UNDER THE SKIES

Mother had requested that I go to the ATM to confirm a certain payment in her account that evening. It was a cool one, with the wind howling ferociously like it was going to rain snarling cats and barking dogs that night.

The coolness of the evening brought with it a certain kind of laziness and all I wanted to do was just stay in and curl myself up until I go to sleep, an indulgence I was yet to get to, because I had a slight headache and my immediate younger brother was in the room with me, having a bit of “bro time”.

This usually doesn’t happen. I mean, I’m far older than him, six years older (the six years that passed before my father returned from overseas and suddenly realized a second child would be fine); and because of the age difference, we hardly have things to talk about. Also, personality-wise, we are worlds apart.

He is the rough, street type, and I am, well, gay.

So when Mother begged (read ‘made’) me go on that errand for her, I pleaded with my brother to come with me. I needed the company. And I was also interested in carrying on our rather interesting and somewhat awkward conversation.

He’d been talking to me about his past relationship (just the one, but with a lot of experiences with breasts and female lips). He hadn’t gone further than First Base, he promised.

Truth is, the reason I’d called him into my room in the first place was actually to confirm a suspicion of mine, one which I’d harboured for a while.

I thought my younger brother was gay.

First of all, he always complimented the looks of male musicians on TV, and he’s also much too liberal for his age, a fact I’d conveniently forgotten I had a huge part to play in. I was so bothered by my doubts over his sexuality that I had to put up a post in a gay Facebook group I’m in, asking for suggestions on how I should deal with it.

It was one of the suggestions I got that I was carrying out when Mother interrupted.

And so, as we traversed our neighbourhood, he talked and talked. He seemed to have gotten comfortable, relieved even, with the thought that I was here for him, offering him a listening ear to his romantic trials.

When it was beginning to seem like the conversation was one-sided, and because I didn’t want it to look like I was making him divulge his deepest secrets while I conveniently kept mine to myself, I asked him my first question since we left the house.

“Is there anything that you’ve always wanted to ask me, Jed? Seeing as we are opening up and revealing things, feel free to ask me anything.” (Jed isn’t his real name).

He scratched at his chin for the briefest moment, looking upwards like he is thinking deeply about what to say. We both knew he already knew what he wanted to ask even before I gave him the go-ahead to.

But he didn’t ask a question.

He made a statement.

“I know you are gay, Delle. I’ve known for a long time.”

A wave of shock knocked me off-kilter. And this reaction wasn’t necessarily because of what he said, but because he wasn’t asking. He was telling. The certainty with which he said those words had me stopping short my steps for a second.

But he wasn’t finished. It was as though he had been saving for this moment. He kept on speaking about knowing I am gay, while I listened, trying to keep an undisturbed countenance is place, even though my heart was beating rapidly within the confines of my chest.

“I’ve seen gay porn in your phone,” he said. “That was last year. A few months back, the day I came home earlier than usual from school, I saw seed in the toilet and male slippers at the front door.”

Seed? I didn’t know whether to be amused or put-off by his choice of words for cum. I mean, who still used that word in 2017. And what fifteen-year-old used such biblical terms? He wasn’t even overly religious. None of us are in my family.

I soon realized that I was focusing on something inconsequential as embarrassment took hold of my collar. I could remember the day he was talking about. And I thought I’d flushed the toilet!

He was smiling now, a placatory smile, perhaps to put me at ease just in case I was shaken up by his revelations. And damn all hell, I was!

“I love you the way you are, big bro,” he said. “In fact, I kind of like that you are gay. It makes me believe the world isn’t just made up of people like me.”

People like me.

Once again, I shrugged off the species-and-organisms undertone I thought I heard in those words. The night was already as intriguing as it could get.

On our way back home, just before the outline of our house came into view, I leaned over and in a firm tone, said to him, “This should stay be between you and me, Jed. I’ll tell the rest of the family when I’m ready. OK? I’ll do it myself.”

He smiled easily and replied, “I confirmed who my brother is even before today and never felt the need to spill. It’s not changing anytime soon.”

And just like that, it was my turn to smile.

We walked into our compound that evening, two brothers bound not just by blood anymore but by secrets untold.

What did I take out of this? Well, I can say emphatically that nothing beats a member of your family knowing the truth about you. Absolutely nothing! This occurrence may not be the typical coming out story but something tells me it will make my coming out a whole lot easier.

And I couldn’t be happier (pun intended).

Written by Delle