Something About Us

TWELVE

TWELVE

        The year was two thousand and eight and unbeknownst to the Tramblay family, everything they ever believed was on the verge of being challenged. All because of their twelve year old son, TJ.
  
      That July was a real summer, something TJ found highly annoying. The temperatures blazed high up in the twenties and even burned into the mid-thirties and beyond. He found it strange that Americans believed Canadians didn't get scorching summers. Fortunately, TJ's father Jules had taken his family all the way up to cottage country in Muskoka for a week of camping. The weather up North felt fairer compared to the blazing heat of the city.

         On the last night there, TJ and his father remained awake while the rest of the family dozed. They even saw when the park rangers drove by in their jeep at eleven o'clock, making sure that the residents weren't doing anything to irritate the rest of the campers like talking loudly and playing music.

        Jules and TJ watched the campfire from fold out chairs and talked leisurely. TJ watched as the tips of the flames melted into the air and gave off bright embers that flittered about like the fireflies above the tops of the trees. Jule's wife, his two other sons and his two daughters slept soundlessly.

       "Can I have a beer?" TJ asked with a smirk, eying his Jules' frosty can.

       "Absolutely not! You're twelve!" Jules howled.

       TJ flicked his eyes up to the sky and found he couldn't tear his eyes away. It was so much clearer than in Mississauga. The sky looked like deep blue velvet speckled with millions of pieces of crushed glass. "You let me have a little wine on New Year's. And Grandpa Josef lets me have a little."

        Jules sighed. "New Year's is special. And besides, Grandpa Josef is German; beer is a part of his culture. You should go to bed soon. We have to wake up early if we want to beat the traffic and get home by midday."

         "Dad, it's not like I have school tomorrow or anything. Jeez." TJ held his hands out by the fire and let the warmth envelope his hands. "Dad?"

          "Yes, son?"

          "Have you ever seen a shooting star?" TJ asked, letting his turquoise eyes meet his father's green ones. Aside from the colour they were shaped exactly the same.

            "Of course! Especially up here in Muskoka where the air is so clear," A warm breeze blew through Jules's brown curls. "If you watch the sky you'll probably see a few tonight."

            "A few?!" TJ cried incredulously. Jules laughed and nodded.

            "The earth is always being bombarded with rocks from outer space. With a sky this clear, you're going to see at least one." Jules replied. He picked up a stick that was next to his fold-out chair and nudged a log in the fire. It crumbled into bright orange embers.

             TJ turned his face to the sky and a dangerous thing happened then. With the eye contact between Jules severed, he felt a measure of openness wash over him. Thanks to the past conversations he had with Jules in this last hour and a half, TJ felt as though he could trust his father. There was something he had been mulling over for quite some time and now he felt that he could tell his father. Klaus and Ryan slept like two logs, and his mother, and two sisters Amelie and Junie had gone to bed two hours before. Surely they all slept now; out of earshot leaving Jules and TJ virtually alone.

            "Can I ask you something Dad?" TJ asked tentatively. He looked up in the sky, still waiting for the shooting star. He felt grateful he didn't have to look into his father's eyes for his next few sentences. He was afraid to see Jules' reaction.

            "Of course, son." Jules said a smile on his lips. TJ was probably his favourite son out of all of them. Even though TJ was Ryan's twin, Jules preferred TJ. TJ embodied every man's dream son. He was handsome, athletic, polite, popular (especially with the girls at his school!) and wildly intelligent. Klaus was far too rebellious and trouble-making while Ryan was too shy and introverted. TJ was the golden boy, the one who was always exempt from the rules. Jules prized his time with TJ.  He felt truly happy to speak with TJ.

            "Do you . . . do you ever feel this way; when you . . . you sort of believe that if you weren't supposed to do things, you wouldn't do them at all?" TJ asked, clearly conflicted. His shifted nervously in his chair and clenched his fists tightly, the nails digging into his palm. He told himself he would come right out with his feelings with his father, now he stalled and masked his emotions.

           Jules snickered. "What, like going to work?"

          TJ felt insecure then and feared correcting his father. He continued anyway. He brought it up anyway and felt like he needed to end it. "No . . . like girls."

           Jules furrowed his brows. TJ having girl problems? Who ever heard of that? Girls battled over him and he had a girlfriend waiting back for him in Mississauga. "So you don't like asking girls out? Does it make you nervous?" he said with a small smile.

          "No." TJ said. "Sometimes I feel like. . . If I didn't have to like girls I wouldn't like them at all." TJ said, each word becoming quieter and quieter until they faded into a mumble. Jules heard it all anyway.

           The air went perfectly still. Jules mulled the words over in his mind for half a second before he realized what his son was saying. A deep sense of dread gripped him and he felt conflicted. TJ didn't seem like the TJ he had been a few moments ago. Almost instantly, TJ broke down in Jules inward eye. He wasn't the star soccer player, the A student, the coveted boy; he was an abomination. Where did I go wrong in my parenting? What did I do to produce that? Jules wondered.

            Jules should love his son, but a sense of disgust had already begun to grow in him toward TJ. All of his sons were screwed up. Klaus had amounted to nothing, Ryan was a friendless loner and now TJ was –he could barely think of the word – ruined too?! Anger boiled his blood, turning his face bright red and hotter than the embers in the dying bonfire.

           Jules rose from his seat and grabbed a fistful of TJ's t-shirt. He smacked him as hard as he could, feel his ring crack against TJ's cheek. TJ looked up at his father with glassy turquoise eyes. Guilt crept on Jules and he let go of his son. Blood trickled down TJ's sun bronzed cheek.

            "Don't you ever repeat what you said to me. Not to anyone, ever." Jules whispered harshly and firmly. His throat locked as though tears were threatening, but he refused to cry in front of the mistake that stood before him encased in the body of a twelve year old boy.

            "Dad, I'm not-"

            "Shut up." Jules said. He stormed over to his tent and zipped it closed. He wiped his son's blood on his pants. He nestled himself next to his wife, who was still with sleep. He wondered if he needed to mention what had just occurred between TJ and him when she woke up. It was simply too horrible for words. He felt disgusted with TJ and he began to feel disgusted with himself, but he suppressed that.

            Outside of the tent, tears rolled down TJ's cheeks. He stood there – right there where his father had struck him – motionless. He wanted to tell his father that it was a joke, that he was lying, but there was no way he would believe him. He ran out and away from their campsite and ran down the gravelly road. In the darkness he stumbled and fell, scraping his hands on the cold gravel. He got up and kept going.

            He ran until he heard the sounds of the lake softly lapping on the shore. He tore off his sandals and collapsed onto the sand that was still warm from the summer sun. He cried loudly, gasping and heaving. When he cried himself empty, he turned his sore eyes up to the sky. He watched closely for a shooting star, hoping that it would signal better times to come.

           Not one came.