Contents

Finally Time

"Greg, don't!"

The first one I actually remember was my fifth birthday. We still lived in a tiny house and my bedroom was right off the front hallway. The knock didn't even wake me up, my mom's voice did. I'd never heard her sound scared or do anything close to yell, especially at my dad. Immediately terrified, I lay frozen in bed, eyes glued to my door, my parents just on the other side. I heard my dad throw, really throw, open the front door of the house. It smacked into my bedroom wall.

"There's no one there," my dad said. "It's just kids or something, pulling a prank."

"Just on his birthday? Always at midnight?" My mom sounded more afraid, not less. "He's only five. Who pulls a prank on a five-year-old?"

Birthdays after that, they went out of their way to get me in bed early, keep me away from the front door, do anything they could think of. My sixth we had a "sleepover" in their bedroom, built a big blanket fort, they let me have a friend stay over. When the knock came at midnight, they made the mistake of trying to ignore it. So it kept happening until we were all awake. My dad went off to the front door, came back in a huff. "It was no one, go back to sleep, boys." My friend slept. I stayed up listening to my parents whisper-argue in the kitchen.

We moved that year. But on my seventh birthday, the knock found us. Right at midnight, as usual. For my eighth, they took me to Disney World. I think they really thought it wouldn't follow us. They were both asleep. I made it to our hotel room door first, before my father yanked me away so hard he sprained my wrist. He's still apologetic about it to this day.

As I hit my teen years (or as they hit me), the dreams started. I didn't connect them at the time, of course; there was no reason to. My sexuality was waking up, so it seemed perfectly normal I'd be dreaming about a tall, dark, handsome, slightly scary magic man who fought off monsters to rescue me. (Doesn't every gay boy?) It took a few years for me to figure out that the dreams only happened in the couple months leading up to my birthday. And stopped immediately after. After the knock. 

My parents never let me answer the door. And especially by the time I was 15, 16, I would not let them try to pretend it wasn't happening. We fought. We cried. It scared us all, but I knew whatever it was, it was my thing. It was about me, and it was mine to deal with. Of course they saw nothing when they opened the door; I was supposed to answer! On my sixteenth my mother actually locked me in my room. She's still apologetic about it to this day.

The dreams continued and intensified. The Man and I got to know each other. I became his apprentice, went through training, studied, learning weapons, learning spells. And we'd fight monsters side by side. Nothing sexual ever happened, but I loved him. I still lived my life outside the dreams. I fell in love with real boys, had boyfriends, had sex, but I loved that handsome magic man. I couldn't help it. (What gay boy could?)

My parents and I have a fine relationship. We've only ever fought around my birthdays, even if those fights get more intense each year. Last year, my nineteenth, they were outside my dorm at 8AM, standing by the car. I had classes that day, but they didn't care. They were smart. They knew I wouldn't want an embarrassing scene in the middle of campus. I got in the car, and they took me home for the day. We all stayed up, after cake, after favorite family movies that none of us laughed at or enjoyed. As midnight approached, we sat around the kitchen table, unable to even look at each other. My dad let me have a beer. He had about eight. At midnight we executed the old ritual. Dad went to the door, a little more wobbly than usual, Mom stayed behind to guard me. Maybe the beer made me bold. When I heard my dad open the front door, I jumped up. I actually pushed my poor mom - I'm still apologetic about it - and ran for the door, just to see.

"Greg!" my mom cried to my dad in warning.

My dad was turning, slamming the door as he saw me coming. They still had no idea what all of this was about; they just knew, or felt, they had to keep me from it. As the door closed, I thought I saw something there. Someone. Someone I recognized...

Tonight I turn twenty. Officially at 11:59PM according to my birth certificate, but I've suspected for a while now that I was really born on the first stroke of 12:00. The Man and I have been training for the last couple months, but this year for a very different kind of magic. I don't like having to trick my parents, but I also know now I have a destiny. And while I understand their fear and their desire to keep me from it, it's not their right to do so anymore. 

My current boyfriend (in real life) looks a lot like me. Same height, same hair, same build. I've told him all I want for my birthday is help running a little prank on my parents. I've told them I can't leave campus because I've got a big test, blah blah blah. But that my dad can sleep on the floor of the dorm room since I know he'll want to be with me. My mom went along with it. She didn't even ask to be there. I have a feeling she suspects something, and maybe even understands more than she's told me. Anyway, I threw a bit of a party and helped my dad, let's say, relive his old college days. When I said at 11:30 that I had to go to the bathroom, he was sober enough to know he should walk there with me, but drunk enough not to realize he wasn't wearing his glasses (which I'd hidden anyway). We did the switcheroo in one of the stalls, and my very similar boyfriend walked my pretty dang drunk dad back to the dorm room to go to sleep. While I went alone to my boyfriend's room. To wait at the door.

I don't know exactly where we're going when He gets here. But I know He's prepared me well for it. I know my love for Him is not like a boyfriend, and it's not like a parent. But it's strong and it's real.

And it's finally time.

There's the knock.