ROOTS 2

Part 4 of: The Lies We Told Each Other

Fandom: Top Gun (Movies), Thunderheart (1992)

INDEX: http://palabraspulsares.blogspot.com/p/the-lies-we-told-each-other-4-roots.html

--------------------------

Chapter 2: Top Secret!

Summary

Sam and Jake discover, each on their own, singularities in their family. Unfortunately, they reach contradictory conclusions.
This chapter contains offensive language about mental health issues and mentions of internalized transphobia.

 

Saturday, August 2, 2008

 

When Pete opens his eyes, Sarah is awake, sitting against the bed's headboard. He gets scared because his wife relaxes and sleeps like a rock when he and Ice are home. Pete likes seeing her without the lines of tension caused by family and work. He usually wakes her up with his mouth, and Sarah moans with pleasure, beginning to thrust her hips in search of more contact before fully regaining consciousness.

None of that will happen today because Sarah is awake. Mav slowly sits up and touches his knee to get his attention. She looks at him with eyes that mix amazement and pride.

He shakes Tom's shoulder, who, like a career soldier, wakes up shortly.

"Sarah, honey, what's wrong?" -asks the blonde.

"Samantha knows," she says very softly and smiles shyly.

The men exchange bewildered glances.

"What does Sam know?" -Pete tries to specify, although it shouldn't be anything terrible given Sarah's attitude.

"She knows about us. That we are," -she moves a hand to indicate the two men and herself- "together."

Oh! That.

"Itsn't she upset?" -Pete has no idea what's considered "cool" or "romantic" these days, but he's pretty sure polyandry isn't very popular in California.

"How did she found out?" -is what Ice asks, already thinking about damage control: whatever exposed them must be corrected immediately.

"No, she's not upset. At least yesterday, she was... happy? She says she realized it for herself after reading a novel. Honestly, it was a bizarre conversation."

"A novel?" -Tom is surprised. As far as he knows, their daughter is not a voracious reader. She completes her schoolwork, and that's it. What kind of books do they teach at her school?

"Can you tell us what happened?" -Pete proposes.

"It was yesterday, after buying things for school. We entered a fusion food restaurant. Nothing too adventurous. After struggling to arrange the bags under the table, we looked at the menu and ordered. The waiter warned us that they were during peak hours and might take a while, but they had free refills on fruit juice.

I took off my shoes and stretched my toes. What a relief! Don't laugh, Mav. After three hours of walking through that shopping center, let's see what you would have felt.

I let my eyes wander around the dining room and stopped at a large, round table. It was occupied by a family, or at least it seemed like it. Five adults and, I don't know, seven or eight children? They weren't... They looked distinctive. I mean… Their clothes and shoes were high quality but they were of different skin colors. That's unusual in the wealthy areas of San Diego, you know. They didn't seem to feel out of place at all. Like us, they were waiting for their food and had improvised a game with straws and napkins for their offspring. Their laughs were so refreshing! Of course, I noticed that on the other side of the room, an older white couple gave them a disapproving glare. I think they were bothered by the noise their little ones made.

I guess I was enthralled because Sam's voice surprised me.

"Remembering?"

"What?" -I looked at her without understanding.

She pointed her chin at the large table.

"Do they make you remember when we were little?"

"I guess so..." -I looked back at the white couple with their vinegar expressions- "although you made even more noise."

She followed my eyes and nodded.

"Fucking Nazis," she said with a grimace of displeasure.

"Sam!"

She hid her laugh as she took a sip of juice. When she realized I was serious, she looked at me defiantly.

"They can't hear us, iná. Also, those people should stay home if they don't want to see interracial families. Segregation is over."

"It's not that, baby. Nazi is a very serious accusation. It should not be thrown around like that, lightly."

That seemed to surprise her.

"I had not thought of it. Okay. They are a fucking racist couple, better?"

I smiled and nodded. I like it when we can understand each other like this clearly.

We looked at the round table again because the food arrived, and they began to serve their little ones. They had good manners. Yes, they reminded me of when we used to go out as a band. That period after Carole died, when Bradley's every smile was a triumph, and your visits from Maryland were a party. I think they were our happiest years.

"I think they're exactly like our family," Sam said with a tender expression.

"What do you mean?"

"That they are, you know..." -she made an circling movement with his index finger pointing up. I didn't understand absolutely anything. I shook my head.

"Are what now?"

She opened his eyes with an incredulous expression.

"Together! They are not two couples and a single person but a poly cell." -then she lowered her voice- "Like Icepop, Mavdad, and you."

I got really scared and looked around in fear.

"Sam! Where do you get those ideas from?"

The arrival of the food saved me. While we were being served, Sam had an angry and confused expression that broke my heart. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to lie to her, but we were in a restaurant in the middle of San Diego! She returned to the topic as soon as the waiter left.

"Are you going to tell me that it's not true?"

"We're a military family, Sam," I said with a forced smile, but teenagers don't like to take many hints.

"You haven't denied it," she insisted.

I decided to hide behind good manners, so I put a big mouthful of food in my mouth and chewed very slowly, trying to put my thoughts in order. Sam started to eat, too, but she glared at me the whole time. It was clear that she was not going to drop the matter. Well, there is only so much time you can chew on a mouthful of tender meat and spiced rice. I decided to go on the offensive.

"I repeat my question, young lady. Where did you get such an idea?"

She narrowed her eyes to study me. Sighed.

"We read a novel in the science fiction class I took as an English optional: "Woman on the Edge of Time," by Marge Piercy. As I read, but especially in class discussions, I realized that I grew up in one of those families Piercy says will exist in the 22nd century. There are no marriages. Families are made up of triads who share the responsibility of raising their children until puberty. All three people are "mothers," regardless of their gender."

She put a bite into her mouth and began to chew thoughtfully. I realized I had my fork in the air and hurried to fill my mouth. I still didn't know what to answer. Sam swallowed, drank water, and continued talking.

"You know? One of the things that attracted me the most from the book was that in the future, they have a device that allows babies to develop outside the womb. It is called a "brooder." This way, women no longer have to suffer the risks of pregnancy. Everyone in that future is like Bradley and Jake. They weren't born to you, but you are their mother, right?"

"Yes, I'm their mom," I confirmed quietly.

We continue eating. The silence between us was tense and unpleasant. I wanted to ask her so many things, but I didn't have the courage to discuss them in a public place.

"Look," I told her when she was about to finish the main course, "let's order dessert to go, and we'll talk in the car. Is that okay for you?"

She nodded. I called to ask for the bill, we picked up our things and left.

Once behind the helm, I felt safer. I knew there would be no prying ears in the infernal traffic of this city.

"Sam, what you did was irresponsible. You are seventeen years old and know very well what DADT is. It is not a joke! Your father is a vice admiral. He could go to jail if anyone repeats what you said in that restaurant."

"I didn't say he was homosexual," she argued.

"No! You said he was in a simultaneous relationship with me and another man. Homosexual, bisexual, polysexual... It would make a big difference to the military court!"

"But it's beautiful! It is admirable what Icepop, Mavdad, and you have done, the happiness you have given us. Why should a court care who my father loves?"

We stopped at a traffic light, and I turned to look at her straight in the face. I smiled sadly.

"I don't think it's fair either, honey, but this is the world we live in."

She pouted.

"Do you know what else I realized during that course? I was unaware of how much effort you three made to share all the obligations to educate us without gender differences becoming power differences. I guess when I saw that family, I was envious. They are queers, and they show it with pride. You are in the closet. The DoD forces you to be in the closet.

"We did it to give you and your brothers a better life." -I sighed- "Also, because the two of them are aviators absolutely addicted to adrenaline. Ice and Mav just couldn't be happy away from the jets, baby."

"Oh, believe me, Mom, I know it. Also, it is hereditary. The men of this family are taken by the jets."

We were already arriving at the house, and I realized I had to prevent the whole thing from getting out of control.

"Listen, Sam, honey. You know no one should be forced out of the closet, right?"

She looked severe and stiff suddenly but nodded.

"Yeah."

"So you understand that sharing your discovery that Icepop, Mavdad and I are in love would be like outing us?"

She looked at me with surprise and fear. I didn't want to let her try any silly argument.

"How your parents and I handle our relationship is a private matter. Not only because of the danger of DADT but because most people don't understand love outside of monogamy. I am very proud that you are so smart, but you can't tell this to anyone."

"Not even…"

"To nobody! Not your brothers, not your uncles. You're not going to write it in your diary. You won't discuss it with your dad or Pete unless they start the conversation privately. It doesn't matter what happens. It doesn't matter what anyone says in front of you or you hear behind your back. Your father and I are a couple. Pete is your father's best friend. We are heterosexual and monogamous people. That's all there is. That's all there will be. That's all you know."

We arrived at the house and entered the parking lot.

"It's not fair," she complained with a pout.

"No, it is not. You should already know that the world is rarely fair at your age."

I turned off the engine and extended my hand to him.

"Do we have a deal?"

She looked me in the eyes. I don't know what she expected to find, but whatever she saw convinced her to agree to the terms.

"Deal," she said in a defeated voice and shook my hand.

"And what happened next?" -Ice asks.

"Nothing. We took the shopping bags. We made small talk during dinner. She went to sleep."

Pete draws up his legs, clasps his hands in front of him, and rests his chin on his knees.

"So there are... books about people like us?" -he says with amazement.

"Science fiction books," Tom corrects.

"But serious books, which are taught in schools," he insists.

Tom snorts. He doesn't know how long those titles will be on the curriculum if some families find out. But he won't destroy his husband's joy with such a pessimistic prediction.

"I want to read it," says Mav with a determined expression.

"Me too," Sarah nods.

They look at him expectantly. Tom raises his hands in defeat.

"Alright! Let's read the book." -snorts- "What a way to enter middle age: starting a book club with my spouses. But quietly, huh?"

"We can just make two covert copies of Sam's book," his wife suggests.

Years ago, to satisfy their reading urges without jeopardizing their careers, they set up a small copying and binding workshop in the basement, next to Sarah's photography workshop. They take out the pages of the book they want and bind them inside an inane cover, consistent with their respective public images.

"I have to stop by the airport to bring something new," Mav plans and looks at Ice. "Which military journal will you use?"

"Too dangerous to use a journal as a cover," the blonde denies. "Better the appropriations committee's transcript. Nothing is too dry for Vice Admiral Kazansky, the Iceman." he says with a smug face.

"How serious!" -Sarah's voice is dreamy. "Is that a challenge, Mr. Iceman?"

He looks at her through his long eyelashes.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mrs. Kazansky, but I inform you, one person cannot melt me."

"Oh!" -Mav crawls until he is behind him- "But she is not alone," -he whispers in his ear while his nails gently scratch his torso- "This is a joint operation."

Sarah puts a hand inside his pajama pants. Her fingers slide towards Tom's vulva with the confidence that comes from practice. He gasps.

"I will not give up easily."

"Who said we want something easy?" -she purrs.

 

That afternoon, Pete notices that Jake is still looking distracted and sullen. It seems he's still angry about the hangar thing. That's something his son inherited and learned from Ice: the capacity for resentment. The difference is that his husband studies the facts before deciding what's happening and acts accordingly. Jake is still a teenager full of insecurities that cloud his perception of reality.

He takes Ice to the office with an excuse and locks it with a pounding heart.

"I think we should tell him," he announces, leaning against the door.

Tom stays still. He is standing with one hand resting on the work table. He knows precisely who Pete is talking about and what they should speak about.

"He is very…"

Mav turns around, eyes glowing with fury.

"Bradley was the same age when he learned about it."

"Bradley found out," Tom corrects, with forced calm. "Because you wanted to make out in the kitchen."

Pete makes a gesture to downplay that detail.

"Bradley knows it, Sam knows it, and it's only fair that Jake knows it too."

Tom purses his lips. He is not comfortable with the idea of coming out, even partially. But he has enough self-criticism to realize that it is fear. Something irrational that he can (he must!) control through logic.

"I guess it's best that he leaves home with that knowledge, so that he knows how to be discreet in the USNA," he admits reluctantly.

Pete walks over and puts his hands on his shoulders to comfort him.

"We have to keep it simple, okay? The same story we tell everyone: we fought in early 1990. We were in New York in July but didn't see each other. You found Sarah, and even though you didn't love her, you decided to take care of Sam. I found Rachel, although it wasn't love either. She wasn't cut out for motherhood and had enough courage to admit it. You and I reconciled in the summer of 1991."

Tom has to admit it's a good story, mainly because it's mostly true. There are only some omissions and chronological adjustments. But he can't silence the little voice that reminds him of Jake's obsession with his birth mother. He forces himself to give voice to his fear.

"You don't think he will blame me for Rachel?"

"Why would he think that? What Rachel did or didn't do has nothing to do with you. You were in Chicago."

As always, Ice finds his fears evaporating at the spell of Maverick's smile. His husband has tremendous power over him. Luckily, he doesn't use it much.

"Alright. Tonight?"

"Yes, we will go to the solarium after washing the dishes."

"Okay, I'll wait for you there."

 

Ice spends the rest of the afternoon distracted, focused on the possible scenarios of that night. That's why he doesn't notice the change in his son. If he had been paying more attention to Jake, he would have realized during dinner that his son was not upset but brooding. Because between fighting with his father over an extravagant gift on Friday night and sitting down to dinner with his family on Saturday night, a lot of things changed in Jake Mitchell's life.

 

Friday night, in his bed. Jake decided that if his father believed Ice's promises of male camaraderie, he shouldn't doubt it. After all, it is true that his dad will be alone soon. He hasn't had a partner since Mom Carole was buried ten years ago. He probably gave up hope of finding a woman who would accept his quirks and unpredictable schedules. That complicates any relationship: a life that leans on Washington's strategic decisions about your usefulness in the most diverse parts of the planet.

Also… Jake guesses that Mavdad didn't look much around because of him. His descent into the abyss, just as the family was barely recovering from mourning Mom Carole, must have left him little time to think about his love life. What time was he going to have to look for a girlfriend if he was dealing with a son who was screwed in the head? What woman would accept a semi-retired aviator with a sick child?

But Iná and Icepop did not abandon them. In fact, Sarah and Tom Kazansky have been the rock that Pete and Jake Mitchell have always been able to stand on.

He knows that Ice and his father bought this big house so Carole and Sarah could help each other while the two of them went on deployment.

Then, when he was four years old and found out that Carole wasn't… No, that's not right. Dr. Poole told him about the power of words. He has to put it right: when he found out he was Carole's adopted son. Those were terrible months, but no one called his father to come back from Yugoslavia to deal with his whiny brat. Carole, and then Icepop, spent sleepless nights at his side. He cried, and Icepop cradled him. That period is hazy in Jake's mind because he was so young and suffered so much. So he's not sure how much he remembers and how much are imaginary reconstructions, false memories, from what his family has told him, but there is something he knows is an actual memory.

A memory of him and Ice.

One night, with the light off, Icepop let him sleep against his chest. Literally. Jake only wore diapers those days because, between pissing and vomiting, he couldn't keep any clothes clean. Iceman placed him against his bare torso and wrapped them in a soft blanket. It was like being in a cocoon. Jake remembers the rough skin as if covered in scars and the rapid beat of his heart, which slowed down while Ice sang him a lullaby in Lakota. He pressed his forehead against the hard breastbone, took a deep breath, and relaxed.

It is one of his most beautiful memories, composed only of smells, textures, and sounds.

That night, he dreamed of a hoarse voice that asked him for forgiveness and promised they would return one day.

Dr. Poole helped him rationalize the dream part: he had hit rock bottom, and his desperate brain fabricated a visit from Rachel.

And why does Icepop never mention it? Well, the truth is that it was absolutely inappropriate, right? An adult man sleeping with a child in a vulnerable situation. Both half naked. Yes, Icepop must have been very desperate to make him sleep.

But trauma with her mother and inappropriate contact aside, the point is that Sarah and Ice didn't ditch him even when his condition affected their newborn baby.

He is a contradictory man, Mr. Kazansky: so cold and calculating outside their home. Jake has seen many officers shake when he fixes his blue-gray eyes on them. Eyes as a stormy sea. But for Jake, he has always been a father - yes, a father - tender, patient, understanding.

Soon, Mavdad will only have his friends to keep him afloat.

Iceman is very busy with his career. Bradley too. Now he and Sam are leaving. In four years, Sean will too. That means that only Sarah will be permanently in the house in a few years.

Yes, he decided bitterly as he looked at the photo of Rachel on the nightstand. His father is an adult, and he must trust that he knows Icepop.

On Saturday morning, Jake decides he needs to do something productive, like prepare for his move to the USNA. It occurs to him that he could take a couple of photos to decorate. Yes, a couple of photos from his iná Sarah collection.

Light in spirit, he goes up to the attic, determined to look through the hundreds of photos accumulated since the seventies. Because there are also the photos his parents took on their trips worldwide. Even the old polaroids that Goose, Bradley's father, made. Jake can't remember the last time he went up to the attic. Five or six years ago? The only one that goes sometimes is iná, to add more boxes of photos.

Everything is covered in a thin layer of dust.

Well, now that he's here, breathing in mites and other shit, how is he going to find what he needs? Because this archive does not have a catalog. The boxes are arranged in cabinets along the wall with the date written on the front and sometimes a note on the back with the location or other vague reference.

One entry catches his attention: January to March 1991.

They must be images of Chicago. It could be interesting.

He takes out the box and sits on the floor. But instead of Lake Michigan or the elevated trains of the Windy City, he finds landscapes of semi-desert plains and ramshackle houses.

What is this?

There are also photographs of human artifacts.

Fifteen photos of a wide-brimmed hat from various angles and with different lighting degrees. All serially numbered "Law and Order."

An old TV, with the screen static.

Clothes spread carefully on the sandy ground, with holes resembling gunshots?

Trucks and cars. None of them look new.

Then, he finds portraits. All of the people have indigenous features.

An old man with long hair combed in two braids. Sitting and staring into the sky, the sunlight casts different shadows in each photo. "Grandpa Samuel. Lights" they say on the back.

Smiling women carrying bags walking down a dirt street.

A middle-aged man without legs, in a wheelchair. He gives the military salute with pride.

A group of infants in front of a dilapidated building. That's the first image that gives him a clue as to where the characters are. There is a sign announcing "Elementary School. Sioux Territory."

Sioux territory? February to March 1991?

No, it can not be…

Jake keeps taking pictures out of the box. Finally, of course, Pete Mitchell shows up.

He doesn't look like the father he knows. For starters, he's much younger. But what sets him apart is that he is still, not in the sense of a still image, but in the sense that his body seems at rest. His Mavdad is a man who is always active, overflowing with energy, but none of these photos seem to catch him in the middle of any movement. The other thing is that he doesn't look at the camera. His interest is always in a point outside the frame, something that gives him happiness.

What is his father looking at?

The answer comes several photos later when he finally appears accompanied. The other person hugs him and has their head resting on his shoulder. The blonde, slightly wavy hair falls forward. The face is invisible. But Jake doesn't need to see the face to know who they are. She and her father's hands are joined on a round belly, about eight months pregnant.

-Mama…

With trembling hands, he continues exploring the box.

Pete and Rachel are on a couch.

Pete and Rachel eating.

Pete and Rachel walk across the plain.

Pete and Rachel with their hands intertwined, resting on the belly where their son is growing.

It is beautiful and terrible. Jake can see so much intimacy and still remains ignorant because his mother's face is always invisible. It can't be coincidental. The condition for taking these photos was to keep her identity hidden.

Is it true that his mother is a spy? Or a famous person?

"Rachel had to go." The explanation has never changed. His father never claimed that the decision had been voluntary or pleasant.

He didn't tell him he was in love with Rachel, either. Because his father's expression leaves no room for doubt. It is a look of absolute adoration and desire. Pete Mitchell's feelings are exposed as if the camera had opened his chest and touched his heart. It is a tender and fierce love.

Why didn't he tell him? He wonders bitterly.

Why make their relationship seem like an affair and his birth an accident?

He must ask him because this discovery changes his entire life. He couldn't love a stranger like that, could he? His dad does know who Rachel is, maybe even... Will that dilapidated house belong to his family? That old man, is he his grandfather? Are any of those women his aunt or cousin?

He senses that a world of possibilities is almost at his fingertips.

The cell phone rings. It's a message from Sean. "Lunch." Always concise, his brother.

He puts one of the photos of his parents in his pocket and tries to return the rest to the box. He grabs them in bulk and attempts to fit them vertically into the bin, to leave them just as he found them, but in haste, he loses control, the box falls, and everything spills.

"Shit!" -snorts- "Calm down, Jake, slow and neat."

He starts again. This time, grabbing a manageable amount of pictures. He holds them vertically with one hand and continues adding photos with the other, little by little. He smiles, satisfied when he picks up the last one. He reads the handwritten note without thinking. "My two loves. April 2, 1991."

It's his father's handwriting.

Slowly, Jake turns the photo over.

It's a naked torso. Flat chest. Downwards, you can see the beginning of a distended belly, as if it had been full and its contents had been emptied quickly. The chest is almost entirely covered by a complicated tattoo, which seems to represent… -Jake twists his eyes, trying to make sense of the lines- a killer rabbit? Could be. He is unsure because a baby's body hides the central part of the tattoo.

Jake covers his mouth with his forearm and holds back a sob. This is his first photo!

According to the date, he was perhaps a day old. He looks so tiny!

Baby Jake looks asleep. He is on his belly, with his face turned towards his left shoulder. His eyes are closed, his mouth is slightly open, and his hands are clenched into fists.

With a clumsy finger, he outlines the torso where he lies.

Jake feels the longing overwhelm him as if he were four years old again. There is a storm of emotions inside.

Happiness.

Surprise.

Curiosity.

Nostalgia.

Sadness.

Rage.

His father's words resonate in his memory. "You can't imagine the cost of leaving you, but it must be done." External forces severed that relationship, it is evident. He and his father were robbed of so much, so much love. Someone forced Rachel to leave, and his father decided it was best to pretend nothing had happened. But that's not true. These photos are evidence that he was not born from a loveless affair. "One day, when you grow up, you will understand why Rachel can't be here." It's time to make his father good to his promise.

The cell phone brings him out of his reflection. This time, it's Sam: "Where are you? Lunch NOW."

Jake wipes his face with his hands and calms his labored breathing. He puts this photo in a pocket, too. He finally puts the box in its place and leaves the attic. He runs to wash and comes downstairs, making a fuss about "interrupting a private moment." While they eat lunch, he observes his father. Who could have forced him to give up Rachel? Tonight, he decides. Tonight, they will talk because his father leaves for Norway on Monday.

He is afraid of saying the wrong thing, so he answers the questions asked directly in monosyllables and escapes to his room as soon as possible. He doesn't care if they think he's sullen. He doesn't notice the worried look Pete and Tom exchange.

At dinnertime, Ice doesn't know any of these things. He takes Jake's focused expression and his searching glances at Mav for remnants of yesterday's anger. Little does he know that his son has returned to an old obsession: Rachel's identity and her relationship with his father.

That is why he walks blindly towards the abyss.

This time, they finish washing the dishes and then try to have a conversation.

"I want to talk to you," Jake says.

"We want to talk to you," Pete announces.

They look at each other surprised.

"We want?"

Pete clears his throat.

"Yes, Ice and me. I think last night's argument in the hangar indicates communication problems, and I thought we should talk to you about our family in general now that you're almost an adult."

Jake narrows his eyes.

"Did you rehearse that?"

"Several times," A light blush colors Mav's cheeks.- "It's not easy for me... I wasn't raised to be open with my feelings, Jake." -he sighs- "Ice is waiting for us in the solarium."

"Okay."

They climb the stairs with light steps.

Jake likes the solarium. It is a space where they usually meet to spend time after dinner. It has something from each member of the family. If there is a place to question his father about his relationship with Rachel, it is in this greenhouse full of beautiful memories. Ice is waiting for them on a loveseat. Pete goes straight to sit next to him. His son occupies a sofa in front.

"Here we are," Mav announces and runs his hands over his knees, clearly nervous.

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

"About the family, of course."

"About us," Ice corrects.

The young man looks at them, intrigued.

"Which is it then?"

"Yesterday, you said that my idea of going to the desert with Ice sounded gay and that Sarah would never allow it."

"Errr, yes, well. Not my best moment, Mavdad. I spoke like a jerk, and I'm sorry. Your friendship is long and solid. I have no right to question it."

"No, no, you're right," Pete cuts him off.- "It's very gay plan."

"Dad!"

"What I want to say is... that Ice and I do have a long and solid relationship, yes. But it isn't a friendship."

"What?" -He looks at them, confused.

Ice sees his husband's trembling lips and realizes he has to intervene. Mav hasn't come out to anyone in over thirty years - Bradley doesn't count - and it's clear he doesn't remember how. He intertwines his fingers with Mav's and looks at their son, determined.

"Your father and I are together, Jake. We're a couple."

The boy opens his mouth and closes it again. He looks them up and down.

"Oh! Congratulations?"

"Thanks."

But suddenly, Jake looks at them suspiciously.

"You're not telling me this to help you lie to iná, right?"

"Of course not!" -Ice quickly reassures him.- "Sarah knows about our relationship."

"We are very good friends, Sarah and I."

"Then why did you tell me now?"

"Because you are almost an adult, I think we should be honest with you, son. Yesterday, you told me I would be alone in that hangar. I realize you were worried about me. I want you to know that, no, I am not alone. Ice has been my partner for many years."

Jake smiles. It feels good when they treat you like an adult. He doesn't even feel bitter about delaying his own investigation a little. Bringing up Rachel now would be a totally tactless gesture. His father comes out of the closet, all proud, reveals he has a boyfriend, and he… "my mommy, my mommy." He's going to sound like an obsessed brat! Boyfriend? Wow, that really sounds like a teenager thing. Better to say "couple," as Icepop said. Yes, the sensible thing is to wait until tomorrow and find an excuse to talk to his father alone.

"And how long have you two been together?" -Jake asks to fill the void.

"In November, we will celebrate our twenty years," Pete proudly declares, sticking out his chest.

Jake's eyes widen. He must have heard wrong!

"Twenty years?" -he repeats between his teeth.

"Yeah."

"So, who did you cheat on, Ice or Rachel?"

Pete gasps, completely taken aback by the tone of the question.

"Nobody cheated anyone," Ice intervenes with a firm voice.- "Your father and I broke up between 1990 and 1991. You and Sam were an unexpected but welcome result of a very intense week in New York in July 1990. We were both trying to prove that we could be heterosexual."

"Boy, I worked hard on that," Pete agrees. Ice elbows him to silence and continues.

"Sarah and I managed to remain friends, even after we realized that we couldn't be a couple. We have a marriage of convenience, but she is free to leave me if she ever falls in love with someone else."

Sarah free? Please! You just have to see how she follows Ice with her eyes every time he is in the room. Her iná is caught like a worm on a hook, and she will do anything for this man who doesn't love her. Who doesn't deserve her.

Jake fixes his furious green eyes on Maverick.

"And my Mom?"

The man shrugs his shoulders.

"I didn't love her. She wasn't made for motherhood. We decided it was best for all parties involved if we went our separate ways. It's not that she didn't love you, Jake. It's that Rachel couldn't give up her life to be a mother. Do you understand?"

Yes, Jake understands that he is being lied to. His mind works at hundreds of miles per second, piecing together memories, casual comments, and notes from family albums. The puzzle of the strange relationship between Ice and his father begins to take shape.

It is not a pleasant image.

"So neither of you knew that the other was going to be a father," he forces himself to say casually.

"No. I was here in San Diego when Sarah contacted me to tell me she was pregnant in September 1990. I flew to Chicago to help her."

"And I was in the first invasion of Iraq. Rachel had the FBI track me down and bring me to the reservation in March, right around the time of your birth."

"And then you went back with Ice?" -he asks with contained anger.

"Yes," Pete answers fervently- "I realized that he was the love of my life. I wrote to him telling him what had happened and…"

Wait a minute, what?

"Did you write to him!?"

"Encrypted postcards, an old queer trick" -Ice intervenes.

Mav picks up the thread of the conversation.

"The fact is that Ice and I decided that our respective heterosexual chapters had just been failed experiments. That's why we count our time together since November 1988, because that's when we started our relationship."

Jake feels his stomach turn with disgust. They are talking about his life. About his father, Sarah, Sam, and even Carole and Bradley's lives. It's all a monstrous web of lies. And the beneficiary has always been Tom "Iceman" Kazansky.

"How romantic!"

The sarcastic tone surprises the two men. But Jake doesn't give them time to say anything.

"Tell me something, Iceman. If you didn't know anything about Rachel and my father, why did your friend Slider organize the Bradshaw family move-in and my nursery setup?"

Ice's reaction is subtle, but Jake knows him very well. He notices how his pupils constrict.

"Slider is my friend too," Mav answers instead.

"Of course, a friend for transition, right? It was your lover's RIO."

"Don't talk like that, Jake. You make it sound like something dirty."

But he will not be led astray by a mere debate about polite words.

"Why did you leave her?"

"Leave her?"

"You loved Rachel. It was your chance to have a happy life, dad. Why did you leave her and went back to him?"

"I think there's a misunderstanding here," -Ice tries to use his most reasonable tone of voice, but Jake won't be fooled by good manners.

"Shut up! I don't know how you found out about their relationship. I don't know how you forced him back into your web of lies. I'm not interested."

"What are you talking about, son? I didn't love Rachel. I never…"

"You never expect me to find this?"

He takes the photo out of his pocket and holds it in the air. In the image, Pete and Rachel are sitting on the ground on the plain. Their clasped hands rest on her swollen belly.

"From where…?" -Mav's eyes are wet.

"Those photos should never have existed!" -Ice attempts to take it, but Jake moves his hand away and puts it away again.

"You have no right," he snaps. "It's not your life we're talking about!"

Pete cries with his face in his hands. Jake gets on his knees in front of his father. He gently removes her hands from his face.

"Dad, tell me the truth. Was it love?"

"Mav, no," Ice warns.

Maverick closes his eyes and bites his lips. He nods.

"The purest love," he turns to Ice, eyes shining with tears. "The purest," he repeats.

"Don't look at him. He doesn't matter. Tell me the truth, please, dad."

Tom has had enough of this nonsense. He stands up and speaks in his best officer tone.

"This conversation is over. Let's go, Pete!"

Jake stands up and faces him.

"No! You are the one who is left over in this conversation. You are nothing more than a manipulator and a blackmailer. If it weren't for the damage it would do to the rest of the family, I would report you to the admiralty."

Iceman smiles cruelly at him.

"That's right, Jake. You can't do anything. So you should consider another negotiation technique. Since I have the keys to your happiness."

"You don't have anything I want. You stole me from my mother's arms so you could play house in this parody of a suburban dream and climb up the Navy ladder. You are nothing more than a monster."

"Stop, please." -Mav moans from the couch- "I can't stand seeing you say such horrible things to each other."

Jake is at his side right away. He grabs his face to make him look straight at him.

"Dad, just tell me who she was. I beg you. You said it was love, give me that chance too. Let me find my mother. Let me love her."

"Ice, please," Mav moans. "Jake just wants the truth."

Jake can't hide his surprise. What power does Kazansky have over his father? The voice of the man whom until today he considered his second father is cold, detached.

"So you want the truth?"

He looks at him again and feels Iceman's eyes pierce his soul. He suddenly understands all the officers who trembled under that gaze. But his voice doesn't shake when he answers.

"I am entitled to the truth."

"You're a boy, Jake. You can't handle the truth."

Jake understands in that moment that all this is useless. Iceman has his father in his fist, and he doesn't have the strength to open his fingers and help him escape. But there is one thing Ice is wrong about: he is no longer a child.

"You know what, Vice Admiral Kazansky? I don't have to put up with this shit. I'm leaving."

In two strides, he is at the door to the solarium, opens it, and goes out into the hallway. Pete moves to run after him, but Tom catches him and stops him from leaving. He feels him tremble in his arms.

"No, leave it. He is furious and will not listen to you."

They stay still. Until the sound of footsteps on the gallery towards the stairs once again breaks the house's quiet.

"He's really leaving!" -Pete understands.

They start running down the stairs, too. They find their kid putting a backpack and a bag in the back seat of Sarah's Honda. Jake hasn't planned it, it just so happens that his mother left him outside the garage.

"Jake."

He stops with his hand on the door handle. Sighs. Turns to see them.

His father is leaning on the railing of the doorway, his face pale and his cheeks wet. A little further back, Iceman has his arms at his sides and his hands in fists. His face is an empty mask; only his blue eyes shine, making him look feverish.

"Don't come near me again if it's not to tell me what happened to Rachel."

Jake doesn't give them time to say anything else. He won't risk falling for their siren song. He gets into the car, starts the engine, and speeds off, narrowly avoiding the gate.

Ice watches the car drive away down the street, then lowers his gaze. His husband seems very small, crouched as he is on the floor of the porch. His back has stopped moving, a sign that he has controlled his crying.

"Mav…"

"Shut up!" -the order feels like a whiplash.

Tom takes a step back, scared. Pete struggles to his feet and wipes his face with the back of his hand.

"Do you realize what you did, Kazansky?" -oh, how the distance that the last name imposes hurts- "You put your damn secret above our son."

"He's not ready," his voice shakes, but he knows what he saw. He knows what Jake could trigger. "He can't handle the truth," he repeats.

He knows it sounds empty and spineless, but it's the truth. He didn't do it to protect himself but for Jake. He is a child. Children cannot be trusted with national security secrets. The weight of knowing who the famous Tom "Iceman" Kazansky really is would be too much for his shoulders. Jake has a bright future ahead of him and can't weigh him down with a fear anchor. He knows he'll pay for it, but, as always, his baby is worth it.

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell turns slowly. His green eyes reflect disbelief, pain, and, above all, disdain.

"Coward," he spits.

A remote part of Ice's mind notes that, even in the midst of utter desperation, Pete did not consider revealing the secret. He begged him to do it but did not give in to the temptation to do it himself. He believes he is a coward, yes, but also a man who has the right to control how and when he comes out of the closet.

Tom extents a hand. Maybe if he can remind him of everything they share... Pete always believed in him. Right? He told him that his destiny was to be an admiral, to change the Navy for the better. That they would face anything shoulder to shoulder. He said that having this defective body was not his fault. But Mav steps back with a disgusted face. Then he does something complicated with his lips, like chewing on a rotten lemon.

"I need to be alone" -and takes a significant detour to reach the house door.

Tom knows he has gone to "his" room, Carole's old bedroom, which they kept out of pure formality for a decade. Sarah will most likely go to comfort him.

Ah! So this is one of his penances. He deserves it, of course.

People think Mitchell is the sacrificial fool in this family, but that's just one of many misunderstandings. Pete is impulsive and generous, yes, but he does not accept blame that does not belong to him. That is why he has a reputation for being confrontational and a long history of behavior that borders insubordination. Instead, Tom is aware that everything he has, every minute of happiness and every triumph, was stolen. He was born in the wrong body, yet he decided to follow his dream. Never, not even in the most intense moments of ecstasy in the arms of his spouses, has Tom "Iceman" Kazansky believed that he deserves anything he has.

It is his because he has earned it.

It is his because he plays a long game of tactics and strategy against the world every day.

It's his, but it doesn't belong to him.

After twenty years of happiness, he has to pay the cost of the suburban oasis where he played house. Here's the bill: His son hates him. Jake believes that he separated him from his mother and that his relationship with Pete is not consensual.

He can live with that if it means Jake goes out into the world and becomes the greatest aviator of his generation. The key will be to keep him focused: to hate only him. Let him believe that Mav and Sarah are his victims.

If he's like Pete, that anger will eventually turn to pity, and he'll reach out again, trying to save them.

If Jake turns out to be like Tom in that regard... Ah! Resentment is a long-lasting fuel. Look how far he went with pure resentment against Colonel Levoi.

That doesn't matter now. It's time to pay, and he's ready. He has been waiting for this catastrophe since that beautiful April morning when he took his son to the sky and realized his talent. No good deed goes unpunished, they say. He has enough good and bad deeds under his belt to give Saint Peter and Lucifer headaches.

The sky is clear. There is no moon. The street lamps barely push back the darkness. Vaguely, Tom wishes it would rain. In fictional stories, it always rains when a character is on the brink of the abyss: the weather is a metaphor for their inner despair, right? Better not. Driving in the rain is dangerous, and Jake is beside himself. Thank goodness he's leaving San Diego. Jake will go to China Lake with Sundown, or Moapa Valley with Wolfe and Hollywood. It depends on how calm he is by the time he reaches Hesperia. Will Jake remember to turn north onto I-15? If the two hours he must drive there have not sated his rage, he will continue on and will not stop until Nevada. Las Vegas's lights will make him realize how far away he is.

When will he see him again?

He closes his eyes and tries remembering the last time his son gave him a kind stare. While they were having dinner. Yeah. There was a moment when Sean said something about the pool, and they shared a knowing look. It was only a few seconds. Jake quickly remembered he was upset, and his green eyes hardened.

There is no breeze on the oppressive summer night in San Diego. Nothing to help dry the tears that slide down his cheeks. He looks around. A book abandoned on the gallery sofa, the suburban street's muffled noises, and the footprints in the grass from Jake's hassle driving when leaving. The mundaneness of the setting is almost offensive.

He always knew that this thing he had built with Pete, Carole, and Sarah was so fragile that it could be destroyed by the voice of a child asking, "Where is my mom?" again and again.

For days.

For years.

For decades.

Until the glass roof broke and fell on him like a lacerating rain.

When will he feel something resembling happiness again? He doesn't know.

(In a couple of years, when the DADT Repeal changes his relationship with Maverick)

And even if he is happy again, Tom Kazansky will remember this for the rest of his life: the Saturday night when everything went to shit.

NOTE

 "Woman on the Edge of Time" is a 1976 novel by American writer Marge Piercy. It is considered a classic of utopian speculative science fiction as well as a feminist classic. Piercy draws on several inspirations to write this novel such as utopian studies, technoscience, socialization, and female fantasies. One of Piercy's main inspirations for her utopian novels is Plato's Republic. Is available on Amazon.

 

INDEX: http://palabraspulsares.blogspot.com/p/the-lies-we-told-each-other-4-roots.html