Home Sweet Home

Staring at my bedroom door. Shut. The light pink paint looking back. I don’t even remember closing it. It’s never closed because Bubba likes to go in, jump up and sleep on the bed when nobody’s home. In fact, the last I remember it was ajar like always and I was in the hall standing on the opposite side.

My heartbeat is slowly becoming steady, my cheeks feel sticky and wet from my eyes. The soft cotton of the covers underneath me is bringing me some sort of comfort akin to calmly falling back to sleep after that initial panic of waking up in the middle of the night after you’ve experience one of your worst fears, only to realize after your initial panic, in a discombobulated state, that it was all just a dream.

One big horrific dream.

I never knew there could be bad dreams until today, and if it wasn’t for my brother Chaz giving me this metaphor, I wouldn’t have the slightest idea of what I’m going through right now.

Scrunching my toes against the now stained white carpet under my feet, damaging my socks even more, I glance to my left seeing the heart shaped clock telling me it’s been an hour since I arrived home. Given the circumstance the thought that its lunch time feels weird to me. Even as my stomach grumbles. My watery eyes trace further left to the pink trimmed window where Chaz, in a checkered black and pink button-up with black pants down to white shoes, leans against the windowsill, arms crossed, meeting my gaze.

“So, how are you doing Kendall?” he says with a slight smirk.

Looking back at the bedroom door I pick at one of my painted nails of my coated hands. I don’t even know how to ponder an answer to what he says or if my face even let him know that I acknowledged he was speaking to me. But nevertheless, his question becomes a loud echo in my head, like a constant pounding of a drum. The words started as soft beat I faintly heard registering in the back of my brain once my ears received them and quickly, like a freight train full steam ahead, the louder the words charged, banging repeatedly to the forefront of my mind, repeating without a trace of an ending in sight, leaving me unable to avoid it.

How am I doing?

Earlier, as I open my eyes, I am greeted by sunshine and chirping of birds outside the window welcoming me to a brand-new day. But what really puts a smile on my face laying closely behind me, under the silk white and neon pink covers every morning is the embrace in the arms of Maxine, the love of my life since, honestly, I’ve lost track of how long we’ve been together, but you know the saying: time doesn’t matter when it’s something or someone you love.

After the morning routine of giving her a kiss that conveys what words can’t, a quick tinkle and fixing the bed hair, I go to the kitchen, whip up various flavors of pancakes and brewed coffee just how Maxine likes it while she showers and when she eventually makes her arrival, wet messy short hair and all. To say we were thoroughly satisfied when the plates were licked clean would be an understatement.

I believe the aftermath went a little bit like:

“Oh my god, I don’t know how you make food taste better each day. I’d kiss you but I don’t want to move.” Maxine says leaning back in her seat rubbing her belly.

“A magician never reveals her secrets.” I reply motioning my fingers across my lips sealing them shut before going over and kissing her myself.

With the plates, forks and knives tucked away in the dishwasher I shower myself, because who doesn’t like to feel refreshed every morning before going to meet the world, especially given the plans I had today: I’m going to my ninth session of unicorn flying! Yes, unicorn flying! Like a unicorn but, with wings and I saddle it and shortly after I’m in the sky!

I open the closet full of hanging vibrant and flamboyant colors and soft fabrics and shoes on small rectangle shelves embedded into the wall. I pick out a blush shirt and denim jeans and black Chukka boots, brush my teeth, throw on some perfume and go to find Maxine in the living room, sitting on the leather recliner in front of the tv, drinking another cup of coffee looking at her phone.

“Hey! Wanna braid my hair for me?” I ask.

“Always.” Maxine replies setting her coffee down and scoots to the edge of the chair as I sit cross-legged in front of her. Her fingers gently rake through my hair and begins twisting and knotting.

“So, love, how’s the flying going? I mean, I know you tell me everything, but what are you going to be doing this time?” she asks.

“Honestly, now that you mention it, I don’t know. You know last time I got to ride one by myself so, maybe I hope I get to do that again. Alejandro says I’m making good progress.”

Alejandro is a horse trainer of all kinds. But he loves horses first and foremost. He sees them as one of the greatest creations to exist. He is also what my friends, and even Maxine at times has referred to as ‘A real manly man” or “A hunk of meat.”

One time when Maxine picked me up after one of my earlier sessions as we drove off and he faded into the distance, she looked at me, looked back to the road and put two fingers to the throat taking a deep breath.

“What’re you doing, babe?” I watched in confusion.

“Making sure I’m still gay.” was her answer. I lost it. I literally laughed out loud. I was howling.

I hope I get another alone ride this time. I mean, I am making progress according to Alejandro.

“All done, love” Maxine finishes. I get to my feet check the mirror on the wall giving myself a once over before turning,

“How do I look?”

“If you weren’t going out, I’d take you right back to our bedroom. In fact, I might do it anyway.”

I couldn’t hide the smile from escaping across my face, not that I ever tried or would ever try. It’s the words she says and how she speaks to me that warms me inside, like a fire I’d never want to go out even on a hot day.

Seeing my reaction, her own smirk spreads and I see that familiar look in her eyes. It’s the same I feel myself giving back to her even in the reflection. The passion conveyed through simple sight reading into each other’s mind, heart and soul. I turn and skip over to meet her for another kiss before she pulls me down sitting across her lap. I could stay like this forever. This is my happy place. My home.

I don’t know how much time passed before she pulls back. Her hands on my face, her stare back at mine and her grin returns.

‘You need to go. You’re going to miss your session if you don’t head out.” She utters.

“Wait, what time is it?” I ask, looking at the clock, I had thirty minutes to get to Alejandro’s farm and it’s at least that amount of time to get there so I’m going to be cutting close.

I jump up, give Maxine a peck, grab my purse and out the front door I go uttering to her: “Love you.” And as the front door pulls shut behind me, I hear the words: “Love you. Have fun flying.”

 I rush to my car, only to be greeted with a friendly wave by the neighbors; Karen and Brad Jefferson, who are tending to their front lawn. Brad wearing a blue shirt, perspiration leaking through, and shorts that have seen better days, sprinkled in paint stains, carrying a bag of mulch heading to the backyard and Karen’s blonde hair tied into a ponytail under a hat, face dirty and shovel in her gloved hands as sweat droplets running down her arms.

“Howdy, neighbor!” I greet.

“Look at you! I love it. I love all of this.” She motions with her hand at my appearance.

“Thank you! The garden is looking great. How much more are you doing today?”

“Oh, we’re about to wrap it up. Brad is carrying mulch to the back shed and I’m going to fill up this last hole and we’re calling it quits for the day. Where are you heading?” she asks.

“On my way to horse flying.” I reply with a bright smile.

“Oh, well that’s exciting. Maybe one day we can go together sometime. But you go and have fun. I got to check on him, to see what’s taking him so long, because I desperately need a shower. Have fun Kendall.” She says, waving before heading in the direction of where Brad vanished.

I get behind the driver’s seat, start the engine, reverse and pull away.

When I arrived at Alejandro’s farm, I was greeted by one of his fellow instructors, a bulky man named Brock who told me Alejandro was in the stable. I journeyed my way around the farm. I noticed there was a lack of people right away, but I didn’t think anything of it. Maybe everyone is just busy or has other plans. Maybe I’m not the only one taking flying lessons today.

When I arrived in the large stable to find other instructors tending to various horses. Alejandro had quite a variety: Pegasus, Hippogriffs, Hippocampus, Sleipnir, Unicorns and Winged-Unicorns, and even regular horses.

I found him feeding a stallion in the back. Hair slicked back, tan skin glistening in a ray of sun, tight purple shirt grips his chiseled muscles and white denim pants tucked into cowboy boots. He looks like he should be on the cover of romance novels or a poster for a movie, a commercial for a new cologne. Maybe all the above.

When I approached him, he had this look on his face I haven’t quite seen before. Pale and wide eyed like he narrowly escaped the clutches of a monster pulling him to the depths of an abyss. I voiced my concern. He then proceeded to tell me my session would have to be rescheduled for a couple days. Rescheduled? When I asked for the reason, he explained that on an earlier session one of the instructors ran into a black cloud and almost fell off. When he heard the news, he decided to see for himself. When he checks, at first, he saw nothing and as he was flying through a large cloud it almost immediately turned dark, causing him to feel grim, lightheaded and almost fell himself.

In his words: “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

I told him I was glad he was okay. He did seem a little shaken up. So, I reassured him it was okay to reschedule. I’m just glad everyone was safe. I gave him a hug and took my leave back to my car and pulled out of the parking lot trekking back home. Hey, now I get to spend the day with Maxine. So, maybe we can do something fun before lunch.

 I make a right turn at the stop sign at our corner and look ahead. I see the unmistakable neon blue with pink racing stripes in the driveway. Maxine’s still here. Thank God she didn’t run errands today.

I pull beside her sports car and head up the porch steps opening the door and shutting it behind me.

I take my shoes off, leaving them by the door. I call out. No response. I venture forward into the living room to the vacant recliner and couch. Sunny and clear skies display on the weather forecast. I call out again. Still, nothing but my own voice.

I stride ahead pass the kitchen as the dishwasher cleans. Pass the dining room and glace into the backyard. No sign of life anywhere, not even Bubba.

Backtracking to the living room and ascend the stairs only when I reach halfway do I head a faint noise, a voice, or maybe it’s just my ears. Given recent events it wouldn’t surprise me.

Proceeding upwards, reaching the hallway. An imposing sense of vacancy hangs in the air. I’ve never felt such an awareness of isolation before. Its as if I’m the only living thing in the world. I see the bedroom door ajar, more than usually. Maybe Maxine’s is showering again or sleeping. I stride to the door and glance inside. Clothes scatter below leading to the bed where Maxine lays under the covers sound asleep. Her arms wrapped around a bare torso attached to blonde wavy hair pushed aside behind an ear revealing the closed eyelids and sleeping face of Karen Jefferson.

Time stood still.

The blood feels like it completely drained from my body. I feel the onslaught of oncoming trembles and shakes.

Sweat forms down my body.

A cold chill engulfs me.

I feel a tightening pain in my chest sweeping down to my stomach. My hands clammy.

Nausea fills my stomach. A dry-heave surfacing accompanied by vomit closely behind.

My throat tightens and air evades me as I claw for a single breath.

I don’t remember moving, but I stare looking down the stairs, gripping the banister and wall. My brain seemingly malfunctioned. No thought to be heard. Just vacant space. I hear nothing except the watery and soapy sound of the dishwasher below. I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my teeth fighting the anger and dread beginning to take hold before I feel myself slip away into the darkness.

And alas, here we are. Again. Sitting at the edge of the bed.

Welcome back.

As I ponder the day’s events one final time. I glance back over to the window. My view no longer obstructed from the world outside. Chaz, now absent, like he was never here, as he likes to do during my most crucial times.

I can sense in my bones the motionless dead weight that lays behind me.

A wet tickle causes me to look down at my leg. The same red liquid on my hands and clothes leads a trail down the pink sheet and comforter underneath me and drips down to the floor next to my foot damping into a dot.

I watch the red below slowly spread into the carpet beginning to form a small puddle.

Looking back out the window. A bird lands on the roof of the Jefferson’s house and quickly flies away. Again, I ponder the question Chaz spoke to me.

How am I doing?

I think I have an answer. The only optimistic answer that can be found.

Well, at least it’s a beautiful day.