Power Players

by Scudder James Jr

  “Don’t listen to people who say that youth are the future,” said an earnest-looking student in khakis, a blue blazer, and striped tie. “It’s true. We are the future. But what’s more important is that we’re the present.”

  A fashionable girl continued. “We will never forget the lessons we learned this year about being responsible members of the community. We thank the Burkewest Academy for introducing us to some of the best people doing the best work in Washington, DC.”

  A guy with an athlete’s stride made it to the mic. The sleeves of his blue blazer were pushed up his forearms and the top button of his shirt undone. “Eyes are on us. We are the nation’s capital with the problems of all US cities. People watch us. People complain about us. They also emulate. We are the example. Tonight we are an example of the best.”

  Another girl moved to the microphone. “I’m really sorry, Kristy, but we’re breaking from your script right now.” She gave Kristy a sheepish grin and mouthed sorry. “We call Derek Hinsdale to stand with us.”

  Derek shrugged to the headmaster seated on stage. Kristy hustled by, whispering, but he smiled, shook his head, and patted her shoulder.

  “It was Mr. Hinsdale’s idea to start the Youth Philanthropist Fund,” the girl continued. “Derek Hinsdale is a visionary. Look at this audience of two hundred people. Multiply that number not once, not twice, not ten times, but more than we can imagine. Those are the lives that will be impacted for the better because of Derek’s vision.”

  The audience applauded. Some started standing, but an ovation didn’t catch on.

  Another guy took the mic. “Yeah, we’re here for a great reason, but let’s be serious, we’re high school students. I’m going to go selfish seventeen-year-old on you right now and tell you that my life will be better because of Mr. Hinsdale.” He cut a cheesy grin. “My life already is better. I’ve met some of the best people doing the best work. I know what can be done, and I know what must be done. My experience on the Youth Philanthropist Fund will inform the rest of my life.”

  “Don’t applaud yet,” said a girl with dynamite eyes and an athlete’s swagger. She high-fived the other kids. “Mr. Hinsdale, we once asked you about your dream. We expected a profound answer about attempting to save one corner of the world at a time. Instead you said you’d like to see orcas in the wild. We were confused at first. But then we realized that you work so hard that you have never taken the time for a vacation to go whale watching on the West Coast.”

  Two students came forward with a large stuffed orca. “Until you have time, here’s one from us. We are honored to know you, Mr. Derek T. Hinsdale III.”

  The ballroom erupted in applause that led to a standing ovation.

  Derek approached center stage and motioned to stop the commotion, which didn’t work until he shouted. “Stop!” The crowd sat. “I swear this was not scripted. I’m not going to panic Kristy, tonight’s tireless organizer. I’ll be quick and won’t do my later speech. I promise the ceremony will finish on time.”

  “Derek, the night is yours,” yelled Kristy at the edge of the crowd. The headmaster gave an awkward thumbs-up.

  “The night isn’t mine. I want to thank each one of these students for their hard work. Here’s what’s happening. I’ll say your name, and you’ll announce where you live.” Derek turned back to the audience. “You in the audience, I want you to remember these names. If you ever receive a phone call, note, email, or résumé from any of these dynamic people, I want you to respond.”

  The students nervously looked around.

  “Listen to these names,” said Derek. “Gwendolyn Dougherty,” and that first girl on stage nervously responded, “McLean, Virginia.” He went down the line, student by student, even though they weren’t lined up alphabetically. Derek wasn’t reading notes. He actually knew the students. He named each one, finishing with “Alex Harris,” who responded, “Columbia Heights.”

  Huh? When had anyone from Columbia Heights gone to a place like Burkewest Academy? Hell, what percentage of the neighborhood even finished high school? Of course, I was thinking about the Columbia Heights of twenty years ago. Alex even looked like my era. He was black. But now was the time of real estate developers and luxury condos taking the places where families had once lived. Could the Burkewest Academy kind of fancy really be seeping into Columbia Heights?

  “We haven’t done the awards yet,” continued Derek. “That’s why we’re here. It’s back to these inspiring students.”

  The kids awarded the year’s prizes. Each student gave a one-sentence description of the nonprofit and presented a check. All awards had been given out, except for ours for the DC Homeless Coalition. Alex Harris was the last student for a turn at the mike.

  “This year’s biggest gift is important to me.” Alex wore a blue blazer and tie that came close to matching the others. “I am particularly proud of the DC Homeless Coalition. Their main office is in my neighborhood. The executive director even grew up there. He knew tough times. He was homeless at age fifteen, but he didn’t give up. He and the DC Homeless Coalition inspire me every day.” Alex paused and raised his voice. “The Homeless Coalition of Washington, DC, thank you for the work you do.”

  That was my cue to accept the envelope from Alex and shake his and Derek’s hands. I’d accepted gifts before on behalf of the Coalition. I’d been to grant announcement ceremonies. But I was surprised by the tightness in the back of my throat. I trusted that my eyes weren’t watery. Derek, Alex, and I stood there as the crowd stood and applauded. Derek grabbed Alex’s and my hands, and we raised them up. For real?

  Afterward, I didn’t get a chance to talk to Alex because colleagues and people I didn’t know kept congratulating me, and the kids were pretty quickly whisked out, back to study, or maybe there weren’t supposed to roam free in a room with available cocktails. It wasn’t until the music stopped for good and the crowd had thinned to less than half that I saw Derek. He saw me too. Honestly, I didn’t expect him to smile. He didn’t. Of course not. All he did was mouth thank you from his always-tight mouth. I pointed at him, hoping he would stay put as I made my way through the crowd, which was exactly what he did. He could have stepped away, enveloped by everyone who wanted a piece of him.

  He was shaking the hands of a middle-aged couple and nodding graciously, but I thought he cracked me a frosty smile as I approached. The couple left, and he turned to me. “Thank you for being a good sport.”

  “About what?”

  “The dinner before, tonight, the kids. We’ve taken a lot of your time.”

  Did he always keep his mouth so tight? Was he doing that pseudo–straight guy thing of clamping down on all emotion in his voice?

  “No. Thank you. Not just for the money to the coalition. Thank you for how you help these students be visionary. Imagine what they’re going to do in the future.”

  “That’s kind. Thank you.”

  “Derek, I’m almost speechless,” I said, my palm out. “Except that I am speaking.”

  He shook my hand. Was he having difficulty keeping his stern look? Yup. The corner of his mouth moved as a dimple formed on his right cheek.

  I asked Derek if the awards night was always so remarkable. “The students are remarkable. The Burkewest Academy is remarkable. You are remarkable for masterminding the Young Philanthropists Fund. Seriously, Derek, the world needs more people like you. These students will be doing a hell of a lot more than changing DC.” I toned it down to be more professional. “On behalf of the DC Homeless Coalition, I thank you. You are encouraging us to dream. I also thank you for tonight and a window into the best of what life can be.”

  Derek cocked his head. Then he full-on smiled. It was the first of his smiles I’d seen up close. As Eddie had said before, Derek tended not to reveal much. “Good job.” He clamped a strong hand on my shoulder and stayed there as people milled around us. With gay friends I would have joked that his was exactly the right kind of strong hand. But there was no gay guy to joke w
ith. Except for Derek himself. And I knew we’d never have that kind of opportunity.

  “Thank you.”

  Good job? A part of me felt infantilized. Was I a kid again, someone who’d unexpectedly succeeded at something simple no one thought he could do? Did Derek think I was the kind of guy who didn’t usually do a good job? A simple nonprofit guy? I knew better, but the negative part of me winced.

  “I heard you were the real deal,” Derek said.

  “The real deal?” Didn’t he mean the faker who didn’t belong?

  “Good-looking, smart, committed.”

  “Sounds like Cassandra and Kristy have been talking to you too.”

  “You think?” Derek didn’t exactly smile again. “Eddie too. For a straight guy, he might be overly concerned about your love life.”

  “That’s Eddie. I think he feels guilty for being so happy with Cassandra. He needs me to be with someone. I wonder if that’s why he hasn’t proposed to her yet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He doesn’t want to leave me alone.”

  “You don’t live with him? Do you?”

  “Haven’t for two years. I practically had to kick him out to get him to move in with Cassandra. He’ll deny it, but he cried.”

  “I think you guys both did.” Derek gave me one of his full-on smiles.

  “I’m not embarrassed.”

  “You shouldn’t be. It’s sweet. It’s cute.”

  “I told you, he saved my life. Homeless fifteen-year-olds don’t usually have the best outcomes. Eddie has been my brother for a long time.”

  “Your brother, his lady Cassandra, and Kristy all seem to think you and I are a good match.” Derek removed his hand from my shoulder.

  “And you?”

  “We’ve just met.”

  Derek’s blundering friend blundered over. How’d he get to be such a sweaty mess? There’d been no dancing. “Get over here, Derek. We’ve got to go.”

  “Please excuse my friend Michael. He’s an impatient man with an agenda.”

  “Don’t excuse me for anything. I came to your event. Everyone is so fucking nice they’re giving me a headache. Too much sugar. I’m borderline diabetic now. Let’s get out of here. We need a healthy dose of gay.”

  “Give me another half hour,” Derek said and scratched his cheek.

  “No, you asshole. You promised. It’s my night of doing good, so I came here, and I wrote a check. I wrote a check for a thousand goddamn dollars. Which was not what I’d planned on doing, but you put on a good show, and even I felt something.” He wiped the hair off his sweaty forehead. “Now let’s get our gay on.”

  “You make us sound like drag queens.”

  “Don’t disrespect drag queens,” said Michael.

  “I don’t.”

  “We’re out of here.” He smacked Derek’s chest.

  “Let me finish talking to my new friend first.”

  “You can do better.”

  Derek turned back to me. “My friend has drunk too much. I think I need to get him out of here.”

  “Forget him!” Michael pulled Derek to a group of guys by a rapidly dismantling bar, leaving me alone in the dwindling crowd. Yup. Michael had to have a mad crush on Derek. Why else would he have been so obnoxious? Yup. Financial guys were assholes. Well, at least Michael was.

  “Wait, wait, wait!” Kristy ran to me while tying a small plastic bag. “Dumplings! They’re throwing out dumplings. They’ll be good tomorrow.”

  “Don’t waste dumplings!” Cassandra caught up with Kristy and opened the bag. Eddie followed. “Oh, Kristy, congratulations,” she continued. “What a night. Everything was perfect. Even when the kids stole the show.”

  “Especially when the kids stole the show.” I helped myself to a dumpling. “Seriously, tonight was all good karma. Do you love your job or what?”

  “I do.”

  “You were awesome.” Cassandra took Kristy in a hug. “We have to get you a drink somewhere.”

  “Sure,” said Eddie. “But we’ve got business. Bro, are you going to see him again?”

  “Derek?”

  “Of course, Derek.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Why didn’t you guys make plans?” Cassandra moved her hand up Eddie’s back.

  “Jeffrey,” boomed a deep voice.

  I turned around and there he was, Derek, almost power walking back to us.

  “Here’s my card.” Derek slapped it into my hand. He paused, as if waiting for something. “I’d like to visit your homeless coalition sometime.”

  “It’s not my coalition. It’s the city’s.”

  “I know. I know. I’m sorry.”

  We stared at Derek. He hadn’t suddenly become drunk. His collar was loosened and his necktie gone. Was he stalling to be there with us?

  “You could visit me. I could show you Burkewest Academy. The kids would like to see you again. Especially Alex. He’s your number one fan. You’ve got to meet him.”

  “You already gave me your card. At the dinner a few weeks ago when we met.”

  “Really?”

  “You did.”

  “Of course. Yes, I remember.”

  “Derek!” Michael jostled toward us with two beer bottles.

  I pocketed the card, and Derek hustled Michael to the door.

  “I told you.” Eddie smacked my chest. “You better call him.”

  “Why?”

  “Bro, he came back for you.”

  “Did you see that?” Cassandra grabbed Kristy’s hand. “He was flustered. Have you ever seen Derek flustered?”

  “He’s smitten.” Kristy grabbed a dumpling from the bag. “I’ve known Derek forever.” Kristy popped a dumpling into Eddie’s mouth. “That wasn’t smooth Derek T. Hinsdale III.”

  WE SHOWED up the next morning at Kristy’s place for a victory brunch. Showed up sounds spontaneous. It was arranged. Everything for Kristy was arranged. She told us what kind of scones to buy from where and coached us on finding the perfect mangos.

  No matter how many questions I asked Kristy about the Burkewest kids, or Cassandra about divinity school, or Eddie about the law firm, they kept bringing conversation back to Derek.

  “Yes, when he relaxes, he does have the best smile.” I waved off a mimosa and took a straight-up orange juice from Kristy.

  “And when he turns it on for you. You melt.” Cassandra also took an orange juice. “Even you’ve melted, Jeffrey.”

  “I’ve not melted. All I’ve agreed to is to call him.”

  “When?” Eddie smeared his bagel with cream cheese.

  “As soon as I get home.”

  “No. Too soon.”

  “You keep saying you want me to call.”

  “I did. I do. But you should be smart about it.”

  Kristy turned to Cassandra and Eddie. “Has he ever believed in romance?” She smacked my chest. “I thought you were happy with Oscar.”

  Eddie shrank back before the pile of bagels. “Don’t mention Oscar. Not ever. He doesn’t exist in our happy plane of reality. He’s the one who launched Jeffrey’s fuck-love negativity.”

  Cassandra grabbed my leg. “Sweetie, when are you going to stop blaming yourself?”

  “Anyone else would have seen it coming.”

  “No,” Cassandra said. “You weren’t seeing clearly. Who would? Oscar was one of the best-looking guys I’ve ever seen. Looks have power. They can blind you.”

  “I’m not in high school, college, or grad school. I’m not even in my twenties. I should have known better. I should have seen he was a mess. I chose Oscar. That was my mistake. Therefore, I’ve retired from relationships.”

  “But not sex.” Eddie raised his eyes to me.

  “Hookups are easy.”

  “But you can’t do that forever.” Kristy said.

  “Many do.”

  “Stop it,” said Eddie. “You can do better. You’ve built a beautiful life. Hell, you said good riddance to your father and stopped
drinking at fifteen.”

  “You drank as a kid?” asked Kristy.

  “It would have been bad, but I stopped thanks to Eddie. Having people call me on my shit was amazing. No one had done that before.”

  “The point is, Jeffrey, you put up with my family and all of our rules. You finished high school, college, and grad school. You took a small homeless shelter and made it the dynamic DC Homeless Coalition.”

  “I fucked up with Oscar.”

  “One mistake, bro. I’m sorry you’re human.”

  “Jeffrey, you’re a survivor. Be good to yourself.” Seriously, Cassandra was going to be a great minister. Her look didn’t make me feel pitied but seen. “Do I need to remind you again how hot he was?” she continued. “We all would have forgotten ourselves with Oscar.”

  “Um…,” started Eddie.

  “Honey, you know it’s true. With a few beers, even you would have bedded down with him. The point is, Jeffrey, you made a mistake. Now it’s over, and you’re connecting with Derek. Excellent. It’s strangely clear to all of us that you guys could start something beautiful together. It’s the power of this city. Big stuff happens here. Don’t deny it.”

  “I told you, I’m calling him.”

  “Really?” Eddie suddenly looked concerned. “You think I would have slept with Oscar? You think I’d go gay?”

  “Honey, I’m exaggerating in order to make a point.”

  “I don’t like the point.”

  “You don’t have to. We’re helping Jeffrey here. He needs the power of his friends and the city to help him see clearly. Anything and everything happens in DC…. Even you and Derek can happen. Especially you and Derek.”

  Chapter Four

  “HI, DEREK, this is Jeffrey from the DC Homeless Coalition.” I started in my professional office voice. Why? It was Sunday afternoon and my feet were on my coffee table.

  “I know who you are, Jeffrey. I’m glad you called.”

  Huh? Backtrack. Be friendly. This was about friendship. Casual. “Great event. You should be pleased. Thank you again for the donation to the Coalition.”