Mikey and the Chickadee

Chapter 11 - Part 2

We didn't say much else about it until we had reached the seawall, parked, and begun walking east toward downtown. In the distance, shimmering, silvery greens and blues of countless glass condominium towers rose up suddenly, like a single cliff, over narrow beaches lining the water. A photograph of the day would have belied the cold, and I noticed Mikey's words were accompanied by tiny puffs of rapidly condensing air.

"Another thing that amazes me is how you knew yourself so well at sixteen."

"The more I've thought about that," I said, "the more I've decided that people must know themselves in very different ways. It just wasn't hard for me to recognize it about myself. It got to a point where it just wasn't a question anymore. I was never going to be with a girl. Beyond that, I do think I have my parents to thank for their welcoming attitude. It's not like that was ever a barrier for me."

"Yeah," said Mikey. "I wish I knew myself better in that way. In the way you know yourself, I mean."

I looked over at him.

"That thing you said about your mom sensing it in you," he continued. "It makes me wonder if a lot of parents have that kind of sense. Like, what if my parents..." he trailed off for a moment and looked briefly out at the water. "I was pretty young when my dad first talked to me about it. I remember it being after he had picked me up at Davie School, so I couldn't have been older than eleven. He, like, pulled the car over to be all dramatic—he was like that sometimes—and made me look him right in the eyes. 'Ke' and 'tut'—those are some of the Thai words for it...and I knew what they meant already when he used them that day. To be like that was the most horrible thing. It was dishonorable and disgusting and everything else like that."

His expression had turned sour and he seemed to hold himself back momentarily from continuing, so I said, "It's not fair that you were treated like that."

"What fucking eleven-year-old even knows who he is? My dad had some good qualities, but sometimes it's hard for me to remember him in a positive way."

"I think that's okay," I said. "You don't have to forget about the bad side of him."

"Maybe it would be better if I did. Just so I could pretend that he never even felt that way."

I smiled a little. "Maybe."

"As I think about it, my life just starts to sound like a big cliché. Still seeking my dead father's approval and all that. Is that really all this is?"

I hesitated and then said, "I don't think anything is that simple, but it sounds like that could be a part of it."

Mikey scowled and kicked his shoe into the surface of the dirt path. "Anyway, I think it's something I can get over if I really try."

"I bet you can."

"That whole internet history thing. Can you believe I've never even thought of that? I'm sure they found stuff once I got a little older. Porn, teen health forums, stuff like that. Fuck, I'm sure they knew. We never talked about it."

I paused. "Did you watch gay porn back then?"

"Well...yeah."

"Do you watch it now?"

He laughed. "Slow the fuck down, Sherlock. Yeah, I do. But I've only recently been able to acknowledge that I do. I'm a mess, I know."

"You're not a mess, Mikey."

"I know what it says about me. What it means—I know that now." He took another few steps and then gave my shoulder a tiny shove. "It's just, having you around...you're giving me a lot of reasons to want to acknowledge it. And to be okay with it."