Pride Must Be a Place

by Kevin Craig

  Overall, it’s a huge success. He has the audience’s full attention throughout. Just as he’s wrapping up, Marc gets up to join him at the mic.

  “So, when you hear announcements about the…” he looks to Marc, “Sorry, what’s the name of the club?”

  “The Rainbow Alliance Club,” Marc says into the mic and smiles at his father.

  “When you hear announcements, or see posters advertising events, about the Rainbow Alliance, I want you to stop and think before you roll your eyes and get disgusted at the audacity of the gays. This is not about the gays flaunting it in your faces. This club is about educating us about the fact that sexual preference is such a small part of who we are. Sexuality is simply who we are in the bedroom. We are all people, first and foremost. Get to know one of the LGBTQ people in your social circle or grade. You’ll discover that they’re just like you and me.”

  There’s a sprinkle of giggles as he says the last part.

  “And for the young man, whoever he was, who stage-whispered that glorious insult faggot as I was coming up here to speak…we heard you. We always do. When people whisper insults at us, they come to us as shouts. We hear every one of them. I just want everyone to know that words hurt. They are wounds that never heal. Please think before you hurl.”

  He gives the auditorium a moment to digest this. He’s an expert at the mic.

  Gary then hugs his son. “This is my son. His name is Marc. He is straight. But my husband and I love him anyway. Thank you for listening to this old man. I appreciate your time.”

  This time the audience lifts to its feet as the barrage of applause hits us. Clearly they see in Gary what I see in him. They love him. As they leave the podium, Gary and Marc hug each other. Mr. Tremblay joins them in the hug as the applause continues.

  When they sit down there is no question in my mind that we did the right thing bringing Gary here. It is one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen. For this tiny moment in time, while the applause begins to trail off and people begin to take to their seats, I am happy to be me. For this moment in time, it’s okay to be gay.

  CHAPTER 17

  Days later, I feel like we’re still riding the high of the Gary Assembly, which is what we’ve come to call it. We’ve just lived through Monday at school—never an easy thing to do—and Nettie and I are sitting at Elixir. The plan was that Alex would meet us here.

  Something monumental—according to Alex—happened over the weekend. Alex has been dying to tell us, but we were constantly interrupted by actual real life stuff. Like school.

  Judging by his excitement I was sure he’d be here when we arrived, but it’s been almost ten minutes now and still no Alex. We’re sipping our lattes and getting impatient, hoping they don’t accuse us of loitering and make us buy a second latte. They have this time limit rule here, that they almost never enforce. When someone needs a power trip or something, though, they pull out the rule and it gets ugly.

  “So, aren’t you going to speculate what it is this time?” Nettie asks. She asks this question because, with Alex, it’s always something.

  “He probably broke a nail or lost a false eyelash or something.”

  “You’re so catty.” She takes a sip of her cinnamon dolce and we both laugh. “I have homework. History. Want to come to my place after this and we can do homework together?”

  “You leave me no choice but to say yes. That’s such a hot offer, I’d be crazy not to take you up on it.”

  “Ha ha,” she says. She looks up as the bells on the door do a jingle. “What do you know? The Alex graces us with his presence.”

  He saunters to the table, pulls out a chair and slowly melts into it. I give him an eight on his entrance, but the Russian judges aren’t so easy on him. They give him a three for repetition. He’s done this one before. He’s done them all before.

  “Ezra,” he says. He appears at the end of his rope. His long face makes a wordless plea for sympathy. “Please, be a dear and get Mommy a chai latte. She’s parched beyond measure. Please, now. Run along, sweetie. Mommy thirsts.”

  Despite the ridiculousness of his plea, despite the fact that he owes me a gazillion lattes by now, I push my chair out and stand up. I roll my eyes at him and call him a dandy, but this only makes him happy.

  “I’ll be right back,” I say as I head for the counter to place his order. “But this better be a good story, Alex. Or heads will roll.”

  I hear him say something dirty about head to Nettie as I leave them behind.

  “Here’s your latte, Miss Thing,” I say as I put it down in front of him. “Now, deliver. What gives? What were you driving us crazy with all day that you need to tell us about but couldn’t tell us about those other two dozen times you tried? Why the madness?”

  “Simmer down, Ezra,” Alex says. “You exaggerate slightly and you know it.”

  We all laugh at this, because pot, kettle. Alex is the only person in the world who can exaggerate about exaggerating. He’s a pro.

  “Sit, sit,” he says to me. I take the same seat I had prior to getting up to wait on him. It’s funny, he’s always able to manipulate us into buying him coffee with just a few words.

  “Okay, shoot, dude,” Nettie says, between sips. “I’m dying to hear the gossip.” But she says this with full-on tedium, just to tick him off.

  “You act like that, now,” Alex says, “In a minute I’m going to have to call the fire department to get the jaws of life to close your gaping maw, lady.”

  “What the hell does that even mean, idiot,” I say to Alex. “Just tell us, okay? We’re not getting any younger waiting.”

  “Okay,” he says, “But first off, I don’t want any dirty looks, any judgements, any looks of disgust or any ridicule. Comprende?”

  “Gotcha,” Nettie says. He looks to me and I simply nod, growing weary of the lead up to his news. I just know it’s going to be nothing big, a letdown.

  “Remember how you caught me on that hook-up app, Ezra?” he asks. My first impulse is to roll my eyes, so I do. But as I open my mouth to begin lecturing him, he says, “Ut, tut, tut. No Judgey McJudgerson. You agreed. Shut up and hear me out.

  “So, I met this guy on Rub and agreed to meet up with him.”

  I am now staring directly into Nettie’s eyes and inside my head I am screaming my face off and I can tell she’s doing exactly the same thing. Our eyes are locked, because we both know that if we turn this power onto Alex our looks would kill him. Because, you know, looks can kill.

  “Ooh,” he says, poking at us, “you’re both doing so well hiding your disgust. Anyway, so I agreed to meet this guy last night. On a Sunday, no less. How shameful is that. Ha.

  “So there I am, standing on the corner of Queen and Mercy, waiting for Mr. Right,” he continues. He turns to me. “And mercy me, but you know I’m a queen.”

  He knows I absolutely hate it when he resorts to stereotypes. I think that’s the reason he tries his hardest to be a walking talking stereotype.

  “Okay, okay,” I say. “Move along, Alex. I’m getting bored here.”

  “Yeah, yeah. So this black BMW pulls up. Honey, I’m not talking car. It’s too big to be a car. You know me and my vehicles. I never know what they’re called, but I saw the BMW thingy on the hood and it was a honking big SUV.”

  Alex rubs his fingers together, displaying his knowledge of the international symbol for money, rich, extravagance, etc. As though this guy was looking for anything more than a fling and Alex had actually just discovered his Mr. Right. So sad. Daddy issues. Hello.

  “The passenger window rolls down and this hunk of a man leans over from the driver seat and asks…wait for it… Sidney? I was like, ‘That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.’ And he sneers and says, all manly like, Get in.”

  “This is getting ugly. Is there a story in here somewhere that we would be interested in? I don’t want to sit here only to find out we’re listening to the story of Alex’s latest conquest,” Nettie says. She sounds calm, bu
t she’s about to get up and leave him stranded. As am I. “And P.S. and FYI, Sidney? Ew.”

  “It’s a luscious name, jealous.”

  “It’s a weird choice,” I say. “I agree with Nettie. Ew.”

  “Haters gonna hate,” he says.

  “Can we just get to the reveal, Alex,” I say. “I don’t want to hear about your escapades with older men. I should be taking notes so I can report it to the police later.”

  “I’m legal, bitch,” he says. Because that’s all he gets out of what I say. Ack. “Anyway, because you’re both bitches I’ll fast-forward a bit.

  “So we’re at this hotel. This swanky diva hotel where they park your car for you and ask no questions. Anyways, we so could have passed for father and son.”

  “Ew, ew, ew. Stop talking.” Nettie pretends to spit out a mouthful of latte in disgust.

  “Yeah, yeah. Okay, I’ll fast forward even further. To the meat of the story. No, not the sex. I know you don’t want to hear about how fabulous that was. But let me just tell you it was kind of perfect. Yes, Ezra, I used a rubber. I’m not stupid.

  “So we had just finished and dude practically sprints to the bathroom to jump into the shower. I tell you, once he got off of me he couldn’t wait to get me off of him. If you know what I mean.

  “You know me, Ez,” he continues. He kind of has our full attention now. He’s working us. “I’m the original snoop. While ‘Paul’ was busy scrubbing away the evidence, I took a little trip through his pants. I checked out his pockets and went through his wallet, etc., etc., etc.”

  He stops here. He’s in his glory. He has a solid piece of gossip to dish out to us and he’s hanging onto that last reveal.

  “Okay, give,” I say. I have to admit, I’m on the edge of my seat now. “Tell us what the scoop is, Perez Hilton. I can’t wait another second.”

  “Aha!” he says. “I knew I had you at BMW, bitch. Well here it is.”

  He takes a sip of his neglected latte to keep us waiting. Then he picks up his phone and starts to go through it, as though he’s looking for something. As though he doesn’t know exactly what it is he’s looking for. He lets out a couple let’s sees and where was thats?

  “Jesus, Alex,” Nettie says. “Just give already. What the hell?”

  And then he has his moment. He looks over the top of his phone at us and he’s wearing a shit-eating grin. “Aha,” he says, “Found it.”

  He drops the phone down on the table in front of us.

  On the screen, there’s a picture. Of an open wallet with a man’s driver’s license showing. And in full Alex style, there’s a pair of men’s underwear draped across the other side of the splayed wallet.

  This would be scandalous no matter what. Alex is a pig. I hate that I have to even know about his Rub escapades. I want to kill him for using the app in the first place. It’s for men, not boys.

  But the man’s name on the driver’s license is enough to make me choke on the swill of latte I just took. Literally.

  William Severe.

  “Oh my god!” Nettie says while I busily wipe latte from my chin. “Alex, you have got to be shitting me? Do you think…is it possible that he’s…holy shit.”

  “Holy shit is right, dearie,” Alex says. “I thought the cutie looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place him. Until I saw his name.”

  I say nothing. I pick up the phone and swipe the screen to bring the brightness back. I stare at the middle-aged version of Will Severe. I am too shocked to say anything.

  “Ezra, dear,” Alex says, “you might want to pick your jaw up off the floor. That look is so unbecoming.”

  “Oh. My. God,” I say. “This can’t be. Do you know what this means? Alex. You can’t tell anyone about this.”

  “Like hell I can’t,” he says, all indignant that I would even suggest his silence on the matter. “Next time that little rat bastard so much as touches me…strike that. Next time that bitch looks at me the wrong way, I’m going to burst his All-Star Mr. Popular bubble in one foul swoop.”

  “Fell swoop, moron,” Nettie corrects him. But he’s not finished, and he doesn’t really care about getting details right when he’s using metaphors, similes, or cliché.

  “He’s a sitting duck and I’m pulling this puppy out at my first opportunity,” Alex says. He grabs his phone from my hand as though he doesn’t trust me with the evidence all of a sudden.

  “Alex,” I begin. “Look at me.” He does, but he’s not really there. He’s already imagined a hundred thousand ways he can use that picture to crush Will Severe. Junior, that is. “You absolutely can’t do this. This is far beyond anything he’s ever done to you. This information is going to destroy his whole life. My dad is actually friends with that man. The guy’s frigging married. What a piece of garbage.”

  “Hey,” Alex says, insulted. “He could have had worse. Don’t make it sound like—”

  “Jesus, Alex. Change the channel. For once, this isn’t fully about you. It’s not always the Alex Mills show. The man’s a bastard. Take yourself out of the picture for a minute. It doesn’t matter who he did it with, he fooled around on his wife. His marriage is a sham. He has kids. Their lives are going to be in shambles as soon as anyone sees that picture.”

  Alex stands up and his chair falls over, slamming on the floor. “Do you think I give a flying duck’s dinner what happens to either of these two people?” he kind of but not really whispers to me. “Are you for real right now, Ezra? Don’t you think it’s already crossed my mind what the implications are? Of course he’s a pig. Of course it’s going to kill Will. That’s the whole point. This guy’s been on my case since the beginning of high school. Kicking, punching, pushing, bullying, calling me names at every turn. I’m going to hold off hurting him? Why, now?”

  Everyone’s looking over at our table now. I just hope nobody knows who we’re talking about, because I’m pretty sure they figured out what we’re talking about. If they were only listening to half of it, with one ear, they still know it’s a scandal. Thank God he lowered his voice a bit.

  “I’m out of here,” I say. I stand up and brush past Alex, who appears too infuriated to move a muscle. “I’m begging you to hold onto it, okay. Just, let’s see what happens with the club. Please, if he calms down…consider burying that disgusting thing. Why the hell did you have to be such a slut in the first place! No one your age should be on that app.”

  His mouth is agape, but I storm out of Elixir before he can respond. And once I’m outside, I just keep running. I don’t think I’ve ever been more freaked out. I can’t even pinpoint what I’m feeling. It’s not just anger and it’s not just fear. It’s just a whole lot of ugly to deal with.

  And, yes, I’m furious that I’m suddenly feeling a shitload of sympathy for Will Severe. Believe me, he’s never done anything to warrant my sympathy. But he has all of it right now. All of it and then some. I just can’t imagine how much this is going to destroy his universe. I just keep running, knowing eventually I’ll get home. My dad may be a bit of a monster sometimes, but he’s consistent. I know what to expect. He’s not out there schtooping my friends behind Mom’s back.

  CHAPTER 18

  Okay, I’m just going to say it. I have not been myself for days now. This thing with Alex and Will’s dad is killing me. I don’t even know why it’s affected me so deeply. It’s tearing me up. I haven’t slept well, I haven’t felt like eating. I feel so helpless. And I know Alex. He’s going to destroy Will. I keep waiting for it to happen, but I don’t feel any relief when another day goes by that it doesn’t happen. It just stresses me out more.

  It’s been almost a week and I’m delirious with worry. Nettie told me I needed a movie, and that she’s not taking no for an answer. She said it’ll take my mind off things, but you can’t take your mind off a ticking time-bomb. It just doesn’t work that way. It keeps on ticking.

  We’re at the theatre and she’s in line to get the tickets. I’m not even sure what movie it is. A co
medy. That much, I know. I picked up some popcorn, which I don’t feel like eating, and I’m sitting in the mini food-court place outside the mini arcade place in the entrance to the theatre. And I’m in a daze.

  As Nettie approaches the table, she smiles. But it’s halfhearted. She’s tired of trying. Quite frankly, I’m tired of her trying too. It would be easier if she would just let me wallow. Hell, it might even be better if she was here wallowing with me.

  “Okay,” she says as she sits down and scoops up a handful of ‘buttered’ popcorn. “The movie starts at two-thirty. We have an hour and a half. Whatcha wanna talk about?”

  “What?” I ask incredulously. “You couldn’t find anything that started sooner? Nettie. Jesus. I don’t even want to be here.”

  “Which is why you need to be here. I didn’t think the movie about adultery or the movie about jilted exes would be wise, and the only other one was an action movie. So it’s this comedy or none.”

  “Ack,” I mumble as I eat a few kernels of popcorn, which I hate, by the way. She knows how much I despise action movies, so I’m grateful for having dodged that bullet, at least.

  “Yeah, ack,” she says. She’s waiting so patiently for me to come out of it. But I just don’t know how to process this. I can’t stop Alex. Nobody can stop Alex, ever.

  “Hey.” I don’t look up to see who says it. I’m in a pout and eating disgusting wet yellow popcorn. And I want to die.

  “Oh, hey there,” Nettie says. Then there’s only silence.

  I close my eyes. An hour and a freaking half. I could easily melt down into this chair and disappear. Now I’m angry at Alex and Nettie. Her particular brand of medicine for what ails me appears to be more torture. I hate her.

  “Hey,” I hear again. I open my eyes and I feel the shadow of someone looming over me.

  “Oh. Me?” I say when I look up and see this guy standing there. “Sorry. Hey.”

  “Simon. Hinkley,” he says. I try to register this. His name. “And you are?”