Talking to Small Children
In Chapter 28 of Carry That Weight: There is a lot going on, here, in this chapter. Paul reads Sophie's surprising letter and gloats over his beautiful daughter, remembering the day he had finally shared his secret with John, and John -- in a tender moment between them -- made a promise to Paul he would actually keep. Paul also realizes, much to his shame, that he, not John, is the more wayward father. Meanwhile, a highly amused John Dawson agrees to run an errand for Paul, who is capable of falling apart very quickly, and still suffering flashbacks.
How people speak to each other (and themselves) when that are needy or in trouble became a very unplanned, but thorough, part of this. Hopefully you “will laugh, you will cry!” I hope you like it.
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John leaned over then, planting a small, tender kiss on Paul’s cheek. “Why haven’t you told me before,” he couldn’t help asking.
Paul shook his head, unwilling to speak for a moment. Finally, he swallowed, as though his throat was tight. “Partly for Sophie’s sake, I think. Her business is her own, you know?”
John grunted in agreement.
“But really…” He looked up at John, his eyes wary, and a little wet. “John… Sorry to say it, but I… I couldn’t have borne it if you’d made a joke, or teased me about, about Michelle. I just…” his voice trailed off.
“You couldn’t trust me,” John said quietly, having trouble holding Paul’s gaze. He knew all too well what Macca was saying. “Couldn’t trust that I’d not find a way to hurt you with her, if I wanted to hurt you?”
Paul shook his head again, but it became a discreet nod. He swallowed once more and looked away as one tear slipped down his face. “Maybe,” he admitted, as his stammer came on again. “Maybe I couldn’t feel really safe to tell you until you had a baby of your own, and you know, und-”
John gently removed Julian’s photo from Paul’s hands, and placed both children’s pictures on the nightstand. He placed the bottle of scotch on the floor. “Lay with me,” he whispered, nudging his partner down to the bed.
“No, John, I’m not in the m--”
“Shh, shush, Macca, I just want us to lay together, yeah? We’ve both had too much drink for more than that, anyway – it’d be sloppy. Come on. Kick off your shoes, love, and just lay down.”
Paul obeyed, reluctantly at first, unwilling to relax or to meet John’s eyes, which bothered Lennon, but only a little, because he was wholly aware of the distrust he’d earned. Their very conversation this hour had inadvertently – uninvitedly – brought home the full weight of the many ways he’d mistreated his lover – with Brian, in Spain; with Stu, everywhere; with the Exi’s in Hamburg; with so many others, at a thousand turns and parties.
Through the years he had hurt Paul, over and over, and had done so simply because he could. Because somewhere in his ever-fevered brain, he knew that what Paul gave him -- had been giving him since they were kids -- was unconditional, and therefore trespassable.
And John had trespassed again, and again.
You can Read it All at A03
