Gabe - Twenty Two

Gabe

            It took me years to tell Erich this, but I woke up first that morning. I woke up with my face pressed to his chest, knowing with certainty what we had done. Before I even remembered everything, I could tell. I could tell by the familiar ache that had, by now, spread through most of my body. I could tell by the way the room stank of smoke and sweat and seamen. I could tell by the leftover feeling of fear and elation and awe, and just a small twinge of sadness that made me miss the naive, confused boy from Yorkshire who went away to Italy just two years ago and came back wounded and heartsick and missing his innocence.

            I didn’t wake Erich up. If I was a better person, maybe I would have. I should have shaken him awake and explained to him what had happened, instead of letting him remember it for himself. Maybe I could have calmed him down and saved him the inner turmoil that morning brought for him. But instead, I touched his sleeping face and smiled. I breathed in deeply Erich’s painfully familiar smell - whiskey and sweat and a stolen dash of Jim’s cologne - and closed my eyes again.

            I knew what would happen when he woke up. He would be confused, then angry, then he would deny it, and then he would leave. Maybe he would hit me, but I doubted it. I didn’t want to believe that Erich would stoop to that after last night. I didn’t want to believe that he could continue to deny everything. Instead, I imagined what I prayed might happen when he woke up. I imagined that I would feel him stir next to me, that he would stroke my hair for a minute and watch me sleep, then kiss me and tell me it was time to wake up. I imagined I would lie in his arms and we would talk about what had happened and what we would do next. I imagined that Erich would tell me how glad he was to be with me, and then he would kiss both my hands before he got out of bed, like Leo used to.

            Erich was not Leo, and I should have thanked God for that. But right then, all I wanted was for Erich to be a little more like him. I wanted Erich to accept what he was, like Leo had. I knew that, even after this, Erich would find a way to convince himself that he was just a regular guy who had made particularly big mistake. Before I fell back to sleep, I touched my rosary and sent up a silent prayer that, for once, Erich would just understand.

            When I woke up the second time, Erich was gone. I thought maybe he was gone for good. I sat up in bed an buried my face in my hands, wondering if it was really possible that he had left without saying anything. I was too foggy to realize he was right there in the room with me.

            When the light went on, I was terrified. I rushed to pull up my pants; I knew that even if Erich wasn't the one who had turned on the lights, this would look bad to anyone. But it was him, and looking back at the confusion and anger in his eyes, I realized there was absolutely nothing I could say to make this better. I tried, God help me, I tried. But all I managed was a pathetic, "Erich, don't." I didn't even know what I was telling him not to do.

            Then he remembered. There was nothing I could do but watch in terror as the memory wash over him, watched him try to fight it back, watched the reality of the situation drain the color from his face. I had barely managed to get a word in. The pleading desperation in my own voice shocked me: “Erich, please!” Even if he had let me finish, I wouldn’t have known what to say. Please what? What did I want? For him to listen to me, to accept me, to love me? I couldn’t say any of that. Please. It was the only word I could have used. And it went unheard. The door slammed behind him.

            After he was gone, I sat back down on the bed and fought back pathetic, useless tears. I was sore I could hardly stay upright anyway. With my face in my hands, I tried to work out what I could do next.

            The easy option seemed obvious: I could leave. I could pack up now and get on the train to Yorkshire and forget about Erich, like he obviously planned to forget about me. There would be someone else, somewhere down the line. Even as I thought that, I didn’t believe it. There would never be anyone I cared about like Erich, no one I felt the need to protect, to save. No one would make me feel like he had. I knew, with even more certainty than I had known my feelings for Leo, that Erich was the only one I was meant to be with.

But even a life devoid of Erich seemed almost as bad as the fight we were bound to have if I went after him now. If I tried to talk sense to him I would most likely end up even more hurt, physically or otherwise, and lose him anyway.

            I couldn’t go to Jim or Hersch; neither of them would ever understand, even if they didn’t think I was sick. I realized the only person in the world who might be able to help me was right upstairs, Rebecca. She had been so caring and so sympathetic the night of the air raid, I thought maybe she would know what to do. It was the closest thing to a plan I had. I threw on a shirt and was out the door before I could think it through. On my way, I saw Hersch storming through the halls, and wondered for a minute if I wasn’t the only one with the world was crashing around him.

            Everything might have been different if I had actually found Rebecca in her room. She probably would have advised me to do what I did anyway, but I still think everything unraveled like it did because I couldn’t find her. In the weeks following that day, I found myself constantly wondering what could have happened to make that last day at Wellington’s end differently than it did. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Instead of Rebecca, I found Jim in her room.

            Until that moment, I hadn’t even considered the fact that Erich and I had seriously risked being discovered my Hersch and Jim. The thought that neither of them had come back to the dorm all night never even crossed my mind. Now I knew where Jim was, at least. He was bent over on the edge of the bed, nervously rubbing his head. So everyone was in trouble this morning. I must have scared him. “F**k, Moretti, what the hell?”

            I didn’t have time to figure out what was wrong with him. I was willing to bet that I had bigger problems. “Is Rebecca here?”

            “No, she went down to breakfast. I...” he studied me, looking seriously concerned. “What the hell happened to you?”

            I knew why he was worried. Before leaving the dorm, I had caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I knew I looked awful. Even my lips were sore; I had never been kissed so hard that they bruised. “Christ, sit down, will you?”

            Jim was, I knew, not the person to talk to about this. Like him as much as I did, of all the people in the world, he would never, ever understand. Still, the secret was fighting to get out, and I stood there in the door, trying to fight down the words. I knew that if I sat down, I would tell him. All I could do was sputter uselessly and bolt from the room. I could hear him coming after me, but I didn’t dare turn around. With nowhere else to go, I headed back to the dorm.

            I should have known he was in there, since the door was propped open when I arrived back at the dorm. But I still froze up in terror when I walked into the room and saw Erich standing there. This was it, I knew. I had one more chance to appeal to him, to make him see that I wasn’t trying to destroy him or ruin him To make him see himself for who he was.

            Erich was angrily throwing his few possessions into his trunk. He was wearing the clothes he had arrived at Wellington’s in, brown pants and a thick grey sweater, having changed out of his dirty clothes and thrown his uniform over the chair. The sight took me back to the first moment I met him, when I first felt the fear and awe that never ceased to paralyze me when he came close. We just looked at each other for a long minute, both of us completely unsure of what to say in this unbelievable situation. Looking back at Erich, the boy I had had sex with the night before, my best friend, the terrifying German runaway who had saved my life on more than one occasion, I felt so many crippling emotions I didn’t even know where to begin.

            Erich didn’t seem to know what to say either. He slammed his trunk shut and moved for the door, obviously hoping he could get by me without saying anything at all. With a terrified breath, I stepped in his way. That made him angry.

            “Get out of my way, Moretti,” he growled. He wouldn’t even use my name. “Don’t make me knock you down.” Erich made a threatening move towards me, but he stopped short when I stood my ground.

            I tried to keep my voice from shaking, tried to sound much calmer than I was. “Erich, we have to talk about this,” I said quietly, my heart hammering.

            Erich breathed in sharply, trying hard to keep his anger under control. I knew he had the force to make me move, but for whatever reason, he was trying to keep his rage at bay. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he seethed. “And you had better get out of my way if you don’t want me to report what you did to me.”

            So that was his plan. He didn’t have to hurt me to make me feel threatened. As long as he felt had the upper hand, he could keep himself under control.

            Nothing he could have said would have made me angrier. Not only because he was threatening to have me arrested for something we both did, but because I knew the truth of what had happened last night. I had a perfectly clear memory of trying to stop him, of feeling like I was taking advantage of him, of trying to get to the door. It was Erich who had come after me. He was the one who had wanted it, and I wasn’t about to let him tell me it was the other way around. “Oh yeah?” I took a step towards him, swallowing my fear. “What I did to you? That’s not how I remember it.”

            “Moretti...”

            I could see by the fear in his eyes that he knew the truth. “You’re a bloody liar if you try to tell me you don’t remember how it happened. I tried to stop you, Erich!”

            “Oh, don’t give me that,” he growled. “You gave up after one second. Tried stop me, did you? Well you did a goddamn s**t job of it!” He didn’t even realize it, but he had just admitted to me that he remembered.

            I was walking a fine line, because he was right. There was no denying that my attempts to leave were halfhearted, to say the least. I had given up trying to stop myself as soon as Erich came after me. I hadn’t forced myself on Erich, but it certainly wasn’t the other way around either. “Oh, you remember that pretty clearly, don’t you?”

            Erich was livid now. His nostrils flared, his hands starting to shake. He had done his best to contain his anger, but this was just too much for him. “Don’t push me, Moretti!” he snarled warningly.

            “Who’s limping today, Erich? You or me?” I yelled back at him.

            That was all Erich could take. “Shut UP!” he roared. He charged at me, grabbed hold of my wrists, and threw me out of the way. I caught myself against the desk, watching as Erich nearly wrenched the door off its hinges.

            For half a second, I wondered if this was even worth fighting for. It would be nearly impossible to convince Erich to listen to me, and I might get really hurt in the process. But I knew I wasn’t only fighting for myself. I cared about Erich, and I couldn’t let him go out into the world as angry and confused as he was. I had to make him make peace with what he couldn’t fight. I pushed myself back up and went after him.

“Erich, wait!” I called. He was struggling with his trunk, and I took the one opportunity I had to reach for him. Erich recoiled like I was poison.

“Don’t you f*****g touch me or I swear I’ll...” He drew back his fist, and I braced myself to be punched. But Erich’s head whipped the other way, and I looked down the hall to see Jim and Hersch at the end of the corridor. We stared at each other; I tried to plead with them to help me without saying it out loud, but it seemed that they had their own problems. Erich snarled and shoved me against the wall. “I’m getting the hell out of this place.”

“Right behind you.”

“Like hell you are!” Jim went after Hersch, but he was locked inside the dorm before Jim could catch up. I couldn’t stop to see what was wrong; Erich was already halfway down the hall. I raced after him, knowing there was a good chance he would never turn around. “Erich, please!” I called desperately. Deep in the pit of my stomach, I felt afraid and sad and sick, like I knew what I was doing was hopeless. Erich would never listen to me. He would never look at me in the light of day like he had the night before. I was going to lose him.

“Hey Gabe,” Jim’s voice from behind me came as such a surprise, I whirled around and forgot about going after Erich. He was looking down the corridor at me, as hopeless as I was. “Good luck,” he said earnestly, with a halfhearted smile.

What could I say? Even if I had time to say anything, there were no words to describe how grateful I was for those two little words. All I could manage was a tiny smile and nod, before I had to go after Erich again.

Outside, the weather was really strange. It was one of those odd days, when you can feel a storm coming, but the sun is still shining out of some remote place in the sky. There were thick grey clouds over head, but the air was almost yellow. It would rain any minute.

Erich was nearly to the top of the stairs by the time I reached him. “Erich, come back!” I called. He wouldn’t turn around. His trunk was already on the top step. “Erich!” I couldn’t let him go, I just couldn’t. I leaped forward and grabbed his arm, trying to pull him back. Erich stumbled down a step, then turned to face me. He grabbed onto my shoulders and tried to force me down, but I was holding onto him just as hard. We fought, there in the stairwell, grunting and swearing and trying to force each other forward and back. I managed to throw Erich of his balance, and he lost his footing, landing on the bottom step. He caught himself against the door.

Enraged that he had lost, Erich moved like he would punch me again. He took two steps up with his fist at the ready. I didn’t back down, though. I was standing above him, blocking his way, and he would have to knock me down in order to get past me. I bet my life that he wouldn’t do it. Erich pulled his arm back with a sharp intake of breath, eyes wild. Once. Twice. He couldn’t do it. He looked up at the sky and let out a roar.

“What do you want?” he cried, sounding truly anguished. “F**k, Gabe, what do you want from me?”

“I want you to admit that what happened last night wasn’t a mistake! It wasn’t an accident, Erich!”

“Get your hands off of me!” I realized I was still hanging onto Erich’s shoulders, and he sounded so angry I immediately let go. “It was a mistake! This is your fault!” he pointed furiously at me.

“This isn’t my fault. You told me yourself, remember. You’ve always been this way, Erich, and you know it. And I’m sorry I had to be the one who made you realize it, but this is the way you are.” I wasn’t sorry, but he was so angry I felt that I had to apologize for something.

“I’m NOT that way!” he roared. Erich’s hands were shaking, and he reminded me of a trapped animal. He couldn’t get past me, not without knocking me down. And there was no way to talk his way out of what we both knew was true. He really was trapped. “You don’t understand! I can’t be that way! The only thing I’ve ever known is that I will get killed for feeling that way. That’s the only thing my father ever taught me. You can’t just come in here and turn that all upside down. It doesn’t work like that!”

“Erich, your father was wrong!” How could he still not see that?

“No he wasn’t! This is wrong and sick and you know it! You wouldn’t regret Leo if you didn’t think so!”

That stung so hard, I wished he really would have hit me instead. How dare he bring Leo into this? He knew me so well, he knew exactly how to hurt me. I looked, wounded, at him for a second, then I realized how angry I was. He was so wrong, and he knew it. “Don’t you get it?” I yelled at him. “I regret being with Leo. I regret putting my trust in the wrong person, and I regret letting him die, but I don’t ever regret feeling the way I did about him. I can’t regret being the way I am because I can’t change it, Erich, and neither can you!”

Erich took a deep, angry breath, and prepared to fight some more. “How do you know? Even if I am.... like you, how do you know I can’t go back to how it was before?”

“You can’t!”

“But how do you know?” he challenged loudly. “Look, maybe we’re just young. This could all go away in a few years. Don’t you think you would be happier if you could change?”

The first thunder of the storm sounded as I stared disbelievingly back at Erich. Did he honestly think I would choose this horrible, heartbreaking life for myself? “I would be happier,” I said quietly. “Which is why I know I can’t change. If I could stop being the way I am, I would have done it ages before I even met Leo.” I advanced towards him angrily, pointing at his chest with a shaky finger. “You know we don’t choose this! You know exactly how awful it is to live like this, because you’re living exactly the same way! I can’t change being homosexual any more than you can!”

“Don’t you DARE call me that!” Roared Erich. At the top of the stairs, two boys passing by us stopped and gave us curious looks. Erich turned and gave them such a furious look that they immediately shuffled away.

I gave him a few seconds to calm down before I spoke again. That word had hit a nerve, and for the first time I was really afraid of what Erich might do to me if I pushed him. “Call it what you want, Erich,” I said softly, “but I can’t ever change how I feel about you

Erich scoffed incredulously. He turned an agitated circle, breathing hard, fists pressed to his forehead. “How? How do you feel, Gabe?” he asked furiously.

Oh, God, were there even enough words? I just looked at him for another second, as I tried to find the way to express the staggering feelings I had for Erich. “You’re so much better than you think you are, Erich,” began breathlessly. “There’s so much good in you that you can’t even see. You’re the strongest, bravest person I’ve ever met. And you make me feel strong and brave too, when I’m with you. You make me feel like every awful thing in my life doesn’t matter anymore, because it all led me to you. You, Erich, I just…” I cut myself off. I was just too afraid of what I was about to say; the time wasn’t right. I couldn’t bear to confess to Erich what I knew, deep down, I already felt. I had said it too quickly once before, a mistake I would never make twice. I took a deep breath and started again. “You made me feel like I was better than I used to be. And if I can’t make you feel that way too, them maybe you should just go!” All my horrible, conflicting emotion spilled out of me in one tear that slipped out of the corner of my eye and fell down my cheek.

Erich heaved a deep, shuddering sigh. When he spoke, he sounded broken and sad. “Gabe,” he started, “you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. You’re the best person I’ve ever met. Sometimes...” he stopped, pulling himself together, so he wouldn’t cry in front of me, “...sometimes I think you’re the last good person in the world. But...” all the hope I had ever had crashed to the ground with that one little ‘but.’ My heart shattered in my chest, and I desperately wiped away the tear on my cheek. “...But I just can’t. I can’t be with you, Gabe. I’m sorry.”

I knew then I had lost. Fighting him would not do any more good; he would never accept who he was. The only thing to do was let him go peacefully. As another clap of thunder shook us, I stepped aside. “Go, then,” I said weakly. “If that’s how you feel, you should go. The faster you get away the faster this will all be behind you.”

Erich raised his arms helplessly, then dropped them to his sides again. “Gabe,” he started.

“Go,” I told him again. “You know how I feel, Erich, but I can let you go if its what you want.” I could hear my voice getting shaky and weak.

“Gabe,” he tried again.

“Just go!” Why was he doing this to me? “If you ever cared about me, don’t make me stand here anymore.”

“Gabe!” Erich sounded desperate, but he stayed rooted in his spot.

“Leave!” My voice cracked and I more tears spilled down my cheeks.

“Gabriel!” The sound of my name sounded strange coming from Erich, and I realized he had never called me anything but Gabe. This time he moved. He stepped up to the step below me, took my face in his hands, and kissed me.

It took me a long, long minute to convince myself that this was real. I couldn’t even respond to him for the first kiss. Erich took his lips away from mine, and, though the conflict was all over his face, he spoke with absolute certainty. “I’m not going anywhere.”

            I pulled him back this time. I kissed him like I had never kissed him before, hands on his face, holding to me like I would never let go. Erich’s thumb ran gently along my cheek, stroking away the tears that were still falling from my eyes. I pulled apart from him again, just to look at his now smiling face. And as he pulled me back again, the thunder rocked through us and the clouds opened up, pouring down warm summer rain. I threw my arms around him and felt the rain run down the back of his neck.

            Erich didn’t let go of me even after we pulled away. He kept looking into my eyes, hands on my face, nose touching mine. He took a few deep breaths, and I watched the water drip off his hair and into his eyes. “Okay,” he sighed, nodding, stroking my cheek, “okay.”

            Erich had never used many words. But what he said meant more to me than any speech. I could have understood him in one syllable. We would be all right. I had gotten through to Erich. He wasn’t going to leave me. I hugged him close, burying my face in his wet shoulder.

            “Come with me to Heathshire,” I whispered into his neck. I had started thinking about it this morning, before he woke up. It had seemed like a distant dream then, that I might actually walk away from this place with Erich.

            Erich inhaled deeply into my hair. I felt him nod, and my heart soared higher than I thought it ever could. “Maybe Hersch and Jim can come too.”

Reviews

[Arianna]

what are you going to do to me... im allready crying and its only eight in the morning emily. eight in the morning and im freaking sobbing my eyes out because i know you are going to do something horrible to them and i love them to death and you just cant :( they are too perfect... oh goodness i am a mess see what your beautiful writing does to me. i think that was the cutest thing i have ever read and i am just gonna go cry now. yup yeah thats it. crying now.