The Adventures of Bob Smith

Alex's Story

The next morning, I got up, slid my feet into my slippers and started wandering around the house.  It was a strange feeling being back in my own house, wearing my old pyjamas and my fuzzy slippers.  I'd been away for so long.

As I made my way through the house, every shadow seemed to sit and wait for a chance to jump out at me.  I started to feel nervous again.  Although I knew, deep down, that there was nothing to be afraid of, I just couldn't shake the feeling.  Where was he?  I had to find him, then I'd be safe.  Even at the time, I knew it was crazy, but I knew I'd feel safer once I got near him.

I shuffled quickly through the house to get to the living room.  Bob was sitting up on the couch, like he was expecting me.

"Good morning."

"Morning"  Want something to drink?"

"Yes, thanks.  Is there anything to be had for breakfast?"

I hesitated.  He had an odd way of phrasing his question.

"Sure.  You wanna come gimme a hand making it?"

He got up from the couch and met me in the kitchen.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Who's Henry?"

I didn't say anything right away.  I just stared at him.

"What did you say?  Where'd you hear that name?"

Bob paused for a moment before speaking.  "I could hear you talking in your sleep.  You sounded like you were calling out to someone named Henry."

At that point, I started to tremble.  Just a little.    I didn't want to ever hear that name again, but apparently I hadn't let go of him as much as I thought I had.

"Was I that loud?"

"No, you weren't.  I just have very good hearing."

"It actually goes along with the stuff I told you yesterday."  I could feel my voice starting to crack.  It was so long ago, I didn't think it would affect me so much.

"It's alright if you don't want to tell me."

"No, you've already heard part of it.  I might as well finish the story."  Seriously, what was it about this guy that made me want to pour my heart out to him.  I hadn't even thought about Henry in almost ten years, and now I was going to just blab the story.  "Come here."

I lead Bob back to the couch, but instead of sitting down right away I crouched down in front of it.  Reaching under, I pulled out a binder.  Then, I sat down and patted the cushion next to me, beckoning him to join me.  He did, and I opened the binder.  It was an old photo album, and I flipped back to some old pictures of when I was young.

When I stopped flipping, I was twelve years old.  The picture was a little over ten years old, and you could see the difference in who I was, even deep down.  The first, most obvious difference was the same thing most people notice first about me.  When I was twelve, most people didn't know I was ... you know.  I hid it pretty well.

Anyhow, time for my story.

"When I was thirteen, I was the most popular girl in class, 'cause I was the only one who was allowed to wear makeup.  The boys all thought I was cooler, and the girls were just plain jealous.  I went out sometimes, but I always checked the weather, and I never went out in the rain.  Everybody thought I was just afraid of getting wet."

"Then one night, I was out with him."  I started to choke on the next line.  It was a name I hadn't thought of in almost ten years, and hadn't said out loud for a few years before that.  "... with a boy named Henry, and it started to rain while we were in the movie.  I didn't want to leave until the rain stopped, but he walked out there into the rain.  'It won't hurt you,' he said.  I tried to tell him he didn't understand, but he didn't listen."

I hung my head and paused.  Bob didn't say anything, just looked at me and waited for me to continue.

"I'm sure you can guess what happened when I went out.  It wasn't a secret anymore.  I never got a second date with Henry, and there weren't any other boys for a long time after that.  It felt like I'd been living a lie."

"Is that why you don't wear makeup anymore?"

I turned the page and flashed forward by a year.  The picture looked very different.  I wasn't smiling, and it was clearly visible, cutting across my face from my lip, across my cheek, to my temple.

"Not anymore.  I stopped trying to cover it up a few months later.  It wasn't doing any good anyway, so why bother?"

"You looked happier before."

"That might be what it looks like, but I wasn't.  I was completely worried that the camera would spot my... you know.  And then I could stop worrying.  It was really very liberating."

"So you kept your secret for what... six, seven years?"

I didn't speak, just nodded.

"That's longer than I kept mine."

"You mind if I ask what was bothering you last night?"

"What?  When?"

"When I came back with the drinks, you were kinda spaced out."

"Oh, that.  I was just looking at the pictures, wondering what it was like to grow up."

"And I told you before you even had a chance to ask."

He turned toward me.  "I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but it doesn't sound so bad."

"Excuse me?"  Not so bad, seriously?  Not that this was some kind of contest.