he just knew—it was going to be painful for him very soon. But he did not expect to hear the next part. “You were kissing.”
“Kissing?” He blinked. “Excuse me, what?”
“I know that sounds really far-fetched and terrible, but children do the darnedest things, Devin. And there you were, holding his hand and kissing.”
She released his hand to wipe at her eyes and then heaved a sigh.
He was still trying to figure out if he’d misheard her. Kissing?
“Anyway, your father was furious. He flew into a fury and you made it worse. God, you made it worse, Sweetheart.” A sob ripped from her throat and she stood up, pacing the floor. “You ran from him. You and your little friend were fast, but not fast enough. I begged him not to hurt you, but he wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t listen...”
“So he beat me?”
“Oh, God.” She stopped in the middle of the room and closed her eyes, clutching the front of her blouse. “I wish I could say that’s all he did. But you were wearing a necklace your friend had given you. You loved that necklace more than life itself and your father wanted it gone. You were lying there, crying, and he still wasn’t finished with you. He told you to take the necklace off and you told him you couldn’t. You said...you said it was tied on for life. The silly little thing was made out of string and beads, but you treated it like it was worth a million bucks. Looking back on it now, I understand it was truly priceless for a little boy.”
“What happened then, Mama? What did he do?” He was trembling, outraged and bracing himself for the next part of the story.
“He took out his pocket knife and told you to either take it off, or he’d take it off for you.”
His eyes closed to their own accord then. He felt the hot tears rolling down his cheeks and made no effort to wipe them away. This was his past; this was his story. Someone else was telling it, but he had lived it.
“I don’t think he meant to hurt you – that’s what I want to believe.” Her voice cracked and she pressed a hand over her mouth, muffling her sobs. “But he was so angry and when he realized what he’d done, he was so distraught.”
“He cut me because he was trying to cut off a stupid little necklace?” Anger laced his voice as he stared at her. His fingers were like ice and his chest was as tight as a rubber band. “He did it because I was a kid—a fucking kid, Mom. I didn’t know what I was doing!”
“I know that!” She wailed, turning away from him. “Trust me, I know. God, do I know. But you were too close to that boy. You did things...”
“Because kids do the darnedest things, right?”
“Yes, but you don’t understand how your father is. You don’t know what it did to him.” She whirled around to look at him, eyes wide and lips trembling. “Your father was frightened.”
“Frightened? Why? Because there was a small possibility I liked boys instead of girls? Tell me, Mother,”—he stood abruptly and stalked towards her—“if I had been caught kissing a girl...wearing a necklace a girl had made me, would it have ended differently?”
“Devin...”
“Just tell me the truth! Would it have ended differently?”
“Y-yes.”
“Because my father is a bigot?”
“Devin, don’t—”
“It’s the truth, isn’t it? He’s a bigot! And he molded me into what he wanted me to be, didn’t he? He gave me this,”—he jerked his shirt up again to reveal the tattoo—“to make me afraid of being anything other than what he wanted, what he could be proud of?”
“Devin, please. You don’t—”
“I covered this up for a reason, Mama. I know that now. I understand.” He glanced towards the mirror and stared at the dragon on his chest. It was so angry. The fire billowing from its nostrils finally made sense. “I hated him for what he did to me. I hated the person I turned into because of him. He was nothing more than an ugly, scaly beast and this was my way to cover up that bad memory, wasn’t it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know!” She sobbed. “You just came home with it one day. You never told me why you got it.”
“But you knew it was under there, didn’t you? All this time. And you knew what a horrible person he was, but you didn’t stop it. You didn’t take us away from him. You never left him. Why would you stay with someone like that? Why didn’t you protect your kids?”
He hurled questions at her left and right, and even though he didn’t mean to take his anger out on her, it was happening. Mrs. Rose backed away from him and pressed herself against the door, tears flooding down her cheeks.
“You don’t understand how your father is, Devin. You don’t know the connections he has. He could—”
“It doesn’t matter, Mother. You should have protected us. You should have protected me.”
“Oh, God!” She covered her face with her hands and began to cry harder than before. Her shoulders shook with her grief as she nodded rapidly. “I should have. I should have. I’m so sorry.”
Collapsing onto the futon again, he grabbed handfuls of hair and cried with her. Years and years of repressed pain and anger seemed to leak through his eyes, the weight on his shoulders lightening immensely.
“You’re my mother and you didn’t protect me.”
Her arms were suddenly around him, ever so tightly, and she hugged him with all the strength she possessed.
“I’m trying to protect you now, my sweet boy,” she said tearfully. “I wish you could see that. I’m trying to do it right this time.”
Hugging his arms around her, he buried his face against her chest and sniffled. “But I can’t protect you from him.”
“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. I’ve endured his wrath for years. I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not. No one should have to live through that.” He pulled back to stare at her. “Please, tell me I didn’t grow up to be just like him. Tell me that I wasn’t as bad as people say I used to be.”
“Oh, baby. My baby.” Her hand cupped his cheek and her face contorted with pain. “I truly believe you never meant to be the person you became. You were hurting, too. You put up a big wall after that day and I don’t think it ever came down. At least not until now.”
“I hurt people. I did bad things.”
“I know, sweetheart.” She cradled him against her slender frame and rocked him from side to side like a small child. “But you never have to go back to that, Devin. This is a second chance I need you to take. For me.”
“I want to take it, Mother. But what about you?”
“I’m fine,” she repeated again and again, stroking the back of his hair. “Don’t worry about me, my darling. I just want you to focus on being happy. I want you to be happy.”
Sucking in a deep breath, he turned his head to gaze in the mirror, watching his mother as she tried to comfort him.
“Did you hate me for kissing that boy?”
“No.” He watched her smile through their reflections. “Nothing could make me hate you, Devin. Not ever.”
He was relieved by her response, but they still had a lot of ground to cover. Gaining a relationship with her would help him, somehow, and it would make life better.
Well, that, and getting her away from his father.
“You know that guy downstairs?” He asked after a moment. “Nick?”
“He’s a nice man,” she replied, “What about him?”
Straightening up on the futon, he looked her dead in the eye and cleared his throat.
Now or never, she deserved the truth in return.
“He’s sort of my boyfriend.”
Saying that out loud was more liberating than he anticipated, and it made him smile like an idiot. But he still didn’t know how she felt about it.
The seconds ticked by and he became nervous again, feeling his heart pound as his palms became sweaty. Perhaps he should have waited on blurting that out – Nick had never really
said
they were dating.
“Oh. Oh, um. Well, that’s...nice.” She smiled and he could tell it was forced. In the brief time he’d known her, he knew her eyes smiled, too, and right now they were only shining from her previous tears.
“Is it? Mom?” He couldn’t help the disappointment he felt. A part of him had honestly thought they’d bonded, but if she couldn’t accept the fact he might be gay, what hope did they have?
“If that’s what makes you happy.”
“It does make me happy. He makes me happy. In fact, we may just branch out and add another member to our happy little relationship.” He was getting agitated. His temper was short and easily triggered. Try as he might, there was no keeping calm when it came to this particular matter.
Nick was not something he’d ever take lightly.
“What do you mean? You’re going to start practicing polyamory?” Her mouth fell open.
“So what if I do? It’s all about what makes me happy, right?” He stood from the futon and moved to the door. “I’m going to go see if dinner’s ready. Or have you decided not to eat with your potentially polyamorous, gay son?”
“Oh, Devin! Don’t speak to me that way.” She stood and stomped her foot. “Now, I realize that you’ve learned a great deal tonight and it may be causing you stress, but please do not take it out on me. I’m still on your side.”
“Are you sure about that?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Because it sort of seems that you’re not, Mama. It makes me wonder if dear ole Dad’s bigotry has rubbed off on you.”
“Devin!”
He’d gone too far. Shit.
“Oh, you...how could you say that to me? After all I’ve tried to do for you.” She buried her face in her hands and the waterworks were on full display once more.
“Mama...”
“No. No, no.” She shook her head furiously and waggled a finger in the air. “I need to go. Your father will be calling soon and I don’t want to miss him.”
“Fuck him.”
“Devin!”
“What? It’s true, isn’t it? You hate him as much as I do...erm...did. Do. Shit.”