St. Marys, Ohio - Spring 2002

“Ill be right there, Grandma,” Kurt called from the back yard. He was sitting in the swing his father made him, watching the birds build a new nest in the apple tree. He knew he had to go in and help with dinner, but he didnt want to. He hated to go in the house now. He used to love coming home from school and running up the stairs to see his mother, but now....

“Wipe your shoes, darlin,” Grandma Reenie said as he walked in the back door.

“Yes, Maam,” Kurt said automatically. He walked to the small sink in the corner of the mud room and washed his hands, wiping them dry on the tea towel that he knew his mother had embroidered. It was a basket of kittens, all holding little grocery bags and underneath was stitched Market on Thursday. He remembered sitting on her bed as she sat propped up, sewing basket to her side. He was allowed to take the long skeins of new thread, in all the bright colors, and wind them carefully onto little pieces of cardboard to keep them neat in the old wooden box with the sliding top.

“You feeling all right, Kurt?” Grandma asked, putting her cool hand on his forehead.

“Just hot from running, I think,” he answered, walking over to the drawer in the kitchen to count out the silverware for supper.

As he set the table, he wondered if the house would ever be the same without his mother in it. She had brightened up every day of his life. Even at the end, just after Christmas, when she couldnt sit up in bed any more, she tried to eat the Turkish Delight he and Grandma made her. She smiled at him, running her fingers through his hair and saying “Chestnut...so beautiful...” before her eyes closed in sleep.

It was five days after that she died. She was at home, his dad and grandmother with her. Dad called him into the room, lifting him to the bed and he kissed her cheek one last time. Her eyes opened and she reached her hand to touch him, he met her fingers halfway and that was it. She relaxed into the bed and he could tell by his fathers face that she wasnt going to wake up again.

Hed gone to the funeral, walking between his father and grandmother, knowing most of the town was there, but he couldnt say now who he saw. It was all a blur.

Grandma told him that his mother was loved by everyone she ever met, but that wasnt news to him. He and Mommy walked all over town and everyone they met knew Mommy. She was just so wonderful, always a kind word for every person she met. He wondered if he could grow up to be that kind of person, to be someone that loved everyone. Someone that everyone loved.

“Kurt, eat your supper, son. Grandma made it special for you,” Burt said, seeing that Kurt was just sitting there, fork halfway from his plate and staring out the window. Kurt nodded at his dad and put the forkful of mashed potatoes in his mouth.

“I got a call from my uncle today,” Burt said.

“Arthur? How is he?” Grandma asked.

“Hes fine, but his partner decided to move out west somewhere – I think he said Nevada. He wanted to know if I wanted to buy the partners share in the shop. What do you think?” he asked.

Grandma didnt answer and Kurt looked up to realize his dad had directed the question at him.

“Ahh...where is it?” Kurt asked. He didnt remember his Uncle Arthurs shop in town.

“Lima.”

“Wheres that?” Kurt asked.

“About half an hour northeast of here,” he said.

“We can stay here, right?” Kurt asked, suddenly beginning to panic. He didnt want to leave this house behind.

“I dont know yet, buddy, Im going to have to go and see Arthur. Nothing is changing right now, so dont worry,” Burt tried to calm his son, but underneath Kurt was very afraid.

~ ~ ~ KB ~ ~ ~

St Marys, Ohio – Late Summer 2002

“Kurt, can you go out on the porch and see if I left my shawl on the porch swing?” Grandma Reenie asked. Kurt ran out the front door to check and brought it back in for her.

“Thank you, honey,” she said, kissing the top of his head. She folded the shawl neatly and placed it on the arm of the sofa.

“Are we going to church?” Kurt asked.

“Its Sunday, of course we are, what did you think?” she asked.

“Can I wear my shiny shoes?”

“Yes, you can, but hurry. We dont want to be late,” she called up the stairs as Kurts chubby little legs disappeared around the bend in the stairs. They went on to church, Kurt going downstairs to sit in the Sunday school class. He didnt like it, not knowing any of the other children who were all good friends with each other. So he sat still, listened to the teacher, and waited for it to be over before running up the stairs to find his grandmother. He hadnt gone to church before Grandma came.

The family had settled into a sort of schedule now. Kurt was off for another five weeks before school started and he spent most of his days in his backyard, playing quiet games by himself, or in his room reading. He didnt have any friends over and never went to anyones house. Reenie was worried about him, but all of her hints and then downright talks with her son-in-law netted nothing.

“Hes getting over his grief at losing his mother. I dont think we should push him, hell let us know when he wants to socialize again,” Burt said. Reenie had no choice but to agree, Burt was his parent, after all. At least he agreed that her place was to stay for now. She hoped he liked having her there to do the housework, she had felt useful again for the first time since her husband, her beloved Brian, died.

After months of letting Kurt feel his grief, Reenie had enough and was bound and determined to get that boy out of his fantasy world of fairy stories and imaginary play pals. She knew Kurt was different, her Elizabeth had talked to her about it. Beth had known Kurt was capable of deeper feelings than other children his age. He liked to sit on the sidelines and watch, making detailed judgments instead of jumping into the fray. Kurt was delicate in some ways, his fragile-looking skin hiding the iron will underneath. Reenie recognized that iron will and was determined to bring it out. She thought about a way to get Kurt to live within the community again, but he wasnt cooperative, always wanting to be by himself. That was fine to a point, but he needed to do something useful in life -not just live inside himself and let the grief eat away at him.

“Kurt, honey, I have something Id like you to do today,” she told him one morning.

“Sure, Grandma, what do you need?”

“Were going to go on a visit, please dress in neat clothing, but not new things. You might get dirty, so keep that in mind,” she said, allowing him to pick his own clothes. He liked to do that and he was good at it, even at this young age.

He returned, wearing nice shorts and a shirt that were not new, but made him look presentable.

She put him in the car and drove out of town to a berry farm where he helped her pick three pounds of raspberries. He got dirty, fussed about it a bit, but had a good time since almost as many berries went into his mouth as into the bucket. By the time they were back in the car, he was tired and happy.

First she was going to teach him how to make the perfect pie crust. She got out a lump of lard and the flour, showing him how it was done and they baked it with the clay marbles to keep it from bubbling.

Next she showed him how to wash the berries and the proper amount of sugar to add along with bits of water, corn starch, and butter. They cooked the mixture, then folded in the other half of the berries and poured it into the shell. She showed him how to dust powdered sugar over it with a fine sieve to make it pretty.

“Can we serve it to Daddy for dessert?” Kurt asked.

“Yes, we can this time. Next time I have a plan for it. Now, lets get supper started, but we have enough berries left to make three more pies. Well do that tomorrow,” she said and Kurt grinned. He decided he loved learning to bake pies from his grandmother.

~ ~ ~ KB ~ ~ ~

The first raspberry pie was wonderful, and ten times so because his father praised his cooking and his willingness to help. The next day, Grandma let Kurt do most of the work in making the three pies. He did a great job, remembering all the small details of how to do it and only needed some help when it came to rolling out the crust.

It was Saturday night and Kurt was sent to bed early, they had church in the morning. As usual, Kurt went to Sunday School with the other kids, but sat by himself. The teacher asked him if he wanted to sit up front, but he politely declined and she left him alone. After Sunday School, he ran up the stairs to stand with his grandmother, his favorite thing to do on Sunday mornings because he was proud of how everyone spoke politely to her. It was almost as good as the times he was with his mother when they waved at everyone in town.

“All right, now. Kurt, we are going to visit the Shut-ins,” she said.

“The what?” he asked.

“The Shut-Ins. People too old or sick to come to church. We are going to go visit them so they arent lonely,” she told her grandson. Kurt rolled this over in his mind. He remembered the words -was it his mother that had mentioned shut-ins? It must have been a long time ago when she was well and could do things like drive the car. He sat quietly in the car as his grandmother drove.

They came to the first house, a small brick one with a neat lawn and trimmed bushes. Grandmother got out, took a pie from the back seat and handed it to Kurt. They marched up to the little house. A little lady came to the door.

“Hello, Mrs. Fowler, how are you feeling today?” Grandma asked. The lady frowned and told her to come in. They came in and sat where Mrs Fowler indicated.

“And who is this?” the lady asked.

“This is my grandson, Kurt Hummel,” she told her. “He made an extra pie last night and thought you might like it,” Grandma smiled.

“What kind of pie? I dont like pumpkin,” the woman said, but with a small smile. She looked timid and Kurt realized she was not grouchy as he first thought, she was just shy.

“Grandma and I picked the raspberries from a farm, then she taught me to make the pies. I hope you like fresh raspberries,” he said.

He got a slightly bigger smile from her.

“Would you like me to serve some for us?” Mrs Fowler asked.

“Not today, we have several others to visit, but you have a good day,” Grandma said after they had visited for a while and they left, Mrs Fowler smiling as they got back in the car.

They went to two more houses that day, giving a pie to two brothers who had moved back in together when their wives passed and to a tiny cottage where a woman had six children and a sick husband.

“There, now how do you feel about visiting, Kurt?” Grandma asked. She could see that Kurt was interested in their morning, and the glow that grew in his face each time he gave away a pie told her everything she wanted to know. Reenie almost cried, seeing her daughters best traits in her grandson.

“I loved it, Grandma. Can we do it again next week?”

And so for the next year, Kurt learned how to cook and how to bake and he went visiting shut-ins with his grandmother every Sunday.

~ ~ ~ KB ~ ~ ~

“Im sorry, Kurt, but we have to do this,” Burt said to Kurt one evening during supper. I dont want to sell this house any more than you do, but it has to be done. I cant make a living in St. Marys. Im going to have to take the risk and throw in with my uncle, your Great Uncle Arthur, to own his shop with him,” Burt said, tears in his eyes as he saw his sons heart break.

They had been over this a hundred times. Burt had been working with his uncle and driving to Lima every day, but with the fuel shortage and now that Grandma wasnt able to drive because of her poor eyesight, they were going to have to move.

Kurt was distraught, but there was no other way to keep afloat. He was eleven years old now and should be able to understand certain things. He knew that, but to give up the house that held all of his memories of his mother – it was too much.

Burt excused himself from the table and went up to his room, closing the door quietly. He just wanted to be alone. He missed Elizabeth as much as they did, and it was harder on him to be the one to make the decision to sell. He wondered how he was going to do it.

“Kurt, honey, come here,” Grandma said and Kurt went over, putting his arms around her shoulders. He was trying to mop up his tears with his sleeve but Grandma took a hanky out of her sleeve and wiped his face.

“I know you miss your mam, I do. I miss her, too. And your dad probably misses her more than anyone. Do you know how hard this is for him? He worked all his life to have a good life for you, Kurt. And now – he has to sell the house he picked out with your mother, the one they wanted you to grow up in. But he has no choice because its the way life is right now. You love your dad, dont you?”

Kurt nodded, his tears falling faster.

“You understand why he has to move, right?”

Nod.

“Then why dont you go up and give your dad a cuddle, try to make his life a little brighter. Your mother would be proud of you for it.”

Kurt ran up the stairs, knocking gently on his parents room and let himself in.

“Im sorry, Daddy. I love you. I just had so many memories in this house – but I know it is harder on you because you had more. Ill help you pack, okay? We can find another house that needs to have new memories made in it, okay?” he said, then crawled into the bed and hugged his father.

“I love you, kid,” Burt said.

~ ~ ~ KB ~ ~ ~

The Hummel family moved to Lima just in time. Uncle Arthur retired a few days after he signed the shop over to Burt. He was just waiting for him to show he wanted to work hard to get it.

Kurt was entering junior high in a few days and he was dreading it. He didnt know a soul in this town except old Uncle Arthur, and he didnt make friends easily. Since Grandma had been sick they didnt go visit shut-ins any more, so Kurt was content with baking and reading and helping to care for the house.

Grandma Reenie made sure he knew how to clean and cook and take care of the yard. Kurt had taken over just about all of her chores in the past year. He was getting old enough now to take care of himself.

It happened in the middle of the night. Kurt was in his bedroom in the basement when he heard a racket and a scream. He jumped from the bed, racing up the stairs and found his father bent over Grandma Reenie.

Three hours later, Burt carried Kurt inside the house, stopping to push the door closed with his foot. Grandma had broken her hip quite badly when she tripped over her nightgown in the dark hallway. The ambulance arrived and gave her some pain medication, then took her to the hospital, Burt and Kurt following. They had to operate, and Kurt kissed her cheek as they wheeled her down the hall. She held his hand and said, “Always find the kind things to do – it is better to be kind than to be right in this world”.

Kurt had been sitting on a plastic chair next to his dad for over an hour when a doctor clad in green scrubs came out and motioned Burt over. He spoke to him for a few minutes and left. Burt came over to tell Kurt for the second time that the woman that was the center of his life was gone.

Kurt tried to tell himself it was for the best. She had been ninety-two and was tired. She gave up everything to come to America, then again when first her husband and then her daughter died. She had come into Kurts life and made a difference, had loved him like his mother did. He knew it was her time, but he was going to miss her.

~ ~ ~ KB ~ ~ ~

Lima, Ohio October 2010

Kurt sat in math, drumming his pencil against the table. It was one of those funny days when it looked like the sun would shine, then the wind came up and it was freezing by the time school let out. He was glad he had his thick winter coat in the car.

“Kurt?” came a whispered shout from the seat over two spaces. Mercedes Jones.

He turned toward her, raised an eyebrow. He was not going to get caught talking in class.

“Pencil, please?” she mouthed, holding up her broken pencil for him to see. He nodded and got another one out of the pouch in his notebook, handing it to her when Mr. Londeen turned his back to print yet another problem on the board.

Kurt liked Mercedes. She was quick-witted like he was, and held herself in a way that people respected. She took no guff off of anyone about who she was. For some reason she really liked the shy boy that sat quietly in class and always had his homework done. He was sweet-tempered and good to look at.

If he had a drawback, it was that he was too shy. She had hinted that she would like to spend some time with him, lots of time. Maybe some private time. He was always polite and friendly, but no hints ever pierced that shell he wore. He was becoming a goal for her. And Mercedes liked earning the goals in her life.

“Thank you for the loan of your pencil in class, Kurt,” she said in a honey-filled voice, putting her hand on his chest as she put the pencil in his breast pocket.

“Sure, Cedes. Anytime,” he said, oblivious as always to her flirting. She sighed. Loudly. They were walking down a back hallway – he on his way to the parking lot and she on her way to Glee club. She stopped him outside the door, looked around to make sure nobody was coming, and planted a kiss on his lips. It was a very quick, dry, chaste kiss, but...a kiss just the same. He stared at her as she grinned at him and slipped through the door to her club meeting.

Kurt staggered to his car. What the hell? He had done nothing other than to loan her a pencil and she...kissed him? How strange was that? He had no idea what to think. He sat in his car, thinking for a long time. He had thought several times about kissing someone, but not anyone he knew at school. He watched shows and movies and thought some people were good looking, but rarely did he think about kissing them.

When was he going to face it? He did find some people attractive - just not ones like Mercedes Jones. No, he found himself looking at different people. Male people. He would follow a good looking guy with his eyes down the hall, wondering what he might look like under his jeans, what his kiss might taste like. Kurt sighed, too upset to name what his problem was. He put the keys into the ignition and drove out of the parking lot.

Kurt didnt go anywhere after school like most kids. He didnt hang around at the mall, or go to a friends house. He didnt have a friend close enough to go visit. He knew his dad was working late tonight, so he sent a text message to tell him that he was going to do some studying and hed be a bit late. His dad replied to be careful and hed pick up something on the way home for supper.

Kurt took off for the highway going southwest of Lima. It took him 34 minutes to get to the cemetery in St Marys.

It wasnt the first time hed been there, but he didnt come often. He just needed a quiet place to sit and think. He wished he could talk to his mom now. She would understand what was wrong with him. He told her in his mind, describing the swirling thoughts he had as his body betrayed him. He had been going through puberty for two years now and knew about certain things – they were quite evident – and could take care of those himself, but he was confused about the other stuff, the emotional stuff.

He sat there for almost an hour, but he needed to get back home. He walked back down the footpath and stopped at his grandmothers grave. She died in Lima, but they buried her between her husband and daughter. Kurt came close to her stone, touching it.

“Mommy would have understood me,” Kurt murmured as he thought of his grandmother, “but you would have known what I can do about it.”

He got back in his car, threw on the warmer jacket because it was getting colder, and drove home.

~ ~ ~ KB ~ ~ ~

It took less than a week before Mercedes was back at it, flirting and giggling with him. Kurt liked her, but it was getting embarrassing and he felt he was doing her a disservice by not telling her. So, one day after school he invited her to the local ice cream parlor. She went with him, a smile on her face.

“I think we need to talk, Cedes,” he started and she looked into his eyes with so much happiness in her face.

“I think Id like that, Kurt. What did you want to talk about?”

“I think you...maybe....want to be...ah...closer? To me?” he stuttered. It was a hard thing to think about and he knew he was just about to hurt her.

“Yes, that is the case, Kurt. What do we need to say other than that?”

“Ah...I dont think I can be with you...in that way,” he said, hanging his head. He didnt want to have to say the words.

“Why? Dont you like me?” she demanded.

“Yes, I do – but we arent a match, you know?”

“Oh. I get it, white boy. You dont like the chocolate sister, huh? Im not good enough for your lily-white skin?” she said in the meanest way possible, but Kurt could see she didnt hate him - she was hurt.

He took her hands across the table.

“No, Mercedes, you are the sweetest girl I have ever known. You are talented and beautiful and kind. But I cant hurt you – we cant be together like that.”

“What? Would your father object? Is that it? You cant bring me home to daddy?”

“Mercedes, stop. You know that isnt true. I just cant be with you...” he stuttered, not finishing his thought.

“WHY?” she demanded, looking in his eyes and daring him to answer. He stared back, feeling the answer being drawn from him.

“Because...youre a girl,” he said loudly and jumped up from the table, realizing what hed said. He had so many things he could have said – about his commitment to his school work, the time he spent helping at his dads shop, but he said the truth to her and he said it so everyone in the parlor heard him. He ran from the store, and the eyes that followed him smirked. There was another student from McKinley who had left school early that day – and by lunch tomorrow, she would see that everyone in the school would know that Kurt Hummel was gay.