by Kyell Gold
“Didn’t bother him that Dev’s…you know, out?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t think it even came up. I mean, when it was announced, we talked about it and then talked with our cubs about it too. Our church doesn’t get into politics, so it never came up before. But we made sure to tell the cubs that Jesus preached love, and whatever people do to fill the world with more love you can’t fault them for.”
“I haven’t had great experience with religious groups.” I look over her shoulder into memory, and then back to her friendly grey and orange muzzle, whiskers highlighted in blue by the light above us. “It’s nice to know that there’s a church out there that doesn’t care who I love.”
“There are a lot of them,” Janine says. “You just don’t hear about them because they don’t yell and get on the news. But I don’t think churches should do that anyway. They’re supposed to provide guidance, not make spectacles of themselves. Jesus also preached about that, you know, about the ‘hypocrites’ who ‘stand and pray on the street corners so they may be seen.’ I think those are important words.”
“I wish more religious leaders followed them.” I shake my head and perk my ears back up. “Sorry. It gets old being told that you’re damned to hell all the time.”
She smiles, and as Rob raises his glass to make a toast, she leans over to me and says, “You have more friends than you know.”
The food is good: lake trout and open-mouthed bass and farm-raised catfish (catfish are the exception to “locally caught,” because they’re bottom feeders and I think people would prefer not to think about what’s at the bottom of the lakes where they throw all their garbage). Janine gets the lone chicken dish because she isn’t a big fan of seafood, and I get a laugh with a joke about the chicken being line-caught at a local farm.
I keep an ear open to Dev’s conversation, but they’re mostly making him relive the Boliat game—the last one he won—rather than the championship, so he’s staying in good humor. I see him miming the strip he had that led to a defensive touchdown, and then even Ty’s catch.
When he talks about that, he pauses and looks over at me. Thinking about Ty too, I give him back a smile, and he goes on with his story.
25
Homeward (Dev)
I’m glad to have the meeting so soon after breakfast with my family, because it takes my mind off Gregory for at least a couple hours. The memory of that conversation makes it a lot easier for me to talk to Rob and Janine about planning an event where I will return to Forester as the “favorite gay son,” as Janine puts it. The actual name of the event is going to be worked out, but Rob favors something like “Diversity in Athletics Day,” which he thinks can be abbreviated to “DAD” so that fathers will feel included. Janine isn’t as hot on that; I stay politely out of the argument, because there’s no way to make the day abbreviate to “FUCK YOU OLDER BROTHER.”
I really want to get Lee involved when they start talking about who else to bring to the event, because I know Polecki and that’s about it. They’re talking about some actor and a singer, and it takes me like ten minutes of the conversation to realize that the actor is gay. I never knew. Meanwhile, Lee’s talking to that stallion, who is so excited I think he’s going to run laps around the room.
When the stallion (Chuck) gets to talk to me over lunch, he keeps asking about my coming out, which annoys Rob. I spend the whole lunch balancing stories between the two of them: first a story about the playoffs for Rob, then a story about the press conferences I’ve had.
“And what happened at Media Day?” Chuck says when we’re finishing up the fish. “That whole ‘wish I hadn’t come out’ thing?”
“Ah, that.” I shake my head. “I was under a lot of pressure. Plus the guy who was asking was someone who knows me, who’s been trying to get under my skin for years. Well, months. It feels like years. A few months back he took a picture of me with a female panther to try to convince Lee that I was cheating on him.”
“Were you?” Chuck stares at me.
Uncomfortable images of Argonne rise in my head. “No. But he’s the one who published rumors on his blog, and then my idiot agent—ex-agent—blew them all out of proportion.”
“All’s well that ends well, though, right?” Chuck grins.
“So what was the difference in the two Hellentown games?” Rob asks. “You lose one week, win the next…home team loses both times. How often does that happen?”
I shake my head. “Strike made the difference in the second one. I don’t know. We just wanted it more.”
The marten nods approvingly. “Coach wants to know if you’ll be able to come talk to the football team when you come up for the event.”
“Sure,” I say. “I’d love to say hi to him. Is he around?”
“Nah, he’s out recruiting. He’ll be here then, though.”
“Hey,” Chuck breaks in again. “You can come talk to the FLAG guys tonight, right? Your fox said it was okay.”
I glance at Lee, who’s talking to the grey fox. “If he said okay, then okay.”
“Cool.” Chuck gets a big smile showing all his square teeth that reminds me of Charm when he’s talking about the bunny he just had sex with. I wonder if Chuck likes to play around as much as Charm does, but that’s probably not a horse thing. It’s more an athlete thing. Like Gerrard.
After lunch, we shake with Rob, Janine, and Chuck, and the three of them go off in separate directions while Lee and I stand in the chill snow and look around. “Anything you want to visit again on the campus?”
“We could walk by the stadium,” I say. Without the distraction of planning the event, I’m starting to think about my brother again, and I want to head that off.
I remain quiet as we set off across campus. It’s Sunday, but the lack of classes doesn’t mean the students walk without purpose along the snow-covered paths, ears perked, tails wagging or curling, some hurrying intently, others making their way more leisurely in small laughing, chattering groups. I get distracted watching them and turn to Lee. “When did college students get so young?”
He laughs. “I was just thinking that. Were we this young?”
“Someday, I guess.” I watch a skinny ferret running after a deer whose backpack must outweigh her. To our right, on the green, a couple tigers lob snowballs at each other, and in front of us, paws clasp together, muzzles turn toward each other, backpacks jostle and shift, and the babble of the crowd grows.
A block later we turn, expecting to see the stadium, but it’s a huge brick building that greets us, closer than the stadium should have been. “Right,” I say. “They tore down the old one. Forgot about that.”
“Still want to see the new one?” Lee keeps walking.
I can almost smell the newness of it, the bricks gleaming even in the overcast cold of winter, bright maroon against the glittering white snow. “Sure.” Silver letters topped with snow spell out “Forester Field” (I assume—I can see “Fores” from where we are) and the Forester flag flies atop it, snapping crisply in the wind next to the state flag and the Union flag.
We get up close enough to put our paws to the cold bricks. “New stadium and a Starbucks,” Lee murmurs. “This place is going to hell.”
“Don’t forget Diversity in Athletics Day,” I remind him.
“Oh, right. Is that what they’re calling it?” He chuckles. “You’ll get the Jesus protestors for sure.”
I wonder whether Gregory will help organize those, and my paws tighten to fists. I’m being ridiculous, I tell myself, forcing my paws open. “When are you meeting your mom?”
“Tonight. Father’s picking me up.”
“Where?”
“Wherever I tell him. I didn’t know where we’d be.”
I nod. “You’re coming with me to the FLAG thing though, right?”
He rubs his whiskers. “I’d like to. Let me see if we can do dinner and get me back here by nine. I don’t want to rush things, but if we have an early dinner…oh, and I should
call Salim and ask him to show up there, too.” He leans back against the brick wall, the lighter fur inside his dark brown ears vivid against it. “What are you going to do for dinner?”
“Haven’t really thought about it. I guess I could see if any of the guys are still around. My old roommate, teammates…”
“Girlfriends?” Lee grins and elbows me as he takes his phone out.
“Hah.” I snort. “Maybe I’ll just grab some fast food and call Charm. Talking to Chuck made me miss him.”
Lee’s tail wags. “Say hi for me. You’ll have more fun than I will.” His ears go down and his smile vanishes. “I wish Mother’d meet you.”
“I like your father,” I say. “We can work on your mother. Well—you can, at first. I’ll be on my best behavior when you do re-introduce me.”
“I know you will.” He looks up at me, and I think he wants to kiss me, but we’re both aware that we’re out in the open on a big visible stretch of pavement against the brick wall, next to a street where cars are going by at a swift rate. I remember a night when we kissed on the street without caring who was walking by, but that was when he was in a dress and it didn’t matter so much.
Now we both acknowledge the moment silently, smile, and let it pass. And then Lee says, “You’re not the one who has to worry about misbehaving,” and he takes a step toward me, up on his toes, grabs my muzzle, and kisses me right on the lips.
It’s startling, but I lean into it and wrap my arms around him. We don’t hold the kiss for long, but we don’t cut it short because we’re in public. Cars go by, slow down, maybe, but nobody honks, nobody yells. And when we break apart, nobody is staring at us. A couple people are approaching, but they just smile and hurry on past to whatever their destination is.
“You’re a bad fox,” I murmur.
His blue eyes sparkle up in the crisp cold air. “You like it?”
“You already know the answer to that.” I land my paw between his ears, which splay out above his silly grin. “Come on, let’s go get somewhere warm and see what we’re doing next.”
We go to the student union, where the bustle of students makes me more nostalgic than I want to be. Back when I was on campus, I didn’t have to worry about agents or contracts, about friends who might be losing their minds or their families, about other people’s families accepting me. I just had to pass the classes my dad picked for me and play football. And I wouldn’t trade this life, not for anything, but I also don’t feel like I can sit here among the students happily chatting over open notebooks and laptop computers, drinking coffee and smoothies and eating the greasy pizza from the student union food court. I’d feel like a voyeur somehow, like an old guy coming back to relive the good old days.
“Let’s go to Ketteridge’s,” I say to Lee, but he raises a paw to me. I wait as he threads his way through the tables to where a small arctic fox sits alone, bent over a book. Lee touches his shoulder and the fox looks up, then smiles broadly and stands to hug him. They talk, words I can’t hear over the noise of the room, and then Lee waves in my direction and they both turn.
I give them a smile as they both walk toward me. “Dev,” Lee says, “this is Jason, my TA from that English class I didn’t pass.”
The arctic fox shakes my paw. “Real pleasure to meet you,” he says. “My boyfriend and I have read a lot about you.”
“Ah,” I say, and look at Lee.
“I didn’t know!” Lee laughs. “I suspected, because he has that vibe…”
“You do too,” Jason says. “I was pretty sure, but you can’t really ask those things. Then I saw you in the news. I sent you an e-mail, but you never answered.”
“I’m hearing that a lot recently. I should probably reactivate that account.” Lee shakes his head. “Glad I ran into you, though. We’re getting together with FLAG tonight if you want to come. Bring your boyfriend, too.”
“Maybe.” Jason looks evasive. “I don’t usually get political, you know? Angling for a tenure job, you never know if the head of the department is going to be a homophobe or what. We talked about getting married, but it probably wouldn’t be good for either of our jobs.”
Lee nods. “All the time I was working for the Dragons, I stayed in the closet, and when I was outed I got fired.”
I keep quiet during this talk because it feels like a throwback to Lee’s old activist days, and I don’t know a whole lot about it. When I came out, I got a million-dollar commercial deal, so I don’t feel like I have a lot to say here.
They talk about some professor Lee used to have and Jason used to work for, and Lee tells Jason about his job with the Whalers. The arctic fox doesn’t understand football or follow it much, but he understands that getting a job with a pro team is a big deal for both of us.
Lee makes him promise to try to come to the meeting tonight before we part ways. “Seems like a nice guy,” I say.
“He tried to help me graduate,” he says. “Schruft is an asshole and to be fair, I wasn’t doing really any of the work anyway. But Jason was cool. Be interesting to meet his boyfriend.”
“For years I didn’t have any gay friends and now I’m sort of overflowing with them. Well, he’s not a friend yet, I guess, but I’m meeting more of them.”
“And we’ll see Salim tonight, too.” Lee’s tail wags. “You remember him, right?”
“Vaguely? He was the guy who was with you during the playoff game?”
Lee nods. “After Brian, he was my best friend here. Though that’s kind of like saying that after Strike, Ty is the second-best receiver on the Firebirds.”
“Really? You think Ty’s better than Zaïd?”
“Maybe not right now, but if he keeps working. He’s got a great burst; what he needs to learn is how to shake corners. He’s good and elusive from the slot because it’s easy to run picks off assignments, but when you’ve got a corner shadowing you—you know, like you did in college—it’s harder to get clear in the open field. Strike’s got great speed, but that’s what he’s really good at. He disguises his routes and he’s got a stop-and-start like I’ve never seen anywhere else ever.”
I stare down at him. “You said you don’t watch the wideouts.”
His tail wags more. “For Ty, I don’t.”
“I guess I should get all those opinions from you now, before you’re working for the enemy.” I narrow my eyes at him.
He fluffs out his cheekruffs and his eyes glint. “Just picture yourself pinning the enemy down to the bed.”
I clear my throat. “Uh-huh. When are you meeting your dad?”
He laughs. “We don’t have quite enough time. Unless you want to do a quickie on campus. I used to know a couple places…”
“What? Really?”
We’re strolling past Vickers Hall, a building I think I had one class in, and Lee points to it. “Fifth floor, there’s a closet at the end of the hall that had a broken lock, so the janitors never kept anything in it. But the door closed just fine.”
“Seriously?”
We pass a cluster of students, and he waits until we’re clear of them. “Twice. I blew Misha in there and got a blow job from, um…” He scratches his head. “What was his name?”
I shake my head. “I shouldn’t ask about your college days, should I? And did you really date someone with the same name as my father?” But the story is enticing and kind of hot.
“It’s not short for Mikhail, as far as I know,” he says. “Anyway, I had sex with you in the Dragons stadium.”
A couple foxes ahead of us flick their ears back. But they keep walking, and we keep walking. “Yeah,” I say, lowering my voice. “And Polecki and Co—his boyfriend do that a lot too, I guess. How, uh…how many places do you know?”
“Well.” He waves up ahead. “The best spot is up there, by the Tri. In fact, if we walked over during a change of classes, there was about a five percent chance we’d see someone go in. Used to be, anyway.”
“Why so many places on campus? Didn’t you guys have dor
m rooms?”
“Sure,” he says, “but sometimes you don’t want to go back in the middle of the day. Sometimes you’ve got a roommate and you don’t have anywhere else to go. Sometimes you just want to do something a little dangerous.”
“Ever get caught?”
He laughs and bumps his shoulder into my arm. “I didn’t. Brian did once. It was actually on the roof of the math building with his World Cultures TA.”
“Figures,” I say. “Anyone else ever get caught?”
“It was mostly me and Brian and Allen who did it.” He flips his tail against mine as we walk by a newer addition to the campus, a bright red brick building with an angular glass roof. “There’s a back hallway in there that almost nobody goes in. Last chance.”
“I can wait.” I return his grin. “Cause I don’t care if my roommate catches me with my boyfriend.”
We kill another half hour in the Bookstore looking for Forester souvenirs before his father comes in and meets us. We exchange a few words and then I bid the two foxes good-bye.
I spend another twenty minutes looking around the store, but I’m not sure I want any of this. It feels like holding on to the past. Then I check the sale rack and find a t-shirt that says, “Forester Football 2006 – Division II Playoffs.” It’s in Lee’s size and I’m not sure he ever got one, so I pick it up for him.
On my way to find dinner, stomach starting to growl, my phone rings. I glance down and see Hal’s number. Weird. I pick it up.
“Hey, Dev,” he says.
“Hey. I heard you spent time with Fisher today.”
“Yeah. That’s what I’m calling about.” I wait for him to say more, but he’s quiet.
“Did it go okay?” I search for what he might be calling about. “Was he absent-minded?”
“Yeah.” The swift fox sounds cautious. “That’s part of the problem.”
“What, you can’t use what he gave you? I don’t know anything about his injuries or—or anything else, if you’re asking me to verify that.”