The Bridge Where Jerry Died
by Jason D. Karl
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and is not based on any actual persons or events. The views expressed by the characters in the story are those that the author imagines such characters might have and are not reflections of the author's actual beliefs.
Caleb Warner didn't think he was a coward, but neither was he particularly brave. He'd accepted the fact that he was gay when he was fourteen but hadn't yet gotten up enough nerve to tell his parents. He didn't think they'd have a problem with having a gay son because they were both well-educated and relatively liberal for a small town. His dad was a pharmacist at the town's only drugstore, and his mother had been the town's city clerk for years.
In history class, Caleb had learned the expression "line of demarcation." He realized that the same term also applied to what was holding him back from telling his parents. Once he finally did say it, there would be no going back. There would be a before and an after. Saying "I'm gay" would be his line of demarcation.
Still, he thought about coming out.
The only reason Ryan Sizemore knew his secret was because of a slipup during their freshman year. Caleb had commented that he hated it when they played skins vs. shirts basketball in gym class. Ryan didn't say anything at school that day, but as soon as they were alone, he asked Caleb what he had meant. The blush was all the confirmation Ryan needed before confessing he was the same. That's how they became best friends: the only two gay boys they knew of.
It was the ongoing question of bravery that had led to that day's adventure. He and Ryan were headed to the old railroad viaduct that was just outside of town. Its main pier had been damaged beyond repair by an earthquake many years ago, and it had been condemned. With no money to tear it down, it just sat there decaying.
Whatever its official name, the locals all called it the "Bridge Where Jerry Died." The stories about who Jerry had been were as varied as the tales of how or even when he might have died. Most versions of the story held that Jerry haunted the bridge for any of a hundred reasons. Ghost or no ghost, nobody went to the Bridge Where Jerry Died.
Almost nobody.
Caleb and Ryan had gone there many times. They'd never set foot on it; they just went to see it. Mainly, they would go there because they didn't dare talk about being gay much of anywhere else. After all, this was a small town where being different was frowned upon. However, on this particular Saturday afternoon in early September, these two 16-year-olds were going to do something they hadn't dared to do before: they were going to cross it.
It was Caleb's idea that they should start at the far end of the bridge, the part that led out of town. It took over an hour to work their way there. They'd had to cross the ravine using the pedestrian bridge and then make their way down an old gravel road. But it all had a purpose. This way, if they chickened out and didn't cross the bridge, they'd have to trudge back the way they came. Or they could cross the bridge, and from there it would only be a quarter mile to town.
Caleb and Ryan stood at the remaining stretch of track that led to the bridge. Most of the old railroad had been torn up to make room for new roads and houses, but the part that led to the Bridge Where Jerry Died was still there.
"Last chance," Caleb said.
Ryan just smiled. "No, let's do this."
Both boys had already finished their growth spurts and were now tall and skinny. Caleb secretly wished his hair were blond like Ryan's, but he was resigned to boring old brown. His greatest fear was that he might let it slip just how sexy he thought Ryan was. But they were best friends, not boyfriends. Caleb had to keep reminding himself of that.
They began walking along the railroad toward the viaduct. Ryan said, "Dane Spicer or Charlie Donahue?"
Caleb didn't have to think it over. "Neither one. Dane just got another girlfriend pregnant, and Charlie always smells like motor oil."
Ryan tsk-tsked. "You know the rules; you've got to pick one."
"Fine. I guess I'd suck Dane; maybe it'd keep him from getting a third girl pregnant. Okay, your turn. Anthony Smallwood or Roger Combs?"
"Can't I just suck both of them?"
"Nope. Like you just said, you have to pick one."
"Anthony, because I think he might be one of us."
This was their secret gay version of the very crude game the boys at school played. Of course, they were both virgins and wouldn't dare make a move on anybody. But Caleb was surprised at Ryan's suggestion. "Why do you think Smallwood is gay?"
"I overheard him telling a girl that he'd watched every episode of Glee."
Caleb laughed. "Well, I'm queer but haven't ever seen it."
"My dad would kill me if I even attempted to watch it."
Ryan's parents were Pentecostals. There was no nice way to say it: they were religious fanatics, but especially his dad. Caleb had tried to help Ryan come to terms with faith and being gay without pressuring him about what to believe.
Caleb asked, "Are your folks still on your case about speaking in tongues?"
"No. I just started faking it to shut them up."
"I think it's all fake," Caleb admitted.
"You think everyone's faking speaking in tongues?"
"Yeah. But not just the Pentecostal stuff. I think church is fake."
They reached the edge of the bridge. Ryan got up on a rail. Caleb followed his lead and got up on the other one. They joined hands and stepped onto the Bridge Where Jerry Died.
"What is your favorite Jerry tale?" Caleb asked.
"I don't know about my favorite, but the silliest one was that Jerry was a dog that jumped off the train and fell into the ravine."
Caleb thought he could outdo that one. "I heard that Jerry was a train robber and was gunned down by a posse in the 1880s."
Ryan went one better. "I heard that he was on the run from the mafia, and one of Al Capone's men tracked him down here and tied him to the railroad."
"Have you heard any that you think might be true?"
"Not really."
Caleb said, "I asked the school's librarian about it once, and she said that Jerry had been an inspector who was out on the bridge when the earthquake hit and it threw him off."
They walked gingerly along the rails for a while. It was Ryan who interrupted the quiet. "I sometimes think that Jerry was one of us."
"You mean he was gay?"
"Maybe. I mean, as hard as it is now, it used to be so much worse. Maybe he was gay and decided to jump off."
Caleb thought carefully before answering. "I've heard a hundred versions of the story, but Jerry doesn't jump in any of them."
"Maybe it was so horrible that the people in town started telling stories rather than face the truth? And then the last person who knew what really happened died, so now we just have ghost stories."
Caleb had to step off the rail he'd been walking on because part of it was missing. He stopped walking for a moment. "Ryan, are your parents that bad? So bad that you're thinking of jumping?"
Ryan stepped off his rail too. "No, I'm not. That would be letting them win. I plan to get out of this fucking town the day after I graduate and never come back."
"I would miss you."
"Then come with me. We can go to New York or San Francisco or anyplace we want."
"That's two years away; a lot could happen." That was all Caleb could think to say.
"1 year, 8 months, 19 days."
Caleb said, "I don't know. Maybe. But there's something I need to tell you. I've been thinking about coming out to my mom and dad."
"What!"
"I think they'd be okay with it. I know they support same-sex marriage, so maybe having a gay son wouldn't be so bad."
Ryan took a while before answering. "Must be nice. I can't ever tell my family. My dad says that 'homos' are all child molesters and that's how they recruit. Somehow or other, getting raped by a man is supposed to make boys want to suck cock."
Caleb had, of course, heard such stupidity before. "Well, I'm a 100% virgin, and I very much want to suck a cock."
"Me too. But Dad would say we're all lying, covering up for the perverts who recruited us."
"What about your mom?"
"She claims being gay is the devil's lies caused by the demon of Gomorrah."
This answer puzzled Caleb. "What? Not the demon of Sodom?"
"Don't ask me. She says God revealed it to her when she was praying in tongues."
Caleb felt he should shift the conversation. "Do you believe in God? I mean, really believe he actually exists."
"Yeah, don't you?"
"Not exactly. I think that if there is somebody up there, he's nothing like what the preachers claim."
"But if you think there might be somebody up there, doesn't that mean you believe in God?"
Caleb had never actually verbalized his often-contradictory thoughts, but he tried to explain. "I think that if there is a Creator, he'd take being called 'God' as an insult."
Ryan had a puzzled look. "Why would that bother him?"
"Because of all the shit people do and claim is the will of God. That's why I think church is fake. It's mostly people using the Bible to condemn everybody else, but they don't actually follow it themselves. So, yeah, I think if there really is a Creator, he'd be pissed off if someone called him a god."
"I hadn't thought of it that way. But you do believe in a higher power?" Ryan asked.
"Some days I do; some days I don't."
"It's okay. I love you no matter what you believe."
Love? Ryan had never said that to him before. Nor had Caleb said it to Ryan, though he very much loved him.
They walked in the middle of the bridge until they got to a place where the rails were once again intact. Without speaking, they rejoined their hands and started walking on them again.
A little over halfway across, they found a faded plastic wreath that had been wired to a wooden crosstie. But the tie had rotted, and the wire was rusted. The wreath's plastic flowers were so faded that it was unclear what type they were meant to represent.
Ryan said, "I guess this was left for Jerry."
Caleb looked for a placard, but there was none. "I suppose so."
"What if this is keeping his ghost tied here?"
Caleb didn't believe in ghosts, but what did he really know? "Well, if it is, maybe we should get rid of it."
It didn't take Ryan much effort to loosen the wreath. He walked to the edge of the bridge. "Jerry, if you're still here, it's time to move on." He dropped it off the bridge. They both watched as it landed in the river below and floated away.
Caleb didn't see any ghost retreating or moving into the great beyond, if there were such a place. But this still felt like a solemn occasion, as if something important had happened. "Good-bye, Jerry."
Ryan said, "You can rest in peace now."
The bridge creaked. A raven that had been perching on a beam took flight. But no ray of light broke through the clouds, and hell was just as quiet as ever.
The boys joined hands again and resumed walking on the rails.
Ryan said, "Have you ever had a cigarette?"
"No."
"I've been thinking about it," admitted Ryan.
"Wouldn't your dad say it was the devil's weed or something?"
Ryan shook his head. "That's the weird thing. Alcohol is sin in the bottle, but he's not against smoking. His dad was a tobacco farmer, and some of my uncles smoke. So Dad won't hear anything against it. He even claims that some people need to smoke, so it's wrong to stop them."
"He doesn't smoke, though. Does he?"
"Not usually. Sometimes when Uncle James comes over, Dad will bum one of his. But Mom makes him sleep on the couch when he does because she hates the smell."
Caleb hated to think of Ryan stinking like an ashtray. "Please don't start. People get hooked on those things and can't quit even when they get emphysema or cancer."
"I was just thinking about it, wondering what it was like. But you're probably right. Hell, if my dad is for something, that's probably a good sign not to mess with it."
Caleb thought about how very different his parents were from Ryan's. "My dad let me have a beer on my sixteenth birthday."
"Seriously? Did you like it?"
"Not really. It kind of made me want to gag. Dad laughed and said that it was an acquired taste. I told him that I'd let somebody else acquire it."
When they were about three-quarters of the way across, Ryan said, "I want to have sex so bad I can't stand it."
"Me too. I jack off every chance I get, but it's not enough." When Ryan didn't say anything, Caleb continued, "Do you think glory holes are real?"
"I don't know. What's a glory hole?"
"They're supposed to be in dirty places in the city. They are little holes that you stick your dick into, and a stranger on the other side of the wall sucks you off. It's supposed to be completely anonymous."
Ryan frowned. "Sounds kind of far-fetched. I'd be afraid of getting splinters in my dick."
They both laughed.
Caleb said, "What if the stranger bites your dick?"
"Don't say that!" Ryan complained but laughed anyway.
"Maybe that's how vampires really feed. They trick men into sticking their dicks in little holes."
Ryan said, "That would still count as sucking cock, just not for cum."
They said no more because they had just reached the end of the bridge. Together, they took the final step back onto the ground. They had actually done it. The two boys turned around and looked at the Bridge Where Jerry Died. Had anybody else crossed it in the last fifty years? Caleb doubted it. He couldn't help but feel a sense of empowerment by what they'd done.
He turned and looked at Ryan. Then he realized they were still holding hands. He didn't let go.
A moment passed.
Ryan put his free hand on Caleb's cheek, leaned forward, and kissed him. It was a tender and gentle kiss.
Caleb smiled. He'd never been kissed before. He put a hand on the back of Ryan's neck and pulled him in for a second kiss. This one was longer.
They were gay. It wasn't just talk anymore. They were definitely, really gay. This kiss was their line of demarcation.
Caleb couldn't hold back any longer. "I love you, Ryan."
"I love you too."
They kissed again. Lightning didn't strike. No one came to deliver them unto their damnation. They just kissed, and the world went on.
What was left of the old railroad went briefly through the woods and came out on the edge of town by Jackson's Dairy Bar. However, they took a detour deep into the woods. When they did finally get to the dairy bar, a very grinning Caleb bought them both a milkshake and a burger.
A few months later, Ryan's mother ran off with their Pentecostal preacher when word got out that they were having an affair. The shock and humiliation proved too much for Ryan's father, and he died of a heart attack.
No one questioned it when Caleb's mother (who was the city clerk) produced a letter dated three days before Mr. Sizemore's death that stated he wanted them to take care of Ryan should anything happen to him. In almost any city there would have been hearings and court-appointed guardians, but this was a small town that was set in its ways. So Ryan just went to live with his best friend's family, and that was that.
Caleb never technically came out to his parents; they'd just walked in on Ryan and him while they were kissing. His dad chuckled and told them to get a room. No words of disapproval were ever uttered, and awkward conversations were never had. It eventually dawned on Caleb that his parents weren't avoiding anything; it was just that they didn't see his being gay as an important enough topic to bother having a conversation about.
When an otherwise minor earthquake hit the town the following year, the Bridge Where Jerry Died collapsed and fell into the ravine. Ryan liked to say that Jerry's ghost had moved on. Caleb doubted it, but he was glad in a way that no one else could ever disturb the place.
As for who Jerry had been or even whether he had ever existed at all, Caleb never found out. But that was as it should be. Some things needed to stay a mystery.
The End
Voting
This story is part of the 2024 story challenge "Inspired by a Picture: A Bridge Too Far?". The other stories may be found at the challenge home page. Please read them, too. The voting period of 29 August 2023 to 20 September 2023 is when the voting is open. This story may be rated, below, against a set of criteria, and may be rated against other stories on the challenge home page.
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