She straightened out an end cap display. “He still lifts with his legs.”
His dad came back into the store, rolling a dolly of boxes filled with inventory. Even though his dad was still tall and strong, Mac saw age start to get the better of him. The crows feet, the hair that’s more salt than pepper, the slower gait. He knew his dad would try and tough it out until they carried him out of the store.
He spotted Mac and left the boxes in the middle of the aisle.
“I took an early morning bus,” Mac said, answering the obvious question.
Nobody knew what to say next. Mac pulled his dad’s letter out of his pocket. “I found this.”
He registered a modicum of surprise on his dad’s stoic face. His dad didn’t give up much more.
“I didn’t know,” Mac said.
“And we didn’t want you to know,” his dad said. “You would’ve made Aunt Rita rip up all those checks, and you would’ve taken on two afterschool jobs or even dropped out of school to make up the difference. Anything than accepting charity. You’re stubborn.”
“Takes one to know one.”
His dad cracked a sliver of a smile.
“Why didn’t you want me to come back here? I ran away to Pittsburgh because I was hurt, because you didn’t believe me. I would’ve come back, but you didn’t want me.”
“We were protecting you, Mac. Some people in this town would not have welcomed you back,” his mom said.
Mac thought of the graffiti on the side of the building.
“Things didn’t go back to normal once you left,” his dad said. “We didn’t want to risk you returning and getting in trouble again.”
“You also didn’t want to ruin your relationship with the pastor.”
His parents traded a look that admitted some truth in that statement.
“You know that I didn’t hit on Justin Weeks.”
“It was a very….” His dad searched for the right words. He probably wasn’t used to having a talk like this. “It was a very turbulent time, okay? One day, everything was fine, the next you’re…”
“Gay?”
“Yes. And getting in a scuffle with the pastor’s son. You kept insisting that we do something, but I didn’t know what to do. I just thought it was a fight. I got in my share of fights growing up.”
“You let yourself believe that.”
“I didn’t know what was going on. I’d never met a gay person, and then you tell us this story. The pastor told us what happened, that you hit on Justin, and we believed him…because we were scared.” His dad hung his head, ashamed by the admission. “Our lives are in that church. Our friends, our neighbors.”
“And they were more important than me.”
“The comments and looks and names didn’t stop once you left. It felt like there was a police spotlight on us whenever we went anywhere. Word got out about what happened. I didn’t want to expose you to that anymore than you’d already been.”
Another battle for Mac. Another person who had to fight it.
His dad sat on a step ladder. He was tired on every level. “Your parents aren’t perfect. It was a turbulent time and we tried to make the best decisions we could. Should I make you come back home and face Justin Weeks and this town for another two years, or do I make you stay in Pittsburgh where you can live your life, even if you hated us for it? Here.” His dad opened a box of wrenches, and without thinking, Mac stocked them on hooks. He didn’t have to remember where they went. That information was programmed into his head.
“You blamed me, Dad. Justin looked at my computer. He and his friends followed me when I left school, and they cornered me and beat me up. I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t go down the street like a one-man gay pride parade.” Mac had tried denying what was on his computer when Justin and his crew asked him, but they saw through his stammering lies. “Why didn’t you stick up for me at all?”
“It was complicated, Mac,” his mom said, trying to soften the blow. Her face was all pain. “We were scared.”
“I was scared, too. School was hell for that month before I ran away.” Mac stared at them with wide eyes, with such intensity that he felt his voice echo in his throat. “I was born gay. It’s in my blood. Nothing anyone could do could ever change that. I can’t stop this. I can’t change it. It’s who I am.” Tears streamed down his cheeks. He let them fall. He wanted his parents to see this. “Those guys, they found out, and they attacked me for being something I can’t control. And everyone turned their backs to me. But I thought that I still had you. That’s what hurt the most, knowing that you didn’t have my back.”
They didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Mac hung the wrenches. He didn’t know how long the silence would stretch
