The Stone Rainbow

by Liane Shaw

  Maybe I should lie down for a few minutes and just relax before trying to get moving. Try to dream a little and forget about everything.

  I just manage to close my eyes and lie back when my tablet starts pinging at me.

  Clare must be calling! That’s perfect. She always knows exactly what to say to me when I’m being a chickenshit.

  I sit up, reaching over to grab my tablet. I accept the call quickly, so she doesn’t slip away. I sit back and watch for her face to appear on the screen.

  “N˘ı hăo.”

  I stare openmouthed at Benjamin’s big brown eyes looking at me. I was in such a hurry that I didn’t even check to see if it was actually Clare.

  “What?” I finally manage to get a sound out. He grins at me, and I start to melt like the Wicked Witch of the West.

  “Just saying hey. My grandparents are rubbing off on me. You look surprised to see me. Did I wake you up?” I pull myself out of puddle mode and shake my head.

  “No, I’ve been awake for a while. I just thought you were Clare.”

  “Clare?” He looks puzzled.

  “Ryan’s girlfriend.”

  “Oh, right. Why would you think I was her?” He still looks confused.

  “Oh, well, I just chat with her sometimes. And her brother too.” I tack that on quickly. I’m not sure why.

  “I hope you’re not disappointed it’s me then.”

  “No! Not at all!” I accidentally shout at the screen. He laughs a little and my cheeks start to betray me. Hopefully he’s on his phone and the picture will be small enough that he won’t notice.

  “Well, I was just calling to wish you luck. Mom told me today is the big day.”

  “I don’t know how big it will be. Probably just me, Ryan and your mom sitting in the art room staring at each other.”

  “That’s not what I mean by big. I mean it’s a big deal that you’re doing it at all. The first time I suggested it to you, it was obvious that you thought I was nuts.”

  “Yeah, well, it is kind of nuts. But it feels like the right thing to do. To try to do, anyway.”

  “I love the theme. Rainbows Reign. It’s a great slogan. It’s everything the parade is meant to be.”

  “I thought so. I didn’t make it up though. I found it online.”

  “It’s perfect. The whole thing will be awesome. I’ve already talked to a bunch of kids here, and they all want to come down for it.”

  “I’ve created the event posting, and Ryan shared it last night so more people will see it. Your mom is sharing it on the school page later today. Clare will share it today too, and that will get it out into Bainesville.”

  “I saw it this morning. I didn’t know you were going to actually dedicate the whole thing to me. It kind of choked me up. Then again, I’m pretty emotional these days, so most things have that effect.”

  “Well, I never would have thought of doing anything like this if it wasn’t for you.”

  “If I hadn’t got myself tossed into the ditch, you mean?”

  “No, I don’t mean that. Well, not totally. That is part of it. I wanted to do something special for you after what you went through…are still going through. But also, it’s because you made me think about…having the courage to be myself, I guess.” Now I sound like the cowardly lion at the end of the movie. Next, I’ll start dancing around looking for a brain.

  “It’s nice of you to give me credit, but I’m pretty sure it was always in there. I shared the post and asked my friends to share it too. It’s getting around. You might be surprised when you start checking the response.”

  “As of this morning, there were five people going.”

  “It’s six-forty. Give it some time!” He laughs.

  “I guess. Why are you up so early?”

  “Oh, my sleep is a bit screwed up. They changed my meds a couple of days ago and it’s affecting my system a bit.”

  “I hate that you have to deal with all of this. I wish this hadn’t happened to you.”

  “Me too. And I still can’t remember exactly what did happen, but my memory is getting better every day, so maybe eventually it’ll come to me.”

  “I don’t think I’d want to remember something like that.”

  “I know. Sometimes I think it’s a good thing. But it feels strange to have this…black hole in my mind. I want to know what they said to me, if anything. What pissed them off so much that they tried to hurt me. If they tried to hurt me, that is.”

  “You must be glad to be away from Thompson Mills.” The words are out there and now I can’t take them back, even though I’m wishing I hadn’t said them.

  “It’s nice to be back home. But there are things I miss about Thompson Mills.” He smiles but doesn’t say anything more.

  Am I one of the things he misses? Would Clare tell me to say something? There should be an app for this.

  “So, how does your mom feel about all of this?” he asks.

  Great. I sat here so long that he changed the subject.

  “Actually, she’s been surprisingly supportive, seeing as it’s so public. I think Ryan’s mom might have done some persuading there. Mom’s worried that my dad might find out though. He lives pretty far from us, and we never see him anymore, but she’s worried that somehow we’ll be so famous that he’ll see it,” I answer, still wondering how to find a way to ask him if he misses me.

  “Are you worried?” I look at him, considering the question. Am I worried? If my dad somehow found out Thompson Mills was having a Pride parade and was interested enough to check it out and then somehow found out that I’m organizing it, and on top of all that was smart enough to deduce I’m gay…well, I guess if he did all that, I’d just have to deal with it. And so would he. But the odds are definitely against it happening.

  “No.” I give him the short answer.

  “Good. So, Mom said no floats this year. Just a march with posters and flags?”

  “Yeah. It’ll be enough to do that much. She’s ordering a few real flags, and we’re going to make the rest. We’re going to do the rally, too. Lucas is going to speak and maybe Caleb. Maybe me, if I get up the guts.”

  “You could also think about some entertainment for the rally part to spice it up a bit. Like, maybe a singer?” His eyes become not so subtle laser pointers.

  “Me? You’re looking at me? No way, I don’t sing in public. The closest I’ve ever come to that is down at the bridge, and then it’s only birds listening to me.”

  “I bet you sound really good. You probably don’t know how talented you are. Art and music. You told me you like dancing too, right? Triple threat.”

  “I mostly dance in my head. Besides, I don’t think those are the three things most people mean when they talk about triple threat.” I should tell him about Ryan’s “misogynistic, homophobic, and relatively racist” definition. Then again, seeing as Benjamin’s sitting in a rehab center right now because of one of those Thompson Mills’ triple threats, he probably already knows.

  “I mostly dance in my head these days too.” He looks down, I assume at the legs that still aren’t holding him up.

  “How is the therapy going?”

  “They said there’s no permanent damage to my spine. My hip is healing well enough that we’ve started physio, but I’m still in this chair for a bit to keep the weight off everything for a while longer. Too bad I’m not still in Thompson Mills. Ryan would have someone to wheel around town with for a change.”

  Is that what he misses about Thompson Mills? Ryan? I want to ask it out loud but I don’t…just in case.

  “He’d probably like that. But they aren’t thinking you’ll still need one by the time you come back here, are they?”

  “According to the staff here, it’s all up to me. How hard I decide to work—blah, blah. No matter what, I’m coming back for the parade, e
ven if I have to wheel my way down the sidewalk. And I want to be there for grad, too.”

  “It will be pretty lame here compared to your school.” I assumed that he would decide to just stay there and graduate with his friends.

  “I’m still looking forward to it. I thought I might be able to persuade you to go to the dance with me, seeing as everyone assumes we’re a couple anyway.”

  The world stops spinning for a moment as my smile stretches across my face until my lips feel like they’re about to touch my ears.

  “Really?” The y squeaks out, catching in the back of my throat and making me cough a little. Benjamin laughs.

  “Yes, really. I figured you’d never get up the guts to ask me, so I was going to jump the gun before I even came here. I just wasn’t sure if you were ready to be that far out in public yet.”

  “Well, the council meeting was a pretty big push, and I’m going to be the rest of the way out in about…” I look at the time, “…three hours, give or take. There won’t be any turning back then. Everyone has been thinking it for so long, especially since Rainbow-gate, that I don’t think anyone will react that much anyway.”

  “Rainbow-gate?” he asks. I laugh self-consciously.

  “That’s what Ryan calls the art project day when you outed yourself at school and brought me along for the ride.”

  “I guess this is where I’m supposed to say I’m sorry. But I’m not.”

  He gives me the world’s sexiest grin and my tongue ties itself into knots while my face flares up as if I just stuck it in front of a hot fire on a cold winter’s day. Actually, I’m so hot and bothered that it feels like I jumped right into the fire. I seriously have to develop some self-control or I’m actually going to self-combust, which could mess up any plans I might have of going to the dance with Benjamin.

  “Anyway, I’d better let you go and kick some ass. You’re going to be great. I’ll talk to you later and you can tell me how awesome it was,” Benjamin says after a few seconds when it becomes obvious that I’m not going to say anything. I just nod, still not sure I can trust my voice as he disappears from view.

  I can’t believe he asked me to the dance. That is the single most amazing and terrifying thing that’s ever happened to me.

  Shit. I don’t think I even remembered to say yes!

  twenty-two

  I managed to cool down a little but still walked around feeling pretty warm and fuzzy until exactly 11:47 a.m., which was one minute ago. Now I’m sitting here, basically waiting for nothing, just like I imagined I would be. Ryan’s on my right, Mrs. Lee’s on my left, and my art teacher, Ms. Cameron, is at the back of the room marking students’ work while waiting for a meeting that might never start.

  “Told you,” I say to Ryan, as if somehow this is on him. He just rolls his eyes at me.

  “Class let out exactly eight minutes ago. People could barely get here in that amount of time.”

  “We’ve been here for five.”

  “Give it a few more minutes before you panic completely. Besides, we decided it doesn’t matter who shows up. We have enough help. My parents, Mrs. Lee, and Ms. Cameron, for a start. Your mom, too. She told my mother that she’d work on the DIY flags with her at our place.”

  “Really? She didn’t tell me that she was doing that.” That’s a surprise. She hasn’t exactly told me not to do this, but she hasn’t been jumping for joy either, and definitely hasn’t been offering to help.

  “She wanted it to be a surprise…and that’s why I wasn’t supposed to say anything. Oops.” Ryan grins sheepishly but doesn’t look particularly sorry.

  “That’s okay. I’m glad I know. At least someone wants to help.” I look at my phone—again. Eleven fifty. Lunch only runs another half hour.

  “It’s going to be fine, Jack,” Mrs. Lee says from where she’s been working on her laptop. “No matter who does or doesn’t show up here.”

  She’s right. He’s right. It doesn’t matter if anyone from this backward-thinking, stuck-in-the-Dark-Ages, intolerant, pathetic school—

  “Hi! Is this the parade meeting?” A voice interrupts my internal rant. Sarah Edey is standing at the door with two buddies. Right behind her are about five more girls I recognize from my art class.

  Eight people! Standing right here. For my meeting. For my Pride parade meeting. I take it all back.

  “Yeah, come on in,” Ryan says when he realizes that I’m counting people with my mouth hanging open and no sound coming out.

  “Hi, Ryan. Hi, Jack. Hi, Mrs. Lee,” Sarah says, sitting down and folding her hands, looking at me expectantly. I feel like I should start teaching a lesson on illustrious abstract artists, or something eloquent like that, instead of discussing the different sizes of rainbows I want to draw.

  “Hi, Sarah. I’m pleased to see you here. All of you,” Mrs. Lee says warmly, nodding at everyone.

  “Thanks, Mrs. Lee. We wanted to help when we saw Jack’s Facebook post that said the parade was being dedicated to Benjamin. We all feel terrible about what happened to him.” Sarah looks around at the rest of the girls.

  “Definitely. I mean, everyone has their own opinion about things, but no one has the right to hurt someone else. Benjamin is such a nice guy.” The girl next to Sarah—I think her name is Nancy—looks over at me and smiles.

  “I watch lots of TV shows with gay characters, and they all seem cool. It’s just…around here it’s never really been okay to admit that. At least, not with the kids I know.” Sarah shrugs, looking a little uncomfortable.

  “Well, you’re here now, and that’s the important thing,” Mrs. Lee says. “There’s lots of work to be done, and we can use all the help we can get.”

  “I think we can find a few more people for next time. It’s just that no one was sure about being the first to step up, you know?” Nancy says.

  “Now that you did, we’d better get started. Jack, I’ll turn it over to you.” Mrs. Lee gets up and goes to the back of the group. I stand there for a few seconds, looking at the eight girls and Ryan. Nine people who want to help me make rainbows for my parade. My eyes water a little, probably from the paint fumes in here. Right.

  “Okay, well, we have a few weeks to get this organized. Mostly we need to make some posters and come up with some other creative ways to get noticed. The theme is obviously Pride, but as I said in the post, we’re going to use Rainbows Reign as our main slogan, so we’re going to really focus on rainbows, both in the flags and on the posters and everything else to honor Benjamin. His project is sitting on the shelf at the back of the classroom, so if you aren’t in our art class and don’t know the symbolism of the rainbow and significance of the colors, you can check it out there. There’s a typed explanation beside it in a folder. But basically, the rainbow represents peace, harmony, and diversity. All things we want to talk about in Thompson Mills.” I look back at Benjamin’s stone rainbow. It still amazes me every time I see it. It looks like something out of an art gallery to me. And he says I’m the artistic one!

  “So, what do you want us to do now?” Sarah asks.

  “I thought we could use today as a brainstorming session. Think about what kinds of things we want to carry. Check out some other slogans and things online that would work. Then we can come back and figure out what we need to actually start putting things together.” I look over at Mrs. Lee for approval, and she gives me a thumbs up.

  “So, just take a few minutes to talk about ideas and look at Benjamin’s project if you need to. You can ask questions, but I probably won’t have any answers.” Everyone laughs. I was going for honest, not funny, but the laughter still sounds nice. For the first time I get that whole “they’re laughing with you, not at you” thing that my mother always said to me when I was younger.

  “I can’t believe this!” I say to Ryan as we watch the girls talking away, looking at Benjamin’s project, and reading t
hings on their phones that might even relate to what we’re doing. Or they might just be checking text messages. Who cares? They’re here and willing to help.

  “It’s cool. I thought some girls might show. I figured guys would be too chicken.”

  “Fine with me. Anyone is better than no one.”

  “Clare would love this. She told me they are going to bring some of their own signs and flags and things from Bainesville. They have a Rainbow Club at her school and they’ve decided to double-up this year and work on our parade and theirs at the same time.”

  “That’s incredible. I feel a bit like I’m dreaming and I’m afraid to wake up.” I should pinch myself just to be sure.

  “You’re not the only one! We must both be dreaming. Check it out.” Ryan points over toward the door of the classroom. I actually have to pinch myself when I see who’s standing there, leaning ever so casually against the doorframe as if he shows up at Pride meetings every day of the week.

  I would have said there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that we’d ever see Cody McNeely at a Pride meeting, but here he is. He looks over at us and saunters into the room, stopping to flirt with each one of the girls as he passes by.

  “Hey,” he says.

  “Hey,” Ryan answers, the look on his face a cross between shocked and ready to burst out laughing.

  “Hey,” I say it too, which sounds silly all of a sudden, and I have to bite down on my lower lip to keep it from smiling.

  “So. I don’t paint. I don’t draw. I don’t do rainbows, period.” Cody looks at me sternly as if I had asked him to do all of those things.

  “Okaaay….” I don’t want to say the wrong thing so I just keep it short.

  “So, why the hell are you here then?” Ryan asks, obviously not worried about what he says.

  “Well, I figured that this deal might need…security. You know, keep the assholes at bay.”

  “I was hoping they’d just decide to stay home that day,” I say.