Honestly Ben Read online

  So I’d been less than honest. Surely I wasn’t the first. A lot of the guys on the baseball team—and probably other teams—took the answer keys. It was a means to an end. I’d cheated on one test. I’d never do it again.

  Someday I’d be out of this place. I’d be at school somewhere great, and maybe my dad wouldn’t get me still, but it wouldn’t matter, because I’d be with more people who did get me.

  I thought about fear. About how for all these years, I’d been exactly who my dad wanted me to be. And there were perks to that. Sometimes a kind word. But so many other times, nothing, And so much criticism that I believed it. Bought it. I believed I was a screwup, even though I was the first in my immediate family to attend a boarding school, even though I’d been an A student, even though I had dreams of college. I’d gotten so many Stop that foolishness looks and Well, don’t get a big head about it talks that I had taken over for Dad and started giving them to myself in his place when he wasn’t around.

  I had made sure not to get a big head. I had followed all the rules, sometimes because I was afraid, and other times because I wasn’t aware there was an alternative. Groups don’t get all civilly disobedient until they realize they’ve been missing something. That’s me. All my life I did the good-son thing, because I didn’t realize I had a choice.

  I looked in the mirror again. I resisted the urge to clean off the glass with my forearm. I desperately wanted to see myself unencumbered. My true reflection. But I couldn’t.

  And tomorrow I’d pay homage to a guy just like me, whom everybody loved, but nobody knew. But our stories were different, because I didn’t have a Vietnam, and there would be life after this for me. Right?

  Right?

  “Thank you, Headmaster Taylor. And thanks to the Pappas Foundation for this honor. I am humbled to even be considered for this award, and I am beyond grateful for the scholarship that is part of it.

  “Even if what I’m about to say means I won’t get the award and the scholarship, I am very grateful that it was offered to me.”

  The audience shifted. I looked out and locked eyes with Rafe. His expression was full of love and compassion, and I smiled at him.

  “It’s probably not going to surprise you that I’ve spent a lot of time lately thinking about Peter Pappas.

  “All I’ve heard about him for the past couple years is how brave he was. And I want to tell you: I did everything I could to understand who he was. Partially because I wanted to learn about him so I could pay homage to him, and partially because I’m a big history geek and I like to research things.

  “Peter Pappas was, indeed, a very brave man.

  “He fought for this country. He gave his life for our country, and that’s a kind of bravery I can’t even imagine. Could I put my life on the line for this country that I love? I’d like to think so, but the idea of being in a war is something I can’t get my head around.

  “I read some letters Peter sent to his family from Vietnam. When he wrote about seeing his closest friend get blown up right next to him, I realized that understanding what it feels like to be in a war is impossible unless you’ve been there.

  “And there were other things I read in his letters that made me realize that as brave as Peter Pappas was, he probably wouldn’t be too thrilled to know about the award being given in his name.

  “Peter Pappas was complicated, like all of us are. When he was at Natick, he was the big man on campus. He was a star on the basketball team and the soccer team. He was a straight-A student, and he had many, many friends. He was in Model Congress. Everybody loved Peter Pappas.

  “I’m not sure, though, that everybody really knew Peter Pappas. I met his sister, and like her, Peter grew up in a working-class part of Dorchester. I don’t know if anyone has ever mentioned that before. When I got the award, I figured he was from a wealthy family. And as I researched, I realized, of course, he wasn’t rich. Wealthy kids didn’t often go to Vietnam.

  “Peter needed everyone to admire him. Especially his dad. That’s what his sister told me, and reading his letters, I saw that. Come to think of it, I wonder if a lot of overachievers in the world have that same need to make their parents proud.

  “Here’s something you didn’t know about Peter Pappas: Two years before he enlisted, he was an anti-war crusader. He chained himself to a fence post at a rally in front of the Massachusetts State House. He gave an impassioned argument in Model Congress about how our boys should not be dying to protect a crooked Vietnamese regime.

  “His father was an ardent supporter of the war, and Peter hated not being on the same side as his father. So Peter changed his mind to be in line with his dad’s opinions, and he volunteered to enlist at seventeen. And then, once he was thrust into the inhuman situation of war, he had a change of heart. I read some of his letters, and he was afraid. Petrified. He wanted to come home. He wanted to live in a peaceful world. That’s who Peter Pappas was. But I’m not calling him a coward. He was the opposite of a coward.

  “I think that expressing fear was expressing the truth. And it’s hard to express the truth when the world wants you to be someone else.

  “I guess you might be wondering why I would say all of this. I thought a lot about this, believe me. I’m not a guy of many words, and I’m not one to buck the system. But mischaracterizing a guy who is no longer with us is wrong. Peter was brave, and I do believe Peter Pappas deserves to have an award named after him. But I wouldn’t want to be remembered as something I wasn’t. Even if the world celebrated my memory. It’s not right.

  “What I learned, studying Peter Pappas, is a life lesson. It’s about the rewards we get when we are who other people want us to be. Peter Pappas decided to be who his father thought he should be. And I’m not saying that being who others want you to be is a recipe for death. That’s way too simple. But I do think that when we choose the easy path, where people or society reward us for being what they want us to be, against who we really are, a kind of death occurs. To the soul.

  “All my life, I bought this idea that the way to live is to stay quiet, stay serious, even if it means my soul feels dead. I bought that idea, and it became mine. But today, I think the best way to live is like my good friend Toby Rylander, who chooses to be himself even if it makes his life harder in a way, because at least he’s alive in his soul.

  “I want to be like that. Myself. Even when it’s harder. Even when it’s inconvenient. Toby has taught me the value of standing up and being seen.

  “I thank him for that. And I thank Peter Pappas for that. And—I thank Rafe Goldberg for that. Whom I happen to love.

  “Being who you are means admitting when you make mistakes. And recently, I made a big mistake. It probably will mean I won’t get this award, but when I think about what my soul would feel like to carry around this mistake all my life, I realize I would rather own up to it and face the consequences than act like it didn’t happen and accept the award under false pretenses.

  “On Tuesday, I cheated on a calculus test. I had never cheated before. It was a horrible choice. I felt like I needed to cheat, I guess. If I didn’t cheat, I would have failed the test, and in order to be the person I’ve tried to be the last few years—good at everything, with no real weaknesses—I felt like I had to get a good grade.

  “I’m sorry for cheating. I let myself down, and I let the school down. I understand that I will get in trouble for it. That’s fine. Starting today, I am going to be who I am and stand for what I stand for, so I don’t ever have to make a choice like that again, one that goes against my morals, in order to be what people want me to be.

  “It’s a different situation, but I think Peter Pappas would totally get what I’m talking about.

  “Thank you.”

  As I walked offstage, the lack of applause was palpable. The awkward silence stretched out for what felt like a full minute but was probably just five seconds or so, and I stood in the wings of the auditorium, alone, wondering what was next.

  H
eadmaster Taylor came backstage first. He was shaking his head, clearly annoyed.

  “You probably just cost yourself your scholarship, and worse, you may have just cost the school this award,” he said.

  I lowered my head. “I know.”

  “Selfish and not smart,” he said. “Very disappointed in you.”

  I didn’t respond, and I didn’t look up.

  “How did you cheat? Where did you get the answers to the test?”

  I shook my head. I wasn’t interested in involving anyone else in my drama.

  “Consider yourself suspended,” he said. “You won’t be going to Florida either. I’ll talk to your parents right now. You’ll come back a week after everyone else, and this will go on your personal record.”

  He stomped off, and I kept my head down. I’d known that could happen. Would happen, even. But hearing that I wasn’t going to Fort Lauderdale with my teammates hit me somewhere tender.

  Then I thought about Pappas, and that made me feel better. I wondered if there really was an afterlife, and if he’d know that I restored the truth about him. I had to believe he’d be glad I’d done it.

  And it occurred to me: All this time, I’d been thinking about how Pappas had believed in something so much that he died for it, and I could never imagine doing that. But I’d just given up a scholarship, probably, part of my future, because I believed in the truth.

  Wow. Maybe I finally did find the thing I’d die for.

  I only had a few moments to think about that before Rafe tore back the curtain and ran up to me. “Wow!” he said. “That was—unexpected.”

  I managed a smirk. “Ta-dah! Scholarship gone.”

  “Maybe. Probably. How do you feel?”

  I thought about it. Rafe was smiling at me, and I couldn’t help but smile back. “Lighter,” I said.

  “Lighter?”

  I nodded, and Rafe hugged me. I hugged him back, hard.

  Then my parents arrived. I pulled away from Rafe, but I kept hold of his hand. Mine shook.

  My mother looked a little confused. My father’s expression was stone.

  “What’s this?” He gestured to our connected hands.

  “It is what it is,” I said. I braced for the verbal assault.

  “Let’s get going,” he said, devoid of emotion, and he began to walk off. “Long drive home.”

  “I’m not ready,” I said.

  He stopped walking about ten feet from me, but he didn’t turn around.

  “I’ll wait in the car,” he said.

  “Dad,” I said, quietly. “Come on.”

  He took a moment, and then he turned and walked back to where I was standing. He spoke very softly.

  “How many times do I have to tell you not to embarrass me? And yet you do. I’m embarrassed to be your father.”

  I looked down. Rafe squeezed my hand.

  “You’re embarrassed to be my dad?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  We stood there in silence. Dad crossed his arms over his chest. I held on to Rafe’s hand, feeling about two feet tall.

  I turned and faced Rafe, very aware my parents were across from us. I felt torn between who I was, and who I was.

  And who was I?

  This empty feeling in my chest. It had always been there. And then there was this new thing, light and warm and totally not empty, and it was pressing down on the empty.

  I smiled at Rafe, first a small one that matched his sympathetic gaze, and then I looked into Rafe’s eyes and I saw him. I saw him. Who he was, and who he was to me. I smiled bigger and truer.

  “This is not rocket surgery,” I muttered, and he cracked up. Happy Rafe was too much for me to just look at. So I leaned over and hugged him, hard. He gasped into my shoulder, and I gripped him tight.

  “I’m not gonna lose you again,” I said into his arm, and I heard him say back, “No, you won’t.”

  I pulled away until we were face-to-face, and then I kissed him.

  My father cleared his throat. I didn’t react. I kept my lips glued to Rafe’s. My dad cleared his throat more. You can clear your throat until your vocal cords are severed, I thought. If you want to say something, say something. But I was through with this not saying stuff. It was just not happening anymore.

  I took a full second before releasing our liplock and turning to my parents, who were both staring at us, slack jawed.

  I smiled, the warmest, kindest one I could muster.

  “This is me,” I said. “Me.”

  Me, it turned out, was not something my father was interested in seeing.

  “C’mon, Marlene,” he said as he started to walk away.

  She didn’t move.

  “C’mon. Let’s beat the traffic.”

  “Stop it, Richard,” she said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said stop it. Stop walking away, and stop telling me what to do.”

  And in the most surprising moment of my life so far, my dad stopped.

  My mother took over the conversation, and I felt like my heart was dancing in my chest.

  “So, sweetheart,” she said to me. “You’re homosexual?”

  I shook my head. “No. I mean, I don’t know what I am. I’ve always liked girls. But now I like Rafe. I don’t think I’m gay, but I like Rafe. Love.”

  She squinted at me. “I don’t get what that all means. Are you a couple with Rafe?”

  I nodded and took Rafe’s hand.

  “Well, then. I always thought Cindy was a bit of a wet blanket. I don’t know you too well yet, Rafe. Are you a wet blanket?”

  “No, ma’am,” he said, smiling, and he walked over to her and hugged her. She put her arm around his neck.

  “Well, then, good. I don’t want any more wet blankets in this family. God knows we have plenty of those.” She looked at my dad. “I also want to let everyone know that I’m selling herbal remedies now.”

  “Not in my store, you ain’t,” my dad said.

  “Yes, in our store. And if not, then someplace else. Seriously, Richard. The world is changing. Stop being so darned wet blanket-y.”

  As angry as I was at my dad, I could feel what he must be feeling in his chest. Killer of fun. It’s not a fun place to be, even if you believe it’s the right place to be.

  And then my dad did it again. He walked away. “I’m not gonna listen to this foolishness,” he said.

  “Of course not,” she said, once he was gone. Then she turned to us. “I don’t know that I’m in love with my friend Hazel, but I sure do like her lots. Is that what you guys have?”

  I turned to Rafe and swam (and sunk) in his hazel eyes. “Perchance,” I said.

  Dad took their truck and drove back himself. My mom gave me a little time to pack up and say good-bye to people before I drove her home in Gretchen. She sat at one of the picnic tables by the lake and did her knitting, while Rafe and I walked back to the dorms hand in hand.

  Pretty much everybody gawked as we walked by. It was like they were doing the math about all the things I’d said. Some people gave us a “What’s up” or nodded. Some people looked and then looked away. No one said anything mean. My guess was that people were too afraid of me to say anything not nice.

  Once we got to my room, Rafe threw his arms around me and I threw my arms around him, and we kissed each other for a long time. Part of me wanted to lock the door, but with my mom waiting for us, it felt kinda wrong.

  “You, sir, are so getting laid when we get back,” he said.

  I laughed. “That’s why I did it. I threw everything away, and it was all for sex.”

  He cracked up. “Of course. You sure you don’t want to come out to Boulder for the break?”

  I sat down on the bed. “I want to more than anything. But I better go to New Hampshire and deal with my dad.”

  “You and your dad are so different.”

  I shrugged.

  Rafe said, “I guess I see where you get your walking-away habit from.”

  “Never
again. I promise. Never again.”

  “You love him?”

  “He’s my dad.”

  “Well, if you decide you want to come to Colorado, just call. My mom has a shit ton of miles, and I’m sure she’d give them to you.”

  “That’s really nice. Thanks. And I’d like nothing more. Let’s just play it by ear, okay?”

  There was a knock on the door. It was Donnelly. He seemed different when he came in and saw me and Rafe together. He nodded at Rafe and then focused on me.

  “Well, that was quite a talk,” he said.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Headmaster Taylor wanted me to let you know that you won’t be coming to Florida.”

  “I know,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  “He also wanted me to tell you that the foundation board will be meeting this coming week about this. You might have lost the award. You probably did.”

  “I’m aware of that.”

  “Why’d you do it?”

  “Because of something you said, actually. You said maybe I’d bought something and didn’t even know I’d bought it. You were right, you know. It was time to sell.”

  He looked between me and Rafe, like he was watching a tennis match. I wondered if he followed what I was saying, or if he even heard it. Maybe it was the first time anyone had ever told Donnelly that he’d said something to them that mattered.

  “Okay,” he said. “Well. Okay. Have a good break, Carver. I support your lifestyle, by the way. People have the right to choose whatever lifestyle they want.”