Date: Sat, 05 Apr 2003 18:39:51 -0500 From: Karla Schulz Subject: Carrots and Celery Part Two Chapter Two Well guys, here it is. There was joy, an almost sickening amount of joy in fact! And then there was ominious music - what will come next?! Easy to find out really, just keep reading. --- It's some day. Tuesday I think. I don't really know. We all hung out. It's been too hot to even think about going outside, so we've been playing games. We recently discovered Beyond Balderdash (which is cooler than normal Balderdash 'cause instead of just definitions for words you have to make up movie plots, think of what acronyms mean, come up with the thing that happened on like September 24, 1957 or whatever and other really hilarious stuff). We play all the time. I swear, even the instructions are hilarious. Though, I'm not sure they're intended to be. But you know I think maybe they are. Anyway, you've gotta try it sometime. Just before six, just as the like millionth Beyond Balderdash round of the day has drawn to a close, Celery hits his head and goes, "Shit!" "What?" "I forgot something. Yesterday when I went back to the house to get a replacement king pin," it's for his board, "they told me I was expected to make an appearance at dinner today," he immediately senses my elevating levels of panic, "It's probably no big deal. They're like probably having friends over or something. You know, keep up the happy family facade and all that." I nod, mostly back to feeling relaxed. "Okay. Will you be back?" He shrugs. "Probably. Depends on how late stuff goes. If they linger, I'll have to too." "I don't care how late it is." He kisses me. "Yeah, but I do. We'll see. You'll probably get your way. We both know how weak I am when it comes to resisting your charms." I grin. Sure do, and that's just the way I like it. "See you later," I say, with emphasis. "We'll try to keep him occupied," Jonas says reassuringly to Celery, who's sort of biting his lip. I smile. "I'll survive an evening without you. Go." He grins. "It's not like I WANT to or anything," "We KNOW!" Kyle. Laughing, "Okay, okay. I can see when I'm not wanted." I kiss him just to let him know how wrong he is. He smiles at me angelically. "I'll come to thee by moonlight." I am at almost all times, I hater of poetry. As a general rule, I think it sucks. Mostly just because I don't think that way. I don't understand how people can actually be expressing real emotion if it rhymes, or even if it doesn't. But The Highwayman is a wicked weird poem. What Celery just said is a line from it, in case you didn't know and were like really confused about why I suddenly started talking about poetry. Even though what he said about Them having guests makes sense to me, I spend most of the evening feeling at least mildly worried. But he doesn't call or come rushing over all upset and eventually I settle down, until I'm finally so settled I'm asleep, figuring he'll be happy I didn't wait up for him, and that when he arrives he'll just go to sleep too. I wake up with a start - alone in my bed - for lack of a better expression, my Celery sense tingling. Basically, at certain times if Celery is sad or lonely or needs me in some other way, I just know. It happens in the reverse for him too. I guess it comes from being so connected like we've always been. I probably would have felt it when it he was getting beat up if I hadn't been so busy freaking out on my own about the whole thing. Anyway, usually when it happens I'll call him, or if it's this late I'll wait until morning, but tonight, crazy person that I am, I decide to roam the streets for awhile. It's not as unsafe as it sounds actually, this is a good neighbourhood. So okay it's still a stupid and reckless idea, but I'm going to do it anyway. Whada ya want from me? I'm a 17 year old male. I have no practical concept of death and therefore I consider myself to be invincible. Ask any Shrink. It's like a complex or something and every 17-year-old male's got it. I slip out of bed and into a pair of jeans and t-shirt, run my fingers a few times through my hair (gotta look good for the muggers) and I'm out over the balcony railing, down the tree, over the fence and off down the street. Yeah, it's not so easy, a balcony escape. But it's doable. Call it my Celery Sense acting up again, but I walk in the direction of his house. It's really only about three houses away from mine, but that's if you cut through the backlane. See, his house is a little ways down on the street behind mine. If you go all the way around, it's like a bit over a block. Back in the day when he was little and sneaking over, Celery would usually climb his fence, cross the alley and then do the fence-hopping thing again into our backyard. It's still basically his m.o, but right now I'm in a kind of walking mood, so I'm taking the long way. Pretty much the second I get onto his block I see Celery slumped against a tree on the boulevard. I of course go into instant panic mode. Never mind that I'm doing it too, what is he doing outside at this time of night? Doesn't he know it's dangerous? What's he doing just sitting there propped up against some tree? There could be a crazy person hiding behind that tree for all he knows! "Celery," I say, running over to him. Once I'm close enough I hear he's crying. "Celery, love, what's the matter?" I ask as I reach to hold him. I don't think he knew I was there until I spoke 'cause now he's suddenly wiping his eyes and looking all startled. I guess that's to be expected though, I mean, you don't really expect your lover to just happen along when you're sobbing against an elm at 2am, now do you? I crouch there dumbly while he finishes pulling himself together and wait until his breathing returns to normal before asking again, "Love, what's the matter?" He shakes his head and stands up, a little wobbly, even with my help. "Not here." We begin walking towards my house and I want to keep asking questions but knowing how pointless it would be, I stay quiet. We help each other over the fence and up the tree. I let us into my room using the key under the lawn chair. I'd launch into a big speech about how technically they're Adirondacks, but I'm kind of distracted. "Celery, I'm seriously freaking out over here. What's going on? I find you crying against some tree in the middle of the night and you won't say anything - help me out here. Tell me, explain to me why," "You were out there too," he counters. "Celery Sense. Stop stalling," I say abruptly. He shrinks into himself. "I'm sorry," I sigh, moving closer and putting my arms around him. "Don't be, just tell me what's going on." He takes a few strengthening breaths and shrugs a bit, letting me know I can let go. "Debbie's pregnant," Oh-kay... "Uh, Mazeltov?" "We live in a four bedroom house, Carrots," "So?" "So there's no room for the baby," "The steps can share, can't they? They're both boys," "They say no." They - and you should really know this by now - are Debbie and Doug. "What does this mean?" "It means we're moving," To a bigger house, close by, I tell myself trying desperately not to panic. S'not really working. "Where, when?" "Doug's looking to get transferred, but wherever it is, it won't be close. The nearest branch he's applied to is in Regina." Doug's a manager at the Royal Bank. "When?" I squeak. "Whenever he gets another job. It'll be soon, They hope before school starts," "You just found out?" Right now my emotions have been suspended, I'm completely detached. I'd never make it through if I wasn't. I can tell Celery's doing the same thing. If we weren't we'd both be sobbing hysterically right now. Instead we're talking as if it were a ham sandwich we're discussing. "Yeah. Well, tonight at dinner. I should have known something was up the second They told me I had to eat with them. I wanted to come over right away but I shut myself up in my room and cried for something like 3 hours instead. I fell asleep I guess. I woke up about 40 minutes ago with a headache and the memory of what happened. I got right out of bed and left the house, but I didn't get far before I started feeling unsure about coming over. It was so late already then and I was a mess, I didn't really want you to get the news when I was in that state," "So you stopped and cried on the street?" "So I stopped and cried on the street." "This is actually happening?" I ask him, still feeling more like I'm floating above this scene, watching it happen to other people. Not believing yet that any of it is real. He stops staring at the wall and looks at me, breaking my heart with his grey eyes. "This is for real, this is actually happening," I have my information so now I can cry. I do. Loud sobs, muffled by my pillow, while Celery's hands stroke my shoulders and neck. I can hear him crying too but he's trying to soothe me. I'm supposed to live without this person?! "It can't! There has to be some other way," I say sitting up, frantic. "You can stay here! Mom and Dad won't mind - I bet they'll insist! I promise, Cel, everyone would welcome you with open arms! No one would mind, I'm sure of it. You can sleep here, or maybe Kyle will move into his own place soon and then we can have the apartment," Celery puts a finger to my lips, I'm babbling. He shakes his head. "Carrots, I don't think-" "No, it'd work! Really it would! If you live here, then the baby can have your room! They wouldn't even have to move," "It's not just the room, Care, there's money to think about too," "Well, if they don't have to look after you then it'd be cheaper and Doug wouldn't need a promotion! Everyone will want you here, Cel, why can't you just-" "They'd never go for it. I know your parents would let me, want me even, but They would never allow it. I know They wouldn't." I'm not giving up that easily. "Then you can get emancipated! Lots of people do that, you're independent enough! My Tante Jane is a lawyer, she could help us, I know she could, it'd work, really!" He shakes his head again, there's a sad gentle look in his eyes. "That won't work either. I'm sorry, my love, I wish it would but none of it will work." "Why not?! They don't even-" I stop, horrified by what I was about to say. Celery turns his mouth into something that almost looks like a smile, but not quite. "It's okay. You can say it. I've known for years and am past caring," You're the boss. "They don't even care about you. Why wouldn't they let you stay?" "It's a status thing. If I stay She becomes the teenage failure mother again. They don't love me or want me but they sort of need me for their image." Image is everything to Them. "It's not a perfect family without me," "I don't care about Them! I care about you! We'll find a way, we HAVE to find a way, I won't let them take you!" He reaches over and caresses my cheek softly. "Sometimes there isn't a way. I have go to, like it or not." He's still talking like it's the ham sandwich we're discussing. "WHY can't you try for emancipation?" "I'm not even sure we have that in Canada and anyway, what reason do I have to make the request? I don't want to be away from my boyfriend? They're not NICE to me, but I'm not abused. I'd get laughed out of court." "They're trying to separate us! Why aren't you fighting this?" I'm desperate, frenzied. "Because I know Them. There's nothing compassionate or loving or even decent about Them. Not when it comes to me. Nothing we could say or do will change that. I don't want whatever time we have left together spent fighting hopeless battles. I'd much rather spend the time loving you and trying to soak up as much of you as I can while I'm still here with you." "You can't leave - I'll die!" I say, starting to cry again as the reality of the situation settles in more and more. "You won't. I'll be back in less than a year and there's no way I'll stand for you being dead when I get here." "Why do you have to move away?" I say, rolling piteously into a ball on my side. "I mean, why does Doug have to go and find another job anyway? There aren't any 5 bedroom houses in Winnipeg?" "I told you, They need more money, a whole extra person is expensive. Anyway at dinner They said Doug's been looking for awhile now without even knowing about the baby. He's looking for a promotion, more power and money," The problem is They live beyond their means, really showing off. I guess the more you actually have to spend the more you can overspend. The kind of credit you get and everything. Celery may still be acting like we're talking about a sandwich but my emotions on the other hand have made their return with a vengeance. I feel like starting to cry again but don't. I wish he'd give up and show a little feeling though. I know he's hurting, I saw that easily enough on the street, but we could at least be trying to comfort each other or something. I've sort of lost my ability to speak, but I want him to lie down beside me, at least then I'd be able to feel that he's still here at least for now, feel him holding me, know that it was real. I look up at him with a face like a whimper. It takes him less than an instant to give me my one of my wishes, arms strong and firm, body close as you can get. "It'll be okay somehow, baby. I don't know how, but it'll be okay. Just because I might have to go away for awhile doesn't mean I'm actually leaving you. The real me won't ever leave you, I'll always be with you. And it won't even be for that long. A year, that's all. We can do that in our sleep," "I know you're trying to be strong for me or whatever, but this unconcerned attitude isn't exactly helping me feel less scared." "Oh, Care!" he chides, squeezing hard. "It's killing me too, I promise it is. You saw me crying my heart out before, imagine nearly 4 more hours of that and worse. But we can't spend the rest of our time together crying - those aren't the memories I want to take with me wherever I end up going. The ones I want to leave you with. I know it sounds completely ridiculous and impossible but I want us to try to be happy at least for most of the rest of this. Don't fake it for my benefit, but let's try, okay?" It's for him, so I can do it, but not yet. Holding on a little like grim death, I murmur, "Tomorrow. Not tonight, tonight I get to just hold you, okay?" He's holding me back just as tight. We're probably giving each other bruises but who cares. "Yeah, okay," for maybe the first time his voice gives away what's going on. It's a bit ragged, definitely scared, and as desperate as mine's been. For some reason, out of everything else, that's what comforts me the most. In the morning when I open my eyes, Celery's sitting up, smiling down at me carefully. I try to smile, but my mouth's not having it. I give up and sigh."I really am going to try - I promise." "I know. But don't force anything. I want us to be happy - not miserable trying to be happy. No pretending either. I want us to be honest, real." There he goes again, talking me down from panic, making everything make sense. I wrap my arms around his neck and hang onto him for awhile, blocking from my mind any thoughts of times when his neck won't be around for me to cling to. "Are we having fun yet?" I joke pathetically into his neck a few minutes later. Celery keeps rubbing my back. "They can't win, baby. Don't let Them win," I sigh into him, and then break my hold. He gives me that same, hopeful, tentative, 'please smile back' smile. He may be smiling, but his eyes are still grey. "Working on it," I promise. I look at my clock, almost 1. Man. "It's pretty late," Celery mentions rather pointlessly, noticing my face change with surprise. "Late to bed, late to rise." New spins on old adages are hours of fun. Celery kisses my forehead and we snuggle back down together. We can talk, try to smile, do the happy for whatever time we have left thing, but what I'm most grateful for is that in this moment, I can be in his arms. "Remember grade three?" Sure. That's the one after grade two, right? "Um, I guess. What specifically about grade three?" "It was the first time we were introduced to the concept that we could be separated, remember?" It's all coming back to me now. In the middle of grade three, for the first time, someone from our circle of knowledge died. A teacher, our choir teacher in fact. In our kid way we no longer saw death as something that was so far off, it seemed real. For a few weeks we were convinced Mr. Jeunis's death was just the tip of the iceberg, and that our friends and family were going to start dropping left and right. It was then that the death pact was born. We swore to each other neither of us would die alone, but that if it was going to happen, we'd go down together. Maybe it was a chivalry thing or too many movies or something, but we swore. It took my parents forever to get us to leave each other's presence for even a second. We fought them on it because we didn't want to risk being apart for the fear that some danger might suddenly emerge, getting only one of us. We grew out of it, or forgot, like kids do, but never completely. Obviously - since Cel just mentioned it, but it was always at the back of my mind. "I remember. Is there a pep talk in there somewhere, 'cause if so I missed it." He smiles, sad, not careful this time. "No, I was just thinking about it. About us, then. Back then, and even after, I could never figure out what I was more scared of. You dying and leaving me alone, or dying myself, stranding you in the world without me. Didn't always happen, but I usually leaned towards the me dying, because it involved you in the most pain I guess. At eight, I would have rather died than be away from you, but because I was so deep into believing in our bond, I thought it would be better for you to die, rather than miss me. Not because I was hung up with myself, or that I thought I was all you had - I just didn't want you to be in the kind of pain I imagined I would feel if I was alone. If I lost you. But that was death, and that was when we were 8. We're 17 now, nearly, and no one's dying. I know how tempting it is to just slip into that hole, like this is the end of everything, it's where I was when you found me by that tree. But seeing you pulled me out. I saw you and I realized that I'd rather be in the world with you for a little while than in the hole dreading the time when I'm not. This whole happiness kick I'm on, it's just me trying to make sure you don't go too deep into that hole." "You've been practising that for awhile, haven't you." He grins. "Yeah, a little bit. Did I rush it?" I grin back. "No, it was good." Basically, that's me coming out of the hole. In the world of me, the rule is, 'you know he's better when: he's back to quoting movies and being a smart-ass'. And that was Oceans 11, if you didn't know. "I love you," "I love you," "Feel up to a round of 'I love you more'?" I smile, back to feeling a bit serious again. "Do something for me?" "Anything." "Don't try to do the strong thing all by yourself. Let me help. I haven't really been up to it so far, but don't punish yourself trying to keep me happy. We're in this together, and I expect you to have just as many meltdowns as me. It's only fair. Mostly yeah, let's do the happy thing together, but don't you force it either yourself. I'm here when you need to break down, okay?" "Okay," he says, kissing my worried lips. Very quickly, another major roadblock, hurdle type thing presents itself. Going public. Welcoming the rest of the family to join us on the island of pain. We agree to start with Kyle and Jonas. It's what fits. Mom and Dad will come after that. The plan is to tell the twins and Kara collectively. Kyle's already around, and not working, but we have to call Jonas. He has a shift, but when we tell him it's important he says he'll trade with someone and be over right away. No questions asked. Good old Jonas. All three of us wait for him in the living room, alone in the house. You know the drill. Mom and Dad are at work. The twins are off somewhere, back from camp, but still either playing soccer or video games with friends. They've got this buddy Brady they're practically joined at the hip with. Kara's at Sue's. Celery and I are side by side, our hands are clasped firmly, but it just doesn't feel like a lap kind of day. I'm too anxious to be held like that, too tense. I keep cracking my knuckles over and over and Celery's on the hundredth time taking off his hat and bending curve of the beak. I hadn't seen him do that for years before today. It was something he always used to do when he was nervous when he first started wearing it. Poor Kyle (who has no idea what's going on) is probably biting his tongue to stop from asking us, and his eyes keep darting over to look at the door. Jonas shows up, in good time probably, it just felt like an eternity to us. "So what's the big bad?" he asks in all seriousness, but still throwing some Buffy lingo in there, doing his Jonas best to cheer up the situation. It almost reduces me to tears. He notices. "Whoa. Shit, what's the matter?" Kyle shrugs. Jonas sits down. They look at us, all braced for terror and trying to be calm. "I'm moving," Celery states simply. Colour drainage on both counts. "Where?" Kyle's no good at the ham sandwich, his voice crackles with emotion. "Not sure. But it's going to be far away. Hours at least. Not like across the street, you know?" "What the hell for?" Jonas is doing the rage thing. It's safer than pain, I guess. "Money, power, and social status," Celery sort of sings. Long silent minutes go by. No one knows what else to say. There might not be anything. Or there's too much, and it's all getting mixed up. "Who else knows?" There you go, Kyle. Now you've got it. "Just you guys. Congratulations, you were the first to know," There probably weren't even THOUGHTS of sympathy smiles. "Yay us," Jonas says with about as much enthusiasm as a corpse. The next hours are pretty bleak. We sit around, trying to make sense of it all, and failing spectacularly. Like me, Kyle shoots off all these ways for Celery to stay, and also like me, he gets shot down every time. Jonas is the quietest of the bunch, it's like he's trapped up in himself. Something seriously bad is going on in his brain, I'm sure of it. By the time Mom and Dad get home with the twins, there isn't one of us who hasn't cried. I'm not used to seeing Kyle cry, and it's the first ever I've seen Jonas. The twins race each other for the shower, shouting hello as they go, but Mom and Dad come into the living room. You could probably have been blind and still know something was horribly wrong. Mom looks at us like she doesn't know who to hug first. Maybe it's some kind of motherly instinct, but she goes for Celery. She's more his mom than Debbie will ever be, and that's proven by the way she holds him, the way he caves into her arms like a little boy. If my heart wasn't already broken, that would have done it. I'm really sucking at the try to stay happy plan so far. Still, I know it's me who's going to have to tell her and Dad. Celery's mind's all wacked, thinking he'll be disappointing them again. Like when he got beat up. I don't know how he rationalizes thinking like that, but asking would be sort of useless, since I don't think he does either. "There's no good way to say this, so I'm just going go for the simplest way. Debbie's pregnant and for a bigger house and money to raise the kid, Doug's looking for a new job. This means They'll be moving, and taking Celery with them. We're thinking maybe Alberta somewhere. Regina or Saskatoon if we're lucky." As before, no one says anything. I can tell Mom's THIS close to crumpling, but she stays strong, keeps holding Celery, speaking to him quietly, words of comfort I can't quite make out. Dad's gone white. Somehow, both of them know not to say anything about him staying here. They must just know instinctively he'd refuse. I didn't know how badly I needed it until my dad hugs me. The men in my family, as you may recall, are not exactly huggers, but I'm gladder than I can say that he decided to make an exception here. I feel safer in his arms than I have at any point since this whole ordeal began. I love Celery so much, I think I sometimes forget how much my family really means to me. Then Kyle's hugging me too, and Jonas, Mom, and Celery join in and we're suddenly in this big, sad, group hug, like maybe together there'll be enough love to overcome the pain. We hold on to each other for a few long minutes before it starts to work, and before everyone starts to get really uncomfortable. You try hugging 5 other people on one three-person couch. It doesn't work too good. When the hug breaks up, I'm left on the couch with Kyle, Jonas, and Celery. Mom and Dad give each of us another hug, and then leave us quietly. I guess they figured we needed a bit more brother's alone time. I also think they knew they were going to break down, and didn't want to do it in front of us. Especially not in front of Celery. We're still all on the couch, not saying anything. Our sardine-ness is strangely comforting. I'm back holding Celery's hand. Kyle has one arm around me and the other wrapped tight around Jonas. Out of the silence Kyle suddenly says, "I'll say something thoughtful soon," That's part of a Weakerthans song, and really it's more sad than it is funny, but we all start to laugh anyway. A bit hysterically, the way you do when you're under this incredible amount of strain, but I still think it's pretty remarkable that we're laughing at all. Something shifted though. I think we're all starting to claw our way out of the hole. Celery's holding on tighter to my hand, I look over at him, and he's almost smiling. "Like winter comes too soon?" I whisper. It's more Weakerthans, but a different song. Celery squeezes my hand. With his, Kyle squeezes my shoulder. "Or radiators hum out of tune," Jonas murmurs. In what could have been a moment of ultimate loneliness, I feel loved. --- Edited by Ed.