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Francis Abernathy was the shit for the gays.
All my local friends hate him. The moment he steps into a party dress in his pretentious ass looking pince-nez, button down buttoned to the top, and his cunty ass high-waisted trousers that hugged his ass perfectly, you know it's over. The gays and the guys are all around him. I say around because no one ever dared approach him. Francis Abernathy is the one who approaches you. He's got that, what my gay friends would say, "English schoolboy" look in him that sells well with the guys. Eddie, another one of my friends would even call him "Burroughs boy" for reasons I don't know. When I asked why he had told me he thinks of him as some fictional boy from William Burroughs novels. I didn't really fully understand then I guess it makes sense for them.
But I loved him for that! Francis never really caused anything in my parties unlike his friends whom I had a chance crossing paths with once and I made sure that it'll never happen again! Not ever! He's just different, that guy, he tells me always that we redheads should stick together and I dig that, you know? So yeah, I sort of like that guy.
Which is why when Richard first asked me about him, I had my fair share of suspicions. Because I know when a guy is straight and asks about Francis Abernathy, and I know when a guy who is not so straight asks about Francis Abernathy. Richard was in the middle. He doesn't have that disgusted frown in his forehead when he says his name but there's obvious curiosity in his eyes. I'm pretty sure that guy didn't even realize it. He could be extremely not self-aware at times. But also he doesn't have that intense look in him that either wants to devour Francis or kill him so I didn't really worry about it.
I told him everything I know. That Francis was part of that weird greek class and that his whole friend group was no good. That he's okay, he gets a pass at my parties and I'm pretty sure I had given him some drugs before but I really couldn't remember when. I also think that was one of the reasons some of his friends hated him. I think they don't dig the drugs. It makes them real. Makes them out of control. Makes you do things you never ought to do. But I did see that scary looking fella, Henry was it? Take some pills before but I never said anything. Even Camilla, that girl. Did her friends even know? She gets wasted as fuck sometimes but I commend her for always taking her ass back at home completely normal. Not an ounce of weakling in that frail girl's body.
And of course I told him about Francis' disinterest in women, subtle you know since it's still strictly taboo around out area, but my message was clear, the implication didn't went through Richard's head. The way his cheeks redden and the way he froze when Francis walked past him once had me howling in laughter deep inside! My boy was a mess! And it was hilarious, poor Richard.
I tried hitting on Richard though around I guess the first term he stayed there? We were basically neighbors and the guy was good looking what can I say? Sure he doesn't have that trendy pretty boy look that one of the twins had, Charles was it? Or the American grin Edmund had, or Bunny as they call him but Richard was handsome. In his own brutish way. He got this shaggy look in him, semi strong features. I particularly like his nose and the dead look in his eyes. Like he's either ran out of coffee or is high in caffeine all the time. He looks like a walking corpse who doesn't even know he looks like a walking corpse. Hunched all the time as if it would erase the fact that he's tall as a fucking lamp post, I think he got insecure about it as a child. Some tall people hate being tall you know? Not really for me, I love wearing heels, I love feeling superior being tall. But Richard doesn't.
The only time I see him looking alive is when he gets a glimpse of the greek class. When we're in the field, in the halls, cafeteria. He will always perk up at the sight of him. I supposed I should've seen him joining them coming but I'd like to say I didn't. He was a dead guy but not dead enough to join that cruel group. I had hoped his fascination with them would be over soon. But it didn't.
He's got this hunger in his eyes every time he sees Henry, until now I don't know if he likes the guy or wants to be the guy. But he sure does worship him but at the same time, I could feel he hated him. It's one of those complicated feelings you know. It's either you love them, hate them, or wants to fuck them. It blurs altogether for Richard when it comes to Henry I think.
But it's clear he wanted to fuck Francis.
Up until now it makes me laugh. The boy was a goner around him! Every time the class walks by, his eyes would automatically land at Henry and would often almost always linger on Francis. And he's awfully fascinated for some reason. It hurts to see you know. Even my gay friends find it hilarious but they never dare joke about it when Richard's around. We all felt that he'll crumble completely when confronted about the mere idea of homosexuality. So we kept silent beside him.
But I swear I knew that two would bone each other. Well, I had hoped they would bone each other. I had urged Richard enough times to come to my party at times I knew Francis would be there but he wouldn't budge. Always saying he's got somewhere to be. Helping our old professors and that sort. Well I tried but he just won't relent.
It was nearing the new term when I found out he joined them.
It came to me, to us actually, as a surprise when we realized he hasn't been sitting with us, coming to class with us when we saw him walking the fields with the weirdos. He was beaming! You can see his face radiating with fascination as they talk to him and I feel bad. Bad because I know how those pricks will treat him. I guess I had thought and worried back then that they might push him around and what not, like what elitist fucktards do to other people. But whatever he did, it worked because Richard never came back. Yes he was mostly silent when we see him with them, always wandering eyes and nodding but never really butting in to make actual conversation. That's when I knew he knew what he was doing and I shouldn't worry about him.
Francis also stopped coming to my parties. Sometimes I see Bunny but Francis had disappeared completely. We didn't know why but we figured they might be adjusting to the new routine, you know, with Richard being a new addition to the group and all?
My friends and I didn't really care, more guys for them and more guys for us. But I do miss his weird ass sometimes. I had hoped he and Richard would be friends. That boy needs someone in his life.
I see Francis coming over sometimes but it doesn't last long. Sometimes he's just there to fetch Richard, ask him for something, or maybe just to tell him something. Sometimes when I catch them on time, Richard would catch me looking and I'd give him a grin, one where he almost always brushes away. He pretends he doesn't see but I knew his ass anyways.
There was particularly one night where I swore I heard frantic knocks outside. It was late and I was sleeping. I knew it wasn't from my door but I opened it anyway and didn't see nothing, but I caught a glimpse of red hair entering Richard's room and I was exhilarated! Good for him? About time? I still didn't know if he and Francis Abernathy had boned that night but in my head they did. I fell asleep thinking of them finally boning. My friends say it's weird, I say it's about time.
I met Richard a few years later in Boston.
I was at the gift shop, trying to find the right mug for my girl when I saw him walking by. I was immediately exhilarated! I had stopped him and he offered a chat at the nearest diner and I accepted. You know it's been years.
That's when I found out about Francis Abernathy's disastrous wedding. I say disastrous because by the look on Richard's face, I know it was a disaster. My boy looked more tired than he usually did during his time in Hampden. He doesn't look old but he does look hella grown. And sad. He looks... boring. Bored more of. And I asked about it and of course it was on brand for one Francis Abernathy to rather marry a girl he despise than be poor. I had told him about this before, that those boys are out of touch with reality. Their world revolves around penny and the safety it gets them. Richard didn't really listen and now I guess he's seen the extent these boys would go to for it.
I had asked him how he felt and he was surprised about it. Told me he really couldn't do anything about it and he wasn't in a place to do so. So I told him what I had always thought.
“I thought you liked each other!”
And the way his face fell was hilarious I would've loved it framed on my bedroom wall! He looked annoyed, but he was beet red! From his ears down his neck. He tried looking at me like the mere fact that I thought of it should have me hanged but I didn't care. I laughed.
“What's wrong with what I said?”
But he didn't really say anything. Just sipped at his coffee and sighs, a frown still in his face. I think he might be extending his anger towards me so I schooled my expression down and dropped it.
“Are you satisfied with your life?”
He asked me out of nowhere. And know, I'm not the typa girl you ask deep shit about. When you ask things like that it's either I give you a complete shit or I'll give you an honest answer. So I give him that.
“I think we'll always be a little unsatisfied with our life, don't we?”
And he just sighs and looks out, listlessly. I pitied him you know. One moment he's somewhere he has always wanted to be and the next it's like he was alone again. Now I don't exactly know what happened but whatever happened to that little weird group of them, it might've scarred him in some way. You know break ups are shit but friendship breakups are no joke! It's a different kind of feeling. I feel for him completely.
We bid goodbyes and stuff when it was nearing afternoon but instead of completely letting him go, I had asked him. “Where are you off to?”
And he answered, hands in his pockets. “Francis got me a hotel for his wedding. Near the plaza.”
And I told him. “You're really letting that freak marry someone else?”
And he stared at me, I couldn't quite decipher what it meant but he just shrugs. So I rolled my eyes and told him off again. “You know you can just... stop being lonely, Richard. You know that right?”
And he gives me this look. Like he had just heard it. And I found it really funny I started laughing.
“I don't know nothing about you, or your life. I know you didn't make it work between you and Sophie but that boy and you, are not very different you know that? The both of you are just scared to be lonely. Well news flash? You don't always have to be! Just be lonely freaks together or whatnot. I'm sure overtime he'd realize that he'd rather work his ass off and be free than be caged in a matrimony.”
I really do worry about Francis too but Richard would never know that. Like I said, I did like Francis. He was one of the most confident homosexual I know inside the house, when his friends couldn't see him. He knows what he wants and he does it apologetically. And so I know this shit, marriage? Really? It won't be easy for him. I bet he'd rather die!
“And you really won't find whatever it is you're searching for, Richard.” He looks at me. “If you already know what it is.”
He doesn't speak, doesn't say anything. But I can hear him thinking from where I stand. His brain splurging words I know would be too complex and many for me to understand. So I just smiled and let him figure it out on his own.
“I hope I do see you again sometime, soon!” I tapped his shoulders and kissed his cheeks, smiling, I'm sure my nose was red from the cold. The snow was unapologetic that day and it matches my hair but I didn't care. I pat his shoulders and left.
I saw him again, but in a bookstore. He had published a book. I didn't read it, I'm no fan of reading, but my girlfriend did and she said it was weird shit but it's a good weird shit.
I was so excited I telephoned him, cigarette on my lips, I was tapping my foot impatiently on the wooden floor of the apartment we rented in LA but Richard wasn't answering and I was getting impatient and then there was a click. I beamed.
“You motherfucker!” I exclaimed. “Was I the blonde chick in your novel? I do not sound like that at all!”
But there was no answer, so I frowned. “Is this Richard Papen?”
“Who is this?” A groggy voice. Of a man. I panicked.
“Judy, Judy Poovey. Who are you?”
And a hum of recognition. “Oh, Judy.”
I was, how should I put it?
“Richard would be here in a second, he's in the bathroom.”
I was celebrating.
And not because Richard published a book.
“My god...” I was speechless. “Francis fucking Abernathy.”
“I do not recall my middle name being that.”
And I was grinning so wide I wish I could've slapped that two together but my girl was looking at me weirdly and it was kind of hard explaining the whole thing to her so I just held it in.
“Finally got both your shits together?”
Francis made a noise of opposition. “I wouldn't say it like that.”
Then a noise. “Who's that?” Richard.
“Judy, she's on the phone.”
I could hear Richard's silence from over the phone and I knew he knows I caught him. And I was grinning so wide.
“Hang up.” He had simply ordered and I was offended. I was ready to fight but I heard some, sounds, like kissing sounds, and Francis fucking Abernathy giggled before he said “Hmm, alright.” as if he wants me to hear that before the line beeped.
I was so offended, wronged, I swore when I saw them again I'd make them both pay for it. All those years, I've felt like I was somehow responsible for them, even just a fraction you know but what did I get? Nothing! Nothing of some sort!
I think I saw them next in New York, for Christmas. They were buying some gifts or whatever, Francis had this stupid reindeer headband on and Richard has this big red scarf and hat on and they look sickeningly domestic it makes me gag. I didn't bother saying hi because it was snowing and I was freezing my ass off, and our cab arrived but I was happy for them.
I sent them a card and they sent back a picture of the two of them kissing and at the bottom, in Richard's messy handwriting, it says 'Thank you'.
That felt good, you know.
That was a few years ago though. The last I heard, they visited Rome, and Europe really. Richard sent me some post cards sometimes when I ask for it. Man wouldn't reach out if you don't reach out first, you know? So I write them letters. Also to take my mind off my own personal break up, it was before I met my new girl. They send pictures back. Sometimes of the louvre, sometimes a picture of Francis getting attacked by a bunch of pigeons at the London plaza. Or wherever the hell they were. There was also the lovely Eiffel tower. It was great. I think Francis got a job in a bookshop or something, or a library? I couldn't remember. Richard still teaches. Same old, same old.
That's about everything I know about them. I'm pretty sure there's a lot of gray areas we both haven't seen or don't know. And maybe it's for them to know not for us.
I know you're a good person, Priscilla so I trust you with this. And only because my girl approved of this. It's the least we could do for you. I hope you find your peace soon.
With love,
Judy .
Ps. Oh, Camilla says to include this picture she took of your former husband (Francis being a husband still makes me laugh I apologize) and Richard from his time in Hampden so I'm sending this to you, only because my girl says so. No need for thank yous. And it wasn't your fault, any of this (well maybe).
Happy holidays from us!