More Than a Mortal

Representation

Sam Watkins had faked sick again to get out of school. He had decided not long ago that he would rather go to extreme lengths to pretend he was sick than face Garrett Mills and his lackeys. He sighed as he rested his head against the car window, his breath fogging up the glass. Why did high school have to be so hard? More importantly, he thought to himself, why do I have to be gay?

Since he was old enough to remember, he'd always known that he was interested in boys. And since he was old enough to remember, he'd always known that this was the last thing he should ever let anyone know about him.

"Honey, we've got to talk about this," his mother spoke softly as she drove along the busy street. She spared a glance at her son and saw the pain radiating off of him. It burned her deep inside, leaving behind the terrible ache of not being able to comfort him. She'd known for a long time now that her son was gay. His father hadn't come to terms with it yet.

"I'm fine," Sam lied. "Just ate something that didn't agree, that's all."

She pursed her lips and stared straight ahead at the line of traffic. "If there's something you need from me, Sam. I want you to know that I will do everything I can to give it to you." She paused and thought about her words, trying to find the right ones. Her only child meant so much to her, and she wanted for him what she felt any parent should want: his happiness and his safety.

"Mom," Sam sighed. "I'm fine."

She reached out and took his hand in hers. The car came to a stop at the red light and she looked at him. Feeling the weight of her stare on him, he slowly turned to look at her. That was when he saw the tears in her eyes. "Sam, I want you to know that I love you. And not just the person you show the world. There's another person underneath that. I see him. And I love him too."

Sam couldn't form words. He felt like he was watching this happen from somewhere distant. He met his mom's gaze and couldn't help himself. The tears came as he began to shakily talk to her. Really talk to her. "Mom, I'm gay," he whispered.

She stared at him as he spoke, his tone made it sound as if he had just told her he'd killed someone. Shame was so thick in his voice that it broke her heart.

"And I'm scared," he confessed. "That I'll never matter or count for anything. That the world would be better off if I was invisible."

"Oh, no," she said, openly weeping now. "No, that's not true at all, Sam. The world needs you. It needs your spirit and your smile. It needs the man you're going to become."

Sam scoffed. 'I'm not going to be the type of man I'm supposed to be."

She shook her head. "Oh, you mean like Garrett Mills?"

Sam looked at her in surprise. "You know about him?"

"Yes. I know all about Garrett Mills and his followers. I saw them picking on you one afternoon when I was picking you up after school. I never said anything because I didn't know what to say and I didn't know if you were ready to talk to me." She paused and smiled brightly. "But you listen to me, Sam: boys like Garrett Mills and his friends grow up to be the sort of men the world doesn't need."

Sam's response was cut off when an armored van suddenly ran the red light and slammed into a fire hydrant, spewing a geyser of water up into the air. Before anyone could react, a group of men jumped out of the van. They were each dressed in black with balaclavas hiding their faces and guns in their hands.

"That fucker burned our tires!" one of the men shouted as he reached into the truck and yanked out a duffel bag. Several dollar bills fell out of it and onto the street.