The Things That Dreams Are Made Of - Blog Story#7

Jason Craig is 28 and has just lost his older brother, Andrew, to cancer. Jason is left with two things; a broken heart and a list of what his brother wishes he had seen or done before he died.

There are only five things on the list and Jason promises Andrew to cross every single one off as completed.

Before he can start on the list though he has to keep one other promise. To track down Andrew's best friend from school, Mark Wesley. And then, just like Andrew wanted, he has to persuade Mark to help him tick off the five items.

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Previous Posts:

POST 1 :: POST 2 :: POST 3 :: POST 4 :: POST 5 :: POST 6

And now... Post 7

Mark decided that nothing much had changed really. The school looked exactly as it had the day he left. He remembered his dad driving away and feeling nothing but numb to it all. Mark was leaving behind the first, and in hindsight, his only real friend. He'd last seen Andrew at the end of second period that day and Andrew had said nothing when they called Mark to the office. He didn’t seem like he'd known a thing about why Mark was suddenly faced with a barrage of questions about his home life. But as the questions from the school nurse and the principal ranged from why Mark was quiet and introverted all the way through to why did Mark have bruises on his back like he had been in a fight. Mark knew then that Andrew had betrayed the trust bestowed on him.

Somehow Andrew had thought that telling the school about what he saw at Mark's house was a good thing. It wasn’t. His dad was called, Mark said nothing, and they left that night. The bullying at the school had been psychological, not physical, but no one would know that the bruises were from his dad's hand, not from the hands of his peers. Andrew was supposed to be the keeper of his secrets but Mark couldn’t feel any of the temper he had then for his friend. All he had now was the overwhelming regret that he had never contacted Andrew and talked it out.

"You okay?" Jason asked softly.

They'd parked the Porsche around the corner in what was demarcated as teacher's parking and walked the short distance to the large sports hall with the banner 'Class of 1997' hung on the side. Mark had the sudden urge to go find his car, climb back in, and get the hell out of Dodge.

"I'm fine," he replied. No sense in spilling exactly what was in his head. He did have one question though. One that maybe Jason knew the answer to. "Did Andrew ever talk about the last few days I was in Coopers Yard?"

"Only that he always said he felt guilty that you'd left. I could never get him to explain why though. I know he felt it big time when you didn’t turn up at school. We biked over to your house but it was empty."

"You both went?" Mark pressed.

"Yeah, you know he could never shake me." Jason laughed and his laughing made Mark smile.

"It wasn’t his fault I left," Mark said. "I wish he'd known that, I wish I had told him."

Jason turned to face him and crossed his arms over his chest. "So why didn’t you tell him? What stopped you from finding him?" Jason didn't appear to be accusing Mark; if anything he just looked puzzled.

"That's a conversation for another day," Mark said. He straightened his spine, pulled back his shoulders, and inhaled deeply of the evening air. "Come on, Stretch, let's get this done so I can get back to LA."

They walked into the ring of light cast by the open doors and Mark stopped again. Jason stayed close; he certainly wasn’t walking ahead. The last time Mark had been cornered had been in this building. Being told to put away gym equipment had left him alone and vulnerable. The teacher couldn’t have known. No one except Andrew knew any of it. Not about liking boys. Not the abuse at home. Not any of it. But still, Ted Krantz and his cronies could see weakness in Mark and God did they use that weakness against him at every turn. With Mark pressed up against the wall, Ted had his hand down his pants and a feral grin on his face. He'd spend time grinding against Mark, telling Mark he wanted it, while the other boys watched. The irony was that no one called Ted on getting off over a boy; that was just carnal lust. No, it was all Mark's fault because that was how that type of bullying evolved.

What if Ted was in there now? What if…

"Mark? You want to leave?"

Jason spoke so softly and Mark cursed that the younger man was even aware anything was wrong. He didn’t allow anyone to 'see him', and now he was stood here like a prize idiot and Jason would see the kid inside that wanted to run. He wasn’t going to run. He couldn’t. He owed it to himself and he owed it to Andrew to honor his dying wish.

"God no," Mark said quickly. "Let's do this thing."

Determined, he stepped inside the hall. The strains of Will Smith's "Gettin' Jiggy Wit It" echoed from behind a curtain and that sound alongside the dusty smells of the hall took him straight back to when he was fifteen. Just inside the door there was a small manned table and Mark didn’t at first recognize the woman sitting behind it. She clearly knew him and by her actions she also seemed to know Jason really well.

"Jason," she said softly. Mark pushed back an irrational stab of jealousy as she came out from behind the table and pulled him into a close hug. "We’re so pleased you came." Jason held her for a long time, his face buried in her long blond hair. "How are you?" she asked. Jason pulled out of the embrace and nodded slowly.

"We're doing okay. Joanna is finding it hard, but she wanted to thank you for your flowers and the card."

"And Harry?"

"He's looking for his dad, but y'know, he's only two so Joanna is trying her best to keep it together around him."

"She'll hear this a lot, J, but, I want to visit, and that isn’t just a platitude."

Mark watched the interaction between the two. The slim blonde who he thought was named Mary or Mya or something starting with an M, had been in his math group. She sat at the front and peered up through thick glasses at the board. She'd been teased, not by Mark or Andrew, but by anyone who noticed the chinks in her armor. Seems she had done well for herself; she was slim, gorgeous, dressed in designer duds, and had a ring with a stone the size of grape on her ring finger.

"Hello, Mark." She held out her hand to Mark who shook it. Her movement away from Jason's embrace revealed the nametag on her jacket. "May Bryant".

"Hello, May," Mark said smoothly.

"We're very pleased you could make it. Jason said he would try and get you to."

"It meant a lot to Andrew that I be here." Mark placed the concession front and center. She may not remember how close he and Andrew had been at school but she would damn well know that Andrew was guiding his actions now.

She leaned over and pulled the sheet of labels from a pack. Taking a pen she hovered over the white sheet. "Sorry I have to hand write it, but we didn't know you'd be here."

"It's fine." And it was entirely fine. He watched her write his name and then peel off the label. She didn’t attempt to stick it on him, simply passed it to him and then observed as he placed in on his upper right chest. She gave Jason a nametag as well and with a gesture encouraged them past and through the curtains that had been placed there to mark the entrance.

Will Smith had finished and the delights of Matchbox 20 and "Push" now filled the hall decorated with party lights and another huge banner inside. Fifteen years and it was like yesterday. The door to the sports supplies closet was covered with boards festooned with photos. He imagined that he and Andrew would be somewhere on there and resolved to make a pass by to look.

"Drink?" Jason asked. He walked towards the small informal bar area, which was manned by two young men dressed in black pants and white shirts. Beers in hand, they turned their backs to the bar and faced out into a sea of some hundred faces. Mark took a healthy swallow of beer and focused intently on the people closest to them. He recognized some, but to be honest, with Cooper's Yard in the rearview mirror he'd only ever taken memories of Andrew, Jason, and humiliation with him. He wondered what some of these people did for a living and he must have said something out loud because Jason answered.

"Couple lawyers, an architect, several homemakers, but those are the ones that stayed in the area. A lot moved to the City or scattered over the US. I think Billy McMahon came over from where he was living in Hawaii somewhere."

Someone noticed the two men and they nudged a couple more folks. Mark cringed. Were they looking because their dead school mate's brother was here or because they wanted to acknowledge Mark? When the first small group made their way over it became obvious that it was a combination of the two that drove them. They would all be inquisitive. Andrew was dead and Jason was here in his place. Mark was a runaway who was now a soap star. They both ticked the boxes for 'talking piece' at this gathering.

Without meaning to, Jason and Mark got split up, and with each step to another group Mark lost sight of Jason in the ever-moving crowd. He excused himself from the latest group and sidled up to the wall of photos. Someone had thoughtfully placed a small spot lamp so that light was cast over the corner and it was easy to see the progression from year to year in the images. He easily located Andrew; damned kid was in the Debate team, Chess Club, Model Business Club, even the Model UN club. Then right at the bottom there was an image of him. Looking pale and short and ever so slightly geeky, he was pictured with five girls and Andrew. He remembered the club he was photographed in with a groan. The baking team was something he was damn good at, although it was yet another piece of ammunition for Ted to tease him about. At least he and Andrew got good cakes and cookies out of it.

"It’s Mark isn’t it? Little Mark Wesley?" Mark straightened from where he was bent over and turned with a ready smile on his face. He was getting used to this chatting easily—or rather lying—about old times. The man in front of him was tall with dark hair and carried an amount of extra weight that softened his features and caused a small belly to spill over his pants belt. He was grinning and holding out a hand to shake Mark's. Mark didn’t need to read the badge to know who it was.

Ted Krantz.