C'est la vie
Written by Caleb Wilson
Part 7
The Decision
He could see Blake chasing Timothy with his arm raised, his hand holding a knife. He ran after Blake to try and stop him and try as he might, he couldn't lessen the gap between them. He was sweating now using all his energy to try and reach Blake to stop him and just as he reached the knife wielder, he turned and slashed with the knife. He jumped back to avoid it and woke sitting upright in his bed, his nightshirt soaked and sticking to his body. He rose from the bed, went to the toilet and rinsed his face, used some hand towels to wipe the sweat from his body, then made his way down to the kitchen.
He poured some milk into a mug, put it into the microwave and warmed it. He added a couple of spoons of chocolate, stirred it and sat down to sip his drink.
"What's wrong son?" and Kai Webster turned to see his father standing in the doorway.
"Nothing, Dad. Just had a bad dream and decided to come down for a drink. Sorry if I disturbed you."
"You didn't disturb me. Your mother did. I was in cloud cuckoo land. She heard you moving around and thought it better that I should get up and keep you company. Are you still worried about Timothy?"
"No, not really since Mr Clarkson phoned and said that he'd woken up and asked about me. I feel a lot better. It's just something that I've got on my mind."
"Well, if it's not too personal, maybe I can shed some light on the problem." He looked across at his father and knew that he could talk to him on just about anything, but the only drawback was that his father tended to be rather long winded on his views and at times lost track of the issue and in any case how was he going to put it to his father that for the last three years he had been trying to suppress his feelings for other boys, hoping that as he grew older those feelings would wane?
His thoughts were broken by his father saying
"Are you going to confide in me or would you prefer to keep it to yourself?"
"You know I'll tell you, but, Dad, can you please answer sorta straightforwardly instead of being long winded and going all around the mulberry bushes?" Frank Webster looked at his son.
"Humph! Yes, well... all right," he exclaimed. "Tell me what the problem is." Kai Webster hesitated for a moment, then stood and walked to where his father was standing in the doorway.
"I feel really awkward, Dad, trying to say this, but I've been trying real hard not to be like it, but I can't help it."
"Be like what, Kai?"
"Umm... oh God! Dad, it's so hard to tell you."
Frank Webster stepped forward and put his arms around his son.
"It's all right, Kai. I have a pretty good idea about what you want to say."
"You do, Dad? Then what is it?" Taking his son by the shoulder and leading him into the sitting room and getting them both seated on the settee, he turned to Kai saying
"You want to talk about your sexuality." Kai Webster looked at his father and on the verge of tears and with lowered voice asked
"How did you know?" Smiling and looking at his son's drawn face, Frank Webster said
"Well when I have a son who's fifteen going on sixteen years of age and who's never had a date with a girl, or hardly ever talks about them, or even makes remarks about them on the television, then as a parent I think I must start assuming that my son is not interested in the opposite sex. If I'm right, I think the only girl that you've ever spoken to at any great length or been out with is your cousin Samantha who is more or less like a sister to you. At times I thought that I could have been wrong with my assumptions, but when you were hesitant about bringing up the subject just now, then I had a good idea what was on your mind."
"Are you disappointed, Dad?"
"Why would I be? Your mother and I are jointly responsible for who you are. So why should we be disappointed with what we created? But tell me, Kai, has any of this got anything to do with Timothy?"
"Yes, Dad. You see I've been trying to suppress my feelings for other boys for ages thinking that I may grow out of it. That was why I didn't stop Timothy leaving the house when he told me he was homosexual. I was still trying to keep my feelings bottled up and felt I didn't need to have Timmy around me as a temptation for my them. It was while I was getting Blake and Fletcher to lay off Timothy at school earlier in the week that I realised my feelings for him, but still I kept him at arms' length. But after the stabbing I was really scared that Timmy might die. He kept closing his eyes and trying to sleep before the ambulance arrived. At first I yelled his name to wake him, the second time I kissed him. He said it was nice and I told him that I'd do it again when he recovered if he stayed awake. He made me promise that I would and I promised. Now I'm trying to decide if I should keep the promise. I don't think that he'd even remember about it."
"Kai, you made a promise under stress, but the important thing is do you wish to keep that promise because you have feelings for Timothy? Or was it made on the spur of the moment in the hope that it would help in keeping Timothy awake and alive? If you really don't have any feelings for Timothy other than friendship, then I'm sure he'd understand and won't hold you to that promise. But whatever you decide, and I'm sure I can speak for your mother as well, we will both support you in whichever decision you make."
"Thanks, Dad. I'll have a talk with Timothy when we can be alone and see how it goes."
"Okay, son. Now I think you'd better try and get some sleep." He lay in his bed thinking about what his father had said and also reliving the sensations he'd got when kissing Timothy. He closed his eyes, then opened them quickly again fearing he might have a repeat of the dream that had shocked him awake. 'Got to think of something else,' he thought. 'Yeah, how Arsenal came back from a goal down to beat Tottenham 3-1,' and he closed his eyes reliving the match.
It was Thursday morning before the doctors in the hospital felt that Timothy Clarkson had recovered sufficiently to be moved from ICU to Mother Theresa's children's ward. On hearing the news Mrs Clarkson phoned the Webster house informing them of Timothy's progress and that if Kai wished to, he could visit Timothy later that day, telling them that they could pick up Kai and give him a lift when they were on the way to the hospital.
By 1.30 pm he was ready and waiting for the Clarksons to show and he didn't have long to wait. He was up and saying goodbye to his mother and out of the door before Mr Clarkson could get his finger on the doorbell. Kai followed him to the car and was surprised to see another woman sitting in the back seat along with Linda. He was introduced to her and found out that she was Timothy's Aunt Lucy who he was supposed to stay with during the half term break.
"So you're the young man that we have to thank for saving Timothy's life?" the woman said after the introductions were made.
"I don't know what you mean, Ms Clarkson," Kai said looking confused.
"The hospital said that if you hadn't stemmed the flow of blood from the wound," Mr Clarkson said as he drove, "Timothy's condition would have been a lot more serious than what it was and his chances of survival would have been very slim."
"But Mr Clarkson, it really should be the other way round," Kai said.
"I don't understand, Kai. What do you mean by that?"
"Timmy took the knife that was meant for me," Kai said looking across at Mrs Clarkson who'd turned in her seat to look back at Kai. "He saw the boy reach for it and tried to stop him and got stabbed instead."
"Seems like you two boys owe each other," Jack Clarkson said. "Just hope there won't be any further incidents in the future."
"I don't think there will be, Mr Clarkson. The boy who was the cause of all this when Timothy was first assaulted in school was the one who stayed behind to help when Timmy was stabbed. I think he might start to change from what I've seen since he came back after being suspended." Their conversation was interrupted by Linda pulling Kai's arm till he turned his attention to her, asking "Yes, what did you want Linda?"
"When Timmy comes home, will you come and play with us?" she asked.
"Yes, of course, but you'll have to wait till he's really better."
When they arrived at the hospital, Kai brought up the rear following the Clarkson family to the ward where Timothy was placed. He stood at the foot of the bed and sucked in his breath on seeing the boy and grasped the foot rail so tightly that his knuckles showed white. Timothy had been thin before the stabbing, but now Kai saw him lying in the bed, his complexion so pale and looking much thinner, he looked decidedly skeletal. Again he felt the sense of guilt as he looked at Timmy. All this happened because of one stupid action on his part. He wished so desperately that he could go back in time and undo what had been done, but what was it Timmy said that his aunt kept uttering? He thought for a moment. Then it came to him. C'est la vie. 'So true,' he thought. 'That's life. What's done is done.' Now he had to make it up to Timothy.
He stayed at the foot of the bed while the family fussed around Timothy. He still had an attachment to his left hand that was monitoring his pulse and a drip on the back of the hand. From time to time their eyes met, then the bedridden boy's gaze would be broken as a member of the family required his attention. They spent an hour at Timothy's bedside. Then the adults said they were going home and would be back after tea to spend more time with him. As they left, Kai spoke to Mr Clarkson.
"I'll stay on for a bit longer, Mr Clarkson. I want to have a talk with Timmy. I can get home on the bus."
"Are you sure, Kai? Your parents are expecting me to bring you home."
"It's okay, Mr Clarkson. I'll come out to the car park with you and phone my mother. If she gives me permission, I'll come back to the ward to spend some time with Timothy." The man was agreeable to Kai's suggestion and after speaking to his mother Kai made his way back into the ward.
When he walked in and sat by Timmy's bed, the boy had his eyes closed and seemed to be sleeping. Seeing Timothy's arm outside of the bedclothes, the one free from any tubes, he gently lifted it, then clasped the hand with his own. Slowly the small boy's eyes opened and seeing who was clasping his hand, his mouth broke into a smile and voice, barely audible, whispered
"Kai?"
"Yeah, it's me," he said stroking the hand. "I decided to stay a bit longer to keep you company."
"I'm glad you stayed. You know I dreamt about you the other day. Can't remember much about it, but I know it was nice." He sat staring at the boy who looked so frail and something inside of him just seemed to take control of is actions. He didn't care where he was or who was watching. He leant forward in his seat and brushed his lips against those of Timothy's. "That was better than any dream," the smiling boy said, then in a more serious tone asked "Is it because you're feeling sorry for me, Kai, or is there another reason?"
"Yep, I'm feeling sorry for you, Timmy, but I don't go around kissing everybody I feel sorry for, only an idiot who took a knife that was meant for me, and also I have other reasons, but we won't go into that yet."
"Okay, can we have another quick one. You taste really nice."
"No, I don't want you getting excited," and Kai silently laughed as he saw the disappointed look on Timmy's face. He couldn't keep up the pretence for long. He smiled and leaning forward again brought their lips together and kept them locked a bit longer than the first time. Breaking the kiss and taking Timmy's hand, Kai said "I'll be around tomorrow same time." Moving his hand from Kai's grip and lifting it to grasp his jacket to pull him closer, Timmy, his voice hardly above a whisper, said
"Don't come the same time tomorrow. Come an hour later. By then they will have all gone home."
"Okay, Timmy," and they continued to talk about all the things they were going to do when Timothy got out of hospital till Kai said "It's time I got going, I think. The visiting time has long gone," as he stood and slowly let Timothy's hand slide through his fingers. "See you tomorrow," he said as he walked away from the bed. At the doorway he turned and looked back at the boy lying in the bed, waved to him, then disappeared from view.
He arrived home just after his father had returned from the office and he'd hardly divested himself of his jacket when he was questioned by his parents about Timothy. He told them how shocked he'd been at his friend's appearance and that he'd promised Timothy that he would return tomorrow at 3.00 pm.
"Do you want me to give you a lift?" his mother enquired.
"No thanks, Mum. There's no hurry. I can hop on a bus. It stops right outside the hospital."
Later that night he had the same dream of chasing Blake and trying to stop him from stabbing Timothy. What shocked him awake this time, and he was shaking violently, was that after the boy had finished stabbing Timothy, when he turned, it was his own self that he was confronting with a twisted smile on his face. He went downstairs and got a glass of water taking it through to the sitting room. He sat and slowly sipped it.
"This is getting to be quite a habit," his father's voice proclaimed as he came and sat beside his son. "Bad dreams again?"
"Yes, Dad," and the boy related his dream to his father.
"You're suffering from a guilt complex, Kai. You're blaming yourself because of what you did with the homework incident, because of the injuries Timothy has sustained at school, and now the stabbing. They have all stemmed from that one action on your part. But I'm sure, Kai, knowing the nature of the boys involved, if it wasn't that, then they would have found some other reason to pick on Timothy."
"I know, Dad, but until I know he is out of danger and out of hospital, then I don't think the dreams will go away."
"If you don't mind me asking, when you were alone with Timmy, did he bring up the subject of the kiss at all?"
"He didn't have to, Dad. When we were alone and I was sitting at his bedside and he was dozing, I just couldn't resist it and kissed him."
"So how did it make you feel?"
"Like a thousand electric shocks running through my body and I didn't really want to leave him."
"You'll see him later today. Now do you think you can get to sleep again?" Putting the glass on the coffee table the boy said
"Yes, Dad, and thanks," and as he stood he bent over and kissed his father on the forehead saying "It can't be good to have your sleep interrupted and trying to give up smoking as well." The man swatted his son's backside playfully.
"If my smoking increases, I'll blame it on you."
Friday afternoon he bade his mother goodbye and caught a bus to take him to the hospital. He was in good spirits and hoped that when he got to the hospital, there wouldn't be any relatives around and he could be alone with Timmy. Half an hour later he was walking down the corridor that led to Timothy's ward. He was excited at the prospect of being able to express his commitment to Timmy not only vocally, but also physically. He felt relieved that he didn't have to restrain his feelings for him any longer. He'd made his decision and there were no more doubts on his mind as to how he was going to lead his life. He entered the ward and stopped rooted to the spot. His blood turned to ice with feelings of dread coursing through his body as he stared at the empty bed in front of him.
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