Haunted

*** 05. ….And Closure

It was finally something that one of my friends said that made me try to make a change in my life. He had called me to ask if I was interested in coming to a party with him.
“No, I don’t think so.” I said. “But thanks anyway.”
“You know what, Mark, you’re becoming tedious.” He said, his voice a little irritated on the line. “You’ve really got to get a life. You’ve got to get over him. What you need is closure.”

He knew about Donovan and at first he had sympathized, but as the years went by, he had become more and more impatient with me. And God knows, he was right. I did need some form of closure. If I continued on as I was, I would end up as a sad, lonely, bitter old man with dozens of cats.

So I decided that I would take steps to find some sort of end to my despair and loneliness. The solution was so simple, I was surprised that I’d never thought of it before. I made the reservation and the following weekend, I packed the car and drove out to the lake. I arrived at the cabin my family had stayed in and unpacked and settled myself in comfortably.

My idea was that I would visit the places that Donovan and I had frequented and say goodbye. I was hoping that being there after so many years would help me get over him. I knew it might be difficult because of the memories but I also knew that if I went about it correctly, it might just pull me out of my self imposed exile.

Obviously, the first thing I had on my list of places to visit was the boathouse.

I ambled slowly along the shoreline and soon the boathouse came into view. I stopped and studied it carefully. This was going to be tough, I thought, but I pulled myself together and moved towards it. I opened the door and the first thing I noticed was that the double doors leading out onto the lake were wide open. I also took note that there were no boats in the boathouse.

Someone must be out on the lake, I thought. I moved to the platform edge and stared down into the still dark water. Then slowly, I turned and looked at the spot where Donovan and I had first made love. I don’t know what I expected to see. The floor was bare with no sign of what had happened there.

“You’re being a fool,” I said softly to myself. “What did you expect?”

Then I heard it; the sound of oars grating in row-locks. I turned and watched as a row boat came into view and slowly made its way into the boathouse. The man in the boat, his back to me, maneuvered the boat in and settled it next to the wooden platform. He shipped the oars and got ready to step out. I recognized him immediately. The long loose pony tail and the baseball cap were unmistakable. This was the guy that had been watching me. I was stunned at the coincidence. I quietly stepped forward and waited as he started to get up. He did not know that I was there so I had the advantage.

“Why are you following me?” I said, suddenly, loudly.

The man in the boat jumped at the sound of my voice and swung around and looked up at me. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened with surprise and I stepped back in shock. Those deep violet eyes were unmistakable. Then he composed himself and turned away.
“Donovan?” I whispered.
“I saw your picture in the paper when you published your book and I just wanted to get a look at you.” He replied calmly. “What are you doing here?”

He looked up at me, his eyes sad. His face was covered by the full beard he had grown. That’s why I had not recognized him the first time I’d seen him outside my shop.
“I think the question we should be asking ourselves right now is: what the hell are you doing here?” I said softly.

“I live here now.” He said. “Have been for quite some time.” He continued to sit in the boat and I idly wondered why he wasn’t making any move to get out.
“You live here?” I said surprised. “Where?”
“In my folk’s old cabin.” He replied. “It was my father’s, you know. He owned it and now it’s mine.”

We stared at each-other in silence for a few moments. So much for closure, I thought.
“I called you, you know.” I said softly. “As soon as I got back to the city, I called you but the line had been disconnected.”

He nodded. “I know.” He whispered. “The accident . . my parents.”
“What accident?” I asked.

He took a deep breath and told me what had happened.

The family had left here minutes after our last meeting on the shore when we had lied to one another about loving each-other. His father was in a hurry to get back to the city and he had been careless. He had pulled out in front of an eighteen wheeler and their car been rammed and sent spinning across the highway. His parents were both killed instantly and he had been injured. A couple of weeks after the accident, he had ordered his father’s lawyer to close up their house and sell it. It was around this time that I arrived back in the city and I had obviously called just after the house had been closed up.

“I’m so sorry, Donovan.” I said. “I didn’t know.”

He nodded and stared at me from the boat.

“You look . . well.” He said with a small smile. “You haven’t changed much.”
“Just older.” I said. “As we all are. You’re a lot hairier than I remember.” I finished with a grin.
“Yeah.” He said and ran his hand through his beard. “I’ve been lazy.”

He stared at me for a moment and then turned away.
“I’ve missed you.” I whispered. “I thought I would never see you again.”

He looked back at me, his face grim.
“That’s how it should have been. How I planned it.” He said harshly. “You shouldn’t have come here. Go home, Mark.”

“How you planned it?” I asked stunned. “What are you talking about? I don’t understand.”
“You heard me.” He said. “I think it would be best if you left. Right now.”
“Why? I just got here.” I said confused. “And I’m so glad to see you. I would have thought that you might feel the same . . !”

He cut me off. “Well you thought wrong, didn’t you.” He said and looked away. “Please, just go now and leave me alone.”
Fury suddenly burst through me. I could not believe what he was saying. I loved him and as far as I knew, he had loved me.

“What the hell is going on here.” I said angrily. “You disappear off the map and ten years go by without a single word from you. Ten years!! Then you sneak around and spy on me! For ten years I’ve thought of no-one else but you. I put my fucking life on hold for you and now you have the nerve to send me away. Well, I’m not leaving until I get an honest answer from you. Why are you doing this?”

“Why?” He yelled. “Why? Well I’ll tell you why. No, in fact I’ll show you why. Enjoy the show.”

He lunged at the wooden dock and dragged himself out of the boat. He rolled over onto his knees and then stood up slowly. He took a few steps towards me and my heart went out to him. His left leg was practically useless. He walked with a very heavy limp, his leg dragging along the floor, the result of the accident that had killed his parents so long ago. He grabbed a walking stick that was leaning against the wall and stumbled towards me.

“Look at me, Mark, just take a good hard, close look at me! Is this what you want?” He raged. “Is this what you want to be saddled with? A cripple? I don’t think so.”
“Oh Donovan, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know . . !” I began.
“Don’t!” He growled. “Don’t you dare say another word. Just go away and leave me alone. I don’t need your pity.”

“I don’t pity you.” I said angrily. “I’m not so heartless as to do that. What I do feel is compassion. There is a vast difference, you know.”
“Pity, compassion, it’s all the same to me. It’s just semantics.” He said harshly.

His eyes bored into mine, angry and hopeless and I could see that he had resigned himself to his fate, and nothing I did or said would change that.
“Alright!” I said coldly. “If that’s how you feel, I’ll leave you alone.”

I turned to leave but then spun around to face him again.

“Wait, before I go, one last thing. Do you want to know why I came out here?” I said grimly. “Well, I’ll tell you. For closure. I came out here to try and get over you because for ten years I’ve thought of nothing else, and now thanks to you, I have that closure and I can leave here knowing that at least I tried. Oh, and you might think that I pity you? Well I don’t and I never will, but I should take a long hard look in a mirror if I were you. You reek of self-pity. Goodbye. Have a good life.”

I turned angrily and walked out of the door. I stormed up the shore away from the boathouse. Suddenly, I had to make a dash for the forest’s edge where I puked uncontrollably. Then the tears came and I started to cry, quiet gut wrenching sobs which tore at my heart. I loved him so much and he had pushed me away. I heard the door of the boathouse slam and I looked up. I calmed myself and from the cover of the trees, I watched as he hobbled his way along the shore towards his cabin. Then he stumbled clumsily and fell. He landed hard and rolled onto his side.

“Fuck!” He screamed and then he started to cry, great howling sobs which echoed off the trees. His anguish at his disability and his desperate loneliness tore at my soul. I wanted to rush out there and help him and comfort him but I knew that he would hate me for that, so I stood my ground.

He lay there, slamming his fists into the sand, his sobs coming in great heaving uncontrolled gasps as I watched him helplessly, tears streaming down my face. Finally, his cries diminished to quiet hiccups and then he slowly dragged himself to his feet and continued on up to his cabin. I stood there, confused, upset and heartbroken.

So I decided to try again, against my better judgment and even though it was not what he wanted. I could not leave him like this. I could not leave with such a dark cloud hanging over our heads. I slowly followed his footprints up to his cabin. The door was wide open and I gingerly stepped inside. He was sitting on a stool at an easel, paint brush in hand.

He didn’t hear me because he was still crying softly as he painted. I looked around the untidy room and almost gasped out loud in surprise. There were finished canvases everywhere; stacked against the walls, lying all over the floor and hanging on every available space on the wood paneling. I stood there stunned. Nearly every painting was of me at the age of eighteen, seen from different angles; portraits, head and shoulders, and a few full figure paintings.

He’d obviously painted them from memory and in his mind, I had not aged. I slowly walked to the middle of the room. He was so intent on what he was doing that he didn’t hear me. Over his shoulder, I could see that he was working on another portrait of me, but this time he was making me look older, as I was now. I stared at his back as he laid a stroke of paint on the canvas.

“I would have thought that the choice of whether I wanted to be with you or not, should have been mine to make and not yours, Donovan.” I said softly, gently. “You never even bothered to ask me.”
He dropped his brush and spun around on the stool to face me, surprised, speechless.
“So I’m going to pretend that you did ask me, okay?” I continued. “And now I’ll answer you.”

He kept silent, his violet eyes on me, tears still slowly running down his cheeks and into the hair of his beard.

“And I’m going to yell it out at you because I want you to hear every single word so that there can be no misunderstanding.” I paused and drew a deep breath. “I want to be with you whether you have two legs or none. I want to be with you because it’s you I love, not your legs or your arms or for that matter, your hairy face.” I shouted. “I love you, Donovan, you, the man. I love your spirit and your soul. I love your candor, your strength, your warmth and even your damn pig headedness.

That’s what defines you, not your damaged leg or your good looks or even your big dick. If you’d asked me just now in the boathouse; if you’d asked me a year ago, five years ago or even ten years ago, my answer would have been the same every time and there would have been no need for me to lie to you like I did the last time I saw you.” He smiled slightly at this. “Did you honestly think me so shallow that I would not love you or want you anymore because you have a limp?” I finished loudly.

He slowly stood up and took a couple of halting steps towards me.
“Are you done yelling?” He said.
“Yes, I’m done!” I shouted. He stared at me and then smiled slowly.

“I . . oh God I’ve missed you . . so much.” He said softly.
I looked around the room and smiled.
“Yes,” I said, “I can see that.”

He nodded and looked around.
“My life’s work.” He said shortly, indicating the cluttered room with a swing of his arm.
“Impressive!” I replied. “A bit repetitive and maybe a little obsessive, but certainly impressive.”

He grinned broadly and underneath the fuzz on his face, I could see the Donovan that I knew and loved. I stepped closer to him.

“Can I just say one more thing.” I said and he nodded. “If I’m going to be around, if we’re going to be together, if you want me; you have got to get rid of that beard. I can’t stand beards.”

He stared at me stunned and then burst out laughing. His warm gurgling laughter warmed my soul. I moved forward quickly, caught him up in my arms and as we held onto one another tightly, desperately; I knew that everything was going to be fine and good.