Titanic Summer

by Russell J. Sanders

  Defeated and confused, I slowly climbed the stairs to my door, no longer looking over my shoulder. If Finn followed me, it was probably because I wanted him to.

  As soon as I stepped inside, Mom leaped up and ran to me. I must have looked like hell because she blurted, “Jacob, have you been drinking?”

  “No,” I said weakly.

  “Then you’re sick. You look terrible. What is it?” She put her hand on my forehead. I brushed it away.

  “I’m fine. Just tired. It’s been a long day. I’ll be okay in the morning.” Then I remembered my driving test. “I have to be. DMV, remember?” At that point, I didn’t give a shit if I got my fucking license. I slogged to my room, the heaviness of events weighing on me.

  This whole summer had sucked. Too much shit had happened. My life was totally out of control. Gay dad. Gay friend. Gay me. Gay, gay, gay….

  In the doorway, I turned back around to Mom.

  “What time’s the rally tomorrow?”

  Chapter 22

  AN HOUR and a half of tossing and turning later, I crept out of the apartment and went to the pool to sit and think. The distant roar of the freeway, the coos of the nesting doves, the click of the crickets all made a perfect soundtrack for walking the maze my life had become.

  It was a dark night—no moon, no stars. Dark, like my life.

  My mind flip-flopped, trying to figure out what I had done wrong. How did he know? Was his gaydar that good? Or had I truly led him on?

  I went back to the beginning. My thoughts swam through each and every moment we had spent together. The other day, right here at the pool, when we’d first met, I’d liked the guy from the get-go. He made me laugh. He was easy to talk to. And yes, he turned me on. But I couldn’t think of anything I’d done except be friendly. I certainly didn’t get a big ol’ hard-on in front of him.

  Then we went shopping the next day. I couldn’t pinpoint anything there I did to give him any ideas. Oh. I remembered—the hug. If I’d broken away. If I’d laid it on the line that guys I know don’t hug. But I liked it.

  Saturday was dinner and the movie. I remembered we had a lot of fun that night. Nothing romantic happened. After all, Alex was there. Did I say something Finn could have picked up on? What had we talked about? I analyzed every word, every gesture at Chuy’s and beyond. Oh my God. All that talk about originals… if there’d be more like him at Lamar… his putting his hand on mine. Am I really that dense?

  Oh shit. My mind boggled into mush. I liked Finn. I wanted to finally come out and be happy. But if I did that, I’d be disgraced. No team. No scholarship. My life would be over before it even began.

  I could wake up Mom and talk to her. I really could do that, but she’d just told me she accepted me. I didn’t want to tell her I’d already screwed up my short, gay life. I needed Dad. He’d understand. But I couldn’t bring myself to punch in his number.

  If only I could talk about this with Mal, but she was incommunicado. And, with my history, I wouldn’t want to listen to her anyway. Especially if I didn’t like what she said. She’d side with him on this. After all, I’d told her I wanted him. I could hear her. “Now you’ve got him. What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation that says Mr. Finn Sawyer invites Mr. Jacob Hardy to a cherry popping ceremony?” I’d heard her preach before. “What are you afraid of? What do you think will happen if you explore a little? Don’t you want to be happy?” Why do I even stay friends with her? Lately, it seemed, we hadn’t agreed on much of anything. But, like I said, I do usually eventually listen to her advice. Not this time, though.

  A guy kissed me, and I split. Big-time. Like a bat out of hell. No, Mal, I don’t want to be happy if it means being outed and getting kicked off my team. I just wish I’d read Finn before it got out of hand.

  At the concert I should have totally picked up Finn was gay there. He liked Doverspike way too much. But did I do anything? I didn’t even particularly like Dylan, his music, or his moves. I didn’t let him know that. But I was just trying to be nice to him because he had gotten the tickets.

  Then came the kiss. It wasn’t so bad. Who am I kidding? I liked it way too much. That’s what made me bolt. I could have stayed and tried to explain to him. I was a chickenshit fraidy-cat.

  That kiss was warm, gentle. The minute our lips locked, I stirred. I wanted him so bad. I wanted to abandon all and just enjoy the moment. Be who I was.

  I shuddered. It made my stomach jump just thinking about it. I felt a strange mixture of wanting Finn, not wanting Finn. But I made up my mind.

  There was no way. I was not about to give up my basketball career. I’d worked too hard. If I wanted to be gay, I’d wait until I was a superstar and do it on the down-low. A pale yellow sun peeked over the horizon. I sat there all night.

  My mind made up, I went back home. I didn’t want to wake Mom, so I slipped quietly back to my room. I got under the covers, clothes still on, and pulled the comforter over my head.

  I hoped I could forget it all, just die and never have to deal with it. I guess my mind wasn’t as made up as I told myself.

  Suddenly, with the sun’s rays spilling through my window, I remembered. The DMV!

  I jumped out of bed. “Mom,” I ran down the hall, pounded on her door. “Get up, we’re gonna be late. That place fills up fast. What if they won’t take me today?”

  She opened the door, fully clothed, lipstick in place. “Calm down. I’m ready.” Then she frowned. “But you’re not. You look like you slept in your clothes.”

  I did—well, I didn’t sleep, but I’d been in them since last night. “Oh shit—I mean oops—I climbed into bed last night without getting undressed. Gimme five, and I’ll be ready.”

  I sprinted down the hall, peeling my clothes along the way. I jumped into the shower, and just under ten minutes later, we were pulling from the parking lot, thoughts still falling all around my head like bowling pins being knocked down and put up again.

  I kept telling myself over and over, calm down. You’ll get through this. I tried desperately to make that my mantra for this ordeal, but I was too keyed up. Thoughts of Finn, kiss, gay, Chan, out rumbled in my brain.

  Wonder of wonders, the DMV was deserted that Monday morning. At least the line for driving tests was. I signed in, and Mom and I sat. Sour acid bubbled in my stomach.

  Finally, a few minute-hours passed, and a little woman with a giant grin approached with a clipboard in hand. “Jacob Elias Hardy?”

  Hearing my full name sounded ominous. Like a death knell. I told myself to get it together.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said as I stood. Stay calm, Jake. You can do this.

  “Ready to become a licensed driver, son?” she asked, brimming with goodwill. I was sure she was trying to put me at ease so I could do my very best. But she hadn’t lived my life in the last twenty-four hours. No way I could ever be at ease, no matter what I told myself.

  We made our way to the car.

  “Back it out of the parking spot, young man, and then I’ll get in.” Someone had pulled in next to my passenger’s side, and there was no way she could get in without my pulling out. I was happy because it gave her a chance to observe my superb backing skills.

  I opened the driver’s side door, got in, adjusted mirrors, and started the ignition. I trembled all over. This was make-or-break time. As I started to push the accelerator, a vision of Finn crossed my mind. The car lurched. The parking brake was on! I should have checked for that, but I was too busy lost in my misery. I cursed inside and released the parking brake. I looked in the rearview mirror, fearing I would see Chan’s face in it. Or Finn’s. Or Coach’s. The examiner was jotting down something on the clipboard.

  I carefully pulled the car from the parking spot, hoping to keep it straight and true. Mom’s car has a rear-vision camera, but I wanted to prove I could do this old school. I kept checking back and forth from the side mirrors to the rearview mirror. I probably looked like I was going to sprain my neck, but I wanted to impress
the examiner if she could see me from outside the car. It felt as if I was being some little old lady, the kind that goes five miles an hour to drive and two miles an hour when she’s backing up. I took a deep breath, but no air would enter my paralyzed lungs. When I was out far enough to make a left turn, the woman got in. She was so tiny that in order to see well through the windshield, she had to adjust the seat.

  “Now, let’s get this party started,” she said. She pointed to the left. “Turn into the lane there and make your way to the exit.”

  I did as I was told. I did the left turn pretty good, but then I lost my nerve. In my mind, Mal spouted, “You’re such a putz, Jake. You should have kissed him back.” And that broke my concentration as I pulled toward the stop sign at the entrance to the lot. I pushed on the gas, felt the car going too fast, braked a bit, then returned to the gas. At the stop sign, I stopped—about six or eight inches past the sign.

  “Make a right and head to the street there.” Again she pointed. The street was a long block away. The DMV was in an office park, and this block had the entire corporate offices of some national company, not to mention their parking garage, between the driver’s license office and the street she’d pointed to.

  I looked down the way to the street, and I saw Finn standing smack dab in the middle at the end. I blinked. He was still there. I shook my head back and forth. I knew this was not happening. He couldn’t and wouldn’t be there, but this vision would not leave. Blindly, I sped up to thirty miles an hour, headed to the next stop sign, trying to obliterate Finn from my thoughts—or maybe trying to run him over. Suddenly, we both flew to the top of the car as I hit a speed bump at full speed. I threw on the brake, giving the examiner another jolt.

  “You okay?” I screamed.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” the woman said, all that Southern sugar vanquished from her voice. “Tell you what. Back up to the entrance to our parking lot. And watch what you’re doing so you don’t kill anybody. This is over. You didn’t check your parking brake, you couldn’t control your speed, you stopped past the stop sign, and you totally ignored the speed bump. I don’t think you’re ready, young man.” My heart broke, bit by bit, with each of her criticisms, and it totally shattered with her final verdict. “Maybe you’ve got a case of the jitters or maybe you need some more road hours, but I’m going to have to fail you today. You can try again in a week.” Her voice sugared up a bit toward the end of her death knell, but she was no longer Miss DMV Congeniality. “Sorry.”

  I kept my eyes glued to the rear-vision camera screen as I slow-paced it back to the DMV. If I’d let myself, I’d have bitten the woman’s head off. But it wasn’t her fault I’d failed. It was mine. No, it was Finn’s. It was Dad’s. It was the fucking gays. All of ’em. All the gay guys in the whole wide shitty world. Why did God make them? Why did he make me?

  I switched off the engine and sat. I didn’t have the will or the energy to do anything else. She handed me a copy of her paperwork. Then she left the car.

  Still I sat, unmoving. I felt, more than heard, a knock on the window. I looked up. There was Mom, a giant smile on her face.

  As I lowered the window, she said, “All over? How does it feel to be a licensed driver?”

  Tears started falling. Big gushes of tears.

  “Oh, Jakie, I’m so sorry,” Mom said. She leaned in and hugged my head to her breast. “You’re a good driver. You were just nervous, baby. You’ll pass it next time.” She released my head, took a tissue from her purse, and handed it to me. “Dry those tears, li’l darlin’. It will be okay. Let me get in, and you can drive us home.”

  “No.”

  A look of concern flashed across her face. “Jacob, we have to go home.”

  “I know,” I said, “but I’m not driving.” I opened the driver’s side door, stepped out, and handed her the keys.

  “If that’s what you want, baby.” She hugged me again, and then I went around the car and got into the passenger seat. But not before readjusting the seat. I cursed the munchkin examiner once again. But it wasn’t her fault. It was mine. I was the one who’d fucked up.

  “You want some breakfast?”

  “I’m not hungry,” I said.

  “You sure? Might cheer you up.”

  “I’m fine.” But I wasn’t fine. And I would never be fine again. Thanks to Finn and the gay thing.

  “If you’re sure you’re not hungry, I’ll drop you home, and I’ll head to the church.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I said without any enthusiasm. My sadness at failing the test morphed into righteous anger. I seethed all the way home. Blaming everyone, everything. My life was a train wreck, and failing that test was the fatal blow.

  Before I left the car, Mom said, “I’ll pick you back up at four. The rally starts at five, and we are going down early to march up to city hall. Pastor arranged for us to park at Genesis Church downtown. We’ll be meeting their group there, so there’ll be strength in numbers.”

  I went into the apartment. Mechanically I poured a glass of OJ, but one sip and I wanted to gag. It was like sipping on vinegar.

  I switched on the TV. Judge Pirro was putting a rude guy who kept talking over her in his place. I sat on the sofa and watched mindless TV for hours… court show after court show, commercials for liability insurance, commercials for “get your college education now,” commercials for “get a technical degree within a year,” commercials for “you could be in a doctor’s office making good pay instead of that dead-end job,” commercials for “have you been injured while working on an offshore rig?” commercials for herbal Viagra. It was just the kind of fare I needed. Concentrate on the crap, Jake. Just concentrate on the crap. And pray there are no commercials for gaydates.com.

  My cell rang just about all day long. I let it all go to voicemail.

  There was a pounding on the door. “Jake, you in there? I need to talk to you.” It was Finn. “You won’t answer my calls. Please come to the door.”

  But I just stayed on the couch, hoping that the volume was low enough that he would figure I wasn’t home and go away. If I had opened that door, there was no telling what I would have done. He was the reason I’d failed that test. If he’d only left me alone. Why didn’t I stay in the apartment that morning instead of heading to the pool?

  About three fifteen, right in the middle of Dr. Phil, I realized that Mom would be home soon. I hauled myself up to take a shower to wash away the filth of the day. I needed to cleanse myself. My failure self. My gay self. I needed to wash myself in Mom’s Lord’s healing waters to prepare for the battle. I would keep men from molesting little girls, if it was the last thing I did. I planned to single-handedly convince people to erase the blight of this ordinance granting rights to queers, this abomination allowing perverts to rape. I would be a one-man army for change. I couldn’t pass a driving test, but I sure as well could kick some transgender butt.

  As I undressed, I pulled my phone from my pocket and glanced at the screen. Ten calls. I didn’t care, but my thumb automatically called up the list. One from Mom, one from Mal, one from the Halifax Grayson Hotel, and seven from Finn.

  I didn’t care what Mom had to say, but I listened, knowing if she picked me up and there was something I was supposed to know and didn’t, there’d be hell to pay. All she said was “I just wanted to check in and tell you again how sorry I am about the license thing. But I guess you’re at the pool. Good for you. See you at four.”

  I also didn’t want to listen to Mal’s rants. But I called up her voicemail anyway. Her message was short. “Let’s agree to disagree on this thing about your dad, huh? At least until we can talk it out without screaming at each other. Bye.”

  I could read between those lines. She was saying, “I can bring you around to my way of thinking.” Well, not this time, Mallory.

  I deleted all of Finn’s messages without listening.

  Finally, I almost deleted Dad’s message. But my life was already so supremely messed up, I figured why no
t pile on another shovel of shit? And in the pitch-black abyss my life was becoming, I actually wanted to hear his voice. I wanted Daddy to tell me everything was okay.

  “Jake-O.” He sounded upbeat, but I could tell it was just an act. “Look, I haven’t heard from you in a while. Did you get my email? Are you and Mal coming? It would mean the world to me and Paulie. He really wants to get to know his new stepson.

  “Oh, I almost forgot. I found something, something I bought a long time ago for you, and then it got lost. I think you’ll like it. I sent it to you. Look for it. I love you, son.”

  The earlier vague thoughts vanished. Stepson? Where does he get off? What? Jakie has two dads now. No, Jakie has no dads now.

  I threw the phone across the room, ripped off the rest of my clothes.

  I stepped right into the shower, not waiting for it to warm up. It stung. It was like icicles sticking me all over. I wanted to feel the pain. I wanted the pain to engulf me, bring me back to life.

  I needed energy. I needed life. I needed power!

  I had a date to kick some fag-loving ass!

  Chapter 23

  MOM CAME in popping with excitement. She was ready for this fight. And so was I. God forgive me, but failing that driving test really did a number on me. I was ready to blame all the gay fathers, all the gay sons, all the gay boyfriends, all the transgenders in the whole of Houston. No way I would put the blame on the one person who earned it.

  “Baby, it’s gonna be stupendous. The phone hasn’t stopped ringing all day. There’s going to be a much larger group than we expected. Word’s gotten out. There are tons of people who called to find out about the march. Not only that, but Eyewitness News is coming. That could mean that all the stations will cover it. Can you believe it? This may be just what we need to stop the mayor’s nonsense. We even have one of the city council members joining us. He’s quite righteously against this ordinance, and he said he’d proudly stand with us. Those were his exact words. We’re going to make ourselves heard, baby.”