Facades

by Alex Marcoux

  Chapter 21

  Sidney’s a mother? Anastasia could not believe it, even after meeting Justin. She doesn’t strike me as having a maternal bone in her body.

  Later that week, Sidney negotiated an arrangement between Stephanie and Anastasia. Stephanie agreed to move to Los Angeles and not discuss her past relationship with Anastasia. She would continue to receive a modest monthly allowance from Anastasia, unless she opened her mouth. At which time, all support would cease and any music business prospects would be threatened.

  The weekend after Memorial Day, Sidney was enjoying her pool with Justin when the phone rang. “Hello,” she answered.

  “Sidney, I told you I want to boycott Colorado,” Anastasia said.

  Sidney was caught off guard. “How’d you get this phone number?”

  “What?”

  “My phone number, how did you get it?”

  “Sid, I stayed there last weekend, remember?”

  “It’s an unpublished number; it’s not listed on any of my phones here, and I certainly don’t remember giving it to you. How’d you get it?”

  This woman can really be a bitch, Anastasia thought. “If you must know, when I was at your home, I called the operator and asked what number I was calling from.”

  There was a long pause on the phone. “I don’t take business calls at my home. In the future, call my office. If you want to discuss Colorado, come by my office Monday afternoon.” Anastasia heard a dial tone, fueling her anger.

  Anastasia slammed her tour schedule on Sidney’s desk that Monday afternoon. “I told you - I don’t want to perform in Colorado. I want to support the boycott.” She was scheduled to Perform at Fiddler’s Green, just outside of Denver, in August.

  “And I told you I would look into the boycott, and I did. I don’t believe the boycott is effective and I think it’s in everybody’s best interest to go.”

  “Go? Have you seen the list of performers that are boycotting? I’ll be the embarrassment of the entertainment world.”

  “You will be if you go and don’t make any noise,” Sidney agreed.

  “What?”

  “There are two philosophies regarding protesting Amendment 2. Even the gay community is split on it. Some people boycott, others make noise.”

  “And I want to boycott,” Anastasia said stubbornly. “Do you understand the politics involved in this?”

  “Enough to know that it’s time to stand up to those narrow-minded citizens of Colorado. This is wrong, Sid. By boycotting I can at least bring attention to the matter.”

  “But that’s my point. Not all of Colorado is so conservative and narrow-minded. Did you realize that Denver, Boulder, and Aspen all have city ordinances that prohibit discrimination based upon sexual orientation?”

  “Yes, Sid. I know that it was these gay-friendly laws that fueled Colorado Springs’ Christian activists to form Colorado for Family Values. And it was this group that lobbied to get Amendment 2 on the ballot. But what it comes right down to is-these city ordinances are going to be null and void if Amendment 2 is enforced,” argued Anastasia. “Don’t try to tell me that Colorado is progressive. Fifty-three percent of the population voted for Amendment 2.”

  “True, but I can’t believe that all of those Coloradans actually understood what they were voting for. The actual language of the amendment is very misleading. Have you read it?”

  “No,” Anastasia admitted.

  “Colorado for Family Values campaigned that the amendment’s purpose was to prevent homosexuals from enjoying special rights. They neglected to explain that these so-called special rights were really equal rights. They also neglected to tell people that the effect of the amendment would legalize discrimination against gays and lesbians.”

  “Okay, but I still don’t understand why you’re objecting to the boycott.”

  “Anastasia, most people who are boycotting Colorado are boycotting the populated or tourism areas, like Denver, Boulder or Aspen. These areas are gay-friendly and have the heaviest gay populations in the state. By boycotting Denver, you’re punishing your gay fans, and we both know you’ve developed a very strong gay following.”

  “But not everybody sees it your way, or there wouldn’t be a boycott.”

  “You’re right. I don’t disagree with those entertainers and businesses that chose to boycott. Their boycott has brought attention to the issues. In their way, they have made a political statement: Amendment 2 is wrong. That’s important.”

  “Then why can’t I do the same?”

  “There’s more at stake here than just gay rights, Anastasia. Amendment 2 attacks the Fourteenth Amendment, the right to equal protection. If you can take constitutional rights away from one group, do you think it will stop there?”

  “Then what do you want me to do?”

  “I think you should go to Colorado and make some noise,” Sidney smiled. “And I’ll help.”

  *

  Anastasia’s schedule for the summer was demanding, but whenever she could come home, she did. During her home breaks, she frequently visited Sidney and Justin for sailing excursions. Initially she visited without invitation, which annoyed Sidney. Then she managed to befriend Justin, who was quick to extend an invitation to the shore.

  On Anastasia’s first uninvited visit she arrived with pizza and soda from the pizzeria in town.

  “What are you doing here?” Sidney asked, as Anastasia handed Justin a soda.

  “It’s nice to see you too, Sid.”

  “I told you, I don’t do business in my home.”

  “Who said anything about business?”

  Anastasia and Justin bonded quickly. Sidney was surprised at how good Anastasia was with him. I wonder if she wants children one day.

  Anastasia knew Justin was gone on most weekends and assumed he was with his father. Occasionally, she would ask Justin questions about his father. But Sidney had prepared him not to discuss his father or their life with anyone, particularly Anastasia.

  During one of Anastasia’s visits, Justin was washing and waxing the ski boat at the dock while Anastasia and Sidney sat by the pool, enjoying a cold drink. Sidney watched Justin and noticed that the river seemed to be getting choppy, and the wind was picking up.

  “How are the acting lessons going?” Sidney asked.

  “I think well. That’s the feedback I’m getting, anyway,” Anastasia answered, then changed the subject. “So, who’s Justin’s father?”

  “Aren’t we getting direct.”

  “You’re obviously not interested in responding to the subtle approach.”

  “It’s personal.”

  “And we’re not good enough friends to share that information with me?”

  “That’s correct,” Sidney answered.

  “Bitch,” Anastasia said.

  “Absolutely,” Sidney agreed, then the two laughed.

  “Is it Michael Whitman?”

  Sidney was surprised at the question, but did not show it. “Is what Michael Whitman?”

  “You know. Is Whitman JP’s father?”

  “What do you know about Whitman?”

  “I heard you were married to him. Just wondering if he was the father.”

  The wind had intensified and Sidney found herself pulled between the conversation and watching Justin as he worked on the boat. “JP,” she called down to the dock.

  “Yeah, Mom?”

  “There’s some bad weather coming in. Wrap up what you’re doing.”

  “Okay, Mom,” he yelled back to Sidney.

  Then Sidney returned to her conversation with Anastasia, and for the first time, Anastasia saw concern in Sidney’s eyes. “Anastasia…Michael is his father. But this needs to stay between us, do you understand?”

  Anastasia did not have a chance to respond. There was a thud, then a splash. Sidney looked back to the boat, but Justin was nowhere in sight. She ran toward the dock.

  “JP?” she called out. But there was no response and the two women continued thei
r bolt to the river.

  Sidney was almost in a panic when she reached the boat. Oh God. Where is he? Justin was not there. A storm was moving in and the water was rough. Sidney desperately searched the water for a sign of him. “Justin?” she cried. A crash of thunder startled them.

  “JP?” Anastasia called out. Each cry became more frantic.

  Anastasia was the first to spot him, and she dived into the whitecaps. Justin was floating face down about twenty feet out. Sidney dived in behind Anastasia. Reaching the boy first, Anastasia pulled his face from the water, then the two women pulled Justin onto the beach and laid him on his back. Sidney cried, “Oh God, he’s not breathing.”

  It was Anastasia who took control and began CPR. Sidney knelt next to her son and watched helplessly as Anastasia worked on him. Oh God, please let him be okay. Please.

  Within a minute Justin started coughing and spitting up water and soon was breathing on his own. Sidney cradled the boy and rocked him as the rain came down, camouflaging her tears.

  “Let’s get him to the doctor; he’s got a bump on the back of his head,” Anastasia said.

  But Sidney continued to rock him, and would not let him go.

  Anastasia drove Sidney and Justin to the emergency room. Justin required five stitches on the back of his head, but otherwise he was fine.

  Later that evening, Justin told Sidney, Anastasia and Lynette what happened. “I was working on the boat and the waves started getting big. I lost my footing and fell. I must have hit my head and fallen overboard, but I don’t remember.” The boy felt the bandage on the back of his head, then blushed and continued, “The next thing I remember, Anastasia was kissing me.”

  “In your dreams,” Sidney laughed.

  Later, after Justin had gone to bed, Sidney and Anastasia were talking about the events of the day. Lynette was picking up the dishes after their late dinner on the porch.

  “It’s all my fault,” Sidney said.

  “What are you talking about?” Anastasia asked.

  “The accident. I should have had my eye on him, but I didn’t.”

  “It was an accident, Sid.”

  “As soon as the wind started to pick up, I should have pulled him out of that boat. What kind of mother am I?”

  “Ms. Marcum, perhaps you’re being a little hard on yourself,” Lynette said. She picked up the remaining dishes and returned to the kitchen.

  “Sidney, it was an accident. It wasn’t your fault. From what I’ve seen, you’re a great mother to JP,” Anastasia added.

  Sidney got up and went to the screened window overlooking the river. The river was quiet after the storm. “I keep thinking about what could have happened if you weren’t here.” Sidney’s back was to Anastasia and her voice was almost a whisper.

  Anastasia joined her by the window.

  “I almost lost him.”

  Anastasia could see the light reflect tears in Sidney’s eyes. Gently, she put her arm around Sidney’s shoulders, then followed her gaze to the river. “But we didn’t lose him, Sid.”

  “You were the one that found him in the water. I didn’t even see him….” Sidney turned to face Anastasia, looking into the familiar eyes. “What if you weren’t here?”

  Sidney wrapped her arms around Anastasia and hugged her. “I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough,” she whispered.

  “You just did.”

  Anastasia paced back and forth in her hotel room of the Denver Marriott Tech Center. As she paced the floor, she practiced the speech she was scheduled to deliver later that evening. J have to admit, it is good, she thought.

  One month earlier, Sidney had issued a press release, indicating Anastasia would give a statement regarding Amendment 2 before her scheduled performance at Fiddler’s Green. Sidney wrote the speech and worked with Anastasia for days helping her refine her performance.

  She glanced at her watch. Three o’clock. I have four hours until- A loud knock disrupted her thoughts. At the door she glanced through the peephole, but did not see anyone.

  There was no one in the hallway, but she found an envelope on the floor. “Anastasia” was handwritten on it. She picked up the envelope and took it in her room. Inside, she found six printed brochures. As she read the titles of the brochures, her heart began to race. “Medical Consequences of What Homosexuals Do,” “What Causes Homosexual Desire and Can It Be Changed?” “Child Molestation and Homosexuality” “Psychology of Homosexuality” “Violence and Homosexuality” and “Born WHAT Way?’

  Anastasia spent the next two hours reading the brochures. She was amazed at the blatant lies and distorted facts that filled the brochures. The leaflets were professionally produced. They each had different color themes, a picture, illustrated graphs or tables. These must have cost a fortune to print, she thought as she looked at them. The brochures were produced by Family Research Institute, which meant nothing to Anastasia. Then she turned over the green brochure and read “Colorado’s Choice on November 3-Proposed Amendment 2.” Reality hit Anastasia. Colorado for Family Values is going to be there tonight in full force.

  At 6:30 P.M., Anastasia joined Sidney and Natalie in the lobby of the hotel. As the three walked outside toward the limousine, Anastasia handed the envelope to Sidney. “I got a delivery from our Christian Fundamentalist friends.”

  In the limo, Sidney opened the envelope. “They’re trying to unnerve you. Are you okay?”

  “I’m nervous,” Anastasia admitted.

  When they arrived at the service entrance to Fiddler’s Green, the women noticed a crowd of people had gathered. A news camera team was filming their arrival and the crowd’s reaction. Security guards pushed the line of people away from the limo, allowing Anastasia, Sidney, and Natalie to get out of the vehicle.

  One side of the crowd started yelling at the sight of Anastasia. A demonstrator held a sign high, saying “No compromise on the word of God.” Another waved a sign saying “Homosexuals repent-sin no more.”

  The opposite side of the crowd cheered at Anastasia and waved signs saying “Undo 2,” and “Hate Is Not Our Family Value.”

  As the three women entered the dressing room, Sidney noticed that Anastasia seemed pale.

  What the hell am I doing? Anastasia asked herself. I’m not a politician. I’ve never made a speech to a crowd before. What if I look stupid? She sat in front of the dressing room vanity mirror and stared at her reflection. What the hell was I thinking?

  It was 6:50 P.M. The opening act was scheduled to start at 7:00 P.M. Natalie recognized Sidney’s sign to leave her alone with Anastasia, and left the room.

  Anastasia was still in her jeans and tee shirt. She looked at Sidney in the mirror. “I’m nervous, Sid. What if I freeze? I’ve never done this before.”

  Sidney pulled a chair next to Anastasia, then turned Anastasia’s swivel chair so their eyes could meet. She recalled Anastasia’s stage fright the night of the Super Bowl. “You’re not going to freeze because this is too important, to you and a lot of other people. You’re going to do great. The material is good. Just do it the way we practiced. Remember, you’re not here to change the world. You’re here to be heard. Do you trust me?”

  With my life, Anastasia thought as she looked into Sidney’s familiar eyes. “Yeah, I do,” she said. She left the dressing room and walked backstage where the opening act performers were getting ready to go on. Anastasia stood silently for a moment, collecting her thoughts. She turned to Natalie and Sidney and smiled, then she picked up the microphone and ventured through the curtain to the large empty stage.

  Her presence on the stage initiated a mixed reaction from the crowd. There were cheers of satisfaction and heckles of disapproval. Anastasia casually tapped the microphone to see if the public address system was working. She waited for the audience to settle but it did not happen. The demonstrators seemed to be harassing each other.

  What the hell do I say to shut them up? I don’t think, ‘Thank you. Glad to be here tonight,’ is appropriate. Ho
w about, ‘Shut the fuck up?’ Sid would love that. “Excuse me Colorado, can I have your attention? A little quiet please? Can we get on with the show?”

  The crowd did simmer down a little, giving Anastasia an opening. She took a deep breath, then started. “Last November’s election was one of the saddest days for civil rights for our country.” She was immediately heckled with calls of disapproval. “Because on November 3rd the people of this state-” The noise level from the crowd quickly rose and her voice was soon lost in the demonstrators’ jeers. Oh God. What do I do?

  The demonstrators were harassing each other again. When a fight broke out in the crowd Anastasia walked back to an amplifier in the rear of the stage. She intentionally created feedback. The reflux of sound from the speakers to the microphone generated a piercing noise from the loudspeakers. She increased the volume on the amplifier, boosting the obnoxious noise. Soon she had the attention of her audience. She stopped the piercing noise and silence remained.

  “You know you’ve really pissed me off,” Anastasia said to the crowd.

  Oh God, Anastasia, stay with the speech, Sidney prayed.

  “This is the deal, Colorado-I came here tonight to be heard. So, if you don’t shut up, I’ll have security remove you. For those of you who don’t want to hear this, I invite you to leave now, peacefully.”

  She paused and looked for departures. But there were none.

  “If we can’t do this peacefully, I’ll shut this show down, and there’ll be no concert tonight.” Anastasia’s train of thought had been broken. She stood in silence in front of the crowd and did not know where to begin. Oh God, don’t let me freeze, she prayed.

  Sidney knew Anastasia had been shaken. Relax Anastasia, you can do this. Then, a little voice in Anastasia’s head said, “Just be yourself and speak from your heart.”

  “About four months ago, I told my manager I wanted to boycott Colorado. But she wouldn’t let me off that easily.

  “Since last year’s election, it’s bothered me that the people of this state could pass such a hateful law. Colorado, if you knew the implications of Amendment 2 and voted for it, shame on you. But Colorado for Family Values, shame on you. You have turned this state upside down. You brought this hateful initiative to your home by misleading good citizens into believing Amendment 2 was something other than it is.