Highway 281
The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald
Wisconsin in November is usually cold and windy and snow was not uncommon. The November of 1975 was no different.
Justin paced around the small apartment, a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Brian always called him when they docked in Detroit. That was supposed to have been twelve hours ago. He kept rationalizing to himself as to why the usual phone call had never come.
The weather was bad. It had been freezing for several days and…what? Maybe Brian had been injured; maybe the large ship had some kind of breakdown. Maybe. Right now that’s all he had, just a lot of maybes. He didn’t want to think about the other possibility. After all, one of the nicknames given to the Edmund Fitzgerald was ‘Titanic of the Great Lakes’ because of its size. Everyone knew what happened to the Titanic.
He and Brian had been together for five years, one year before Brian had signed on as crew on the Fitz. The pay was good and if he could stick it out for a few more years, he’d have the money he needed to start his own business.
Justin turned the TV on to the evening news, but all he heard was the usual talk about the latest murder downtown and complaints about police brutality. Well, that was something. Besides, if something did happen, he was registered as Brian’s ‘cousin’, his only living relative and surely he would be notified before anyone else including the news crews.
Justin hated that he had to pretend to be Brian’s cousin and so did Brian, but that was the way it had to be for now. Brian often said he didn’t give a damn about what others might say, or think, of their relationship, but he kept quiet for Justin’s sake even though Justin had told Brian many times that he didn’t care either. He loved Brian, they loved each other, and that’s the way it was. But Brian, the great protector, feared for Justin’s safety when he was away.
Another hour passed and still the phone remained silent. Justin made himself sit on the sofa and try to sketch, but his sketches became too dark, too frightening for him to continue. Finally he lay back and closed his eyes remembering two nights previous.
He and Brian had been lying in bed, Brian’s arms around him and his head resting on Brian’s shoulder. Their lovemaking that evening had a strange quality, an air of desperation on Justin’s part and Justin clung to Brian for a long while afterwards.
“What’s the matter, Sunshine? You’re awfully quiet.”
“Bri, can you not go on this voyage? I have a really bad feeling.”
Brian moved slightly and tilted Justin’s head up with his hand so that he could look his lover in the eyes. He could tell that there was real fear in Justin’s face and his first thought was to make light of it but reconsidered before he said something he’d regret. Many of Justin’s ‘feelings’ had been too close to reality in the past.
“Look, I’ve made these trips for four years and nothing major has ever happened. What do you think is going to go wrong now, with this particular trip?
“I don’t know; it’s just a feeling.” He shrugged and wiggled out from Brian’s arms and headed to the bathroom.
Brian took a slow deep breath. He hated this and he knew Justin hated it when he was gone for the week with each voyage. But this was new. Each time he had to leave it got harder and harder to say good-bye. He had been thinking a lot about his plan and decided that this would be his last trip on the Great Lakes. Maybe they’d even move to somewhere warmer, maybe somewhere on the Gulf Coast like Florida. They did love the water.
That’s what he would do; put in his papers tomorrow and when he got home he’d surprise the man he loved.
All Justin knew was that Brian initiated another round of sex, this time slow and tender. And that’s what he was thinking about now.
His thoughts were on the feel of Brian’s arms holding him tight, telling him he loved him when there was a knock at the door.
Justin bolted upright. Brian! No, it couldn’t be Brian. He would still be on the ship. Suddenly a dark cloud hovered over the blond as he hurried the few steps to the door. He opened it slowly, afraid of what, or who, was on the other side.
Two men stood there. The older one took off his hat before he started speaking. “Mr. Taylor?” Justin nodded. “We have some news of your cousin, Brian Kinney. May we come in?”
“Yes, of course.” His heart was pounding and his breathing was becoming labored. “Tell me.”
“The Edmund Fitzgerald went down in a storm on Lake Superior. We’re sorry, but there were no survivors.”
Justin couldn’t speak and a slight nod of his head was the only response to the news.
“Is there anything we can do for you right now? There will be someone getting in touch with you in the next few days about the paperwork and such. Umm, the main office received Mr. Kinney’s paperwork, his resignation.”
Justin furrowed his brow, not understanding what they were saying.
“You know this was his last voyage, don’t you? You’ll still get his insurance benefits.”
Justin remained immobile, unable to comprehend what he was being told. Why were they talking about money? The money meant nothing to him.
The two men seemed nervous at his reaction to the news. The younger of the two men spoke up. “We’re sorry for your loss. If there are no more questions …”
“I’m fine. Thank you for coming by.” He escorted the men to the door and watched them leave.
He closed the door and just stood there, back against the door until he slowly slid to the floor. He had just closed the door on what he realized was his old life and it hit him.
Brian would never walk through this door again. Brian was somewhere in a freezing, watery grave. Brian was dead. Brian was never coming back. Brian would never hold him again. Brian would never kiss him again. Brian would never make love to him again.
Brian would never…
Tears slid down Justin’s cheeks and he didn’t try to stop them. His world would never be the same. The five years they had together weren’t nearly enough. They were supposed to spend a lifetime together.
Now it would be a lifetime without Brian.
6/1/14