The Earth Begins to Sway || Falsettos

The Kings

I've become one of Mendel's regular patients. No shame in that, right? I mean, it's not great that it took a near risk of my life to start opening up, but I'm scared for the other possible outcomes from that night.

Problems aren't reversible, so I need to stop pretending they are and start working at fixing what's happened. 

And I know that more than five years ago I told my parents I didn't need to see a psychiatrist, and I don't believe I did, but now I'm not refusing. If I didn't live with one, I'm not sure what would've happened. After all, I'd been looking for him when Mom and I talked.

Oh, no, not more rambling. I've done that too often. I just find it hard to explain myself sometimes. Anyway, my sixteenth birthday arrives, and I decide to enter the cemetery for the first time in two months.

"So..." I say quietly, addressed to both Dad and Whizzer. "Breaking the fourth wall between life and death—y'know, talking to you—hasn't worked out well for me, so maybe I should move on.

"I'm not saying I should forget you. I'm just saying there were so many times that I was doing just fine, but got torn down again like that." I snap my fingers as an indication. "And perhaps holding on is making it worse."

Silence. Well, of course. Like, they're dead. "Should I stop treating you like you're alive? I don't know. My one wish was to grow up with you two in my life, and that's been crushed. Is... is it that crazy to hold on?"

I can't believe I'm starting to reconsider. This has been unhealthy, at worst. But it helps me cope.

"I think I've been drawing a nice line, though. It's all realistic, of course. I'm not actually pretending..."

I trail off. I think about how I kept but didn't wear any of their clothes from the box. Why? Did I think they were going to come back to reclaim their stuff? How I would feel bitter when they didn't respond to me, when I'd brought that on myself.

I sigh. "Okay. I do need to start doing better."

The first thing I do is set the baseball down by Whizzer's grave again. "You can have this back," I tell him. "I just need to keep in mind that it's not going to affect you either way. Nothing's affected you since AIDS."

It's upsetting, but it's real. And let's hope that the much-needed help I receive can overpower the harshness. The last thing I want is...

Anyway. I stand back to look at them as a whole. The two gravestones, the kings still there. The white king on Whizzer's since he's a white king, and the black king on Dad's because it matched up with Whizzer's. I smile. For the very first time, instead of grief, I feel comfort at this sight.

I stay for a while, reflecting on my past. Sure, I still miss Rose, but I'll try my best to find her in the future. And when I do, I'll tell her how much I really appreciated her friendship. And that I'm sorry I let it get out of hand. Rosemary Wilson. I'll keep that name in mind.

But in the meantime, I have Charlotte and Cordelia. I wouldn't change godparents for the world. I love them.

And of course I love Mom and Mendel. It's so dumb, but every time I remember they're here for me, and how deeply they're set on that, I'm in tears.

And here's what I have left of my dads, what I'm looking at right now. I'm grateful for the amazing relationships I had with them. So much progress. Miles. We're such a tight-knit family, aren't we?

Finally feeling secure for some unknown reason, I start to walk home.