A Christmas Saint
I remember that night when first love ran my life and every inch of me electrified. Christmas was one of the happiest times and one of the saddest. Perry Saint was everything but what his last name implied. To be a saint you had to be a pure hearted Christian. Perry was Christian, but the only praying he ever did was when he was twelve and his Christmas list was pinned up on his wall above his pillow. Perry was the most corrupted person I knew. That was hard to admit seeing as he was also the kindest.
When we were sixteen the Christmas of our sophomore year in high school had so much drama, a TV show could run for a successful five seasons. If in between the fillers were drug infested and sex driven, none of which we were experienced in. I didn’t plan to become one of those pot smoking basket cases that snuck behind the school to get high and waste away. No. Me, Ivan Samuels was going to be a mathematician. Even as I said it I felt that I had aged twenty years.
“Your sixteen going on thirty,” I imagined Perry would say shuffling about when he sat for too long. He was diagnosed with mild ADHD when he was in the first grade.
“My teacher didn’t want to put up with me, that’s why I got tested,” he told me when we were old enough to know what the disease really meant. You’d be seen as “special” for the rest of your life. And when we meant “special” we meant everyone would assume that things had to be spelled out so slowly. Yet Perry was beyond smart, sometimes he put me to shame.
The night I told Perry, the guy of my dreams I was in love with him, I’d been outside of his house, rehearsing. Planning every step of my life so I wouldn’t make mistakes was what got me through most of my anxiety.
“Perry,” I began. The lights strung on his fence gave me comfort. This was Christmas. Wasn’t it supposed to be a time of miracles and a time where you were bound to get what you wanted? “I know you’re probably obsessed with so many girls at school, but I want you to be obsessed with me. No that makes me sound like I want a stalker, not a boyfriend.”
I looked through the round window at tip of the three story house. An attic loft was the kind of room he had always wanted and he had a way to make even his parents bend at will to what he wanted. His silhouette of him dressing made my stomach churn. I’d definitely throw up before I get a word in.
“Okay,” I said, looking away keeping the thought of him out of my brain. “Perry, when I’m with you the world around me goes silent. It kills me when you laugh and milk comes out of your nose. I hate it when you let me win at basketball when you know I’d cream you in soccer. Before you I’d never wanted something for Christmas so much more in my life. I love you, and I hope you love me too.”
It sounded more like a proposal, but if I overthought it, I’d never be able to say anything.
“It's a little depressing to be sent to the loony bin on Christmas,” Perry had managed to brush his sandy hair enough to be called clean. He was wearing a brown jacket and navy blue t-shirt. The tie was lost on him. It choked him and he liked air a lot. He didn’t wear slacks, but jeans and sneakers. My blue jacket looked more dressed up then his down. I didn’t care. I wasn’t there to compare our outfits. I was there to tell Perry that I’d rather be more than friends.
His gate squeaked when he opened it to come on to the other side.
“I can’t believe it’s Christmas already and freezing,” his hands gravitated into his pockets. Normally winter was sustainable in New England, but it had been too cold to stand outside for too long. The clock tower chimed in the distance. “Midnight, time for gifts.”
Perry pulled out a small present from his pocket. The wrapping was a bit messy, but he did it. When I got passed the pounds of tape, I opened the top of the box and there was a chocolate inside, sitting on top of green tissue paper.
“Chocolate,” I didn’t know why I sounded disappointed. What had we ever given each other that was extravagant? The used GI’s when we were twelve, the crappy house drawings when we were eight. Back then I loved all of them. Why was now different? Because I was expecting more.
“It’s a kiss,” he said.
“That I know.” The Hershey’s kiss was left untouched.
He moved closer, the snow crunched under his sneakers. “No,” his hands came to my waist and when my hands came to his chest I felt his heart beating. It kept beating when he brought his face closer. “Your gift is a kiss.”
He kissed me slowly. At first it was a simple kiss. One that I could chuck it off as just a moment or a one off, but then both of our lips spread and the level of fierceness our tongues had made it…incredible. He took deep breaths within those few moments that we were connected. He pulled away and I found my body moving forward wanting more.
“I needed to do that before…” he was out of breath.
“Before what,” I asked a bit confused at his tone of voice.
“Ahh,” he screamed, his chest popped forward and he fell to his knees.
“Perry!” I fell with him. “Perry!”
In those seconds my world went black. Perry was never good at keeping secrets and I hated that he waited until his Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy—whatever that heart disease is that big shot athletes tend to get—to kiss me.
The Christmas’ seemed to get colder after that year. My mom has to keep reminding me to visit his grave. To bring the forget me knots he loved so much. Life is too hard. There are too many sad memories, but when I think about the happy ones I remember that life is good too. I’m not ready to dive off a bridge just yet. I’ve only just celebrated my thirtieth birthday. My hair is as dark as it had always been, it’s just longer.
I know he’d want me to be happy. He’d want me to live the life I deserve to live.
“There must be a funeral going on, I couldn’t find parking anywhere,” Perry slid his fingers in between mine and laughed. “Mrs. Browning keeps staring at us.”
“Do you think she’d ever get used to seeing us like this?” Perry kissed my wedding band.
“Probably not.”
“Hello boys,” Mrs. Browning waved, forcing a smile.
“Hi, Mrs. Browning how’s your husband,” Perry snickered. Mrs. Browning limped away. She was old fashioned, had a fit when my mom told her Perry and I were getting married and she was invited. We never moved out of our home town. We never moved on from each other. We had our bumps. During the time Perry was in the hospital, he was ready to give up. Then we’d remember that Christmas kiss.
“She’s probably thinking you’re trying to steal her husband.”
“Why would I want hers when I have one of my own?” He kissed me and like the first time fourteen years ago, it was amazing. His heart is still a bit weak, but I’m not planning to lose him anytime soon.
“Where are the flowers,” I asked.
He reached behind him. “They didn’t have many. I was able to get one. Maybe your dad won’t mind so much.”
My dad had died a few months before I was born.
I grabbed the flower from his hand and placed it on the snow below my dad’s headstone. “He knows everything now.” I looked up at him. His green eyes, my god I’ve never seen them misty like now.
I’m lucky, was all I could think. This was my life. My life as Ivan Samuels-Saint
The world scares me. I can’t even step a foot outside of our apartment. It isn’t so much the people that scares me, it's the fact that the last time I was outside I wound up in a chair. It took four months of intensive physical therapy to get me out of it and another three weeks to get me off the crutches. Mom sends a tutor every day. I’m not smart and I’d never claim to be. But if I were to ever make it through the threshold I’d like to have my degree.
Whenever I want to add on to my tattoos I get my best friend Lee to do it for me. I cut my own hair. I know the way I like it. Spiked in the front and flat in the back.
At noon I sit at the bay window in the living room and watch the guy from across the street run toward central park. In the time it takes him to get back I’ve already eaten two bowls of cereal and watched an episode of Law and Order: SVU. Mom brings over groceries each time I run out and I try to stop her from convincing me to go out. Whether it’s on a date or just to the stoop, she didn’t care. As long as I was breathing real air. I was doing fine with the air I can get from my opened window.
When boynextdoor gets back he’s got his tt-shirt stuffed into one of the pockets of his running shorts. He’s glistening. The sweat practically building his form—accentuating every muscle. He checks the mail and runs another four flights of stairs to the apartment across from mine. I don’t know his name or his exact age. All I know is that each day he waves at me from his window and I wave back. And every night I dream that he’s lying in my bed by me. We don’t have sex. We just lay there. He’s looking at me with his kind blue eyes and lets me mess with his perfectly combed auburn hair.
It's as close to human contact I've had.
The next day there’s a knock at my door. It’s the super, carrying a box marked with my name on it. Emmett.
“I told you no pets,” he yells in a course voice. Those rules don’t exactly apply to him because he has two dogs and parrot that I hear singing in Spanish.
“It’s my mothers. She wanted me to take care of it for a few days.” I lie as he hands me the box. “She’ll be by tomorrow to pick it up.”
I close the door and pop open the top. The tiger colored cat tries to make climb up the sides, but can’t manage. I pick her up and find an envelope underneath her.
The cat’s name is Katie. She’s a bit of a shut-in like you. She loves to cuddle and has kicked my ass in chess a few times. I thought you could borrow her for a few days to keep you company. – Your window buddy, Toby.
I hold her and walk over to the window. Toby’s outside, stretching for his run. He looks up at me and nods for me to join him, but I simply wave no. If I don’t make it out of this apartment I’m sure I’m gonna die a virgin.
The next few days I spent them with Katie. Wondering exactly how a cat beat Toby in chess. Now only realizing he wasn’t serious. And I continue to watch Toby. Each day he invites me to join him and each time I decline. But the more I watch the sun rise and set, the more I see people walking the streets I fight with both my sides. The side that tells me being run over by a car was pure coincidence and the part that tells me it can happen again.
One wins. And I finally go to the grocery store on my own.
I check the mail and open the door. Katie dashes out by my feet and now I’m bumping into people running after her. I’d never thought I’d run again, let alone be outside. But I was and it felt like me.
I stop halfway 5th avenue.
“She’s escaped on me a few times too.” Toby pets her between her ears. She purrs softly. “I’m glad to see she finally got you out.”
“Do I have to give her back?” I ask instead of thanking him.
“How ‘bout we talk about joint custody? It’ll give me a reason to see you now. Outside of your apartment.”
We stand there in the middle of the sidewalk, talking about who was going to get her the weekends and on holidays. Then Toby asks me out and I don’t wave him away.
In all of my eighteen years, I never drank coffee. Stayed away from it for as long as I could. Mom used to tell me it’d make me sterile if I touched it. By fourteen I knew it was just a ploy to keep me from bouncing off the walls, but as a safety precaution I stayed away.
Late night cramming sessions with the boys had me downing three every two hours. Who was it that designated me the Raven’s personal tutor? That’s right it was my backstabbing best friend, Andrew. He’d been supplying me with coffee from the Bean since I said yes to his request. His teammates needed help in American Lit and it just so happened that Andrew had a best friend who knew the best cheats.
Now don’t get me wrong. I’d never cheat on a test—an important test. I’d just give them my secrets. The way I managed to spill out A’s upon A’s only studying for an hour.
I’d planned to stick around for five session’s tops. But here I was nine sessions later, staring at my watch wondering why everyone was running late. I hated being at school this late. It gave me the heebie-jeebies. Too many scenarios going on through my head about walking down the hall and seeing that grudge girl sneaking up behind me to kill me. That’s why I couldn’t spend a night at the hospital after mom gave birth to Candy.
The message scrawled on the foam coffee cup didn’t make sense. “Hope your day gets better :)”. What was that supposed to mean? I wasn’t out of sorts for so long. The last time I was out of it was after I found out that Perry dumped me for some guy at Carlton University. I was too young, too immature. We were the same age. He could have just simply said he wanted to bone. My celibacy had nothing to do with faith or anything like that. I just didn’t like to be pressured into something that I wasn’t ready for. He should have known that.
But I guess Perry only truly thought with his little head versus his brain.
That was weeks ago. I was over it. Andrew didn’t need to cheer me up. God sometimes I swear he was the gay one with how much he wanted to set me up with guys. He should worry more about his girlfriend that what was going on with me.
“Where are these guys?” I heard the door clamp shut and stopped pacing. The jitters were hitting me hard.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Jay poked his head in first before stepping into the room.
“Where are the rest of the guys?” Jay wasn’t exactly the scholar of the lot, so I was surprised he made it and the others hadn’t come.
“Um,” he started, scratching a finger through spikes of black hair. “I told them not to come.”
“Why’d you do that?”
“Cause I wanted to talk to you alone.” I opened my mouth, but he stepped forward rubbing the back of his hands. “You got to let me get this out before I lose my nerve.”
I waved my hand for him to continue.
“I like you,” he spit out.
“Since when?” I didn’t even know Jay was an option. I loved how his skinny jeans fell a bit below his waist. He kept them up with a spiked belt. He wore combat boots almost every day except on the field. I loved that a rocker like him didn’t allow stereotypes to keep him from playing soccer because he loved the sport.
The zippers on his jacket and straps on his boots went off when he walked next to me.
“Since always.” He dared to put his hands up against my waist. “Drew told me you and Perry aren’t together anymore. Is this okay, Cory? I don’t want to step over any boundaries.”
I brought my hands to my own waist and twined my fingers with his. “I’m not much into boundaries, especially with you.”
I’d never realized how short I really was until he had to lean down to kiss me. I hate Andrew. His little notes about his plans were short enough that I wouldn’t think about stopping him. But I'm glad he did it.
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