the nomadic life

Dewey

Chapter 24

Dewey loved Richard until his heart stopped beating.

I’ve heard people say, “I will love you till the day I die,” but I never thought it could be true, or reasonable. After a breakup, the healthiest thing to do is move on, right? Not for Dewey. He loved Richard with a devotion that never wavered, even after Richard moved on, even when it became clear that love would never again be reciprocated. In Dewey’s eyes, Richard would always remain the handsome young man he fell in love with.

Dewey had the means to sustain his devotion. As the Dean of Students at Belhaven College and living rent-free in his mother’s house, he had disposable income. Richard, on the other hand, had bills. He had a house to maintain, a mother to support, and he survived on a meager part-time professor’s salary supplemented by what little he earned as a caretaker for Mr. Smith. His mother’s social security and his late father’s railroad pension helped, but it was never enough.

Richard and I shared something else: we were both bipolar. Spending sprees were our escape. The rush of a purchase, the anticipation of a package arriving and the momentary high of holding and treasuring the item. That is how we coped with the crushing lows that followed. It was a cruel and never-ending cycle. The bills came, the realization set in, and there was no money to pay for them. So he would apply for another credit card, one more safety net, one more lifeline in a losing game.

Unlike me, whose credit was so abysmal that I never had to worry about maxed-out cards, Richard ran up bills in the thousands with no way to pay them. That is when Dewey would step in. Time and again, he rescued Richard, paying off tens of thousands in credit card debt. He would cut up all but two of Richard’s cards, one for gas, one for emergencies. And then they’d move on, as if it never happened. Richard would be financially responsible for a while, but the cycle would always repeat, and Dewey, like a knight in shining armor would be there, checkbook in hand. If love is sacrifice, then Dewey loved Richard more than anything in the world.

Richard used people. If you weren’t an asset to him or could not provide some form of financial support, a free meal, or lavish birthday and Christmas gifts, you were of no use to him. I watched in awe as he manipulated those around him, especially Dewey and his mother. As for me, I was useful. I could fix cars, mow lawns, and handle maintenance around the house. My labor was my rent and way of keeping Richard happy enough to allow me to remain a part of his life.

Richard’s mother didn’t like me, but she tolerated my presence because I contributed to the household.

The physical relationship between Richard and I didn’t last long. I caught him cheating once, then twice, and by the third time, I was done. But emotionally, I was already in too deep. I had no real family, and somehow, Richard, Dewey, Mrs. Buckley, and even Richard’s mother became the family I lost years prior. I looked up to Dewey, his intelligence, generosity and his unwavering loyalty to those he loved. And Richard...to this day I can never explain why he remained part of my life for over thirty-five years. Like it or not, in my heart he was family, and I never turn my back on those I love.

I left Jackson more than once. Richard and I did not always get along. After each big argument he and I would have, I would pack up, disappear for months, once, even for a year, but I always came back. And every time I did, Dewey helped me get back on my feet. He covered deposits for apartments, even bought me a mattress and box spring. I did what I could to repay him, taking on yard work and home maintenance, refusing to feel like a beggar looking for a handout. In my past I had accepted charity, and I refused to allow that to happen again. The “help” offered from the people of Mathiston came with a huge price, the cost of which being ostracization, humiliation, and ridicule. Because of that, to this day, I struggle to accept financial help. Once you’ve been made to feel insignificant for needing assistance, you never want to endure that again.

Over the years, one thing became clear: Dewey’s love for Richard never faded. Even after their relationship ended, and when Richard made it clear there would never be a reconciliation, Dewey remained devoted.

I would spend years looking for that kind of love, only to learn later in life how rare it truly is.

After years of wondering why Dewey remained so faithful to him and never sought out anyone else, Richard finally explained the real reason behind Dewey's steadfast commitment: guilt.

For more than twenty years, Dewey had devoted himself to Richard and their relationship. The focus of his life was quiet sacrifice, ensuring Richard had work, comfort, and stability. Their bond was an unwavering force, the kind everyone believed could never shatter. But then came a single, unforgivable mistake. Dewey gave into temptation. It was an error in judgment that would tear through everything they’d built together. In a moment of weakness, the unspoken connection everyone believed to be unbreakable was shattered beyond repair. The oft admired, unspoken and envied relationship between “the gay professors” was over.

Dewey was consumed by the crushing weight of his betrayal, its sting gnawing at his soul with every passing day. It was a heartache each endured but in different ways. Though it never grew, Richard insisted on making certain that the emotional wound remained open and festering for as long as they both would live.

On a cloudy and abysmal day, Richard shared with me the reason he and Dewey broke up and why he never could forgive the one man who loved him unconditionally.

The Story

It was the spring semester at Belhaven College and several new professors were hired. One new faculty member was a gay man who found Richard attractive. The new hire chased him relentlessly. When Richard rebuffed his advances, he set his sights on Dewey, believing Richard would then be his for the taking. So, he pursued the one person who stood in his way, and eventually, Dewey gave in. That single moment of weakness shattered them. Richard, the man who had spent his youth loyal to his love, felt he had been robbed of his best years, feeling Dewey had taken from him not only his youthful appearance but his trusting heart.

Richard moved out immediately, finding an apartment nearby. Months later, when his father died unexpectedly, he relocated his mother from Chicago to Jackson, purchasing a house just five doors down from Dewey’s. I don’t know if Dewey helped him buy it, but I suspect he did, in a continued effort to atone for a mistake that Richard would never allow him to forget.

Richard was aging, and he resented it. The young man who once turned heads now saw an older man in the mirror. I wish he could have seen himself through mine and Dewey’s eyes. He was still handsome, still a striking man, but he would never see himself as he once did, a virile young stud who at one time could have had anyone he wanted.

The Aftermath

When Dewey died in February 2023, he was still hoping for forgiveness that never came. Richard held onto his grudge, blaming Dewey not just for cheating, but for trapping him in Jackson, Mississippi, a place he despised, yet never left. He could have moved back to Chicago. He could have started fresh in New Orleans, or anywhere that embraced the life he wanted to live. But he stayed, shackled by the very resentment that kept him from forgiving Dewey.

I used to wonder why he never left Mississippi. But now, I understand. Starting over is terrifying. The uncertainty and fear of such a change can be paralyzing. It’s easier to stay where life is predictable, even if it’s miserable, than to take a leap into the unknown.

In the end, Richard and Dewey were bound together, not by love, but by what was left of it. By resentment, by regret, by the weight of unspoken words and forgiveness never granted.

Dewey died loving Richard. And Richard died never knowing how to let him go.