The Human Condition Ch. 01

"That's great," I said. Though honestly, the thought of actually wanting to spend time in a lab was as foreign to me as wanting to look at Pamela Lee's fake boobs.

"It's really nothing more than being a gopher," he protested modestly. "But it would look good on a med school application."

His tone was nonchalant. He didn't fool me. Med school be damned, he wanted the job for itself. I could see it in his eyes. The boy was right; he loved science.

We talked for a few minutes more and then Nurse Ratchet stuck her head in the door and told him his time was up. He stood up and we were both suddenly awkward about how we should say goodbye. We weren't exactly friends and yet we had just experienced an event that would bind us together forever. I would never forget it certainly and I was just as sure he wouldn't either.

"Well," I finally began but Joe stopped me when he put a hand to my shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze.

"Look," he said as if he had come to some kind of decision. "I'll stop by later to see how you're doing. Maybe you can get somebody to write down a list of any stuff you'll need while you're in here and I can fetch them for you."

"You don't have to do that," I protested.

He waved me off. "I want to. It's no big deal anyway, don't you live down the hall from me?"

I nodded surprised that he'd noticed. Once again it was like he read my thoughts or maybe it was that I didn't have as much of as a poker face as I thought.

He raised his arms in a, what can you say, gesture. "Like I told you, a freak of nature, a jock who pays attention."

"Nobody believes those stereotypes anymore," I said.

"Sure they do," he responded cheerfully. "And a lot of the times they'd be right. Lots of people are stereotypes."

I shook my head. "I don't agree."

"Whatever," he shrugged. "Be back." He turned and started to walk towards the door.

"Joe, wait," I called and he stopped and turned a question in his eyes. "Thanks again, for everything."

With a wave he was gone.

A few minutes later, Nurse Ratchet, who was really a very nice girl named Betsy O'Brien, came back into the room.

She sighed and leaned against the wall. "God he's cute! He looks just like a young Harrison Ford."

"Who?" I asked, though I knew very well because I'd just been thinking the same thing myself.

She raised an eyebrow and looked at me hard. "Yeah right," she finally said. She was being sarcastic but the twinkle in her eye softened the blow.

I took a better look at her. She was a student nurse; I realized now, probably only a year or two older than I was. And, she had very good gaydar. One look at her big gray eyes told me she knew exactly where my interests lay and it wasn't with a female nurse no matter how cute and curvy she happened to be.

"He doesn't know," I blurted.

Though, come to think of it, I wasn't sure about that. I was out, sort of, and I knew that some of the other guys on my floor knew as did my roommate, Carl.

Fortunately for me, he didn't give a damn as long as I kept my dirty socks on my side of the room. And it wasn't like I was planning on keeping it a secret from Joe either. I'd played that game before and had come to the conclusion that it was always the wrong way to go.
"Then tell him," Betsy bluntly intruded into my reverie. "If he's a good guy, he'll be cool with it, if not," she shrugged again, "then fuck him."

She saw the look of shock on my face and started to laugh. "Down boy, I didn't mean that literally," her face got serious. "My little brother is gay." She slowed her speech, picking her words carefully. "It hasn't always been easy for him. I feel bad about that."

She gave a shake of her head as if to say, enough, then pulled a pad of paper out of her pocket. "Okay," she said brightly. "The Football God said that you wanted to make a list?"

We made the list and she suggested I add my class schedule so Joe, or whatever girl he could con into doing it, could contact my professors and tell them where I'd be spending the next few weeks. Since the time included the Thanksgiving holidays it probably wouldn't be impossible for me to keep up if they'd agree to give me my assignments. Of course it would mean I wouldn't be going home for turkey but that was no great loss.

Joe did come back that night and most nights after that. He hauled my stuff to me including my textbooks and he made sure the University knew I hadn't fallen off the face of the earth. He even called my parents, which amazed me, and made my little brother's day when he answered the phone and got to talk to the hero himself.

The downside of all this was that I still hadn't told him I was gay and the longer I waited the more trouble I had trying to think of a way to broach the subject. It got to be such a big thing with me that I could barely stand the thought of seeing him again. So, where for a while there, I'd been pretty talkative, I reverted back to my initial form of silent communication of mostly nods and the occasional monosyllabic grunt when an oral answer was imperative.

To make the whole situation even more Machiavellian, he had finally noticed Betsy and started dating her, Jenny now being history, thank God. Even I could understand why he liked Betsy. Not only was she smart, funny and genuinely nice, she was a babe.

Medium tall, with a figure like a proverbial brick shithouse and legs that wouldn't quit, she had an elegant grace about her that was perfectly in sync with her dark gypsy looks and wild black hair that I saw hung down to her ass when I finally got a look at her without her paper cap. Hell, even I was attracted to her looks, though, of course, with an aesthetics' appreciation not a sexual one. Joe wasn't going to pass that up and I sympathized even though I didn't like it.

It wasn't that I was jealous, well not much anyway. I knew that my fantasies about Joe were just that. What really kept me in a constant state of fear was that Betsy would inadvertently let the cat out of the bag and let him know about my being gay, though she swore, and I believed her, that she would never tell him intentionally.

She still thought I should let him in on my little secret, mind you. Oh yes, she was adamant about it. Not, as she stated passionately, because it was such a bad thing, but because friends couldn't really be friends when they kept such life defining details from each other.

I couldn't deny she was right. Look at how I was acting. I wasn't sure why the guy kept coming back day after day except for the thought, and this really depressed me, that he was using me as an excuse to see Betsy. It didn't matter, I told myself. The idea of me staying friends with a guy like Joe was ludicrous, wasn't it?

But it did matter to me. See, I had this problem. Somewhere down the line I'd fallen for the guy: hook, line and sinker. The thought of losing all contact with him if he couldn't handle my being gay kept me up at nights. Of course, I kept trying to convince myself that he wasn't going to react that way.

Don't get me wrong, I had no illusions that he'd fall into my arms and say, I want you. Okay, so maybe the thought did cross my mind, but a guy can dream can't he? Nor was I worried he'd turn out to be some asshole homophobe. I wasn't that much of a rube; I knew how to spot that type right off the bat.

The thing I couldn't bear was the possibility that he'd turn out to be one of those guys who pretended they were cool with it but would immediately start acting like you'd become some kind of pod person. I'd had some experience with that kind and the thought of the man I loved turning into one of those cretins was not something I thought I could take.

And the sad truth was, I really was in love with him. What had started in the dorms as a nice little crush like you'd get on a rock star or a matinee idol had turned into a full-blown love affair for one. I was the one; he didn't have a clue.

I was so good at hiding my feelings that the poor guy was even starting to think he bugged me too much and that I didn't like him. Betsy told me that. She'd known it was going to hurt me. See, I wasn't the only one who was a little jealous.

Betsy, who had started out being as nice as pie, now seemed to consider me some kind of a threat. I had no idea why she felt this way; if there was one thing I was sure of, it was Joe's preference for women. That didn't seem to matter to her though. Betsy wasn't as willing to share Joe as she had been in the beginning of the relationship. Ironically, at the time, I was almost relieved because I was so uncomfortable with the secret I was keeping from him.

So, we were all unhappy. Now it was the day before the Thanksgiving break and Joe had come to say goodbye to both of us. Betsy had worked the afternoon shift and was just getting ready to catch a ride with some friends to her family's house in Grand Rapids. Joe was leaving the next day for his folks place on the outskirts of Chicago. His brother was going to be there too, down from Syracuse where he was in the Seminary. Joe was looking forward to seeing him, he'd been talking about it for days, but now he seemed reluctant to go.

He and Betsy had an awkward goodbye kiss in front of me and then, as she disappeared out the door, Joe excused himself and ran after her. When he came back he was smiling a little but the look faded when he glanced at me.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay here?" He asked with a frown as he sat in his usual chair by my bed.

I was from a small town outside Harrisburg, Pennsylvania almost eleven hours by car. There was no way my parents and three younger sibs could make that trip. We'd talked on the phone and I'd assured them that I'd be okay. My mom had cried, but I think the reality was we were all a little bit relieved that we'd be able to avoid a holiday reunion.

My family knew about my sexuality and they tried to accept it, they really did, but my father looked at me every time he saw me as if he was glad I wasn't wearing a dress and my mother was sure I was going to die of the dreaded disease that was just starting to be recognized by people in polite society. My brothers and sister were too young to be told, but too old to not realize something was weird, so all in all our little family get togethers were pretty depressing.

"I'm fine with it," I assured him.

He wasn't buying it. He loved his family and he didn't seem to be able to grasp the concept that all families weren't as much fun to be around as his own.

"If you want, I'll stay," he offered for the 59th time. The sweetest thing about it was I knew he meant it and would never have held it against me for a minute if I'd taken him up on it.

"Are you kidding," I tried to lighten up the moment, "it'll be a relief not to have to stare at your ugly face for a few days."

At that, his gorgeous face stiffened and the hurt in his eyes broke my heart. Leave it to you jackass, I mentally berated myself, to say exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time.

"Joe, wait," he hadn't moved but I could see he'd been poised for flight. With my words he warily settled back into his chair. "We need to talk, or rather, I need to."

"Well that'll be a change," he muttered.

"Yeah," I shrugged. "I know, I've been a real asshole lately..."

Joe grinned; he thought he knew where this conversation was leading. "Hey dude, it's okay," he talked so fast I couldn't find an opening to interrupt. "It must be the pits to be tied down like this. I'd go nuts..."

"Would you shut the fuck up for a minute and let me say something!" I was almost shouting and his jaw dropped in shock. "Jesus Christ, Joe, it's no wonder I never talk around you, you never let me get three words in. I do occasionally have something to say you know."

I stopped; I couldn't believe I'd let that out. For his part Joe was smiling again. He must have realized that I wasn't really pissed. I waited for more of a response but he just sat there grinning.

"Now what?" I said, have exasperated, half laughing.

"You want me to speak?" He said with a raise of his eyebrows. "I thought you just told me to shut up? Now you want me to say something?"

"What I said, was shut the fuck up and yes, now, I want you to say something," I tried to look stern but I could see I was failing by his reaction.

"And that would be?" Oh God, he had the best smile.
"Shit, I don't remember anymore," I groaned. It was now or never, I had to tell him.

"Listen, have you told your friends about our little adventure together?" I started. The change of subject surprised him. He looked at me with a puzzled expression.

"Sure, why not?"

"No reason, I just wondered if anybody had said anything when you told them."

"Not really, except a few did mention how unbelievably stupid you acted. Oh and it was mentioned that I was incredibly brave etc., etc."

"Cute," I grimaced.

"Why?" Joe asked.

Here goes, I thought and took a deep breath. "Because I thought maybe somebody might have called me a faggot or something."

Joe laughed. So, I thought, he already knew. I was weak for a relief for about two seconds until he spoke.

"Hell no, Jesus, dude why would you think that? Why would you care even if they did? It's just a word, something guys say all the time. It doesn't mean anything."

Oh shit. He didn't know. Didn't even have a clue. I was beginning to think for such a smart boy; Joe could really be a social retard sometimes.

"No," I replied carefully. "It isn't just a word. It means something. Especially when it's true."

Joe's big face went blank. Just like that the light went out in his eyes. Now, I thought grimly, now he knows.

"I'm gay Joe. I am a faggot," I wanted to make it perfectly clear.

"Yeah man, I got it," he stood abruptly and started to pace.

"I should have told you sooner," I felt like my heart was breaking.

"Yeah, you should have," Joe's voice was tight with some emotion I wasn't mature enough to recognize as pain.

"When we met, well, it just didn't enter into it and then I just assumed you knew or somebody would tell you..."

He groaned. "You mean everybody knew but me?" He turned and faced me. "Betsy, does Betsy know?"

"It was never a secret," I answered gently.

"Jesus Mike!" He ran his hand through his thick, dark gold hair. "You must have realized after a while..." He paced again then stopped and stared unseeingly out of the window. When he spoke again it was in a whisper and I had to strain to hear him. "You must have realized I didn't know!"

He was right of course. No amount of self-delusion had ever really convinced me that Joe was aware that I was gay. Even if he had been perfectly fine with it, he'd have mentioned it if he'd known. I couldn't think of anything to say to console him so I kept my mouth shut.

"Were you laughing at me?" He was still facing the window but his voice came out hard and strong. "Did you think it was funny that I was so stupid?"

"Oh my God no!"

I struggled to get out of the bed. I'd been mobile for some time but I was still stiff and sore and the effort made me groan. Joe turned and looked at me. For the first time since I'd known him he made no effort to help me. I made it to my feet and wrapped the sheet around me. With the burns located where they were, it was easier to not wear anything, but now I thought, was not a good time to go naked. I shuffled over to where he was standing but the look he gave me made me stop a good three feet from him.

"I would never laugh at you," I said. "I think you're a great guy and I can never begin to repay you for your quick thinking at the accident and all the friendship you've given me since."

He just continued to stare. For once he was the silent one and I was the one who couldn't shut up.

"I guess my only excuse is I was afraid you'd hate me if you knew the truth," I waited for a moment for a response. When I didn't get one I continued in a burst of self-pity. "I guess I was right to worry."
Now I got a response.

"Well isn't that just fucking great!" Joe turned from the window, his eyes blazing with anger. "Now let me get this straight Mike." His face took on a mocking look.

"Yeah, guess that's a poor choice of phrasing. But let's let that pass. What I'm hearing here is you're telling me all of this is my fault because you thought I'm just some redneck who could never understand? Jesus, if I'd known I was so transparent I would have gone ahead and gotten that swastika tattooed on my arm like I wanted to last Christmas."

"That is not what I meant," I tried to reach out and touch his arm in the way he had so often done to me but he wasn't having any of it and shrugged me off.

"Bullshit," he stared at me for a long moment and I had to force myself not to lower my eyes. "I don't care that you're gay, Mike." He continued in a soft deadly tone that told me that regardless of his words, he did care. "What bugs me is that you didn't trust me enough to tell me about it. And don't try and con me that there was never a right time, there were plenty and you know it. Shit, we talked about women we thought were hot!"

"You talked, I listened," I couldn't help myself.

Joe waived his hand dismissively. "You don't think maybe you could have said something then, you know like, 'Speaking of hot, what do you think of Mel Gibson?' Even a dumb jock like me might have gotten the reference."

"Never happen, I think he's overrated," I smiled, simply to keep myself from crying.

"Whatever," he turned back to stare out of the window.

We stayed where we were for a long time. I finally turned and hobbled back to the bed. As I sat down I heard Joe clear his throat and I turned to look at him. His back was still turned to me and his hands clenched the windowsill as if he needed it to keep him upright.

"You know, I really liked you," His voice was low and hoarse and I had to strain to hear him. "I've felt so alone since I've gotten here and I was hoping you and I could be friends. Before, there's always been my brother, but since he decided to become a priest... Well, it's different now."

"You're a lot like him. I mean, not physically, Josh and I are identical you know. But your personality is like his, quiet, strong, honest," he sighed. "Well, maybe not so honest. I thought I could trust you. And I thought you knew you could trust me."

"I am so sorry," I stopped, if I said anymore I was going to cry.

Joe turned; his blue eyes were rimmed in red. "Yeah buddy," he spoke softly. "So am I."

He walked quickly to the door and opened it, then turned and looked at me for what I was sure would be the last time. "See ya around," and he was gone.