The last thing Daddy ever talked about with me was letting Lance stay with us, until we could find out more about his situation at home. Daddy didn’t like the idea of allowing some other man’s runaway child to hide out with us. He didn’t want Lance to go back home, either. He died, though, before he had made a decision.
Although Mama might not have wanted Lance to stay with us, he did. He was in a bad way. But without Daddy, it was up to Mama to say whether or not Lance stayed. Only, she was at a loss, probably too stunned by Daddy’s death to make a decision. Daddy’s death was a shock on all of us. He was sure enough sick, but nobody thought he was going to die on the operating table. He bled to death, like a bicycle tire that has run over too many thorns and is leaking in too many places to repair.
Daddy’s death left me with the farm on my shoulders. But with the help of my older sister May, who can drive a tractor as well as I can, and with Lance there to help me, I figured I could handle the farm and my school work. I had just one more year to go before I graduated. I also had Mama and my two little sisters to worry about. I’m not saying Mama wasn’t capable. I’m sure she could have waitressed in Lordsburg or even bar-tended, but I didn’t want to see that, so I convinced her that May, Lance, and I could run things. As for my two younger sisters, Rita and Trinket, Rita was fifteen when Lance came to live with us and she was dating the Zumwalt boy and would probably marry right out of high school. Trinket (my youngest sister Shawna) was just coming up on thirteen and needed Mama to be home. So Mama didn’t fret over it too much that Lance would be living with us.
So he stayed. Only he was going to be sleeping with me. That’s what Mama didn’t like, but she just didn’t have the strength to resist. Maybe Lance and I were both emotional wrecks, but we fell in love so fast it would make your head spin. It wasn’t but a single day after Daddy died when Mama came home that I finally told her about myself. She accused her brother Uncle Sean of making me ‘that way,’ though it wasn’t true.
It’s not like me to be disrespectful of Mama. But I just knew Lance needed to be loved. As far as all that goes, like I said, it’s turned out all right.
The best thing is Lance sure enough loves me, like I love him. He is the prettiest boy in the school, too. So when school started, everybody wanted to meet him. Girls were saying hi to him, but so were the boys, asking if he was going to play football or track or basketball. Even though he said he liked how friendly everyone was, he was shy and always waited for me by my locker, always had a big smile for me. I saw the girls giggling about him when he passed by, and I teased him about it when we were alone. But he teased back, loosening up more and more, and he would grab my crotch and say, “but girls don’t have one of these.” Or he would kiss me, gobbling my face and leaving it slick and ask if I could do without that if he started dating.
We loved each other so much, every day was a thrill. Every night was heaven. And at school, he always made a beeline for me between classes and walked close to me and talked excitedly about his classes. So I was happier than I had ever been, and sometimes when we were together in the cafeteria or walking down the hall between classes, I ached to just kiss him right there in front of everybody, like the girl and boy couples did. I wanted to hold his hand, and he told me the same thing.
Like I said, he is beautiful, with his sandy-brown hair, his smooth face, which is almost cleared up from the bruises and welts he had when I first laid eyes on him last summer. He has violet colored eyes of such a silky texture that when he’s troubled they turn a violet brown. Like my Uncle Sean, he has soft, pink lips, almost like he’s wearing a light shade of lipstick. He’s also little for his age. I’m already over six feet and muscled from farming and playing football. But even though he’s almost a year older than me, he’s a head shorter and has a small body I can completely wrap my arms around in the bed.
So even though we had known each other for just a couple of months, I started talking about being married with him. We were lying in bed one night, just talking after we made love and weren’t sleepy, yet. I told him about the two guys Uncle Sean and I had seen in Deming at the movie theater, when we saw “Midnight Cowboy.” I told him the two guys wore wedding rings and that I wanted us to get rings, too. At first, Lance just laughed, but after he thought about it, he asked, “you mean like you and me are husband and wife, or something?” kind of giggling and sounding excited about it at the same time.
“No. Like you’re my husband, and I’m your husband. No wife.”
He laughed at that and rolled over and kissed me then snuggled into my chest, and I wrapped my arms around him, and we fell asleep like that.
Then the next day when we met in the cafeteria at school, we continued to talk about being ‘married’ over all the noise around us. We were sitting by ourselves side-by-side and were talking about what our last names would be if we really could get married.
He said, “How about ‘Surnett,’ you know, combining Surfett and Barnett?”
“Or ‘Barfett,’” I said.
Then we both doubled over, howling with laughter.
It wasn’t until I straightened up and wiped the tears from my eyes that I saw heads were turned near us, and I met Dick Lamb’s eyes a few tables away. I was still grinning from ear-to-ear and, when our eyes locked, it was like he was waiting for that as an excuse to come over and talk to me. He was sitting with the rest of the football team, and they were all staring at us. That’s when I noticed that Casey Zumwalt, Rick’s youngest brother, was sitting with the other team members, and I remembered how interested Rick had been in Lance a few night’s before. So when Dick got up and nodded at them and they nodded back, I thought, “Uh, oh,” and recalled how Rick had kind of grinned at me after supper and asked Lance if he had a girlfriend.
So Dick came over and sat down in an empty chair on the other side of Lance. Lance and I were sitting close with our shoulders touching, but when Dick sat down, Lance leaned back and I leaned forward. “What’s up, buddy?” I said to Dick. I couldn’t keep the grin off my face, still thinking how funny ‘Barfett’ was, but Dick was frowning.
“Me and the guys’ve been talking about you,” he said, some of his frown turning into curiosity, and I remembered the day in the showers a couple of years before when he’d asked if I was queer for my Uncle Sean because of how I always wore his dog tags.
“Good things, I hope.” But I knew it wasn’t.
Dick glanced back toward the other guys. Then he leaned in real close like he was going to whisper something, so I had to put my arm around Lance to lean a little closer to Dick.
“Hey, you know I like you,” Dick said. “And I like Lance, too, seeing as how he’s kind of like an orphan and your mother’s taken him in.”
I gave Lance’s shoulder a squeeze and our legs touched under the table. “Yeah? We like you, too, buddy.”
At that he smiled a little. “Well, the guys have been talking, you know? Wondering just what it is between you and Lance. I’ve tried to tell ‘em you’re cool, but some of ‘em think it’s a little queer the way you and Lance—”
“Not that again, Dick! Geez! Don’t you ever give up?” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. At the table of football players, I saw that Casey had a lopsided grin on his face, just like his older brother had grinned the other night. I wasn’t going to go ape-shit on Dick, though, because I figured he was just like me and Lance, only having some hell of a hard time admitting it, and maybe the other guys had put Dick up to it because of how he had been the first to make an issue out of me possibly being queer. And here it was again.
“Well, Will, you have to admit you and Lance act like nobody else exists. Don’t freeze us out. We’re all on the same team.”
“One thing,” I said, raising my voice just a little. “Quit talking about Lance as if he’s not here.”
“It’s okay,” Lance said. I felt his leg shaking a little. He didn’t like the kind of talk Dick was telling us about and neither did I, but I didn’
t know what to do about it.
“Sorry,” Dick said, turning to Lance. “You’re just as involved in this as Will is.” Then back to me: “It’s just you keep giving the wrong impression, Will. Everybody knows you ain’t never had no girlfriend.”
“Who are you, Dear Abby? It’s nobody’s business if you ask me,” I said. I wasn’t about to pretend I even wanted a girlfriend, and I wasn’t going to make any lame excuses, either.
Dick looked troubled. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you, either of you guys.” Then he just got up and headed out of the cafeteria. A moment later, the bell rang and made me jump. I still had my arm around Lance’s shoulder, and I was close enough I could have pecked him on the cheek. I almost did.
“You okay?” I asked. “Does it bother you what Dick says?”
Lance shook his head and turned to me. Our mouths were only about six inches apart, and I could feel his breath on my face. “I love you, Will,” he whispered. “Long as we don’t hold hands or kiss around school, it’s just talk, right?”
“Damn right!” I said, though I knew it was a lot more than just talk. “See you after school? You gonna come watch me practice?”
Lance shook his head and began to gather up his books. We both got up. “I’ve gotta study for my math test, and I’ve got some artwork to do for Mr. Drummond. Posters for the first home game. Meet ya’ at the pickup.”
So, as the days passed, I could feel things beginning to tighten down a little. Still, every day was so fresh and new getting to know Lance, to see that even with some of the guys yacking about us, he wasn’t a pussy about it, which made me proud. I still had that ideal from the two guys I had seen in Deming wearing wedding bands, standing in line at the movies with their arms around each others’ shoulders. Besides, there wasn’t anything specifically ‘queer’ about two guys arm-in-arm.
Talking to Uncle Sean about things like this gave me a little more courage, though it didn’t reduce my fear.
“You’re tough, Will, and your friends won’t believe it.”
“But there’s talk,” I said.
“That’s all it is. Just remember that most of them think queers are effeminate—and you’re surely not a sissy, okay?”
What he said made some sense because, when guys tease each other about being queer, they usually make their voices go high like a girl’s and prance around like a sissy.
Still, it wasn’t easy to relax. It might be “just talk,” as Uncle Sean said, but it was also true.
Every day that I had football practice, and if Lance wasn’t doing anything for art class, he came out to the football field and sat up in the bleachers that lined the east side of our small stadium and watched us. The coach didn’t mind other kids watching, though it was usually girls watching their boyfriends. Most of the guys were on the football team or had basketball practice. So it might have been a little odd for Lance to be just about the only guy there. But it made me feel good, and just like the other guys whose girlfriends were out there, I could show off in front of Lance.
Like I said before, every man’s son for miles around tried to get into athletics at Animas High. But football is the supreme game, and Coach is generous in letting every guy who wants try out for the team. If they can stick with it, he lets them be part of the team in some way. I hadn’t played my freshman year, since I had been so screwed up over Uncle Sean leaving; but this was my third year in football and, just as Dick Lamb had said, I was part of the team. So after the talk started, the only thing I could think of was to not freeze anyone else out because of Lance.
So, one day, I brought him into the locker room when we were all suiting up for practice. It wasn’t as easy to divert the suspicions as it had been that first year in football because, back then, I didn’t have a boyfriend and people like Rick Zumwalt had no idea about me. Most of the guys shook hands with Lance, though a few of them smirked. When Lance stuck out his hand to shake Casey’s, Casey was a real asshole, gripping Lance’s hand so hard I could see the pain on his face. Then, when Casey finally released his grip, he grinned: “Maybe Will ain’t workin’ you hard enough on the farm, there, Lance. You got a grip like a girl.”
So, later, on the field, I deliberately knocked Casey around. Even though I’m a wide receiver and shouldn’t even be making body contact with the line, I found a way to punish him. He got a little punch-drunk, too, which would’ve made me laugh, but I knew he’d meant to embarrass Lance. Coach Grey kept getting on my case that I wasn’t playing my position, but I ignored him. When we were almost finished with practice, I rammed into Casey one last time, knocking him flat on his back, and leaned over him, sweat dripping off my face onto his. When I knew I had his attention, I said, “I guess you must be the runt of your family, there, Casey. It’s as easy to knock you over as it is a sick calf. You get my message?”
“Fuck you, faggot!” Casey wheezed like an old man.
“Just keep your dirty thoughts to yourself. You don’t, and I’ll work you over like this every day.”
I didn’t feel a bit better, though. It’s like my daddy always said: Wanting to get revenge and getting it are two different things; once you have your revenge, you feel ashamed. And I did.
* * *
So, here it is. Maybe I was stupid, now that I think about it. Maybe if I hadn’t got on Casey that day, Rick might not have told Mrs. Collins that Lance and I were sleeping together. I guess that’s what made Mrs. Collins think she could get in my pants to make a man out of me. I know she didn’t really care about me. She just wanted to get my young dick as a kind of trophy. I’m sure refusing her advances made things worse. Who knows, now, who she’s been telling about the incident?
Three
At the Pep Rally
I studied Mama at breakfast, wondering if Margie Collins had said anything to her, yet. But I didn’t think so because she didn’t look bothered about anything. She just looked tired, sitting there in her blue terry-cloth robe at the table with a cup of coffee and smoking a cigarette. She’d beat everyone but me out of bed and had breakfast set out on the counter by the sink. Since things had settled down with Lance living with us, and he and Mama sure enough liked each other, she smiled at him when he came in, just as she did the rest of us. I watched him, too, and decided I had to tell him what happened between me and Margie Collins. Although it was still calm at school, Casey kept smirking at me and had a gleam in his eye, so I figured Casey knew from his brother how Mrs. Collins had tested me and how I had flunked.
I also figured Mrs. Collins was mad about what happened, because her daughter Julie called and said her mother wasn’t going to be coming by today to take Trinket to the bus stop. So as tired as Mama was, she left the kitchen to get dressed so she could take Trinket the near ten miles where the bus for the elementary/middle school passes each morning heading into Hachita.
Rita would be getting a ride with Rick, and I wanted to be long gone before he showed up. But I threw everybody off when I told May I wanted her to come with Lance and me. I had decided May needed to know about things.
“But Kelsey can give me a ride, Will,” she said. “You’re gonna put yourself late. I’m not even showered yet.”
“Call her, May,” I said, “and tell her I’m giving you a ride.” Our eyes met and she nodded, realizing I wasn’t just offering for the heck of it. May had been lucky, now that she had graduated school, to get a job as the assistant girl’s coach. Of course, it wasn’t exactly standard, but in a small school like Animas they sometimes have to waive the rules and hire people from the community to fill some of their needs. Her friend Kelsey Snow, who I had finally figured out was like me and May, usually gave May a ride all the way to Animas, even though Kelsey worked in Hachita at the Hachita Grill. Same thing after work. They usually didn’t get home until well after dark, so I figured they were dating, but May wouldn’t talk to me about it.
Even though Lance and I would be a little late, it didn’t matter today. The high school was having a pep rally to kick o
ff the first football game of the season—a home game. We were playing Lordsburg on our field.
So when we were in the pickup with Lance in the middle and May on the outside, heading into Hachita, I told them what Mrs. Collins had done to me.
Lance was quiet, I guess, trying to take in what I had said, but May screamed in anger and laughed at the same time. “That slut!” she said. “You mean she pulled off her skirt and showed you her bush?”
I wasn’t laughing, and I felt Lance tense up at the news. I could tell he was tense because, even though we didn’t hide our affection in front of May, he held onto my thigh like he was about to fall. I glanced from him to May.
“If bush is what you call it. Yeah, she showed it to me,” I said. “I was so shocked, it wasn’t until she rubbed my crotch that I bolted.”
May’s face, which is splattered with freckles, went red with anger, or maybe embarrassment. No, not embarrassment. Not May. “You should have slapped her face, Will, you know that? An old woman like her? But I knew she had the hots for you just like she did Uncle Sean.”
“That’s what I thought, too,” I told her. “I can’t believe she’d go as far as she did. I’m afraid it’ll ruin things between her and Mama. So I don’t think I should tell Mama.”
Lance Page 3
