Moments In Time

P O V: Keavy Lacy

Méan Scoil Mhuire

Newtownsmith Galway, Ireland

Summer 2020

“Life is made up in a series of moments put together. Endings are beginnings, and beginnings are endings. The Beginnings of our post-secondary life mark the endings of our school years unless, of course, we are lucky enough to go onto universities.”

Standing in my secondary school, Méan Scoil Mhuire hallway, I feel like I have one foot outside these halls into my current life of forty-years-old and one foot in my former life. My past has come blaring back with my memories of my speech at graduation; I was honored with the title of dux, I was asked to make a speech.

Those words haunt me now as I stand in front of the trophy case lined with pictures, poems, and quotes from various classmates next to the trophies, all in front of a giant banner which reads Graduating class of 1999, last class of the century. I was so young, so innocent, so naive in so many ways.

“Our beginning of knowledge is the end of ignorance when the light of childhood fades away so does the clinging to our past, our parents, our teachers, for now, we step into this unknown scary, darkened world of adulthood. On our own without their hands or advice to guide us. Gone are the sounds of laughter in these halls no longer will we hear J.B. loves E.L. From this moment on, E.D. will now have to learn to shut-her-fecking-mouth on her own without J.J., K.R., or A.G. paying her to shut-the-feck-up for five bloody minutes, Jesus Mary and Joseph!”

My classmates’ laughter echoes inside my mind as those memories of graduation continue to swirl inside my brain; my eyes scan the photographs captured moments. I land on one picture, which makes my whole body shudder. There I am at the ripe old age of sixteen, a few months before receiving my learning certificate and posing with the class stud, the star of our rugby team Joavan Boyle in my purple glittery spandex dance uniform.

Pausing to close my eyes, I am taking back to that moment smelling the fresh-cut grass which always made me sneeze, the warmth of Friday night lights coasts over my back even now. The roar of the crowd comes blasting back as our boys of fall burst onto the rugby field. My throat starts to feel scratchy with the memory of loud we yelled to support those lads; we weren’t called cheerleaders back then that term didn’t come to Ireland till 2010; back then, we were a dance team who entertained the audience and supported our classmates. We weren’t the stars they were. We didn’t compete in competitions; we were simply on the sidelines, but we screamed loud; we showed pride because we were proud.

“So many memories, god, we grew up so fast. Too fast even though at the time it seemed to take forever. So many emotions.” The voice of Lindsay Gael fills my ears as I smell her tantalizing scent of cherries and almonds, filling my nostrils, her voice holds a soft laughing tone laced with nostalgia. Anger is the first emotion that I can identify when I gaze at J.B.’s photo; he looks so damn smug posing between myself, my twin sister Edele holding up a dirty gesture towards the camera rugby uniform wrinkled covered in dirt.

How could he do this to her? To me? How could he say he loved E.L. or any girl when J.B. was doing what he was doing behind their backs. My chest tightens so tight only short angry wheezes can now escape my dry lips. Gone are the sounds of laughter inside my head, along with my innocence and ignorance. Silence is all I hear now. I feel a rising tide of nausea, which has gripped me tightly, forcing me to my knees, gagging me so many times for the last twenty-five years.

Every time I think of J.B.’s betrayal, his stupid ignorance he so freely used for his excuses of cowardliness, I gag, covering my mouth, my body shaking as I hear his voice yelling out. “J.B loves E.L.! I will never leave you, baby; I will never hurt you!” She would fall for it every time and rightly, so why wouldn’t she? J.B never gave Edele any reason to believe he was anything except the prince every grownup made him out to be.

According to the teachers, he was a brilliant mind bound for university; to the coaches, he was sure to be a star in whatever sport he wanted.

He was a polite, sweet-nurtured a sensitive young man whose parents did right in raising him, said every elder. I remember how our priest joked that J B was so sensitive as a child if he didn’t know better, he would have thought J.B. was one of those fairies the bible preaches is a sin. Of course, our priest knew better; the whole town knew better Joavan Boyle was a lad who loved his lasses.

J.B. looks so young in this photo; when I raise my hand to touch it, I feel the tears glisten behind my emerald orbs. “Friends Forever, Keavy, we will never be too far to talk, never be too big to look back and remember the times we farted in the back of the trucks wrecked and staring at the stars dreaming of our future’s.” Those eyes stare back at me; a lesson of history blasted from my past. J.B.’s face was beat red as his mouth hangs open in laughter, his cyan eyes shining so bright. Fifteen- Years of age in this photo, his eyes glow as Christmas candles when they sit in the window sills waiting for that magical day to arrive. More memories flood my brain, chasing Edele around our room as we flung wrapping paper balls at each other, squealing as we got hit.

Our faces rosy as we breathlessly collapsed on her bed, our heads were resting against each other, our arms locked around each other. “I got J.B. a blue cardigan because blue brings out the gorgeousness of his eyes. I love his eyes, Keavy. I swear I can see into his soul; Don’t look at me like that. I’m not mental; I swear J.B. has the sweetest eyes, they would never lie to me, they couldn’t. I would know the truth the second I looked into those puppies.”

“Liar.”

I hiss now rage fully coming back “Don’t!” Lindsay’s hands are quick to catch my fist before it smashes into the glass, seconds before I cop a charge for the destruction of school property and earn me a trip to the local hospital. Lindsay holds my fist tightly, lovingly in between her hands; I feel her warmth, which alerts me to how cold my body has become. “I know you are angry, sweetie, at what he did, but J.B. isn’t our only memory of our school years. We have so many wonderful moments; don’t let his lies ruin your view. Remember all the times we laughed inside these halls.” Lindsay’s hands move to my shoulders, directing my body to turn towards the lockers at the end of this hall. “This is where we met, remember that day.”

“How could I forget? I was running late for the first day of the Junior cycle, and I never looked around the corner.” “Yeah, you crashed right into me knocked me on my bum; it was sore for weeks afterward. I was so mad!” “Yeah, and I was so upset, I cried God, I was so young then so shy they use to call me An Ceann Cúthail. You were so alarmed because I cried that you threw your arms around my shoulders gave me your crisps to make me feel better.”

“Cheese and onion, yummy, my favorite!” “Yes, and we started realizing we had so much more in common we both love music, dance, traveling, coddle! That one moment, Keavy started a bond that has never faded.”

“Remember our first time performing as a trio in downtown Galway we were so inexperienced, so scared but Edele, took charge she got the audience pumped up she got us to relax, and she played with their energy. Your sister had this rare gift for knowing what people needed when they needed it.”

“Lindsay’s right Keavy, I remember when I first saw the three of you at the school talent show, you were so polished. I felt so silly because I was three years older, so blown away by your talent and connection. I wanted to be a part of that so badly but was so scared to approach you till Edele smiled at me and held out her hand to invite me on-stage. She was electric up there, and she got me to loosen up.”

Sinead Nolan comes up behind us smiling as she gazes over to that picture of the four of us from that night in 1995 the smiles so bright, our wide-eyed stares so young, so curious about what lay ahead. “Keavy, you are a counselor now try to bring yourself to that place of when you were just a scared fourteen-year-old girl or a curious, experimental fifteen-year-old. Changing in body, mind, soul, spirituality every-day was a discovery about ourselves and each other.”

“Remember this was the Ireland of the mid-nighties, not the progressive Ireland we know today. The bible was drilled into our brains from every waking moment to every sleeping moment. At home, at school, and the church, there was no separation between church and state like the Americans got; we were raised to be good clean Catholic school children. There was no room for sin, Keavy, do you remember that?”

Lindsay’s hands have slipped around my waist, resting across my stomach, sending waves of butterflies fluttering through my insides, which make me shiver in appreciation and love. “Yes, I remember Lindsay.” Lindsay’s breath tickles my neck as she leans in closer. “Do you remember how you felt that day in the choir room when you threw that fiddle at my head because I was too fast on the tempo, and you were too slow?” “Yes.” I laugh slightly. “I was so scared, you fell back, and I ran over crying; God, I cried a lot back then!”

“Yeah, but you were so cute, dear, I grabbed you when you came over Keavy and pulled you down, so you landed on top of me. I can still recall how fast my heartbeat felt, how dry my lips became, how I was at a loss for words because you were so damn beautiful.”

“You kissed me hard, Lindsay, I was so caught off-guard.”

“Yeah, you ran away in tears, you know you did cry a lot back then, my little An Ceann Cúthail. You were so scared, Keavy, so sure that we were both going to hell because we enjoyed that kiss, so much and the bible preached girls do not kiss girls, boys do not kiss boys. ‘If a man has sexual relations with a man as one does with a woman, both of them have done what is detestable. They are to be put to death; their blood will be on their own heads.”

“People back then here viewed homosexuality as a disease. A lot of people still view us as animals that have disgraced ourselves. We are older now more mature we can stand our ground, Keavy; it wasn’t easy to get to this beautiful place where we are now married for going on ten-years, with three beautiful children.” I lean back against my wife, so blessed to have her in my arms, I take in her scent and pray thanks quietly to our Lord for giving me this beautiful blessing. I never liked the quite when I was younger; now I treasure it.

“Back then, Keavy, you swore we had to keep us quiet, you swore telling anyone about us would equal death.” “I was wrong, okay, I admit it silence equals death.” “No, Keavy, you were right; in that case, if we had come out back then, we would have lost everything we held dear, our families, our friends, our school, our futures. Silence kept us safe; silence kept us alive. As hard as it was for us, I am sure it was 1,000 times worse for a lad like Joavan men are supposed to drink beer, screw ladies, burp, hunt, fish, and kick a football. Men are not supposed to kiss other men. J.B. faced his pain and fears alone; we at least had each other for support Keavy.”

“He had Edele the same as we did! She would have accepted him; she accepted me. Her words Lindsay you remember them, I know you do because you cried when she told us, your sexuality doesn’t change who you are. Kissing a girl doesn’t alter your sarcastic, funny, shy, loving hearts. You will always be my pain in the ass sister and my annoying loud best friend.”

“You’re twins, Keavy, of course, she accepted you, there’s a bond there no one can break, I was your girlfriend she accepted me because you loved me. Edele is amazing; we both know that, but maybe J.B. didn’t trust her with the same unwavering faith you did; I was in doubt even, you convinced me to trust you, I love you, so I put my faith in your hands.”

“He lied to my sister J.B swore he loved her, convinced her he was trustworthy she believed him. Edele gave him her heart, her soul, her trust, her innocence, her body. The whole time he was cheating on her sleeping with every gay man in Ireland and probably half the damn U.K.! His silence cost my sister everything Edele would have never known if I hadn’t developed Leukemia; if I didn’t need that bone marrow transplant, she would have never have gone for all those medical tests.”

“My sister would have never learned she was H.I.V. positive.”

“She did learn though Keavy, we can’t change that.” “It was too damn late, Sinead!” My rage hits me in a shattering wave bringing me to my knees. My throat is choked as sounds strangle in the back, unable to form vows or pronounce words; tears cascade down in painful burning waves. All this anger, all these tears do nothing to take away my pain seeing my sister in that hospital bed gasping for air, seeing the shock on her face, holding her painfully thin body covered in open sores, deep purple bruises. Tears racking her body as the reality hit her, she was dying, my beautiful vibrant, soulful effervescent sister born twenty minutes after me, dying at seventeen-years-old.

“She never got to confront him! That bastard went and died before her; she never got the chance to express her feelings; instead, she had to sit by his bed-side, hold his hand and comfort his lying, cheating ass!”

“Yeah, how selfish of him dying at sixteen; he was a real coward Keavy.” “Don’t mock me, Lindsay!” I laugh despite myself convulsing in tears and laughter, what a strange feeling, “How could you, J.B.? How could you go and die, leaving my sister alone?”

“I wasn’t alone, Keavy.” I jump at Edele’s voice as she comes out of the corridor; neither of us wanted to go to this stupid reunion today; she flat out refused, wishing to put the past where it belonged in the past. I thought I could do it, honor our band’s commitment to preform. I was wrong; I knew it the second I stepped foot inside, and everything flowed back to me. “I was never alone, sis, I always had you by my side and our two amazing beautiful best friends and group mates.”

“I had some terrifying times being diagnosed with a disease in 1996 that was causing so much paranoia, and had killed 32,655 people it was mind-numbing, I thought about killing myself, but I couldn’t leave you alone, besides I loved life too much. I had grand dreams. Now it’s 2020; I am alive; my viral load is undetected. I fought hard to live Keavy, and I won’t blow it with anger or regret at a boy who died way too young. I made choices, like unprotected sex, I have to live with the consequences.” “I’ve forgiven J.B, I understand his fears, his ignorance, I had my own; we all did it’s called youth.”

“Our school years hold a lot of amazing memories getting lost in the woods, thinking a bear was chasing us, climbing that tree, and sleeping in it all night.” “Yeah, only to discover that bear was a broken tree branch blowing in the wind.” “I pissed myself in that tree, not funny!” “Oh, so funny, Keavy!” Lindsay shoves me as we laugh, “Getting drunk and smashing the windows of our headmaster’s car and running from the police.” “Late-night rehearsals dreaming of our future’s, we were wide-eyed innocent and curious.”

“We were so young our smiles are frozen in time, we had no idea which songs we wrote would-be hits if we would make it or go our separate ways, we had no fear though. We were just happy to be alive and chasing our dreams.”

“Dreams that came true, ladies, we are embarking on our tenth world-tour tomorrow; we committed to our school to perform tonight at our 21^st reunion. Let’s go in there and blow everyone away with our talent, say hello to old friends, and laugh at embarrassing memories, throw money in the faces of our naysayers, and brag about how rich and famous we are now.” I smile at my sister, taking comfort in her strength, humor regarding our past; I am so thankful she is here, so I will take her advice and enjoy tonight.