The Road to Amazing (11 page)

"Well, is it okay if we use the park
without a permit?" I asked. "We only have thirty guests." Yes, I
was lying a bit.

If she was a cat, now I was the mouse.
"Do it and you're looking at a thousand-dollar fine," she said.
"And don't think they don't patrol the parks on Sundays, because
they do!"

"But what about the Vashon Groove?" I
blurted. At this point, what did I have to lose?

Naturally, she slammed her car door in
my face.

CHAPTER SIX

Back in the car, Kevin did a pretty
good imitation of the dead orca: he was saggy and lifeless, like
another mound of wet towels sitting in the seat next to
me.

I felt bad too, but with Kevin so
down, I wanted to go on being the non-freaked-out one — the
supportive boyfriend who keeps saying that everything will work out
in the end.

"Maybe we could do it at my parents'
house," I said. "The wedding, I mean."

"Back on the mainland?" Kevin
said.

"Well, yeah," I said, even
as I was thinking:
What would my mom think
of that?
She'd never been supportive of my
being gay, and like I said about churches, who wants to hold a
wedding in a place where you're sort of grudgingly tolerated? It
also wasn't a very big house. Would it even
fit
that many people? Kevin's
parents' house was even smaller.

Still, what was the
alternative? Cancel the wedding? I already mentioned how the
ceremony itself was kind of a formality. All we really needed was
for Min to sign a piece of paper, and then we'd be married. But
what about what Kevin had said the night before about how a wedding
was a chance for a couple to tell their friends how much they loved
each other? If we didn't have an actual ceremony, would anyone
take
us
seriously?

Kevin didn't answer, just turned and
stared out the window again.

* * *

When we got home, we all climbed out
of the car and headed for the house. But while the others
disappeared inside, I lingered outside with Kevin.

"What do you want to do?" I asked
him.

"You mean should we cancel?" he
said.

I nodded. "It's early enough that we
could send out an email."

Kevin sniffed the air. "Do you smell
that?"

"I know, I know. Look, I really think
we should make a decision."

"No, seriously." Kevin looked at me.
"Smell the air."

I took a whiff, but I didn't smell
anything.

I looked at Kevin quizzically. Then I
let myself feel the tiniest smidgen of hope.

We entered the house. Everyone was out
on the deck, clustered at the edge of it, looking down on the
beach. The door to the outside was open, but I still couldn't smell
any dead whale.

We joined our friends on the
deck.

Yup, still no dead whale
smell.

I looked back at Kevin, who looked
confused, but more hopeful than ever.

Our friends were turning to us — Min,
Otto, Nate, and Ruby — smiles plastered on their faces.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"It's gone," said Min.

"The whale?"

Everyone nodded, even as they
smirked.

Kevin and I hurried to the edge of the
deck, scanning the beach below us. There was an indention in the
rocks and sand, a big one, but no orca.

"Was it the tide?" Kevin asked. It had
definitely come in a bit.

But no one seemed to know.

Behind us, Vernie stepped out onto the
porch. "You're back," she said. "How did it go?"

"Vernie!" I said. "What happened to
the whale?"

"Whale?"

"It's gone!"

"It
is
? That's wonderful! I didn't see,
I was in taking a nap."

Gunnar appeared next to Vernie on the
deck. He was carrying a shoebox full of shelf fungus that he'd
apparently collected in the woods outside the house.

"Did you know that before 1969, fungi
were considered part of the plant kingdom?" he said. "Now, of
course, they're considered their own kingdom, because they're
completely different from plants. In a lot of ways, they're
actually more like animals, absorbing their food using digestive
enzymes."

I was immediately
suspicious.

"Gunnar," I said, "what happened to
the whale on the beach?"

He looked confused, but only for a
second. "Oh, I got rid of it." He glanced at Min. "And don't worry,
I did move it farther down the beach, to a place where there aren't
any houses, so it wouldn't bother anyone."

"But...
how
?" she said.

It wasn't often that I saw
Min speechless, but I couldn't really appreciate it, because I was
speechless too. We all were. We'd seen the orca — we'd
touched
it. We'd all
been convinced it was impossible to move.

Gunnar offered us an indifferent
shrug. "Don't worry about it. It's all taken care of, and
everything is okay. Think of it as my wedding gift to you guys. I
wanted to make sure the ceremony went off okay."

With that, he turned and went inside
to categorize his fungi.

* * *

I knew it was pointless to try and get
Gunnar to tell us how he'd moved the whale. He acted like he was
indifferent about the whole thing, but I think some part of him was
enjoying our confusion. Back in school, he'd been teased and
bullied a lot for being different. Since then, he'd decided to own
his weirdness, and I think he'd also come to enjoy confounding
people. He'd sort of made it his personal brand.

A few minutes later, I found Kevin in
our bedroom sitting on the bed.

I closed the door behind me. "You
okay?" I said.

"I'm sorry I freaked out back there,"
he said. "I actually thought we might have to cancel the
wedding."

I sat down next to him. "Can I just
say how glad I am that for the first time in our relationship,
you're being the neurotic one? Is this like with Gunnar — your
wedding gift to me?"

Kevin didn't smile. He was seriously
upset about this.

I scooted closer so our hips were
purposely touching. We'd turned the heat off in the bedroom when we
left that morning, and now I could feel the warmth of his
body.

"You didn't freak out," I
said. "Or if you did, it was a good thing. It makes me happy that
you're taking our wedding so seriously. But here's why
I didn't freak out. The wedding itself doesn't
matter. I love you, and I'm going to spend the rest of my life with
you. And I don't need a piece of paper, or a ceremony, or anything
at all to know that."

"I know. I feel the same way.
But..."

"What?" He didn't answer, so I said,
"Come on, tell me."

"I don't know why I want us to have an
actual wedding, or why I want it to be perfect, but I do." He
thought for a second. "Do you remember that story Gunnar told about
my introducing myself to the class back in the seventh
grade?"

I nodded.

"I was telling the truth when I said
it was all an act," he said. "I was terrified."

"I bet. Joining a new school in the
middle of the year? I wouldn't wish that on my enemy." I'd always
hated it when adults mocked kids' problems. Years later, I still
remembered exactly how difficult the seventh grade was, and
whenever adults made fun of that, it always seemed to me to be yet
another kind of cruelty.

"But it all worked out," I said. "No
one knew you were nervous, and you went on to be the most popular
kid in class."

"It didn't work out. It was a
disaster."

I looked at him.

"Sure, I was popular," he
said, "but only because I lied about who I was. I played sports and
told jokes and flirted with all the girls, including the teachers.
But I was a gay kid with a crush on Mr. Johnson, and an eye on the
cute redheaded boy over by the window." This made me smile, because
I
had
sat by the
window in the seventh grade. Kevin hadn't been lying the night
before when he said he noticed me. "I was terrified that someone
would figure it out. I don't think I ever relaxed the whole time I
was in school, not until I finally talked to you in the park that
night all those years later."

I nodded again. Kevin made a good
point: just because something looks perfect, that doesn't mean it
is.

"Our wedding isn't the same thing," I
said.

"I know. But these last few years have
been so crazy. First, I break up with Colin. Then my career goes
completely to shit."

I couldn't help feeling guilty about
this. Kevin had broken up with Colin because of me (long story).
His career had gone to shit because of me too — because I'd wanted
to move to Los Angeles to pursue my dream of
screenwriting.

Kevin saw on my face what I was
thinking.

"None of it is your fault," he said.
"I don't regret any of it, not at all. If I had to do it over
again, I wouldn't change a thing."

Except for the way it
ended with Colin
, I thought. I knew Kevin
was thinking this too. Neither of us had acted very nobly
there.

"But sometimes it sort of
feels like my life has spun out of my control," Kevin said, "like
the things that happen aren't ever what I expect them to be. So
then came this wedding, and I thought, 'Finally! Something I
can
control.'"

"You know they literally
say that's not true about weddings, right? That you can plan them,
but you can't
control
them. That to enjoy them, you have to sort of let them
go."

"I know! All this is stupid, I know
that."

"It's not stupid. It makes sense. In
fact, I know exactly what you're talking about. I had an image of
this weekend too."

Kevin looked at me.

"You know how I wanted our good
friends here all weekend?" I said. "I guess I thought they'd come,
and they'd all be these adoring little puppies, perfectly arranged
for us to pet and coo over. It didn't occur to me that they all
have their own lives, their own things going on, their own
concerns."

And Kevin
too
, I thought. I hadn't expected him to
be so distracted this weekend.

"But maybe it's better
this way," I went on. "We're spending the weekend with real people,
not fantasies. The truth is, we
don't
know what's going to happen.
But I stand by what I said before: in the end, I think it'll all
work out."

Kevin kept looking at me, but now his
eyes were like windows with no curtains or blinds. I could see far
enough inside to tell that he was impressed.

"Have I mentioned how much I like
you?" he said.

"You have. But not lately."

"I like you."

"How much on a scale of one to
ten?"

"Fifty zillion."

I considered this for a second. "I
guess that'll do."

* * *

Later, Ruby found some kayaks and
wetsuits — Puget Sound was too cold to swim in without a wetsuit
even in summer, much less autumn. I wasn't sure where Ruby had
found the equipment. Out in the garage? I didn't remember Christie
saying anything about any kayaks, but if they hadn't been locked
up, I had to assume they were okay to use. Ruby invited everyone
back down to the beach to give them a go, which did sound fun.
Plus, I wanted to check and make sure the whale hadn't somehow
floated back.

I looked at Vernie, seated in the
living room. "Whaddaya say?" I asked her.

"Oh, you go," she said. She nodded to
her Kindle. "I'm right in the middle of a good book."

I felt guilty that it seemed like
Vernie wasn't really fitting in with everyone else. Had I made a
mistake by inviting her for the whole weekend?

"Nah," I said, "I think I'll hang out
up here too."

By now, everyone else had
mostly left for the beach, and Vernie said, "Oh, please! You
are
not
staying
behind to babysit me."

"I'm
not
," I said. "I thought of another
idea for a single-location script, and I wanted your
opinion."

Vernie glared at me. "I don't believe
you."

"Well, it's true. Let me get a cup of
tea, and I'll tell you all about it."

I went into the kitchen,
but mostly I was stalling for time. I
had
stayed behind to keep Vernie
company, and I
didn'
t have another single-location screenplay idea.

I returned to the front room with two
cups of steeping tea — and absolutely no idea what I was going to
say.