Out of the Closet

by Aimee Norin

  “Yes we did,” Sarah confessed. “We never lost it.” She looked at Oceanna guiltily.

  “Thank you, Sarah. For saying that. Most people wouldn’t have the character.”

  “I was ready to tell Jed to go do you-know-what to himself, but now I’m gonna wait ‘till he gets done with his sentence. Have you seen him today?”

  “Neither hide nor hair,” Oceanna said.

  “Me neither. But I hope he gets around here tonight.”

  “Have you seen my mom?” Oceanna said?

  “Yes. She’s in her room sleeping. She was fairly active this morning, in the day room.”

  Oceanna thought, “Sarah. Could you loan me one of those rec therapists for a bit?”

  * * *

  Irena stood with Journey in one of their motel rooms. “Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” Irena was chuckling with excitement. “I’m standing here with you like real people, working with you!”

  Band members chuckled with her. Arnel reached over to touch Neal on the shoulder. “Seems real to me.”

  Ross touched Jonathan. “Real, here,” they both said.

  “Oh, We’re real, honey,” Deen teased. “You want to see?” He held out his hand to Irena for a touch.

  Irena jumped up and down and screamed in ecstasy: “Aaaaaaa-aaaaaaa!”

  The band members laughed with each other.

  The rest of the band held out their hand to Irena for a touch.

  Irena screamed even more: “Aaaaaa-aaaaa-aaaaaaaaaa!”

  * * *

  Gary handed George a list.

  CHAPTER

  29

  Hila parked her car in the Domestic parking lot, San Francisco International Airport., “SFO.”

  She stayed in her seat, took a slow, deep breath.

  Kathleen was sitting in the back seat with Fulton.

  Simi sat in the back with them, as she was skinny and the center seat was narrow.

  Harry had the other front seat.

  “It’s okay,” Kathleen said to Hila. “Look at us?”

  * * *

  Mason, Derie and Jason sat at a picnic table in the park, eating burgers and beans, drinking cokes. Derie took the meat patty out of her burger and gave it to Mason, who made himself a double-decker.

  Jason dug into his beans with his fingers. “No, Jason! Use a fork!” Derie used his plastic fork and showed him how. “Like Daddy and me.”

  Jason scooped his beans and then slapped at them with the fork, playing.

  “Kids!” a passing group of transpersons said, pleasantly.

  Derie smiled at them, knowingly.

  One of them called as they departed, “I used to be one, myself.”

  Mason took another bite out of his burger and talked while he chewed. “That’s it for me. I was ‘set-up,’ not ‘during,’ so I’m done.”

  “Me, too,” Derie said, “and thank God.”

  “Concert should start soon. It’s nearly seven.”

  Mason’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and thumbed it. “Hi! Yes, this is Mason.”

  Derie looked at him questioningly.

  “It’s Regina,” Mason said to her. Then into the phone, “We’re at a picnic table east of the stage—”

  Mason stood and waved his hands.

  He smiled into the phone. “That’s it.”

  He stepped away from the table to greet Regina and Paula who walked toward him from the fairgrounds parking area. Paula was in a mini-dress with granny sandals, and Regna was in jeans and sneakers, with a Journey T-Shirt.

  “Regina!” Derie said, jumping up to give her a hug. “Hello! You’re that friend of Hila’s from Los Angeles?”

  “Yes,” Regina said. “Mason, Derie, this is Paula, an associate.”

  “Hi,” Paula said, shaking hands.

  “You helped swing this gig?”

  Paula laughed.

  Regina smiled. “Only a small part of it. This was largely your doing, and Hila’s. Oceanna’s part was unwanted, but I fear an important part of it.”

  “Where is she, by the way?” Mason asked the group.

  * * *

  The five of them walked through the parking lot and found their way to the Meeting Point at the U.S. Customs and Immigration Exit, Arrivals Level Lobby, International Terminal.

  Hila stood naturally strong, but she was holding back.

  “Ah,” Fulton said. “Don’t worry about it.” He slapped Hila on the back with a clap.

  “It’ll be alright,” Simi and Harry said. Simi slipped her hand through Hila’s to calm her.

  “Sure,” Kathleen said.

  Hila looked at them as if they really didn’t get it. “Guys—” She paused to get their attention. “Look: I’m a man, here.” She indicated herself with both hands. “This is my best dress, but it’s me in here. See?” She squeezed both her breasts with her hands. “These are fake—”

  It wasn’t that it was new information; it was just a surprise to hear her say it.

  “I’m bisexual,” Hila said. “My hair is long. I’ve had my beard removed. I wear makeup. I live in women’s clothes, right down to the lace panties on my hairy balls, and I’m meeting my Muslim parents from Afghanistan who have never seen me before en femme!” She looked at them, imploring them to understand and followed with an almost-sarcastic, “Hello?”

  “They’re gonna kill you,” Harry confirmed. “One shot: bang! On site.”

  “Why you think I’m meeting ‘em at an airline terminal?” Hila’s laughter was skittish. “Why do parents have to be so scary?”

  “It’s okay. We’ll be with you.” Simi said. “You need to fix your mascara. It’s a mess.”

  “I cried a little, okay?” Hila said. “I can cry, too!”

  Simi recoiled before she caught herself.

  “She’s not being testy with you, Simi,” Fulton said.

  Kathleen agreed. “It’s just this—situation.”

  “Don’t I know,” Simi said.

  “Yeah,” Hila said. “It’s a lot easier when it’s someone else.”

  Harry patted Simi on the butt.

  Simi held Harry’s hand there and leaned into her for a hug.

  “Come over here. Your lipstick is smudged, too.” Kathleen dragged Hila to the ladies’ room.

  * * *

  Sarah and Oceanna watched two recreational therapists get people—mostly in wheelchairs—boarded on the special bus they use for outings.

  * * *

  Pop/rock recordings stopped playing.

  Stage lights illuminated. Overhead floods flooded.

  Television news crews turned their cameras toward the stage.

  Mayor Cori walked from the side onto the stage, stopped at a microphone in the center.

  A spot light spotted her.

  Everyone noticed.

  Thousands of people cheered and turned to watch.

  “Hello everyone!”

  Thousands cheered.

  Mason, Derie, Regina and Paula stood by Jason, still at the picnic table, and watched.

  “Helloooooo Kingman!” Cori said from the microphone.

  More cheers.

  “I’m Cori Sable, Mayor of this fine town—”

  Cheers interrupted her.

  The mayor continued. “—and we’re glad to have you all here! Don’t’ let Arizona’s history of trying not to accept LGBT worry you—”

  The crowd broke into cheers for the mayor and jeers for Arizona.

  “—but we’re working on that!” she yelled into the mike.

  A transman walked onto the stage from the side, unbidden.

  Everyone noticed and cheered for him, too.

  Cori turned to see him there.

  He walked up to Cori and put his arm around her waist—kissed her square on the lips, long and hard.

  Thirty thousand people went wild, screaming and hooting.

  After a few seconds, Cori gave into the kiss and put her arms around his neck.

  The crowd screamed even
harder.

  “Aaaaaaaaaahhh!”

  “Oooooooooohhh!”

  “Noooo waaaaay!”

  Excited laughter.

  “Kiss her!”

  “Go for it, man!”

  “They’re gonna do it right there!”

  After a time, the man let go of Cori, smiled to the crowd, and stood back a step to let her finish talking.

  Cori stood there, not talking at all.

  The crowd teased her.

  “Whassamatter!?”

  “Cat got your tongue?”

  “He got your tongue?”

  “Ha, ha, ha! She can’t talk! He blew her mind!”

  “Who is that?” someone with a loud voice asked.

  Cori patted her lips with her hands and turned Ferrari red. “Uh—” she said.

  “Fluent mind freeze, it looks like to me,” someone yelled.

  “Who is he?” someone else asked.

  “Uh— That’s Luke,” Cori said. “He’s a guy— We just met a little bit ago—”

  The crowd laughed at and with her.

  * * *

  The camera on T.V. cut from a close-up of Cori’s embarrassed face to pan the area, showing some thirty to forty thousand people over-filling the park, the streets, and the carnival sites.

  “We should have gone,” Merie said on the couch in Manhattan.

  “We should have gone,” Jerie said beside her.

  * * *

  Mason was laughing so hard he had to lean over on the picnic table to keep his balance.

  Paula was slapping him on the back.

  Regina smiled at him in humor.

  “What am I missing?” Oceanna said, pushing her mom in a wheelchair up to them.

  “Osh!” Derie said, running over to hug her.

  Regina also hugged her, as did Paula.

  Mason continued slapping the table but recovered enough to talk to Oceanna. “The mayor’s been holding out on us,” he said, pointing to the stage. “That dude just planted a monster smacker on her—”

  “And this must be your mother?” Regina asked Oceanna, leaning down to be eye-level with her.

  “Emily,” Oceanna shared. “Yes.” Oceanna stroked her mom’s hair, who looked at Regina and smiled.

  “You’ve come with Oceanna to a concert this evening?” Regina asked Emily.

  “A concert!” Emily said.

  “Yes! That’s right!” Oceanna said, encouraged with a lucid moment. She leaned down to get closer to her mother, as well. “We’re going to see a concert tonight. I love you, Mom!”

  “I love you, too,” Emily said.

  From the stage, Mayor Cori finished her introductions. “So now!” She looked at the audience, teasing them with a long pause.

  The crowd took the bait.

  “Yes!”

  “Alright already!”

  Some people whistled and complained.

  “So now!” Cori said again.

  Journey band members began walking out onto stage to get their instruments ready.

  The crowd was deafening, jumping up and down, screaming.

  Luke walked up to Cori and spoke into the microphone for her. “Ladies and gentlemen! The group you’ve all been waiting for—”

  The crowd screamed harder.

  “JOURNEY!”

  It was non-stop screaming from the crowd.

  Luke took Cori by the waist and led her off stage with a devilish grin.

  The music began immediately: haunting, upbeat songs of life and love.

  “Wheel in the Sky” was the first.

  The crowd pressed closer to the stage and sang with them.

  “…Wheel I the sky keeps on turnin’

  I don’t know where I’ll be tomorrow…”

  The sun in the early evening made everything glow.

  Sparkling lights in the trees gave the area a romantic feel.

  The carnival in the distance…

  Oceanna look at it all. People were there, together. In harmony. She looked more closely. Mason was in his usual cowboy boots, dancing with Derie and Jason to the music, hand in hand.

  Others were as well—their life continuing in harmony, in spite of the fact that they were outnumbered three-to-one with transpeople.

  “There’s something magical in the air, here,” Oceanna yelled to Regina.

  Regina shook her head side-to-side and pointed to her ear. She smiled and leaned closer to Oceanna.

  “There’s something magical in the air, tonight,” Oceanna said.

  Regina nodded vociferously.

  Oceanna pointed several groups out to Regina. “Look how everyone’s getting along!”

  “Yes. I see it!” Regina shouted back to Oceanna. “I feel it, too.”

  “You think Journey did it?” Oceanna asked.

  “Yes,” Regina said. “Journey. And you. And the people. Look at them. This was right to happen.”

  Mason walked back to Regina. “Come on. We got to dance.”

  “I don’t— It’s not my forté,” Regina said.

  “You can do it!” Mason said.

  “I don’t really know how, but I claim I’m trying to present a dignified persona—”

  “Nonsense! You got to learn the Texas Two Step—”

  Regina looked at Oceanna for help.

  Oceanna smiled at Regina. “I’ve been keeping up with him since last week. Now it’s your turn.”

  “What is the Texas Two Step?” Regina asked Mason.

  “It is so-named because the folks in Texas can’t add to save their life.” Mason took Regina’s right hand and held it in his left. He put his right arm around her waist and pulled her in tight.

  Derie, Oceanna and others watching laughed at them.

  Mason started moving the song. “The Texas Two Step is a three-beat dance to a four-beat song. Like this.”

  “And these are the people who promote Reparative Therapy for gays?” Regina asked.

  Mason laughed. “I take the joke for them. But actually, it’s a good dance. Got some ‘Swing’ to it. Watch.”

  Mason held Regina’s hips to his own, so she had to follow, and he began moving her around the area. “One, two, three-and—one, two, three-and…”

  Regina stumbled over everything a few times, getting some of it, but then begged herself out at the moment the song was ending.

  “Thank you,” she said, “But that’s more dancing than I’ve done in a decade.”

  Journey began singing a gentle, loving tune.

  Mason tipped his hat to Regina and took Derie in his arms for the next song: “After all these Years.”

  “…And I’m proud of all the blessings

  You have given me

  The mountains we have climbed to get this far

  You learn to take the laughter with the tears

  After all these years…”

  Journey swooned everyone.

  Arnel Pineda loved the audience through the microphone.

  People who had been holding hands and swaying together began to dance, slowly, to the music.

  The song captivated everyone and seemed to go on forever.

  A group of three transpersons slowly squeezed their way through the crowd. One of them checked her Twitter account. “#plumbing: Oh, my Goddess above, look at that. a hundred port-a-potties over there.”

  * * *

  It was time.

  Hila was getting antsy.

  Simi, lost in a dream, felt the urge and took out her cell phone, pressed icons for her music, selecting “After all these Years.”

  She took Hila by the hand and drew her near, reaching up to hug her deeply. “It’s okay, Hila. It’s okay.”

  Hila’s parents came around a corner and stared at her.

  Her friends stood back to give her room.

  Hila’s mother grabbed Hila by the neck and held on for the longest time.

  Continuing to hold her mother, Hila also looked at her father, who stood with a smirk on his face, yet who remai
ned.

  Hila held her mother to the side and showed her father. She took her dress in her hands and spread the skirt a little to show it off.

  Hila looked to her friends, who smiled at her, and she introduced her parents to them.

  “After all these Years” continued to play, as if by magic, from the walls, everywhere.

  “…After all these years

  You stood by me…”

  They walked across a ramp and onto a chartered Gulfstream jet. Connie Lauder met them and closed the cabin door.

  * * *

  Journey’s song penetrated the world’s television set and mindset. News cameras captured the moment and broadcast it all over the world.

  Couples in Cleveland held hands, sharing the concert with people from Florida and France.

  Groups in Gaza and Israel stopped fighting to stare at the spectacle.

  Trans groups in Russia, China, India, Kenya, Afghanistan—and even Saudi Arabia, with an internet connection—embraced each other, where ever they were.

  * * *

  Oceanna lowered her head by her mother’s, trying to talk with her over the music. Oceanna motioned to two rec therapists behind her, and, with the help of a gait belt around her middle, they helped her into a standing position.

  Oceanna stood with her mother and embraced her as if she’d never let go.

  Mason, Derie, Regina, Paula—everyone—noticed and came over to embrace them as a group—when Hila approached.

  “Hila!” Derie ran to her and embraced her. “It’s you, isn’t it!”

  Simi ran to Mason—

  Kathleen took Wajia and Fulton took Asfand to meet Regina, Oceanna, and anyone else nearby.

  Connie Lauder’s cameraman caught everything on video and sent it around the world.

  “How did you get here?” Mason asked Hila.

  Hila, tears running down her cheeks, mascara hopelessly ruined, shook her head and raised her shoulders.

  “Open Arms” began, and people sang with it, arm in arm, swaying.

  “Excuse me,” Harry said to Asfand, reaching across him to take Simi’s hand. They started dancing slowly together, when Harry moved to kiss Simi long and hard on the lips.

  Asfand’s eyes raised and his mouth opened.

  Hila leaned over and spoke to both his parents over the music. “And what’s more, one of them used to be a guy.”

  Asfand looked at them inquisitively.

  Wajia laughed at him.

  Kathleen and Fulton began to sing along with Arnel, as did most other people, in unison: