Alma Mater

by Rita Mae Brown

  "You don't really expect me to agree to your not finishing college, do you?"

  "Mom, I do. I finally found what I want to do."

  R. J. glanced out the window at the river, at the pale winter light. "Well, I didn't finish college either. I'd be very pleased if you did." "Mignon can finish for both of us."

  A long silence followed. Even Piper was quiet, waiting for R. J. to speak.

  "All right. I'll talk to Bunny. I can't make a decision without her."

  W

  hile not pleased, Frank took the news better than either R. J. or Vic had anticipated. R. J. decided to stay in town to run a few errands and then come home with Frank. She

  asked Vic to pick up Mignon from school.

  As the aqua-and-white Impala idled in front of Surry High, Vic watched the cirrus clouds turn to ruddy gold. A large wreath hung over the main door to the school, a reminder that she hadn't bought a single Christmas present. A leather bomber jacket would be just right for Charly, but they were so expensive. She would have to think of something else. She wanted to buy a ring for Chris and then thought that might best be given on graduation day. Maybe a necklace or something for Christmas, depending on the cost.

  A small Ranger truck pulled up behind her and the driver honked the horn. Vic twisted around to see Teeney Rendell.

  Vic cut her motor, got out, and walked to the Ranger. "Hey, what are you doing home?"

  "Holyoke lets us out early. I'm here to pick up Walter. You look good, as always."

  "You do, too." Vic noticed Teeney's seal-brown eyes and hair. "Last time I saw you was summer."

  "This summer I'm getting a job on Cape Cod. The pay's better than around here. I guess you'll be looking for a real job soon."

  "Yeah."

  "You'll find a good one. I just know it." A flicker of recognition lit up Teeney's eyes.

  Vic, too, recognized it, an unspoken sense. She knew without being told that Teeney was gay.

  The school bell rang, sounding oddly like the bell at a boxing match.

  You know, there are times when I miss this place. Miss being in high school without a thought in my head." Vic pushed away from the truck.

  "You always had thoughts in your head."

  Vic laughed. "If I don't see you, have a Merry Christmas." "You, too, Vic."

  Vic walked over to the Impala, leaning against the passenger door. She didn't want being gay to become the center of her existence, but she had to look at herself in a new way. After all, she only knew how to be straight; that's what she was trained to be. She would have to change her expectations of herself. Maybe it was like learning a new language.

  "Vic!" Mignon waved, skipping toward her. When she reached her, she threw her arms around her sister, giving her a big hug. "What are you doing here?"

  "Being your chauffeur. Mom's busy."

  "See you, Walter." Mignon waved at the best-looking guy in the senior class. She whispered, "Makes me hurt to look at him." She raised her voice when she recognized Teeney in the Ranger. "Hey, Teeney."

  "Hey, Mignon." Teeney waved as she fired up the Ford truck and pulled away from the curb.

  As students walked by, Mignon nodded or called out. She'd become a popular girl. Vic noticed she even said something nice to Marjorie Solomon.

  "Such discipline."

  Mignon wrinkled her nose. " 'Cause you and Mom beat me black and blue." She hopped in the car, bouncing on the seat. "When are you going to let me drive this 'chine?"

  "When you get your first gray hair." Vic cranked the motor, gunning it down the road just to hear Mignon squeal.

  "Hey, where are we going?"

  "Uncle Don's. I want to make a phone call without Mom and Dad

  around. Uncle Don will let me use the phone in his office."

  "Oh, baby." Mignon rolled her eyes and then made kissing sounds. "Creep."

  "Queer."

  "Mignon, give me a break."

  "How come you're home? I didn't think you got break until next week, speaking of breaks." Mignon smiled, finding herself clever.

  "I'm home in disgrace."

  Mignon turned to face her sister, her body rigid with expectation. "They find out?"

  "No."

  "You know Charly was here?"

  "I know."

  "That why you're home?"

  "I'm home because I got thrown out of school and I had to tell Mom and Dad."

  "No!"

  "Yes."

  "They throw you out because you're queer?"

  "No, dammit, nobody knows but you, unless you've blabbed your big mouth."

  "Thanks." Mignon dropped back on the seat.

  "Sorry, Mignon, it's been exhausting. Mom was really upset. Then she and I drove down to tell Dad. He was okay. I mean, he wasn't blessing me, you know,-but he wasn't condemning me either. I thought I'd sail right through this, but I guess I was more scared than I knew. God, I hate to disappoint Mom and Dad."

  Mignon rapped her finger against her school books. "Jeez, then how are you going to tell them about Chris?"

  "I don't know, but it's going to have to wait a bit. One thing at a time."

  "What'd you do?"

  "Huh?"

  "What'd you do to get kicked out of William and Mary?"

  "Oh, I went over to the Catholic Church and put a barbecue apron on the statue of the Blessed Virgin Mother, and I gave her a chef's hat and cooking utensils and a grill."

  "That's so cool!" Mignon clapped her hands. "Too cool."

  Vic laughed. "It was pretty funny, but I got caught, and that's that." "Are you upset?"

  "I didn't think I was, but I guess I am a little bit. I'm going back tomorrow, pack up, try to work out my rent, and I'm out of there." "What about Chris?"

  "It's not like she's in Tunis, Mignon."

  "She wants to live with you?"

  "After she graduates . . . yes, she does."

  Red and gold metallic streamers were wound all around the light poles at the car dealership. A giant Christmas tree took place of pride behind the huge plate-glass window, almost but not totally obscuring Hojo at her command post.

  They parked.

  "Aunt Bunny's here," Mignon warned. "Wearing her binocs. Does she think it's, like, a fashion accessory or something?"

  "Uncle Don's her most perfect fashion accessory." Vic knew she was going to have to tell Bunny about events but hoped she could just squeeze by today without having to spill the beans.

  "Mignon, let me see," Hojo squealed as the sisters came into the display room.

  Mignon trotted over. "Hoops. Finally." She noticed Hojo's nails. "Oh, Hojo, that is so cool."

  Each nail was painted a different color, and each nail had a star, a sun, a moon, Saturn, or some other planet on it.

  Hojo rolled her fingers in front of her. "The solar system. I got tired of moons. Took me four hours!"

  "That is so cool!" Mignon repeated, with slightly less enthusiasm. Vic headed toward Bunny.

  "What a surprise. You finish classes early?"

  "Yes." Vic didn't lie.

  Bunny fingered her binoculars. "I can see the expression on drivers' faces when they drive by, and I can tell who's going to come onto the lot and who isn't. I swear." She smoothed out her skirt. "Had to help with the books today. Lottie, Don's bookkeeper, took to her bed with the flu. I think it was the flu. With Lottie, you never know. She's the only nymphomaniac hypochondriac I know."

  "Where's Uncle Don?"

  "Service."

  "Do you think he'd mind if I used his office phone?"

  "No. Go right ahead." Bunny waved her toward Don's office, a cubicle with glass partitions halfway up.

  Vic sat down and dialed Chris.

  "Hello."

  "You're home. I'm so glad." Vic breathed out.

  "What happened?"

  "Everything's okay. They aren't thrilled, but it's okay."

  "I've been so worried." Chris's soothing voice sounded deeper.

  "I think I was a little more w
orried than even I knew. Hey, I'll come back over tomorrow. It will be our last weekend until after Christmas. It'd be kind of nice to spend it with you in the apartment, but after dropping the bomb on Mom and Dad I think I should be here this weekend. Come home with me. It's kind of corny, but everyone decorates and I don't know, it's just fun."

  "Sure it's okay? Your mom and dad aren't too upset to have a visitor?" "It will be fine. I'll get you at two unless you cut your last class. I'm not suggesting that you do."

  "Two." Chris waited a moment. "I've been thinking about you every minute. Really, Vic, I was so worried. I wish I could have done the deed for you, but, well, I can't. I love you."

  "I love you, too."

  They said their good-byes. Vic pressed the disconnect button and then called Charly's dorm. After going through three different guys picking up the receiver, which was now off the hook, she finally reached Charly.

  "Hey, handsome."

  'Vic, what happened?"

  "It's okay. They're upset, but it's okay."

  "I still think I should . . ."

  "Don't. Now, come on. It's done. I called to tell you I'm staying home over the weekend to kind of keep things cool and to Christmas-shop. I don't want you hanging around because I'll never be able to get your present."

  "The only present I want is you."

  A little pang rippled through her chest. "Well, you're getting something else, too."

  He replied, "Guess I'd better do some shopping, too, huh? I'll miss you. I hate being without you. I am so glad the season is over. You don't know."

  "I'll call you over the weekend—that is, if I can get through." "I'll call you. You okay, for real?"

  "For real. I feel bad for Mom and Dad, but it's okay."

  "This will all work out. I promise."

  "I know."

  "Well, I feel like a heel."

  "Charly, forget it. This just works out better for everyone." "I love you, Vic."

  "I love you, too, Charly."

  He lowered his voice, a light note creeping into the tone. "You know I can't even think of you without my dick standing straight up. You make me crazy."

  "Charly, if I had a dick, it would be stiff, too." She laughed.

  "That's a really weird thought." He sucked in his breath. "But I love you."

  "Love you, too. See you Monday."

  "Okay. Bye."

  "Bye." She hung up the receiver and walked out, nearly bumping into Georgia Wallace, who had just come onto the floor. "Miss Wallace, I'm sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going."

  "Young people never do." She smiled. "You're always in a hurry to go somewhere, and then you discover there's nothing there."

  "Hey," Hojo called out, dispensing with the formality of calling the older woman by her last name.

  "That Hojo" —Georgia shook her head— "up to no good and loving it. Oh, for a little bit of that energy. I am just ragged out because Poppy's going senile. Yolanda's in the kitchen, Sissy's being a real pissant about it" —the corner of her mouth turned up— "and I told her `Leave Yolanda alone. It makes him happy. How much longer are we going to have him with us?' And I can scoop up cow dung with the best of them. Sissy is so spoiled." Her voice dropped an octave on "so."

  Hojo flashed her fingers. "Do you love it?"

  Both Vic and Georgia studied the fingernails now drooped over the side of the command post. Mignon was next to Hojo, fiddling with the computer.

  "Hojo, sugar, you are celestial," Georgia intoned.

  "Got my nails done, got my push-up bra, Georgia, I'm ready for life. Let's go out tonight."

  "Hojo darlin', you're too wild for me. You're more Sissy's cup of tea."

  "Oh, come on, Georgia, you can't be but so good," Hojo wheedled.

  "Well . . . not tonight, but go out with you sometime. You know, I'll have to get my hair done, and I'll have to lock Sissy in the basement. She'd kill me if I went somewhere fun and she had to stay home."

  "Lock her up, then." Hojo threw up her hands, her many bracelets sounding like castanets.

  "Mignon, what are you doing?" Vic asked.

  "Pulling up inventory, see?"

  Vic stepped onto the dais. "Which car do you want?"

  "Yours. I just like playing with the computer."

  "Come on. Hey, let's get some takeout so Mom doesn't have to cook." They drove to a nearby Chinese restaurant.

  As they waited for their order, Mignon inquired, "Are the Wallaces mental?"

  "Not in Surry County."

  She whispered, 'Do you think there are a lot of gay people in Surry County?"

  "I don't know. Why?"

  "Well, you'll find out. I mean when you come out, won't they tell you who they are?"

  "I don't know. Mignon, I don't think of these things."

  "When they tell you, tell me."

  "Why?"

  "Because it's exciting."

  "For Christ's sake." Vic grabbed her by the back of the neck with one hand. "Gossip queen."

  "I didn't say I'd tell, I just want you to tell me."

  "Maybe I will and maybe I won't."

  Mignon poked her finger in Vic's ribs, making her release her neck. "If you don't, I'll bring a cow in the kitchen."

  "That's a moo-t point."

  "Oh, lame!" Mignon switched back to wanting to know who was gay. "Really though, tell me."

  "Mignon, that is a confidence. A person might be scared. I can't violate a confidence."

  "You're not scared." Mignon said as they carried the white cartons in a cardboard box out to the car.

  "I haven't told anyone yet but you. I didn't exactly tell you; you figured it out. And I am scared. I just don't think too much about it, that's all."

  "Are you really afraid?" Mignon couldn't imagine her big beautiful sister being afraid of much.

  "Of course, I am."

  Mignon grew solemn. "I don't want you to shut me out."

  Vic opened the back door, Mignon put the cardboard box on the

  floor of the car and then Vic hugged her. "You're my sister, I'm not go-

  ing to shut you out."

  "I don't want things to be different. Like you're moving to a different world and I'm not."

  "Ah, honey, that's not going to happen. It's not like I'm on a

  different planet." She then opened the passenger door for Mignon. "I don't know what's going to happen, but no one does . . . about tomorrow, I mean."

  "Think there are books about what you do if you have a gay sister?"

  Vic shook her head, shutting the door, and then walked around to her side, getting in the car. "No. Know what I think?"

  "What?"

  "All those books about controlling this or understanding that—it's all crap. There are no rules. Think about it. The rules we're told to live by were all made up by dead people. People we'll never know and people who don't know us. Like America. All written up by white men with property. I'm not saying it's all bad, I'm just saying no one thought of us."

  "Women?"

  "Kind of. But mostly what I wonder is why everyone is so ready to believe dead people."

  Mignon gave this her ripe consideration as they drove home. "What about the wisdom of the centuries?"

  "Okay, there is wisdom, there is stuff that needs to be passed along, but my point, if I have one" —she laughed— "is that every single person has to examine everything. You can't just believe something because someone tells you to. Hell, what do they know? It's not their life."

  "Yeah."

  "Yeah, what?"

  "I see your point. Do you see mine?"

  "Which is?"

  "I don't want to be left out of your life."

  "You won't be left out."

  Vic thought for a while as they passed Boonie Ashley's store. "When you think about what a needy mess the human animal is for such a long time, it's a wonder anyone has children."

  "It's all that poop, puke, and pee." Mignon wrinkled her nose in disgust. "If God were so smart, you think h
e'd have come up with a better solution."