Chapter 21: The Rite of Passage

Seated beside his father at the ancestral home that night had apparently put Alexander in the mood to revisit old decisions.

Perhaps it was inevitable.

He’d just told Alejandro, almost casually over dinner, that he was engaged to Giovanni Mercer and intended to marry him. There had been a time when a statement like that would’ve required considerably more preparation. Instead, it had somehow slipped into their conversation between everything else they’d spent the evening remembering.

And once Alexander started thinking about Giovanni, high school wasn’t particularly far behind.

Neither, unfortunately, was one of the stupidest things four boys had ever done.

Alexander had made his fair share of questionable decisions in life. Standing outside the Marriage Bureau under the scorching heat while waiting for a fiancé who never arrived would probably remain difficult to beat. Still, one particular decision from his teenage years deserved an honorable mention.

It happened during the summer after his second year of high school, when someone in Alexander’s class decided that all the boys were finally ready to prove their courage in the most horrifying way possible.

Circumcision.

According to several upper-year students, who naturally spoke with the absolute authority of people who had already survived the experience, every boy needed to get it done before graduation.

Otherwise, someone would inevitably find out in college.

No one ever properly explained how anyone was supposed to find out.

Apparently, that wasn’t important.

What mattered was that being discovered uncircumcised would result in a level of humiliation no teenage boy could survive.

At least, that was how they’d sold it.

Alexander had briefly considered asking Ben whether he’d been circumcised, then immediately decided there were some conversations a younger brother simply wasn’t prepared to have.

Unfortunately, Alexander was also class president.

So when Patrick Lim, easily the loudest supporter of the idea, proposed that they all go together during summer break, Alexander somehow found himself expected to demonstrate solidarity, courage, and leadership during what was technically their first completely non-academic class activity.

He agreed.

So did nearly every other boy in class.

On the appointed morning, Alexander arrived at the meeting place near the river and discovered exactly how much those promises had been worth.

Four boys showed up.

Patrick Lim, the idiot who had suggested the whole thing in the first place, was there.

So were Giovanni, Alexander, and Dominic.

That was it.

Alexander looked around.

"Where is everyone?"

Patrick checked the path behind them.

"They’re coming."

Nobody came.

Twenty minutes later, the four of them were forced to accept that the rest of their classmates had apparently discovered more important summer obligations.

Cowards.

Patrick insisted they continue.

A traditional circumciser was waiting beneath the shade of a large tree near the river, with the tools of his trade laid out beside him.

Alexander stopped walking.

That was a razor.

Actually, there were several.

Worse, the man was sharpening one against a stone.

Alexander looked at Patrick, who suddenly appeared considerably less enthusiastic than he’d sounded at school.

"This is the place?"

"Yes."

"You’re sure?"

"My cousin came here."

"And your cousin survived?"

Patrick glared at him.

The man looked up as the four boys approached and seemed almost as surprised to see them as they were to see him.

His gaze traveled over their clothes before returning to their faces.

"You boys came here by yourselves?"

"Yes," Patrick answered.

"Your parents know?"

Four boys who had absolutely not informed their parents looked at him.

"Yes."

The lie came with remarkable unity.

The older man remained suspicious. He asked again whether they understood why they were there and made it clear that nobody was required to stay. Anyone who had changed his mind could simply turn around and go home.

Nobody moved.

Mostly because moving first would’ve meant admitting defeat in front of the other three.

"Fine."

He told them what to do.

That was when Alexander learned that generations of boys had apparently been doing this with considerably less ceremony than he’d expected.

The river was part of the traditional preparation, and the man gave them instructions about what they were supposed to do before and afterward. He was particular about his tools, too, keeping the blades he intended to use separate and cleaning them before beginning.

Then there were the guava leaves.

Those, apparently, were supposed to be chewed.

Alexander stared at the leaves in his hand.

"You’re joking."

The man wasn’t.

Giovanni examined his own.

"We’re eating these?"

"Chew. Don’t swallow."

Dominic looked offended by the entire concept.

"Why?"

"For later."

That answer somehow made things worse.

By then, all four boys were beginning to understand that perhaps a clinic would’ve been the more sensible expression of courage.

Unfortunately, suggesting one now would mean backing out.

Worse, there were witnesses.

They drew lots to determine the order.

Patrick went first, followed by Giovanni and Alexander, which left Dominic with the questionable privilege of going last.

Patrick stared at the stick in his hand.

"This is rigged."

"You suggested this," Giovanni reminded him.

"I suggested we come together. I didn’t volunteer to go first."

Alexander bit into one of the apples they’d picked nearby.

"Leadership."

"Shut up."

Patrick went first.

The other three waited at what they considered a respectful distance, eating apples and pretending they couldn’t hear anything.

Then Patrick screamed.

Alexander stopped chewing.

Beside him, Dominic’s face lost color while Giovanni slowly lowered his apple.

Perhaps a respectful distance wasn’t far enough.

Patrick appeared moments later, moving with the careful urgency of someone who had very recently learned several important things about pain.

He headed straight for the shallow part of the river.

The cool current apparently helped enough that he remained there.

Alexander stared at him.

"Still alive?"

Patrick raised one hand.

Alexander decided to interpret that positively.

Giovanni was next.

He returned considerably quieter than he’d left.

Alexander would’ve liked to ask how bad it was, except Giovanni’s expression suggested that friendship had limits.

Then it was Alexander’s turn.

By that point, class solidarity had become the stupidest concept he’d encountered in his fourteen years of life.

He survived.

His dignity suffered considerably more.

Dominic went last, which meant the other three were already standing carefully in the shallows by the time he emerged.

Patrick grinned.

"Welcome."

Dominic looked ready to murder him.

Nobody remained in the water for long. Whatever temporary relief the cool current provided wasn’t worth lingering, especially since the man had already given them instructions for caring for themselves afterward.

Then came a problem none of them had properly considered.

Their shorts.

Putting them back on proved very difficult.

Eventually, four boys who had arrived that morning feeling remarkably brave began the slow journey home with towels wrapped around their waists.

They made terrible time.

Alexander would’ve blamed the heat, except all four of them knew perfectly well that wasn’t the problem.

Nobody wanted to discuss it.

Alexander made it all the way back to the Vance ancestral home before Alejandro saw him.

His father stared.

Alexander stopped.

Alejandro’s gaze dropped to the towel around his son’s waist before taking in the peculiar way he was standing.

"What happened?"

Alexander considered lying.

Even his creativity had limits.

"I got circumcised."

Silence.

Alejandro asked.

"You what?"

Apparently, similar conversations were occurring in three other households.

The revelation that all four boys had gone to the man by the river for a traditional circumcision without telling their families went over about as well as anyone could’ve expected.

Alexander was taken to a doctor almost immediately, and Giovanni, Dominic, and Patrick received much the same treatment once their respective families recovered from the initial shock.

The wounds were examined and properly cleaned, and their families received aftercare instructions and warnings about signs that would require further medical attention.

Fortunately, none of them developed an infection or any other serious complication.

That didn’t make the next several days pleasant.

Alexander spent most of them indoors, moving carefully and reconsidering nearly every decision that had brought him to that river.

News still traveled remarkably fast during summer break.

By the time classes resumed, practically everyone knew.

Apparently, the same boys who had enthusiastically agreed to go and then mysteriously failed to appear had spent the remainder of the summer transforming the four who actually showed up into minor legends.

The questions started almost immediately.

Everyone wanted to know how painful it had been and whether the river actually helped. Someone wanted to know what the guava leaves tasted like, while considerably more people seemed interested in whether Patrick had really screamed.

Patrick insisted he hadn’t.

Unfortunately for him, three witnesses existed.

"You screamed," Alexander said.

"I shouted."

"You screamed," Dominic corrected.

Patrick looked at Giovanni.

Giovanni didn’t even bother looking up.

"You screamed."

That settled it.

Alexander was considerably more willing to admit how much it had hurt now that enough time had passed between himself and the experience.

Dominic refused to discuss the procedure beyond confirming that Patrick had, in fact, screamed.

Giovanni endured the questions longer than Alexander expected before someone finally asked whether he’d recommend doing it the same way.

"No."

That answer came remarkably fast.

One of their classmates laughed. "Then where?"

Giovanni looked at him.

"A clinic."

Alexander immediately nodded.

"Definitely a clinic."

Patrick stared at both of them.

"Now you say that?"

"Now we have experience," Alexander pointed out.

"That doesn’t make it better."

"No. But it makes us qualified."

For some reason, that became the version of the story everyone remembered.

Years later, sitting beside his father in the same ancestral home where he’d once arrived wrapped in a towel and walking like every step required careful negotiation, Alexander could still remember Alejandro’s face when he’d confessed what they’d done.

He glanced at his father now.

Alejandro had considerably more gray hair these days, but otherwise, the setting hadn’t changed nearly as much as it should have.

Alexander almost smiled into his coffee.

Funny.

He’d spent that morning beside Giovanni and Dominic because none of them had wanted to be the first one to back out.

Now Dominic was the man Alexander had once intended to marry, and Giovanni was the man he’d just told his father he actually would.

Life apparently had a strange sense of humor.

At least this time, Alexander was fairly certain he knew what he was doing.