Date: Tue, 15 Apr 2003 16:57:47 -0500 From: Karla Schulz Subject: Carrots and Celery Part Two Chapter Four Yeah, um, I don't know what to say about this one. Just read it and I hope you don't kill me afterwards. --- On the second Monday in August, Celery gets a call to report to The house for awhile, and because he tells me he'll probably be there all afternoon, I go and work in the bakery office for a few hours. In the early evening when I get back, I find Kyle gently rocking a crying Celery in his arms. I'm over there faster than I thought it was possible for me to go. Celery's still mostly gone, but Kyle's eyes meet mine. His explanation is simple. "Doug found a job." "Where?" we're masters of the ham sandwich conversation by now. All details are discussed in this disconnected manner. It's how we cope. "Calgary." I swear, I can hear the clattering of my life falling apart. Half blinded by tears, I shake my head repeatedly, whispering, 'no' over and over. Calgary's too far, don't you see! Like 20 some hours! What's more it's all so much more REAL now. In my heart of hearts, I never really believed it was actually happening until now. And it could be tomorrow for all I know! Kyle gets up a second before I fall down, clearing a path for me to land safely on the couch beside Celery. We find each other's arms through our teary eyes and cling to each other in our now perfected 'grim death' embrace. Kyle starts to leave but I don't want him to go. Somehow the noises and weak little hand gestures I make manage to get this message across and he sits back down at the end of the couch, rubbing Celery's back. We all calm down in about 15 minutes. "We should call Jonas," I say, not feeling right about him not being here. He's supposed to be here. Especially at a moment like this. We need to be together, the four of us. I especially think Celery needs to have all of us with him. As much as I'm dying over this, it's hurting him more. It has to be. He's more sensitive for one, but that doesn't even begin. We're his FAMILY. They mean nothing. They don't love him! They don't even not hate him! And now he has to go off with them to stupid Calgary, to be all alone for a year. I may be at the top of the list of what he's losing, but it's no one item list. It's home and family and everyone he loves and who loves him. Just thinking about it makes me hug him tighter. I'm probably cutting off any number of bits of circulation, but Celery doesn't complain. "I'll call him," Kyle says, reminding me about Jonas. I nod and then go back to pressing my lips to Celery's hair. He'd taken his hat off before I even got here, it's lying on the floor right now. For some reason, seeing it there all by itself makes me want to start to cry all over again. "I don't know what to ask," I say to him softly. He tilts his head back and our eyes meet. "Okay certainly would be wrong, wouldn't it? Just tell me you love me, okay?" I kiss his lips softly. "I love you, Celery. I love you here and I'm going to love you when you're in Calgary. I'll never stop, not for anything." His chin wobbles a bit and I know he's about to start crying again. I kiss his cheeks, replacing the dampness brought on by his previous crying with my lips. "I can't believe I'm going to have to leave you," he chokes through his newest tears. "Not for long, my love. What was that you were telling me about how a year we can do in our sleep? Well, you were right. We can and will make it. Don't cry, sweet one, don't cry," I keep kissing wherever the tears fall until the shaking stops and the breathing relaxes. Somewhere, deep down, there's a part of me having a small but sad celebration. It's mostly been me breaking down, and Celery's being mister strong stable guy. I never wanted that (as people who listen will know) and I'm glad in a not very glad at all way that I now have the chance to be the one to be there for him. It's just no good for him to keep everything bottled up, so I'm almost relieved to see him breaking down a bit. Dealing with some of what I know he must be feeling. It's like I told Jonas, you've gotta lean while the leaning's good. "Jonas'll be over soon," Kyle announces softly, obviously having returned at some point. "Thanks." He smiles sadly. "He's pretty shook up. And pissed off," I almost laugh. That's been Jonas alright. It's his way of dealing. "I'm in shock." Everyone shares a weak smile. "I tried to break it to you gently." "We appreciate that." He finally rolls his eyes and sits down on one of the armchairs. I take a good look at Kyle. My first one in awhile. I never noticed until now how gaunt he's gotten. He looks so tired. As I keep on staring I begin to understand why. Celery's been trying to be strong for me, but Kyle's been being strong for everybody. Not even just me, Celery, and Jonas. EVERYBODY. Mom, Dad, the twins, Kara. All the stuff he's been doing, I never realized until nbow what all of it meant. But when you put it all together, it's clear as day. He's been holding all of us up, keeping us from falling totally apart. All the jokes and distractions haven't just been Kyle being Kyle, the avoider of serious emotion. They've been Kyle being Kyle the amazing older brother, son, and friend. He smiles at me, like he knows what I'm thinking. I shake my head, too much emotion welling up in my throat to speak. "It's been my pleasure, bro," he tells me gently. Sensing that this is all something he doesn't need to ask about, Celery just cuddles me up closer and takes his turn kissing my hair. I reach over for one of his hands and bring it back joined with mine onto my lap. "I love you both so much," I whisper. "What about me?!" Jonas has arrived. I know he was joking, but I smile lovingly up at him anyway. "Fool," he smiles for a brief instant, and then the rage. "So what the fuck is this about you moving to Calgary?" he demands, looking over at Celery. "I'm thinking of becoming cowboy." Who would have thought a half-hour ago we'd be joking about all this? But that's just the way we do it here at the depressed bonding fest of summer 2002. Embrace the spirit. That night in the dark when we're lying intertwined, Celery and I have another cry. "Do you know when you leave?" I never did get around to asking for more details. It stopped being that kind of a thing after Jonas. "On the 22nd, so, we have 10 days." God. That's not enough. But, it would never be enough. Right? I mean, 10 years wouldn't be enough. "You know, don't you?" I whisper hoarsely. "I know." We hold on tighter. The next morning, I hear my parents and Celery talking in hushed tones as I'm coming down the stairs from my shower. I'm already slightly annoyed in a dumb childish way that he didn't take his with me, and when I creep quietly down a few more steps so I can eavesdrop better, what they're saying doesn't improve my mood. "Celery, you can't keep this from him." It's my mom talking. "He should know it's an option." "No," Celery shuts her down firmly. "Son, you know he'll probably want to go for it," Celery makes an angry sound at my dad. "Of course I know that! That's why I don't want to tell him. I really appreciate what you guys are trying to do, and it means a lot to me - it really does, I just can't let you do it. He belongs here, with all of you. I mean, so do I, but it's just not possible right now. I can't take him away from his family." "You know what he'll say to that," my mom says, I'm guessing, while she shakes her head. "How about what the fuck is going on?" I demand, storming in. I'm not the best at the whole lurking in the shadows thing. I can never stand standing around listening to people talk about me for too long before I have to storm in and say my piece. "Oh shit," Celery moans, deflating, sinking into a chair. "Carrots, your mom and I have been-" "NO!" Celery bellows, startling all of us. His eyes are practically on fire. "Son," Mom begins soothingly. He jumps up, eyes still smouldering. "I said no. Please." "What the hell are you hiding from me!" I shout at him, with blazing eyes of my own. He cringes, and I'm immediately sorry, but not enough to let it go. "Celery, you have to tell me." He looks like he thinks doing so would kill him, but I hold firm in my gaze. "Celery," my dad questions. He looks up, and nods weakly before sitting back down. I guess he's given Dad the go ahead to fill me in. "Sit down, Care," Dad instructs gently. I do. "Like I was saying, your mom and I can see how much Celery's leaving is affecting you - both of you - and we've been trying to figure out a way to ease that pain. We know how much you don't want to be separated, and all we could think of was that since Celery can't stay here - you should go there. We can't move, but there are lots of good boarding schools in the area of Calgary They're moving. It's late, but we believe we would be able to get you into one. We've already sent out some letters to test the waters. Selfishly, we naturally want you to stay here, but more importantly we want you to be happy. We want you to think carefully about what you need for that to be the case." It's a damn good thing I'm sitting down. It's also a good thing I'm not looking at Celery right now. He was going to try to hide THIS from me? I can't even begin to try to understand why. I don't need to think carefully. He's all I've ever needed to be happy. He's my whole happiness in the entire world. I don't need to think about that, but I do need to think. I'm so mad right now, it's like, I can't even talk. I feel like if I looked at Celery I'll completely fall apart. Yelling, screaming, crying, swearing, full collapse. So I get up from the table, still not looking at him, and say to no one in particular, "I'm going to my room for awhile," making it very clear that's alone. Celery says nothing, and since I'm not looking at him, whatever facial reaction he made is lost to me. I stew for about an hour, too angry to be doing any actual thinking, time not calming me down very much. There's a knock on the door, and I just know it's Kyle. It has to be Kyle. Kyle will always push when Celery will give me space and time. "Go away," I mutter sullenly. The door opens anyway. Definitely Kyle. "Okay, bro, what's got you so pissed off?" I don't look up. For a long time I don't answer either. "You really don't know, or are you just trying to be the like sympathetic eared innocent in all this?" Kyle pulls the chair out from my desk and sits down. "I really don't know. I just got home, remember? I was out with Jonas, - there was some stuff he wanted to talk about, just needed to cool off mostly. Turned out to be an all night thing. When I get here, Celery's crying, Mom's trying to comfort him, Dad's pacing the kitchen and you're nowhere to be found. No one would tell me a damn thing. Celery couldn't stop crying, Mom couldn't stop trying to get him to stop and Dad couldn't be bothered to stop pacing. So, in case you didn't hear me the first time, to answer your question, yes, I really don't fucking know." There's a long, wounded silence, and then I just go off on him. Nothing personal about it, just Kyle's the one here, so he's the one who gets to feel a lot of my wrath. When I'm done, he doesn't say a word. Not for the longest time. Then finally, he says, "Oh." "Oh?" I fire, all sarcastic. "That's the best you can do? No telling me I'm an idiot, no insults and sarcasm?" He looks at me sadly, and I meet his gaze for the first time. "I don't know what else to say. I don't even know how I feel about it,. I guess, I'm not sure I'd want you to go. I mean, you're my brother." "So's Celery!" He nods with difficulty. "Exactly. I don't want to lose both of you," he sounds ready to start crying. "I'm sorry," I say, meaning it. I am sorry. I'm sorry that I don't feel like it's enough. That they just aren't enough for me. Kyle and Jonas, my parents, Kara and the twins. I'm sorry I love him more than them. Kyle gets up off my chair, and comes onto the bed with me. I suddenly find myself in the very strange position of being held by him. Since you know how rare HUGGING is for us, you can imagine what this is like. But really, after all the weird, it feels really good. "You've got nothing to be sorry for, little bro," he assures me gently. "But..." "I know, I just don't think you're right. It's just different - the way you love him. It's not more, it's just different. Okay, maybe it's also a little bit more, but mostly it's just different. I've known you since the day you were born, I've seen you practically every day of your life. Family is different, we're like routine," god that sounds awful, "It's not like that with Celery. There's this like desperation or something," he actually laughs. "Like, I'm guessing you don't exactly wake up burning with the desire to see my face every morning," I'm shocked to find myself smiling, "That doesn't mean you don't love me, right? You just don't love me the same way you love Celery." "Which is a good thing, 'cause that whole incest scene really isn't cool," I always make really weak jokes when I'm coming back from being really upset, but Kyle laughs, 'cause he knows about my weak jokes routine, and I guess he's happy, thinking it means I'm slowly starting to feel better. Which I kind of am. For this moment I am. But later, when I have to face Celery, I'm relatively sure I'm going to go back to feeling like crap pretty quick. Kyle keeps on holding me for what seems like hours, and it keeps feeling both really weird and really comforting and safe. Kind of like the way I felt when Dad hugged me when we first broke the news. At some point that I can only classify as later, there's another knock on my door. The hesitant, timid nature of the knock lets me know it's Celery as clearly as Kyle's forceful, abrupt one had given him away earlier. Kyle lets me go, and gives me a half smile. "You ready to see him?" I'm stuck for a second, all choked up about how protective he's being, and then I nod. Nodding because I wasn't sure I'd be able to talk (probably not the best sign, but hey). "Okay," he says, getting up and walking over to the door. Before opening it he turns back to say, "Love you, bro," I favour him with one of my patented weak smiles. "Love you too, Kyle." He nods and opens the door. Looking past Kyle, I see Celery's forlorn self standing in the hallway. He's biting his lip, and his eyes are practically black they're so dark a grey. Kyle wordlessly slips past him and disappears down the hall. Celery seems to be waiting for me to say something. I guess he's still not sure he's allowed to come in. I push myself up against the wall, like being sitting up makes me less vulnerable, and motion him in. Still with the not trusting myself to speak. Celery inches his way in painfully slowly and shuts the door behind him once he finally makes it all the way inside. For maybe the longest time in the history of us, no one says anything, and it's a bad silence. Full of accusation and pain, worry and fear. "So tell me already. I know you've got some fucked up logic behind why you did it. I know it. So just get on with it. Give me that list of doubts and fears, tell me which insecurities and wacked acts of selflessness directed you this time so I can feel all guilty for being upset, realizing you did it 'cause you love me so much and we can make up like nothing happened," He doesn't say anything to this, and I add nothing more. I think we're both more than a little stunned by what came out of my mouth. I've never said anything like that to him before. Never set out, knowing what I was going to say, intentionally trying to hurt him. It's not even all because of my anger or feelings of betrayal, it's like he has to feel it, because if he doesn't then we're not even any more. Equal pain and joy. That's the way it works. We feel everything together. I couldn't look at him while I said it of course. If for a second I'd seen the pain I'm sure is written over his face, I wouldn't have been able to finish. And I felt like I had to finish. Another horrible silence has fallen. I'm determined not to be the one who breaks it this time. I think I was doing less damage before under my no-speaking policy. "I'm sorry," I let my head hit against the wall. "Don't tell me that, man, I can't hear that." My voice is thick with soon to be shed tears, with desperation and hopelessness. I can feel him approaching, though, careful to look everywhere that he isn't, I can't see it. "I'm not sure I can't even stand to hear myself say it," he admits desolately. Finally I look up. The pain in his eyes is profound. I have to look away, a second more and I would have caved completely. Him in my arms, me telling him he didn't have to say anything. "I was afraid you'd say no," It's like an explosion in my brain. I can't even think that's so crazy and absurd. "What?" It took ages for my brain to regroup enough to remember how to put that word together. He laughs bitterly. "I know. I can't even really believe it myself - but that's why I did it. I told myself it was because I didn't want to take you away from your family and it was that in some ways, but that's not what stopped me from asking you. It's not what made me lie. Maybe it's still what's going to stop you from coming, but the only reason I didn't tell you was because I was afraid. There was this tiny part of me that kept telling the rest of me you were going to say no - or that you'd say yes except you'd only say it 'cause you felt sorry for me, not because you really wanted to. I understand that one percent of insanity you're always talking about better than you think, Carrots. Why do you think I always know how to help? It's 'cause half the time I'm feeling the same thing. Calming you down is usually how I calm MYself down. I know you think I'm this totally honest guy, but I'm really just a big liar." "You're not a liar," I sigh, rolling onto my back. "You just have a lot of trouble telling me the truth," he snorts, "when you think it's going to hurt me. You're always trying to protect me from shit, a lot of the time unnecessarily. It's like you think your needs and wants always come second, and sometimes that makes you hide yourself from me. I guess it's just a hard habit to break. You've been looking out for me since day one, shielding me from the rest of the world." "I just didn't want to you to be like me." "Huh?" "When we were little, I loved you so much - not that I don't anymore - it's just, one of the things I loved best about you was that you were a kid. You acted like I thought kids were supposed to. I mean, you were mature for your age, but not like me. I was hard when I first met you. I'd never loved anything before in my life. I had no memory of anything ever loving me. Knowing you brought me out of that shell, little by little until it was almost like it wasn't there, but the whole time I was taking those walls down I was building a different set up around you. I never wanted to see you crying or upset, I thought I could get in the way of any problems that might befall you and that way you'd never have to be hard and turned off like I was. You know that's why I started lifting weights and shit? I wanted to make sure no one could mess with you. I've been doing it my whole life, Carrots, I don't know how not to be this way," This is all so much worse and more serious than I imagined. It goes so much deeper. We're going to be here all fucking day. "Celery, I..." "No pity, Carrots, no tender understanding. Finish what you started. How else am I ever going to get over this? It'll never happen if you keep letting me get away with it all the time." "I don't know how to stop you any better than you know what it'll take to stop yourself!" I protest with panicked desperation edging in. "At least we're on the same page." We go back and forth like that for hours. Getting through some stuff, bringing up new really scary stuff, generally doing the one step forward three steps back thing all day long. We break once for food, to go to the bathroom, and to show everyone we're still alive and talking to each other at least, but that's basically it. Now, suddenly I'm looking out the window and it's dark. We've found each other again by this point, enough that he's holding me at least, even if things are far from being okay. With everything else, we've barely touched on whether or not I'm going to go with him to Calgary. We've been quiet for awhile now, so I think I'm going to bring it up. "Cel?" "Yeah," he murmurs into my hair. "What about Calgary?" I feel him shudder against my back. "I don't know." "Do you want me to go?" "I want you to be happy," nice cop out. "That means I go with you to Calgary." He sighs. "You shouldn't leave your family." "YOU'RE my family. I mean - you're a part of ME, for crying out loud. And it's not MY family I'd be leaving. It's OUR family. You have to know that you're every bit a brother and a son to them as I am. But forget about everyone else - do YOU want me to come?" "I don't know." "What don't you know?" "Well, obviously I want to be with you," he's moving out from under me, frustrated and no longer able to sit still. "I want that more than anything. I want it like, I don't know, like a junkie wants heroin. We're addicts, you know, Carrots? I'm not sure it's right for us to be like this. It can't be healthy - in fact I'm sure it's not." "So you're saying you think we need some time apart to like get over our addiction?" "I don't know what I'm saying. I can't even begin to imagine life without you. It's a joke for me to say I think it's what's best. I don't believe that. We're supposed to be together, that's what I believe. I'm not supposed to be leaving, that's the problem. We both belong here, with our family. I just, I don't know. I feel like it's already one wrong, my leaving, and you leaving too, it'd just be that whole two wrongs making a right thing. And I also don't think we can just forget about everyone else. You're needed here. Jonas and Kyle need you and your parents need you. The twins are just hitting highschool and all drama that comes with the later years of teenhood. This coming year's going to be big for them, they're already changing so fast. Then there's Kara! She loves you a lot more than you know. She's not even showing it much, 'cept maybe to your mom and me sometimes, but she's really taking all this hard. It's not even 'cause I'm leaving - not entirely. She's really afraid for you, she keeps saying she knows how sad you're going to be, it's like the thing that's bothering her the most." He sighs, pausing for ages. "I guess that's what it comes down to. I want you to come but I know you should stay." And as much as it's killing me, into as many pieces as it's breaking my heart, I know he's right. "Okay," he jerks his head towards me. "Okay?" I shrug. "Something that I know is right has never made less sense to me or hurt me more, but I do know you're right. It seems totally ludicrous 'cause I'm pretty sure once you leave I'm going to die, but I know I have to stay," Even though he knows it too, even though we both get that this is what has to be done, it's not too gorgeous hearing it out loud. The half second it takes him to get back over to me seems horribly long, but now that we're holding each other once more, I'm at least able to breathe again. About an hour later, still holding on tightly, we start talking again. "Carrots?" "Yeah." "Do you still want to marry me?" "What?! Why would you ask me that? Of course I do!" In my shock and agitation, I sat up. I'm looking down at him now. He looks sad. "I just thought, maybe, with me moving and everything that's happened..." "Oh for heavens sake, Celery! You haven't been listening to me at all - have you? Not these past weeks, not today," I accuse, the pain evident in my voice. "Sure I have-" "Then you should already know the answer to your question," my voice's gone softer though, despite the harshness of the words. "Sometimes you know things, but you still need to hear them out loud to be able to really believe they're true," I feel any of the remaining fire in me die an instant death. "I know, sorry for getting all ragey," I apologize candidly, slipping back down into his arms. He strokes my face. "Sorry for making you think..." I kiss his shoulder. "It's alright." "I'm sorry for everything," I sigh. "I know you are. So am I." "Why are you sorry?" "Because something happened that was really bad and that I wish didn't. 'Cause even if you were being crazy I understand and I don't want that for you. Because I love you even if you are an idiot - which is no less than you deserve, since you do the same for me," he almost achieves a smile. "Thanks," I shrug. "You're welcome," he sort of bites his lip. "The marrying thing, I had a reason for asking - beyond what I already said." "Yeah?" We're both trying to be quiet, 'cause it's late, so I speak in a hushed tone. "Yeah. I want," swallow, "I want us to get married. Like, now. Before I leave anyway. With the family and something, some symbol. I need us to be permanent." "We ARE!" Not angry, panicky, desperate for him to be sure. "I know, I honestly do. It's just, I need some kind of reminder." "Something permanent you can carry with you," I say, nodding, getting it at last. "Is that, like, really pathetic?" "Huh. As if. Like I wouldn't have thought of it if I was as smart as you. I've been feeling that I needed something, I just didn't know what it is. But you've hit it. Still don't know what the what is exactly, but at least I know generally. Permanent. That's what it needs to be." "Tattoos!" Celery suddenly exclaims. The whispery kind of exclamation, but definitely an exclamation all the same. "Tattoos?" "Yeah! Not like a dragon or anything stupid like that, just words," I can tell by his voice he's thinking this up as he goes along. "Yeah, words. Our names - nothing weird or elaborate. Just our names," I'm starting to get into the idea. "We could have each other's," where though? Wait! Got it, "On our wrists! Going across the undersides of our wrists, I could get Celery and you could have Carrots." "Perfect, baby," he says, kissing me. I'm suddenly very excited. "Your name on me forever, that's permanent enough, eh?" "I'd say." We grin. Actually grin! Not a sad smile or a weak grin. Real, actual, honest to goodness grins! Wow. I missed this feeling. We kiss hungrily. I've missed that too. "I love you so much." "I love you too, say it again." "I love you, Celery, I love you, I love you, I love," kisses in between each word. "Oh baby, I love you too." We keep kissing and it gets to be so that talking really isn't in the equation anymore. --- Edited by Ed.