Behind the Falls Read online

  “Do you really think that’s the only reason they decided to move?” Kimber asks. I’ve talked to her about my theory before. I nod.

  “I’m pretty sure. I think they thought I couldn’t handle a bigger school. Yeah, Dad wanted to take time off to write but why couldn’t they sell Gran’s house and stay here? That was just their excuse.”

  “Well, my school has three thousand students in just the three grades in the high school. How many does your school have?”

  “I don’t know, a few hundred in four grades maybe. Yeah, I guess I’d rather be up against a few hundred than a few thousand. Still…a smaller student body just means you run into the same people over and over again…”

  “This is about the friend isn’t it?” Kimber asks gently. I just nod. I’m not ready yet. We look at the house for a while longer then head back to Aunt Sarah’s.

  Kimber wasn’t kidding when she said they’d fatten me up at dinner. The spread is ridiculous and Mom and Aunt Sarah both keep heaping more food on my plate. When the pumpkin pie comes out I don’t think I can eat another bite, especially not the size of the piece Aunt Sarah puts in front of me. Somehow I manage.

  Later that night, full of turkey and tired, Kimber and I retreat to our fort again. Kimber tries to resume the conversation from the night before but we’re both too full and tired and we fall asleep early. My fatigue can also probably be attributed to the fact that my Mom is making me take the Xanax regularly while we’re here. When I don’t take it regularly and then I start again I feel the side affects more.

  On Friday, Black Friday, everyone makes plans except Kimber and I. Chris is off with some of his friends. Mom and Aunt Sarah decide to hit some sales and Dad is visiting with some of his colleagues from the college. Frankly, I’m surprised my parents leave us home alone. I guess Kimber is my babysitter today. Kimber and I make a plate of turkey sandwiches and other random snacks and grab some drinks and retreat to our trusty fort.

  While we eat conversation is just random. Kimber tells me about the school play and how she’s really into it and hopes to get a bigger role in the spring play. I tell Kimber about the lack of anything to do in Lansing but that I actually sort of like it at the same time. When the sandwiches are gone Kimber reaches behind her back.

  “Dessert!” she proclaims as she pulls licorice from behind her back. Red licorice. I sigh and flop back onto the pile of pillows. If I’m ever going to talk to someone, and that someone HAS to be Kimber, then now is probably the best chance I’m going to get. We’re in the house alone. I’m ready. Am I ready?

  Losing Max hurt A LOT. I don’t think I could survive losing Kimber. Next to my parents she’s always been the most important person in my life. She’s always been there for me even when I was at my worst. She’s the sister I should have had. I don’t want to jeopardize that but at the same time she’s probably the only one that I can talk to.

  “You love me right? Like, unconditionally no matter what I do. I mean, I get off an airplane in a wheelchair because I’m all blotto from the meds that I hate and you still want to hang out with me when I finally wake up. That’s unconditional love, right?”

  “Of course,” she says and takes my hand. “You can talk to me, Noah. You can always talk to me. I won’t judge and I won’t tell anyone and I won’t love you any less no matter what you say EVER. You know that!”

  “Could you maybe not look at me?” I can’t do this if she’s going to gaze at me with those big, blue eyes all sensitive and understanding and…I just can’t.

  “Closing my eyes,” she says. “I won’t open them until I have permission. Could I maybe keep holding your hand though?” I take Kimber’s hand in both of mine and hold it tightly but not so tightly that I’ll hurt her. Her hands are so tiny. I take a deep breath. I wish I hadn’t eaten that second turkey sandwich. I feel sick.

  “He kissed me,” I don’t even lead up to it or explain or anything. I don’t even tell her who I’m talking about. Somehow she knows anyway.

  “This is why you’re not friends anymore?” I nod, then I shake my head then I realize her eyes are closed and she missed both gestures.

  “Yes, I mean, I guess. I don’t know. He apologized. I wouldn’t accept it…”

  “Why not? Are you like a homophobe or something? Are you afraid he’ll try it again or worse? Why don’t you just say ‘Hey, I don’t feel that way but we can still be friends’ or something like that? I mean, I’ve had guys make moves on me that I wasn’t interested in but I didn’t just stop speaking to them and it’s not like they were even my best friend,” she’s talking a little too quickly and saying too much so I know she’s at least a little weirded out.

  “I don’t KNOW! I just don’t understand any of it! I had not one but two, no THREE panic attacks and then I just…I don’t know I passed out or something. I’m just not normal! A normal person wouldn’t have reacted that way would they?” I’m shaking a little now and Kimber takes her hand out of mine so she can hug me.

  “What’s normal? Who knows how anyone would react in that situation,” she says it in a soothing voice, trying to keep me from freaking out.

  “I just…I MISS him so MUCH!” That’s the first time I admitted it out loud.

  “Then talk to him. Accept his apology. Tell him how you feel, that you want to be friends but nothing like that can happen again and I bet everything goes back to normal.” It’s great advice really but Kimber doesn’t have all of the facts.

  “A normal person would have stopped it. A normal person would have told him in no uncertain terms but…no…I didn’t. I let him and then I…it was me too. I was…God! I kissed him back! And the way it felt when I did and when he…”my voice trails off because now I’m getting anxious and I’m gasping and what is wrong with these damned Xanax that I still feel like this?

  I squeeze my eyes shut and I try to organize my thoughts so I can just explain to Kimber…but I can’t explain anything to her when I don’t understand anything myself! I remember it now like it just happened. I remember how the bottom dropped out of my stomach and the world stopped and my heart pounding and just remembering it gives me that strange feeling in my stomach again and…God the way it felt when he whispered in my ear and his hand on my back holding me close and how I wanted him to kiss the very air out of my lungs and I’m sobbing and Kimber is silent but she holds me tightly.

  “Noah?” Kimber finally says very gently, “Noah, are you gay?” and that’s the million dollar question that I’ve been avoiding asking myself since October.

  “I don’t KNOW!” I sob. I pull out of Kimber’s arms and curl up on my side with my back to her, tucking my knees into my chest and hugging my arms around them. I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m crying now and Kimber just scoots up next to me and wraps her arms around me again.

  “Noah, come on, don’t cry. It doesn’t matter to me. I love you unconditionally, remember?” I shake my head.

  “It matters to me!”

  “Well then maybe you should figure it out, don’t you think?”

  “I’ve tried to figure it out and I just don’t understand it. I told you, I’ve never looked at anyone that way and you know, had any kind of desire or whatever. I still don’t. I have this girlfriend who is so very pretty and nice and I like spending time with her and I just don’t FEEL it. So I thought okay, maybe I am just messed up and maybe I do you know, prefer guys and that’s why I never…but no! I look at guys on TV and magazines and in the locker room at school and…nothing. It’s just HIM. How can I ever be friends with him again?”

  “I think first you should talk to him, accept his apology. Then I think the two of you should talk. Maybe he’s just as confused as you are?”

  “You don’t understand. The way I treated him? He won’t WANT to be my friend again. Besides, I’m not sure I can just BE friends with him and I don’t know if I can handle what that means…” and right there, that’s why I pushed Max away, why I continue to push him away and why I was so horrible to
him that day in Mom’s car…the real reason why I ran…

  “Maybe you should talk to your parents?” Kimber suggests.

  “Oh God no! The last thing I want is for them to know any of this. Kimber, swear to me you won’t say anything! You can’t tell anyone!”

  “I won’t, I swear but Noah, I don’t think you’re handling it very well on your own are you? I don’t know how to help you either. I can just tell you what I think and I think you need to talk to your friend. I think you need to tell him all of this. Apologize for the way you treated him, explain it. I’ll bet he understands.” That’s ever practical Kimber. No wonder I can talk to her. She always balances out my loony tunes. “And anyway, would it really be so bad?” she adds with a little teasing note in her voice. “I mean, he’s really, really cute!”

  I don’t know how she does it but soon Kimber has me laughing WHILE I’m crying. This is how Mom and Aunt Sarah find us when they get home. I try to stifle my sobs but mixed with laughter the way they are it’s hard. Mom comes to the top of the stairs.

  “Noah?” she calls, “Is everything okay?”

  “We’re cool, Aunt Beth. Did you ever hear the expression, laugh until you cry? I’ve got Noah in tears here,” Kimber is so convincing.

  “It’s true, she’s killing me,” I manage and it’s more laughing than crying so Mom leaves us alone. Eventually the laughter stops and the tears keep coming so I just shove my face into a pillow and Kimber rubs my back until I fall asleep.

  ****

  On Saturday Kimber and I take the fort down. It’s served its purpose for both of us. We all pile into Aunt Sarah’s Pilot and go Christmas tree shopping. My mom and dad like to wait until the last minute to put up a tree but Aunt Sarah has always liked getting one right after Thanksgiving. There’s already Christmas music playing at the tree lots. As we finally find what Kimber proclaims the “perfect tree” light snow starts to fall.

  “Are you guys going to be here for Christmas?” Aunt Sarah asks. I had just assumed we’d be making the trip back to Naperville for the next holiday.

  “No, I think we’ll stay home,” Mom says.

  “This is home,” I mutter.

  “I’m going to miss you guys!” Sarah sounds so sad. This will be our first Christmas without her. It makes me sad too.

  “Oliver wants to spend one last Christmas in his parent’s house before we sell next year,” Mom says quietly while Dad helps the tree salesman strap the tree to the roof rack. Chris makes some kind of snide comment that I don’t catch.

  “What was that?” Aunt Sarah says in her “mom” voice. Chris gives her a “who me?” look. “Yes you, Christopher Allen Anderson. What was that snide comment?”

  “I just said that sucks,” he’s lying but who really cares. Aunt Sarah shakes her head.

  “He’s so lippy these days,” she complains to my mom. Mom nods.

  “We seem to have the beginnings of a back talker in our house too,” she sighs.

  “Geeze just talk about us like we’re not even here,” I call.

  “It’s not like you’re ‘all here’ anyway,” Chris mumbles. That kid really hates me. I guess I can’t blame him. I’ve embarrassed him his entire life just because we’re related and I’m mentally unstable. This is a perfect example of why I don’t tell people and why I do my best to try to hide it. If my own family can’t understand and is embarrassed of me how can I expect other people to understand? It’s just…whatever…as long as I still have Kimber.

  As if to prove Chris right I start to feel the anxiety as we’re leaving the tree lot. Somehow I manage to keep it together but Kimber can tell something is wrong. I practice my breathing and repeat my mantra of You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay as Kimber squeezes my hand. Somehow I make it without having a full-fledged panic attack and we get back to Aunt Sarah’s without incident. I go to bed immediately So that my parents can’t see that I’m still shaking.

  Sunday morning comes way too early, especially for me. I’m up for three hours before Mom comes downstairs to wake me to take the first dose of Xanax. I’ve been laying here in the rec room stressing about the flight since I woke up around four. It’s not just the flight. I have other things on my mind. The advice Kimber gave me about talking to Max seemed to almost make sense on Friday but now that we’re only hours away from being back in Lansing I’m not so sure. I think maybe I should just forget it. I’m better off just keeping my distance.

  At breakfast I have no appetite. How can I? I’m so stressed about flying that my stomach is in knots and the Xanax kind of kills my appetite anyway. I’m never hungry right after taking it. Of course the parental units try to make me eat.

  “I’m really not hungry,” I argue, “and why put something into my stomach if it’s just likely to come back up again? How much do those airsick bags even hold?”

  “Don’t talk about this kind of thing at the table, Noah,” Mom says.

  “Well if you stop trying to make me eat I’ll stop talking about being sick,” I counter.

  “Just eat your toast then,” Dad compromises. I nibble at some toast.

  “Why the Hell do they let you out among the normal people anyway?” Chris mutters. The kitchen goes silent. Even the sound of forks on plates has ceased.

  “Christopher, you apologize right now,” Aunt Sarah says in a voice tight with anger.

  “Why should I? It’s true. Everyone knows it.” When did he turn into such a little bastard?

  “Go to your room right now and don’t even think about turning on that Xbox!” Aunt Sarah yells. My face is just red. This is going to do nothing for my nerves.

  “Oh, so now I’m getting punished just for speaking the truth?” Chris shouts back at his mom. “I’m only saying what everyone is thinking. You always tell us to tell the truth. Well why the heck is he even HERE? If I was his dad I’d lock him in a padded room and throw away the key!” Chris storms off to his room and I hide my shaking hands under the table and stare at my plate. It’s not that I’m angry. He didn’t say anything I haven’t thought about myself. I’m just not good with confrontation.

  “I’m SO sorry,” Aunt Sarah says. “He’s having a really difficult time this week. Steve just called on Tuesday to say he doesn’t want the kids to come out for Christmas. Apparently it was too much ‘upheaval’ the last time and Kirstie was a ‘nervous wreck’ trying to deal with the baby and these two. Chris is taking it pretty hard.”

  “I wouldn’t go to see him and that bitch if you paid me,” Kimber says quietly. Her trembling bottom lip gives her away though. Aunt Sarah doesn’t even chastise her for the curse. I always thought Kimber and Chris chose not to visit their dad anymore. I guess I was wrong about that. In all the commotion with Chris, Kimber manages to snag a piece of my toast to make it look like I ate something. I smile my thanks.

  An hour later we have Aunt Sarah’s car packed and we’re ready to head to the airport. Mom gives me the second dose of Xanax. Chris wants to stay home alone but Aunt Sarah says he’s still being punished and if she lets him stay home she knows he’ll turn on the Xbox. I curl up in my seat and try not to think too much about my impending death.

  At the airport I just want to curl up in the car again like I did when we left PA but after Chris’s outburst at breakfast there’s no way I’m going to. It’s really incredibly hard to force myself out of the car and Mom takes my arm and starts talking me through my breathing.

  Of course we’re ridiculously early and Aunt Sarah and Kimber and Chris come in and sit with us for an hour until it’s late enough to check in and go through security. I cling to Mom’s hand like a child and focus on my breathing, mostly keeping my eyes closed. Eventually it’s time to go. As we say our goodbyes I hug Aunt Sarah and shake Chris’s hand.

  “Sorry about this morning,” he mutters. I don’t know if he means it. It doesn’t really matter. I shrug.

  “It’s true,” I say.

  “I still shouldn’t have said it. I don’t really understan
d but I do know I’m glad I’m not you, Noah.” I can’t really tell if the insult was intended or if he’s just telling the truth.

  “Yeah well, it could be worse. I could have been a ginger too,” I laugh to try to put us both at ease. He punches me in the arm which I think is a bold move because I do have a good seven inches on him. He’s built way more solidly than me though so maybe it’s a wash.

  “I don’t know, cuz, I don’t think your hair is as brown as you like to think it is,” he laughs and goes to say goodbye to my mom and dad. I can tell he wants to give Dad a hug but he’s in that awkward stage where he thinks men don’t hug. He reaches out to shake Dad’s hand and Dad grabs him in a hug. When Chris moves to hug Mom I think she’s just a little distant. She’s in Mama Bear mode. He threatened her cub this morning.

  It’s hard to say goodbye to Kimber. Our hug lasts longer than even Mom and Sarah’s. I wish she was coming with us. I could make it through the rest of this school year if she was there.

  “Talk to your friend,” she whispers it so no one else can hear. “I mean it, Noah. Let me know how it goes. I’ll love you no matter what.” I’m not so sure, about any of it. Kimber moves to release me and I hold on tighter.

  “Just hang on a second,” I say as I reach into my pocket. “Let me take this.” I take a Xanax I pocketed yesterday while we’re still hugging and no one is the wiser. I’m planning to pass out for this fight too. “I love you, Snot,” I tell Kimber as I give her one last squeeze and then we’re on our way.

  I make it through airport security more easily than I did on the way here. At least I’m walking and talking fine. I’m getting really tired though. My anxiety has been dulled by the drugs down to just a very big fear. It’s nothing I can’t handle.

  I hate sitting in the plane waiting for takeoff but again, we’ve learned from experience that early is better than late. I hold Mom’s hand the entire time. “Couldn’t I just stay here with Aunt Sarah until you and Dad move back next summer?” I ask.