Deciding that the only thing I can do is on a personal level, I stand up and walk out of the theater. Okay, I’m sure that my decision to boycott a sleazy film after paying to see it isn’t going to change the world, but it might change me. I stand out in the lobby, waiting to see if Mitch is going to come out and join me here. But then I suspect he thinks I’m using the ladies’ room, so I go and sit down on a bench by the door and just wait. I mean wouldn’t he get concerned after, say, twenty minutes have passed and I haven’t returned? What if I was seriously ill? Or if I’d been kidnapped? Finally, in complete frustration, I call my mom.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “But you’ve always told me that if I get into a situation where I feel uncomfortable, I’m supposed to call you.”
“Of course,” she says.
Then I briefly explain what’s going on and she says she’ll be here in a few minutes. In the meantime, I call Mitch’s cell phone, which is turned off, and inform him of my whereabouts and not to bother calling since I won’t be answering.
On my way home with Mom, I tell her about the hospital scene and Channel Four News. “It’ll probably be on again at eleven.”
She kind of laughs. “Actually, Rob from work already called and said he thought he’d seen you on TV.”
“What else did he say?”
“That it wasn’t good, and that he was shocked, and that I needed to have a talk with you.”
“Go ahead,” I tell her. “Take your best shot.”
“No, I think you’ve explained it, Ramie. I just don’t see how Channel Four thinks they can get away with something like that. Did you sign a release form?”
“No,” I say suddenly. “Laura threw some papers on a table, but things got crazy and we had to leave. I never signed one. Neither did BJ.”
“Then you guys might want to give Channel Four a call. Tell them that you’re talking to your attorney about defamation of character.” She laughs as she pulls into our driveway. “That might get their attention.”
“Or, at least it might get them to retract what they said today.” I glance at my watch to see that it’s getting close to eleven now. “But not in time to miss the news tonight.”
We hurry into the house, where I’m forced to watch the horror story all over again. And Mom even records it. “Just in case we need evidence,” she tells me. “Or if you want to think about a career on TV. you actually look pretty good, Ramie. The color of your sweatshirt really complements your skin tone.”
“Thanks,” I say in a flat tone. “I’m sure I’ll want to watch this piece again and again.”
The funny thing is that I do watch it again. But this time I pray first, and I ask God to help me to watch the whole report with an open mind. I do fast-forward through some of the overblown snippets and out-of-context comments. But I listen carefully as Laura Myers wraps up her piece by giving some alarming statistics.
“According to one survey, one out of two homosexual youths will endure verbal abuse, and 16 percent will suffer physical assault. But perhaps one of the most shocking discoveries of this study is that our public schools are the most dangerous place for homosexuals. Seventy-four percent of the reported gay bashing occurred in elementary and middle schools, but that figure rises to an alarming 89 percent in high schools. What happened to Joey Pinckney this week was wrong and tragic, but it’s also a warning to everyone. Until school officials begin to enforce a zero-tolerance approach that protects all students from hate crimes and acts of discrimination, no one will be safe. This issue is no longer simply one of sexual morality, it’s about the schools’ responsibility to ensure the health and safety of the students under their supervision.”
As I turn off the TV, I think maybe she’s right. Okay, maybe she didn’t get all her facts straight, and I’m not too pleased with how she portrayed BJ and me, but in some ways she was able to say what I’ve been trying to say (to people like Coach Ackley and some of my teammates) and maybe somebody will actually listen to her.
nineteen
I’M ONLY MILDLY SURPRISED WHEN MITCH DOESN’T CALL ME THE NEXT DAY. I can’t remember exactly what I said to him, but I’m sure I must’ve sounded angry. Maybe even a little neurotic. Whatever. Right now I have other things to obsess over.
Nathan called both BJ and me. First he apologized for not being able to get Laura Myers straightened out before the news hit the airwaves. But then I told him about how, despite being publicly humiliated like that, I thought Laura actually made some good points.
“I’m glad you could see that,” he says. “That’s why I want you and BJ to be on our panel.”
“Panel?”
“Yes, I already spoke to Pastor Bryant about having an event at the church. It would be a way to bring the problem of homosexuality to the open forum. And he agreed. We’ve decided to have it on Saturday, December 29. Jeanie, the church secretary, is handling publicity. I’ve already called Laura Myers at Channel Four. I explained that we’ll have a discussion panel and that we plan to openly discuss gay issues and concerns. We’re calling it Christianity Meets Homosexuality.” He kind of laughs. “That should get some attention. Anyway, it sounds like Channel Four will cover it, and I’m sure the church will be packed.”
“Wow. That should be interesting.”
“I’ve also asked Jess to participate, along with some of her gay-alliance pals.”
“Did she agree?”
“She said she’d think about it.”
“Maybe you could have Joey Pinckney on the panel too,” I suggest.
“That’s a fantastic idea, Ramie. Do you want to ask him?”
“I, uh, I don’t know.”
“But you’re willing to participate?”
“Yeah, sure. I guess.” Okay, I’m thinking this could be scary.
“And I like your idea about Joey. Pray about asking him. Hearing Joey’s experience would be a great opportunity.”
I want to ask, “Opportunity for what?” but BJ is outside honking for me. “I’ve got to go to practice,” I tell Nathan. “Thanks for getting this thing together.”
“I’m so glad I don’t have to go to practice alone,” I tell BJ as she drives toward the school.
“Yeah. Me too.”
“After the way the news made us look last night, it’d be easy to just go hide under a rock.”
“I told Nathan pretty much the same thing this morning when he called about the forum. He said we should think of this as our chance to be clowns for God.”
I force a laugh. “Yeah, right. That sounds like a barrel of fun.”
“But it did give me an idea,” she says. “I thought maybe if we go in there today with some kind of a battle plan, maybe it would be easier.”
“You have something in mind?”
“Well, you know what’s going to happen. Everyone’s going to be pointing the finger at us, making fun of us, calling us hypocrites. you know, the basic juvenile MO.”
“I know.”
“How about if we make a pact right now that we will not say a single word back to them. Not one word to any of them in response to any of this. We’ll just give them these blank looks but not a word.”
I consider this. “It’s an interesting idea, BJ. And it would be a good test of self-control for me, since I tend to shoot off my mouth pretty easily. But what do you think it will accomplish?”
“First of all, it’ll give them a chance to get it all out there. Plus they’ll probably end up saying some stupid stuff and maybe even feel bad for it later. But mostly, when we know we have their attention, like maybe after practice in the locker room, we can ask them if they want to know the real story—you know, what really happened.”
“Aha.”
“And then we’ll tell them.”
“But what if Jess is there? And what if she denies our story? And what if it turns into a big ugly brouhaha?”
BJ sighs. “If Jess does something like that . . . well, I think it means she’s really changed. And maybe it me
ans we can’t trust her anymore. But hopefully that won’t be the case.”
I decide it’s worth a try. “Besides,” I tell BJ, “I think it’ll be a relief to keep my mouth shut for a change.”
“Yeah, maybe we can just focus on practice and improving our game.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” I tighten the Velcro on my wrist guard. I’m supposed to wear this thing for the whole season to ensure that I don’t reinjure my wrist. But it really would be cool to just focus on playing basketball again—to forget about all this obnoxious stuff that just doesn’t seem to want to go away.
I feel partly relieved and partly concerned when Jess doesn’t show for practice today. And after silently enduring a bunch of stupid and snide comments about our news debut, pretty much as we predicted, the players seem to settle into a routine practice. Even the scrimmage seems to be pretty normal. But once we’re back in the locker room, the comments about BJ and me on the news start flowing again. Still, we’re keeping our mouths shut, just ignoring everyone as we get dressed.
“What’s with you two?” Lauren finally asks. “Did you guys have a lobotomy or something?”
“Yeah,” says Amy. “It’s like return of the zombie girls. What’s up?”
“You really want to know?” says BJ, and everyone gets pretty quiet.
“Yeah,” yells Kara from the other side of the room. “What kind of game are you two playing anyway?”
“We’ll only tell you if you’ll listen,” says BJ. And to my relief, she quickly summarizes what really happened at the hospital.
“Yeah,” says Lauren, “I thought that was kind of weird that they were saying that Joey was the victim of a hate crime when we’d already heard it was a suicide attempt.”
“What a setup,” says Amy. “I can’t believe you guys got yourselves into something so dumb.”
“Would it have been better to have just ignored the whole thing?” I ask, remembering the advice that Mitch gave me. “Should we all be like ostriches and stick our heads in the ground?”
“Might be better than getting your head bit off,” says Amy.
“Or being part of some gay-alliance scam,” adds Kara. “I can’t believe they want to cover up that Joey tried to kill himself, calling it a hate crime. What a bunch of jerks.”
“If it was a hate crime, it’s probably because Joey hated himself,” says Kelsey. “Can’t blame him there.”
“See!” I point at her. “That’s just it. That’s why we have this kind of problem in the first place.”
“Huh?” Kelsey glares at me as she pulls on her jeans. “What are you talking about?”
“Maybe they’re right,” I say. “Maybe Joey’s suicide really is the result of a hate crime. I mean, isn’t it possible that someone really did do something to him, something humiliating or embarrassing or hurtful? We see and hear stuff like that all the time at school. Didn’t you hear those statistics on the news last night? Laura Myers said public school was the most dangerous place for homosexuals. Doesn’t it make you guys feel bad?”
“If that’s true,” says Lauren, “if something did happen to Joey, something that made him want to kill himself, maybe it really would be considered a hate crime. I heard about a girl who got bullied so badly, at school and through e-mail, that she finally did kill herself. And she left a note saying why. And now her parents are pressing murder charges against the other girls.”
“I wonder if Joey’s parents could press charges?” says BJ as she ties her shoes.
“I guess that makes sense,” says Amy. “I have heard that homosexuals have a really high suicide rate. you figure it’s just because they’re so miserable, but maybe it’s because they get picked on so much.”
Then BJ tells everyone about the forum we’re going to have at our church after Christmas, inviting anyone who wants to learn more about this whole thing to come.
“It’s just going to be people sharing their opinions and experiences in regard to homosexuality,” she tells them. “Some gay, some straight. And hopefully we’ll see how it all balances out with Christians and the Bible.”
“Will there be a big fight at the end?” teases Amy.
“Hopefully not,” I tell her. “But you never know.”
This is our last practice before Christmas, and some of us start handing out cards, and then everyone is telling everyone to have a Merry Christmas, and then to our surprise the JV coach brings us out a big platter of cookies that Coach Ackley’s wife made for us. I’m amazed at how the atmosphere in the locker room can instantly transform from animosity to good cheer, just like that. If only it could be like this always!
As BJ is driving me home, I tell her about my idea to invite Joey to be on the panel.
“That would be great,” she says. “Are you going to ask him?”
“I don’t know.” I’m remembering what that Casey girl said about me teasing Joey, the way she made it seem like I picked on him because he was gay. But I just picked on him because he was Joey. I always thought he liked the attention.
“Why don’t we do it together?” she suggests.
“Yeah, that might be okay.”
“Why not do it now?”
“Now?” Visions of what happened yesterday flash through my head.
“Yeah. I’m not busy right now. And maybe it will give Joey something to look forward to, a chance for him to be heard.”
“Do you think he’s still in the hospital?”
“Why don’t you call and find out?”
It turns out that he’s still in the hospital. Even so, I’m not convinced paying him a visit is such a great idea. “What if all those guys from the gay alliance are there?” I ask BJ.
“Well, I doubt that the news will be there today. And don’t you think that’s why they were acting like that? I mean for the most part. Kind of a setup, you know?”
“Maybe.” Still, I’m not so sure. News or no news, I don’t want a run-in with that Casey chick again.
“Come on, Ramie,” she urges me as she takes a turn toward town and the hospital. “I think the Lord wants us to do this. In fact, let’s pray about it as I drive. Let’s ask God to be in control and to bring some good out of this thing.”
I can’t help thinking we did that yesterday, but I don’t say this. Instead, we both pray. We ask God to be in control. We ask him to use us to love others and to help us to control our tongues. We ask that we’ll just be a good witness for him.
twenty
“LET’S SWING BY LE CHATEAU,” I SAY TO BJ ON OUR WAY TO THE HOSPITAL. “It’s the next street. Turn right.”
“You hungry?”
“No. But maybe we should take something to the others. Remember how that cookie platter cheered everyone up in the locker room?”
“Great idea!”
“Must’ve been a God thing,” I tell her as we go inside the sweet-smelling bakery and pick out what seems to be an array of tempting holiday treats. And it’s amazing how carrying this pink box of confections gives me a little more confidence when we go into the hospital this time.
“There might not be anyone here,” BJ says as she pushes the elevator button. “Then we can share some with Joey and take the rest home.”
But when we get to the waiting area on Joey’s floor, about a dozen or so of the same crowd are still hanging out. It almost feels as if they’re here to guard him, as if they think he’ll be in danger if they leave. Well, at least they’re loyal.
“Merry Christmas,” I say as we walk toward them. They watch us with narrowed eyes and tight lips.
“We brought treats,” announces BJ.
“Yeah,” I say, “No hard feelings about yesterday, okay?” I set the box on the coffee table and open it up. “They’re from Le Chateau,” I tell them.
“Probably poisoned,” says Casey from where she’s standing at a distance, arms folded across her chest as she leans against a post next to the couch.
“Nope,” I tell her as I remove a cookie and take a bite.
“Why are you doing this?” Jess asks me as she eyes the box of cookies with suspicion.
“We want to be friends,” I tell her. “We want to understand where you guys are coming from.”
“Are you guys for real?” asks the heavy guy with the knit cap.
I smile at him. “Yep.”
So he reaches for a cookie and takes a bite. “These are good,” he says to his friends, and soon most of them are eating. Amazingly, almost like the scene in the locker room, the atmosphere in here begins to lighten up. Okay, we still take some jabs, and Casey and another girl refuse to come within ten feet of us. But BJ tells everyone about the forum and how we hope that Joey will be well enough to talk.
“We think people need to hear his story,” I tell them. “They need to hear how he felt, how it feels to be treated like he was. And how it could drive a person to a place where he’d want to take his own life.”
“Why?” snipes Casey from her position by the post. “So you guys can figure out a better way to attack Joey, a way that will make him succeed at killing himself next time?”
BJ and I just look at her.
“They didn’t attack Joey,” says Jess in a slightly exasperated tone.
“Maybe not physically,” says Casey. “But you told me yourself that Ramie teased Joey a lot.”
Jess rolls her eyes. “Yeah, Ramie is like that. She’s been teasing Joey since middle school, back when he used to give her a bad time for not getting algebra. She teased him for being a brainiac. It’s not about being gay, Casey.”
Casey just glares at Jess, then she nudges the butch-looking girl beside her, and they both just walk off. A couple of the other girls follow. And now it’s just Jess and us and the guys left.
“That’s the problem with some of the gay chicks,” says a guy on the couch. He’s wearing a yellow shiny shirt and has his legs crossed in a slightly effeminate way. “They can be so aggressive.”
Bright Purple: Color Me Confused with Bonus Content Page 15