Date: Tue, 20 Nov 2001 10:50:48 -0800
From: D S <denis141@hotmail.com>
Subject: ALONE/TOGETHER- Chapter 14 ~ The Sense of What Is Real
As Monty Python would say, and now for something completely different.
Well, not completely, but it is likely to seem so to some. In any case,
this is the next chapter in the Alone/Together series; and, in many
respects, it picks up where the last chapter left off, but ...well, you'll
see. I suppose lots of people are going to hate it, especially those who
thought in the last chapter Lance and JC should have sat down and had a very
long talk. I'm sorry to have disappointed those people, but that just
seemed wrong to me, and - even worse - sort of boring. Anyway, enough of me
rambling on. Send your feedback to denis141@hotmail.com
DISCLAIMER: I don't know any member NSYNC, and this story, well, I made the
whole damn thing up. Yeah, and one more thing, this story has sex in it
(although not as much as some would like), so, if that's not your thing, or
if you ain't old enough, you should stop reading now.
ALONE/TOGETHER
CHAPTER 14: The Sense of What Is Real.
THERE was a child went forth every day;
And the first object he look'd upon, that object he became;
And that object became part of him for the day, or a certain part of the day
or for many
years, or stretching cycles of years....
Affection that will be gainsay'd - the sense of what is real - the thought
if, after all,
it should prove unreal,
The doubts of day-time and the doubts of night-time - the curious whether
and how,
Whether that which appears so is so, or is it all flashes and specks?
-- Walt Whitman, There Was A Child Went Forth.
(from Leaves of Grass, 1900)
"We can't buy him a car today," JC said.
"Why not," Lance said, folding the front section of the newspaper and
laying it on the dining room table. "He turned sixteen over a month ago."
"I know," JC said. "I'm the one that made the cake, remember?"
"Yeah," Lance said, laughing. "It was good too."
"Do you want some more coffee," JC asked, standing up and walking over to
the coffeemaker.
"No," Lance said, looking up at JC and smiling. "But I'll take another
kiss."
JC set his coffee cup on the counter and then walked over to Lance and sat
in his lap, putting his arms around Lance's neck as he did so. Lance leaned
forward and kissed JC, softly at first, but then more firmly, pressing his
lips apart and running his tongue across JC's teeth. JC nipped at the tip
of Lance's tongue and sucked it deeper into his mouth, making a humming
noise deep within his throat and pulling Lance closer to him. JC could feel
Lance getting hard as the kiss continued, becoming more intense, more than
just a good morning kiss at the breakfast table.
"Man... do you two ever stop?"
JC stood up, startled at the sudden interruption, and embarrassed.
"Aaron," Lance said, grabbing the newspaper off the table and putting it on
his lap to cover the obvious bulge in the front of his pants. "You're up
early."
"Yeah," Aaron said, scratching his eyebrow. "I couldn't sleep."
JC reached out and took Aaron's bare arm and pulled him toward the table.
"Sit down," JC said. "I'll get you some breakfast."
"Just coffee would be good," Aaron said, pulling out a chair and sitting in
it.
Aaron was wearing only basketball shorts, long and loose, with the Duke
insignia on them. Sitting down, he had thrown one leg over the arm of the
chair, and he was now rubbing his heel.
"Does it still hurt?" Lance asked, pointing at Aaron's heel.
"Yeah," Aaron said, frowning. "The doctor said I bruised the bone, and I'm
not supposed to play in the next game."
"Did you tell the coach that?" JC said, handing Aaron his coffee.
"Are you kidding?" Aaron said. "I'm not missing that freakin' game. It's
against El Cajon."
"Hey," JC said, lightly slapping the back of Aaron's head. "If the doctor
said you aren't supposed to play, then you aren't playing. End of
discussion."
"Whatever," Aaron said, taking a long and intentionally noisy slurp of
coffee and grabbing the sports section from the pile of newspapers on the
table.
"So, Aaron," Lance said, smiling. "How about you and me go to look at some
cars today?"
"What?" Aaron said, tossing the sports section on the floor next to the
table. "You mean to buy one?"
"That's what I was thinking" Lance said, ignoring the fact that JC was
almost certainly glaring at him right about then. "You just got your
license, right?"
"Hell, yeah," Aaron said, standing up quickly and almost knocking over the
chair he'd been sitting in. "Can we go right now?"
"I think you need to take a shower first," JC said. "And get some clothes
on."
"Okay, okay, okay" Aaron said, smirking at JC, and then giving him a quick
kiss on the cheek.
JC watched Aaron turn and run towards his room, limping slightly each time
his left heel hit the floor. Aaron's hair was wavy, dark, and long, almost
to his shoulders, which were muscled and deeply tanned. Aaron was over six
feet tall, taller now than both JC and Lance, and he was obviously an
athlete. Even with a sore heel, he moved with strong confidence, each long
stride was purposeful and full of power.
"Lance," JC said, slapping him lightly on the back of the head.
"Geez, is it your day to whack people, or what?" Lance said, rubbing the
spot that JC had just slapped, and laughing.
"Yeah, ha-ha," JC said, picking Aaron's coffee cup up off the table and
walking to the sink with it. "I thought we'd decided no car today...or did
you forget that part?"
"I didn't forget anything, Josh," Lance said. "It was you who decided no
car today, not me."
"Well, that's not exactly fair, now is it?" JC said, clearly perturbed.
"What isn't?" Lance asked. "For me to decide that we shouldn't walk around
on eggshells just because this is the anniversary of the day that Joey and
Mel died?"
"Keep you voice down, Lance," JC said, shushing him. "He'll hear us."
"Sorry," Lance said, listening now for the sound of the shower down the
hall to make sure that Aaron was out of hearing range.
"But of course that's why I think we shouldn't be buying Aaron a car
today," JC whispered. "It'll just seem like a bribe, and like we're trying
to make sure he's distracted from thinking about his parents."
"Josh, I really don't see what's wrong with trying to keep his mind off of
things," Lance said, whispering now too.
JC's eyes were full of inarticulate sadness and, seeing this, Lance walked
over to him and cupped JC's face in his two hands and then kissed him.
"JC," Lance said. "Joey was my best friend, and you know I miss him too.
But it was fourteen years ago, and I really think that Aaron is old enough
to deal with this in his own way now. He'll let us know if he needs
anything."
"That's the point though, Lance," JC said. "I don't think he will. He's
too much like you that way, always keeping things bottled up."
"Hey, don't blame me. He's Joey's kid," Lance said, trying to be funny, but
then hating the sound of the words that had just come from his mouth, and
wishing he'd not just said them.
"Wait," Lance continued, cringing a little. "That's not what I meant. What
I meant to say was that I don't understand you saying that Aaron is like me.
I mean that would be great... mostly, but, you know, he's not really my son,
he's Joey's."
"No, Lance," JC said. "You're wrong. He's not Joey's son anymore. Aaron
is our son now, yours and mine, and he has been that way for almost his
whole life. We're all he knows, and if it goes wrong, Lance, and if Aaron
ends up being messed up in life, or unhappy...sweetie, it's all on us. And I
really think you need to accept that. It's not like we're still just
babysitting him for the weekend. We're his family."
"You're right. I know." Lance said, leaning against the counter now, and
looking out through the kitchen window at the avocado tree as it swayed back
and forth, pushed by a strong ocean breeze, its leaves seeming to sparkle in
the morning sun. "I just don't know why it's still so scary for me. It's
like I'm still afraid that I'll drop him, and he'll break in two."
"Lance, you've not dropped him yet," JC said, pulling Lance into his arms.
"And he's never broken in two. So I'd say you're doing okay so far."
"You think?" Lance said, kissing JC, and then looking into his eyes. "Do
you really think so?"
"Yeah, I do," JC said. "And I think that Aaron thinks so too."
"I hope," Lance said.
"So," JC said. "Do you really want to get him that car today?"
"Yes, I really do," Lance said, smiling at JC and wanting nothing more than
to kiss him again, and then doing so. "It's all he talks about lately."
"Okay," JC said, pulling out of Lance's embrace and putting Aaron's coffee
cup in the dishwasher. "Then I think you should do it. But nothing too
expensive, Lance. I don't want him driving around in a car that looks like
Justin bought it for him. And God only knows you've spoiled him enough as it
is."
"What!" Lance said, slapping JC lightly on the back of the head. "You
think I spoil him, Mr. Joshua
He-Should-Really-Have-A-Gold-American-Express-Card-In-Case-Of-Emergencies
Bass-Chasez."
"Shut-up," JC said, laughing and throwing the dish-towel at Lance.
* * * * *
The lather had long been down the drain, but the water from the showerhead
was still hot and it felt nice against his skin, so Aaron continued to stand
there, letting it flow over him, with his chin pressed down against his
chest so that the spray hit the back of his head and flowed down between his
shoulder blades and back and butt and legs. Aaron's eyes were tightly
closed, and his hands were closed into two tight fists, and his arms were
crossed against his chest. He was trying hard not to think of how the
whispers had started as soon as he'd left the kitchen, the whispers that
happened every year on this day, the whispers of Don't you know what day it
is?
Of course he knew what day it was; it was the day that his parents had
died, two people called Mel and Joey Fatone. He knew it even though he had
no memory of it. He knew it like you knew that two plus two equaled four.
He knew it because someone told him it was true, and it would always be
true, and that he could believe it, believe that he'd been barely two years
old on that day, April 6, 2006, and believe that he'd been staying with
Lance and JC for the weekend while his mom and dad were away somewhere,
somewhere away for just a little while, but then suddenly and unexpectedly
away for good. He barely remembered them now; but he remembered how Lance
had held him on that day. How do I remember that?
Aaron turned off the water, pulled the shower curtain to one side, and
stepped out the tub. He knew this was the day that they died, but be didn't
feel sad about it. He never felt sad about it, and it bothered him, because
Aaron knew that people expected him to be sad, to feel sad, even though he
didn't feel anything at all, not about this, because it was like he had lost
something he never knew he'd had. So how can that be a loss?
He'd tried to tell them once, Lance and JC, tell them once when he was like
seven or eight. He'd tried tell them he didn't feel sad, and that he didn't
want them to feel sad, not anymore, because it was okay, and he was not
alone, he was with Lance and JC, and he was happy being with them, not sad.
But the first word out of Aaron's mouth, just as he was about to tell Lance
that it was okay not to be sad, the first word that came out was "Dad," and
Lance looked like he'd just been punched in the stomach, and JC had turned
around from what he was doing, turned around so fast that he almost lost his
balance. I really thought he might fall, but he didn't.
And so the second word out of Aaron's mouth had been "What?" And then the
silence seemed to go on forever, and JC and Lance were both staring at him,
with their mouths open, not saying anything, until he couldn't stand it
anymore, and he ran to his room and slammed the door, and listened to Lance
and JC talking in loud whispers that he could not quite hear, but he knew it
was about him. All I did was call you dad.
That was the day that made Aaron feel sad now to remember. Not the day his
mom and dad had died, but the day he'd called Lance "dad" and suddenly found
out that he had lost something after all: he had lost the right to call
someone "dad," and that was what made Aaron sad right now, because it was on
that day Aaron learned that loss was about things you could no longer say.
But I want to say it.
* * * * *
"You ready in there," Lance said, speaking to the door to Aaron's bedroom.
"Yeah, come in," Aaron yelled from the other side of door.
Lance opened the door and saw Aaron sitting on the edge of the bed staring
at his still unlaced shoes.
"You don't look ready," Lance said. "Is something wrong?"
"No," Aaron said, reaching out to tie one unlaced shoe and then stopping.
"Hey," Lance said, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Aaron. "What's
up? I thought you'd be climbing the walls to get to the car lot."
Aaron mumbled something indiscernible to Lance and then started again
toward tying one shoe, this time completing the task, but still leaving the
other shoe untied, as if the strain of tying just one had been too much, and
he needed to rest from the effort of it.
"Is it about the basketball game?" Lance asked. "Because maybe we could
take you back into the doctor to see if there's something he could do so you
can play."
"It's not about the game," Aaron said. "It's just nothing."
"Aaron," Lance said, grabbing his shoulder and turning Aaron towards him.
"I want you to look at me."
"Okay," Aaron said, raising his voice, and brushing Lance's hand off his
shoulder, but still making the eye contact that Lance had demanded.
"You know you can't lie to me," Lance said, trying to keep his voice light
and not too serious-sounding. "JC you can bamboozle for days, but not me,
remember?"
Aaron laughed and flopped back on to the bed, covering his face with his
eyes.
"We can get the car another day," Lance continued. "I mean, if you'd
rather do it some other time, I totally understand."
"What do you understand?" Aaron said, all of a sudden angry and pulling his
arms from his face, and then slapping them against the bed, and standing up.
"What is it you understand?"
Lance was taken aback at Aaron's sudden anger, an anger he hardly
recognized in a boy that had always been so even-tempered, and patient, like
JC almost, and so unlike himself. But there it was, like an eruption of
some kind, and Lance was shocked by how surprising it seemed despite its
feeling of utter familiarity.
"Well," Lance said, not knowing how else to begin. "Maybe I don't
understand, Aaron. But I try to. I try the best I can. And what I think I
understand is that you might be feeling sad today because, you know, it's
the day your parents died in the plane crash. And I understand that maybe
you'd rather get your car on a day that isn't so sad."
"It's not sad," Aaron said, still angry, spitting out each word like it was
something foul-tasting he'd eaten by mistake. "I'm not sad. You always
think I'm sad, but I'm not. It's you that's sad. I'M NOT SAD!"
"Whoa," Lance said, his own voice now edgy and full of anger. "Number one,
don't talk to me that way, ever, do you get that?"
Lance stood up, his face and neck flushed, and his lips pressed tightly
together as he struggled to keep his voice steady.
"I said, do you get that?"
"Yes," Aaron said, head down, his voice still angry, but quieter now.
"Number two, if you have something you want me to understand, then you need
to tell me about it, because if you don't, all I can do is guess. And, you
know what? I just might guess wrong. And if I do guess wrong, Aaron, it'll
be your own fault, not mine. Do you understand that?"
"Yeah," Aaron said, still more quietly, his voice drained of all anger now.
"And I want you to understand something else, Aaron, and I want you to
listen real well, because this is important."
Lance paused and waited for Aaron to look up, but he didn't.
"Look at me Aaron," Lance said, lifting Aaron's chin and holding. "Fifteen
years ago I almost lost Josh because I was too stupid, and too scared, to
tell him that I'd made a big mistake in my life, in our life. I'd cheated
on him, and thought for a while that I was in love with someone else, and it
all just got so messed up until I just didn't know what to do and how to
act, because I just felt so horrible about it all, and felt so guilty, and
all I really wanted was to say was how sorry I was, and to ask Josh to
please forgive me and please not stop loving me. That was all. But for
some reason I couldn't do it. Maybe it was pride. I don't know. But
mostly it was just fear, fear that if I asked for something I really wanted,
he might say no. And so I never asked, and it almost wrecked everything."
"But it didn't," Aaron said, his voice young and small and weak.
"No, it didn't," Lance said, tears beginning to form in his eyes.
"I'm glad," Aaron said, tears in his eyes too. "I'm glad that you guys
were together, you know, when it happened, so I could come here."
"So am I," Lance said. "Now is there something you need me to understand?"
"Yes," Aaron said.
"All right," Lance said. "So tell me."
"I really hate calling you Lance," Aaron said, looking down at his one
untied shoe, unable to look Lance in the eyes right now.
"You hate calling me Lance?"
"Yeah, I hate it," Aaron said, stealing a quick look at Lance, and then
looking down at his shoe again. "I want to call you dad."
Lance could see Aaron's shoulders begin to tremble. Lance put a hand on
each of the shoulders, squeezing them as if to stop the trembling. Aaron
looked up at Lance with eyes full of tears, and he could see that Lance had
tears in his eyes too.
"I want to call you dad," Aaron said again, this time louder.
"Dad?"
"Yeah," Aaron said. "Ever since I was little."
"But Joey was your dad," Lance said. "And he was my best friend."
Aaron could see that Lance was afraid. He didn't know what he was afraid
of, but Aaron could see the fear because it was plain on Lance's face.
Aaron paused, thinking hard, and trying to sort his feelings and translate
them into words that might make sense, holding them back, like water behind
a dam, until he couldn't hold them back anymore, and the words flooded from
Aaron's mouth, rushing from him so quickly he hardly had time to speak each
word before the next one came rushing out, so quickly that he had to let the
words speak themselves, so quickly he could barely hear them.
"But he trusted me to you, and to JC, and I don't remember him. I try to,
all the time I try to, I really do, but I don't, I don't remember him, and I
can't, because it's just not there, except there is something here right
now, you're here, because I do have a dad, a real dad, and it's you, and...I
really don't want you to be mad, I don't want you to be mad because to me
you're really my dad, and that's what I want to call you...dad."
Aaron gasped and gulped in several deep breaths of air. He stared at
Lance, his eyes continuing to plead his case now that his words had ceased
to do so.
"I don't know what to say," Lance said, speaking slowly, carefully. "I
just wish you'd told me before, you know?"
"Yeah, I know," Aaron said. "I tried, and then I was too afraid to try
again. I didn't want you to be mad at me."
"Aaron, I love you," Lance said. "You know that, don't you?"
"Yeah, I know," Aaron said. "I mean, would I be asking to call you my dad
if I didn't know that?"
Lance laughed, a long soft laugh, and pulled Aaron into a long, strong hug.
Aaron rested his head on Lance's shoulder and then, after a while, pulled
away and sat again on the edge of the bed.
"So, dad it is then," Lance said, smiling at Aaron as he finally tied his
other shoe.
"Cool," Aaron said, his head nodding happily, and wiping his eyes and nose
on the back of his sweatshirt sleeve.
"But there's one condition," Lance said, trying to sound serious, but
beginning to laugh instead. "You can't call Josh mom."
Lance kicked gently at the tip of Aaron's shoe, still laughing, and happy
to see Aaron laughing too, and then standing up.
"Actually, I was thinking of calling him pop," Aaron said.
* * * * *
Aaron and Lance found JC downstairs in the basement folding clothes fresh
from the dryer. He hadn't heard them come down the stairs at first, and he
was singing an old NSync song that Aaron vaguely recognized, but he didn't
know its name.
"Hey, Josh," Lance said, trying not to startle JC, who seemed pretty much
in his own little world at the moment.
"Huh," JC said, turning around, not frightened by the sudden interruption,
but still surprised, and a little embarrassed at having been caught singing.
"Aaron wants you to come along and look at cars with us," Lance said,
smiling.
"Yeah, pop," Aaron said, smiling too. "Dad said if I get something too
flashy, we're both gonna get killed, so I figure you better come along too,
just to be safe."
JC looked confused at first, but then he knew, knew that the connection
between Aaron and Lance that had always been there, unspoken but there, had
finally been spoken and now named; and he knew - just as he had always
known, but really knew now - that standing there, the three of them
together, they were a family, as real as any other; and it made him happy,
as happy as it was possible to be.