Whispers, Pt. 4

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Whispers

Part Four, by Michelle Wilder

A tiny flash of pink
and the forest comes alive

(This is almost the first story I ever wrote. It's the apple seed from which many grew. Reposted with grammatical revision only.)

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So I cried about my stupid, dumb, dead cat, and how Dennis had told on me and how he hated me no matter what he said because he told, and how everyone knew, and what happened with the... other... stuff too, I guess, and bleeding... It was no use. It was over. They didn’t even know and... it was over.

I tried to tell Anne I was okay after I started to get better, or under control, but I just got even more embarrassed when I realized I did it again, and that she saw me, and Jarrod... and Dennis saw me again too.

It was no use. I wished Dennis hadn’t seen me.

I wished I could just die, I think... like getting that idea, for the first time. I mean, like a plan. The word.

I got quieter, then too, not just calmer.

“I have to...”

Anne didn’t say anything, but she kinda looked more like she was listening, I guess. So I kept saying it. It didn’t matter, anyway.

“I can’t... can’t stay... now, when they... know... They saw me...”

I didn’t want to say die. I had to stop. I didn’t know why I told her that much.

Anne just waited, I think.

I looked at her, really, I guess the first time. She was upset, but like it was okay, and I wasn’t making her mad that I was crying, or disgusting her, I guess.

So I stopped thinking for a while. I was scared of thinking two things, over and over.

-

I ran down, and she waited. Then she talked really softly.

“Dennis?”

I nodded a bit. Whatever she meant, but yeah...

“He says he... it’s okay”

I looked a bit more.

“He only told Jarrod, and he only told me. Really.” She looked at my eyes for a sec.

How could she know?

“He just thought I could help more, okay?”

I guessed she understood, from whatever I said. I tried to think a bit, or get less stressed, anyway, which was like the same thing right then. If... them.. just them?

“Just... just... embarrassing... you guys... know...”

She looked like she was getting an idea or something and took my hand and squeezed it.

“Dennis telling us? Telling Jar?”

I looked down. She squeezed.

“He just was scared you were... that he hurt you.” She sounded serious, but like not-bad? And not making fun of me.

“He didn’t know what to do, or if he’d made it worse? And he left because he thought you wanted him to, *not* to tell anyone.”

I peeked at her. She looked like it was true. She smiled a little, too, then.
“He thought about it, too, for a long time, so he wouldn’t do something dumb? Before he asked Jarrod for help.”

She smiled more, but not funny, more to show she was trying, I think.

“He really wants to be your friend, and I don’t think he’d ever do anything to embarrass you. He’s a nice guy. He called to make sure you were... you made it to your class.”

I looked back at my hands, and hers too, on mine, and thought that if it was only them that knew, if it was over and only they knew, then maybe I could stay, and everything... if the other stuff would stop, like normal...

“I never cry...”

I didn’t want to talk more, but I was really... relieved, I guess, and Anne was smiling like I wasn’t a wimp, even if I was....

I was still afraid what the guys would say, but at least I wasn’t thinking as much about moving out, or leaving, anyway. Awful, cold stuff. Cutting. Worse.

After a long time Anne asked if I was okay with Dennis coming back in, and said if I *ever* wanted to talk I could see her and that it was okay if I cried ‘cause that was normal and *nobody* thought it was wrong and *everyone* cried. She was a girl, though.

And she made sure I knew I could go to see the counselors too and I told her about seeing Ben, and she smiled and said “Then Ben, then?”

I just nodded and smiled weird at that and she laughed a bit and I felt way better. Even if she still didn’t understand that I couldn’t cry like she thought.

Instead of Dennis coming back in, she kinda led me out and we went down the hall to Jarrod’s room. I’d never been in it before. He had a corner one all to himself, and even real furniture, like a sofa and a chair and a fridge.

Anne fake-knocked on the open door.

“Knock, knock, guys!” She was being kinda silly like she was in orientation.

Both of them were there and they both had Cokes and Jarrod asked if we wanted some. Anne pulled me in and down on the sofa between her and Dennis.

He was stiff and his hand crinkled the can and I couldn’t look up further than that, but he didn’t move away when our elbows touched a second, either.

She said it was okay, and I was okay and Dennis was okay and he did the right thing and I was okay with him. Okay?

Jarrod was laughing with her and I think she was kinda like the class clown and they really knew each other well, you could tell. But they made it normal, and we talked about other stuff for a while. They did, Jarrod and Anne, and a little bit Dennis.

I think that was the idea, I mean about being normal. Dennis acted more normal after a while anyway. Like he acts, not the sad way.

Around six, just before they served supper in the cafeteria (it was late on Fridays and a bigger, fancier meal, almost like Sundays, even if fewer students were there), we all went down and sat together and some of the girls from Anne’s wing came in and sat at the table too, and it was nice, ‘cause they hadn’t sat with us before. Dennis and me.

Like any Friday, the cafeteria was pretty empty, with everyone out for the night, or back home for the weekend.

Dennis had said before that he was going to be going home too, and I was going to ask him if he was going right away ‘cause I knew it was a long drive but he was talking to a girl and saying he was gonna be here all weekend if she wanted to come over and maybe they could talk? He was being all charming like he is ‘cause she was smiling in his eyes and the girl beside her was giggling. So I didn’t ask.

I didn’t talk to anyone much except Dennis and Anne and Jarrod, and not even them, much. But nobody looked at me like I was a crybaby, so I guess it was okay. It was okay.

They were talking about a dance over at the student union building and I knew Dennis wanted to go from the way he was smiling at the girls and I knew he wanted to stay ‘cause of what happened, and so I told him I was going to go to the paper and volunteer again. He has the nicest smile.

Or maybe I was just happy he smiled.

-

Dennis walked over to the paper with me and said I had to get Gary to walk me back, or someone, and he went with me right to the office doors, just like Gary.

I promised.

Gary stopped typing something enough to give me a big smile, which was nice too. It was normal. I liked the paper.

Around ten or so, after I finished a read-through of everything that was there, Gary walked me home in the rain with his huge golf umbrella.
We talked about regular stuff, and then, after we’d been quiet for a few moments, he looked over, the way he does.

“You look like you’ve lost weight, I mean, a lot, recently...”

I looked down. Maybe I had. Then I thought I really hadn’t had much appetite, lately.

“I guess....”

He looked at me more. I didn’t want to say, I don’t know... that I was scared?

“I’ve been...” I couldn’t think of anything I could say.

“It’s okay.” He sounded like it was, too, like he trusted me.

He was quiet while we walked more and the rain on the umbrella made tapping noise and I thought. I could see my breath and I wished I’d brough a jacket.

“I’ve...” I had to stop and try again. I hadn’t been planning to say more.

“I was... scared...” I talked at the ground and looked at the puddles and leaves, but I really wanted to tell him. I didn’t know what to say. I didn't even know why.

Everything I could say was stupid or sissy. Sissy.

I just stopped... thinking... and started to feel bad again, like I’d been punched... like everything was useless. I was almost shocked how fast I could feel so bad.

Gary kinda pulled me back closer under the umbrella ‘cause I’d walked sideways from it.

“Hey.” He almost whispered.

Everyone scared me.

I thought again. Gary thinks about what he says. He wouldn’t have said anything if I looked ok.

I straightened up a little and looked up at him. He looked all worried, and I thought of Dennis. And tried to think of what I was going to say.

Except for people looking at me, or laughing, and maybe I was imagining that, everyone was... better? I was just scared. And cried.

And he was scared I was in trouble. That someone was hurting me, maybe. He knew about bad stuff. I wondered for a second if he knew about razor knives.

I shook my head, but I guess I looked horrible, from his face.

“I’ve just been scared... and not eating much, I guess.”

He nodded and waited and I guess it was okay to not say more, but I told him I was seeing Ben, ‘cause that seemed important, like with Anne. I didn’t explain it very well, I think, but he relaxed in his eyes a bit.

He really didn’t say much more, but he made me feel better.

Dennis was in, when we got back, and Gary waved at him, like the last time.

Just before I went in, just before he would have walked back, he stopped and looked at my eyes.

“Will you call me if you need to?”

I nodded, but I couldn’t talk. He nodded and smiled and made a tiny wave and walked away to the stairs.

Right after I closed the door there was a little knock and I opened it again, thinking it was still Gary.

Jarrod was there instead, and smiled at me like he was trying to think what to say.

“Hi, Bobby. Just checking in.” He smiled more. I nodded. Checking in?
“Well, see you at breakfast, maybe. ‘Night.”

I shut the door quietly, again, and went and sat on my bed. Tired. Exhausted. Confused.

Not scared, though.

When I looked over at Dennis, he was thinking, I think. He had our english lit novel open and it looked like he’d read way over half of it already. I’d hardly even started it.

He was looking at me, too.

“Are you still okay with, I mean, the... with me?” He was looking right at my face.

What I thought then was that he was so much like Gary and that he would have gotten mad for those girls and he'd safe-walk people around too. He already did. And he had just been worried for me. Too. I smiled a kind of sad smile, ‘cause I was still sad. Too.

“I’m okay, really.” I tried to smile better. “Thanks.”

He looked at me a bit straighter and smiled a bit too.

“That’s good. I was worried you thought I was being... a... jerk... or something... and I knew I wasn’t, or I wasn’t trying to be, but... y’know?”

I knew, so I nodded and tried to smile. He probably tried too.

He went to get washed up for bed and I put my pack stuff away, finally, and put on my pajamas, or his pajama top anyway, and shorts, but I was too embarrassed to go wash and brush my teeth in it so I wrapped my housecoat so people wouldn’t see it.

I felt like an idiot, but it wasn’t too bad, just so long as I could wear his jammies.

I *am* an idiot... I’d’ve asked Dennis if he thought I was, but it would’ve been too embarrassing.

See?

And Dennis wears the same pajamas. The bottoms.

See?

I know it’s not really the same. He doesn’t pretend.

-

Before I fell asleep he kinda whispered really quietly in the dark.

“Bobby?”

“m?”

“Thanks for... understanding, okay?”

“It's okay...”

I thought about it a bit.

“Thanks, Dennis.”

I almost cried a bit more, remembering what Gary said, and thinking what Dennis did, about just touching me.

But I was quiet.

-

In the morning, ‘cause Saturday was kinda a holiday, I slept late.

I mean I woke up early, but I stayed in bed and listened to my radio turned down so quiet that I wouldn’t wake Dennis.

He had all the covers wrapped up in a kind of big twist around his middle and his legs were sticking out and he was bare on top and it was pretty chilly, but he was still sleeping. He said he was always warm.

He snored a lot, too, but not loud. Just quiet noises.

I wondered if he rolled around or if he messed up the bed on his back... and if he stopped snoring then? I was thinking that I’d have to watch him some night.

His alarm went off and I jumped. He hardly even stopped snoring but just reached over and whacked it and it stopped and then after like five minutes he woke up. He’d stopped snoring right after the alarm, but it was *minutes* before he kinda shivered and opened his eyes and blinked and looked sideways and smiled at me.

“Morning.”

I was smiling at how weird he woke up.

“Morning.” But I kinda laughed, too.

He looked at me like I was being stupid or something.

“What?”

I had to smile more. “Did you know that you wake up *after* you turn off your alarm?”

He thought I was sleeping or something and imagining stuff but I kept trying to tell him how weird it was.

He just said I was still asleep and dreaming a really stupid dream. And he was still asleep too, and I was snoring and bugging him.

-

At breakfast there was a different lady at the cash register ‘cause it was the weekend, which was good ‘cause I was nervous.

Another thing that was different was that Anne and some of the girls from their wing waved us over to eat with them again.

There were six of them, the rest were sleeping in, or home, or whatever, and it was really nice to talk and joke around.

Dennis’d gone to the dance the night before but had left after an hour they said, or asked him about it, anyway, but he knew them all and introduced me, along with Anne. I mean she introduced me too.

They all knew my name, I guess ‘cause I was Dennis’ roomie, and even that I volunteered at the paper, and what classes I was in, and stuff like that, and it was like we had a lot to talk about, even if it was what a blabbermouth Dennis was.

But they just said he mentioned me, and Anne mentioned me, and so on, and he *was* a blabbermouth, yes, but a cute one.

He acted all silly like he didn’t know if he should be insulted, and I said he made noise all night long in his sleep, too...

“I do not!!”

I just nodded and smiled like I knew, and told them about his quiet, little snores.

Kathy, one of the girls, snorted.

“So... like *cute* snores?”

They all started pinching him and doing tiny snort and whistle noises and he was trying to still act mad but he laughed too and finally jumped back from his seat when he started to get ticklish, I think.

“Well, what about Bobby!?” He kinda pointed at me. “When BOBBY sleeps...” He stopped. He looked like he was trying to think up something awful, or embarrassing... Everyone waited and I kinda blushed for I don’t know what. Well, I knew, and that was why.

“Dammit. I always fall asleep first...”

All the girls laughed at him and then he perked up like he remembered.

“He talked in his sleep once!!!” He said it like “Ah Ha!!”

They all looked like it was good gossip and were laughing and giggling and telling him to dish, dish! He just looked less ah ha-ish...

“Well, um, he made, um, noises like talking...”

Everyone looked like he was really lame.

“Any *names*, at least?” Anne made it sound like he was the *worst* gossip she’d ever met.

“Um...” He looked at me like I was the problem. “He didn’t use any consonants, I think...”

They all looked at him with pity. Then they looked at me.

“How do you *live* with someone that boring?” Kathy mentioned, like it was a really nice question.

I looked at Dennis and smiled and tried to fake a yawn and not laugh. He tried to look hurt and I had to look back at Kathy.

“Wellll...” I started to smile too much. “He’s way better than sleeping pills...”

-

I only figured out why they were laughing so hard after we left, and then I was *way* too embarrassed to ask if Dennis knew. Oh, man...

-

I wanted to talk to Ben about all the stuff that happened, but he wasn’t in on holidays. Or weekends. Dennis said he was gonna finish the novel we had to read and I hadn’t hardly started, so I thought I better at least do that.

I like to read laying on my bed but Dennis kinda sits all over the place. I mean, he like moves to a different position every couple of pages almost, against the wall, on his pillow, on the stupid desk chairs, and he finally settled down on his chair with his feet up on the bed. It looked uncomfortable.

After he was that way for about a half hour I had to ask.

“Isn’t that uncomfortable?”

He looked back at me, ‘cause he was almost facing away.
“What?”

I couldn’t tell if he heard me.

“Isn’t that uncomfortable? Sitting like that?”

He looked at his legs, like he didn’t see what I meant, and then back at me. He looked confused.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re all upright in a hard little chair and your legs are straight out and you’re holding the book like, like in the air..?” I tried to make it sound uncomfortable. It *did* sound uncomfortable!

He looked back at his legs and his book, I guess. Then he looked back at me and smiled.

“No?” He grinned. “Why? Are *you* uncomfortable with the way I’m sitting?”

“No! Yes! It just *looks* so... so awkward! Isn’t your neck sore?” I tried to make uncomfortable face too.

He laughed at me a sec.

“Hey, *I’m* almost finished the book!” He waved it and he had about three pages to go. I had about three pages read.

“I can’t understand what he’s saying!”

He gave me a look, like I was being stupid.

“I mean, what he means, I mean, I *understand* but I can’t get interested because he keeps on... I mean he uses that old-fashioned style, with all the big words...”

I sounded stupid.

“Gimmie five minutes, okay? Just five minutes and I’ll be finished it, okay?”

He didn’t sound like he was making fun of me.

I nodded okay and he just turned around and sat up again and read.
I tried, but it was still as boring and I was thinking more about what he meant. I was on page seven for like the fifth time.

“Okay!” Dennis kinda slammed his book closed, or woulda, if it wasn’t a paperback. He moved over to his bed and pushed the chair away and sat facing me.

“Let’s try something.” He opened his book back up to the first page.

“I’ll read the first paragraph and you read the second one, okay?” He looked at me like it was normal. I think ‘cause I looked like it wasn’t.

“Out loud. Look, Justin and I used to study plays this way and it works, okay?”

I tried to look like it was okay, even if it sounded weird. He started to read.

“It had been an auspicious week for Captain Rodrigo Jose Figueras...”

He made it sound like normal talking and I tried to copy him, and just said the words for the next paragraph.

But I still had trouble with the way it was written, with how it didn’t seem like anyone really talked.

He stopped me after just a few sentences and came over and sat beside me and kinda looked at me if it was okay? I nodded.

“Okay.” He closed his book and put it down beside him and then moved closer and took my book and held it open in front of both of us.

“Read along with me, but in your head, okay? And if you see a word you don’t understand, or a sentence that doesn’t... work?... anything that you don’t understand or anything, just point to it when I get to saying it, if you still don’t, okay?”

He said that was the way he learned Shakespeare.

He started reading, “It had been an auspicious week...”

When he read, it sounded normal. Smart, but normal. And when I pointed to a word he kinda said it and some other word or sentence, like in commas, that explained it, and kept reading, and it sounded normal. Some of it was Spanish and he spoke it pretty well.

And in half an hour we finished the first four chapters! And it all made sense!

He grinned at me, or my face, I guess, when I turned the page and it was chapter five and I wanted to keep reading and *liked* the story!

“See?”

I was suddenly embarrassed that he was so smart or something, but he just smiled and looked at the book again.

I read every second paragraph this time, and he told me meanings just the same.

“The Indians of the Andes believe in the existence of angels...”

-----

End of Part Four

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Comments

Overcoming Fear

terrynaut's picture

Ah. I see a turning point in this chapter. I'm very relieved.

It's nice to have so many supportive people (dare I say, friends?) around Bobby. They're gently nudging him out of his fearful domain and into the light. I really like it.

Thanks for the chapter.

- Terry

Whispers, Pt. 4

How long before he admits to his past?

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Nice story

Hits a bit close to home however.
Hilltopper

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