“Normal how?”
“Yeah, because I like being gay. There is nothing ‘queer’ about it. And yes, I’m different, but I’m okay with it.”
“But don’t you wish that you were straight?”
Adam thought about it for a while.
“When I was younger, I suppose I did, occasionally. Especially when the pressure got too much; but now—definitely no.”
“So you are drawn to a penis like I am to boobs?”
Adam laughed.
“Yup. You get the picture.”
“And are all queer people—”, Adam lifted his finger.
“Are all gay people freaks?”
Adam shook his head. “Of course not. Just because we prefer the same sex doesn’t change our personalities or behavior. We are human beings with the same issues and feelings as heterosexuals.” He tried to steer the conversation away from his sexual orientation. “But we are here to talk about you, not me.”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“So John.”
“Yeah, Adam?”
“I would like to talk to you about your friends.”
Suddenly John stiffened. “My friends are my business.” He jumped up and walked to the door. “Have a nice day.”
“John! Wait.”
“I have nothing more to say, except, fuck you.”
The conversation which had started so amicably was suddenly over.
Adam saw the second girl at twelve and that session also went quite well. None of the two girls were nearly as troubled or agitated as John.
Later that day he walked to Mr. Black’s office, reported on his progress with the students, taking care to address John’s issue without giving too much information, and then went home.
He caught himself thinking of Sheriff Todd Johnson quite a few times on his way home.
In his apartment he prepared a sandwich and made a few notes about John’s behavior. But he felt uneasy. Adam couldn’t explain what troubled John Things were happening too quickly. He still wasn’t quite over his bitter break-up with Peter, and John’s visit earlier that day, especially with that hostile attitude, reminded him of Peter.
It was almost five to three when he made coffee. The aroma also reminded him of Peter, the very last person he wanted to think about now. As he sat there sipping his coffee, he remembered how they’d met. It was in one of SoHo’s trendy coffee bars.
The place had been packed with locals trying to escape the cold front blowing in from Canada. Adam had just paid for his espresso. As he made his way through the crowd, someone pushed against him. Like a scene from a soap opera—his coffee slipped out of his hands and landed on the shirt of a sexy blonde guy with piercing blue eyes.
“Fuck! Fuck!” Clearly the man had been in pain as he unbuttoned his shirt. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?”
Adam stammered. “I’m sorry! Let me help you.” He tried to wipe the stain off, but Peter continued to rant and rave.
“That’s all I need.”
“I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“I’m going for an audition. I will never get the job now! What were you thinking?”
“Again, I am so sorry!”
The blonde guy stared at him, still trying to clean himself up. He eventually calmed down, realizing that there was nothing he could do about the stain. He must finally have noticed the distraught look on Adam’s face.
“Please don’t say you’re sorry again.” Peter warned as he glanced at the stain. Adam was at a loss for words.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Yeah. Give me the damn part I am auditioning for.”
Adam managed a shy smile. “If it were up to me, you would have it—right here, right now.”
Something in the way Adam said it made Peter look up.
“I—”
“Don’t!” Peter held up a finger again. “Just don’t.”
“I wanted to say my car is around the corner. Perhaps I can give you a lift?”
Peter looked at him, now managing a hint of a smile.
“–May I suggest something else?”
“I’m listening,” said Peter.
“Perhaps taking off your shirt, while auditioning, could increase your chances.”
Now Peter smiled broadly. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Peter buttoned up his shirt again. “Ah, well. Perhaps you’ve got a point there. It could actually be to my advantage.”
“You get my drift?”
“I think I do.”
Adam felt a sense of relief. “Perhaps I can pay for the dry-cleaning?”
The blonde smiled. “That sounds like a plan.”
Adam took out his cell phone. “If I can have your number?” Peter rattled off his number and Adam stored it on his cell phone.
“I’m Peter, by the way.”
“Hi, Peter. I’m Adam.”
“Hi, Adam.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Peter looked at his shirt. “I wish we could’ve met under better circumstances.”
“Likewise.”
For a few seconds they didn’t know what else to say.
“So when is your audition?” Adam managed.
“In about thirty minutes.”
“Let me take you there. Please?”
And that’s how it started.
Peter. In spite of their dramatic breakup, he still had some fond memories of their meeting.
Adam was still drinking his coffee when was a knock on the door.
It was Todd, smiling at him, all dressed up in a T-shirt and jeans.
“How you doin?”
“Fine. Come in.”
“Thanks.” Todd handed an envelope to Adam. “It comes from downstairs. Security asked me to give it to you.”
After Adam had closed the door, he opened the letter.
We are watching you faggot.
He turned pale.
“Anything wrong?” asked Todd.
Adam handed over the letter. Todd looked at it.
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing you can do about it.”
Todd stared at the handwriting.
“You have any idea who could have written it?” asked Todd.
Adam thought before he spoke.
“You asked the principal if I could speed up the John Stone case.”
“You think it’s him?”
“Not necessarily. But someone who knows him.”
“You mean one of his gang members?” asked Todd.
“I suppose.”
“I promise I will look into it.”
They looked at each other for a moment.
“Coffee?” asked Adam when Todd didn’t make any attempt to continue the conversation about the letter.
“Sounds great.”
As Adam made a fresh pot, they talked about Bozeman and the yoga class that morning, deliberately skipping the moment in the shower. Adam gave Todd his coffee and sat down opposite him.
“So how can I help you Todd?”
Todd’s face turned solemn.
“Don’t worry. I’ve heard it all,” Adam smiled. But still Todd seemed reluctant to talk.
“What is it?”
Todd stared at him.
“Please. That’s why you are here. How can I help you?”
Todd took a sip of coffee as if postponing the moment of truth.
“Can I trust you?” Todd finally asked.
“Or course. Everything we discuss is strictly confidential.”
Todd shifted in his chair. Then, after a few seconds, he said: “Adam. You are gay, right?”
That took Adam by surprise. Please not another sermon or warning.
“Yeah.”
“When did you find out?”
It was the conversation he had with John, all over again.
“I knew ever since I was a kid.” He didn’t venture any more information, considering it to be private.
Todd shifted aga
in.
“Do you think . . .? I mean . . .” He took another sip of coffee. “Is it possible to like men and women?”
For a moment Adam was dumbstruck. He tried to hide his shock as he searched for the appropriate words.
“Todd.”
“Yeah?”
“There are many reasons why people sometimes doubt their sexuality. The love of a best friend might be confusing. Or even the loss of a father figure. There are so many factors. Does that sound familiar?”
“You mean do I identify with those problems?”
“Yes.”
Todd shook his head. “None of the above.”
“So? How can I help you?”
Todd put his coffee mug down.
“This is awkward, Adam.”
“What is awkward?”
“When I knew that I had some kind of identity crisis.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” was all Adam could say to cover the uncomfortable silence.
“It actually started the night I met you.”
Adam wasn’t prepared for that.
“Excuse me?”
“And then this morning in the yoga class.”
Adam thought for a while, and then gestured towards Todd’s wedding band.
“Does your wife know?”
Todd nodded. “We are taking a break. She told me that we needed space.”
“When did this happen?”
“About a month ago.”
After a few moments of hesitation he responded: “So? Shall we discuss it?”
Todd nodded. “Please.”
Adam waited.
“I have a proposal,” Todd finally said.
“A proposal?”
“Yeah.” Todd leant forward. “It’s the only way out of this predicament.”
“On a professional level?” asked Adam, trying not to think about what he’d seen in the showers today.
“Always on a professional level,” answered Todd.
Chapter five
It was five in the morning. Adam was still asleep, his brain trying to sort through various images of Sheriff Todd Johnson; pictures of him in his uniform, the badge prominent on the upper side of his muscled torso, the two-way radio on his broad left shoulder like a trophy. And then there was his strong back, with the police pistol hanging around his midriff, those masculine legs hidden under the loose brown chinos—not quite revealing how hairy and sturdy they were. But what fascinated Adam most was that huge bulge in his pants. It concealed so much but simultaneously promised a masculine, all powerful stud.
His clock radio went off. At first Adam thought he was still dreaming, caught between all those erotic illusions as Todd protected him from burglars or managed to fight off robbers. He also remembered the dream where he was unconscious and Todd had to give him mouth to mouth resuscitations to save his life. Boy, oh boy! That was his favorite fantasy, which would also explain his continuous erection throughout his frequently interrupted sleep.
He dozed off again.
The clock radio beeped again. This time Adam sat up. He was confused. Was it his cell phone’s dreaded morning alarm? Was he late for work?
He glanced at his watch. Shit! It was five in the morning. Only then did Adam realize it was the janitor downstairs, trying to contact him. Somewhere a church bell confirmed that it was still near the crack of dawn.
“Yes, what is it?” His voice was sleepy.
“Mr. Young. Could you please come downstairs immediately?”
He wiped the sleep from his eyes.
“What is the problem?”
“We have a surprise for you.”
Adam finally lost his temper. “Surprise? What do you mean?”
The gangs and the homophobes of Bozeman were already getting the better of him, so what new trick did they have up their conservative sleeves this time?
He decided to confront the ‘surprise’ head-on as he put on his boxers.
When he reached the ground floor he heard voices, and the closer he got, the more familiar it sounded. Then he turned the corner.
Oh my god.
“My baby! There you are!”
It couldn’t be.
“Come here. Let mommy give you a hug!”
It was his mother. Out of the blue, Darlene had decided to visit her son. At first Adam was at a loss for words. Then he found his voice again, but it sounded confused and irritated even though he tried to stay calm.
“Mom! What a surprise!”
Surprise indeed. His conscience—his biggest problem, his main prosecutor against the ‘sin’ of homosexuality returned to haunt him yet again.
She chatted incessantly as they walked up the stairs, while he barely managed to respond.
Back in the apartment Adam had no choice but to switch on the kettle. This was the only way to help him to process the shock and still manage to get some happy-son words out to welcome his mom.
She talked nonstop about her trip; the beauty of the town; the tranquility of the grasslands and also the number of times she got lost until she found him through the grace of God. It was like one of those old-fashioned vinyl-records getting stuck in the same groove.
He managed to answer some of her more general questions until finally his mom asked, “Where is your bathroom?”
Even though it was blatantly obvious he pointed in the direction of the open door.
“Down the corridor, first right.”
Darlene disappeared into the bathroom and it was mercifully quiet for a few moments.
After the toilet flushed, he heard her washing her hands as though she was trying to cleanse her skin of his homosexual sins. Then he heard her fidgeting—probably primping her hair. She always wanted to look her best, so this was part of her ritual. He heard her opening her vanity case and doing whatever the hell women usually do. She probably freshened up her lipstick.
When she finally emerged, she had that pink lipstick on that made her look slightly decadent.
Adam was still his boxers in the living room, still bare-chested. He played with the cross around his neck. As he rubbed the cross against his chest, he accidentally tugged on some of his chest hairs. This provided a much needed distraction for him from the conversation that was bound to follow—a conversation about doom, gloom, the fire of Hades only meant for gays but also questions about his lifestyle and sexual preferences. His mom still refused to accept that he was gay and he knew that she would probably never even acknowledge it, let alone accept it.
When she finally emerged from the bathroom, she touched her hair and flashed him a nervous smile. He knew that at some point the issue needed to addressed, so he decided to get the first word in.
“Mom, what are you doing here?”
“First of all, Adam, please put on a shirt. You ran down the stairs half naked. It’s immoral and I was quite shocked.”
He couldn’t resist. “But wasn’t Adam, my namesake, also naked in the Garden of Eden?”
He knew he shouldn’t have said it the moment the words left his mouth, but he had to say something.
“Don’t be so rude. I am your mother and I drove hundreds of miles to support my darling boy.”
He felt the energy draining from his body and sighed.
“This is useless.”
Without another word he went to his room, opened the top drawer and put on a white T-shirt without any slogans—especially not the one saying—I am a faggot and I am away from my computer.
“Happy now, Mom?”
She looked at him quizzically and then managed a slight nod. “Yeah, much better, my dearest.”
He made her some of his Kenyan coffee and offhanded it to her.
There was silence—so much left unsaid.
Adam and Darlene sipped their espresso’s. They stayed quiet as they tried not to address the elephant in the room. For the moment, now that the pleasantries were out of the way, neither of them knew what to say. The only sounds covering the silence were the gulps of coffee—awkwa
rd and loud.
Grateful to do something useful, Adam took the mugs to the kitchen and washed them. More silence ensued, now only broken by a church bell somewhere in town.
He heard a drawer opening, and he froze.
Uh-oh.
Then he heard those same dreaded words he’d heard when his mother had found the sock he’d jerked off into.
“Adam, what is this?”
Battlefields: Everyone has battles Page 6