Pride Must Be a Place

by Kevin Craig

  “A new car?” Mr. Tonklin squeals a little too dramatically. There’s a peppering of laughter. I join in. Might as well.

  “You just won yourself a slice of Dark Chocolate Heaven Cake at Elixir!” He lowers his voice like a fine-print radio announcer. “Valid until December 31st. Not redeemable for cash.”

  “Awesome! Thanks, guys. You’re doing a great job. Keep it up!”

  “Thanks, Mr. T. Appreciate the support,” Hank says. But he’s looking at me again now. As Mr. Tonklin walks away, Hank gives the wheel the tiniest of spins so you can hear each individual click as it slowly rotates.

  After getting one of the girls nearby to take his place, Hank abandons the wheel and moves in closer to Marc and me.

  “I’ve been trying to get your attention. Then I heard you talking about Will, so I need to tell you this.”

  “What’s up?” Marc says. He’s already in protective mode. He tenses up and leans closer, like he’s going to snap.

  “I ran into him in the washroom earlier. He looked like he was ready to kill someone. He was making fists and his face was all contorted. When he kicked the garbage can across the room I thought I was done for.”

  “What did he do to you?” Marc is practically foaming at the mouth now. He scans the crowd, looking for Will’s face.

  “No, no,” Hank says. “That’s the thing. Nothing. Thought I was a goner. But he comes right up to me, like, face to face. I’m standing there, cringing, waiting for the first fist to connect, and he says, ‘I’m really sorry about the other day.’ I was, like, ‘What’?”

  “Seriously?” I say. Now I’m even more interested.

  “He apologized?” Marc asks as the tension visibly leaves his body. Attack Mode Off.

  “No shit,” Hank says. “He said sorry and then he turned, picked up the garbage can and put it back where it was supposed to be, and walked out. He didn’t pick up any of the garbage that went flying across the floor with it or anything…but still.”

  “Wow,” I say. “What do you think that means?”

  “What do you think what means?” Nettie asks. She’s been working the crowd, attempting to sway them from other booths over to ours. She’s wearing a rainbow vest and a hat with a spring-loaded plastic rainbow bouncing around on top of it. Both of these were created by her. The only person more into this than Nettie, is possibly my brother.

  “Will,” I say. “I think he may have finally lost it. He’s been casing the booth, or maybe me, and he apologized to Hank about the big fight while freaking out and kicking things around. Sounds like insanity is nigh.”

  “Ooh! Insanity? I love it. Sounds intriguing.” I recognize the voice instantly.

  “Dad,” Marc says.

  “You didn’t think I’d miss this, did you, Marc?” Gary says as he joins our conspiratorial circle. “Sounds like juicy gossip going on here. Care if I get in on it?”

  Gary is wearing his signature costume, with a slight variation to account for the fall weather. The flip flops have made it into the season, along with the bright t-shirt with a message. This one is sunflower yellow with the line, ‘I Poop Rainbows’ emblazoned under a faded unicorn that is actually pooping out a rainbow. The shorts did not make it. Today he’s wearing tight jeans that are somewhere between pink and red. There’s a large tote bag slung over his shoulder.

  “Hello Mr. Tremblay. I’ll leave you guys to talk,” Nettie says, as she heads towards the booth. “Maybe that’s promising news about Will. Fingers crossed.”

  Gary waves to her as she leaves. He sees me admiring his zany shirt.

  “Sweet, right?” he says, all bubbly and light. “I got this puppy sometime before your conception, Ezra Pound. For a Pride parade. I tried to find a unicorn to ride in the parade, but I couldn’t come up with one. Had to settle for this old thing.” He pulls at the t-shirt and smiles. “Next best thing though, right?”

  “It’s awesome,” I say.

  “Why, thank you.”

  “Okay, Dad. What’s up?” Marc has the look of a kid who’s embarrassed that his parent is invading his space, as though he’s afraid his cool level will drop now that Daddy’s here. I think it’s funny. He doesn’t seem like the type to care what others think of him.

  “Your father said to give you space, but you know me. I had to come, Marc. I had to check it out, and you know it.” He takes the bag from his shoulder and presents it to Marc. “Besides, your father and I wanted to surprise you guys with this.”

  Marc looks at me and raises an eyebrow. Obviously, he knows nothing about this surprise either. He takes the tote from his father and looks inside.

  “Whoa.”

  “Whoa is right, sunshine,” Gary says. He laughs. “Your old man is more than just a pretty face.”

  “I love it, Dad. They’re perfect.”

  Marc pulls out a pile of custom-made promo t-shirts. Each shirt is all the colors of the pride flag combined. The Nelson High Rainbow Alliance Club is emblazoned across the front of each one, inside an actual rainbow.

  “Oh my god, Mr. Tremblay. They’re amazing.” I take one from Marc and check it out more closely. They even had the school name added.

  “Just Gary, Ezra. Thought you’d like them,” he says. “When Marc told us you were all going to find random old t-shirts to wear in the colors of the flag, I thought to myself, ‘oh no they’re not.’ I had to do something about that. So, we had those made for the occasion.”

  “Thank you so much,” I say.

  “You can hand them out later. There should be more than enough for everyone. Maybe you can give some away as prizes, too, eh?”

  “Amazing, Dad. Thanks.” Marc actually hugs his father, forgetting his early embarrassment over his presence.

  “My pleasure. You know I love stuff like this, Marc.”

  Gary leaves our huddle and heads toward the wheel. “This wheel is amazing, sweetie. Spectacular. And your booth is the most gorgeous one. The Theatre Arts club’s Wherefore Art Thou, Shakespeare? Booth is pretty tremendous, but you still beat it by a country mile.”

  Sweetie. His Daddy just called him sweetie. I’m enjoying Marc’s squirming. Even though my own parents will be heading here tonight when the events are open to the public. I look around at the crowd here now, though, and there’s not another single parent among them. Parents are supposed to come after school.

  “I really love the t-shirts, Dad. Really. But,” Marc says following his father, “tonight is when parents can come. It’s school hours right now. This is supposed to be for students and teachers only right now. You’re not supposed to—”

  “Oh, that’s cute,” Gary interrupts. “I have a special pass, sweets.” He turns to the girls gathered at the Wheel of Pride and says, “Give her a spin, ladies. Momma’s feeling lucky from her tips to her toes. Let’s see what we can see, shall we?”

  Marc gives up. As the wheel springs into life and drowns out everything around us, he leaves his father’s side. He comes back to our huddle and shrugs his defeat.

  “Okay,” Nettie says, coming back from the booth to join us. “Can we get back on topic, now? That was an awesome segue, guys, but what’s up? Whoa. I mean besides these amazing t-shirts. Gary brought these?”

  Marc blushes. “Yep. They’re very cool, right? But sorry about his exuberance. We gave up trying to control him years ago.”

  “Forgive him?” Nettie says. “He’s my hero.”

  “Dude, you don’t know how lucky you are,” I say. “He’s frigging amazing.”

  “You say that, Ez, and I totally agree with you. But it gets exhausting when you live with it. Sometimes Dad and I’ll leave the room…just to test your Gary Hero. And when we come back he’s still talking.”

  We all laugh. And to punctuate what Marc said, all I can hear in the background now is Gary’s voice. He’s talking to the wheel, telling it where to land, and to the girls, regaling them with some story about a rainbow flag.

  “But, seriously,” Nettie says. “Everyone’s
staying away. Malcolm and I have been walking all over the place, handing out pamphlets and stuff. He’s practically begging people to come to the booth. It’s like they’re afraid to say no to him. They’re all just say maybe, or hmmm, or whatever. And then they walk away and nobody is coming. The rumor was true. Will is making everyone stay away. We worked so hard on this. It’s not fair. I’m going to talk to him.”

  “Wait,” Marc says, grabbing her arm as though he’s afraid she’s going to march away right this second. “Will’s coming around to the idea. He keeps walking by, Net. I don’t know what’s up. Maybe we should just wait and see. Besides, tonight will be different. It’ll be packed here. You’ll get your crowd tonight, for sure.”

  “Okay, I’ll wait. But only for a bit, Marc. I didn’t do all this for parents and the public. It’s for the kids in the school. If they don’t come, we’ve failed.”

  “You can’t look at it that—”

  “No, she’s right,” I say, realizing that she just put into words what I’ve been standing here thinking. “We need students to accept this. That’s what the club’s about. If they don’t accept us, we might as well disband after Homecoming. If we can’t at least start change here, with this, we’re doomed.”

  “I wish Alex were here,” Nettie says.

  “No you don’t, Net. I told you what he’s doing tonight. He’s never going to change. Alex is the solitary member of the Alex Mills Rocks Club. He deserves himself.”

  Gary comes back over, waving a red envelope. He’s all smiles, like he’s holding the Golden Ticket.

  “Well, my job here is done,” he says. “I drained the house and now I must leave before they’re on to my con game. It’s hard to swindle a casino and live to tell about it.”

  “Cute,” Marc says in a way to suggest he’s heard everything Gary has to say a thousand and one times. But we all laugh. We’re all new to the Gary show. We’re still a willing audience.

  “Mr. Tremblay?”

  I guess we’ve all been too busy to notice that Will has made his way back to the booth again. We all appear too shocked to move. It’s not like he could do anything in front of all these people—and on school property—but as I recall his attack on Alex, I can’t help but feel a tinge of terror as he stands before Gary.

  My concern for Gary is tempered, though, by the waves of fear coming off of Will. He stands before Gary, scared out of his tree.

  CHAPTER 36

  “How can I help you?” Gary says. He looks at Will when he asks this, but his gaze lands on us all. He takes in the general looks of discomfort across the board, but holds his tongue for once. He waits for Will to say something.

  I’m dying here.

  “It was me.”

  “I’m sorry, son, but you’re going to have to elaborate.”

  I scan my memory for everything that’s gone down recently, but I can’t come up with an explanation for this statement. Perhaps Will has finally lost it.

  Will takes a step towards Gary and Marc moves to get between them. Marc’s look is so fierce and protective, I hadn’t realized he wasn’t wearing a mask of fear and anxiety like the rest of us. He’s ready to pounce. I’m guessing he would kill to save his father further pain.

  “It was me who called you a faggot at the assembly,” Will says. We all deflate simultaneously. I turn to Nettie as she breathes a sigh of relief. Perhaps we’ve all been holding our breath.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry.” Will just stands there. He delivers the apology eye to eye with Gary, but then he looks down at his feet. He starts to breathe heavily. Then it goes from heavily to broken and hitched. Clearly, he’s doing everything in his power not to cry, not to bawl like a baby in front of us.

  “Child,” Gary half whispers to Will as he gently steers Marc aside and closes the gap between them. “You did not know.”

  Gary takes Will in his arms and hugs him.

  I flinch again, fully prepared for this action to cause Will to snap in anger. But he falls into Gary’s arms and allows himself to be hugged. He begins to cry as he buries his face into Gary’s chest. I’m afraid he’ll never stop crying.

  “There, there, my sweet,” Gary whispers as he continues to hug Will and pet the top of his head. “It’s okay. It’s okay. All is forgiven, young man.”

  The entire run of booths in both directions have crashed to a standstill. Teachers, students, everyone…they’re all watching the story unfold.

  After a few minutes, in which we all just stand there in stunned silence watching them hug, Gary gently releases Will and holds him at an arm’s length. He smiles a smile that tells everyone around us everything is going to be okay. I love this man.

  “I’m going to take a shot in the dark and take a wild guess here. I’m thinking you’re the Will boy who’s been causing a commotion about school. And off school grounds, too. I also know about that. Marc tells his father and me everything.”

  “I am, sir,” Will says. His deflation is so complete he has no will to deceive or lie or make excuses or do anything else.

  “I have within me, young man, a vast multitude of free passes. I hand them out only to those who deserve them, though. I understand you’ve been dealing with a bigger issue than all of this here.” Gary points to our Rainbow Alliance booth, and then swings and points to us. “I’m guessing you’re feeling just about destroyed for life right now, dear boy.”

  Will again breaks into tears. He keeps his hands at his sides, though, and allows the tears to fall where they may. He keeps his gaze glued to Gary.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I think it’s about time maybe someone cut you some slack. Nobody knows how heavy your shoes are right now, Will. I wouldn’t even want to hazard a guess. Those times when our lives have imploded upon us and we have not yet discovered a new way to live, to get by, those times are the hardest times in all the world. I wouldn’t wish those treacherous soul-searching empty times on another living soul.

  “Not even the one who did this to me,” Gary says, drawing his finger across the scar on his face. “But you must know, before I present you with this pass, Will, that this,” he again points to the scar, “this is not as bad as the words that pile up against me in their solid attempts to end my life.”

  I’m surprised by this turn. He was being so incredibly gentle to Will. Even Will is shocked by this statement. He wasn’t expecting it at all, which is probably why Gary went there. He’s good at getting points across and keeping an active audience. He’s really good. We might as well all be back in the auditorium, because for all of us gathered around here, he’s giving yet another speech.

  “Son,” he continues, “a thousand cuts does the job of one word used harshly. Not gonna lie to you to spare your feelings. I suffered the day you used that word on me. I went home filled with elation over the way the assembly went, seriously…I can’t lie and say I was maudlin. I was proud as a peacock.

  “But then in the silence that followed, as the excitement dust fluttered to the ground and left me, there was time to reflect. And do you know what my weary mind chose to reflect upon, Will?”

  “Yes, sir,” Will says. He continues to cry, but he stands firm. He takes his medicine well.

  “Yes, I imagine you do. I was in my garden the next day, pruning my peach roses, and smiling. I thought about Marc and about my husband’s generous offer to support the club, and about the way the kids really seemed to give a shit about what little ole me had to say. And I thought maybe they had a thread of hope with this club. If they could convince three, or two, or even one child to think before they hurl invective…just one, they would have forged a path of change—”

  “Dad,” Marc interrupts. “Maybe we should just—”

  “We’ll do no such thing as just, Marc. Not now. I’m almost finished. I know I talk too much, but this time I’m seeing it through. So be patient.”

  He turns back to Will to deliver the punch line.

  “And then my mind traveled to the rut there
that holds all the hatred I ever faced. Even as I smiled, thinking about how successful the day had been, that word came floating up into the memory. Faggot. It hit me much harder than a knife ever could. I’ll never get used to it.

  “You know what I did, next, Will? I stopped pruning my roses, I’ll tell you that much. I broke down and cried.”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Will said. “I’m sorry.”

  Gary takes him into another short hug, but this one is only fleeting. It’s not the smothering kind he first gave him.

  “It’s okay, son. I think I’ve said enough now. Mine wasn’t to hurt you none, and I hope you understand that. Mine was just to let you know the power of words. When you say them to the likes of me, hell, I’m old. I can maybe take them. I’ve had decades of practice.

  “But these kids here…their battle is young, Will. The words come out sharper when you’re just getting on your feet and discovering who you are. I’ll give you a free pass. But I’ll also ask you not to waste it.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I’m so sorry.”

  “You’ve said sorry enough. I’m not sadistic, son. I’ve heard your sorry and I accept it.”

  I stop to breathe. Things are slowly starting up again. I feel like we’ve just been unlocked from a magic spell. Marc has the same look on his face as he steps back in between Will and Gary.

  “Maybe you should—”

  “Leave? Head home? Scram? Have you had enough of your old father for the day, Marc? I must have utterly destroyed your reputation this time. Was it the poop shirt? Was that just too much?”

  Marc smiles, despite himself. “I love the poop shirt, Dad.”

  Will smirks, and wipes the tears from his face. Finally. He looks at Gary and goes to speak.

  “Ut tut tut,” Gary says. “I hear another sorry coming and I don’t want it. If you don’t know where we live, Will, you ask Marc to spell it out to you one day. If you ever want to talk about anything…you ask him. I’ll be there. You’re just at the beginning of your journey, son, but just know your father will never stop loving you. There’s a way to get back to him. But that way is perhaps far in the future for now. But you’ll get there. You might need a mystical genius to talk things through with. When you realize you’ll never find one, you can come to me.”