King Geordi the Great

by Gene Gant

  “Come on, Geordi. That little boy romance was over twenty years ago. You know lots of teens have same-sex feelings, and for many of them, those feelings go away and never resurface. The point here is that I was confused by my attraction to Steve, and I couldn’t go to my dad to talk about it. He wasn’t the kind of man who’d accept that his son could be gay and stand by him. Hell, he probably would have knocked the crap out of me if I’d told him.” Dad reached over and put his hand on my knee. “I didn’t want that for you. I wanted you to be proud and confident in who you are. I wanted to be the kind of father who accepted and celebrated all of you. And I’m glad you told me how you feel. I will step back and let you have your life, but I will be here, in your background, if you need me.” He patted my knee and held up his hands. “So. We’re good now, you and me?”

  I just looked at him for a moment, this man who was the same dad I had known all my life and yet was new to me in awesomely wonderful ways. Grinning, I threw myself at him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “Dad, we’re great.”

  THE NEXT morning, a social worker arrived at our house. He sat down with Mom, Dad, and Toff, and after an hour of discussion and the signing of paperwork, the social worker left Mom and Dad with temporary custody of Toff. Later that day, the McNairy County Medical Examiner officially ruled Mr. Toffler’s death a suicide. The sheriff, in response to Dad’s questions, advised that she found no life insurance policy among Mr. Toffler’s effects. She did, however, recover almost four thousand dollars from his car and wallet. She said the money wasn’t relevant to her investigation and wired the cash to Dad on Toff’s behalf.

  “What do you want to do?” Dad asked.

  “I want to bring my father home,” Toff replied. “I want to bury him next to my mom. I think he’d want that.”

  So Dad used the money the sheriff wired to have Mr. Toffler’s body brought back to Memphis. Four days later, there was a morning graveside service under the hot summer sun. Mrs. Sanchez, Jess, and Javier were there. So were Jake and his mom. A lot of our friends were there, and even Carson showed up. About twenty people from the construction company where Mr. Toffler had worked paid their respects. Mom and Dad were there.

  And I was there, right beside Toff.

  It was a short, simple, beautiful funeral. A few of the coworkers shed tears. I cried a little. Even Jess had to blink to clear her eyes. But not Toff.

  I didn’t know whether that was strength or something else.

  When it was over, Mom and Dad escorted Toff back to our car. I hung back, trying to figure out what I was going to say to Toff once I got him alone. When I saw Carson hurrying across the cemetery on an intercept course, my heart started racing. Surely this idiot wasn’t going to jump me in a freaking graveyard.

  “Hey, Geordi,” he said in an odd, sort of nervous tone. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  I noticed Dad had hesitated several feet ahead, looking back at me, ready to step in. I waved him on, saying, “I’ll be there in a bit.”

  When Mom, Dad, and Toff had moved out of earshot, Carson lowered his chin and said, “I’m sorry for knocking you around, Geordi.” He leaned closer, dismay rising in his eyes as he got a good look at my injured face. “Damn. I beat the crap out of you.”

  “Yeah, and that really made my day. Thanks, Carson.”

  He actually looked regretful. “I shouldn’t have done that. And I never should have said all that homophobic stuff to you. What happened with my dad wasn’t your fault.”

  “I know,” I said, surprised that I wasn’t at all angry. “If anything, it was your fault. You wouldn’t have been in the shot at all if you hadn’t bumped into me.” Hey. This whole honesty thing is really kind of cool.

  “Yeah, that’s right.”

  “So does that mean I get to beat the crap out of you now?”

  He stood up straight in his dark blue churchgoing suit, dropped his hands to his sides, and lifted his chin. “Okay, man. Do what you gotta do.”

  “Carson, I was kidding.” Although, honestly, there was a teeny tiny part of me that wanted to give him a shot right in that dimpled little chin of his.

  “Oh.” He shook himself, looking uncomfortable and just a bit relieved. “Anyway, I got new respect for gays, man. My dad’s been such a hard-ass about this. I mean, you should hear some of the stuff he says to me. That I’m going to hell, I’m going to get AIDS, people won’t respect me, I’ll never be a real man, I’ll never have children. And he won’t stop. I’ve told him a hundred times I’m not gay, and he’s still giving me shit.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Carson.”

  “You don’t have to be sorry because my dad’s an asshole, man. Hell with it. He’ll just have to get over himself. I really admire you now. You know the crazy stuff some people say and feel about gays, but you’re not afraid to stand up and be yourself. That’s so cool, man.” He smiled and held up his fist. I smiled back and bumped knuckles with him.

  “Anyway, I gotta go,” he said. “My mom drove me out here, and she says I’ll have to walk home if I’m not at the car in five minutes. See ya around?’

  “Sure, Carson.”

  God. The world was truly going to hell.

  Was I actually starting to like Carson Meyer?

  MOM AND Dad held the funeral repast at our house.

  “They’re coming to see you, actually,” Mom told Toff on the drive home from the cemetery, “to offer their support and sympathy. Do you feel up to greeting guests? It’s okay if you don’t.”

  “No, it’s okay, Mrs. Quintrell,” Toff said. “I’m fine.”

  It was mostly adults who showed up. Toff sat on the sofa in the living room to receive everybody. He was still wearing the new black suit Dad had bought him for the funeral, all handsome and dignified with his hair slicked back. I sat in the chair across from him, staying close, ready to swoop in if things got to be too much for him. He did great, smiling politely, shaking hands, accepting hugs, offering thanks.

  A tall, slender man in gray slacks and a short-sleeved dress shirt stepped up to Toff and stuck out his hand for a shake. “Hello. Your name’s Sandor, is that right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m Hank Magnum. Your father worked for me for many years. He didn’t talk much, but he was one of the most efficient and resourceful employees I ever hired. You look a lot like him. How’re you holding up?”

  “I’m good, sir.”

  “Is there anything you need?”

  “No. I’m all taken care of.”

  The man pulled a bulging white envelope from his back pocket. “We took up a collection for you at the office,” he said as he handed the envelope to Toff. “My card’s in there too. If there is ever anything I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to call.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Magnum. I appreciate that.”

  As Mr. Magnum moved off to the dining room, Jess appeared in her black cotton dress and sat down next to Toff. “Hi,” she said to both of us.

  “Hey,” I said. It was odd seeing her in a dress. “Your mom let you out of your cage again, huh?”

  “Just for the funeral. But I’ve only got four more days in prison, and then I’m a free woman.” She patted Toff’s shoulder. “You hungry, fella? Thirsty? Want me to get you something?”

  “No, but thanks.”

  Jake ambled over and sat down next to Jess. “That chocolate peppermint cake in the kitchen is awesome.”

  Jess grinned at him. “Thanks. I made that.”

  Jake leaned forward and looked at Toff. “Hey, I gotta leave soon. My mom’s only giving me two hours off the leash today.”

  “Oh, yours too, huh?” Jess quipped.

  “Come out to the car, Toff,” said Jake. “I got something for you.”

  The four of us walked out to Mrs. Butcher’s car. Jake opened the back door and pulled out the portable file. “I thought I’d better give this back to you while I had the chance,” he said, handing the file to Toff.

  Toff
tucked the file under his left arm. The envelope full of money Mr. Magnum had given him was still in his hand. “Thanks, Jake. Thanks for coming. It means a lot.”

  I heard the front door snap shut. Mrs. Butcher had just stepped out and was heading toward us. Jake gave Toff a hug. He hugged Jess and me. “See you guys.”

  Mrs. Butcher offered Toff more condolences and then drove off with Jake. Jess, Toff, and I went to the guest bedroom. Toff placed the file and the money on the dresser. Looking at him and Jess, my emotions started swirling again. I had to sit down on the edge of the bed.

  Toff took off his jacket, and Jess hung it in the closet for him. We might have talked or maybe started a game online, but Mrs. Sanchez walked in. “Time to go, Jess.”

  Jess clearly didn’t want to leave, but she didn’t protest. She gave Toff’s hand a squeeze.

  “Toff, baby,” Mrs. Sanchez said as she slipped an arm around his shoulders, “would you like to be a part of my family?”

  Toff’s eyes seemed to spark. “What?”

  “You’ve been banging in and out of my house for years now. You’ve always been like another son to me. I talked it over with Javier and Jessica, and with Mr. and Mrs. Quintrell. Everyone thinks it would be a good thing. I just wanted to let you know. It’s nothing you have to decide today. Take some time, think it over—”

  “Yes,” Toff said right away. “Yes, Mrs. Sanchez, I’d really like that.”

  “Oh, sweetie.” Mrs. Sanchez hugged him tightly.

  BY THREE o’clock, all the guests were gone. Mom and Dad were in the kitchen, cleaning up. Toff and I had exchanged our suits and ties for jeans, T-shirts, and kicks, and we were sitting on the floor of the guest bedroom with our backs against the bed. He had the portable file on his lap and was looking through the various documents inside.

  “Toff?”

  “Yeah, Geordi?”

  “Tell me the truth. Are you okay? I’m kind of worried because you haven’t cried or anything since you found out your dad was dead, and you shouldn’t hold stuff in.”

  “I’m not holding anything in. It hurts that my dad is dead. It hurts that he didn’t really love me the way he should have. But he was so sad, so lost, and I’m glad he’s at peace now.” The look he gave me was stoic. “Don’t worry about me. I’m gonna be fine. I’ll be okay as long as I’m with you.”

  I got it now, why Toff had no tears. He was right about his dad. Mr. Toffler had never let go of his grief after that train crashed into his car and took Mrs. Toffler. He essentially died years ago, along with his wife. And Toff had grieved so many times for his dad that he had no tears left to cry for him. Unlike his father, Toff was ready to let go of sorrow. He was ready to embrace life.

  I decided to stop hovering and give him some space. As I was about to get up, he came across something in the file that made him freeze. I leaned toward him, trying not to stick my nose in the file. “What is it?” I asked.

  He didn’t answer. His expression was one of awe and disbelief. Slowly, he pulled out a thick sheaf of photographs. The one on top was a slightly faded eight by ten of a smiling, pretty young woman with unruly brown hair. Toff broke into a huge grin. I’d always thought he looked like his dad. But now I could see that he had the same wild hair and bright smile as the woman in the photo—his mom.

  I watched him as he began looking through the photos. There was one of his mom and dad sitting side by side in a boat with their cheeks pressed together. Another photo showed his mom in a gold graduation gown and cap, holding a diploma. And another showed her holding a baby—Toff—in her arms, with Mr. Toffler beaming happily behind them. As Toff went through the photos, he looked so innocently happy, so full of wonder. It gladdened my heart, opened up my soul, and I knew. I knew what Jess and Mom had known, what I had hidden from myself or refused to see—what I’d been afraid to acknowledge. I knew why I’d been so emotional lately, caught up in coils of feeling I couldn’t sort out or make sense of.

  I was in love with Toff. I had been in love with him all along.

  In that moment, everything became clear. For so long I’d been uncomfortable with myself, so uncomfortable that I could barely stand to look in a mirror sometimes or let other people really know me. On some subconscious level, I hadn’t wanted to accept that Toff had become something more than a friend. He’d been phenomenal in the way he showed his deepest feelings for me, and I’d practically shut him out, afraid of my heart. I’d short-circuited my own life by not being completely honest with myself and the people I cared about. Now there was no more confusion for me, and there was no more hiding. I loved this boy so much it seemed my heart would burst from it. The intensity of that joy brought fresh tears to my eyes. If I didn’t get out of that room now, I’d start crying and laughing and babbling all at the same time, and Toff would think I’d lost my mind.

  Later I would tell him just how much he meant to me. Later I’d tell him how happy I was that he was in love with me too. I leaned over, kissed his cheek, and then I got up quickly and left him to discover the mom he’d never known.

  Epilogue

  JESSICA’S QUINCEAÑERA celebration was beautiful.

  Mrs. Sanchez rented a hall at the Pink Palace and decorated it with blue and white balloons, blue and white ribbons, and lots of white flowers. She also hired a band and caterers. Jess’s friends from the neighborhood were there, and relatives from all over were also in attendance. Mom and Dad came too, of course.

  Jess looked stunning in her blue ball gown with a white stone necklace and matching earrings, her hair swept up in an elegant swirl. She entered the hall as the band played a rousing song, escorted by her tuxedoed father. I was surprised to see Mr. Sanchez, and I feared there would be fireworks very, very soon. They stopped at a small table on the edge of the dance floor. Mr. Sanchez picked up the sparkling tiara there and placed it on Jess’s head, a declaration that she would forever be his princess. Then he led her onto the floor for the traditional father-daughter dance. When they finished the dance, Mr. Sanchez continued following tradition by passing Jess off to her chosen escort—Caitlin.

  Smiling, shimmering in a white satin ball gown, Caitlin took Jess in her arms and they swung out on the dance floor. That’s when I expected the fireworks to start, but Mr. Sanchez just smiled at Jess and Caitlin. I guess he realized Jess meant it when she told him he could either get with her program or go to hell. He bowed to Mrs. Sanchez and took her hand and they swung out on the dance floor too. Along with her parents, Jessica’s court of honor was supposed to join them on the dance floor at this point.

  The quinceañera’s court of honor was usually made up of chosen friends paired-off into mixed-sex couples. Jess wanted her court to honor her relationship with Caitlin, and her friends were paired off in same-sex couples. Toff and I were together. Jake was paired up with Carson. Even Javier paired up with one of the guys who played on the football team with him. Straight guys dancing together, straight girls dancing together—it was great.

  Just before dinner was served, Mom and Dad said their goodbyes to Jess, reminded me what time they wanted me to be home, and took off. They didn’t get the house to themselves much, and they probably wanted to take advantage of my absence and… well, you get the idea. Wish I didn’t.

  The food looked and smelled fantastic. After everyone sat down and ate a sumptuous meal, Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez made a toast to their daughter. Then, per Jessica’s request, Jake grabbed his guitar, joined the band, and sang Stevie Wonder’s “Isn’t She Lovely?” while Jess and Caitlin led off another round of dancing.

  There was nothing better than having Toff in my arms, looking into his beautiful eyes as we moved together across the floor.

  A lot had happened in the three weeks since Mr. Toffler’s funeral. Jess and Jake pulled ten- and fourteen-day groundings, respectively, but my mom only grounded me for a week. Blondie—Charles Beck—pleaded guilty to aggravated assault, theft, and trespassing and was sentenced to eighteen months in prison. That spared To
ff, Jess, and me from having to testify in court against him. Sheriff Villanova released Mr. Toffler’s possessions, and Toff was now the not exactly proud soon-to-be owner of a 2005 Toyota Camry he couldn’t drive. He was also the soon-to-be owner of the house he’d grown up in, a prime piece of real estate in one of the most desirable neighborhoods in the city. We discovered that Mr. Toffler left $756 in his checking account and $17,000 in his savings account. Since the man didn’t leave a will, Mrs. Sanchez hired a lawyer to go to court and get the money in the bank accounts and the titles to the car and the house transferred to Toff.

  Toff moved into the Sanchez house last week, and it was just a matter of waiting for the completion of all the legal hocus pocus (which was being handled by the same lawyer) to make his adoption legal. Or that was the plan, at least. Mrs. Sanchez suggested that Toff keep the car, since he would probably be driving in another year, but sell the house and use the money to pay for college. The idea of selling the house sounded good to Toff, but he said he wasn’t sure yet if he wanted to do that. It turned out that Mr. Toffler did have a life insurance policy; Toff found it in the portable file. He was the only beneficiary on the $50,000 policy. Mrs. Sanchez had already filed a claim for Toff, and he had agreed with her that they would place the money in a trust until he turned twenty-one.

  Jake and Carson had been hanging out a lot more with Jess, Caitlin, Toff, and me, and now the two of them had gotten to be good friends. Jake was still rocked with the desire to kiss another guy. Carson even tried to give Jake advice on how to ask a guy out. In part, Carson’s hanging out with us was an act of sheer defiance. His dad had finally accepted that Carson wasn’t gay, but he wasn’t crazy about his son spending so much time with the neighborhood queer kids. “I’ll drag him into the twenty-first century if it’s the last thing I do,” Carson declared.