Real Boys
Excerpted

As I drove he guided me to the park he called his thinking space, hidden out under a blanket of starless darkness on the side of a narrow road. We got out of the car and hiked up a little ways before coming to a plateau, where he gave me the choice to keep going or stay. I wrapped my arms fully around his skinny torso and looked him in the eyes. He was so tall. I kissed his lips, and he was paralyzed. When I drew back slightly his lips stayed apart, mouth agape, closed eyes frozen in place. I kissed him from the chin all the way up to his ear, and holding him close I could feel the tall boy’s knees tremble.

In between our bodies, I felt something move, pushing lightly against me as if trying to break free. Startled, I pulled back slowly. We both looked down and saw a small bat, wings withdrawn, resting on the nook between the two of us. Surprised, I took a couple of steps back, trying to stay standing on the wet grass. The bat opened its wings, expanding to four times its size, then flew straight up to a few feet above us. AJ and I looked up to where the animal seemed to hover for a second, and I realize it was spinning in small circles around us. “Have you ever seen something like this?” I asked AJ. He shook his head and pointed to the bat suddenly dropping to the ground. I lost it for a second but quickly spotted it slowly flapping its wings near my thighs, still circling us.

I tried to catch it, but it was too dark to see clearly, and the bat seemed perfectly capable to evade me. That’s when it started flying away, up and down, gradually, playfully inviting us to follow it. I obliged and pulled AJ by the hand to the rocks a few feet away from where stood. The bat landed on a relatively flat slab and quietly waited for me to come over. I giggled a little, and AJ was all smiles. As I reached to touch it, the furry creature started crawling with its winged limbs, one at a time, to the other side of the rock. I sat down and watched it cross from the top surface down the side of the rock. Leaning over to inspect it, the bat seemed to be gone.

“Maybe it flew away,” AJ suggested, but that made me sad. It was dark and cloudy, so maybe I could have missed the bat’s flight, but surely I would have heard it. I decided to get up from the rock to search around, but as I stood and felt the whole slab move beneath me, floating a fraction of an inch away. AJ and I looked at each other having no idea what had just happened. As he got up, it happened again. “Here, stand on that side and help me push this.”

I bit my lip and brimmed with excitement to see the rock move. Under it, a pond of glinting, moving waters appeared. The rock was just big enough to cover it, and we pushed it aside completely with ease. “Do you hear that?” AJ asked me. I looked away, quietly trying to focus. “Hear what?” I asked. “Seriously,” he cocked an eyebrow, “you can’t hear this?” He said it was the most beautiful melody he ever heard, dozens of chords dancing through each other. I heard nothing but the quiet swishing of the water. He smiled with a big open mouth and put his ear to the ground, getting closer to the music coming from the hole in the ground.

AJ was nodded his head slowly as he gently shut his eyes. He lay on the grass, flat on his back, biting his bottom lip and smiling. When I examined the water more closely, I thought I saw the bat swimming in it. I reached into the clear water, but to my surprise it was dense, and it felt like a strong current ran just beneath the surface. I cupped my hands, fetched some of the pellucid water, and took a big gulp.

Not much after I had swallowed, AJ sat up and put his face in his hands. “Are you ok?” He gave me no answer. I sat beside him and put an arm around his shoulders. “What’s going on? Is everything ok?” He said, “Yeah, just give me a minute.” I waited, looking. He had been very quiet listening to the music, and I thought he just needed time to process what was happening. He sighed, haltingly uncovering his face, and told me, “I just had something of a stroke.”

I did a double take and tried to find his eyes, unsuccessfully. “What!? Do we need to go to a hospital? What’s happening?” Casually, he also tells me he can’t see out of his right eye. “I hate that you had to find out this way.”

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” I demanded. “I was born with a condition; my mom passed it down to me genetically. I go to the hospital about once a month. I’ve had thousands of these episodes.” I sighed. I wanted to believe him. What do you say to something like this. “I’m in a lot of pain. I can’t see out of my right eye.”  I asked again to take him to see a doctor; he refused. He said he knows when he needs to go to the hospital. “I’m in the Make-A-Wish program, but I haven’t used it because I wanna be optimistic.” He paused. “That’s part of the reason I’m hesitant to let anyone get close to me. If I die… that would really suck.” He paused again. “But I will use the wish one day. I will. I’m thinking Disney.”

“Okay, Hazel Grace,” I said, smirking. He laughed. “Look,” he demanded, looking up, “it’s the Little Dipper.” The clouds had parted enough to reveal some stars. “Optimism! Now, where’s the big one?” He nudged me lightly with his elbow and covered his right eye. “Help me find the Big Dipper!” I smiled and asked, “You wanna start heading home?”
I started slowly ahead of him while he hobbled behind me towards the car. On the ride back to his apartment, I barely said anything, and neither did he. I kept trying to steal a glance at his phone to see who he was texting. “My friend is coming over in 20 minutes to help me,” he announced. I looked at the passenger seat for a moment, “I can help.” “No, you don’t need to. I’m okay.” I asked him what his friend was going to do that I couldn’t. “This friend is a very strong individual. He’s seen me have these episodes hundreds of times over the years.”  I nod. “My roommate was already in his pajamas. He’s coming down to help me come up.” I pulled up to his place and parked. “I can help you up there.” He said he’d be okay. “Let me just see if I can stand up,” he said getting out of the car, “Yep, I can walk. Thanks for tonight. I’ll keep in touch with this,” he pointed to his cell phone.

Ater he closed the passenger door, I was blinded. I sank in my seat and lost my ability to feel. In the distance, I heard chattery whispers and laughs. I don’t know how much longer it was until I got out of the car. I went around kicking the tires looking for a flat, then drove home as fast as I could.It happened yesterday, but it feels like so much longer ago. Not like the burning pain that subsides slowly or the terrifying sadness that you very gradually become used to, this shivering cold emptiness feels familiar and constant, like I’ll still cry about it when I’m no longer young.