Out of the Closet

by Aimee Norin

  “… IIIIIIIIII need you to staaaaay!”

  So now I come to you

  With open arms

  Nothing to hide

  Believe what I say …”

  Twilight fell to night.

  The sparkling lights in the trees were the major source of illumination throughout the area, other than the lights from the stage, itself.

  Mason noticed a couple of people approaching from the right.

  He signaled Derie and their group.

  Derie turned to look. “What?” Derie started laughing, her hands alternately covering her face and slapping her thighs.

  Connie Lauder’s cameraman turned to video the interest.

  Connie laughed.

  Paula looked at her and joined in, laughing. “That’s them?” she asked.

  Jed and Frank walked up to them—slowly, even timidly—in drag, ankles teetering on heels that were sinking into the grass. They wore matching blue-print mini dresses with a purse on an elbow, wigs, and full-face makeup.

  Mason’s laugh was not derisive, but in genuine humor, as he tried to cope with what he was seeing.

  Jed’s face was a mixture of extreme pain, forced pretense at casual happiness, and—maybe something else.

  “Hello,” Jed said to everyone, shouting over the music. He looked at Oceanna and cracked a shaky smile that obviously took all he had. Jed paused, evidently searching for strength. “I’m—” he swallowed.

  Oceanna smiled.

  Jed looked around at others and then slowly back to Oceanna. “I’m Sheila—” He swished his hips a little, as if in afterthought to match his guise.

  Derie couldn’t take it and bawled laughter at anyone nearby.

  Jed continued. “I’m Sheila, and I’m a girl and it’s nice to hang out with my fellow transgenders—”

  “And I’m Karen,” Frank said, following Jed with ease. He stuck out his hand for a shake, and got several. “Thank you,” he said kindly.

  After Hila’s laughter quieted a little— “Jed! You’re beautiful! But what do I know! I can’t tell E.L.O. from R.E.O.!”

  Oceanna laughed.

  “You got the whole thing?” Hila grabbed Jed’s dress and pulled it up to his chest to see his panties, complete with a tucked erection.

  Jed’s fought to get his dress back down and held it tightly around his thighs, squirming to get away from Hila. His initial reaction was anger: “I don’t—!” but he overcame his feelings and forced his femme. It seemed his mouth wanted to move to different words, but what came out was a shaky, “I love my panties.”

  “I can see that,” Hila said.

  Jed’s face was fire truck red. When he covered his face with his hands, his purse flopped on his elbow, and his wig went slightly askew.

  “You’re more feminine than I would have thought,” Paula said. “I like your dress.”

  “She got the same kind for me,” Frank said. “I don’t see why I couldn’t have the pink one. It was much prettier. And the longer hair—”

  Mason’s broad smile was friendly. He clapped Frank on the shoulder.

  Derie comforted him. “You’re beautiful, Karen. And you’re not the only one to ever have to wear the same dress. You should a’ seen me at my prom.”

  “What did you wear?” Karen asked.

  “I thought it was beautiful,” Derie said, “but it was the same as—I literally mean this—exactly the same as the Susie Ackerman’s: off-white with pink flowers, down to here.” Derie showed Karen her knees.

  Karen looked compassionate.

  Oceanna was taking it all in. “Look—Sheila. You know you’re never gonna live this down?”

  Kim and Evans walked by them, noticing “Sheila” and “Karen.” They laughed and continued on their way.

  Jed gave them a forced, “I’m a girl, and I like my clothes.”

  Paula stepped forward to kiss Jed on the lips, smearing his lipstick.

  Jed stiffened and pushed Paula away. “Are you a man?” Jed asked.

  Paula nodded. “Underneath it all. And you’re a girl, so—” Paula leaned in for more.

  Jed’s face twisted in a mixture of willpower and disgust.

  Paula, laughter and all, grabbed Jed by the waist and began dancing with him, in front of the rest, through the rest of “Open Arms.”

  “… So here I am

  With Open Arms

  Hoping you’ll see

  What your love means to me …”

  “I get to lead!” Paula said, switching hand positions. “New girls don’t know how to dance.”

  “Jed!” Oceanna said, smiling at the poor man.

  “Sheila,” Jed corrected through a shaky smile, while Paula turned him.

  “Sheila, then,” Oceanna said. “Look. How long you have to do this?”

  “A month,” Frank said. “Everything in life, even sex.”

  Derie laughed and slapped Oceanna on the back.

  “Okay! Sheila? Are you and Paula dating, now?” Oceanna asked.

  “She’s my girlfriend,” Jed said, his face scrunched. “It’s my life, and I need to accept who I am.”

  “You don’t need to go that far,” Regina said. “I’m the one who talked to the judge—”

  “No, it’s okay,” Jed said. “I need her. I’m in love—and a little pain.”

  Regina held out her hand to Jed. “Really—” she began. “That’s not what the judge meant—”

  “That’s right,” Judge Back said, pulling up beside them, sporting a cheap wig from the vendor.

  Everyone greeted him.

  “Judge!”

  “Your Honor!”

  “Hello, Judge, I’m Dr. Isler—” Regina said, extending her hand for an introductory shake.

  “Fine, fine!” Judge Back said. “But here, I’m just little ol’ Hank, if you will. Come to see the show! How you doin’ there, Sheila! Lookin’ good!”

  Jed smiled at the judge and leaned up to kiss Paula on the mouth again, tongue and all. He pressed his hips into Paula.

  Judge Back looked at those around him. “I never mentioned that.”

  “I wouldn’t, either,” Asfand said to him.

  “But there he goes,” Hila said.

  Regina leaned over to the judge. “Seeking opprobrium?”

  The judge shrugged.

  Jed kissed Paula again, tenderly, and leaned into her.

  “Or,” Regina said. “Maybe it was in there.”

  “Look, Sheila,” Oceanna said. “I’m okay, now. I forgive you, just for showing up, okay? We’re all good from here.”

  Paula held Jed at arms’ length and looked him in the eyes.

  “That was the three-second stare!” Oceanna said to Regina.

  “What does that mean?” Asfand asked.

  “I think it means he’s in,” Mason said to him.

  Hila laughed. “Or that Paula will be!”

  “Or both,” Derie said.

  “Probably both,” Oceanna said.

  Connie leaned in to her cameraman with a questioning look.

  Her cameraman nodded to her.

  “Oh, this is the best,” Connie said to him.

  Jed pulled Paula’s head closer and spoke into her ear, none too quietly. “Take me to your car! I beg you!”

  Paula took Sheila by the hand and walked over to Regina. “Regina! Gimme the keys. Quick.” Paula took the keys and lead Sheila away.

  Sheila held onto Paula’s hand with both her hands. They walked away, hurriedly, together. Frank followed at a distance.

  “Okay!” Oceanna said.

  The judge smiled.

  Mason imitated Ed Sullivan: “And that’s the way it is.”

  “Answers a few questions,” Oceanna said.

  There was a slight pause after “Open Arms.”

  Gary, offstage, nodded to the band and spoke into a walkie-talkie.

  Janathan nodded back and began playing a soft, loving tune on his keyboard.

  The first fireworks fired into the
air behind the audience, in the fairgrounds behind them—just a few—first one, then two, slowly, gracefully, arcing over their eastern sky in sync with the prelude.

  Simi and Harry held each other and cherished the beauty of it, along with the—forty?—forty thousand around them.

  In his enchanting voice, Arnel began to sing “Faithfully”:

  “Highway run

  Into the Midnight Sun

  Wheels go round and round

  You’re on my mind …”

  People gathered together in groups of two or a few and held each other, dancing together in place, or swaying together as a unit, side-to-side.

  The trees sparkled love to everyone.

  Fireworks played to the music.

  “Oh!” Derie melted into Mason’s arms, who swayed with her.

  Regina stood with the judge.

  Both smiled from ear to ear.

  “I had to come here, but I don’t have to like it,” Asfand said to his wife, his arms folded across his chest.

  “You—are not as terrible as you sound. Give me some love,” Wajia said to him, grabbing him around the waist for a slow dance. “Lets share a dance with our daughter.”

  Asfand’s face was aghast, but he danced.

  Sarah, from the SNiF, led her group in song. She raised her arms above her head, encouraging others, most in wheelchairs, to do the same. She smiled at them and moved her hands side-to-side.

  Transpersons near them helped encourage them as well, raising their arms, swaying side to side, singing the lyrics with Arnel.

  Oceanna’s mother continued to stand, always with a rec therapist holding onto her gait belt. Oceanna put her arms around her mother and swayed a little for her. Hila came over and put her arms around both Oceanna and her mother.

  “That’s family,” Hila said.

  Oceanna kissed Hila on the lips.

  Hila glanced at her father.

  Asfand didn’t miss a bit of it.

  Wajia laughed at him. “Would you rather have her killing people with a machine gun?”

  “No!” On that, Asfand was clear.

  “Oshie,” Emily said.

  Oceanna saw more than heard her mother and broke into tears, hugging her. “Yes, Mom! Yes. I’m Oshie! I love you, Mom!”

  Hila could see what had happened, and held onto both of them, swaying with them.

  Asfand put his hand on Hila’s shoulder.

  Arnel Pineda kept singing “Faithfully”:

  “… And being apart

  Ain’t easy on this love affair

  Two strangers learn to fall in love again …”

  Mason looked at the beautiful evening and kissed his wife on the ear. “Thank you,” he said to Derie.

  Cradling Jason against their legs in a three-way family hug, Derie melted into Mason, kissing him on the neck, running her fingers through his short hair. “Thank you,” she said back to him.

  Derie saw their friend Jerry, off to the side, pressing his way through the crowd with another man in tow. She pointed it out to Mason who smiled.

  Jerry waved at them, and he and the other man began to dance, slow, together.

  “Well,” Derie said. “Maybe Kingman will loosen up, after all.”

  “It was here all the time,” Mason said. “Like Osh and Hila said. It must have hurt to keep it in.”

  Arnel mesmerized the crowd with the melody.

  The crowd of forty-five thousand faced the stage and sang with him, hands in the air, all swaying together in unison.

  Fireworks blew gently behind them.

  “… Whooa, oh-oh-ooh

  Whooa, oh-oh-ooh …”

  Harry kissed Simi yet again …

  “… I’m forever yours

  Ever yours

  Faithfully.”

  Jonathan began the next song on the keyboard.

  The crowd screamed, recognizing it.

  Someone threw five cheap wigs onto the stage. The band members picked them up and put them on, without missing a beat.

  The crowd went wild for them.

  “They’re good!”

  Gary spoke again into his radio.

  “Just a small town girl

  Livin’ in a LONELY world …”

  The crowd sang with Arnel.

  Fulton tapped Harry on the shoulder. “I’d like to dance with my daughter, if I may,” he said to her.

  “Sure.” Harry let him have her and moved back to stand with Oceanna, her mom and their group.

  Fulton took Simi in his arms, his left hand out.

  Simi let him, her right hand out.

  Fulton giggled. “This feels like prom night!”

  Simi giggled with him. “I know, and I’m so happy. Thank you, Daddy.”

  “Me?” Fulton grabbed her more tightly and swirled her around in a circle. “You’ve come home! Everybody!” He yelled, tears in his eyes.

  Everybody looked.

  “This is my daughter!” Fulton yelled. “And I am so proud!”

  People clapped and cheered.

  Fulton took her back in his arms and danced. “Your hair smells like your mothers,” he said.

  “We use the same conditioner, I think,” Simi said.

  “Maybe more than that.”

  Simi cried into her father’s shoulder.

  Kathleen joined them for a three-way dance, hugging them both closely.

  Fireworks built with the song, bursting faster in the fairgrounds.

  Simi raised her voice to their ears. “Love can sooooo change your life.”

  One transwoman played air-guitar.

  Another played air-keyboard.

  A guy played air-drums …

  “… It goes on and on and on and on

  Strangers waiting

  Up and down the boulevard

  Their shadows searching

  In the night …”

  Jed and Frank—Sheila and Karen—walked onto the stage from the right.

  Jed was shaky on his feet, but—

  “Is it me,” the judge said to Regina, “or does he look—satisfied?”

  Regina laughed in happiness.

  Karen held Sheila’s waist and guided her to the microphone beside Arnel, who smiled and let them come.

  The band played the musical interlude, stretching it a little, improvising.

  Karen put Sheila by the mike.

  “Life’s a Journey!” she said into it.

  The crowd whistled and cheered for her.

  Sheila showed them her dress. “You like it?”

  “Love it!

  “Take it off!”

  People laughed.

  “I’m very sorry,” she said to everyone.

  “No problem!” several people from the crowd shouted.

  Sheila moved to the side, and Frank spoke into the mike. “I didn’t choose this one. She did. I wanted the pink one.”

  People laughed.

  A dozen camera crews and a thousand phones caught it all.

  Sheila and Frank walked off stage to the left.

  Gary spoke into his radio.

  Fireworks blew faster and faster.

  Arnel sang the song,

  “… Workin’ hard to get my fill

  Everybody wants a thrill …”

  The crowd was in non-stop bedlam, some waving hands more vigorously to Arnel.

  People danced and laughed together, pumping their hands in the air to the beat—until Journey finished the song—

  “… Don’t stop believin’

  Hold on to that feelin’ …”

  —and concluded in a flurry of applause, whistles and cheers.

  The gracious band blew kisses to the audience and waved for a long time, eventually leaving the stage, smiles large.

  The audience begged for an encore.

  “Noooooo-oooooooooooo!”

  “Come back!”

  “Whaddya doin’!”

  “Bands always do this. There has to be an encore!”

  “What wi
ll they play?”

  “Something to leave us jazzed!”

  “Coooooome baaaaack!”

  People whistled and screamed. Someone whistled particularly loudly and a man in front of him bent over to avoid the painful sound.

  “Sorry!” the man behind said.

  “No! Keep doing it!”

  After a couple of minutes, Journey walked back onto the stage.

  “Bands always do that,” Derie said, a broad smile on her face.

  The band took up their instruments and began singing hard and fast into the mikes.

  “Any way you want it!

  That’s the way you need it!

  Any way you want it!”

  The judge grabbed Regina’s hand and dragged her into the crowd beside Simi and her parents. The judge’s dance was crude but inspired.

  Regina laughed with him and did little twirl. “Oceanna! Hila!” Regina called.

  Oceanna saw her, but the music was too loud to hear her. She tapped Hila on the shoulder and flagged her hand in Regina’s direction.

  “Your mother!” Hila shouted, ineffectively.

  Oceanna looked at her mother.

  “Emily!” Hila pointed to Oceanna’s mother, who had sat back down in the wheelchair.

  Oceanna waved her hands at Sarah and the one rec therapist they had at that time and motioned to Regina and everyone.

  “This way!” Regina yelled.

  Sarah nodded and pushed Emily’s wheelchair to follow.

  Fireworks blew in the sky, building through the song.

  Harry, Simi, Kathleen and Fulton saw Oceanna and everyone gathering, so they moved over to join.

  “Anyway You Want It” became “Separate Ways (Worlds Apart),” and the entire assemblage of what-had-grown to nearly fifty thousand people danced together in unison: jumping up and down together, arms overhead, hands pumping the air to the beat:

  “… Someday love will find you

  Break those chains that bind you

  One night will remind you

  How we touched

  And went our separate ways …”

  Wajia grabbed Asfand’s hand and dragged him into their group.

  Sheila and Karen joined them.

  Regina put her arm around Sheila, and Hila put hers around Karen.

  A nearby transwoman kissed a woman on the mouth.

  Wajia closed Asfand’s mouth and wrapped him in a vigorous embrace, laughing in his ear.

  “Admit you are a softie!” Wajia shouted into his ear.

  “What?!” Asfand said back to her.

  Wajia grabbed Sheila and brought her to Asfand, wrapping Asfand’s arms around her.

  “Dance!” Wajia said.

  Asfand couldn’t hear her, but the meaning was clear enough. He started dancing with Sheila, jumping up and down to the beat of the music.