Last Petal on the Rose and Other Stories

by Stephanie Rabig

  Had to be the adrenaline.

  Forcing xyrself to focus, Makana said, "I need to know."

  "It said, 'I'm going to carve out your heart. Why were you even born?'."

  "Because millions of years of evolution conspired to make me," Makana quipped. Xe could tell from the look on his face that he hadn't been expecting a joke—in truth, neither had xe until it had come out of xyr mouth—but it was either try to laugh about all this or hide under xyr bed for a year.

  Xe sat down at the kitchen table, trying to take xyrself back into the mindset xe'd been in this morning. Getting some breakfast, getting dressed, going over today's schedule and making sure xe hadn't missed packing any...

  Getting dressed.

  Which was when xe realized xe was still wearing xyr nightclothes: a ratty pair of neon-green sweatpants and a Tweety Bird tank top. Resisting the urge to groan, Makana quickly got back up. "Back in a minute."

  Makana opened xyr closet, grabbing the first things that appealed to xyr today: a pair of black slacks and a deep purple button-up shirt. Then xe looked through xyr selection of wigs, familiar comfort flooding through xyr as xe traced xyr hands through the hair. These were as much a part of xyr as xyr clothes, each one saying something slightly different about who xe was that day.

  Some days xe felt almost entirely traditionally masculine and wore a short wig, pants, and a man's shirt, with sneakers and no jewelry. Other days xe felt so traditionally feminine that it was all xe could do not to clothe xyrself fully in poufy Stella de Libero style dresses.

  Most days were a mixture of both. A men's shirt and tie with a plaid skirt. Spiked stiletto heels and long hair with a men's suit.

  Since today was an interview day, xe was perversely glad that xe wasn't feeling a mixture. The questions always got felt more awkward when xe was having one of those days.

  Xe hated dealing with the press.

  That wasn't fair, Makana chided xyrself as xe got dressed and then put on a short, white wig with the ease of long practice. Xe'd run into several interviewers who were genuinely curious; who did ask uncomfortable questions, but out of ignorance, simply wanting more information, not out of cruelty.

  But the ones who were looking for a shocked, hurt reaction...

  Well, xe'd been close to having someone break into xyr house last night. What were one or two questions compared to that?

  Xyr head held high, Makana walked back out to the kitchen. Xyr tea had drastically oversteeped at this point, so xe dumped it out and ran herself a glass of water instead.

  "What time's the first interview?" Patrick asked.

  "In about an hour."

  "Good. That'll give us time to pick up some donuts on the way there. I'm assuming with all the excitement that you haven't eaten yet."

  "You assume correctly. Donuts sound fine."

  "Speaking of interviews, did you see the Morning Star today?" He pulled his phone out of his pocket, calling up the headline. "Much-Younger Suitor," he quoted with a grimace. "Makes me sound like a twelve-year old with braces asking someone to the school dance. They could've at least gone with Hot Young Stud."

  Makana choked on xyr water, leaning over the sink and coughing. He blithely continued on. "A little consideration, that's all I ask. I've got my reputation to think about here."

  "Write a letter to the editor," Makana said, once xe'd recovered. "I'm sure that'll help."

  He smiled, then watched as xe put on xyr shoes. "Sure you don't want to cancel?"

  "No, it's fine. It'll be a nice distraction."

  *~*~*

  Six hours later, Makana was ready to figure out a way to go back in time and smack xyr slightly-younger self on the back of the head.

  "So how does it work?" the latest reporter asked. "One day, you're obsessed with shoes, and another, you love sports?"

  "Something like that," Makana said, arching an eyebrow "On more masculine days, I collect all the hiking shoes I can get my hands on, and on feminine ones, I can't get enough of backyard boxing."

  He looked annoyed that xe hadn't answered such a clearly well-thought-out and sensitive question with pure honesty.

  What made it worse was that even though the questions were largely ridiculous, they were still a barrage of questions about xyr, about xyr identity and choices and even xyr morality. The first time Makana had gone through a day of interviews, xe'd come home in tears, telling xyr mother that one of the reporters had asked, "if you're not really a boy and not really a girl, then what are you?" And xe hadn't known what to say.

  "I know what to say," xyr mother had told xyr. "You're my Makana. I look at you and I see your father, and me, and your grandparents. We're all a mixture, sweetheart. And so far as I know, no one's ever tried to put a gender on the human soul."

  As always, Makana smiled at the memory, but that expression went stiff at his next question.

  "Your biggest audience is 13- to 17-year-olds. Are you comfortable with that?"

  Xe smiled brightly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

  "Well, because," he stammered, clearing his throat and recovering quickly. "I can't imagine their parents like that."

  "I can't control what their parents feel," Makana said. "I'm just thrilled that anyone enjoys my music."

  "And that's all the time we have," Alyce said. Makana tried not to visibly show relief, giving the reporter a curt nod as xe made xyr way back out of the room.

  "Okay," Makana said, as xe followed Alyce onto the elevator. "I think I'm gonna sleep through the entire three-hour drive tomorrow."

  "Won't blame you one bit," Alyce said. "But you did very well."

  "Thanks."

  "I changed the booking at the hotel, by the way, given what happened this morning," Alyce said. "One room, two beds."

  "Okay," Makana said, and then xe fully realized what Alyce had said. Well, Patrick had said he would be staying with xyr until the letter-writer was caught.

  Maybe if xe'd been thinking about it throughout the day, getting xyrself accustomed to the idea, then it wouldn't have hit xyr like a train right now. As was, xyr heart started jackhammering.

  No. Ohhh, no. This was not happening. What switch had gotten flipped in xyr brain, and how did xe flip it back?

  Relax, xe thought. If xe could put on a plausible mask for reporters, xe could do it with Patrick.

  A distraction, that was all it was. Makana had had a bad fright this morning and a rough day, so of course these feelings had come up. It was just xyr mind trying to defend xyr from freaking out.

  Xe got into Patrick's car, and he smiled over at xyr from the driver's seat. "How'd it go? Or is that a fair question?"

  "About as well as can be expected," xe said. "Half the questions were about getting thrown out of Amelia Blaine's party, some were about the pictures someone took of me with the police this morning, and one or two in there might have been about my music."

  "I'm sorry." He hesitated for a moment and then went on, his voice deliberately cheerful. "So what are your thoughts on horror movies? Good ones, not hokey killer-animal flicks."

  "The scarier, the better."

  "That's what I like to hear." When they arrived at the house, he got out of the car, and then leaned back in to speak to xyr. "Stay here until I finish checking the house, all right? Just in case."

  Makana nodded. "If you're not back in five minutes, I come in guns blazing?"

  He gave xyr a mock-exasperated look and xe grinned, watching as he headed into the house. A couple of minutes later, he waved xyr in.

  As soon as Makana was inside, back in a completely familiar environment, relief hit xyr so hard xe nearly keeled over, and xe fully relaxed for the first time since early this morning. Xe didn't have to put up a front anymore; there were no reporters waiting for a slip-up, no well-meaning manager who thought xe wasn't getting enough rest. Just xyr and Patrick.

  Xe gave a glance towards the office, but quickly shoved thoughts of the yellow envelopes out of xyr mind. Patrick had called a company he'd worke
d with before and had some motion-sensor lights installed while xe was out. He'd checked through the house and found nothing out of the ordinary. Everything was fine. Makana was going to make up a plate of nachos and watch some creepy movies and pretend that this was just like any other night.

  Except tonight, there would be someone sitting next to xyr on the couch, sharing xyr nachos and laughing at the ridiculous decisions the characters made onscreen. And he wouldn't be going back to his own place after a movie or two. Makana couldn't quite decide if that terrified xyr or made xyr feel like a giddy teenager on a first date.

  "One thing I'm curious about," Patrick said as xe set the alarm for the evening. "Why Snow White? I kept expecting someone to ask that, but I guess they'd covered it in other interviews."

  Not that that ever stopped them from asking questions again... "It was the only thing that made sense, really. I wanted a stage name. I'd always thought they were fun, and my mother's name means 'beautiful snow'. Then she married my dad, and his last name was White, and it just fit." Xe grinned, and dropped down onto the couch. "Also, you should see how much some people freak out at the idea of someone interracial taking the name 'Snow White'."

  "I can imagine," he said, though he didn't sound nearly as amused as xe did. Which, no wonder...it was his job to help keep xyr safe, and one of the people who got furiously offended at the idea of a Snow White with dark skin and white hair instead of the other way around might well be the one sending the letters.

  Makana frowned. No, that wouldn't make sense. The writer would've mentioned xyr race by now if that were the case. It was ridiculous. It was 2015, and some people still hated the fact that xyr father had been a black man.

  "I'm sure you've dealt with people like that yourself," Makana said. He was Hispanic; xe doubted he had been lucky enough to make it through life without encountering those who'd hold that against him.

  "My last name is Cortez, I have two mothers, and I grew up in a border town in Arizona. I might as well have had Punch Me tattooed on my forehead," he said, sitting down next to xyr.

  "I'm sorry."

  He shrugged. "It made me want to learn how to defend myself. And from there, other people. I decided I wasn't going to let bullies hurt anyone else."

  "Yeah," Makana said, thinking about the person who'd written xyr letters, about the other people he'd be confronting in this line of work. "But these aren't schoolyard bullies."

  "Same thing, deep down. They want the attention, they want be the most important, and they don't care if they hurt you. A lot of them even enjoy it," he said.

  "I take it you're not a 'ignore them and they'll go away' type."

  "It works on some people," he said, as Makana started scrolling through Netflix, "if they're just taking potshots and looking for a weak target. But if they really focus in on you? Ignore 'em all you want, it's just gonna make them work harder to get a reaction."

  Makana wondered exactly how bad the bullying had been, and wanted dearly to take his hand. But xe didn't know how he would react to that, so xe held xyrself still.

  A moment later, he smiled as xe scrolled past another title. "Oh, man, The Warriors! Retro."

  "I saw that in the theater."

  "Foot-in-mouth syndrome strikes again," Patrick said, and xe laughed and handed him the remote. "How about Session 9? Seen that one?"

  "Never heard of it."

  "Worth it for the setting alone."

  Xe sank back into the couch cushions, feeling absolutely content as the movie started. As much as xe adored singing, much of xyr life was made up of oddities that took place inside a fishbowl—ginterviews and premieres and recording sessions and filming music videos; talking with xyr publicist about what sort of image xe was putting out and going over endless paperwork with Alyce. This was... well, it was normal.

  Makana thought nothing of the choice to watch frightening movies until five hours later, when xe blearily opened xyr eyes and saw a man peering in at xyr from the small window across from xyr bed.

  Xe screamed.

  Patrick crashed into the room, some of the tension leaving his shoulders when he saw xyr sitting there unharmed. "What is it?"

  "Out there!" And then Makana realized that it was still perfectly dark outside. The new motion-sensor lights hadn't come on. It had just been a nightmare. "Aw, hell," xe grumbled, resisting the urge to bury xyr face in xyr hands. "I'm sorry."

  "No need to apologize," he said. "I'm going to check around."

  "It was just a nightmare."

  "Maybe, or maybe the motion-sensor's acting up."

  But xe was almost certain that wasn't the case, and by the time he came back in, xyr heart rate was back under control and the fear had faded.

  The embarrassment, however, had more than taken its place.

  "I'm really sorry."

  "Nothing to be sorry about." Seeing the look on xyr face, he went on as he leaned against the doorway. "Hey. I'd rather you give me a few false alarms than try to convince yourself it was nothing when it's something."

  Makana knew that made sense, but it was still humiliating. Here xe'd barely had time to get used to the fact that xe was harboring a—well, xe didn't know what to call it; 'crush' sounded like something a sixteen-year old would have. Anyway, xe felt something toward Patrick, and now what had xe done but act like a paranoid kid?

  Though the whole incident had resulted in him leaning against xyr bedroom doorway, shirtless, so perhaps it wasn't such a bad situation after all. Xe wasn't entirely sure what Krav Maga training consisted of, but apparently it did wonderful things for one's abs.

  Realizing that xe was staring, Makana quickly looked back to the window. "Think I might move my bed in the morning," xe said. "Having a window right there probably isn't a good idea, given how much I love horror movies. Never used to be a problem when I was a kid. Guess those letters are making me a little paranoid after all."

  And xe was definitely starting to babble. Makana gave him a quick smile and then lay back down. "Goodnight."

  "Goodnight," he said softly, and if xe spent the next half an hour imagining that instead of leaving, he'd climbed into bed next to xyr...well, xe was only human.

  *~*~*

  Makana woke to the sound of xyr buzzing alarm and flailed out to grab xyr phone, grumbling as xe turned the noisy thing off.

  Xe'd been certain last night that xyr embarrassment would linger on until morning. Instead, xe simply found xyrself thinking of the way he'd laughed last night when he'd turned on Leprechaun 4: In Space and then held the remote out of xyr reach.

  Xe smiled and sat up, and then sniffed the air.

  Was that bacon?

  He'd already seen xyr in xyr pajamas, Makana decided, heading directly for the kitchen.

  It was bacon. And French toast. Xe hadn't had that since xe was a kid. Xyr mom had made it sometimes, back when she could still stand in front of a stove. "That's it," Makana said. "I'm keeping you." True, xe couldn't eat bacon in the quantities that xe'd used to, but the doctor had said a little bit once in a great while was okay.

  "You're welcome," he said. "I called one of my colleagues and she brought a few things by this morning."

  Makana moved closer to where Patrick stood at the stove and snatched a piece of bacon off the plate, earning xyrself a smack on the hand and a faux-offended look. Xe grinned and dodged back out of his reach, popping the piece of bacon into xyr mouth. Then xe thought of something.

  "Did I tell you that I forget to eat sometimes?"

  "You may have mentioned it."

  "It's not an eating disorder. I just get caught up in doing other things. Get started writing a song or rearranging the house or going through my finances and then all of a sudden, it's dinnertime and I remember, oh. I need food to live."

  "You can try to distract me by talking all you want; I still see you edging closer to that bacon."

  "Damn."

  "Got everything packed and ready to go?"

  Makana nodded. "Everything's
set; I double-checked twice."

  "Great. We'll head out in about an hour. First, breakfast, and then I'm going to Skype with my parents real quick." He smiled. "Monthly chat."

  "Ohh. You want me to head into one of the other rooms, give you some privacy?"

  "No, no. In fact, they've really been wanting to meet you."

  After breakfast was finished, Patrick set up his laptop at the kitchen table, motioning Makana to sit next to him as he initiated the video call.

  "Makana," Patrick said, "These are my moms, Janine and Marisol."

  Though Makana had told xyrself throughout breakfast that this would be fine, that it was nothing to worry about, suddenly xe was as nervous as if xe was about to go onstage.

  Marisol looked to be Hispanic as well: brown eyes and skin, thick black hair, and a wide smile. Janine was shorter, with pale skin and hair so blonde that it was almost white.

  Both of them looked to be around xyr age.

  Feeling newly guilty for the thoughts xe'd been having, Makana forced a smile. "Pleased to meet you," xe said, edging closer to the laptop. Xyr nerves faded somewhat when xe caught sight of a picture on the wall behind Janine and Marisol. "Is that Jo-Jo the Dog-Faced Boy?"

  Marisol grinned so brightly that Makana was certain she was about to clap her hands in delight. "You know Jo-Jo?"

  "Uh-oh, you got her started," Janine teased.

  "We did one of those 'what did people do for entertainment before TV' assignments in school," Makana said. "I wrote about circuses and sideshows."

  "I used to work in a traveling circus," Marisol said.

  "She was the knife-thrower," Patrick said proudly.

  "We've got pitch cards scattered all over the house," Marisol said, taking her wife's hand.

  "That's great," Makana said. "I've only ever seen them online." The cards had once been given out at carnivals, showing pictures and details of each performer in the freak shows.