Date: Tue, 12 Feb 2008 12:43:21 -0600 From: Karla Schulz Subject: Carrots and Celery Series: Damage Deposit (Chapters 9 and 10) I meant to have more up earlier, but school has been super busy lately. Thank you again to everyone who wrote in, I'm sorry I haven't been able to get back to you but know I truly appreciate hearing feedback, it makes my day on a regular basis! --- Chapter Nine; combat baby (Carrots) When I get up the next morning Shelly's already gone, but I corner Kyle alone at the breakfast table. "What the hell man?" His eyes snap up from their focus on his folded hands, pleading with me. I raise my hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. Just, are you alright?" He laughs. "I don't know." I reach out and grasp his hands across the table as I have done so many times before these past months. I try to give him a look that conveys love and support. I've never been so good at sincerity when not masked in a joke, but lately I've been trying to make an effort for the people who matter. "Anything I can do." It's a question and a promise, a reminder of the vow we've all silently made with each other. He nods. "I know. And. Yeah, right now I just need to," he sighs, "I just need to catch my breath you know?" He nods to himself. "I can figure this out." Its such classic Kyle, I almost want to laugh. Instead I just smile, and give his hands a squeeze before letting go. We stare at each other for awhile longer, nothing else needing to be said, and then he starts to get up, cleaning up his dishes, but stops half way to the sink and turns back to look at me. "It was really good to see him though, wasn't it?" I smile, and nod seriously. "Yeah Kyle, it was." --- I pass the word on that Kyle is not to be disturbed, interrogated, and of course, because it's Kyle, everyone agrees without complaint. But that doesn't stop us from talking about it nonstop amongst ourselves. Braden, who doesn't even really remember Shelly, has the most questions. "Who even is this dude? I mean when he walked in you guys all sort of looked at him like he was the second coming and I've never even heard of the freaking guy." I try to explain. "He was a friend of Kyle's... a couple years ago, from like the summer before he was in grade nine until the end of that year. He moved away." Braden rolls his eyes. "He strolls into this place and is met with open arms after it's been on lockdown like its Fort Knox for months and that's all you remember about him?" "Well, I was like 12 at the time, but they were really tight. Kyle was really weird for awhile after he left. Like, he was exactly the same, but he didn't seem like himself? You know?" I sort of screw up my face in concentration, trying to remember the details of a long forgotten memory. "And like I said, Shelly was only around for like a year. I remember it was really different when he came along – Kyle'd always just had a huge bunch of friends, all close but just mostly guys to do stuff with, have fun, chill, like you'd expect, you know, from Kyle. But then Shelly moved in a couple blocks away, and for the year he lived there, they were almost never apart. And I mean, he was awesome. Like, he was only around for that short time but it was like nothing had ever made sense like Shelly and Kyle being best friends made sense. I never saw him happier, more, I don't know, himself, you know?" I look to Celery for confirmation, and he nods. "Totally. They were like, in each others blood or something. They just fit, and because he fit with Kyle he fit with us." He smiles. "I remember they would try to get us to play sports and Carrots would go along with it because he wanted Shelly to think he was cool and he'd always end up injuring himself and shit." I glare at Celery and attempt to regain control of the conversation in order to move it away from such irrelevant details. "Everyone thinks I'm cool, especially Shelly, who had the good sense to recognize even at a young age my potential greatness. And it totally sucked when he moved away. That's one thing I remember though, when he left it was just like – pfft. Gone. That's it. They didn't even write letters or anything. Which I mean, is not that weird, I guess, considering how old they were and the kinds of friends they were." "Yeah, so what kind was that?" Keenly. It is the question on everyone's minds. But I try to remember it in the context it seemed then. "Well, I don't know. Just like, dudes you know?" Braden raises his eye brow. "Dudes?" "Yeah. They were on sports teams together, they hung out, but it was all... Kyle's always been strange like that. In the sense that he was very "normal" with his friends. Very "teenage boy!" you know what I'm saying?" I hope so, since it's kind of the same mysterious category in which I also lump Braden and the twins. The three of them share a semi-disdainful glare. I attempt to clarify. "It's like – when I asked him why they weren't staying in touch – I remember because I got really mad at him about it – he said `it would just be too weird'. Considering Celery, I couldn't understand how a little weirdness wouldn't be worth keeping close to your best friend... but it was always different for Kyle. He didn't think about things like that. Then. I don't think." "Hmm. What was he like, Shelly?" I grin fondly. "Just like Kyle. I swear, sometimes you'd have thought they were twins. Most times actually. They barely had to talk to each other, they were always just nodding at each other and smiling, like they were having a conversation in their heads they didn't need to bother speaking a loud. It made them an unbeatable combination at any sport, I remember. Kyle dropped out a bunch of sports after he left – he said it wasn't as fun anymore." I smile again, remembering something else. "That's the only time I've ever really seen Kyle listen to anyone else – to let someone else take the lead. I remember it really blew my mind at first, I mean, there was my big brother, who'd always taught me things, always seemed totally in charge and in control of his life, but when Shelly came along, he was suddenly always deferring to someone else. It was weird." "Totally weird," Celery agrees. "I once heard Kyle actually say the words "I don't know what to do" in front of Shelly. I mean, it was like in reference to what they were going to like hang out and do for the day, but still, at like 11, with the picture of Kyle I had in my mind as a kid then, always the man with the plan, well, let's just say my world was rocked. But then, they were always fighting each other on shit like that too, sometimes just for the fun of it, though, seemed like." Braden's nodding, taking all this in. "So you guys noticed and remembered all this and still none of you picked up on the fact that they're totally soul mates who have been madly and secretly in love with each other for years?" And I mean, sure, we've all been thinking it, but hearing him just lay it out like that... man. Eventually though, I have to just nod. "Yeah. Pretty much." The twins and Celery are just nodding too, looking pretty embarrassed for themselves. Braden shakes his head in disgust, fond but exasperated. "You people are hopeless." --- Later that afternoon, when we're all out working on the ice rink the twins were inspired to make last week in our backyard, while Kyle is busy helping Kara with her science homework, which typically involves him getting really excited and agitated about precipitation and photosynthesis and Kara's eyes darting around the room looking desperately for a way out, Braden scratches his toqued head and asks, "What about Jonas?" We all stop what we're doing and glare at him for awhile. It might sound a little dramatic, and well, insane, but we don't really, you know, speak his name. "What ABOUT Jonas?" Dave eventually demands, with the appropriate about of distaste. Braden shrugs and leans against the shovel in his hand. "I don't know, I guess it's just that Kyle's... I mean, it's not like he's exactly over him, you know?" I can tell he's trying to put this as diplomatically as he can, just like I can tell the twins kind of want to punch him right now for even suggesting such a thing. "There's nothing to even talk about." Jon insists. "Shelly is here and Jonas is GONE. He's not coming back, and if he tries, we're certainly not letting him anywhere near Kyle, and that's all there is to it. Whatever happens with Kyle and Shelly is their business, and obviously we've all got their backs no matter what. But Jonas is history." Looking extremely reluctant, pained even, Celery raises a hand in protest. "I don't really know if that's true." The twins shift their glares to him, and he just raises his eye brows at them, as if to say, `please,' a confirmation that he's on their side, and doesn't like having to say this anymore than they like hearing it. "I mean, it's Kyle. He's not exactly the grudge holding type. More so the forgive you before you even realize you should be asking for it type, actually. I mean, we all know this right? We might not know much but we at least know that. Kyle is too good a guy." He sighs. "It's not like Jonas hasn't used that to his advantage before." Shakes his head. "It's not like we all haven't." "That's different – we're his brothers." Dave protests. "And Kyle knows we love him, that we'd do anything for him, no matter what. He can count on us." He argues, not bothering to state explicitly the still obvious implication that this is far from the case when it comes to Jonas. "Yeah, so fine. I'm on board team anti-Jonas." Braden replies, picking back up where Celery left off. "I'm just saying, this is Kyle we're talking about here. I'm just hoping the situation isn't going to be too complicated for him." The five of us share a look, following that statement, and we might as well have all huddled up and shouted "GO TEAM!" because the result is the same, we've come to an understanding, we're taking our stand, and we're gearing up for war. Saddle up, lock and load. Chapter Ten; sounds familiar (Kyle / Shelly) When he wakes up to Shelly banging on his door and alternating between shouting his name and calling him a pussy for still being in bed he feels like he's fallen through the rabbit hole, back in time, like he's 14 again and the sound of Shelly's voice at his door had him scrambling for clothes even before he was fully awake. Things aren't so different now. When he yanks the door open a few seconds later in nothing but a pair of sweats the look on Shelly's face suggests he wants to throw him against the nearest surface and well... They go running instead. They run like they always did, silently, feet hitting the ground in sync. They run for about an hour, weaving around the old neighborhood, passing by their old haunts, Shelly's old house, sharing smiles and carrying on. If you questioned him about it later Kyle would tell you he wasn't exactly planning for them to end up at the old playground where they first met, would claim instead they just sort of ended up there. He'd only sort of be lying. When Kyle rounds the corner to turn into the playground Shelly smirks, but says nothing. They fall to the ground in weary satisfaction, pausing to take large grateful gulps of water from the bottle in Shelly's pack before stretching out. Winnipeg's having one of its increasingly less rare October's without any lasting snow, but the ground is hard and cold beneath them and soon they're up on their feet again. Kyle's eyes meet Shelly's in a silent challenge, cocking his head towards the basketball hoops. Shelly throws his head back and laughs, exhilarated. "Okay man – you asked for it." They play just as they did then, that first time. Fast, brutal, no words passing between them. When they're done Kyle is sporting a bloody nose and a victorious grin. Shelly hobbles down beside him to where Kyle'd collapsed onto the steps of the school. "I think you may have dislocated my shoulder." Kyle removes his now gloved hand from his still bleeding nose long enough to manage convey sarcasm despite near incomprehensibility when he says, "Poor baby," and goes back to holding his nose. Shelly just grins and massages his tender, though not actually dislocated, shoulder. They sit in companionable silence for a few minutes which is eventually broken by Shelly saying, "Carrots mentioned you gave most of it up, the sports stuff, after I left." Kyle makes a `yeah, so?' nod of affirmation. Shelly's grin broadens into a chuckle. "Just wasn't as fun without me huh?" Teasingly, light. "That's right." Kyle answers back, steadily. Serious. Shelly sighs. "You're so... you're so fucking SPECIAL Kyle. So talented, so amazing. YOU. Why do you gotta always let other people define the parameters for you? Why do you always have to be only what other people expect you to be, want you to be?" Kyle releases his nose long enough to free up his right shoulder to shove Shelly gently. "You're just pissed cause I haven't played regularly in over six years and you've probably been playing in senior varsity teams straight till now but I still kicked your ass." Shelly lets out a surprised laugh and shakes his head. "Yeah. You're right. That's totally what's pissing me off." Kyle grins. "That's sad man. Sad." Shelly rolls his eyes and jumps up, brushing dead leaves from his pants. He holds a hand out to Kyle and pulls him up. "Come on. I'll buy you a victory bagel superstar." --- That evening, that is, the evening of the day Shelly and Kyle spent the morning eating bagels and holding on tightly to their coffee mugs to stop themselves from doing the other things they so desperately wanted to be doing with their hands, Kyle has invited Shelly over to dinner and after his classes, he comes over. Kyle has spent the afternoon making spinach and ricotta ravioli and baking a fresh loaf of sour dough bread, mentally berating himself for being a huge girl the entire time. Carrots and Celery stayed wisely away from the kitchen all afternoon, and warned Kara and the twins to do the same on their walk back from school. By the time Shelly arrives, Kyle is covered in flour and has bits of tomato in his hair, but the entire house smells rich and tantalizing and Shelly actually groans when he walks through the front door. "Holy mother," He moans in appreciation. Carrots smirks, Celery grins. They usher him into the living room and sit him down before gently knocking on the kitchen door. Kyle has been listening to early 90's punk bands all afternoon to calm himself down, and Carrots has to knock again to be heard over the blare of Propagandi's More Talk, Less Rock. "Kyle man," he eventually shouts. "Shelly's here." Something metal crashes against the floor and Kyle swears loudly. Carrots chuckles and inches away from the door. "I'll tell him you'll be out in a few minutes." He goes back into the living room and does just that, managing, out of love and respect for his brother, to do it with a straight face. Shelly simply nods and settles in more comfortably on the couch. He stretches his legs out on the book and magazine cluttered coffee table and folds his arms above his head, hands meeting to rest against the base of it. "So guys," he says with a relaxed smile, "let's hear a little more about what you've been up to lately." He looks at them seriously. "You fucking yet?" Carrots chokes and sputters with embarrassment but Celery just nods and takes his hand. "Yeah, uh, we are." He smiles. "We sort of got married actually." Shrugging. "You know, symbolically and shit." He leans over and shows Shelly his tattooed wrist. Shelly laughs and slaps his knee in approval. "Fucking A gentlemen. I always knew you had it in you." He continues to grin at them like a proud parent and Carrots and Celery grin helplessly back. The moment is eventually interrupted by Kara, who ventures into the living room looking for her math text book. After a brief search, it is discovered under Shelly's feet. "Here you go sweetheart," he says, the endearment rolling naturally off his tongue as he hands it to her. She smiles and then dashes from the room. "She's still freaking shy I see," he notes conversationally, still smiling. Carrots and Celery nod. "Yeah definitely. But that was a pretty fucking warm reception when it comes to Kara. She remembers she can trust you." Carrots assures. Shelly's smile broadens but turns self-deprecating. "You guys are going way too easy on me." Celery shrugs. "What's going on between you and Kyle is complicated, but it's your business. We're giving Kyle the space to figure it out his own head. That doesn't stop us from being super excited to see you." Carrots nods, to indicate his approval of this statement. "That being said, if you hurt him we WILL beat you to death with shovels." Shelly nods gravely. "I would expect nothing less." They chat casually after that, swapping anecdotes and reminiscing. Carrots and Celery talk briefly about their year apart, but that time exists altogether in the past for them now, and they're quick not to dwell. Shelly allows them to steer the conversation away from it after shaking his head and saying with utmost sincerity and understanding, "That must have been brutal. I'm sorry you guys had to go through that." They don't have to remember the years he and Kyle have spent apart, only look into his eyes, to know Shelly understands exactly how hard it was. --- Dinner is a lively and delicious affair. They forgo cutting the bread and simply break it off in steaming chunks whenever someone needs it. The homemade tomato sauce is universally agreed to be worth the amount of it that got in Kyle's hair and his great anxiety that the ravioli would not stay together properly proves unfounded. They feast and talk and make increasingly outrageous toasts to each other and the chef most of all. Kyle sits at the head of the table and when he looks around at all of them, his family and friends, one and the same, he feels his heart swelling with the kind of wellness he hasn't felt in months, and breaths out a sigh of relief he didn't know he had been holding in. When Shelly catches his eye and raises his glass, just a little, a mischievous and fond smile on his face, Kyle doesn't even have time to think about it before he's smiling back. --- Over the next week, Shelly comes and wakes Kyle up early every morning, and they run in the grey crisp cold until their muscles are warm and tired. During the day Kyle bakes bread and cakes and peanut butter bars and prepares lunches for when Kara and the twins come home from school. He plays music to fill the house and reads curled up in the big comfy sofa chairs in the living room while Carrots and Celery play Jenga and Mexican Train on the dinning room table. And every evening Shelly comes back again, and they have family dinner together, sucking Kyle's homemade linguini through their lips and drinking the wine Shelly sometimes brings. After dinner Shelly usually has to study, but after the first night he was convinced to bring his books over with him, and evenings are spent with Shelly behind piles of textbooks, muttering to himself and making notes, highlighting, while the family moves around him. Kyle will read philosophy or study along with Shelly, asking him questions to test Shelly and himself. The twins and Kara will join in when they have work of their own, and other times will just sit on the living room floor, the twins playing video games on mute, with Braden more often than not, and Kara drawing in her sketchbook. Carrots and Celery will do the dishes and makes lists in the kitchen, backing each other up against counter tops to delve into each other mouths or lie together on the living room couch, murmuring things to each other and their siblings. When they have time they'll watch movies, or TV, all sprawled across the living room and each other. Every night when Shelly has to leave, he and Kyle hold each other close, and breathing into each others necks, before finally forcing themselves to let go. Each time Kyle looks at Shelly pleadingly, filled with an abject need for forgiveness for always needing more patience, more time, and each time Shel will take Kyle's face in his and kiss his forehead and then leave while promising over his shoulder to see him tomorrow. Once he's gone, Kyle will stand, clenching and unclenching his fists, fighting to control his breathing and stop himself from punching the wall in frustration. Then, once he has calmed himself down, he will return to his brothers and sister in the living room, where they will be waiting for him, arms open.