Page 79 of Shifting Years
Before Christmas 1977
Mike
Angel got adopted as Tina and Dawn predicted. Our little girl, who could have been opening presents or watchingLaff-A-Lympicswith us, went to live in another home with new sisters.
Summer passed, followed by fall. I made love once with a man who still didn't remember our earlier times and it seemed off, like cheating with his twin.
America wanted to forget Vietnam, and President Carter pardoned most draft dodgers. Todd went to war but registered under the program as a just in case. He now had access to his declassified records, including those of a former private and now lieutenant we both knew.
Sometimes when we thought we had nothing in common, the universe surprised us.
In the living room, Todd stretched tall, flexing a bicep as he carefully placed a recently purchased plastic star on the green fir tree's top. Other families had decorations passed through the years. My mom wasn't as bad as Todd's father, but I'm not welcome back home.
A freshly chopped tree smell and male sweat mixed as I watched. "Finishing already? Thought you were going to wait?"
He stilled, lowering his arm as the star hovered over the treetop. "I'm tired of waiting. For the tree, for everything." His voice deepened. "It's time we start a family."
I'm sure my eyebrows rose.
"She's gone, Mike, but notforever. I tell myself that every day. She's with her family, but one day, she'll come back to us. When she does, we'll be ready." I opened my mouth, but he hurried. "Please? Do we need to argue now?" He pointed to the decorations hugged by green pine needles.
He brought it up and wanted me to saynothingabout Angel? With a jaw clench, I nodded. At least he said 'Please.'
"I don't know the pain of leaving a child, but I left you. I didn't get the life I thought I'd get. Couldn't be a straight man for Donna. At least that's what my Swiss cheese memory tells me. My military background, or rather questions in my file, means I'll never be a police officer or official war hero."
His voice turned cold, distant. "I remember the bamboo cage. The screams. The blood. But you? I can't even remember the man who was my whole damn world." He looked away. "Maybe the universe says I don't deserve to remember the good. You! That's the good."
The man who hated my music, and television shows, and wasstillon the opposite side of politics thought I was the light in his life. My eyes stung in the winter cold.
His shoulders slumped. "I'm tired of just existing. We've gone through so much and been away from each other. I know you see a stranger, but I'm still me where it counts. Can you stop babying me like I'm going to break?"
I could apologize, but would I be making love to my Todd or just a man wearing his face?
"I've been shot at, stabbed with sharp bamboo, lost brothers in combat, and a daughter I would have loved as my own." He fisted his hand. "Don't make me lose you too. Anything but that."
He left the room, not to avoid another argument. From the bedroom, our bed squeaked, and I found him on his tiptoes, pulling presents down from the ceiling attic. Both were wrapped in a Frosty the Snowman pattern. One had a record shape, and it was easy to guess what was hidden inside. The other had weight and was as long as a bread loaf.
"Oh," I said. "I'm still waiting for yours to arrive."
"I'm sure you can give me something." His beautiful lips curled into a crooked smile. My sweet smell was obvious to me and to him.
He gestured to the long present. After mild prodding, I carefully peeled away the wrapping. Inside was an electronic device that looked like… headphones?
"Portable music," he said. "You can listen to your awful hippie screeching." He grinned. "It picks up a station that plays The Grateful Dead." He listed more singers and bands I loved from Joni Mitchell to Jefferson Airplane. Funny enough, I signed up for an album of the month club. Soon he'd have a bunch of Country and Western records.
"Thank you," I said. "I'll use it when I go into the woods." Just a simple sentence, loaded with a message. I was safe again. Thanks to him. No longer would I look over my shoulder.
His tone lowered. "I wanted to give you something else… like going to San Francisco, but I can't." The spirit of the sixtiesdisappeared, and I still don't know how to define the seventies, but I had to dosomething.Vietnam was over, but there were other wars and sometimes one side used guns.
Do I want to send him off to another?
"So, Anita Bryant," he said.
My sugary scent left, replaced by a copper aroma. "Why bring her up?" I said, louder than I wanted. It's said gay men hate women, but Mary was my best friend and I got along well with Penny, but Anita? "The orange juice queen? She's the reason people hate us."
"They didn't love us before."
"She's fanning the flames. If it weren't for her, we'd be left alone."
