A Heart in Port, Part 3 of 3

Part 1 can be found at http://www.abctales.com/story/nexis-pas/heart-port-part-1-3 and Part 2 at http://www.abctales.com/story/nexis-pas/heart-port-part-2-0f-3

Mark sat at his bedroom window. He was supposed to be in bed. After they had returned from the Innleys, he had been sent upstairs. But he was too excited to sleep. The Innleys had built a huge bonfire, and dozens of people had shown up to celebrate midsummer night’s eve. When his mother had drifted off to talk with her friends, Brian had passed him a bottle of beer. His father had seen it, winked at him, and then looked away. And when the sun had set and the fire had died down to the embers, Mr Innley had come over and asked Mark and Brian to sing. Brian said no, he wasn’t good enough to sing with Mark, but ‘my friend Luan is.’ When Luan had protested, Brian had said simply, ‘Do it for me.’

And so Mark and Luan found themselves conferring, trying to find a song both of them knew. Several people called out favourites, but they rejected them all. Finally, Brian said, ‘Sing “Gaoth Barra na dTonn”.’ And they did. They sang it for Brian, Mark felt. The others were just bystanders listening in. The words didn’t fit the season, but they matched what he felt that evening. It was an offering of thanks to the waves and to his brother, and that was all that mattered. And Luan’s voice was as good as promised. His baritone harmonised effortlessly with Mark’s high tenor. When they finished, there was a silence and then some cheers and clapping. Others stepped forward and sang. But none were as good as Mark and Luan.

The day had started badly but it had ended well, he thought. From his bedroom window, he could see down to the bay and the dock where An Ghaoth Gheal was moored. It was too dark to see the boat, but there was a long thin line of darkness against the reflection of the moon in the water and he imagined it was the mast. Over supper, Brian had raved about Mark’s sailing and argued strenuously that he should be allowed to sail alone. Their mother had objected that Mark was too young, but Brian had said, ‘No. He’s the best sailor on these waters, and he needs to be out on sailing every day, in every kind of weather. For the practice. He could bring home a gold medal in the Olympics. He’s that good. But he needs to practice.’ An Ghaoth Gheal, he pointed out, was built to be rigged so that a single person could sail it, and Mark was skilled enough to do that. His father had joined in on Brian’s side. There had been further argument, but it had ended when his father had told his wife that Mark had inherited her father’s talents. That satisfied his mother. She didn’t say yes, but she stopped saying no, and Mark took that as permission. He knew that after he had sailed by himself once, she would not protest.

The conversation was much more relaxed than it had been earlier. Brian was elated about something, and he wouldn’t let anything prevent him from being happy. By the time they left for the Innleys, everyone was laughing with him. Whatever had caused the tension before had disappeared.

Even with the moon, the night was dark below his window. A few fitful glimmerings across the bay betrayed the locations of the remains of other bonfires. Below him a rectangle of light appeared briefly on the ground as the back door of the house was opened and closed. Brian and Luan walked out to the low wall that separated the back garden from the fields beyond. They leaned against it, with their backs to him, standing closely together. The murmuring of their voices came through the open window.

Mark knew that if they turned around and looked up, they would see him at the window, but he was watching over them, not spying on them. That night he was charmed, every power was his. He would protect them and bless them.

The door opened again, and his parents stepped out. Brian and Luan turned around and walked toward them. His father shook Luan’s hand and then his mother kissed him. They repeated the action with Brian. A few words were exchanged and then all of them went back inside. Mark was still puzzling over the incident when he fell asleep.

*****

Mark had been up so late the previous evening that he slept until past seven. When he came downstairs, his parents were talking in the kitchen. He heard his mother say, ‘It’s not what I would choose for him, but Luan seems nice, and he makes Brian happy. I will try to let that be enough and be happy for him.’

As Mark came around the corner into the kitchen, his father started to say something but then stopped when he saw Mark. ‘Oh, you’re up finally. The rest of us have already eaten. There’s some toast left for you. Brian and Luan are down by the boat. They have to leave early this afternoon. Don’t keep them waiting.’

That was all Mark needed to hear. He grabbed a slice of toast and flew out the back door. He could hear his mother calling something after him, but he outsped the words.

His brother and Luan were sitting close together on the storage chest at the end of the dock. When Mark ran down the dock, Brian stood up.

‘I’m sorry to be late. Let’s go.’ Mark started to jump aboard An Ghaoth Gheal, but Brian stopped him.

‘I have something to tell you. Walk with me for a bit. Luan will watch the boat.’

Brian started up the dock to the shore. Mark looked at him and then at Luan. Luan smiled and nodded his head toward Brian. ‘Go with him. It’s important.’

When he caught Brian up, he was seated on a rock overlooking the bay. He had drawn his legs up and was resting his forearms on his knees. He moved over slightly to make a place for Mark to sit.

‘This was one of my favourite spots when I was young. I used to spend my days here watching the boats and dreaming of the time when I could sail one. Sometimes I wish I could go back to that. Things were simpler then. Do you ever feel that way?’

Mark nodded. In truth, he couldn’t wait to be fully grown, but Brian seemed to want agreement. ‘You can always come back here. Once you qualify. It’s big enough to support a doctor. Everyone’s always saying we need a doctor.’

‘No, rural Ireland’s not a place that would tolerate me and Luan very well. We need a different sort of country. Some place like London.’

‘But Luan doesn’t have to be here.’

‘But I have to be with Luan. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. That’s why we’re here. To tell everyone that we have to be together.’

‘I don’t understand.’ Mark shook his head from side to side, trying to chase away the knowledge that was growing inside him.

‘I love him. He loves me. Next month in London we’re going to register a civil partnership and go through a ceremony. Mam and Da and Gran are going to be there. We hope that you and Luan’s parents and family will join us. I would like you to sing for us.’

‘No.’ Mark jumped up and away from Brian. ‘You can’t. It’s a sin.’

‘No, that’s the one thing it’s not.’

‘You’re joking. Stop it. I won’t listen. It’s not funny.’

‘Mark, please, just listen to me. Luan completes me. He’s . . .’

‘Noooooooo.’ Mark ran off blindly, his feet stumbling over the rocks along the shore. He heard Brian chasing after him. He had run only thirty feet when Brian grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him to a stop, wrapping his arms around Mark to keep him from fleeing.

Brian put his hand on the back of Mark’s head and held it tightly against his chest. He rocked back and forth. ‘Please. Don’t run away. I need you.’

Mark pounded his fists against Brian’s back. ‘Let go of me. I hate you. You’re not my brother.’

‘I’m still the same person I always was. I still love you. It’s just that now you know something about me you didn’t before.’

‘Why did you tell me? I didn’t want to know. You can change. We can make everything like before.’ Mark felt his brother stiffen and lift his head. He knew then that Luan had walked up and was standing behind him. ‘Make him go away. I don’t want him here. Just make him go away.’

Mark sprang away from the two of them as his brother released him from his grip. Luan stepped forward and stood beside Brian. The two brothers looked at each other warily, uncertain what to say next. Then Brian put his arm around Luan’s shoulder and pulled him close.

Tears welled up into Mark’s eyes. He started running again. Behind him, he heard Luan say, ‘No, don’t. Let him go. He needs to be by himself for a time.’

Mark turned around and danced furiously in place. The stranger had no right to interfere and tell Brian what to do. ‘I hate you. I hate you. Why did you come here? You don’t belong here.’ Then, sobbing, he ran off, putting more and more distance between himself and Brian and Luan. He could tell that they weren’t following him, but he kept running until he had rounded the next spit of land and was in a rocky cove. He found a place among a pile of boulders where he could hide and there he gave vent to his misery. He cried until his throat ached. The schoolboy words echoed through his mind. All the dirty hateful words. Queer. Faggot. Gay. Perv. All the jokes about that singer in Westlife. The smaning over Captain Jack and Ianto in Torchwood and John and Craig in Hollyoaks. The remarks about the boys that didn’t play football, or the ones that were too good-looking or the ones like himself that didn’t quite fit in. And now his brother was one of those people.

He cried for himself and for finding himself bereft and alone. He cried because he felt tainted and would never be whole again. He was still crying when his father came several hours later. His father stood there silently for a moment and then said, ‘Come, Mark, it’s time for you to come home.’

‘Is he there?’

‘Brian and Luan left several hours ago. They were sad that you weren’t there to say good-bye, but they understood that you had to be alone.’

‘I don’t ever want to see him again. You can’t make me. I won’t.’

‘That will be your decision. However, both Brian and Luan will be welcomed in our house whenever they choose. We won’t change that for you.’

Mark nodded. ‘I’ll go away when they come.’

His father smiled sadly in reply and nodded. ‘Come, your mother’s getting worried. It’s time for supper. You didn’t have much for breakfast and you didn’t eat dinner. You must be hungry.’

The house was silent when he returned. Neither of his parents said anything about his absence or about Brian and Luan. It was as if they had decided to ignore everything that had happened. They talked about the news as they ate and spoke about their plans for the days ahead. Mark sat at the table without saying anything. When they finished, he went up to his room.

He didn’t notice the envelope at first. He threw himself onto his bed and lay there feeling miserable. He took stock of his room. All the sailing paraphernalia on the walls and propped up in the corners. All of it useless to him now. He would never sail again. He knew that. An Ghaoth Gheal was simply a reminder of a brother who had chosen another course.

The patch of whiteness on his desk glowed in the half-dark and seemed much larger than it was. He tried to ignore it, but he couldn’t. His eyes kept coming back to it. He finally gave in and opened the envelope and pulled out the sheet of paper inside. He hoped it contained the news that Brian was renouncing Luan and coming back to him. But he knew even before he read it that it wouldn’t.

‘Dear Mark, I have given my heart to only two people in my life, and you are one of them. It started the day Mam and Da brought you home from hospital and let me hold you for the first time. You were a miracle to me. You still are. There aren’t words to tell you how special you have made me feel over the years since and how important it is to me that you are my brother and that you love and respect me. I know that I have hurt you, but I cannot be other than what I am, and I hope you will understand. Please accept me for what I am. Love, Brian.’

Mark crumpled the piece of paper up and tossed it toward the bin. It bounced off the rim and fell to the floor. He grabbed it up and ripped it to shreds. When he couldn’t tear it into smaller pieces, he stood there with his chest heaving, trying to stifle his sobs so that his parents wouldn’t hear him crying. He frantically began pushing the pieces of the letter about and trying to flatten them and make them whole again. He cried because there wasn’t enough Sellotape in the world to put the letter back together. He cried for troubles that he couldn’t solve. He cried for envy of all the hearts in port, unperturbed by their ignorance of the winds.