The Meaning of Life (part 7)

16 09 2010

After phoning my mom and getting yelled at on my cell phone, we started walking to Sean’s house.  Along the way, I kept thinking about Canada and how Sean had described it as being much freer than America.  It had made me want to go to Canada even more.

“So, Jeremy, you didn’t answer my question yet.  Are you…” Sean’s voice startled me yet again.  Oh yeah, that question.  I really didn’t know what to say to him.  I hated lying to myself; it only made me feel worse, but if I told him the truth, there would be no guarantee that he would keep it a secret, so…

“Well, are you going to answer me?”  He stared at me questioningly, seeing if the right response was written on my face.  I sighed and looked at him.  The same pair of strange eyes looked right back at me, which seemed to push me into telling him the truth.

“Am I what?” I asked.

“Gay!  Are you gay, Jeremy?  Is it that hard to understand?!”  The words came out harsh and bitterly.  I stopped walking and glared at him.  Why was he being so mean to me all of a sudden?  At once, he apologized.

“I’m sorry if I was too rough on you Jeremy, but in Canada…”

“Stop it!  Stop talking about Canada!  I don’t want to hear about it anymore!”  I couldn’t believe how annoying he was being.  Canada this, Canada that.  Why couldn’t you just shut up about Canada?!

This time, Sean looked as if he was the victim of the yelling war.

“I thought you liked Canada.”

“I do but every time you insinuate how much better Canada is than America, it makes me feel like I’m living in a dystopia of some kind.”

“Well, Jeremy, in some ways, this is kind of a dystopia.”  It’s one thing to shout at me but another to bad-mouth my country.  However, I knew he was right; Canada was all America wasn’t, which was a free nation.  I grumbled and kicked the ground, angry that Sean was correct.  Suddenly, I felt his arms around my shoulders.  My first reaction was to shove him away before anyone saw, but I was just so tired that I let him, all the while hearing him say, “I know, Jeremy; it’s okay, you’re safe with me.”

*           *           *           *

When we reached his house, it looked like any other house on the block.  There were bushes, shrubs, a few flowers and a pathway that led up to the door.  The house was painted a dark green, which matched the lime-coloured door.  My first impression of it was that it was so much better looking than mine.  It looked a bit bigger too.  Sean opened the door and let me in first.  The inside of the house was a lot like our house; staircase to the upstairs, separate doors to the downstairs rooms.  We headed up the stairs and into the kitchen.  His mom was there, preparing the dinner.  Sean went up to her and told her about me.

“Mom, this is Jeremy.  Jeremy, this is my mom.”  His mom was a little shorter than he was, with the same hair and eyes.  Bags under her eyes indicated that she hadn’t been getting much sleep lately.  She reached out and shook my hand firmly.

“Nice to meet you, Jeremy.   I’m glad Sean has somebody to talk to.”  Then, she winked at me.  I smiled at her.

“Would you like to stay for dinner, Jeremy?” she asked.  Without thinking, I blurted out, “Yes!  That would be great.” And she smiled back at me.

To be continued!



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