Homecoming Cookout, 1

(Saturday)

Woke from a dream that alternated with me waking a little while and remembering Ian ___ a bit more, then shifting back into the dream.
In the dream my sisters were unrecognizable as sisters. They each acted like a girl who might have a chance with me. In this dream my younger sister H__ is the main subject, which is rare.
The setting is my house now, but with the dark clouds outside.
Looking out onto the back porch through a window, H__ and I watch as a bear violently rips off the back half of a truck. I let Ginger (a white ginger shepherd we had as teenagers) watch, hoping her barking will scare it off. It doesn’t work. H__ is the only one terrified when we see that there is a skinny guy standing out there, he looks like a younger version of me, on the porch, acting oblivious to the bear. He stands on the back porch, doing something with his cell phone. The bear calms down, scruffs about.
Mom is supposed to be taking H__ to a train which will take her to some sort of camp or school. (In real life H__ leaves town by going to college up north.)
The dream kept saying to call K__, he’s coming to pick you up, just like he promised. But he’s so late. I understand it’s rejection, and I feel it raw, that’s why I won’t call. If he was my true friend he wouldn’t have forgotten at all -- look at the seriousness of the situation, look how serious it is -- he wouldn’t have to be forced to remember by a phone call. It’s not like he’s picking me up so we can go to the movies, he’s picking me up so I can escape these people.
I think the skinny guy on the porch might be me as a teenager. He’s so distracted acting, as if there’s not a bear the size of a polar bear behind him. He must know.
Ohhh .. I think to myself when I woke up for a few minutes .. So I felt the rejection each time. I was this confused by my sisters each day. I was acting oblivious while I protected them, because I felt the rejection of each disappointing friend, and each selfish, spoiled, sister. I did feel it this raw even though I couldn’t allow myself to register it.
When I wake up completely the Ian triggers are still on my mind, and the dream has put me in a raw place. I remember being in Te__’s preschool, one she had made out of her own house out in a country neighborhood. Most of the time it was just me and my sisters, another little boy, and a couple of babies. I remember the other little boy. We would take naps in the same room, A__ and H___ in a different room.
Everything reminds me of the preschool as I check the time and get ready for the long drive to J__’s house for the cookout. The ice tea pitcher, the forks and spoons to be washed, the way the afternoon looks.
I tell myself to just be brave. It’s the only requirement to remain Him.

___________

　
I had three ways of getting more pills and each one failed. I hadn’t expected that. That’s why I was an hour late for the cookout. I knew that J__ never had any alcohol in his house, because of how often his grandkids were over, so I didn’t have a flask either.
_Oh -- hey Ben. I’m so glad you came,_ Ms J__ said with a hug when I entered their house through the kitchen door. _We got to the point where we thought you might not be coming._
_It was a long drive, you know,_ I replied.
She has an easy smile and laugh so it was like I was instantly forgiven.
They have a big family -- because their five daughters keep procreating -- many of whom I don’t really know. I really visit just to see J__ and his wife, Ms J__. It’s strange having such an audience as I talk to them.
When I arrived I noticed they both seemed haggard with how busy they were. I guessed it was the reality of hosting a family cookout. J__ going in and out of the house depositing pans of freshly grilled chicken and Ms J__ trying to boil some soon-to-be-Easter-eggs and find enough chairs for everyone.
I went to get some chairs out of their shed outside, and started taking in the pans from the grill, and helped Ms J__ with some dishes. It’s my way, I suppose. It’s how I made friends while numb and found it difficult to socialize.
As I walked out to get the chairs, I passed the male members of the family playing basketball. I noticed that the genders tended to stay segregated at family gatherings, and how I could never manage to follow the unwritten rule. I talked to J__ by the grill, and Ms J__ in the kitchen, but I never joined either group of the females sitting, fanning themselves under the porch or the men and boys playing basketball.
Without a perception biased by love, J__ and his wife’s offspring can come across as suburban, spoiled, out-of-touch light-skinned people. The kids on cell phones and game systems, the adults lounging about, some gym-sculpted, some a bit too goofy to be so self righteous. But I liked them any way. They’re always nice to me, and I feel like they don’t have to be.
I remembered a soldier telling me about a scene from the film The Hurt Locker, where a character comes back from deployment and must buy a box of cereal for his daughter, and because of the culture shock it’s very difficult for him, standing in the cereal aisle, not really knowing what to do next.
I allowed myself to be freaked out by how bizarre and difficult I found a family function such as this. Being able to act the way I felt kept the anxiety away. I allowed myself to be seen, not that anyone was looking, but if they were, they could see me for who I was, instead of me trying to hide behind numbness.
I had to work extra hard to not be numb because I didn’t have any pills in me. I had to pay close attention to register how I was feeling and what I wanted in-the-moment, then acknowledging it and acting on it. There were several times I wanted to get away, and I did.
One of their daughters -- the most attractive one -- asked me where House was. _You know it being Easter weekend, his family had dibs on him,_ I answered.
_Oh okay. I’ve been hearing a lot about House .. _ she said and then walked outside to check on the kids.
I thought it was strange she’d say that since they’d only met him twice: once, when Ms J__ and B__ picked us up from being bussed up from DEMOB and then again later on Super Bowl weekend.
I stepped outside and talked to the same daughter for awhile. She was my go-to at family functions, not only because she was so stunning but because she was a photographer and always gushed over mine. She knew a lot more about photography than I did so it was a good dynamic; I knew how to act. She asked me to help her photograph a wedding in August. I said I didn’t know how to take posed photography. She said she’d show me the ropes.
Later, Ms J__ pulled me aside and asked about House.
I told her that actually I ended up having him move out.

She said, _Good, good. Glad to hear it._
I told her that the deployment was worse than I may have alluded to and that when I went through customs on the way back the other soldiers knew I had had a difficult deployment so they kept me stuffed with narcotics from that point on. Later, I ended up on the bathroom floor for three days but now it’s over. _I was put in a position with a lot of pressure associated with it,_ I told her. _By the end of the deployment, I couldn’t even remember how to relax._
_But you know you didn’t need that stuff,_ she interjected.
_No, -- really -- it was bad, I truly thought I was relaxed and really I was wound tight and didn’t know it. It was a lucky accident that those guys forced me that relaxed with those assortment of pills and stuff._
_But you’re off of it now, and you’re not on anything now are you?_ she said, and I felt accused.
_No, it’s been awhile,_ I said, incidentally telling the truth. _I still have to drink sometimes to get through some situations, you know, but that’s about it,_ I said.
_Okay, okay, I can see that, but that other stuff. Don‘t mess with that stuff. I heard House mention something about you guys were going to F__ street and when you guy left I said they‘re going to go get f----cked up. You know you don‘t need to be doing that, you know._ she said. Then she quickly turned and left, suddenly having to get back to the kitchen and her seemingly helpless daughters.