Jordan

The shadow grew larger and larger until the shadow turned into a real life human being. He strolled down the hall, his auburn beard bigger and bushier than the last time I saw him. His beard was always a little wild when he returned from his assignments.

"Hey, there's my boy," Art, also known as my father, said. He was stockier than both me and Tim, about the same height as Tim. I backed away as he went to hug me. He had no right to hug me. I didn't want him touching me. The only man I wanted to touch me was Jamie. Instead of hugging me, Art patted my shoulder. "You're looking more like a man every time I see you." I didn't know what to say or what to do while Jamie stood beside me. I was sure his shadow was the shadow I observed on the pool deck. Did he see me and Jamie naked in the pool? Did he see anything else?  In only our towels, Jamie and I stood awkwardly in the kitchen. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my shirt and his shorts still on the floor. "Who's your friend?"

My friend? I couldn't find my voice. It was gone. He wasn't just my friend.

"Jamie," Jamie said, extending his hand to shake his. "I'm a friend of Tim's. I'm just staying here for the summer."

"A friend of Tim's, huh?" Art said. "Just a friend of Tim's?" he said, still shaking his hand.

"Yes," he said. "Well, I'm Jordan's friend, too."

"Those must be your things up in my room, then," Art said to Jamie, slowly pulling his hand away from his.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I didn't know you'd be home, so..." Jamie said. "I wasn't expecting you. I'm sorry. I'll just go get them out of there." Jamie left the kitchen with me not far behind him.

"A hello would be nice," Art called to me since I hadn't yet said a word to him. I rarely ever spoke to him. Jamie practically ran up the stairs. To me he seemed upset and angry, which sort of scared me.

"I had no idea," I said as Jamie feverishly and angrily shoved his clothes back in his suitcase. "I didn't know. Jamie, are you mad? I didn't know he was coming. He always does this. He just shows up without telling anyone."

After slamming his suitcase closed, he removed all the bed sheets, not saying a word, which wasn't like him. He couldn't stand silence. With the sheets in a messy ball, he stormed out of the room, went to the linen closet in the hallway, and returned with an armful of clean sheets.

"You're not leaving, are you?" I said in a near panic. "Don't leave. Jamie, don't leave. Don't..." My heart raced in a way it had never done before and not in a good way. I felt like I was about to have a heart attack. "Jamie..." Tears unexpectedly fell down my cheeks as he proceeded to make the bed in painful silence. "Why won't you say anything? Jamie?"  Blinded by a mixture of unidentifiable emotions, I went to Jamie as he made the bed. I pushed his shoulders so he'd stop doing what he was doing. "Don't go," I sobbed. "Why won't you say anything? Why...?" As I went to push him again, he took me in his arms as I sobbed. "Why won't you talk to me?"

"I'm sorry," he said in my ear. "I don't know what to say. I was just surprised...and embarrassed. Did you see the way I left his room? I left my shit everywhere. I'm not mad at you. If anything, I'm mad at myself for how I treated his room...and his bed. Ssh, Jordan...ssh...it's okay. Ssh..." I didn't realize I was crying so hard, scared to death he was going to leave and I wasn't ready for that. I wasn't ready to say goodbye.

"You can put your thing's in Jordie's room for now," Art said, standing in the doorway of his own room, catching me and Jamie in an embrace. Jamie quickly broke away from me as my tears lingered. "I presume Tim's room is too small and cluttered. He was always a bit of a hoarder." He was right about that. Tim had a hard time throwing things out and his room was overcrowded with books. If anything, his room was a safety hazard. Art continued to stand there while Jamie rolled his suitcases out of the room, his towel just about staying on. I grabbed the rest of his bags and followed him into my room. Slamming my door shut, I locked my dad out. Jamie sat down on my unmade bed, scratching the back of his head.

"That was him, right?" he said. "He's the person you saw at the pool?"

"I guess," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

"Shit," he muttered, shaking his head, looking down at the floor.

"Don't be mad," I said.

"I'm not mad," he said. "It's just...well...if he saw us, then you better tell Tim before he does." Nodding, I sat down beside him.

"I didn't know he was coming home," I said, reaching for my phone on my nightstand. With my fingers noticeably shaking, I texted Tim. 'Art's back.'

"I know you didn't know," he said. He kissed the side of my face, then got up.

Jamie opened his suitcase to search for some clothes while I waited for a return text from Tim. "Are you leaving?" I asked.

"I need to go for a walk or something," he said. "And I need to go alone. I just need to be alone for a little while. Don't look at me like that. I'm coming back. You need to have a talk with your dad. I'm serious. I'll be back in a few hours."

"I don't talk to him," I said.

"Well, maybe you should. You're not a kid, remember? You said you're a man. Well, act like one." I didn't say anything, continuing to sit there on the bed, my tears long gone. I wanted to be angry and upset with what he said to me, but deep down I knew he was right. "Sorry, that was harsh. I'm sorry. I sort of feel out of place right now."

As I watched Jamie get dressed, Tim finally texted me back. 'Shit. I'll be right there.'

I got dressed, too, throwing on my Cure shirt and an old pair of shorts. Jamie and I then went back downstairs, happy and relieved Art wasn't there.

"Promise me you'll come back," I said, holding his hand as I walked with him to the front door.

"Of course I'm coming back," he said. "I left all my stuff here. I'm not abandoning you. I'll be back soon." He kissed my cheek and, with a smile, he left.

Art was in his office already at his computer. Standing in his doorway, I wasn't sure if I wanted to speak. He never really listened to me, anyway. His eyes shifted to me for a brief second.

"He's handsome, isn't he?" he said. I assumed he was referring to Jamie. Why would he even say something like that? "Tim's hired a lot of people over the years to babysit you. I don't think he's ever used one of his friends, though, especially not one as handsome as he."

Fuck you, Art. I don't need a babysitter despite what you think. I didn't respond, just staring at him.

"Is Tim paying him to babysit you?" Every part of me wanted to leap across the room and pound his face in. I wanted to beat up my own father. Babysitter? Did he really think Tim continued to hire babysitters for me? Growing up, I was always mean to babysitters, the biggest little shit in the entire world. Half the time they'd up leaving and Tim would be stuck with me. That's what I wanted. I wanted Tim to come home. Anyway, Jamie was far from my babysitter and I was sure Jamie would be insulted if anyone ever thought he was. "I guess he wouldn't really tell you. Are you going to speak at all during my mini vacation? Yeah, I call this my vacation. It'll be short-lived, though. I'm leaving in a few weeks. I'm going on a book tour, then off to Russia. Russia's always an experience. So...just shake your head yes or no. Are you going to speak or what?" He paused a minute, waiting for me to respond. I wasn't in the mood to respond. "I can see you haven't changed."

Neither have you, I thought. He must have finished his book while on assignment. Usually he'd finish his book at home. Maybe he just couldn't stand to be home anymore.

"So, how's your mother?" he asked with a sigh, changing the subject. "For fuck's sake, Jordie, say something. How do you expect to live on campus if you don't speak?" It turned out that Tim did talk to him about me living on campus although I wasn't sure why he cared what he thought. Why? Maybe because he paid my tuition. I wasn't in the mood to listen to him anymore. I wanted him to go away. Tim and I did just fine without him. With my headphones on, I left his office and went outside.

While sitting on the porch, I listened to my music, wondering when Jamie would come back, also wondering when Art would try to talk to me again. I knew he'd end up more and more frustrated because I wouldn't talk to him and then he'd probably threaten me with something, like sending me to a group home like Mom's.

Sooner than expected, Art made an appearance on the porch, holding a marijuana pipe that I recognized as Tim's.

"The garden in the basement has come along nicely," he said, sitting down at the table, referring to the cannabis plants Tim had successfully harvested over the years. "It's about time it's become legal in this state, huh?" I barely heard him through the B-52s blaring through my headphones. "It would be nice if you made some brownies. Tim never gets it right." That's all I was good for: making special brownies.

Art sat there and smoked, telling me all about his escapades in Greenland even though I didn't say a word. I didn't really care. I mostly only thought about Jamie and what he was up to.

The screen door slid open and Tim stepped out. Art smiled and practically jumped to his feet to go and hug his first born son. Tim accepted his hug...unlike me. He was always more accepting than I was or maybe he was just more tolerant. Tim talked to him while I didn't. I barely knew him and he barely knew me.

"Where's Jamie?" Tim asked me. I only shrugged. I wish I knew.

"You never told me someone was borrowing my room," Art said.

"Only for a few months," Tim said. "I wasn't exactly expecting you home. A phone call or text would have been nice."

"I trust you to take care of the house when I'm not here. Is he the new babysitter? Jordie won't say."

"No, not exactly," he said. Not exactly? What the hell did he mean by that? Tim knew me so well, he quickly reacted to my pissed off expression. "No, he's not the babysitter. Jordan's almost twenty. He doesn't need a babysitter. Jamie needed a place to stay for the summer. He's going to London to teach in September so he'll only be here for a few more weeks."

Why did he have to mention that? My heart sank.

"I had him put his things in Jordie's room," he said.  "I know what your room looks like. He can sleep in his room on the air mattress. There's plenty of room for one." Art got one thing right: he knew how much I liked Jamie because he saw us together in both the pool and then again in his room hugging each other.

"Jordan doesn't like anyone in his room," Tim stated.

"He can sleep on the couch then," Art said. The last thing I wanted was for Jamie to sleep out on the couch. He deserved better.

"Is it okay if Jamie sleeps on your floor?" Tim asked me. I only shrugged even though I couldn't have been happier.

"Nothing?" Tim said. "You have nothing to say? Maybe he should leave and go stay with his parents. I know his mother has a lot of health issues, but maybe he just needs to suck it up and..." No, that was the worst idea ever. I pushed Tim to make him shut up. I didn't want Jamie going anywhere. If he was ever sent away, I'd blame Art. I was convinced he always fucked things up.

"Hey, let's go out for ice-cream," Art said, eagerly changing the subject while Tim rubbed his shoulder where I pushed him. Maybe I pushed him a little too hard. "Me and my boys."

Usually I was always up for ice-cream, but I wasn't so sure today. I wanted to see Jamie. Nevertheless I went with them. What choice did I really have?

Art and Tim talked back and forth as if I wasn't there, which was something they'd always done. I really didn't care about Art's discoveries or his next project he was working on. I ate half of my chocolate chip cookie dough ice-cream cone, which wasn't like me, but I didn't have much of an appetite. Art had that type of effect on me.

Tim and I never understood why he didn't divorce Mom. It wasn't like they got along when she was well. He never visited her in the group home. Tim said he wouldn't divorce her out of guilt. But at the same time he dated women all over the world. He had all kinds of women. And it wasn't like he was some gorgeous or handsome man, but he never struggled getting women. Maybe it was his notoriety and sense of adventure. He must have seen the entire world three times by now.

Come dinner, Jamie still wasn't home. I feared he wasn't coming back even though all of his things were still in the house. I could barely stand it and stared down at my untouched chicken kebob, my knee bouncing up and down as I munched on carrot after carrot.

"All right," Art said, throwing down his fork and knife on his plate. "I want you to speak and I want you to speak right now," he demanded.

"He's not in the mood," Tim said.

"Don't speak for him," Art said. "I know you have a voice. I heard it when you and Tim's friend there were in the pool."

I knew it was him. I just knew it.

"You were having a grand ole time, weren't you?" I didn't say anything, not even acknowledging his comment. "Either you say something or he goes and I know you don't want that."

"Give him a break," Tim said, coming to my defense. "He doesn't do well with change and it's a change that you're here. He hasn't seen you since Christmas. How do you expect him to act?"

"You're always defending him and his behavior. Say something. I'm telling you right now. Say something or he goes." My voice just wasn't there. Holding my head, I shook it. I didn't want Jamie to go, but I couldn't speak.

"Stop it," Tim said.

"Say something, Jordie." I couldn't take it and bolted out of there, off the porch and directly into the woods. I tossed my phone and headphones on the ground and plowed into the pond. He can't send him away. He just can't.