The Fire Went Wild (Home is a Fire Book 2) Page 7

  “So what’s the deal, Bammy?” he asked. “Are you firing us?”

  She paused as she searched for the words. She took a deep breath and said, “No. Your jobs are safe. For now. But there are a few rules we need to put into place if we’re gonna get through this.”

  “Rules?” I asked. “Like what?”

  “First,” she said, “no PDA. No public displays of affection. Nada. That includes handholding. You understand? Now, before you start in on me again, I know that’s not fair. Yes, other straight couples kiss. Even the students hold hands. I know that. But these people aren’t ready to listen to a sane argument right now, okay? Second? And this one just pains me to even say the words. They are calling it ‘Don’t Say Gay.’ There’s to be no discussion, no mention, not even an allusion to homosexuality at all on school property. None. We don’t discuss it, at all. If it comes up, change the subject and tell the students they need to get that information from their parents or their church. And finally, the third rule. Any student who wishes to withdraw from one of your classes or sports teams may do so at any time this semester, with absolutely zero consequences to their academic record.”

  She stopped talking. I was stunned. We both were. These “rules” were ridiculous.

  “Derek? Luke? I’m so sorry. I really am.” She was sincere in her apology, but not going to bend. I could see that. “This was the best I could do under pressure. Believe me. I tried my hardest. Unfortunately, I’ve been given the task to present these guidelines to you today, and if they are not acceptable, well, honestly, I don’t want to even talk about that part.” She paused. Silence. “Guys? Waddya say? Can we adhere to these until the end of this semester? The school board would like your confirmation of these rules today, in writing, and then we will revisit them before school starts again in the fall.”

  Luke turned to look at me. It was as if I could read his mind, and he knew it. He loved his job. Coaching meant everything to him. I squeezed his hand, and just nodded, once.

  “We’ll sign it, Bammy,” he said, turning back to face her, his jaw still tight. “But I want you to know something. There is no way we’re accepting this quietly. We are going to fight this in every possible legal way we can, and some underhanded ways, as well.”

  “I hope you do fight this,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “I really hope you do. And I will be the first to cheer you on when you win.”

  The rest of the day was as awful as you could imagine. I went straight to my Speech and Communications class, and the first topic the students tried to discuss was the protesters. There were arguments for and against, of course, but I had to stop the discussion before they went any further. Jett was sitting back in his seat, arms behind his head, grinning as if he was on top of the world. One day, kid, you’ll get yours. Trust me.

  I skipped the lunchroom. I didn’t feel like facing my fellow teachers at our communal table, so I ate my sandwich in an empty classroom. Bammy had me so paranoid and freaked out that I was afraid to even find Luke to make sure he was okay. I was worried about him. I was used to putting up with years of absurd hatred from misguided idiots, but this was all new to him. He puts on a brave, strong face, but that man is a sweetheart on the inside, and I was really angry that he had to go through this.

  My Advanced Acting class was the one period I was looking forward to. I had a surprise for them, and I wasn’t sure how they would take it.

  “Hi, kids,” I started as I entered the room. “Settle down. Seats please. I know there’s been a lot of excitement today, but we have lots to do.”

  “Mr. Walter?” One of the boys spoke up. “This is just BS. We want you to know that. We all think this is just stupid.” There was a round of applause and agreements all around.

  I put my hand over my face. Shit. This was hard. When Luke and I made the decision to stand up for who we are we didn’t really take into account the lives that would be affected, outside our respective families. Well, in a way, these kids are my family, too. I was naive to forget that.

  “Thank you,” I responded, quietly. “There’s a lot I’d like to say, of course, but you should know I’ve been restricted in that area. It means a lot to me, your support. It does. So I hope you won’t be upset with me with some news I need to share now.”

  The room was silent. I had their full attention.

  “As you know, the spring play is coming up. I already announced that we are putting on Death of a Salesman, and many of you have been practicing your monologues for the auditions at the end of this week. But I’m sorry to say I’ve had a change of heart. Death is out. We’re doing The Crucible, instead.”

  Changing plans like that had to hurt. I had basically cast the parts for Death of a Salesman in my head, and many of the students already understood what parts they were right for. Some had even begun memorizing lines. But this threw a wrench into their plans. I stood there, unsure of their reactions.

  A hand rose from their seats. “That’s the play about the witch hunt, right?” one of my senior girls asked.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Way to go, Mr. Walter.” A slow burn smile spread across her face. “We’ll show them!”

  Indeed, we will.

  Luke and I met up after school to support each other every night that week. The toll of putting on a brave face during the day was catching up with both of us. He was too stubborn to reach out to Lana and Amber, but I had to agree with him, for now. Everything was too fresh at the moment, and both sides just needed some time to calm down. The protests at school began to subside, although there was still a small but strong showing from the CCCP each morning as we arrived at school, separately. We drove our own cars, now, and barely spoke on campus. Some of our fellow teachers treated us differently, with a palpable lack of respect. I had known Mrs. Powell, the music teacher, since I was fourteen years old. Now, she would barely look at me. It would be hard to explain to an outsider. They still liked us, however we had broken that rule of golden silence. Everything would have been fine if we had just kept it all hidden, as it “should be.”

  I was still spending a few nights a week in my old bedroom at Mom’s place. I pulled the car into my parking spot in the driveway and walked around to the side door entrance, off the porch. Mom was sitting outside reading the Parkville Post, a glass of sweet tea by her side. I plopped down in the chair next to her and she folded her paper and put it down.

  “Well, honey,” she said wearily, “I always said that you knew how to make an entrance. All eyes are on you now, huh? How’s it feel?”

  “Just great, Mom. As I’m sure you can imagine.”

  She reached out and put her hand on my knee. “Just be strong, sweetie. I know you can find your way through this. Heck, if you can handle New York City, I’m sure you can handle Parkville.”

  “I’m not so sure of that,” I said, dejectedly. “I’m kind of outnumbered here. And Parkville doesn’t play fair.”

  “No, they don’t,” she said. “There’s an article in the paper today about Eddie Bellman’s candidacy for mayor. He’s focusing on ‘family values,’ of course. Says he wants to go ahead with Mayor Tazewell’s rezoning plans to clean up the city.”

  “This whole town is crazy. Truly. You have no idea.”

  “Well, I know someone who has your back,” she said. “And I’m pretty sure he can give you some guidance. Why don’t you go talk to your uncle tonight? He’s at his club.”

  This was new territory for me, and I pulled back and gave her a face. Of course my mom knew her brother was gay. She had to. But we had never discussed it, of course.

  “How much exactly do you know about Barry?” I asked, unsure of how much I should say.

  “Oh, sweetie. The two of you, honestly. You both think I just walk around sleepwalking all the time, which I admit isn’t super far off, but I do have eyes. My brother has more jewelry on his dressing table than I do. Heck, I’ve even borrowed some. And Janey’s feet were not that big.”

  I laughed. S
he was right. I needed some guidance, and hopefully Beret was the right woman for the job.

  “But let’s get you fed before you head on out,” she said. “Regardless of what my brother thinks, vodka isn’t a meal, even if you do pair it with tomato juice, a stalk of celery and a handful of olives. How about some pork chops and fried okra?”

  “Oh, Mom, you can make food sound like poetry, you know that?”

  She giggled, and we stood up together and walked into the house, her hand in mine.

  With a belly happily full of Southern love, I drove Willie to the Bears’ Club and parked out back. I didn’t even bother trying to come in through the front, anymore, now that I knew about the red lacquered door that led backstage.

  Beret was onstage singing Cabaret. She was actually singing this time, and not lip-syncing. Her deep voice worked really well for the song. She was dressed in a sparkly black pantsuit, very Liza Minelli, with a short, black, cropped pixie wig. I half expected Belle to follow through on the 1970’s theme and trot out on stage after her dressed as Bianca Jagger on a white horse, but then I remembered she reportedly made that famous entrance semi nude, and the mental image of Bellman naked shuddered me back to reality.

  The crowd watching the show applauded, and Beret announced that it was time for a little cocktail break. She spotted me out of the corner of her smoky eye and then encouraged everyone to go to the bar for some liquid sanity.

  “Well hello, Dolly!” she gushed, grabbing me in her arms as she exited stage right. “What brings you to my neck of the woods tonight?”

  “I was hoping for a little of that liquid sanity, you just mentioned,” I said. “And maybe some advice?”

  “You got it, kid. Scotty?” Taking charge, as usual, she motioned for her trusty stage manager, never far from earshot. “Do be a doll and bring around some cocktails for us, will you? I’m feeling feisty tonight. WWLD?!”

  “WWLD?” he asked.

  “What Would Liza Do, darling! Vodka, of course. Is there anything else? Just tell the bartender. He’ll set us up. My nephew and I will be downstairs in my dressing room.” And off we went, down the rabbit hole.

  Scotty followed soon after with a tray of drinks and lemon drop shooters, and we started right in.

  “So, Dolly. Cheers!” We clinked our glasses.

  “Now tell me,” she asked, getting right to the point, “what the hell were you thinking?”

  “Thanks, Uncle Barry. Just dive right in. No need to sugar coat it, huh?”

  “Well, kid, you really stepped in it this time.” She took a long sip and smirked at me. “I mean, it’s one thing to be gay, it’s another thing to be out and gay. But you’ve gone a step further than most people in this town. You’ve ‘flaunted’ it, proudly, and that just ain’t Southern. They can’t just overlook that.” She could see the look in my eyes. This wasn’t the advice I expected. “Now don’t get mad at me. You know I love you, but there are certain ways of doing things down here that you may have forgotten from your time in the big city.”

  “I know, I know,” I said, “but this is ludicrous. ‘Family values?’ Who are they kidding?”

  “Well, themselves, of course. That’s who,” she said, matter-of-factly. “And their neighbors, their kids, their pastors, their friends. All of them. But that’s part of the game. That’s how we play it down here. Look at Eddie Bellman, for example. He’s running for mayor as a conservative, which of course he is. But that’s just one facet. One façade, shall we say? Here, in this world, he’s Belle, and even though he’s a cross dresser and a stage hog, we all respect his choices, because he doesn’t ‘flaunt’ them out in the real world. Oh, I wish it wasn’t this way. I truly do. I don’t know how to change it. I don’t know how to fix it. I’d say you are doing the right thing, though. It will only take another generation before all of this is just trifle. Nonsense. No one will care, anymore. But someone has to step up and be the trendsetter, and you, my darling nephew, seem to have taken on that role in Parkville. And I’m proud of you. I really am.”

  “Thanks, Beret. A lot of good that does, though.”

  “Now tell me, how are you holding up?” she asked. “And Luke? That poor boy probably doesn’t know what hit him.”

  “I’m fine. I’ve been through this garbage before. But it’s all new to Luke. He’s strong. I have no doubts about that. But he’s not used to being on the losing team.”

  “Well, he takes after his father on that one. Red Walcott never did like losing.” She took another long sip and set her glass down. “Did I ever tell you how Red and I met?”

  “Not really,” I answered. “You just said that you and Janey were friends with Red and Posy for years. But not much else.”

  “We were all in high school together, of course. Red was the big man on campus. Star athlete. I played football, too, but not as well as Red. I had a hell of a kicking leg. Still do!” With that, she extended her black pantsuit clad leg high in the air. “We grew up in this town, so we had known each other, of course, but we were never really close. Eventually, he and Posy and Janey and I began double dating, and we all became good friends. Very good friends. The 1970s were very political, you know. Wars, race relations, lots of inequality. We both had an interest in politics. Red saw it as a possible career, I saw it as a way to affect some positive change. Maybe you get that from me? Anyway, he and I put our heads together and formed the Little Dicks, to support Richard Nixon.”

  “Wait. ‘The Little Dicks?’ You’re kidding me, right?”

  “Beautiful, isn’t it? It was my idea, of course. Stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. See, Dolly, we just have to be a bit more intelligent than our enemies. That’s the difference between ‘flaunting’ and expressing your real intentions, without actually saying them.”

  “I think I’m beginning to understand.”

  “Good.” She finished her cocktail, the remaining ice cubes spinning in her glass. “Nixon was a disaster, of course. Red was angry. He hated being wrong. But he is a man who learns, and you saw that when Luke came out to him. Red came around. He’s conservative, but he’s also definitely compassionate. I’m sure Posy would have felt the same, and Lana will see the light eventually, too.”

  “I need to get Luke and his sister together,” I said. “We have to solve this thing.”

  “That’s a good idea, Dolly. Just don’t forget the liquid refreshments,” she said. “Those Walcotts can lean pretty far to the right, and you’ll need her a little loosened up if you’re going to make any headway. Another round?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  8

  LANA BANANA

  School continued to be as fun-free as you can imagine.

  Jett took every opportunity he could to disrupt my class, and Chip was still being an absolute douche around Luke, but both of us had our hands tied by these stupid rules we had agreed to follow. The kids could drop out of our classes or teams at any time with no repercussions, so why should they behave? It was sanctioned anarchy.

  My Advanced Acting class was enjoying working on The Crucible. They were smart enough to see the parallels between the witch hunt in the play, the McCarthy Communist hearings of the 1950s and the current situation that Luke and I were facing, without me having to say a word. I was really proud of them, again.

  After my talk with Beret, I knew I had to try and get Luke and Lana together, so I pushed him to call her and set something up. He was stubborn, but he agreed that someone needed to take the first step. Yes, we had to stand up for our rights, but family is important, and he needed to try and make some headway with her.

  He gave her a call after school one day, and surprisingly, she answered the phone. She even agreed to let him come over and talk again.

  “What are you going to say?” I asked.

  “I just need to reason with her. We’re family.”

  “Barry suggested a few drinks. Bring a bottle or two with you.”

  “Good idea,” he said. “We can stop
at the liquor store on the way.”

  “Wait. We?” I asked. “You’re not planning on bringing me, are you?”

  “Why not? I need your support, babe. And I want her to get to know you. If we weren’t dating, I wouldn’t be in this situation. I needed to come out publicly. You understand that, but she doesn’t, yet. Our relationship is my whole reason for fighting this ridiculous protest, anyway, and I think if she gets to know you like I have, she’ll understand that.”

  “Luke, I don’t think that’s the best idea. You can’t force me on her. If she’s ever going to accept this, it has to be her idea.”

  “Well, let’s hope a few drinks soften her up, then. Come on. Grab your coat and put on your best Southern charm.”

  Great. Southern charm, I can do. I just hope I don’t end up as another silver souvenir dangling from her bracelet.

  Lana lived out west near her father in a condo that butted right up to the golf course at the Parkville Country Club. An interior designer by trade, she used the club as a sort of office-at-large, since most of her clients were members, anyway. When she wasn’t on site supervising the transformation of a house or office, she was easy to find by the pool, in the restaurant, or at the bar, and always dressed appropriately. Whereas Sun Tzu practiced The Art of War, Lana practiced tennis and yoga, and she used those skills to attract new clients.

  Luke pulled the car into a visitor’s spot, and we stepped out. He didn’t appear visibly nervous, but I sure was. I was skittish enough around his sister in high school. As a teenager I was so quiet and shy that anyone who was considered popular terrified me, regardless of his or her age. Now that I was the gay guy who used his wicked ways to mesmerize her brother into switching teams, I was even more apprehensive about this meeting.

  The doorbell rang, and it was one of those custom chimes that make you say to yourself Oh, God, really? The chime had a familiar singsong to it, but it wasn’t familiar enough to have a title that you could associate with it. It was just an earworm that wouldn’t go away and it was competing with the sound of my heart beating out of my chest. Luke squeezed my hand, but I felt like I couldn’t move. The door swung open.