Marionette

by T. B. Markinson

“So what if people are gay.” I waved a hand nonchalantly through the air. “It doesn’t bother me one bit. None of my business really.” I looked Minnie in the eyes. “And none of yours.”

  “You see, even Paige is with us.” Karen looked triumphant.

  All three of them were against Minnie, which surprised me somewhat. Tom was a nice guy, but I figured a good ol’ boy would be homophobic. I wasn’t surprised by Karen and Jenna. They were on the basketball team, and half of their teammates were probably dykes. You couldn’t be a female jock and be homophobic in our part of the world.

  “It’s just wrong,” stated Minnie. “According to my church, homosexuality is a sin.”

  “Come on, Audrey. Times have changed. The Bible can’t be taken literally. Why, it even tells people not to eat lobsters.” Tom tried to lighten the mood.

  “Wow, you mean I’m doing something right? I hate lobster,” I declared.

  Tom gave me a sly smile.

  Karen put her hand up to silence me. Humor was not allowed for the moment. “It’s not funny. My brother is gay, and he tried to kill himself—‌” She bolted out of the room in tears.

  The four of us studied each other. From the expressions on everyone’s faces, none of them had known about that; I sure in hell didn’t.

  “I didn’t know,” Minnie whispered as she slid onto her chair.

  “I knew she had a brother,” offered Jenna.

  “One of us should talk to her.” I stated the obvious. None of us knew who was the best emissary to send. “I’m sorry, Audrey. I know you are better at this, but I think you should hang back for now.”

  She nodded numbly.

  “I’m her roommate,” said Jenna, but she stood immobile.

  “I’ll go.” Tom started for the bathroom.

  “I’ll go with you.” I followed hesitantly.

  We found Karen on her bed with a pillow over her head. I sat down on the bed next to her and rubbed her back. Jess did that when I cried. Tom pulled up a chair and sat down next to her. Tenderly, he took her hand and held it.

  No one spoke for several seconds.

  Karen pulled the pillow from her face and seemed taken aback to see Tom and me sitting there. She smiled meekly. “I didn’t mean to break down like that.” She sat up on her bed, wiped her eyes with her sleeve, and then hugged her pillow tightly.

  “It’s okay.” I adjusted my position on the bed so I could face her. “I’m sorry, Karen. I had no idea; otherwise I wouldn’t have joked about the situation.”

  She waved my words away and stifled a sob. “Oh, I wasn’t upset about that. I just get so worked up about this.”

  Tom started to say something, and then stopped.

  “All of these protests for Amendment 2 are driving me insane. So many people don’t know how painful it can be for gay people or for their families.”

  “How’s your brother, Karen?” Tom finally found the words he had been searching for.

  “Oh, he’s doing much better these days. In fact, he speaks to high school students about his experiences. He’s the bravest person I know.”

  I nodded.

  Karen continued. “He…‌did it many years ago. He’s a few years older than me—‌I was an afterthought.” She attempted to giggle, but it stayed in her throat. “Jake was always so protective of me, and brave. When he…” She burst into sobs again.

  Before I knew what to do, Karen leaned against me for a hug. I wrapped my arms around her, and Tom moved to the side of the bed to get closer.

  In between sobs, she revealed more of the story. “He t-took a b-bottle of pills, and the doctors p-pumped his stomach.” She paused to take a deep breath. “My p-parents found him in his room.”

  I heard noises and looked up to see Minnie and Jenna standing by the door, clearly unsure of what to do.

  Karen continued. “The doctors said my parents found him in the nick of time.” She wiped her eyes and pulled away from me, locking eyes on Minnie.

  “Karen, I’m so sorry,” babbled Minnie, rushing over to hug her.

  Jenna followed suit, reluctantly, and Tom and I retreated to the opposite side of the room to give them some space.

  He looked at me with eyes that seemed troubled with the burden of Karen’s account. “Can I take you to dinner tonight?” His words were barely audible.

  I almost burst into laughter. What a time to ask me on a second date. Then I realized he was trying to be supportive. I leaned up against him and he kissed the back of my head.

  “Sure. Let’s wait to make sure everything will be okay.”

  “Of course. They can come if they want.”

  His gesture touched me—‌and made me feel like a shit for playing with the emotions of such a sweet soul. As it turned out, Karen and Jenna had a team meeting that night, and Minnie had a study group to attend, so Tom and I headed out alone. We didn’t talk much, and I was relieved when he suggested a movie afterwards. I needed some quiet time before heading back to my dorm room to deal with everything. Of all the roomies the university could have placed me with, I was stuck with a girl whose brother tried to off himself. Now that the cat was out of the bag, I thought Karen might want to talk about it, and to educate the homophobe, Minnie. I groaned at the thought. I wasn’t in the mood for homosexual education.

  People’s reactions when they find out someone is gay annoy the hell out of me. They usually say something stupid or offensive. I’ve defined three categories. Category one: ignorant, but well meaning. People from this level might say something like, “My cousin who lives in Hawaii is gay. Do you know him?”

  No dumbass, I live thousands of miles away from Hawaii. But you have to be polite to these people, who just don’t know what to say but are trying to be nice.

  Category two: ignorant and insulting. An example is: “How do you know which one of you should take out the trash?”

  Please, are you so stupid that you stick to strict gender roles in your own life? It’s the twentieth century asshole; wake up and smell the equality.

  Category three is the most dangerous. Men often fall into this category. One of their statements follows this logic: “How do you survive without having sex with a man? Don’t you like dick?”

  First, I don’t like dick or dicks of any type. Second, your poor wife or girlfriend. Imagine being stuck with an ass who only assumes the missionary position to satisfy himself and no one else. Monotonous and unimaginative. Sex should be fun for both partners, not just the males. Dick or no dick.

  I don’t go into details with people who ask me that question. I figure they would never understand, because they don’t want to. My orgasms are plentiful and usually multiple. And I never have to fake it. Never. It’s amazing how much joy you can receive when the male ego is not involved.

  I’ve heard Jess handle this question on many occasions. She kills me. She loves to respond with, “Well, I can see in your eyes that you like dick. Be proud.”

  One guy was so stupid that he didn’t get her meaning. When he said, “Hell yeah! Dick pride!” I almost choked to death on my drink. Most guys get defensive and say, “Fuck off, you dyke.”

  One guy even threatened her, but Jess knew the owner of the bar and he got 86’d permanently.

  I never have witty comebacks when jerks confront us when we are out. Once, while driving, someone cut me off in traffic. I went to flip him the bird, but instead I gave him a thumbs up. Jess laughed hysterically and said, “You sure showed him!”

  She’s never been bothered that I’m not overtly confrontational. People can think what they want; I don’t give a crap. Jess tries to educate people, which took some getting used to for me, but everyone is different. I’m learning to accept that.

  I’ll have to remember that lesson when Karen starts her crusade to turn Minnie into a gay-loving Catholic.

  Now, religious people, I don’t get them at all. I can never remember a day when I thought God existed. At times it would be nice—‌easier maybe—‌but I consider that I’m res
ponsible for me. There’s no predestination. No afterlife. This is my one shot, which kinda puts that whole suicide thing into perspective. Maybe if I were more logical, I would have something brilliant to say on the subject. I’m not. I just don’t get religion.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The bandages on my wrists itched. As I made my way to Liddy’s office, I worried about what she’d say. Would she give me time to explain, or would she throw me into a padded room instantly and duct tape my mouth shut so I couldn’t talk my way out of it? It was hard enough hiding the bandages from my roomies.

  Liddy wasn’t in her office, so I sat in the chair, with my backpack on my lap and held it with both arms to hide the bandages. Earlier in the semester, the room had been stifling, but now it was freezing. Didn’t they have any air conditioning or heat in this basement?

  Liddy rushed in, full of apologies.

  After she sat down and issued her third apology, I mumbled, “Don’t worry about it.”

  She shivered. “Aren’t you cold?”

  I was trying to stop my teeth from chattering. “Oh, it’s not that bad in here.”

  “What? It’s as cold as the North Pole. Didn’t you wear a jacket today?”

  I shook my head. The arctic front had taken me by surprise. Yesterday had been pleasant enough, but today I thought my fingers would freeze and fall off.

  “I didn’t check the weather on the news.” I shrugged.

  “You poor thing. Your cheeks are still red from the wind.” She stood up and grabbed her jacket. “Here, put this on.”

  I didn’t know how to refuse, and I was freezing. Carefully, I stood to yank her jacket on without revealing the bandages.

  “Paige!”

  I wasn’t successful.

  “It’s not what you think!” I rushed out of arm’s length, in case she tried to grab me.

  “Why didn’t you call me? You can call me twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. You have all of my numbers.” She moved closer to me and gingerly took my right arm.

  I had to laugh. Liddy was being so sweet and supportive.

  “Don’t laugh. This is serious.”

  “I know. Permanent.”

  That caused her to step back. “Permanent? What?”

  “I got tattoos last night to hide my scars. I’m tired of always wearing long sleeves or freaking out that my roommate will see my arms while I’m asleep.”

  Liddy started laughing hysterically. “Oh, thank God.” She moved back to her chair, still laughing. “By the way, does Jess know to call me if anything does happen?”

  “Trust me, Jess will send a helicopter or jet to get you there.” I wrapped Liddy’s jacket more tightly around me, and settled back into my chair.

  “I think I would like this Jess.”

  I hesitated, unsure how to proceed. “I think you would.”

  “What’s she like?”

  And there it was; she didn’t even give me an option. Of course, I could lie, but both of us would know I was lying.

  “How long have you known?”

  “Flags go up for me when one of my clients plays the pronoun game.”

  “The pronoun game?”

  “When you talk about Jess, you never use any words to suggest Jess’s sex. Jess said this. Jess thinks that. People don’t talk like that unless they are hiding something.”

  “But you are the first one to call me out on it.” I defended myself.

  “Not many people are looking for clues like that. Don’t worry. I doubt that your roommates know. I have a feeling you are good at hiding things.” She gestured to my wrists. “How do they look?”

  I touched one of my arms. “Right now, red and gross. Jess—‌my girlfriend—‌says they’ll heal and they should look normal in a few weeks. Is that better?”

  “A little. Still not natural.” She winked at me. “What are they?”

  I reddened. “Japanese symbols. Jess found some proverbs about strength and the markings of the letters hide my scars completely.”

  Before we had gone to get the tattoos done, Jess had handed me a list of proverbs. The only one that struck me was: Even monkeys fall from trees. It left me in fits of laughter. I let Jess choose the other one: Seven times down, eight times up. I still don’t get it, but not many people can decipher my tattoos, so I can make up shit.

  Liddy looked contemplative. “How many people know?”

  “About my tattoos? I’ve only told you. Jess was with me when I got them. And the tattoo artist.”

  “Very funny, wise guy. I mean about you being gay.” She leaned one elbow on the arm of the chair and adjusted her shirt.

  “I’m pretty sure Jess has figured it out.”

  “I should hope so, if she’s as smart as I think she is, but you’re hedging.” She waggled her pencil at me.

  I sighed. “My friends, Mel and Julia.”

  “Are Mel and Julia dating?”

  I chuckled over that. “No! Julia is in her fifties, and Mel is only a few years older than me.”

  “And you haven’t told your parents, I’m guessing?”

  “Correct.”

  “What would they say?”

  “Say?” I scoffed. “They won’t say anything.” My bitter tone sliced through the air.

  “What do you mean by that?” Her quizzical expression annoyed me.

  “They would have me locked up.”

  “You can’t lock people up for being gay.”

  “Uh-huh. You don’t know my father.”

  “Trust me, Paige. I wouldn’t let that happen.” She flashed me a stern look.

  I crossed my arms. “You don’t know my father.”

  “Is that why you tried to kill yourself?”

  I laughed angrily. “No. I wouldn’t try to kill myself for that. Don’t be ridiculous.” I remembered Karen’s brother and wanted to kick myself. It would have been the perfect explanation, and I hadn’t even thought of that before answering Liddy. Damn!

  She laughed heartily. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. Of course, I would like to learn why you did try to kill yourself.” She sounded hopeful, as if she actually expected me to blurt it out. I had finally confessed I was gay, so why not share all?

  “So would Jess, but I haven’t told her either.”

  Liddy studied me intently. “I think you’ll find I have a lot of patience, Paige. And I’m persistent.”

  “Liddy,”—‌using her first name seemed appropriate—‌“I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I’m still trying to piece together all that shit.” I tore a string of cotton off my shirt; it had been bugging me all day.

  “Why don’t you start at the beginning, and I can help you piece it together.”

  “That’s the problem. I don’t know the beginning. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know when it all started. Why? Who the fuck knows? My entire life has been filled with secrets. What happened, and why—‌it all baffles me. I just don’t know. And I don’t know how to figure it out.”

  Liddy stood and then kneeled down next to me. At first, I didn’t know why, and then I realized I was crying. No, I was sobbing—‌complete and total floodworks. Snot gushed from my nose. Tears poured out of my eyes as if from a pipe that had no stopper.

  I tried to speak. “I-I-I…‌s-s-s-o tired of lies!”

  Liddy held me tight. Maybe it was a victory for her: to get me to break down, finally. It’s a cynical thought, I know, but that’s me. Fortunately, Liddy didn’t try to force me to talk. It was useless for me to try anyway. After several minutes, we walked to the café and ordered coffees. The warmth of the liquid as it cascaded down my throat was almost orgasmic. I’ve always hated being cold. Liddy seemed perfectly content to sit in silence and let me gather myself. Besides, she knew that I had promised Jess. I would be back in her office next week, no matter what. Is there a cure for cynicism?

  * * *

  Later that night, I stood outside a frat house freezing my ass off because I couldn’t stand the scene inside. So many drunk
s. Images of Alex danced in front of my eyes, taunting me to end it all. Why hadn’t I listened to her that night? If I had, she’d still be alive.

  “Paige, have you seen Karen?”

  I turned just in time to catch Minnie, who had tripped over a tree root and was about to knock us both to the ground. After righting her, I asked, “No, why?”

  “I want to go home.” She swayed. Maybe the tree root hadn’t tripped her after all. Her eyes resembled a field of wet poppies: red, droopy, and glistening.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah…‌I just don’t want to be here anymore.”

  Her breath was foul, causing me to turn away.

  “Okay. I’ll go find her.” I sat her down on a tree stump. When I turned around, I noticed Karen stroll out with some dude who was in one of my classes. She was just as inebriated as Minnie, if not more. I could see the muscles straining in the guy’s arm and shoulder as he supported her.

  “There you are. Audrey and I are ready to go.”

  Karen nodded.

  “So come on,” I motioned with my hand for her to follow me.

  She didn’t budge.

  “Come on!” I gestured again and gave an encouraging smile, as if I were calling a puppy.

  “But it’s early, I don’t want to go.” She moved her left arm up and squinted one eye to see her watch, in the process whacking the guy in the face and spilling his beer all over him, which caused her to go into paroxysms of laughter.

  I hated drunken laughter. It sounded fake.

  “Karen, I know it’s early, but both of us are tired.” I gestured to Minnie, so Karen would understand that she was upset. “Come on, now. Let’s go.”

  “I can take her home,” said the guy dripping in beer.

  “And which home are you referring to?” I asked coldly.

  Karen tilted her head to hear his response.

  “Karen, come on, let’s go.” Minnie sounded firm, and desperate. She tugged on Karen’s arm ineffectually, since she was still sitting on the stump.

  “But—‌”

  The guy cut Karen off. “Paige, I promise, I’ll take her home.”

  Feeling helpless, I looked at Minnie. She wasn’t going to last much longer before the waterworks hit. Some people are sad drunks.