They both turned and scanned the headline. Mother of boy killed in highway accident says they will sue the trucking company.
“Can they do that?” Whit asked. “He walked in front of that truck on purpose.”
“I would have, too, if I looked that pretty and was a guy.”
“You don’t have to worry!” Whit quipped, and they both snickered. “Oh man I feel so bad about laughing but, what are you gonna do?” Whit felt very strongly about this. She had been devastated when the incident had first been reported. “I talked to him that morning. He was here at school. He put all his stuff in his locker, smiled at me, and said he was going to cut class, but that this would be the last time he did it. If only I’d asked why, but I had no idea. I was flattered he even spoke to me! You know how shy he was.”
Danny nodded. “I could never act in a play like he did.”
“He was acting all the time,” Whit said wisely. “I should know. Did you see that picture of himself he took, wearing that dress? His mother tried to say it was from the play, but it wasn’t. I…excuse me. I need to use the unisex-thank-God restroom.”
Danny knew she was going off to cry, so just smiled and touched her hand briefly. He had his own battles to think about. One thing he knew for sure, though, was that he would never take his own life, whether his parents accepted him for what and who he was, or not. Life isn’t only high school, or bullies, or even parents, he thought. It’s much bigger than that! Life isn’t worth throwing away to make a point, or in the boy’s case, to hurt his parents for not being what he needed. For himself not being what he wished he was—’normal’. Normal is a setting on a washer, his father had always said. Thinking this made him grateful for the parents he had.
Waiting for Whit to return, he watched the snow falling outside, knowing it was only going to get worse. He hated being cold, always had. He shivered, and wanted to put his jacket back on, but he didn’t want to look uncool. His thoughts turned to Colin, who, that Friday morning, had run down a snowy highway embankment, and continued on to his destiny. He pictured the boy wearing the same dress that he had on when he had posted his picture on his Facebook page. It made him want to cry. It had been a spaghetti strapped summer dress, and he knew Colin must have been cold as ice.
The wind was howling by the time they were ready to leave. They didn’t want to walk all the way back to the school, let alone home after that. Still, Mr. Jay had offered to help them, and it would be rude not to go. Besides, they liked him. And he was hot. They bundled up the last cookie to take to him, then put on their gloves, hats, and scarves, laughing at themselves as they did, threw their trash into the can (Danny missed, blushed, picked it up, and placed it inside) and left, the door jingling behind them as it closed.
“Holy crap,” Whit said, as they turned into the wind to walk back to school, “I hate winter.” Danny’s nose had already begun to run. They joined hands and took off running through the falling snow.
When they got back to school and bucked the crowds leaving, they walked down the hall toward the art room, passing the gym and cafeteria, shaking the snow off themselves. They were still laughing and flushed from running, and had come in with their hands still in each other’s gloves. People had looked, but neither of them noticed. “You make me feel like I’m ten years old again,” Whit laughed.
Danny smiled fondly. “Back before we knew better. Back when we were kids.
“I never wanted to leave those days behind. I didn’t want this,” Danny went on forcefully. His happiness was still glowing from his face, but his words belied his mood. “I never wanted to know I was gay. I didn’t want to be gay. So I didn’t want to grow up.”
“Well,” Whit said back as they approached the art room, leaving a trail of melted snow in their wake. “Who said we have to? Not today anyhow.”
She turned to face Danny as she said this, and their eyes caught, but this time they did not break out into giggles. This time, despite not wanting to leave childhood behind, they leaned in toward each other as if a magnet were drawing them near, and their lips touched as lightly as the snowflakes had done before. It might have gotten deeper, but more kids started coming down the hall, and the moment, perfect in its briefness, was left behind.
* * * *
They caught their breath before opening the door to the art room, wondering what Mr. Jay had to say to them. It was a surprise to enter the room and find him standing there kissing another man. And not just kissing like they had just done, mwah and done, but mooshing faces, sucking lips, hands-on-each-other’s-butts kissing. Danny smirked, and Whit said brightly, but with a sarcastic undertone, “Is this a bad time?”
They tried so hard to not laugh when Mr. Jay tried to pull away, tried to peel the other man’s hands off his butt, tried to speak, but couldn’t. Then the other man smacked Mr. Jay on the butt, saluted the two kids, and said, “See you later, sport. I have a big surprise for you at home.” He winked at the kids. “I love you! Happy anniversary, Jay-Jay!”
“Uh, you wanted to see us?” Danny stammered, smiling from ear to ear. Role model! Gay teacher! Love is in the air! How cool is this?
The door closed behind Mr. Jay’s partner, and he sank onto the nearest table, sitting on a freshly water-colored but not quite dry yet painting. He would have very colorful khakis. Danny noticed Mr. Jay was blushing. He tried his best to not look lower down at the front of his khakis, but he couldn’t help himself. There it was, tenting the fabric out. No wonder he wore pleated pants. He glanced down at himself. Nothing. Nothing to see here, folks, move along.
Mr. Jay took a deep breath and wiggled a bit on the desk, hoping to become more comfortable, but it didn’t work and there was nothing he could do about it with the kids here. So, back to the topic at hand. He cast his sea-blue eyes at them and saw what he knew was admiration on Danny’s face, and incipient giggles on the girl’s, er, whatever she was. He had met a few transgendered adults over the years, almost all of them going the opposite way to this poor child, that is, they were male to female people. Dealing with gender variant young people, especially for a teacher, was a touchy subject. Perhaps he should have asked another teacher to…no. Unfortunately for him and for these students, being out here at this school meant possibly losing your job, or being teased relentlessly. He’d tried his best to start a Gay-Straight Alliance, and to talk to the PTA about anti-bullying and safe school activities, but all he got out of it was a determination to make his own classroom a safe place for everyone.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” he said, firmly back on earth again.
“Uh, happy anniversary!” Whit said, smiling. “Was that your boyfriend?”
Danny chimed in with, “Your partner?”
Mr. Jay smiled. “My husband. We’ve been married a whole year today. I can’t believe it.”
Danny said, “We won’t tell anyone. I wouldn’t feel safe if people knew about me. I guess maybe you feel the same way.”
Mr. Jay frowned “I’m sorry,” he said. “It shouldn’t be this way, but it is. What I can suggest is this; a lot of online venues, and I jotted down some of the ones I know are safe. You have to be extremely careful what you put out there about yourselves. The university has an LGBT support group with meetings, but I don’t know how safe that would be until you’re eighteen. There’s a meeting of PFLAG but it seems to be oriented more toward parents. I take it your parents don’t know yet? Your safety is the most important consideration for timing your personal outing. Even if they are supportive, once you come out of the closet, it’s like they go into the closet. You’ve known about yourself for a while, but it would be brand new for them.
“At worst, coming out at home can be similar to a domestic violence situation, in my opinion. People in that situation are told to have a back-up plan and an escape route in mind. They suggest having a cellphone handy, and a go-bag ready. Or even to keep important stuff or a change of clothes, outside the house. You never know for sure, but if your coming out will be d
angerous at home, or you may be kicked out, then you want to put that off. Like I said, safety first. That said,” and here Mr. Jay sighed, looked at the floor as if his own not-so-distant past were there, and added, “My phone number and address are on the cards I made for you. If you fear for your life—call me. I’ll come and get you.”
“But you could lose your job!” Danny blurted.
Mr. Jay just looked up at him, steady and sure. There was a look of acceptance, or perhaps it was surrender, in his face. He shrugged just a little as if to say, So? Then he nodded as if to excuse them but added, “There’s just one little thing I want from you. It’s this; don’t do what Colin did.” He stopped to wipe his eyes. “Just—don’t. It gets better, life goes on, things do improve, all those sayings are true. I don’t want to lose another one of you. You’re too beautiful, too talented, too valuable to the world, and to the rest of us as well. Ah crap, someone’s cutting onions, I just know it. Go on, go home, see you tomorrow. Promise?”
* * * *
Those words spurred Whit on her way home. She felt fearful, exhausted, and yet empowered, all at the same time. She wanted to sing her truth out to the world, and she wanted to hide in her bedroom closet forever. She wanted to tell her parents, and she wanted to deny herself yet again. She wanted to lock Dusty back inside his hole, his coal cellar, his place where he should stay buried, but she was aware that he was full of life and hope and could not be stuffed back down inside ever again. She became aware that, just like her body, or even more so, her soul could not shrink back down again. It had blossomed just as her chest had, and she’d deal with it somehow. She might bind her chest, but she would never bind her identity ever again.
She ignored the cold, though she knew her nose was turning red and running. As long as she didn’t see anyone she knew, it didn’t matter how her face looked, did it? She almost laughed when she thought about how much the way her body looked ran her life. Appearances are everything, maybe—or maybe not.
I wonder if my family would be okay—will be okay—with me when I tell them? But when? Should I wait till I’m eighteen, or am I wasting valuable time that I could be on hormones and stuff? I’m going to start sounding them out; I’ll see what they think about Colin. That’s been all over the news lately. Mr. Jay was really upset. He’s hot. So is his boyfr—husband. Isn’t that just so neat, that they could get married and everything? I wonder if their families gave them a shower? Did one of them wear a dress? She was smiling when she got home and went inside.
Greeting her sisters and mother, she went around smiling. She realized she’d forgotten her books, they were in her bag in the art room. Oh well, no homework tonight! She wondered if Danny would call. She remembered he’d kissed her—her first kiss. He could lose the ten pounds, get contact lenses; so could she for that matter. Of course, she’d have to make some other changes, but that would suit both her and Danny as well. Bye-bye, boobs! She danced a little while carrying the food to the table, but stopped when her father came in the kitchen door, humphing and grunting from the stress of driving home in the snow. When he went into the bathroom, she twirled, thinking, I’ll have a hooteroffame and an addadictome! New surgeries for the win! She had to laugh at herself, even though her mother was giving her ‘that look’.
No, Mom, she thought, I will never have a little girl just like me. Or any other grandchildren for you to love either. Sorry Mom, but that’s just not in my destiny. You have two other—’normal’—daughters to give you grandchildren. If they’re straight, of course. I don’t know about Lisa, she thought, thinking about her eight year old sister who was quite a tomboy already. Nancy yeah, she’s all girl. She’ll have babies before she even gets married, I’ll bet you that. Nancy was fifteen and already had a bigger bust than Whit did. Thank goodness for that. I wonder if Mom and Dad really wanted a boy when I was born? Can that even cause this?
Dinner was ready and they all sat down. Unwisely but eager to test the waters, Whit asked, “Did you read about Colin’s mother saying being trans or gay happens in the womb and was caused by the devil?” There was dead silence.
Lisa added gleefully, “Colin was Whit’s classmate who smeared himself all…” but somehow her elbow got bumped and she stopped. “That’s bull-sh-hockey,” Nancy put in.
“Pass the pork.”
“Stop feeding the dog.”
“Mom, Nancy bumped me!”
“Whit, yes, we all heard that, why are you asking about it? It’s an unpleasant conversation for dinner.” That was her father. All for pleasant, all about the good stuff and only the good stuff. Would he have a fit if he knew?
“So what all did you girls do today?” Dad beamed, waving asparagus around like it was some magical fairy wand. All three of the girls looked at it with muted hatred. Another spear went down below the table to the dog. It turned out that he, Gomez, didn’t like it either, and threw it up later in the potted fern in the living room, where, unfortunately, their black cat, Morticia, was sleeping. Their father had named them, his own name being Carl Addams. Whitney was very grateful that the kids at school knew nothing at all about that old TV show.
Lisa jumped right in. Whit tuned her sister out as the little girl talked with her mouth full, fed the dog while both parents rolled their eyes and pretended not to notice, and combed her fork through her curly brown hair leaving a trail of mashed potatoes down each side. She went on and on about a playground fight, what they’d had for lunch, how she did not actually start the food fight, and told a long, involved, and unfunny joke about Chinese people and what they ate for dinner. Or maybe it was monkeys.
Whit spent the time watching her other sister roll her eyes and scrape at her perfect nail polish. Not really being upset, Whit muttered, “I skipped school, used the boys’ room, and had my first kiss. Oh and I’m trans, just like Colin.” Everyone had stopped talking just in time for her last two words to sound out clearly in the sudden silence.
“What did I say about that topic?” Dad asked, waving his fork in her direction. She noticed him narrowing his eyes, but wasn’t quite sure what that meant. She hedged, “He was in my art class last semester and made some really nice drawings of what he’d look like as a girl. Mr. Jay said they were really good. That’s all.”
“I felt so sorry for them. They were a nice family. We used to go to their church, but it got a little extreme for us. Your friend Beau’s family went there, too. They were friends with Colin’s family. I suppose the boys were pals at school, too. They were all really into all the hymns and stuff though.”
“Beau’s not my friend,” Whit muttered.
“They were too lenient with those kids. That boy…I wouldn’t have wanted any of you girls to date him when you’re older,” her father said. “He was kind of strange even when we knew them, and he was only a little guy then. Wouldn’t play tee-ball, was moody all the time, things like that.” Dad shook his head. “But Beau, well, he’ll be a good catch for some young lady someday.” He beamed at his three daughters.
Whit wanted to throw up, and tell her father what a bully he was, but she didn’t think he’d believe her. Nancy merely raised one delicate eyebrow in distaste.
Dessert came and after that Whit did the dishes, savoring the peace and quiet in the kitchen, wondering if she was better off after all that, or worse. At least she hadn’t said anything about herself. Not that anyone had heard, anyhow. She hoped.
After drying her hands and looking around the kitchen—she took pride in leaving it nice and shiny for her mom—she started down the hall to her room. Passing the living room, she paused when she saw Lisa standing in front of their father, with her bottom lip stuck out. “Daddy,” she said. “Dad? Hello?”
Their father put down the paper—How stereotypical, Whitney thought—and gazed at his youngest, raising his eyebrows. He was a good looking man, for an old guy, Whitney figured. She wondered if she’d look like him if, no, when, she transitioned. Okay then, she thought, but not the bald spot please.
Whitney smiled, well, grimaced almost. Nice thrust, Lisa! She could see their Dad’s bald spot reddening. Served him right.
“But what I need to know, Dad,” Lisa went on, “is if it’s okay that I like the stuff boys like? Because I don’t want to hurt myself, but I want you to love me and be proud of me. I mean, I’ll even paint my nails if you want me to.”
Whit realized she had tears in her eyes. She wondered if her dad did. He should. Lisa shouldn’t have to even think about that sort of thing, let alone ask it. That child, Whit thought, is one blunt kid. She wondered just how much of that hidden message Dad would get, or if he’d just offer to go play catch with Lisa instead.
About an hour later she thought, Oh, I could play catch with her, couldn’t I? She had to laugh at herself over that.
* * * *
Danny was dawdling. He’d had such a great time and felt really good about himself. It was an awesome feeling and he wondered, if he had felt that good just being with Whit/Dusty, why could he not just feel that good by himself? He made a vow to keep his sunshine feeling for as long as he could, because it had come through being his honest self, his hidden reality made visible. Did he have to be seen by someone else to be real? Or was it enough to just be known by himself? What a hard thought! He looked up at the sun’s rays as they wound their way through the stark, black branches of the trees overhead and realized he felt better when he was warm, too, and if he ever wanted to get home before he froze to death out here he’d better—Whoa! Almost didn’t see that car!
The Sun Seekers Page 2