Saved [boyxboy]

Chapter 2: The Memorial

I have no idea why Mrs. Wiltshire asked me to speak at Declan’s memorial. I’ve been back here almost a month and have seen her, but there are other people who could have spoken. We kept in touch for some time after I moved away but like one of those relationships, we just…stopped communicating.

Being back in this house felt so…weird. I could almost feel Declan’s presence. I moved through the house greeting old friends and family of Declan’s before I met up with his parents.

Don and Debra had always embraced me like a second son. Like my Mom was of me, they were so kind and affectionate and so supportive of Declan, of his homosexuality and of our relationship. They hadn’t changed a bit. Don was still tall and statuesque and Barbara still had that endearing regality about her. They seemed to be doing okay, aside from the random bouts of sadness from missing Declan. Something I knew all too well.

I excused myself to go use the restroom. Remembering exactly where to go, I walked up the stairs and walked down the hallway. I noticed the closed doors and looked between them. On the left was the bathroom and directly opposite was Declan’s room. I slowed my pace. My mind told me turn left but my mind and probably my heart forced my body to move toward and stop at the door on the right.

The door was as I left it two years ago: littered with “danger” and “do not enter” signs. I chuckled to myself, thinking back to how un-Declan-like the door and his room were. I passed my hand along the door, watching as my hand came not only to rest briefly on the doorknob, but turn it. I swung the door open and the familiarity came rushing back to me as I stepped inside.

Nothing was out of place. Declan’s favourite sweatshirt hung on his closet door. His bed was neatly made in his Batman sheet. I smiled seeing the black sheet with its one yellow symbol dead center and got a bit jealous. The debate of who the better superhero was between Batman and Superman was a hot topic for us. His books were piled neatly on his desk, the wall above and around it littered with pictures of us, his family and our friends. The window and curtains were was open, allowing a light breeze and a soft glow of light to enter the room. I made my way slowly around the room, lightly touching tangible memories.

“Funny how much it hasn’t changed at all, right?” I jumped at the voice behind me, a voice I recognized and remembered all too well. I turned around to chastise him for scaring me, but the boy I saw was not who I remembered him to be.

It really is amazing to see just how much a difference of two years can change someone. Caleb Hastings had grown from a boy into a man. His messy mop of hair was now trimmed and cut into a sophisticated style fit for a seventeen year old. His height shot up what seemed like a foot, so much that he almost towered over me, and I’m five foot nine. His acne prone skin was now acne free and black studs adorned his earlobes. He came into the room ducking his head, emphasizing his height. He walked over to me. “Jason Wheeler.”

I seemed to have lost all thought and word patterns, much less the power of speech. “C-C-Caleb?” I stammered.

“Don’t sound so shocked,” he said and smiled at me. His braces were gone, showing off his straightened rows of teeth. He laughed and moved in to hug me. Hugging him through his suit, I could feel that his baby fat had melted off and left him with a lean figure. “After all, I wasn’t the one who left me alone for two years,” he said, releasing me. I guess I should explain.