Summary: Jamie has a hard time sleeping. He worries, but the object of his worry makes things better.
Jamie listened to Brandon’s soft breaths, so quiet yet completely filling his senses. He was never the best of sleepers. His mind would begin working, wake him up, and then the quiet, which would isolate him, would keep him awake. But now, now he had something to fill that silence. He had the sweet sound of his beloved soft breaths. He wanted so much to just reach out and touch: to feel that beautiful face completely at rest. He knew every dip and curve, every laugh line and worry line. During the days those worry lines would dominate…a deep line that ran vertical between his brows with a less distinct one to the side of it running diagonally. Sometimes he would laugh and be so silly and cheeky and he would reach out to catch a feel of the laugh lines around his mouth and at the corners of his eyes. But here, asleep in their bed, his face would be lax and peaceful. But he rarely felt it. Just once or twice, but it would invariably wake him and Jamie didn’t want to disturb the rare moment of absolute peace that Brandon got. His heart broke to think of all the that his beloved carried on his shoulders. He would take it all away if he could. He would take it and cast it out to sea and free Brandon from the burden of fear and self-loathing he never deserved in the first place. But that wasn’t how life worked. We, each of us, have our burdens and how we handle them makes us who we are. He supposed it wasn’t right of him to even want to deny the boy his journey, but to see someone he loved so deeply suffer so profoundly was more than he could bear some days. And it was a vicious cycle because while Brandon suffered and did his best to deal with his burdens he would worry so much about the burden that put on Jamie. Jamie would in turn fear his own feelings were adding to Brandon’s. It was awful and tiring, but what else could they do. All of it was born of their love for each other.
Beside him Brandon breathing suddenly hitched and his body tensed. A small whimper worked its way up from the boy’s chest. Taking absolute care, Jamie tenderly pulled him close, rubbing at his back small circles intended to sooth him. It was the only comfort he could think to give his Dearest in the throes of yet another nightmare. He couldn’t help but feel impotent in these moments. He felt useless and helpless. Except sometimes. Sometimes you didn’t need to solve all the problems. Sometimes you didn’t need to win the case. Sometimes you didn’t need to prove yourself the best. Sometimes you just had to show up. You just needed to be there and…. be. With a snuffle, a held breath, and then a deep sigh, Brandon’s body finally relaxed again. Jamie mirrored the actions – breathe, sigh, relax. He smiled. All of his late night tensions seeped away and he found himself drifting off. He’d soothed Brandon and without even knowing it he’d soothed Jamie right back. They helped carry each other’s burdens. Maybe that was exactly how it was supposed to be.
Summary: there are moments throughout our lives that made us the people we are
Five-year-old Jamie Latimer is determined. He is determined to get to the top shelf. He knows that they go higher than he can feel and he knows that his cousins can climb all the way to the top. He also knows that the ones you can tap the ceiling are the ones who are the top dogs. Everyone takes a turn. Some are scared. Jamie knows because their voices sound different when they talk. Some don’t do it and the scorn is merciless. When it is his turn something strange happens though. It gets quiet. No one teases him as he pauses with his hand on the highest shelf he can reach from the ground. Then a voice peeps up. “Jamie shouldn’t do it.” Then another. “Yeah, he might get hurt.” “The parents’ll get maaad!” a third declares. “How’s he even gonna know when he gets to the top?” “Yeah?” a couple shout nearly in unison. “Shut up everyone!” Roger, who is the oldest stops all the chatter. He is eleven and generally left in charge though Jamie isn’t sure that is always a good idea since Roger mostly likes to do things like let all the kids climb the built-in book shelf up to the ceiling. But Jamie likes it because he’s always fun. Just like all the cousins he looks up to Roger. He listens as the boy comes close. There is a hand on his shoulder and a soft voice. “Hey, you don’t gotta do it Jamie. It’s not really safe for you. Ok?” And he suddenly feels very scared, very small, and very vulnerable. Dropping his hand he steps back, nodding the whole time. Katrina goes next and being the daredevil that she is touching the ceiling to the cheers of the rest in no time at all. Sam is after her and he takes a long long time to finally start and a long long time to get to the top. The gang of kids tease and taunt the terrified boy the whole time. No one taunted him, no one teased or disparaged him in anyway. He was different. He was different and he didn’t like it. The parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents all come in as a summer rain has started spoiling the outdoor picnic by the pond and also spoiling the fun. As the adults come in the kids go out, happy to run around in the rain and get muddy playing on the banks of the creek and eventually in the creek. Jamie doesn’t go outside though. He takes a book off the shelf and sits on the sofa next to his father and lets his fingers glide across the page. He tries to let the story take his mind away, but the whole time all he is thinking about is that damn shelf and how he’d failed. Why had they all let him? Why was he different?
Eventually the families all departed. The monthly gathering of all the Latimers and all the Tysons was over once again. The hired help cleaned up while Fran and Jake said the final goodbyes and made sure that anyone who had drunk too much got cab rides home. Before long Jamie’s father was scooping him up and blowing a raspberry on his stomach before carrying him up to bed. He heard the click of the light and the light shadowy haze of his vision became total darkness. He wasn’t going to sleep though. Waiting to hear his parents puttering around here and there and then making noises in their room before quiet overtook the house. He didn’t like being awake after all the noises stopped. It was the worst and usually had him running for his parent’s room to climb in their bed, but not tonight. Tonight he had a goal. Tonight he had a mission. He waited a long time to be sure that they were definitely asleep and then crept out of bed, along the hall, past his parent’s room, and down the stairs. He knew the house perfectly. It was a world he didn’t need to see to know where he was going. Each wall and piece of furniture was etched into his mental map, even that squeaky stair third from the bottom which he went over easily.
A few walls and turns later he was in the big living room in front of the built-in bookshelf. The night wore on as the little boy stood there making his decision, steeling himself to do what he thinks he should have done ten hours earlier. Finally, he put a hand on the shelf in front of him and his foot on a lower one and began to climb. Once he was off the ground the doubts began. How many shelves were there, how high was it, how would he know when he was there, what if it took all night, what if he was going the wrong way? The worries had him stopping at one point feeling adrift in the world unsure of where to go next and read to call out for help. But his mind drifted back to earlier in the day to the cheers of his cousins as each person got all the way to the top and achieved the goal. He let the remembered sound ring through his mind. He remembered how long each person had taken, even slow and scared Sam had managed to do it in not too much time. That meant that the ceiling had to be within reach soon. He began to climb again, imagining Roger yelling ‘You can do it!’ Jamie was so lost in the fantasy he didn’t realize he was at the ceiling until he was bumping his head on it. He smiled brightly and tapped it with his hand and then froze when he heard the squeaking of this parent’s bed. Holding his breath, he waited and waited, but the squeaking stopped and all was quiet again. Letting out the breath he’d been holding, the little boy began the descent which could have been as scary as the climb if it wasn’t a very different boy who climbed down from the one who went up. This boy was never going to let anyone else tell him what he could do ever again. When his small bare foot touched the cool hardwood of the living room floor, Jamie hopped down and threw his hands up in the air in victory. The victory was short lived however because there was more creaking from upstairs. He had no time to waste. Rounding the corners, up the stairs, past his parent’s room where he could hear mumbled voices, and into his room he made it just in time to hear his father’s heavy footsteps come toward his room and open the door. He pressed his eyes closed tight pretending to sleep as the man came close and kissed the top of his head. “Love you, kiddo.” The smile that spreads across his face is as much about that love as it is about his triumph.
Summary: Jamie wants to show his parents that he is responsible
Other: this is very long : )
Ten-year-old Jamie Tyson was being left home alone for the first time. It was only for an hour; the time it would take his parents to get home after his babysitter Iris had to leave early for an appointment. Iris had been watching Jamie since he was two and she was fifteen. Her sister was visually impaired and she was one of the few people the boy tolerated helping him do things. That was because she not only helped him, but taught him how to do it herself.
But now she was twenty-three, married, and expecting her first child. In just a few months she’d be gone. Jamie had overheard all the discussions his parents had about hiring someone new, but he had his own ideas about this. He was a big kid now, he was riding a horse, going to regular school and really did he need a babysitter? The name itself implied that he was a baby. He was not a baby. Being left alone for this short time was the perfect opportunity to show his parents how well he could take care of himself.
With the plan in place he said goodbye to Iris with their usual secret handshake and a big smile. He reassured her about a million times that he was perfectly fine and she didn’t need to worry. He locked the door behind her knowing she would be listening and probably check as well. The little jiggle he could hear told him that he was right. Listening to her retreating footsteps and the motor of her little Honda starting up and then receding away from the ranch house told him that he was finally alone. He whooped and ran to the living room. He spent ten minutes jumping on the sofa, but when he jumped and came back down over thin air and landed with a crash and knocking his head against the coffee table, he decided a concussion would not impress his parents. No, he needed to be safe and responsible. The next fifteen minutes were spent listening to SpongeBob until he got bored because it was episodes that he’d heard a thousand times already.
Rowena probably needed a treat, he decided. Usually he and Iris would bring some carrots or sugar cubes or apples out to her and the other horses at this time of day. He didn’t see any reason to change the routine. After all he wanted to show his parents that he was responsible. Sitting in front of the tv wasn’t being very responsible. He found some carrots in the fridge and happily stepped out the back door, snagging the cane that was always left on a hook by the large French doors that led to the expansive back yard and the stables not too far away.
“Hi girl.” He greeted as the horse came snorting up to the fence. He held out his hand knowing that she would come to him. He giggled in the boyish way that his mother was so glad he still had even though he often seemed like twelve going on forty. “Hey that tickles.” Once the carrot was gone he pet her neck for a long time, talking to her about his great plan to become an independent man of the world who most certainly didn’t need a babysitter. She snorted her agreement like he knew she would. After giving her another carrot and one each to his mother and father’s horses, he readjusted his cane and went back into the house.
Once back in the house, Jamie went to his mother’s desk and tapped the top of the talking clock. “The time is 4 o’clock and 23 minutes.” Still another thirty-seven minutes to go until his mother and father got home. That was a lot of time to sit around and be responsible. He wished Iris was there to play cards with him and make him a snack. At the thought his stomach began to grumble as if on que. One of the big rules was no using the stove or oven unless someone was there, but there were plenty of other things that could be made without the use of flame and heat of any kind. Peanut butter and Jelly sandwiches didn’t need to cook and they were the best snack there was.
Decision made Jamie set about making his sandwich. It should have been really really easy, but the problem was that young Jamie didn’t really spend much time in the kitchen, unless it was to eat his mother’s cookies as they came out of the oven or sitting on a chair talking with his father while the big man brewed his morning coffee. But as far as knowing his way around the room…. well, not so much. How hard could it be to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?
The first cabinet that he thought the bread was in turned out to have a lot of little bottles and various boxes. The only thing that felt big enough to be bread, ended up being way too heavy and when he opened it turned out to be filled with a powdery substance, flour, he guessed. And ok, maybe he played with it a little. It was neat to play with cool and slippery so who could blame it. After finally putting it away he went back to searching. The next cabinet proved successful and he pulled out two pieces of bread and set them on the counter and put the bag away. He’d heard his mother tell he father to clean as he went so that they didn’t have a big mess to clean after cooking dinner. He wanted to show her he had listened and learned. Now he needed the peanut butter. He knew where that was kept because sometimes he put some on the apple slices for Rowena. What he hadn’t quite counted on was how messy and sticky it was. It was hard to spread on the slice of bread without getting it everywhere, finally he decided against the knife and just used his fingers, carelessly and unsuccessfully wiping his fingers on his shirt when he was done.
The next step was the most delicious. Grape jelly. The best of all jellies. However, it was going to also be the most difficult to find. He knew the approximate size of the jar, knew it would be in the refrigerator, but other than that. He had no idea where to find it. Well, standing around with just a peanut butter sandwich to show for it was no good. So he opened the fridge and started to search. He started at the top on the door and opened every cool feeling glass jar he found, opening it and sniffing it. There was the yummy smelling ????, something aromatic and spicy smelling, a jar of slimy smelly fishy stuff, one that reminded him of his mother’s bread fresh out of the oven, and finally after searching the door and the top shelf the unmistakable smell of sweet grapy goodness.
He brought the bottle to the counter… or at least he almost got the jar to the counter. He miscalculated and hit it against edge of the granite dropping the cracked jar with a start as he jumped back. The sound of shattering glass was deafening in the huge quiet house. Jamie stood stock still for long long minutes not knowing what he should do. He didn’t know what was where, just that at his feet was a mess of grape jelly and broken glass. His lip trembled in fear but his mom had told him so many times that the only thing he ever had to be afraid of was his own being scared. There was nothing he couldn’t do and not being able to see wasn’t an excuse. He walked backward out of the kitchen to the front door. His hiking boots were lined up second from the door, next to his church shoes. Once his shoes were on so his feet wouldn’t get cut, he hurried to the laundry room. The middle basket was the one for towels and sheets. His dad was in charge of laundry and kept everything very organized so that Jamie could help. He felt in the basket for towels, retrieving three or four before making his way to the kitchen.
With a grim expression on his ten-year-old face, towels in hand, Jamie bent down at the entrance to the kitchen and pushed the towel ahead of him until he came into contact with the jelly. He cheered himself and set about pushing the mess into one compact pile. The process went a little like this. The jelly glass mess was gathered into one pile, the towels were then deposited back into the middle hamper, the broom was used to push the mess into the dustbin and then thrown into the garbage, and then an entire roll of paper towel was used to get the rest. Problem solved.
Jamie retrieved his definitely just peanut butter sandwich, poured a big glass of milk, and then sat at the kitchen table as proud as if he’d just climbed Mount Everest. And just in time too. He heard the car pull up out front and the front door open not long after.
“Jamie? Where are your sweetie? Did everything….” His mother’s voice trailed off her footsteps started into the kitchen.
“I’m right here mommy.” He held up his sandwich. “And look I made my own snack. See I’m real responsible. I cleaned up and everything.”
Fran Latimer had only a split second to take it all in. There were jelly footprints leading in and out of the kitchen, there was flour and peanut butter smeared on the granite countertop, some in the perfect shape of little handprints, the refrigerator was slightly ajar, on the floor was what looked like a messy purple lumpy crop circle, and the garbage was over-flowing with jelly stained paper towel. But just to her right was the smiling, proud face of her little boy. No, he was not ready to be left alone with a sitter no ten-year-old was, but Jamie didn’t need to know that right in that moment. She skirted the edge of the jelly circle with her Pradas and came over to hug him, wiping a spot of peanut butter from his cheek. “You are very responsible and I love you so very much.”
Summary: Wherein Jamie thinks babies are just loud, smelly little bundles of chaos until he holds one that is.
Jamie was on spring break from his senior year at Berkeley. He was well over needing to go and be wild with his friends. He had two theses to write and would rather use his time for research than getting drunk. The problem was that his cousin Stephanie was visiting with her new baby. His mother and father who were in all ways reasonable and logical people seemed to have gone crazy. He could hear the longing in his mother’s voice every time she talked about how ‘wonderful’ it would be to have a grandchild. For his part Jamie was completely uninterested. Not only did he think babies were just loud, smelly little bundles of chaos, he also had doubts about his ability to be a good parent for a whole host of reasons.
So he simply rebuffed his mother, letting her down easily but firmly. He told her there were no grandchildren in her future but she had Stephanie’s little baby Gus to spoil and that would have to be enough. He went about his business writing his papers and keeping his hands in his books and that was that. Or it would have been if Stephanie hadn’t burned her hand making dinner one night. His mother pulled a book out of his hand and set a small wiggly thing in his arms. “Hold him so I can see to Steph.” She commanded in that voice that you didn’t dare disobey.
At first he held the baby with the disgruntled air of someone holding a very motion sensitive bomb made of stinky cheese. But little Gus was just so warm and making such sweet cooing noises that Jamie couldn’t help but reach out. Almost immediately a tiny hand grabbed his finger and held on. He laughed as his finger was pulled into a mouth and gently gummed. To say he was entranced would be an understatement. When his mother and Stephanie came back he had the baby tucked into the crook of one arm and was reading aloud from a book on peace treaties of the Protestant Reformation and he would end up spending the rest of his stay taking every chance to hold his tiny cousin as much as possible and a brand new desire to someday be a father. He knew he didn’t need to see his mother’s smug expression to know it was there.
Title: What are you afraid of? What keeps you up at night?
Author(s): A
Character(s) Involved: Jamie Latimer
Word Count: 626
Trigger Warning(s): none
Genre: Third Person Narrative
Summary: You can’t fill every moment with sound. Eventually there will be silence
Jamie left the club without a companion for the evening. That had been harder and harder to do in the recent months. It was harder to fool himself the he needed more than a warm body to take home. It was harder to justify… until he got home to the empty condo that was. Then he wished like hell he had just grabbed the nearest hand.
He walked to the kitchen and downed two big glasses of water to ward off a hangover in the morning and then made his way to the bedroom. He toed off his shoes and placed them carefully in their place in the closet. There was nothing much in his life that he could do haphazardly. Not if he wanted to maintain his independence anyway. So he went through the motions of getting ready to bed, everything done in its order, everything gotten and put away in its place. Once ready he pulled a giant legal folder out of his bag intending to get some work done. Reading a dense contract might just distract and tire him enough that he actually fell asleep quickly.
It was only fifteen minutes into reading with only the tick tick tick of the bedside clock to keep him company for the tv to come on. He sighed in relief as the silence retreated. The inane babble of a late night talk show filled the background as he went back to a particularly tough passage about profit sharing. His fingers flew across the dots on the page and his heartbeat went back to normal, though he’d deny with his dying breath that it had been anything but normal to begin with.
Half an hour later he’d figured out a way to word things that would give his client a favorable loophole for the future and his eyes were starting to droop. The contract was carefully put back into his bag, the bag was hung from its hook by the door, the tv was turned off, and then he climbed into bed. The clock continued its tick tick tick as Jamie closed his eyes, willing sleep to come quickly. But it didn’t. The silence and the darkness stretched out before him and he was alone; adrift; scared. He sighed in frustration and reached over to the clock opening the face to feel the hands. 3:30. 3: 30 in the morning and he had to get up for work in just three more hours. He rearranged the blankets, the pillows and dropped his head down again. Sleep dammit, just sleep.
But there would be no sleep, just the silence. The thing he feared more than anything. Silence, robbing him of yet another connection to the world. Silence reminding him of how lost and how alone he was. He played at not needing anyone, not needing any help. He fought to show everyone, even himself, that he was perfectly able, perfectly capable of doing anything and everything by himself. But here in the darkness and the quiet all of that was stripped away and he was just a blind, helpless boy. He wiped away a tear refusing to acknowledge it. The night inched forward until the light of day crept in through the windows filling his vision with a warm glow and the sound of morning traffic filtered up from the Denver streets. The lawyer was exhausted, but somehow euphoric. Another night gone.
He got up, showered, dressed in his suit of armor and smiled as he went to slay the dragons of the day and left the silence for another night.
