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Gay Book 'The Locker'
Copyright © 2004 • All Rights
Reserved
the strength of their love embracing each other within his very soul.
The soft whispered ‘goodbye’ rang loudly within his ears and deep in his heart as he saw
the long eyelashes flutter once, then a second time, felt the hand growing
cold in his, felt the skin cooling as the last beat echoed inside of his
body, and he knew that he had lost the most precious gift of all, feeling
the pain reaching into his body, tearing at his heart and ripping his soul
and spirit apart into thousands of tiny shards, and yet still his heart
beat, still his soul cried, thundering its love. He had thought he’d
collapse, that he couldn’t bear what he was seeing and as he felt his legs
growing numb, felt his mind darkening and clouding over, a strange warmth
suddenly began to creep inside of him, warming the coldness of his bones,
easing the growing chill that had come to him and he stared at the face in
the bed, seeing the eyes closed, seeing the lips shut and for a mere
instant, he saw the thin tendrils of pain vanish from the face. The skin was
no longer stretched taut, no longer burning with unbearable pain and he saw
his brother’s face as it used to be, full of life, full of merriment and
his heart grew stronger, the ripping pain suddenly held at bay.
The image in his locker stopped shimmering as the pale yellow
light continued to glare in the room, filling it with its eerie shadows but
his heart no longer ached, no longer felt like it would be split apart and
he saw his hand reaching out, the tip of one finger lightly touching the
image of his brother, gently caressing the lips and then he stood up, the
pain once more held at bay, once more bottled up inside in the dark empty
hole that resided in not just his heart but in his very soul. He stood tall,
looking at his brother’s face, knowing that he missed him immensely and
that even in death, his brother had shown him, had taught him things that he
maybe hadn’t wanted to know, hadn’t wanted to learn but he had. Dakota
squared his shoulders, smiled weakly at the photograph, and now he started
to think ahead, to wonder if maybe what he had seen in Noah’s face that
first day, that first second had been real or just his imagination. The pain
was at bay but the fear was still there, different and yet the same as he
wiped away one more tear, wondering if he was wrong, if maybe he was
reaching for something not there but then he saw Montana’s face, heard his
voice deep in his soul, urging him to look beyond the ‘what if’s’, to
look towards a future that was his if he wanted it, if he was willing to
just stretch out and
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