KarMel Scholarship 2004
|
“Moving Confessions” By
Desciption
of Submission: “A fictional story
about an 18 year old boy named Ian trying to live his life with an older man
(Michael). Michael, who is 8 years older, is moving to |
As
Ian paced wearily up and down the shabby oriental carpeted hallway, he glanced
at the grandfather clock lazily swaying in time. My own grandfather would never have been so calm at a time like this,
he thought bitterly, clenching his fists again. It was raining harder than
hail, each smooth drop pounding the window near to its shattering point. The
front door crept open unnoticed. Once dispensed of his muddy boots, beaten
leather jacket and English driver’s cap, Michael peered up the stairs.
“Ian?”
In a flash, Ian tore down the spiral
staircase, nearly tripping over the obese ginger cat on the third step. “Where
the hell have you been?” he snapped.
“Relax.
I was at a conference. You knew that.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know you’d get
home at
“Well,”
Michael started patiently, “I wasn’t actually at the meeting the whole time.
Afterward, Chris and I-“
“Who’s
Chris?”
“-went
out for drinks, then walked around the campus looking at the so-called art on
the library green.” He peeled his wet
sweater over his head. “Chris, by the way, is a financial aid advisor.”
Ian sat sulkily on the bottom step. He had sneaked
out of his grandfather’s house to see Michael and instead had spent 4 hours
waiting for him to come home. If his grandfather found out he had broken
curfew, he’d be toast. Burnt toast. Michael touched
Ian’s face gently. “What are you so sore about?”
“Do
you know how long I’ve been waiting for you?”
“Does
it matter? I’m here now. Besides, I didn’t ask you to come. Your grandfather
will kill you. I can’t excuse this episode as private tutoring, like I did last
time.”
“I
know.” He sighed, wondering how he could climb back into his window unnoticed.
If the rain stayed hard enough, it might be noisy enough….
Michael kissed Ian’s forehead, then his
cheek. “What are you doing here?”
“I…I
want to see you as much as I can before you leave for
Michael smiled and put an arm around his
shoulders. “Have you decided what college you’re going to in the fall?”
“Well,”
he said sheepishly, “I was thinking of the university, but now I have no reason
to go there if you’re not teaching anymore. What does it matter, anyway? I’m
not cut out for college.”
“Of
course you are. You just don’t have any faith in yourself. Sometimes, listening
to you talk about yourself really intensifies the age difference.”
“Does
it?” Ian asked bitterly. He hated being younger than Michael, it made him feel
so… adolescent. As if Michael was some great wise man and he was just some
kid.
“I
know you hate it when I say that, but it’s true. I’ve had eight more years to
experience life than you. It’s not a bad thing, just the truth. I’ve learned
more.” He casually ruffled Ian’s hair. “Besides, younger is often better. Hell,
I wish I was still 18 sometimes.”
“Yeah,
it’s a blast. Still living with my grandpa, having to hide my
life from him. Fantastic.”
Michael lifted Ian’s head and kissed him.
Ian smiled, but only faintly. That may have been the last time he would feel
Michael’s lips on his. “This isn’t good-bye, you know.” Michael said finally.
“Yes,
because your living in
“Ian,
you know I love you.”
Ian froze. Michael never joked about love, never talked about it, probably never thought about it. He was not the type to get caught in a fit of passion and spout pretty words that meant nothing the next morning. No, Michael was cautious with his heart and his words. Ian looked into his eyes, eyes that never lied or hurt and always understood when nothing was being said. Eyes that now told him love was the most obvious explanation for everything. “No,” he said finally, “I didn’t know.”
“I
do. And I don’t want to leave you here alone. I want you to come with me.”
“What?”
“Come
to
“Michael, I…just
leave? What would I do for work? I could never get into school out there…
What would I do if…? Jesus Michael, this almost sounds like a marriage proposal.”
“I
guess in a way, it is.”
“I-“ he started, but lost the thought halfway. “I can’t...” he
tried again. “Michael,” he said finally, “I’m eighteen years old. You don’t
want to be stuck with me. I can’t even go to bars with you! I can’t even rent a
car!”
“Ian,
have you ever known me to tell you something I didn’t mean?”
Ian though back. No, Michael was honest
about his feelings. Right from the start, he never hesitated (to Ian’s dismay) how
unlikely it would be that they’d last long, or that Michael would stick around
their small town forever. “No, you never have.” he concluded.
“Then
come with me. Please.”
“…Okay.”
was all he could think to say.
Michael pulled him close, deeply breathing
in the sweetness of the coconut shampoo in his hair. This was possibly the only
crazy thing he’d ever done in his life, but couldn’t find any reason to regret
it. “I love you.” he whispered again, more to confirm with himself that he had
actually said it. “But Ian,” he said finally, “you have to tell your
grandfather. You can’t just leave.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Grandpa,”
Ian said hesitantly over breakfast, “I have to tell you something. It’s pretty
big, so just let me finish before you get mad.”
The
grumpy redneck popped open his pull tab beer can. “Is it, now?” he grunted. “Okay,
shoot. My ticker is ready. You not going to college
this fall?”
“Well,
I’m not sure yet. But I guarantee your ticker isn’t ready for this.” He took a
deep breath, the bacon turning nastily against him in his stomach. “I’ve been
seeing someone. For the past nine months.”
“Yeah, I kinda figgered. You been
sneakin out at night ‘an all. What’s the big secret? She
ugly?”
“No,
the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”
“She illegal?”
“No, definitely not younger. Quite the
opposite.”
“An older woman, eh? How much older?”
Ian gulped. “Eight years.”
“….Huh.
Twenty-six, right? Well, I guess that ain’t so bad.”
“No,
that’s not bad. Trust me, the age is the easiest part
to swallow…”