The Circle

by Smokr

Epilogue

Show Me The Way

Six months later

The next summer, just days after my junior year ended, we made that trip to Georgia and Toby's home. We took the scenic route and seven days to get there. The waiting wasn't bad, my parents kept me busy visiting every tourist attraction and site we came across; some of them were even cool. We visited Lookout Mountain and saw four states at one time; it was an amazing view anyway. We took the long tour through Hidden Caves; three hours of stalagmites and stalactites, curtain walls of all colors and shapes, wonders I had only seen in books. I took a thousand ideas for Dungeons And Dragons adventures out the other end of the caves with me. Then Nashville and The Grand Ole Opry. When we arrived at the hotel there, an envelope with my name on it was waiting at the desk. Inside were three tickets to see Hank Williams Junior, near front and center for that night. We stayed at a camping grounds as well, several times, fishing and sitting around a fire at night.

It had been hard to leave Jeff, Tom, and the guys behind. I knew I would be different again when I returned. I knew that they could also have things happen that would change them before I got back. The three of us had certainly changed somewhat in the six months since the van accident. Jeff and I had become a public couple at school. We never held hands, or anything other than chat briefly when we bumped into each other during the day; it was just that everyone knew. In the mornings, Tom and I joined Jeff on the bus, sitting behind him. After school, the first two on sat together, the other in a seat in front or behind them. Most often it was Tom and I with Jeff in front of us. Once or twice a week, Jeff would stay on the bus and get off at my place where the three of us would hang out and do this or that all evening. His mom would pick Jeff up after her card game, or whatever she had done that day that allowed for her to pick him up. Jeff would go home, and Tom and I would watch television, play Atari, listen to music, or a thousand other things. When it got warmer, and I had given Jeff the bike that Toby's aunt had given him, we rode to the arcade, pizza shack, the mall, and just about anywhere else. All three of us had licenses, not one of us had a car.

It was only on the weekends that Jeff and I were together. During the Circle meetings we would on occasion sit next to each other for a time, even hold hands for a bit, or sneak a kiss now and then, but otherwise we were just The Circle. Tom would stay some Saturday nights, but rarely, and usually only if Jeff didn't. Usually, though, Jeff would stay Saturday night as well, and that was our time alone. Tom would return Sunday after lunch or so, bringing the tape of last night's Saturday Night Live for the three of us to get high and watch together.

During those six months, Jeff had indeed taken charge. He had not only come out of his cocoon, he had sprouted wings and soared above the crowd. He became outgoing, bubbly, even popular. By the end of the school year, Jeff was one of the most talked to and well known guys in the entire class. Our relationship was no different. He not only knew when he wanted sex, he knew what he wanted, and how he wanted it. He was confident in himself, who he was, and what he wanted. His grades climbed, even without my help. He was back, and more.

Tom had done much the same, but on a lesser degree. He made a few more friends, was a bit more outgoing, and was certainly as happy as he had ever been. His advances on Helen became rather desperate, until she made it perfectly clear that she wasn't interested by slapping him the hall at school. He grinned, laughed it off, shrugged, and found Karen; she was interested. They made a cute couple, and Tom was definitely into her. There was a rumor that Tom and Karen had made out in the teacher's lounge and were caught, and that's why Helen had slapped him. It wasn't true, but I figured he could use the ego boost. I was just glad that he was away from Helen; she only became more and more a class bitch.

The first week of summer, Jeff actually lived at my house. We had managed to bring it up with his mother before The Circle caught wind of it. She was reluctant, but understanding. She said it seemed rather distasteful, but she knew Jeff would stay at my house most of the time once school was out anyway. She agreed, provided he came home from Saturday to Monday. We were allowed Monday night through the Circle meeting. We agreed, and our respect for her grew. Tom was spending most of his time with Karen, which meant that Jeff and I had entire days alone together. He knew I was leaving in a week, and he knew where I was going, as did all The Circle, so we made that week count. We had gone past the shy, bashful, new stage of togetherness long ago, and by then we were as much a couple as we could be. We each knew what the other liked, how he liked it, and how to tease each other; sexually as well. Jeff became very adventurous, suggesting things we had seen or heard about. I had started his education, but then he became the leader over the next months.

I had thought long and hard about asking Tom or Jeff, or possibly both of them, along for the trip. I couldn't bear being separated from them both for weeks, but I didn't feel that either one should come with me. I liked the idea of them seeing Toby's house, and sharing those experiences with them, and even their meeting Toby's friends who were going to drop around to meet me, but the trip was only for me. I knew it, even though I hadn't thought it. The trip was for me and Toby. It was so that I could see his house, his room, his friends, and most importantly, to get what he had left for me under his boulder.

I wondered how I thought there would be anything, why I thought so, and I never came up with any answers. I only knew that there was something there for me, waiting. I hadn't mentioned it to anyone.

I'd had no further contact with Toby. Over those months I had grown certain that it wasn't my own mind creating him. While I never had another session with Toby, I did dream about him often, and always knew there was a message for me under his boulder.

When we arrived at Toby's home we were welcomed with open arms. My first order of business was to thank Toby's parents profusely, not only for Toby's friends' names, but for everything. Jeremy Tobias was much bigger, and he was showing all the signs of being another strawberry blond with green eyes. Some of Toby's friends, who had been in touch since I had written to them, arrived shortly after we did. His best friend, Terry and I snuck away for a long, private talk. It was one of the highlights of the entire visit. We not only became friends ourselves, we clicked deeply. Terry was indeed Toby's Tom. They had been every bit as close as Tom and I. I understood Terry's loss, and he understood mine.

That first night, after dinner with his family and his friends, I was literally forced to sleep in Toby's room, on his bed, among his things, with some of his friends. At first I was unwilling, but after Toby's parents had told me that it would all be changed after I left, I agreed. They had kept his room unchanged just so that I could come see it as he had had it. They had already told me to take anything and everything I'd like, but there was nothing there for me. I had all I needed of Toby; all but one thing.

Late into the night, his friends whispered me out into the back yard behind the barn. They were giggling and talking about the times they had been caught doing that very thing. Once in place, they pulled out and lit several joints. We laughed and talked for hours out in the dark, not noticing the insects; not until later, anyway. My sides hurt from the laughter we shared in the absolute dark, only the stars and a crescent moon for light, aside the red, glowing cherries bobbing among us.

The only serious moments came when Josh asked if I would visit Toby's grave before I went back to Chicago. I thought momentarily, then said, "No. I won't. Not because I don't, well, you know, but, there's no reason. It's just where we put the body when we're done with it. I mean, look around. This is Toby. Right? This is what's left of 'im, not that."

I couldn't tell in the darkness who said, "Naw shit, man."

It was Carson who said, "I think we're all glad he met ya. We all know he was he met you."

"I was, more than glad I met him. I'm glad he had decent guys as friends here at home. Wish you guys could meet my friends. Our friends. That'd be a fucking party! Oh! And I got a Toby story for ya about a time when the Circle guys were over and . . ."

*****

Trying to sleep in his bed was painful at first, but I knew, deep inside, that he was there, right then, with all of us. I believed that we all knew it, too. After making a peace there, I slept well, dreaming of our times together almost as if reliving each and every one of them.

I woke with the sunrise, a smile, and a sense of peace. I snuck out of the bedroom, stepping over the guys who were all still asleep. The day was picture perfect; a beautiful blue sky, a warm, gentle breeze. I was being called. As I stood on the back porch, leaning away from the porch post that I held onto with a hand, looking into the back yard and the forest beyond, and wishing we could stay more than one more day, Toby's father came out of the noisy screen-door.

"It's amazing," he said behind me.

"What is?" I said, letting go of the post and turning.

"That's how Toby spent his time thinkin' sometimes," he informed me, looking at me with eyes that made me blush.

"Somehow I know," I said. "And he used to sit over there on that tree stump when he was mad, didn't he?"

"Yup. We'd know we'd pissed 'im off then," Bill said with a chuckle.

I laughed along with Toby's dad, feeling relieved and happy, despite the need to feel the loss.

"His friends are nice. Glad he did have some. He made it sound like he almost didn't."

"Well, they live so far off. Rare for 'em to get out here. We can't, couldn't afford no car for Toby, and his bike only got him so far. No wonder he liked school. Until . . ."

"So the summers were lonely, huh?" I asked, redirecting the conversation.

It was at that moment that I knew they badly wanted to know what Toby had told me of what had happened at school. I worried that I didn't know if I should or not, and put in on one of the infinite number of back burners. I'd worked many things off those back burners in the past few months, but I always seemed to have more things to put to simmering on them. That one I put very close by, intending to have it finished before I left their home.

"Until Chicago. He perked up come time to head up there. The last two years, anyway."

"I'm glad. So glad. Miss him so much. Something I should tell you, too, while I'm here. You and his mom."

I was meeting Bill's eyes with a serious expression.

"Tonight, after dinner. Okay?"

"Sure," he replied, nodding.

"Mom and dad should hear it, too."

"Sounds serious."

"Not really. Just something I wanna tell you and his mom. Something I ain't told my folks, either. I wasn't sure if was real, or, or just dreams, or from the cut," I said, touching the spot where the wound was fully healed at my temple, the long hair now covering it. "But, now I know it was real."

There was suddenly the sound of women chatting and cookware being utilized.

"Lookin' forward to it, Alex. Breakfast won't be long, comin' in?"

"Nah, there's somethin' I wanna do," I said, gazing at the woods in the distance.

Toby's clearing, and the something waiting for me there, had been on my mind everyday. Now that I was so close, I could feel it pulling me there.

"Just follow the foot trail that's still there. I was out there yesterday, 'fore ya came up. Just to, sit, 'n think. Good spot."

I wasn't surprised that Toby's folks knew about his little spot, but I was surprised they had visited it. I suddenly worried they had found and moved what he had left there for me. I hadn't thought of that eventuality before, and at first I felt robbed. I had thought of it as Toby's private place, and his dad, possibly his mother, or even others, going there almost seemed wrong. Then my eyes grew wet and I knew just how much Toby's parents cared for him. I knew it was still there, waiting patiently only for me; and I was ready to go to it.

"I'll be back later. Don't know how long," I said, taking the first step off the back porch.

"We'll be here, Ya got swimmin' trunks?" Bill said with a chuckle. "Take your time. 'Squitos get bad back there come evenin', so don't stay all day, 'k? Seems like ya can and not know it back there."

"Yeah. Thanks," I said as I started toward the tree line, knowing what he meant and grinning about it.

It was farther than it had looked from the house, and before long a narrow trail began in the wild grass heading right for the woods. It was wide and obvious. Soon I was under the trees, in the cool green. The path dropped down steeply several times, and soon I was standing at the creek.

A wide swath of mud, imprinted with bare footprints as well as numerous shoes and boots, stretched along the side of the little creek. The mud field was no more than twenty feet across and as wide as the creek. Two ropes hung from different trees, both swinging slowly over the water. It was a neat place, and obviously the swimming hole in the photograph, and the one Toby had mentioned in so many of his stories. I could almost hear their voices and the water splashing. It was a neat place, indeed, but not what I had come for.

I spent a few minutes there, feeling those weirdly mixed emotions. I could have cried if I had wanted to. Instead I just thought of all the memories he gave his friends there. And the memories of his stories that my friends would carry. And of course they all had their own memories of him.

I sighed and turned, and began looking for his place. I knew it was close by, as the creek was, and I considered walking up the creek in either direction to find it, but decided on looking for another path that I had missed while following that one. It wasn't hard to find once I thought like Toby. How better to hide something than to not even have it? If he didn't want anyone to find his place, he'd not have made a path to it. I grinned and cut off the path a hundred or so feet from the creek, heading downward back toward it.

I walked around the end of a rock outcropping, and suddenly there was the clearing, exactly as I had seen it to the last detail. The rock outcropping cut it off on the side I stood on. On the right, a row of tall trees walled off the rest of the world, keeping his private place not only safe, but making it possible for it to even exist. The mossy boulder sat almost exactly in the center of the glen, trees surrounding it on three sides. The creek was bubbling and chattering on the far side. There were distant mountains barely visible behind the boulder, merely a blue haze against the sky in the distance. The sun filtered down through the branches of the huge tree that leaned protectively over the glen from the left, casting shadows and pools of light across the ground. Behind me, the rock outcropping stretched upward, taking the ground level up with it into thick trees. Birds sang seemingly from all directions, and locusts whirred their song into the warm breeze that made it there. Wildflowers bloomed everywhere, filling the air with their scents as well. Along the rock outcrop, away and upward, green mosses grew in patches over the gray, rough, irregular wall of rock.

I nearly collapsed in tears as I saw how right what I had seen had been. There was no longer a doubt in my mind about what I had experienced. I could almost hear Toby's voice saying hi. The boulder was just as I had seen it, just a bit tall for easily getting on top of, but nothing difficult, and I managed it with ease. The mosses softened the stone and held the sun's early warmth.

I sat there for a long period, gently wiping my eyes from time to time, never losing the wide smile I wore. I felt as comfortable there as I had felt in my own room. My eyes caught sight of something in the bark of the huge tree hanging over the place. There was obviously initials carved into it, and a cross above them. I hopped off the boulder and approached it. I knew what the initials were before I got there, but I wanted to see them up close, touch them, to know it was what I thought they were. It was.

I worried for a split-second that A.R. might be someone else, but only for a split second. I knew. It was more than I was prepared for. I sat against the base of that tree for a long time, laughing and crying in waves. I wanted to leave something concrete behind in his place, something to verify and validate his carving. I tried to think of something to add to his sentiment, but nothing would come to me.

Only when a glint of light off something at the base of the boulder caught my eye did I leave the guardian tree and it's carving. The sun had moved considerably, and now it reflected off of something shiny, nearly buried under the large boulder. Twigs and branches had fallen over the moss and grass that had grown over it, leaving only a tiny corner exposed. I knelt and gently moved the debris and new life from in front of it, then gently pulled it out. I turned around and sat cross-legged against the boulder with the Coca-Cola tin in my lap.

Toby was the last to touch it, I was certain. No one had found it, ever knew it was there. I knew that as well as I knew that Toby was there right then, and as well as I knew Toby still loved me, too.

I shook it gently, like I did to presents and gifts, trying to discern the contents before opening them. There was obviously something metallic inside that moved about freely.

The tin was difficult to open, and when it did, the contents jumped out, as if in a rush to freedom. A piece of paper, folded many times, turned over several times and landed squarely back in the tin, on top of the metallic objects that had also been briefly airborne before returning to the bottom of the box with a loud, hollow rattle. There was a plastic baggie as well, its contents obvious before I really saw them. Their purpose was obvious, as well. I sniffed the baggie as I opened it, instantly reminded of the merta that Tim had given me months ago, but knowing that it was far too gone to smoke. I grinned and pulled out my own joint that I had brought for the same intention. I lit it with the lighter he had thoughtfully put with his. I held the chains and medallions as I read his letter.

The paper was from a white legal pad, like the one he had written to his parents before he had left to visit me. It was legible despite the way the paper had changed color. The writing on both pages was clear and smooth, something Toby must have worked hard to do. I smiled at the effort Toby must have put into it as I began to read it.

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