Get off the Ledge and Drop the Knife

*Gerard’s POV*

“C’mon, let’s go,” I told Frank after we finished our peanuts. I reached a hand out to him and pulled him up. He brushed his butt off of any remaining grass.

“Where are we going?” he asked, grabbing my hand as we began to make our way out of the big park.

“Somewhere,” I said vaguely. We walked slowly through the park again. People were still gathered around John Lennon’s tribute place, singing and dancing. I smiled; it was one of my favorite places in New York. After a few minutes of walking against foot traffic in the park, we emerged from it and walked to the nearest train station. There, I paid for my fare and Frank’s, and we waited patiently for a train uptown.

There were plenty of characters to see on a New York City subway platform. There was the beggar, the musician, the bully, the business woman, the teenager, the old lady with a cane. Then there was us. The gay couple dressed in all black. We held hands and stood between the old lady and the teenage; both of whom shot us weird looks. We ignored them and continued holding hands. I lightly kissed Frank for my entertainment.

The train finally rolled up and we all pushed on, finding a place to stand where you could actually hold on to a pole and hold on for dear life as the train moved. It was ridiculous how it could send you flying. As we arrived at our stop, the train came to a screeching halt, causing Frank to lose it balance and fall over a bit. I quickly caught him by his arm before he actually fell on someone. I chuckled; it was evident he hardly rode the train. Which made me wonder if he ever got out at all. We quickly exited the train and walked through the turnstiles, before climbing up the stairs and emerging onto the street again. Since Frankie didn’t know where we were going, I led the way. We walked a few blocks until we reached a parking garage. I walked up to the attendant and informed him that I was there to pick up the car I booked to rent. He pointed to a car a few feet away before handing me the keys and returning to his office where he was watching television lazily. I chuckled and Frank and I got into the small car, which was nothing special or fancy. Just a simple Volkswagen.

Once we were inside, Frank asked a question, “You rented a car?”

“Clearly,” I said with a smirk. He rolled his eyes. “Well, I don’t have one so I had to rent one.”

“Well, where are we going that you needed to rent a car for?” he asked.

“Somewhere,” I told him again. He sighed and sat back in his seat. I slowly pulled out of the garage and made my way through the busy city streets to the highway, which was packed with more cars. Frank turned the radio on and found the local rock station, since we didn’t have any CD’s with us. They were playing Led Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song” and I immediately started singing. It was my favorite song by them. Frank tapped his fingers on his thigh along to my singing and the song. And that’s how it went for most of the car right. The radio station played a decent rock song while I sang and Frank tapped.

That is, until we lost the signal to the station as we entered a different part of the state, and had to turn the radio off due to the overwhelming static. Frank sighed in defeat and sat back again, angling his body toward me, watching me. I calmly continued driving, aware that Frank was watching my every move. He soon fell asleep though, and it was all I could do to not reach out and stroke his face.

About 45 minutes later, we arrived at our destination and I shook Frank awake. He groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up, asking the normal question of: “Where are we?”

“Red Hook, New York. Upstate,” I finally gave him an answer he wanted. “It’s about 5 and I thought you’d like some dinner.”

He nodded, “I would.” I got out of the car, walked to the other side, and opened the door for him. He smiled sheepishly and got out, before grabbing my hand and lacing his fingers through mine. I led him the few hundred feet to the restaurant that was stationed in a big white house with plenty of tables outside on the sidewalk. We walked inside the building and someone sat us right back outside, not far from our car.

“It’s a bit fancy,” I explained to Frank once we sat down. “But, they have simple things to eat, including veggie burgers. And all of their food comes from local farms, which I think is awesome.”

He nodded, “It is. No one supports local farms anymore.” He had lines on his face from where his hands were supporting it and it was the cutest thing in the world.
A waiter soon came and took our order and Frank proudly ordered a veggie burger while I shamefully ordered a hamburger. Frank teasingly gave me a dirty look once the waiter walked away.

“So, um, Gerard. Can we even afford this?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in question.

“Relax, Frankie. I’ve set money aside for this,” I assured him. Sure, the place sold burgers, but they were fancy burgers with fancy sauces and fancy cheeses and fancy buns.

“Alrighty then,” he said in an unsure tone. “If you say so.” He paused. “This is a cute little town.”

I looked around and observed the town I’d been to hundreds of times. It had a whole bunch of small boutiques and stores that sold items for high prices, but compelled you to buy them because they were kind of rare. Some locations had For Sale signs because people would rather buy things at department stores than family owned businesses. I shook my head, it really was a shame.

“It is a cute little town. It hasn’t got much though. You can’t find very many men’s clothes. But it’s charming nonetheless,” I agreed.

“How do you know about it?” Frank asked.

“Mom and Dad used to take Mikey and me here every year. It was our escape from Jersey,” I explained.

“I wish my mom could have afforded that,” he said, showing a sign of sadness that left as quickly as it came. “But that would have also meant less time to practice guitar with my bands, so I’m glad we stayed home.”

I smiled, “That’s the spirit. It was pretty boring though, there isn’t much to do.”

“At least it’s quiet and the air is less polluted,” Frank reminded me just as our waiter arrived with our food. He placed our respectable plates in front of us and gave us a warm smile before walking away. People Upstate tended to be accepting.
Frank neatly bit into his veggie burger while I stuffed mine into my face and ate incredibly messily. Frank giggled at the mess I was making from the other side of the table. I smiled and wiped my lips with the back of my hand.

“How’s that burger?” I asked him. He was almost done with it.

He smiled sheepishly, “It’s amazing. One of the best veggie burgers I’ve ever had. It’s really fresh.”

I grinned, “I know. I love this place.” We continued eating in silence and I soon asked for the check. When it arrived, Frank tried to peek at it and offer money to pay, but I shot him down. I explained to him that everything was my treat and he wasn’t allowed to pay. He frowned like a little kid. We made our way back to the car where I drove us a half hour away from the town to where we were actually staying. Frank was silent most of the time and I wasn’t sure what to think of it.

We pulled up to a two story white house with a porch expanding around half of it. We got out of the car and we could immediately hear the miniscule waterfall off to the left. There was a small creek behind the house that fueled the waterfall and there was also a huge yard to the right of the house. Hanging between two trees was a hammock, which Frank immediately darted for. I followed him and we lay on the hammock together, holding each other and pushing it lightly with our feet.

“Is this your house?” he asked suddenly.

“Well, my parents own it, but I guess it’s mine too. This is where we would stay when we came up here,” I answered.

“It’s beautiful. It’s so relaxing. There’s green everywhere and I can’t believe you actually have a creek on your property. Everything’s just so beautiful,” he rambled.

“I know, Frankie. And we have the whole place to ourselves for as long as we want. We can stay for however long,” I told him.

“Forever?” he asked, turning his head to look into my eyes.

“Maybe.”