Tommy was lost. He was lost in his feet and lost in his heart and lost in his own stupid head. “Stupid” was a bad word. Mom said it was a bad word and if anyone said it around Tommy she would get her angry face with the little crinkle between her eyebrows. But Tommy knew sometimes he was stupid and today was one time for sure.
It wasn't fair. Because he'd thought this was going to be a pretty-good-almost-perfect day. It was music day. On music day he stayed behind at school after class. He went to the library and stayed until four-thirty. He watched the clock carefully and he knew four-thirty. He'd been able to tell time since he was ten. It was super easy.
Then at four-thirty he went to Mr. Conner's music room. And he could take out his flute then. No playing in the library, because that was a quiet time place, but in the music room, oh yes, he could play. Mr. Connor said so. Tommy loved Mr. Connor and he loved his flute. It was the one thing he did that was never, never stupid. Even Suzie with the blond hair once said he was good on the flute, and she didn't say he was good at much. So it must be true.
An hour with Mr. Connor and the flute, with music just coming out of Tommy like it wasn't part of him, but it was. He did that. He was practicing this new piece that sang so nicely. Mr. Connor said Tommy could play it at the spring assembly concert and people would be amazed. It would be nice to make people amazed.
Then it was have-to-go-now put-the-flute-away-carefully time. And Tommy started to walk home. That was easy too; he never got lost anymore, even when it got kind of dark because it was late. But now he was lost.
It was the fault of the candles. He'd been walking home just like usual. And two girls went by carrying candles. They weren't lit but they were tall and white and Tommy liked candles. And then he could see there were lights in the distance like lots more candles. And maybe it was a birthday. A big birthday. So he followed the girls.
They got to where the lights were and it was a park and there were lots of people with their candles all lit. And the girls lit theirs. And it was so pretty, all the flames bright and yellow. But the people weren't happy like a birthday. They were all sad. One of the girls started crying. It made Tommy feel bad in his stomach. He walked away from them to find happy people.
But none of the people were happy. They weren't all crying but Tommy was good at faces and they all had sad faces and low, not-happy voices. He kept walking, and his heart got lost. And then he looked around and his stupid, stupid self was lost too. And he wanted to cry too, but big boys don't cry. Except he looked around and there were some boys crying and some of them were even bigger than Tommy.
And then he saw one of the crying boys and it was his brother, Darryl! Tommy ran. He ran and he got to Darryl and he dropped his precious flute and just wailed, “Darryl!”
Darryl hugged him. Darryl's arms were big and strong and he hugged Tommy hard and Tommy put his face on Darryl's chest. Darryl was saying something like, “Tommy, what are you doing here?” But Tommy couldn't tell him. His throat had the sad closing thing and he just had to cry. And Darryl held him tight and rocked him back and forth and let him cry.
After a bit it was better and Tommy looked up at his brother. “I'm lost.”
“It's okay, bro. You can come home with me.”
So that was okay. Darryl never got lost. But the people weren't okay. Tommy looked around. “It's so sad, Darryl. Everyone is so sad. Candles are for happy but they all feel so bad.
“Yes, they do.” Darryl's voice sounded funny and lumpy.
Tommy looked closely at his brother. “You're sad too. You're my brother and I want you to be okay and have nice times.”
Darryl gave him a squeeze. “Don't worry about it, bro. I'll be better soon.”
That should have been good, because Darryl always, always told Tommy the truth. But then someone with a microphone said something and Darryl's shoulders shook and the girls near them were crying and it wasn't okay.
“It's not fair!” Tommy knew his voice was loud because Darryl winced a bit, like he did sometimes. But when Tommy felt bad he couldn't help the loud. “It's not fair. It shouldn't be bad. People shouldn't cry and feel bad. It's not fair.”
“Come on.” Darryl tried to make Tommy walk away.
But he felt like his feet were stuck in the ground. Somebody needed to LISTEN. “It's not FAIR!”
“No, it's not.” That was a different voice. It was a nice voice, deep and furry and big. Like a teddy bear voice. But when Tommy turned to look at who was talking, it was a man, not a teddy bear. A nice-looking man, with curly short hair and big shoulders and he was bigger even than Darryl. He had a smile on his face. He didn't look sad, even though he had a sadness candle in his hand. He looked okay. Tommy managed to stop crying.
The big man said to Darryl, “Hi. We met last week, at the bookstore. I don't know if you remember.”
“Yeah, I do.” Darryl's voice was softer. “Your phone rang and you ran away like there was a fire.”
“No fire, but my sister's car broke down in a bad part of town. I had to go get her. I've kicked myself all week for not getting your last name or phone number or something.”
“His name is Darryl,” Tommy said helpfully. “He's sad, though. Everybody is sad. These are bad candles.”
The man looked at the candle in his hand
Darryl said, “My brother has Down Syndrome. He doesn't understand.”
“Sounds like he has the basic gist,” the man said. “What's his name?”
“Tommy.”
The man came a step closer and looked at Tommy in his eyes. He had nice dark eyes. Young man eyes, not old and smart like Mr. Conner, but nice. He said, “Tommy, a bad thing happened and people are sad. But the candles will help. You watch. Come on, let's walk over there to the hill where we can see.”
He turned and walked away from the sad people toward the hill where it was dark and quieter. Darryl put an arm around Tommy, and turned that way too.
“My flute!” Tommy bent and picked it up and opened the case to make sure it was okay. Then he let Darryl steer him toward hill. From up on the hill the candles looked more better again, so pretty and flickery.
“Now watch,” the new man said. “People will put their sadness in the candles and let it burn, and then when they blow out the candles the sadness will be gone.”
“Really?” Tommy looked down the hill. The man with the speaker was all done. And the teddy bear man was right. Because all around the park people started blowing out their candles. Just out, out, out, and then they were walking. And some were hugging each other, which was good. And the ones who were walking had stopped crying. The new man was right. The sad was going away. Tommy turned to the smart man. “Can you make Darryl's sad go away too? He doesn't have a candle.”
The man held his own candle out. “He can blow out mine. I'm not so sad since I met Darryl here.”
Darryl stepped over close to him. They looked at each other. The candle light was flickery in both their eyes, the new man's dark ones, and Darryl's blue eyes. Then Darryl bent a little and puffed and the fire went out. Just a little red tip was left and it was pretty and glowy in the soft dark.
“Do you feel better now, Darryl?” Tommy asked hopefully.
“Yeah,” Darryl said, and he was still looking at the new man.
“Good. That's good.” Tommy looked at him too. “You're a good man. I like you.”
“My name is Chris.”
“Hi Chris. I'm Tommy.” He held out his hand like he was supposed to.
Chris shook his hand and did it nice and not too hard like some people did. “Very nice to meet you, Tommy.”
“So now you should come with us, and bring the good candle. Darryl is better so you should come and walk with us.”
“You don't have to,” Darryl said quickly. “We're good now, thank you.”
“I want to.” The man laughed. “How can I turn down the chance to find out where you live?”
“I'll show you,” Tommy volunteered. Then he realized, “Darryl, m
y feet are still lost.”
“This way.” Darryl walked down the other side of the hill. Tommy followed happily. Chris was walking on the other side of Darryl and they were talking. Tommy didn't really listen, but he heard bits of it.
“...wasn't even sure you were gay, but I'm glad...”
“...first year pre-med. You're a senior?”
“...turn nineteen in August... at Sparky's is eighteen-plus on Saturday...”
Tommy wasn't sure what they were talking about but it was okay. They had nice happy voices, the clear music voice that was Darryl and the soft fuzzy voice that was Chris, the teddy bear man. Tommy felt his heart get un-lost again. And then his feet were un-lost too. “Hey, I know where we are! This is our street. Chris, this is our street. And that's our house, right there. Will you come to our house?”
“Maybe not tonight.”
“You should come. Darryl likes you too. He's happy. And I like your shirt.”
Chris had a nice smile. “You do?”
“Yes.” Tommy reached out and touched it. The shirt was all rainbow color. It had words on it. “No” and an “H” and an “8”. Tommy could read pretty well. Teacher had once said he read “almost at great level” and was amazing. This shirt was pretty simple. And the letters were white and shiny. Tommy reached out and touched the 8 with a finger. It was slick and shiny. But oops. “Sorry. No touching. Mom says no touching people unless they say okay.”
“It's okay.” Chris ran his own finger over the letters. “I like this one too, and I don't mind if you touch.” The shirt was all tight and pretty on Chris.
“I like it too,” Darryl said.
Tommy looked at his big brother. Darryl wasn't sad, not any more at all. He was looking at Chris and smiling and he looked happy. Chris was smiling too.
And Tommy decided he had been right this morning after all. It was a pretty-good-almost-perfect day.
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In an Orange Glow
~Picture prompt: The smooth, calm surface of the sea reflects the brilliant sky, a wash of gold and orange light across the scene. Side by side, thigh-deep in the water, silhouetted against the glow, two young women hold hands and face the light.