I turned to him. We stood in muted shadow, the streetlight half a block away. Everything had a tinge of unreality imparted by dark skies and indistinct edges. Was this real? Kevin and me facing each other? If Kevin had his way, this was how we’d always be: going to plays together, supporting his daughter together, leaving together and weaving a shared life we could call our own… but also out in the open, subject to scorn and attack.
I’d given up any prospect of a shared life with anybody the day I’d awakened in the hospital. The danger had always loomed too high; I would not risk a repetition of what Sean and the others had done to me. And yet… here was Kevin, tempting me.
Nothing seemed clear except that I needed to apologize.
“I’m sorry I didn’t pick up when you called,” I said. “I should have called you back.”
Kevin searched my face. “I wish you had. I was really worried about you.”
“I’m sorry about that too. I never meant for you to—”
“Tom, stop that,” he interrupted me. “Of course I’m going to worry about you. It comes with the territory.”
That did stop me. I’d stupidly fretted about him driving home on Thursday night and upending his truck in a ditch, hadn’t I?
“Listen,” Kevin said. “I’ve got my own apologies. Since we’re not fighting now, will you listen to me? Please?”
“You don’t have to ask. Of course I’ll listen.”
“I said this before, but I want you to hear me. Really hear me, okay? For the third time, I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you Channing knew about me. I’ll admit that I was afraid I’d scare you off if I did, but I should have counted on your own strength.”
“And on how I feel about you,” I said quietly.
He took a step closer. A dried leaf crunched underfoot. “Should I have counted on that?” he asked in a whisper.
We were too close to each other. The truth of how I felt about Kevin rose up in one huge, complicated rush. “Yes,” I told him.
He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again there was more of the old Kevin there, from before I’d turned away from him. “Do we still have a chance?”
Everything in me wanted to say, “Yes!” To scream yes, to break away from my old fears and go with him. But I just wasn’t sure I could do it.
Maybe he saw the hesitation in me, because right away he said, “No, don’t answer that. I have something else that’s been really bothering me that I need to say to you, okay?” He ran a hand through his hair, that gesture that I’d grown accustomed to from him. “Back at my house, remember the porn we watched?” He quickly looked around, but nobody was close to us. His voice quieted until I could barely hear him, and he kept his gaze down to the street. “There was that scene, that one where…. One guy was taking it in the mouth. And I said….” Kevin swallowed audibly. “I said I really wanted to do that to you.”
He looked up to me again. “You hadn’t told me about what had happened to you then, so I didn’t know how you must have felt when I said that. It must have been…. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…. Tom, you’ve got to know I would never want to hurt—”
“Mr. Smith!”
Two girls came racing toward us from the social hall but I barely noticed. What Kevin had said reverberated as loudly as a thunderclap inside me, and I couldn’t pay attention to anything else but my astonished thoughts.
I hadn’t associated Sean with that scene in the movie. I’d wanted Kevin to fuck my mouth. Nothing else had mattered to me but him.
“What do you need, girls?” Kevin asked when I remained silent.
“The play!” one girl said. “You don’t want to miss it! Everybody’s going back in.” She bounced like a puppy and waved toward the doors. “Come on.”
Kevin glanced at me and said, “Of course. Mr. Smith wouldn’t want to miss the play when he’s worked so hard on it, and my daughter would have my head if I skipped a second of it. Come on, Mr. Smith, let’s go.”
This time he led the way. I followed, still thinking furiously about what he’d said as we walked inside, through the settling crowd, and to our seats. I scarcely paid attention when the kids began “Seasons of Love.” I was caught in my own personal wonder.
When Kevin had said that he wanted to fuck my mouth the same way the actors in the porn DVD were going at it, I hadn’t thought of Sean’s attack at all. Not for one second. Kneeling before Kevin and opening for him, letting him shove it in and take what he wanted from me… that had turned me on. I’d wanted to do that with him. I still did. Sean hadn’t been there in Kevin’s house that day with me. Only Kevin had.
Warmth spread through my gut. My God. Only Kevin had mattered.
On the stage, Angel was dying, and Collins was remembering their love, but I was suddenly realizing how different a man I was now than the just-graduated victim Sean had left in the wake of the attack. I’d lived hard years since then, and maybe some of what I’d done here in Gunning had been a mistake, but from where I sat it all seemed necessary.
I really had been healing, just like I’d told Grant. Maybe not consciously, but I must have been. Otherwise I wouldn’t have had sex with Kevin in Houston a second time. I wouldn’t have wanted Kevin to take my mouth without immediately relating it to Sean. And I wouldn’t have finally been able to tell out loud what had been done to me and to spend the past week coming to terms with it.
Maybe I was… healed enough for Kevin.
Rent swirled around and over me, in front of me and through me. Scenes I’d helped create, songs I’d helped shape, lines that I’d helped make clear suddenly became a part of the whole, when before they’d been separate, meaningless, and without context.
Mark and Roger began singing “What You Own.” Roger had left New York for Santa Fe, and there he was at last finding his muse and writing that one song he longed to compose. Mark turned down the TV job that had kept him away from his own film project and vowed to devote himself to his own vision. They were each uncertain, groping for answers, and the world kept batting them down, but they were trying their best to build the lives they could see for themselves. Wasn’t that what Rent was about? I’d let Sean bury the life I’d wanted, and I’d crafted a poor substitute for it. But now I’d changed.
What did I really want?
Act two seemed to zoom by in about five minutes. Soon the kids had sung their way almost to the end. It was Christmas again, and a full year had gone by from the first scene. Mark was ready to show his film, Roger was back in New York and had completed his song for Mimi, but Mimi couldn’t be found. Collins showed up with lots of cash, hijacked from an ATM he’d reprogrammed to disgorge it to anyone using the password “Angel.”
Maureen and Joanne arrived, supporting a near-death Mimi, whose heroin addiction was about to claim her. She seemed to die as Roger sang “Your Eyes” to her, but then she suddenly revived. “I was heading for this warm, white light,” Mimi said. “And I swear, Angel was there. And she looked good! And she said, ‘Turn around, girlfriend, and listen to that boy’s song’.”
And then all the main actors, and the supporting ones, too, came off their stools, faced the audience with linked hands, and began to sing the finale for the show.
“Will I lose my dignity,” they sang, and their voices soared. I could hear Channing loud and clear, and Marie, and Johnny and Sarah and all of them, separate and together, and wasn’t that the best way to live? “Will someone care? Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?”
The girls sang different lyrics than the boys did, the words weaving in and out, creating beautiful interlocking and yet distinct melodies. But I knew all the words, even if they hadn’t had much meaning for me before. I’d memorized them over the months that had started with me arguing with George in the school hallway, that had grown as I’d climbed Enchanted Rock with Kevin, as I’d relived the agony of being attacked, and as I finally came to… this day.
“The hand gropes, the ear hears, the pulse beats, life goes on,” th
e girls sang, but it was the boys I heard best. “There’s only now, there’s only here,” they sang, and I saw that Robbie, the different one, stood between Steven and Preston. They sang this first time, this final time together, telling the message that Rent had to give and that each of them had learned.
I had never been so proud in my life. Or so moved. I’d helped create this.
“Give in to love or live in fear. No other path. No other way.”
“I die without you,” the girls told us.
“No day but today,” the boys proclaimed.
At last the girls’ and the boys’ lyrics merged, and the sound they made filled the hall. Everybody around us was on their feet already. I was on my feet, although I hadn’t known it.
“No day but today.”
The voices rose, blended, made sweet beauty for one last note, and then Rent was over.
THE CROWD kept the kids on the stage for what seemed like a very long time as they applauded as enthusiastically as if they had been privileged to watch a Broadway hit. All the actors and the crew who had helped out, and definitely the pianist, took bows. Robbie was flushed bright red, and Channing’s smile glowed.
“Bravo!” someone shouted.
“Bravo!” agreed Sandy Patterson next to me, and plenty of other people let loose with the same. I wondered if Hiram were shouting, or Mayfield.
“Those idiots,” Kevin growled next to me. “We could have had six performances like this. Idiots!”
Finally Johnny Robinson stepped forward and made calming-down motions with his hands. “Thank you, everybody, for your support. We have a special presentation to make.” Marie and Channing ran back into the kitchen. “We’d like to thank our director, Mr. George Keating, for all his hard work, his inspiration, and his help to us every day of rehearsal.”
The girls came back out carrying an enormous bouquet of flowers.
“Mr. Keating, would you come forward please?” Johnny asked, very formally.
I’d never seen George look bashful before, but he did then. The girls thrust the flowers into his hands, and he looked like he didn’t quite know what to do with them.
“Everybody….” Johnny said to the cast. “Now.”
“Thanks, Mr. Keating!” they all shouted.
“And we’ve got a little something extra for you. Here.” Johnny tried to give George an envelope, but he had a hard time taking it with his hands already full.
“Jenny,” he plaintively asked, “would you come get these?”
The audience laughed, Jenny took the bouquet, and George was able to open the gift.
“From the cast and crew of Rent,” he read aloud. “With thanks for the memories.” Then he turned his head to see what else had come in the card. He looked up, startled. “I can’t take this!”
“Sure you can,” Kevin said from where he was standing next to me. “You’ve earned it. Enjoy it.”
“Well….” He tucked whatever it was back in the card. “Thank you, everybody.”
Johnny stepped forward again. “And we’d also like to thank our assistant director, Mr. Thomas Smith, for his hard work and dedication and help. And the art director Miss Tiffany Davis, who worked hard on the scenery, even though we didn’t get to see it tonight. And all the parent volunteers too. Everybody… now.”
“Thank you!” the kids yelled in chorus.
“Thanks for coming, everybody,” Johnny finished with. “Good night!”
The kids waved from the stage, and then they were mobbed as family and friends rushed up to them.
I stayed back and watched it all with the strangest feeling in my chest. The high from the last song lingered; I could still hear the kids singing together. I had no one to share the moment with, because that’s how things were with me, but I could still smile to see Kevin and Julianne fussing over Channing, and Mr. and Mrs. Sutton beaming as Steven’s mom took a picture of them with Robbie, and George receiving congratulations like a seasoned impresario. Everybody was happy. I was too.
“Mr. Smith?” Johnny had come from the stage area to me.
“You were wonderful,” I told him. “You all did so well. I’m very proud of you.”
“Thanks. We got you a little something too. Here it is.”
He offered me an envelope and then said, “Channing said you wouldn’t want any flowers or fuss. Girls usually know about those things, so we went along with her. Hope that was okay.”
I had a little trouble getting out, “That’s fine. Thanks.” I guess I hadn’t needed to ask her to keep quiet about her dad and me after all.
“Well, aren’t you going to open it?” Danielle asked. Somehow she and Kevin were back from the stage, and a few of the kids were too.
“You really didn’t have to get me anything,” I said as I slipped my finger under the flap.
“Oh, yes we did,” Steven assured me.
Inside was what had been on the card for George, handwritten: “From the cast and crew of Rent. With thanks for the memories.” It looked like everybody had signed it and left small notes.
The card also held a Visa gift card for two hundred and fifty dollars. I was shocked. “You can’t do this,” I said to everybody. “There are rules about teachers accepting gifts.”
“Already cleared with the school board,” Kevin said briskly. “The parents all wanted you to have that, so accept it with grace.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed out loud. Grace hadn’t exactly been in my vocabulary the last little while.
I thanked everybody around me, but nobody wanted to accept much credit. All the students slipped away; they went to stand by the door where people were exiting. I couldn’t blame them. That way they got to thank the audience for coming and the audience got the chance to tell them how great they’d been.
Soon the only people left in the hall were the cast and crew and those most closely connected with them. George came bounding toward us from where he’d stood at the doors too, and he called, “Cast and crew of Rent, gather ’round!”
The kids came back to the stage, which still had the stools pushed back against the kitchen wall, and circled George. The rest of us stood back and listened.
He put his arms around the shoulders of Preston and Marie, who were standing to either side of him. “I can’t tell you all how very, very proud I am of you,” George started. “You gave an excellent performance under difficult circumstances. Who came up with the idea of sitting on the stools and moving them with each scene?”
Sam raised his hand. “Me! I saw something like it on PBS.”
“It worked very well. The cuts you made, the transitions you provided, the way you acted while you were singing even though you couldn’t move….” He lifted his shoulders. “What can I say? It worked.
“But more importantly, you accomplished this together. You didn’t have parents holding your hands or teachers smoothing the way for you. We had the show canceled by the board, and that was a blow, but you didn’t let that keep you down. As you could see from the reaction of the crowd tonight, they respected you for just putting the show on, as well as for your performances.”
He looked around the circle, slowly, starting with Preston and moving on to Sam and Sarah, and then all the way around until he ended with Marie next to him. “Very well done, all of you. I’m immensely proud of you.”
Everybody clapped, including me and Kevin, who was standing next to me again.
George looked over the kids’ heads and said, “Mr. Smith? Would you like to say a few words to the cast and crew?”
For a moment I hesitated. I shouldn’t say anything, should I? I should let everybody go home to some well-deserved rest and celebration. I should keep my mouth shut and retreat the way I’d always retreated.
“Yes,” I said. “I would.”
I left Kevin’s side and went into the circle the kids made, deliberately standing next to Robbie, who was next to Steven. Those two were together all the time, weren’t they?
“You two wer
e very brave,” I said, and everybody heard me. “I’m proud that you kissed at the end of your song.” Then I addressed Channing. “And you and Marie too.”
I included everybody in what I had to say next. “I didn’t always feel that way, did you know? Mr. Keating and I had some heated discussions about those kisses. He was always for them, but I was very concerned that they would cause problems. I guess I won that round, though I wish I hadn’t.
“As a matter of fact, I’ll confess something else. I wasn’t enthusiastic about Rent at the beginning. I only agreed to work on it because Mr. Keating asked me to, and because the committee wouldn’t let the play go on without me being there to help.”
Murmurs of dismay rippled through the group. George looked as if he was afraid of what I’d reveal next.
“But a funny thing happened as soon as we got started. Good things began to happen to me. The world doesn’t have enough good things, so I… appreciated them.”
Kevin on the golf course, being proud of my putting. The long, slow, and surprisingly painless slide of his cock into me. Pulling him close and dancing with him in the cabin. His tears against my neck as he cried for me.
And there he was, standing behind Sam, watching me with the hint of a smile, with a sort of intent pride—for me—that I wanted him to have all the time. If I didn’t have much to offer him yet… that could change, couldn’t it?
“Some not-so-good things happened too. You all know about that. You’ve seen how the give and take of an open society works, I guess.” I shrugged. “And at least you’ve been to your first school board meeting.”
“My last one!” Preston mock-growled. Everybody laughed.
I waited until they quieted and I had their attention again before I continued. “But what I wanted to say is that… I learned from this play. I think you have too. There are still plenty of people in this town who are dead set against what you did tonight. This performance didn’t change that. You knew people were against you, but you believed in what Rent has to say and in the friendships you’ve made during rehearsal. You wanted it to come alive at least one time. You didn’t know that anybody would show up to see you tonight except your families, but still you did it.”
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