First flight, p.13
First Flight, page 13
“You’re going to be sorry. You and that bird you trained to attack me. I’m gonna fix you.” The line went dead.
“Shit.” Jesse sighed and pressed the switch hook, frowning as the broken dial tone blatted at him. He started the process of checking the voicemail. “You said you ran into Kevin, today.”
“Yes.”
“Did you attack him?” The pleasant female voice informed him that there were fifteen new messages.
“Yes. Bad man.” Sings-like-water shifted from foot to foot. “Wanted hurt me.”
“Oh.” Jesse deleted the first message, which said You’ll be sorry. You’ll all be sorry. If you don’t come back, you’ll regret it. The second one, recorded a mere minute after the first one, was interrupted by the beep of the call-waiting signal. He braced himself and switched over. “Swanson residence.”
“Come back to me, Jesse.”
“No. You tried to do something to Chris again, and that doesn’t make me want to get back together with you.”
“Then you’ll regret it. You’ll all be sorry, and it’ll be all your fault.” The line went dead again.
Jesse sighed and went back to deleting voicemail messages. Kevin called back, over and over again, and each time the conversation went the same way.
“Hey, Mom.” Jesse waved as Leanna carried the mail into the living room.
“Hi, sweetie,” she said, sitting down on the other end of the couch. “How was your day?”
“Eh. Work was okay, but Chris called to say his family wanted to try to get along again, so would he mind coming back for a few days? So he went to see them. He wasn’t sure how long he was going to be gone, but at least the rest of the week. And Kevin’s still calling, although I’ve kind of slowed him down some.” Jesse held up a whistle. “If it’s him, I blow this instead of talking or listening to him. He doesn’t call as often as he has been.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, a thoughtful look on her face. “Well, I hope Chris can patch things up with his family. He seems like such a good person.”
“Me too. I miss him already, though.”
“This is absolutely the last straw,” Leanna said, as she left the phone off the hook. “Calls at all hours, none of our family can get through to us, and with Aunt Gillian in the hospital…. I am calling the police and the phone company first thing tomorrow morning.”
“You still know where this joker lives, right, Jesse?” Desmond glowered in his son’s direction.
“You’re not going to go assault him,” Leanna said, before Jesse could answer. “Because if you do, you will get arrested.”
“Yeah, I know where he lives, but Mom’s right,” Jesse said. He shook his head and sighed. “I’m really sorry about all of this. I didn’t know he’d act like this. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Desmond said, shrugging at him. “You keep telling him ‘go away’, and he keeps not listening.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Okay, so, there’s water and a snack for you, the window’s open, and I’ll come home at lunchtime.” Jesse looked around his room and shrugged. “I think that’s it, for now. If Kevin comes over, there’s not much you can do, so I guess just stay out of sight?”
“Yes!” Sings-like-water nodded vigorously. “Bad man.”
“Seriously annoying man, anyhow. Okay, I gotta get out of here. See you later.”
“Good day,” Sings-like-water said.
“Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
“Hi, Jess. Well, I’ve spent most of my morning either on the phone or running around, but the good news is that the phone company was ridiculously helpful. The other thing is that, um, I filed for a restraining order against Kevin. Once it’s official, he has to stay away from us and the house.”
“Yeah? Great. I got your text with our new number.” He shook his head. “I really didn’t mean for this to happen, Mom, I swear. I’m sorry.”
“I know. It just happened to be us, that’s all. It’s not your fault.”
“I kinda think it is, ’cause if I’d never, y’know, gone out with him….” Jesse sighed.
“Sweetie, you didn’t know. You’re not a hellion, or at least you haven’t been one since you were about three. If I thought you had planned this as some sort of elaborate revenge, that would be different.”
He laughed. “No! I can’t think of anything I want revenge for, at least not that involves you and Dad. Dad changed the rules already, and okay, so maybe I’m still a little miffed about the whole French fries thing. If I wanted to pay you back for that, I’d just, y’know, eat your fries. All of them. Without asking.”
“Good Lord, Jesse, that was ten years ago,” she said, but her voice was amused. “Besides, you already did that anyhow. At least once. Okay, I need to let you go so I can call your dad and so you can get back to work. Love you.”
“Love you too, Mom. Have a good day. Oh! I’m on my way home to have lunch and see if Chris sent me an e-mail or anything, just so you know.”
“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll try, you too. Bye.”
“Yeah. Bye.”
“I brought you something,” Jesse said, as he walked into his room.
“Jesse!” Sings-like-water hopped from the foot of the bed to Jesse’s shoulder and pushed his beak into Jesse’s hair.
“Hey there,” he said, putting the plates he carried on his desk. “I brought you some liver.”
“Liver!” The bird flitted over to the desk and eyed both the small heap of maroon chunks and Jesse’s sandwich. Sings-like-water stole a potato chip, then sidled around to the far edge of the plate that held his lunch. “Thank you.”
“Dork,” Jesse said, wrinkling his nose at the theft. “You’re welcome. How was your morning?”
“Good. Flew!” He broke the potato chip into smaller pieces, then ate one. “Saw… family. Liked to see me.”
“Yeah? Good, I’m glad they were happy to see you.” Jesse picked up his sandwich. “My family has always been—Even when I first told my parents, and my dad was really pissed off, he never threatened to throw me out. I’m so, so lucky, and I just want your family to be okay with you.”
Sings-like-water swallowed a piece of liver, trying to find the words to explain. “Family… confused. Say man, say not us, say how? But not say bad. Not… not say you wrong. Not say leave.”
Jesse nodded as he chewed, leaning forward and touching Sings-like-water’s head. “That’s awesome. Good.”
“Sis… sister has chosen,” Sings-like-water said, then had another chunk of liver.
“Oh? Cool. Do you know him? Is he a good, uh, guy?”
“Yes. Finds… Finds-mice-well. Can feed her. Make good nest.”
“I hope they’ll be happy together,” Jesse said, feeling a little weird.
“Yes.” Sings-like-water pushed meat across his plate, occasionally looking up at Jesse.
He helped himself to a couple of chips of his own. “Mom changed our phone number, this morning, and went to get a thing saying that Kevin can’t come around anymore.”
“Good! Bad man.” Sings-like-water made a dismissive noise, then ate another piece of his stolen potato chip.
Chapter Twenty
Bright-tail knew she was supposed to stay away from the big box-things, because they were where men lived and men were dangerous, like almost everything else that was bigger than she was. She could smell something good coming from this one, though. The magpie moved closer and closer and closer, until she was perched on the edge of the gutter.
The smell was coming from a dark opening on the side of the box. It was a food smell, rich blood and meaty. There was another smell, too, this one familiar, like her family, but not exactly the same. Bright-tail poked her beak into the white feathers of her belly, chasing a sudden tickle, then leaned over the edge to see what she could see.
Sings-like-water opened an eye and looked toward the window. Nothing there, save the same boring view of the same boring street. He was halfway to dozing again when there was a fluttering scrabbling sound at the window. A magpie! What was a magpie doing on the windowsill? “Hello.”
Bright-tail chirped in surprise and jumped backward, flapping back up to the gutter. There was someone inside! Someone who sounded like her, but still different. After a minute of carefully straightening her feathers, she returned to the sill. “Not food,” she said, just in case.
“I don’t want to eat you,” Sings-like-water said. What a strange idea! But then, magpies were known to be a little weird.
“No eat?” She looked at the raven, perched on a funny branch near the window. “Why here?”
“This is my nest, my home,” Sings-like-water said. He’d spent the empty hours of yesterday thinking about it, finally determining that his decision was correct: this was where he belonged.
“You nest here? Odd.” But then, everyone knew ravens were odd. “Where food?”
So that was why she was here. “Here,” he said, fluttering over to the desk. There were a few scraps of liver on his breakfast plate, and he pushed them into a pile with his bill. “Liver.”
“Liver!” Bright-tail hopped into the house and flapped over to the flat surface. Ravens were odd, but this one might not be so bad. “Want.”
“Eat,” Sings-like-water said, stepping back from the plate.
“Did you hear from Chris today?” Leanna said, as she passed the salad to Desmond.
“Yeah,” Jesse said, nodding. “He called me and said that things are actually going better than he was expecting, but he’s looking forward to coming back. It might be a couple more days, but at least everyone’s speaking to one another and when they do it’s positive.”
“Good,” Desmond said, passing the salad bowl along to Jesse. “Even if they make you crazy, your kids are still your kids.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Bright-tail settled on the peak of the roof and casually preened the underside of her right wing. After a minute or two, she nonchalantly walked down the slope to the gutter, where she perched and attended to her left wing. A quick look around and she dropped over the edge, her wings and tail curved and canted just-so to take her to the windowsill. “Hello!”
“Hello, not-food,” Sings-like-water said.
She flicked her tail in irritation. “Am Bright-tail!”
“I am Sings-like-water,” he said, turning his head this way and that, looking her over.
“Sings-watery,” Bright-tail said. “Liver?”
“No liver,” he said, moving over to the desk. “Eggs and toast.”
“Eggs!” She crouched to join him, then straightened up again. Ravens were odd and crafty. “Your eggs? Your nest, your eggs?”
“Food-eggs,” Sings-like-water said, nudging the plate that Jesse had left him. “Good.”
Well, that was different, then. As were the eggs—there were globs of yellow-white things on the plate, next to bits of brown things. Bright-tail glided across to the desk and tentatively poked at the nearest of the globs. “Eggs?”
“Yes. Scrammed.” That wasn’t quite the right word, but he’d been forgetting human words at a frightening rate. What if he forgot them all? What if he was never human again? What if he couldn’t talk to Jesse if he did turn into a human again? He shifted on the desktop, then flew back to perch on the head of Jesse’s bed.
“Sings-watery eggs bad?”
“Eggs good. Bright-tail eat.” He fluffed his feathers up, then began smoothing them into place, the routine soothing. Jesse would be home soon, and then he could try to tell him. Maybe Jesse could use the box on the desk—he closed his eyes and thought hard—the computer to help them both.
“Since they’re not that good for people, I bet they’re even worse for birds, so I only brought you two fried livers,” Jesse said, as he unpacked the bag he’d brought upstairs.
“Thank you.” Sings-like-water pulled the small package over and stood on it, then tore it open with his beak. It was a satisfying way to start lunch, but it didn’t last. “Jesse?”
“Hm?”
“Want human,” he said, abandoning his food and walking up Jesse’s arm. “Want now.” He pushed hair behind Jesse’s ear.
“I know,” Jesse said, after he’d swallowed his bite of sandwich. “I wish you were back to being human, too. We’ll figure it out, I promise.” Not that he had any idea how.
“Good.” He stood on Jesse’s shoulder for a couple of minutes, leaning against him and attempting to preen the man’s hair.
“It’s been really nice, not having the phone ringing off the hook,” Jesse said, as he and Leanna worked on dinner.
“It really has,” she said.
“Uh, hey,” Desmond said, as he came into the kitchen, “have either of you seen the garage?”
“It’s missing?” Jesse said, then laughed. “It was there when I got home.”
“What’s the matter?” Leanna was less amused.
Desmond looked at Jesse for a few seconds, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to speak. Then he moved his gaze to the faucet and said, “Someone came by and painted ‘Jesse Swanson is a, uh, fag’ and ‘you’ll be sorry’ on it, only they misspelled the last one.”
“God,” Jesse said, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “I’ll clean it up or paint over it.” He wiped his hands on his pants and turned toward the door to the mudroom.
“Don’t,” Leanna said, holding up her hand. “Take pictures, first. We have to document everything, the police said, and tell them about it.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Jesse, you need to wake up. Tanner needs to talk to you.”
“Huh?” Jesse rubbed at his face and squinted at his clock. Glowing green numbers told him it was a quarter to six. “Tanner? Now?”
“Yes,” Leanna said, holding the phone out to him. “I know it’s early.”
“’Sokay,” he said, taking the phone. “Tanner?”
“Hi, Jesse. I’m sorry to wake you up, but you may not want to come to work, today.”
“Why? What happened?” Jesse sat up, far more alert.
“Well, when I got here to open, I discovered that someone had spent a ridiculous amount of time spray-painting the building. Front, sides, and back. It’s all about you, and about your, uh, orientation.”
“Lemme guess, I’m a fag?” Jesse groaned and flopped backward. “Screw it, I’ll come in anyhow.”
“It’s a little more, um, explicit than that,” Tanner said. “I don’t know what it’s going to cost to get it cleaned up.”
“Don’t clean it up!” Jesse sat up again. “Uh, I gotta ask Mom. She’s been talking to the cops. They said you have to take pictures, first, and call them before you do anything. Kevin painted our garage last night. I don’t know if there’s someone you have to ask for or anything, but Mom’ll know. Hang on.”
lock up ur sons! jesse swanson is a fag! ull b sory! jesse swanson sucks cock! ull see ull b sory u shold of lisend! jesse swanson is a slutty whore!
“Charming,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “At least Chris isn’t here to see this.”
“At least it doesn’t involve Chris,” Desmond said. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, then shook his head. “It’s not right. None of it is.”
“Not on this side of the building, anyhow, and no, it’s not,” Jesse said. The thought of the same slurs applied to Chris, who would have understood that they were meant to hurt but not why, made him feel sicker than he already did. “Why is it that he can spell my name right, but not sorry, should, or you’ll?”
“Beats me,” Desmond said. “I swear to God, if I catch him, he is going to be sorry. And I’ll plead guilty and go to jail and be damn happy about it, too.”
“Dad,” Jesse said, and sighed. “Thanks for driving me over here. I’ll see you later.”
“Oh, here, you need one of these,” Betsy said, holding out a small slip of paper.
“What is this?” Jesse said, even as he took it from her. It was a green Hello, my name is: sticker, which had the word FAG written in the space beneath. “Excuse me?”
“We’re all wearing them, today,” she said, moving her jacket aside so he could see the pink one stuck to her apron, just below her regular name badge. “It was Tanner’s idea.”
“Really?” He blinked and realized that he hadn’t looked at anyone on the way in. “Uh, okay. Why?”
“Shit.” Jesse sighed and pressed the switch hook, frowning as the broken dial tone blatted at him. He started the process of checking the voicemail. “You said you ran into Kevin, today.”
“Yes.”
“Did you attack him?” The pleasant female voice informed him that there were fifteen new messages.
“Yes. Bad man.” Sings-like-water shifted from foot to foot. “Wanted hurt me.”
“Oh.” Jesse deleted the first message, which said You’ll be sorry. You’ll all be sorry. If you don’t come back, you’ll regret it. The second one, recorded a mere minute after the first one, was interrupted by the beep of the call-waiting signal. He braced himself and switched over. “Swanson residence.”
“Come back to me, Jesse.”
“No. You tried to do something to Chris again, and that doesn’t make me want to get back together with you.”
“Then you’ll regret it. You’ll all be sorry, and it’ll be all your fault.” The line went dead again.
Jesse sighed and went back to deleting voicemail messages. Kevin called back, over and over again, and each time the conversation went the same way.
“Hey, Mom.” Jesse waved as Leanna carried the mail into the living room.
“Hi, sweetie,” she said, sitting down on the other end of the couch. “How was your day?”
“Eh. Work was okay, but Chris called to say his family wanted to try to get along again, so would he mind coming back for a few days? So he went to see them. He wasn’t sure how long he was going to be gone, but at least the rest of the week. And Kevin’s still calling, although I’ve kind of slowed him down some.” Jesse held up a whistle. “If it’s him, I blow this instead of talking or listening to him. He doesn’t call as often as he has been.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, a thoughtful look on her face. “Well, I hope Chris can patch things up with his family. He seems like such a good person.”
“Me too. I miss him already, though.”
“This is absolutely the last straw,” Leanna said, as she left the phone off the hook. “Calls at all hours, none of our family can get through to us, and with Aunt Gillian in the hospital…. I am calling the police and the phone company first thing tomorrow morning.”
“You still know where this joker lives, right, Jesse?” Desmond glowered in his son’s direction.
“You’re not going to go assault him,” Leanna said, before Jesse could answer. “Because if you do, you will get arrested.”
“Yeah, I know where he lives, but Mom’s right,” Jesse said. He shook his head and sighed. “I’m really sorry about all of this. I didn’t know he’d act like this. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Desmond said, shrugging at him. “You keep telling him ‘go away’, and he keeps not listening.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Okay, so, there’s water and a snack for you, the window’s open, and I’ll come home at lunchtime.” Jesse looked around his room and shrugged. “I think that’s it, for now. If Kevin comes over, there’s not much you can do, so I guess just stay out of sight?”
“Yes!” Sings-like-water nodded vigorously. “Bad man.”
“Seriously annoying man, anyhow. Okay, I gotta get out of here. See you later.”
“Good day,” Sings-like-water said.
“Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
“Hi, Jess. Well, I’ve spent most of my morning either on the phone or running around, but the good news is that the phone company was ridiculously helpful. The other thing is that, um, I filed for a restraining order against Kevin. Once it’s official, he has to stay away from us and the house.”
“Yeah? Great. I got your text with our new number.” He shook his head. “I really didn’t mean for this to happen, Mom, I swear. I’m sorry.”
“I know. It just happened to be us, that’s all. It’s not your fault.”
“I kinda think it is, ’cause if I’d never, y’know, gone out with him….” Jesse sighed.
“Sweetie, you didn’t know. You’re not a hellion, or at least you haven’t been one since you were about three. If I thought you had planned this as some sort of elaborate revenge, that would be different.”
He laughed. “No! I can’t think of anything I want revenge for, at least not that involves you and Dad. Dad changed the rules already, and okay, so maybe I’m still a little miffed about the whole French fries thing. If I wanted to pay you back for that, I’d just, y’know, eat your fries. All of them. Without asking.”
“Good Lord, Jesse, that was ten years ago,” she said, but her voice was amused. “Besides, you already did that anyhow. At least once. Okay, I need to let you go so I can call your dad and so you can get back to work. Love you.”
“Love you too, Mom. Have a good day. Oh! I’m on my way home to have lunch and see if Chris sent me an e-mail or anything, just so you know.”
“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll try, you too. Bye.”
“Yeah. Bye.”
“I brought you something,” Jesse said, as he walked into his room.
“Jesse!” Sings-like-water hopped from the foot of the bed to Jesse’s shoulder and pushed his beak into Jesse’s hair.
“Hey there,” he said, putting the plates he carried on his desk. “I brought you some liver.”
“Liver!” The bird flitted over to the desk and eyed both the small heap of maroon chunks and Jesse’s sandwich. Sings-like-water stole a potato chip, then sidled around to the far edge of the plate that held his lunch. “Thank you.”
“Dork,” Jesse said, wrinkling his nose at the theft. “You’re welcome. How was your morning?”
“Good. Flew!” He broke the potato chip into smaller pieces, then ate one. “Saw… family. Liked to see me.”
“Yeah? Good, I’m glad they were happy to see you.” Jesse picked up his sandwich. “My family has always been—Even when I first told my parents, and my dad was really pissed off, he never threatened to throw me out. I’m so, so lucky, and I just want your family to be okay with you.”
Sings-like-water swallowed a piece of liver, trying to find the words to explain. “Family… confused. Say man, say not us, say how? But not say bad. Not… not say you wrong. Not say leave.”
Jesse nodded as he chewed, leaning forward and touching Sings-like-water’s head. “That’s awesome. Good.”
“Sis… sister has chosen,” Sings-like-water said, then had another chunk of liver.
“Oh? Cool. Do you know him? Is he a good, uh, guy?”
“Yes. Finds… Finds-mice-well. Can feed her. Make good nest.”
“I hope they’ll be happy together,” Jesse said, feeling a little weird.
“Yes.” Sings-like-water pushed meat across his plate, occasionally looking up at Jesse.
He helped himself to a couple of chips of his own. “Mom changed our phone number, this morning, and went to get a thing saying that Kevin can’t come around anymore.”
“Good! Bad man.” Sings-like-water made a dismissive noise, then ate another piece of his stolen potato chip.
Chapter Twenty
Bright-tail knew she was supposed to stay away from the big box-things, because they were where men lived and men were dangerous, like almost everything else that was bigger than she was. She could smell something good coming from this one, though. The magpie moved closer and closer and closer, until she was perched on the edge of the gutter.
The smell was coming from a dark opening on the side of the box. It was a food smell, rich blood and meaty. There was another smell, too, this one familiar, like her family, but not exactly the same. Bright-tail poked her beak into the white feathers of her belly, chasing a sudden tickle, then leaned over the edge to see what she could see.
Sings-like-water opened an eye and looked toward the window. Nothing there, save the same boring view of the same boring street. He was halfway to dozing again when there was a fluttering scrabbling sound at the window. A magpie! What was a magpie doing on the windowsill? “Hello.”
Bright-tail chirped in surprise and jumped backward, flapping back up to the gutter. There was someone inside! Someone who sounded like her, but still different. After a minute of carefully straightening her feathers, she returned to the sill. “Not food,” she said, just in case.
“I don’t want to eat you,” Sings-like-water said. What a strange idea! But then, magpies were known to be a little weird.
“No eat?” She looked at the raven, perched on a funny branch near the window. “Why here?”
“This is my nest, my home,” Sings-like-water said. He’d spent the empty hours of yesterday thinking about it, finally determining that his decision was correct: this was where he belonged.
“You nest here? Odd.” But then, everyone knew ravens were odd. “Where food?”
So that was why she was here. “Here,” he said, fluttering over to the desk. There were a few scraps of liver on his breakfast plate, and he pushed them into a pile with his bill. “Liver.”
“Liver!” Bright-tail hopped into the house and flapped over to the flat surface. Ravens were odd, but this one might not be so bad. “Want.”
“Eat,” Sings-like-water said, stepping back from the plate.
“Did you hear from Chris today?” Leanna said, as she passed the salad to Desmond.
“Yeah,” Jesse said, nodding. “He called me and said that things are actually going better than he was expecting, but he’s looking forward to coming back. It might be a couple more days, but at least everyone’s speaking to one another and when they do it’s positive.”
“Good,” Desmond said, passing the salad bowl along to Jesse. “Even if they make you crazy, your kids are still your kids.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Bright-tail settled on the peak of the roof and casually preened the underside of her right wing. After a minute or two, she nonchalantly walked down the slope to the gutter, where she perched and attended to her left wing. A quick look around and she dropped over the edge, her wings and tail curved and canted just-so to take her to the windowsill. “Hello!”
“Hello, not-food,” Sings-like-water said.
She flicked her tail in irritation. “Am Bright-tail!”
“I am Sings-like-water,” he said, turning his head this way and that, looking her over.
“Sings-watery,” Bright-tail said. “Liver?”
“No liver,” he said, moving over to the desk. “Eggs and toast.”
“Eggs!” She crouched to join him, then straightened up again. Ravens were odd and crafty. “Your eggs? Your nest, your eggs?”
“Food-eggs,” Sings-like-water said, nudging the plate that Jesse had left him. “Good.”
Well, that was different, then. As were the eggs—there were globs of yellow-white things on the plate, next to bits of brown things. Bright-tail glided across to the desk and tentatively poked at the nearest of the globs. “Eggs?”
“Yes. Scrammed.” That wasn’t quite the right word, but he’d been forgetting human words at a frightening rate. What if he forgot them all? What if he was never human again? What if he couldn’t talk to Jesse if he did turn into a human again? He shifted on the desktop, then flew back to perch on the head of Jesse’s bed.
“Sings-watery eggs bad?”
“Eggs good. Bright-tail eat.” He fluffed his feathers up, then began smoothing them into place, the routine soothing. Jesse would be home soon, and then he could try to tell him. Maybe Jesse could use the box on the desk—he closed his eyes and thought hard—the computer to help them both.
“Since they’re not that good for people, I bet they’re even worse for birds, so I only brought you two fried livers,” Jesse said, as he unpacked the bag he’d brought upstairs.
“Thank you.” Sings-like-water pulled the small package over and stood on it, then tore it open with his beak. It was a satisfying way to start lunch, but it didn’t last. “Jesse?”
“Hm?”
“Want human,” he said, abandoning his food and walking up Jesse’s arm. “Want now.” He pushed hair behind Jesse’s ear.
“I know,” Jesse said, after he’d swallowed his bite of sandwich. “I wish you were back to being human, too. We’ll figure it out, I promise.” Not that he had any idea how.
“Good.” He stood on Jesse’s shoulder for a couple of minutes, leaning against him and attempting to preen the man’s hair.
“It’s been really nice, not having the phone ringing off the hook,” Jesse said, as he and Leanna worked on dinner.
“It really has,” she said.
“Uh, hey,” Desmond said, as he came into the kitchen, “have either of you seen the garage?”
“It’s missing?” Jesse said, then laughed. “It was there when I got home.”
“What’s the matter?” Leanna was less amused.
Desmond looked at Jesse for a few seconds, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to speak. Then he moved his gaze to the faucet and said, “Someone came by and painted ‘Jesse Swanson is a, uh, fag’ and ‘you’ll be sorry’ on it, only they misspelled the last one.”
“God,” Jesse said, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “I’ll clean it up or paint over it.” He wiped his hands on his pants and turned toward the door to the mudroom.
“Don’t,” Leanna said, holding up her hand. “Take pictures, first. We have to document everything, the police said, and tell them about it.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Jesse, you need to wake up. Tanner needs to talk to you.”
“Huh?” Jesse rubbed at his face and squinted at his clock. Glowing green numbers told him it was a quarter to six. “Tanner? Now?”
“Yes,” Leanna said, holding the phone out to him. “I know it’s early.”
“’Sokay,” he said, taking the phone. “Tanner?”
“Hi, Jesse. I’m sorry to wake you up, but you may not want to come to work, today.”
“Why? What happened?” Jesse sat up, far more alert.
“Well, when I got here to open, I discovered that someone had spent a ridiculous amount of time spray-painting the building. Front, sides, and back. It’s all about you, and about your, uh, orientation.”
“Lemme guess, I’m a fag?” Jesse groaned and flopped backward. “Screw it, I’ll come in anyhow.”
“It’s a little more, um, explicit than that,” Tanner said. “I don’t know what it’s going to cost to get it cleaned up.”
“Don’t clean it up!” Jesse sat up again. “Uh, I gotta ask Mom. She’s been talking to the cops. They said you have to take pictures, first, and call them before you do anything. Kevin painted our garage last night. I don’t know if there’s someone you have to ask for or anything, but Mom’ll know. Hang on.”
lock up ur sons! jesse swanson is a fag! ull b sory! jesse swanson sucks cock! ull see ull b sory u shold of lisend! jesse swanson is a slutty whore!
“Charming,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “At least Chris isn’t here to see this.”
“At least it doesn’t involve Chris,” Desmond said. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, then shook his head. “It’s not right. None of it is.”
“Not on this side of the building, anyhow, and no, it’s not,” Jesse said. The thought of the same slurs applied to Chris, who would have understood that they were meant to hurt but not why, made him feel sicker than he already did. “Why is it that he can spell my name right, but not sorry, should, or you’ll?”
“Beats me,” Desmond said. “I swear to God, if I catch him, he is going to be sorry. And I’ll plead guilty and go to jail and be damn happy about it, too.”
“Dad,” Jesse said, and sighed. “Thanks for driving me over here. I’ll see you later.”
“Oh, here, you need one of these,” Betsy said, holding out a small slip of paper.
“What is this?” Jesse said, even as he took it from her. It was a green Hello, my name is: sticker, which had the word FAG written in the space beneath. “Excuse me?”
“We’re all wearing them, today,” she said, moving her jacket aside so he could see the pink one stuck to her apron, just below her regular name badge. “It was Tanner’s idea.”
“Really?” He blinked and realized that he hadn’t looked at anyone on the way in. “Uh, okay. Why?”
