I look out into the sea of sweaty men in front of me and I think of those gay men who recoil from this, from any embrace of our subculture—the ones who don’t like femmy guys or show-tune queens, who turn up their noses at leathermen or circuit parties or Bette Davis imitations or anything that’s simply “too gay.” They carp over all that’s bad, while acknowledging little of what’s good. I think of the critics, forever standing on the outside, forever observing, never participating, never a part of anything. I think of how strenuously they object to being part of the gay tribe—any gay tribe—and I remember how desperately Anthony wanted the very thing they reject: to be a part of us.
I wish that I could paint a more complete picture of Anthony for you. All those disparate pieces, all those intriguing snippets of his life: that home in Hartford, that basketball hoop, the girlfriends and the football team, the years in prison, the thoughts he must have had late at night staring at the ceiling of his cell, the yearning that led him to me. I wonder how often people come into our lives who impact us greatly and yet remain unknown to us.
Henry’s right: I want to be fully present, fully revealed, to the people in my life. But Anthony will have to remain an unfinished person. I’m sorry about that. I can do no more now than let him go.
“Jeff!”
I turn. It’s Eliot and Oscar, and behind them come Billy and Adam. The extended family.
Anthony once called them cousins.
There are hugs all around, and Eliot holds me out by the shoulders to look at me. “Girl, it has been a long time!” he gushes. “Where have you been?”
“And you never told us you were a writer!” Adam says. “I saw your picture accompanying some article in some magazine, and I said, ‘I know him!’ I was so proud!”
I laugh. Yes, I submitted an article to The Advocate, and yes, they published it: a short piece, part of something longer, something still growing, about finding one’s soul in the middle of three hundred gay men on a dance floor.
“So maybe you’ll write a book someday,” Oscar chimes in.
“Yeah. Maybe I will.”
“A gay book?” Eliot asks. “Like the great gay American novel?”
I shrug. “I can only hope. But yeah, it’ll be gay. I’ll definitely be a gay author.”
They all hoot, pulling me out onto the dance floor.
“I’ve missed you guys,” I say, falling into their embrace. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
I spot Lloyd and Henry and Shane, waving them over as we all move out to dance. “This is my partner,” I say, introducing them to Lloyd. They all coo over him, sizing him up and down appreciatively. “And you know my two very best friends in the world, Henry and Shane.”
Hugs and kisses, lots of hands on chests and grabbing of butts. So maybe the cousins have done a couple bumps of X. But for me at least, the love survives the chemicals. For the moment I feel total bliss. The music mixes into Amber’s “Above the Clouds,” and I get a little emotional.
“I just want you to know,” I say, surprised at how choked up I am, “how very happy I am being with all of you here tonight.” I look over at Henry and Shane and then back at Lloyd, taking his hand. “You are my family. If the past year has taught me anything, it’s that. And how important family is.”
Lloyd kisses me. “That’s very sweet, Cat.”
I look off into the crowd on the dance floor. I see Javitz dancing there. He’s never far away, thank God.
“Seriously,” I say. “I think sometimes we don’t appreciate just how much we all mean to each other.”
“True, true,” Shane agrees.
“And what friendship really means. And how much—”
“Jeff.” Henry’s suddenly in my face. “We all love you, too. But you’re forgetting one thing.”
I look at him.
Henry smiles. “No talking on the dance floor.”
Everybody laughs. Especially me. I throw my arms around Henry, then Shane, and finally Lloyd. “We’re flying above the clouds,” I sing out.
“So beautiful and clear,” Lloyd sings back.
You see, this is my moment. Someday, when they look back and write about these times, I will be able to say that I was here. I danced every dance and knew the words to every song.
I wrap my arms around Lloyd.
I can see everything from here.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to my most wonderfully supportive editor, John Scognamiglio; to my industrious agent, Malaga Baldi; to Shirl Roccapriore and Laura Shabott; and to Tim Huber, my first and best critic.
I enjoy hearing from readers. You can reach me through my Web site, www.williamjmann.com.
About the Author
William J. Mann is best known for his studies of Hollywood and the American film industry, especially Kate: The Woman Who Was Hepburn, named a Notable Book of 2006 by the New York Times, and Hello Gorgeous: Becoming Barbra Streisand, published in 2012. He is also the author of Wisecracker: The Life and Times of William Haines, for which he won the Lambda Literary Award, Behind the Screen: How Gays and Lesbians Shaped Hollywood, Edge of Midnight: The Life of John Schlesinger, and How to Be a Movie Star: Elizabeth Taylor in Hollywood, which Publishers Weekly described as “like gorging on a chocolate sundae.” He is also the author of six novels.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2003 by William J. Mann
Cover design by Mauricio Diaz
ISBN: 978-1-4976-6720-4
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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Where the Boys Are Page 51
