Page 147 - Some Dance to Remember

Some Dance to Remember 117

“Sandy doesn’t believe in birth control,” Thom said.
“Too bad,” Ryan said. “I’m beginning to. Also mercy killing.”
“And I don’t believe,” Sandy planted her hooks in forever, “in divorce.”
“But divorce believes in you,” Ryan said. I’m sorry, God, he prayed,
but I can’t at this moment help myself I promise to confess at least ten
venial sins of speaking uncharitably. Then he burst out laughing.
The joke of this marriage had begun.
Thom gave Ryan the look of Death. He had scores to settle, not the
least of which was that Ryan had the audacity to be born first. Ryan, and
Thom hated himself for it, had been Thom’s hero from childhood. “If your
grades are as good as Ry’s,” their parents had promised, “we’ll buy you a
transistor radio too.” They sincerely tried to treat both their boys the same;
but their boys were not the same. Ryan was the curly headed altar boy
who walked in an aura of goodness. Everyone loved Ryan. Even Thom.
But Thom was the only one who suspected Ryan was a shit and maybe a
fag. Falling asleep together in their big double bed, they were parochial
schoolboys cuddling close, their two voices whispering their night prayers
in unison: “God bless mommy and daddy, nannies and grandpas, aunts,
uncles, and cousins. Make us good boys and keep us healthy and safe.” But
Ryan always added a last line: “And make Thommy be better.”
He said it for Thom’s ears only because Thom was his brother and
of your brother you always expect more. Thom knew from the start he’d
never be good enough for Ryan. Nobody would ever be good enough for
Ryan. But goodness was the only game in town. Thom hated himself for
even wanting to be like Ryan. He could only try to compete with the best
little boy in the whole wide world. If Ryan would be a priest, Thom would
be a soldier. One son for the church, one son for the state. His high-school
revenge was to smoke early, drive fast, and marry young.
“Maybe we should say the rosary on the way to the motel,” Annie
Laurie said.
“I hate the rosary,” Margaret Mary said.
“I think we should talk,” Ryan said. “Conversation’s fun, isn’t it?” He
turned his attention to Thom. “Congratulations.”
“For what?”
“Graduating from boot camp. That makes you a man, doesn’t it?”
“I’m so proud of him,” Sandy Gully said. “I’m going to convert to be
a Catholic.”
“That’s nice, dear.” Annie Laurie sounded relieved.
“I’m going to throw up!” Ryan said.
“Watch it!” Thom’s voice imitated the authority of a drill instructor.

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