Life Through Lenses (Second Try)

(I re-wrote this because I didn't like it the first time)

Life Through Lenses

Kissing is a funny thing. It’s even funnier when you factor in that my kissing-partner and I are sitting in the freezing cold of a mid-summer storm over-cast, with my sister watching on bemusedly with a camcorder. Oh yeah, and the fact that we’re both guys. That’s a little funny too…but not the ha-ha way, but in the “uh…yeah” kind of funny way.
I suppose I should explain. Because right now you’re thinking, “Oh god, this kid is a homo, argh.” But I’m seriously not. At least, I don’t think I am. I’m at the adolescent stage where I am kind of willing to try and experience new things. But Ben isn’t. He’s waaaaaay past that. He’s full-fledged gay…well, maybe not “full-fledged”. I’m pretty sure he’s still a virgin, but he is well aware of what turns him on, and that thing is boys. Not boys, but men, really. He’s tried to explain to me what it is that turns him on about guys, but after a few minutes I can’t hear anymore and start to tune him out. I’m sorry, I’m already rambling, and not explaining very well at all.
Anyway, as I said, I’m not really gay. So why am I kissing my best friend, Ben, of some ten-odd years? Well, we’re making a movie. Hence my sister, Becca, recording all of this. We have done this every summer since the 8th grade when my Mom (rest her soul) gave me my first camcorder for my birthday. This summer is a little different though. Becca, who is usually my starlet, refused to act for me. She said she had better things to do (and yet she is willing to play camera-person? Whatever, Becca. Whatever), and wouldn’t star for me. Sooooo, Ben had a script; a little unorthodox script, even for us.
Our previous movies had been something of my own writing. Basically, I’ve been using the tragedy of my Mom’s death for inspiration for far too long. Ben wanted to do something fresh. We tried for a little while to get new actors, but as it turns out…Ben and I don’t really have many other friends. So, we ended up conning (well, she volunteered actually) Becca into playing camera man, while I continued to direct, and Ben was my main actor, while I played the supporting role.
We’re almost done filming. We’re on the last minute of the film actually… All we have to do is lean in and plant one on each other. But as I said…kissing is a funny thing.
“Oh my god Riley; just fucking kiss me,” Ben was starting to get frustrated. We had gone through this about six times already. Every time I looked back at what Becca had shot, I shook my head. I knew this was my fault. I wasn’t feeling the kiss. These characters were supposed to be starting a brand new romance. Shifting from the best friends role to that of lovers. Or at least boyfriends. And, I didn’t have anything to compare that with…Ben and I weren’t like that, and I hadn’t really dated much. Ben dated more girls then I did lately, what with his Mom not believing he was gay.
“I’m sorry,” I sighed. “I just don’t get it!”
“What is there to get?” Ben sighed, shaking his head. “It is fucking cold out side, I am so totally ready to tell you to fuck yourself and leave. Why do you have to be such a damn perfectionist?”
“Ben, this is the last scene of our movie! This is going to like…make or break the movie!”
“What are you talking about? No one is going to see this movie but the three of us!” Ben argued.
“You don’t know that! If it’s really good, maybe I’ll send it out for a contest, or post it on the internet!”
“You post this on the internet and I will be so pissed.”
I got up, stretching my back. My butt was sore from sitting on the fallen tree in the clearing of Jack Henson’s pasture. Behind us, there were a couple of cows grazing moodily, staring as us as though we had like “stolen their spot” or something.
“Maybe we should call it a day?” Becca suggested, “This camera is getting heavy.”
“No, no…one more time.” I shook my head, sitting back down. “If we don’t get it this time, we can call it a day. Lets try and get one more try in before it rains though.”
I took a deep breath. I knew what I wanted to see in this scene. I had to get into that mind-over-matter frame of mind. Yeah, I was kissing Ben, but he wasn’t really Ben. And I wasn’t really Riley. We were two unnamed people, who were just realizing for the first time that we loved the other, and they felt the same way.
The lines went easily, and I hesitated for a moment. Mind over fucking matter, Riley! I reminded myself. As though I were another person, my hands came up to Ben’s face, and I pulled him forward and kissed him. He seemed surprised, and his hands came up to rest on my wrists. Becca coughed. We had held on for a little longer then necessary. I turned red, and pulled my hands away from Ben’s face, getting back up from the tree.
“So, how’d it look?”
“Good,” Becca nodded. She handed off the camera to me, flexing her arm. “That thing is heavy. Are we done for the day?”
I nodded, shutting the camera off without even looking. I could still feel Ben’s mouth on mine, and kind of freaked me out, “Yeah, lets get out of here.” I packed the camera up in bag, and swung it over my shoulder.
Ben stretched as he got up from the tree, “You okay? You look kind of…weird.”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I could feel my face flush again. “I think I’m going to start editing tonight. You guys cool with that? Maybe we’ll have this done before Becca leaves next week.”
“Awesome.” Ben nodded. “You want me to stay home tonight then? Let you work your cinematic-magic?”
I shrugged. I wasn’t sure how I felt about sleeping in the same room with Ben now. Even though we had been doing so almost every night for the last two and a half months.
“Yeah, you can come over. It’s not a big deal.” We started walking towards the gate to head back into town. The walk back home wasn’t long, and Ben departed almost instantly, getting behind the wheel of his bright yellow mustang that was older then he was.
“You sure you’re OK?” Becca yawned, unlocking the front door. “I agree with Ben, you look a little peaked.”
“I’m fine,” I shook my head. “I just can’t believe I spent my day off from hell macking on Ben.”
“Yeah…I have no comment on that. Anyway, I better get ready for work, ‘cause unlike you, I actually do have to work today.” Becca rolled her eyes.
“K. See you later.” I disappeared into my lair, a.k.a. my bedroom, and unpacked my camera to start editing on my computer.
A couple of hours later, I heard the familiar rumble of my Dad’s truck parking in the driveway. I mentally groaned. Lately after work, he had been going out and getting drunk at the bar before meandering his way home after dark. I was relieved he had finally lain off telling me to quitting with my “stupid film shit” now that I had gotten a job at one of the local dives as a waiter.
The door leading from the outside to the kitchen slammed shut. I remained where I was. Let the Beast roam the house. He didn’t need to know where I was. Unfortunatly, he must have realized that I was home because he knocked a few minutes later.
“Riley, you in there?” Dad’s bark was worse then his bite, so to speak. He had a loud, booming kind of voice, that given the right tone would either impress or scare the pants off of you. When he spoke up at his job, foreman at one of the local factories, he never used to use a microphone or a foghorn. One shrill whistle, and a place in the center of the action and everyone could hear what he said. You never wanted to be to close when he opened his mouth.
“Yeah, what’s up? Doors open.” I tried to remain cordial, even though in my mind I was saying Go away, go away, go away.
The door swung open, and Dad filled the doorway with his broad shoulders, “Is there dinner?”
“Umm, I didn’t make anything ‘cause I wasn’t really that hungry, but I can if you want me too.” I offered, turning away from my computer. I didn’t really pay attention to what was on my screen. That was a mistake.
“What the hell is that?” Dad stepped into the room, turning my chair back so we were both facing the computer screen. “Is that you and Ben?”
“Oh, uh…we finished filming today.”
“So you kissed him? Are you two some kind of couple and you didn’t tell me?”
“No!” I insisted. “It’s just part of the movie –Ben wrote it.”
“I don’t care that your friend is a flaming fag, Riley. Don’t go showing this shit to anyone. I don’t want anyone thinking a son of mine is a fucking queer.” He pushed on my chair, sending me into my desk a little more roughly then he probably intended. He didn’t say anything has he straightened up. “I’m going out.” The door slammed behind me, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Not long after the roar of Dad’s truck leaving the garage again, Ben’s mustang pulled up to the curb outside of the house. It wasn’t long before he was breathing down my neck as well. His hands were on my shoulders, which is something I probably should have been comfortable with by now, but today for some reason I wasn’t.
“Do you mind not leaning on me, Ben?” I asked, brushing his hands from my shoulders. “You’re kind of hindering my ability to point-and-click.”
“Oh, sorry man,” he backed away to sit on the edge of my double-bed. “So, I saw your Dad’s truck leaving as I was turning on the street. He looked kind of pissed.”
“Yeah…he thinks I’m gay.”
Ben looked amused, “Why?”
“He saw this,” I pulled up the still-frame of our kiss.
“Snap! We look hot!” Ben was up again, his breath warm against my neck. “Is the footage as good as the still?”
“Yeah, it’s a good shot. Becca, though her arm strength is apparently much to be desired, can hold a camera pretty steady.” I selected it to play, and we both watched the scene until the breakaway when Becca’s throat-clearing brought us back to attention. “I’ll have to edit it down, of course.”
“Yeah. It’s a little long. You got nervous and held on that long, or did you really like it that much?” Ben’s eyebrow rose, questioningly.
“Shut up!” I insisted, pushing him away from the back of my chair again. “Go sit down. Cripes.” He laughed, taking his seat on the bed again. He reached for the remote, and watched the news while I continued to edit.
Over the next few days, I noticed that Dad’s stays at home were getting longer and longer. He’d bring home a case of beer and drink in the living room, watching action flicks on cable rather then going out to the bar and watching the game. He also made inadvertent trips upstairs while Ben was over. I finally figured out what he was up to when he disrupted our game of Guitar Hero for the fourth time, when he mentioned his way out: “Why don’t we keep this door open, hm?”
At first Ben didn’t get it.
“Are you sure the noise isn’t going to bother you, Mr. Butters?” He wrinkled his eyebrows, which even I thought had to be the cutest facial expression ever seen on Ben. “I mean, this game gets pretty loud, we don’t want to disrupt your movie.”
“Not a problem,” Dad assured him.
After he was gone, I sighed and got up to shut the door, “Don’t you get it, Ben? He thinks we’re like sexing it up or something.”
“I hardly call video games with you a sexing opportunity, Riley.” Ben rolled his eyes. “I’m not even attracted to you. Ick.”
“…Thanks Ben, that helped my self-esteem so much.”
“I didn’t mean it that way, and you know it.” Ben shook his head, setting down the guitar after he had failed again. “Besides, why would your Dad think we were doing something up here? I mean, besides rockin’ it out.”
“I could say so many things to follow that up…” I shook my head. “Look, he’s obviously not OK with my movie, and now he think that the two of us are an item.”
“And I’m saying that you’re being ridiculous.”
“I am not being ridiculous, I am simply telling you that that is what his problem is.” I sat back down, and wasn’t surprised when there was a knock again a few minutes later.
“Yeah?” I actually got up to answer the door this time.
“Didn’t I ask you to keep the door open?”
I sighed, “Look Dad, I’m not really sure what your problem is. Ben and I are just trying to—”
“I just asked you to keep the door open. I didn’t ask for your life’s story, Riley.”
I held back the grumble, “Are you going to tell me what your real problem is, or are we just going to keep ignoring the fact that you’ve become a fag-hating alcoholic?”
My head had never turned so fast as it did when Dad’s hand connected with the side of my face. Behind me, Ben gasped a little. Dad may have been many things, but he had never hit his children before. Even I was a little surprised. Luckily, the redness of my cheek hid the blush that crept up my neck.
“Now say that again,” Dad dared me.
I looked up at him. I could play it cool. I could tell him what he wanted to hear –that I hadn’t said anything, that I would keep the door open like he asked. Or I could be the idiot that I was and repeat myself.
“I asked if we were ignoring the part about you becoming a fag-hating alcoholic.”
“You know, boy, I don’t know what pisses me off more. That you have the gall to use that kind of tone with me, or that you’re calling me an alcoholic.”
“Well you are!” I countered, “Becca and I have barely ever seen you for the last four years since Mom died because you’re wallowing in your own self pity at the bar. Now you think I’m gay and you want to make sure that Ben and I aren’t consummating anything. I’m not gay. We made a movie and I had to kiss him. Actors do it all of the time.” I was waiting for him to slap me again, to make me shut up, but I just kept going and he let me. “Between work and drinking, you aren’t there for either of us. Becca got a job just to stay out of the house. I got a job this summer just to make you shut up because I was tired of you nagging me about it all of the time about how I was never going to amount to anything as a film maker. You aren’t even making an effort anymore to be our father. You’re just this guy that lives in our house, and occasionally remembers to leave out some cash to buy groceries.”
“Is that really what you think?” He asked.
I took a moment before I nodded, “Yeah. That’s really what I think.”
I waited for him to hit me, yell at me, do something to show me how angry I had made him. I couldn’t even bring myself to look up into his face, but when I did I saw how rejected and lowly he looked. My face flushed even darker, and I felt bad for Ben, behind us, who had been watching the whole time.
Dad didn’t say much, just stepped out of the door way and back into the hall, “I’m going out.” He reached to pull the door closed, and I rested my forehead against it. His boots thudded heavily against the stairs, and it sounded like he was in a hurry to put some distance between the two of us.
“Where do you think he’s going?” Ben put his hands on my shoulders again, and for the first time in days, it didn’t feel weird to have him touch me.
“Probably to the bar to get wasted,” I shrugged. The truck rumbled to life outside of the window and the tires squealed as he peeled down the street.
Ben’s thumbs worked in a circular motion against my shoulder blades, “You’re all tense now.” It was weird again, and I pushed him away.
“Please, don’t touch me right now,” I hated that Ben was making me feel like the straight guy. Strong, silent, and making it a major no-no to male-male physical contact.
“Dude, I was just—“
“I know,” I stopped him. “Just not right now, okay? Maybe later.”
He sighed, stepping back from me with his hands raised, “Okay, fine. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like a queer.”
“Don’t talk like that,” I sighed. “It’s not because you’re gay that I don’t want you touching me, Ben. You know I’m not like that.”
“But you are like that,” Ben shrugged. “The last couple of weeks, you tense up whenever I lean on you or so much as brush hands. If I hugged you right now, what would you do?”
My face, if possible, grew warmer and I admitted; “I’d probably push you away.”
“Exactly,” Ben shoved his hands into his pockets, leaning back on his heels. “And I know it’s probably just because of this problem with your Dad right now, but…if you’re going to keep treating me like the gay friend then I have to treat you like the straight friend. There isn’t an in-between when you’re like this. I want to make you feel better, but I can’t just do that with words, not when I’m dealing with you.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.
“This is what I mean. I’m not good with words, Riley. Maybe that’s why I’m such a shit actor. When your Mom died, what did I do for you to make you feel better?”
I took a deep breath, remembering after Mom’s funeral, “You hugged me, listened to me cry…cried with me.”
“Exactly,” he nodded. “We say anything to each other through our mourning period. We don’t use words to get our feelings across to one another unless we’re mad. So, when you don’t let me touch you, I can’t let you know that everything is going to be OK.”
“You could just say ‘Everything is going to be OK’,” I raised an eyebrow.
“But would that mean anything to you?”
I shrugged, “Probably not.”
“Exactly…so, I’m going to let you relax and sleep alone tonight. I’m going to home, and you can think about your problems alone.”
“Wait…” I reached for him, catching his sleeve. “You don’t have to go.”
“Are you going to stop acting like a jackass?” He asked.
“Yes, I’m sorry.” I sighed. I leaned my head against his shoulder.
“Jeez,” He pushed on my forehead, holding me an arms length away. “You’re even gayer then I am.” He made me laugh, and I punched him in the arm as if to establish my manliness again.
“The movie is done…do you want to see it?” I asked, knowing that I wanted Ben to see it before we shared it with Becca.

A few mornings later, Becca was getting ready to leave. Dad had already said his goodbyes to her before heading to work. He had been avoiding me since our blow-up in front of Ben. She was going alone, and I was kind of scared for her, but I knew it would be silly for me to go along with her, even just to spend a few more hours with her.
“You are such a girl,” she laughed at me, closing the back of her small SUV. “I am going to college, Riley. It’s not like I’m going off to war and there is a possibility I won’t come back or something. I’ll be home at Thanksgiving.”
“I know,” I kicked one of her back tires.
“I’ll miss you too,” She moved to wrap her arms around me, but I pushed her away. “Riley, c’mon. What’s this really about?”
“You’re leaving me alone with him. You could have gone to any college you wanted around here, but you chose the one furthest away.” We were both fully aware that the “him” I was referring to was Dad. Drunken old Dad. “There are three colleges within fifty miles of home, Becca, and you could have applied to any of them, but you didn’t.”
“No,” She shook her head. “I didn’t.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I don’t even know why I had opened my mouth. I could have played the part of the eager younger brother, glad to be rid of his sister. But it was to late now. I could make the socially acceptable jokes about visiting and keeping an eye out for hot co-eds for me, but I couldn’t now. It was too late.
“Well, you should get going.” I shoved my hands into my pockets.
“I don’t want to leave with you mad at me, Riley.”
“I’m not mad at you,” I sighed. “I’m irritated with you, and I feel let down by you, but…I’m not mad.”
“Look, I’m thought a long time about going to college closer to home, but I’m sick of being here, Riley. I need to move on, even just temporarily. You’re not the only person I’m leaving behind.”
We stood in silence, and I scuffed the toe of my shoe against the asphalt on the driveway.
“I’ll call when I get there.” She assured me, seeing that I wasn’t going to continue to complain about her leaving me with Dad.
“K,” I nodded. I stepped back away from her, wanting to put some space in between us. I wanted her to leave just as much as I wanted her to stay. Talking to her had become hard all of a sudden. We had said to much, and yet nothing at all.
“Well…I better go,” She opened the driver’s side door, and slid into the seat. I took another step back, as she pulled the door shut, and rolled down the window. The engine roared to life, and she pulled on her seatbelt, but didn’t throw it into drive yet. “Hey, Riley?”
“Yeah?” I asked. I took a step towards the vehicle.
“You’re not really mad at me anymore, are you?”
I shrugged, “No, I’m not mad at you anymore.”
“—Cause, I’m going like a thousand miles away from home, and if I think you’re still mad at me, I’m kind of going to feel like shit, and I’ll probably do crummy in school, and then I’ll flunk out.”
“Well in that case, yes I am totally pissed at you.” I stepped up to the truck, and leaned up to press a kiss to her cheek. “You’re fine, Becca. Have fun, make friends, and don’t forget about home.”
She reached up to brush the tears away from her eyes, “Shit, look what you did. I’m going now before I turn into a fucking fountain or something.” She reached down to shift into reverse.
“Bye, Becca.” I hoped to god that I wasn’t starting to tear up either. I shoved my hands back into my pockets and watched her back out of the driveway. I stood on the sidewalk, watching Becca’s back-bumper disappear towards the Interstate. Once she had vanished completely, it still took me a bit to actually get back into the house. Reaching up, I felt he wet-spots on my face. Shit. Well…at least Becca hadn’t seen.
The house seemed eerie and empty. Dad was at work, Becca was gone, and I had just quit the job that I loathed the day before. With a wide-open schedule, and a video camera in hand, I called up Ben on the kitchen telephone.
“Hey buddy, how do you feel about starting a new project? I’m thinking something real-life…heart-wrenching, but funny… Something along the lines of ‘Life Without Becca’.”
Ben’s laugh in my ear was a nice sound, “Sure, I’ll be right over.”
Yeah, Becca had left, and I had to deal with Dad on my own, but I had a feeling that this year wouldn’t be as bad as I thought it would be.