Military Emancipation

by David O. Sullivan

  Marc crawled on the bed and hugged Nick, who seized Marc like a stranded sailor grabs anything that floats. Marc’s brain and tongue failed him, and he said nothing.

  After a few minutes, Nick quieted. “Marc, do you know how to make that text message thing?”

  “Yes, Nick.”

  “Can you text message my son? I have the number.”

  Marc dug his phone from his pocket and stood. “What should I write?”

  “Tell Joey I love him and I’m sorry. Tell him I’m dying, and ask if he can come right away, but only if he truly wants to. I don’t want him to do it out of guilt or obligation. Tell that to him. I’ll stay alive long enough to apologize to him.”

  Marc sent it, and after a few minutes, there was no response.

  A speaker above the bed came alive, and a soft, woman’s voice asked, “Marc, are you there?”

  “Yes.”

  “If you can break free, you’re needed at the nurses’ station.”

  Marc wiped his eyes. “I’ll be right there.” He bent, gave Nick a hug and cheek kiss. “I have to go. I’ll check in later.”

  Nick waved him off, hugged a pillow, and cried.

  At the nurses’ station, Marc called for a chaplain.

  Dr. Wilson approached him. “How did it go? He knows he’s dying, doesn’t he?”

  Marc nodded.

  “You’re taking it real hard. I’m sorry, Marc.” She gripped his forearm with compassion.

  “It’s my job.” He kept himself busy until his cell phone buzzed. He checked the text message from Nick’s son, and Marc rushed to the dying man’s room. “Nick, I got a reply from your Joey. He’s in town, and his plane just landed. Your wife called him yesterday. He’s on his way here.”

  Nick smiled and whimpered. “Thank you. I want one of those orders not to revive me.”

  “I’ll take care of it. Do you want me to call your wife?”

  “No. I’ve put her through enough. She’s mad at me for not staying quiet. I’ve wanted to talk about it for so long, but she always stymied me. Several times, I said we need to bare our hearts to each other, and she always stymied me, damn it! We’re not even friends. What a hell of a way to live.”

  An hour later, Joey arrived. Marc briefed him in thirty seconds and led him to his father’s room. Marc left them in a tearful embrace, with Nick mumbling repeatedly, “I’m sorry.” Nick died an hour later, with Marc holding one hand and Joey the other. They cried.

  In their private backroom, the staff embraced each other. It was always hard to lose someone. Marc filled them in on the estranged son and left out Nick’s coming-out confession. He let the tears flow.

  At the end of the shift, Marc biked home and trudged through the front door. Adam watched TV.

  When he lifted his eyes to Marc, Adam asked, “What’s wrong?”

  Marc threw himself into Adam’s arms and confided the day’s events. Adam took Marc to a quiet dinner and then a long walk on the beach, something that always calmed Marc.

  Marc wanted to say special words to Adam, but his sentiments didn’t make it to his tongue. Too much family and social indoctrination wouldn’t let him say, “I love you,” to another man.

  Chapter 2

  Autumn took deep breaths of relief with the potential demise of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. The recent magazine article on it kept circling her mind.

  Adam, Marc, and she strolled along the sidewalk to Steve’s apartment a block away, carrying food for the birthday party.

  Marc asked her, “Hey, are you okay? You keep sighing. If you don’t want to go to the party, we’ll make excuses for you.”

  “The sighs are joyful. I never thought that idiotic policy would go away, but that article made it seem so likely. I slept great last night.”

  Adam cut in. “It is a big relief for Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell to go away. Imagine, now I have to work to get kicked out of the Navy instead of just because—well, you know.”

  Marc obviously couldn’t help being the spoiler. “Too much politics involved. That’s all the politicians care about. They won’t end Don’t Ask in our lifetimes.”

  With her hands and arms full, Autumn smiled toward Marc. “I’m sorry your patient died yesterday.”

  Marc manufactured a smile. “I guess when I lose another hundred, it won’t affect me.”

  Autumn tried to comfort him. “Right after I became a dentist, I lost a patient. He sat in the chair and suddenly had a massive heart attack. I hadn’t touched his teeth, but I felt terrible.”

  They approached Steve’s apartment. Through the screen door, Steve yelled, “Come on in.”

  The trio made it to the kitchen with their food and drink. Several others were present, and everyone there engaged in banter and chat, and drinking, of course.

  Someone said, “Smells good. Time to eat.”

  Another called, “Not a party without the threesome.”

  That comment made Autumn feel welcomed.

  Carmen, the birthday boy, appeared from the hallway, staring as the trio set the food on the counter, his football-player frame and short-cut hair impressive. The party music was still reasonable.

  Autumn grinned and hugged him, kissing his cheek. “Carm, happy birthday! I made pasta, meatballs, and Italian sausage.”

  In his deep voice, Carm said, “Thanks very much.”

  Marc stepped up. “Hey, happy birthday. I made Chinese Chicken Salad and chocolate cheesecake, because I remember you liked that at other parties.” Marc shook his hand, trying to send sincere energy. Marc still didn’t like the guy much, but like Steve said, he’s a good worker and Navy family.

  Carm nodded. “Uh, thanks.”

  Adam grabbed Carm’s hand. “Happy B-Day, man. I hope it was a really good day for you. Birthdays are special. The three of us pitched in and got some CDs for you. You can open them later.”

  Adam’s kindness and altruistic attitude towards Carmen surprised, but also pleased, Autumn.

  Carm rolled his eyes. “Yeah, thanks.”

  Adam smiled, and maybe it was a smirk. “Carmen, dude, this is your day. Say what’s on your mind.” Adam’s loudness caused others to stare.

  “Fucking faggots,” Carm spit out.

  Autumn moved close, expecting to cut between them before the fight began.

  Adam smiled. “Carm, no need to whisper. You think we’re fucking faggots. While I hate you for that attitude, it’s why I’m in the Navy, to defend your right to feel and say that.” He slipped a quick hug in and turned for beer. All eyes were on him, obviously expecting a much different response. He popped a beer open and handed it to Carmen and took one for himself. “Happy Birthday. I truly wish you well, even though you have zero proof of us being gay because we’re not.”

  Carm sucked at the beer. “You’re always together. I see the way you look at each other and never date women. Plus, you share a bedroom.”

  Autumn stayed on her toes, surprised the fight hadn’t started yet. She kept an eye on Marc.

  Adam smiled. “Carm, do you have a spy cam in our apartment? Do you know what female porn I have on my computer? Do you follow us? Just because we’re not out about private lives doesn’t make us anything. Maybe we have serious girlfriends at home, and we’re being loyal to them. Hell, yes, we’re close. We’re best friends. We share the bedroom because it’s big. We let Autumn move in after her place had a fire, and Marc gave up his room for her. We’re friends with her, too. Do you want to accuse Marc and I of sleeping with her? And besides, why in the hell is our private life so important to you? We do our jobs and stay out of trouble.”

  Carmon seemed to be on the defensive. “I know what I know.” His tone lacked conviction.

  Steve stepped up. “Come on, we’re getting too deep here. You know, Abraham Lincoln slept with male friends. Sharing beds was common for centuries. Do you want to call Lincoln gay? On the other hand, gay and lesbians helped win World War II. Yeah, some were kicked out, but others openly served in an array of assignment
s, including combat roles. We’re all different in various ways. Can’t we all just get along? This is America!”

  Autumn wondered how and why Steve knew that part of gay history and decided it didn’t matter.

  Someone yelled, “Group hug.”

  About twelve people were involved, including Carm. The party fell into full swing, and the attendees took to the food Marc and Autumn and others brought. Accolades followed. Carm had three pieces of cake.

  Later, Autumn wandered to the front yard, where the remaining few partiers were, and listened to Marc and Carmen, both tipsy from booze, telling each other about their jobs and lives. Marc shared the stress of losing a patient. Autumn smiled inwardly. They seemed like friends, rather than two guys who couldn’t stand each other. Carmen told of his childhood and how special birthdays were in his family. He thanked Marc repeatedly for the food and especially the cake.

  * * * *

  Early the following Saturday morning, Marc sat on their king-sized bed as Adam packed his bag. “Adam, is there anything I can help with?”

  “No, thanks.” His tone was flat.

  Marc swallowed at the lump in his throat. “There’s no benefit in you being stressed. It doesn’t make things better.”

  Adam threw some pants against the wall. “Fuck! It’s not fair. My dad has always been healthy. He watched his weight, exercised, never smoked. So why the hell does he need bypass heart surgery?”

  Marc got the thrown jeans, handed them to Adam, and pulled him into a hug. “I can’t explain it, but it does no good for you to be stressed.” He wanted to say it, the words he knew would soothe Adam’s angst. Marc’s tongue again failed him. “I’ll miss you. Call anytime you need to talk. I don’t know what the time difference is.” Maybe some humor would lighten the stress.

  Adam slapped Marc’s ass. “We’re in San Diego, and I’m going home to Portland, duh, that’s in Oregon, same time zone.” He squeezed Marc. “Thanks, I know you’re trying to make me feel better. I love you so much.”

  Marc couldn’t bring himself to verbalize those words to a man. “Thank you. I don’t know if I can sleep with you gone.”

  “Ask Autumn to sleep with you.”

  “Nah, she’s so horny, she might try to have sex with me.” He kissed Adam deep and hard on the lips. “Bypass surgery is so common, the surgeons can do it in their sleep. Your dad’s overall good health will be a huge factor and will just about guarantee success. Millions of families have gotten through this. You and your family can, too. When you get back, I’ll take you to a fancy dinner, to the beach, and zoo.”

  Marc drove Adam to the civilian airport. In the public arena, they could only shake hands as a parting gesture. Back at their apartment, Marc moped around.

  Autumn went to the couch and sat. She patted her lap. “Come sit on Mother Autumn’s knee.”

  Marc sneered.

  “Marc, it does no good for you to tear yourself up inside. Worry doesn’t make things better. Adam and his dad will be fine.” She beckoned him with a hand. He went to her and sat on her lap. She held tight like a mom would. “That’s a good boy. Do you want some milk and cookies?” He chuckled. She went on. “Are you still upset at that patient dying?” He nodded. “Mad because you helped throw a party for the bigot, Carmen?”

  “I think I’m over that. We talked at the end of the party. Steve’s right. Carm has some redeeming qualities, and he didn’t make any gay jokes or comments after the exchange with Adam. No comments about blacks, Jews, or anyone else. He seemed like an adult.”

  She kissed his cheek. “I’m proud of you. Adam will be back before you know it.” Marc stayed silent. “Are you guys having problems that I don’t know about?”

  “I already miss him.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Not problems, but he jokes about maybe in a year or so, if we’re still together, that we can go to one of the states where gay marriage is legal, and we can get married. Like Shakespeare said, ‘in jest there is truth.’ Adam’s said it twice this week.”

  She patted his back. “Okay, you’re too heavy.” He slipped beside her on the couch. “I know you’re not ready for marriage.”

  “Damn, I’m not even gay.” He slapped his leg. “I know, I sleep with my best friend and I don’t date women, but that doesn’t make me gay.”

  “Oh, Marc. If gayness was completely accepted by the military, all of civilian life, and your conservative family, would you be gay then?”

  Marc laughed. “That’s never going to happen.”

  “Think about it, if gay wasn’t a cootie-riddled condition, would you be gay?”

  Marc sighed. “Why are we having this conversation?”

  Autumn raised an eyebrow. “Because my love life is in the toilet, so I’m vicariously living through you and Adam. You’ve got a great thing going, and if you keep your head up your conservative, worryful ass, you’re going to lose that man of yours.”

  Marc smiled. “Worryful?”

  “So I invent words. You know what I mean. You love him. He’s been gone less than an hour, and you’re heartbroken.”

  Marc jumped up. “I don’t want to talk about it. I need a drink.” He strode to the kitchen.

  “A drinking binge will just add calories.”

  Marc still yanked out the half gallon of chocolate milk to drown his sorrows. He poured his first glass.

  Autumn came up behind him. “I’ve never known someone to be addicted to chocolate milk.”

  “Hell of a lot better than booze.”

  “You’re not going to become your father. If I change the subject, may I drink with you?” She put a glass on the table, and he poured for her. They chatted about all kinds of things: childhoods, the world, sports, and work, but nothing gay.

  * * * *

  Late in the afternoon, Marc returned from a long run and turned onto his street. The UPS truck passed him and stopped near his place. He spied the driver, Jeannette, with her snug shirt, tight tits, clinging shorts, and perfect, blonde ponytail. He could see how some guys would have crushes on her. She delivered some packages and returned to her truck as Marc ran up.

  “Hi, Jeannette. Why are you working on Saturday?”

  Her smile lit her face, but fatigue was obvious. “Filling in. Two drivers are off for vacation and injury.” She slapped the hood of her truck as the engine stalled. She jumped in, but it failed to start. Obviously, the battery was on disability, too. “Shit.”

  “Can’t you call?”

  “I just want to go home. It’s the end of the day. I don’t want to wait for a tow truck. It’s been stalling all day. We’re supposed to keep it running when we make stops, but it stalls. Now the battery has quit. Shit.”

  Marc smiled. He loved to lessen the load for others. “Hey, that rhymes, shit and quit.” She smiled. He said, “I’ll drive my SUV over and jump you.” He laughed. “I meant the truck. I respect the institute of marriage.” He glanced at her wedding ring, got his vehicle, and hooked the jumper cables up.

  “Marc, I know I’m safe with you. I’m not married. The ring is like insect repellent to keep guys from hitting on me. I know you wouldn’t disrespect Autumn to hit on me.”

  He shook his head. “Huh?”

  “Autumn. She’s your girlfriend, right?”

  “No, just a roomie.”

  She smiled deep. “Ah, okay, I thought you and she were together, and Adam was the roomie.”

  Marc got nervous at the mention of Adam. “We’re all just roomies. Autumn’s single. When her apartment building had a fire, we invited her to move in.” He needed to change the subject. “Yeah, I can see why you wear a wedding ring. It’s pretty. Do you have a boyfriend?”

  The smile ran away from her face. “Let’s get this thing started, okay?”

  In seconds, the truck roared to life, and Marc disconnected the cables. “Jeannette, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry when I asked about a boyfriend. Obviously, it upset you.”

  She dro
pped her hunched shoulders. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m sensitive because I just came out. I’m tired of playing a role in life that was assigned to me.” The next moment, she laughed. “You should see the look on your face. It’s like I just said there’s no Santa Claus.”

  Marc tried to recover with humor. “There’s no Santa Claus?”

  “Haven’t you ever had anyone come out to you?”

  “It just shocked me. I thought you were married to a guy. You’re so pretty.”

  “Don’t judge a book by its cover; we’re not all dykes. Some lesbians are hot.” She smiled. “And if you’re wondering, I’m not keeping it a secret, although I know some guys will still hit on me. It’s no different than you’re a white guy, I’m a German-American girl, and Autumn’s a black, female dentist. It’s just another fact of life, another spoke on a wheel.”

  Marc was still in shock. “Okay, I get it.”

  Jeannette jumped in her rig and threw her seat belt on. “You’re not put off by gays, are you?”

  He shook his head. “Not in any way. I’m just surprised.”

  “If you and Autumn aren’t a couple, does she date a lot? Like guys?”

  Just as Marc recovered from the shock of Jeannette coming out, he was slapped again with it. “If you’re asking if she’s a lesbian, I can’t tell you that. If word got around, the Navy would kick her out.” He closed his eyes, realizing he’d just outed Autumn.

  Jeannette’s eyes grew large but lit up, and her jaw dropped. She drove off.

  Marc decided the best time to confess was right away. He found Autumn on her bed, reading. “I have to tell you something. I accidentally outed you to the UPS driver.”

  She shouted, “What? Which one?”

  “Jeannette. It was an accident. She asked if you dated guys.” He unburdened himself, hoping for forgiveness.

  A few awkward moments passed, then Autumn jumped on him and squeezed tight. “She’s a girl-lover? She’s gay? Damn! I wished for it, but that wedding ring. Are you sure that’s what she said?”