A Question of Manhood

by Robin Reardon

  “There was someone else involved, you know. I mean, involved in a good way. Someone who did get hurt.”

  “So the dog got him? Bad?”

  I stood up. “Do you care?”

  Kevin shrugged and looked uncomfortable. “Look, Paul, I didn’t want any of that to happen, y’know. I was with you, man. Trying to back Marty down. He just wouldn’t do it.”

  “And you peeled off with him, leaving JJ and me in the lion’s den. You’re a real pal, Kevin.”

  His voice got kind of squeaky. “Look, man, I’m sorry about that. It was just that…aw, shit, I don’t know what it was.”

  “I do. It’s called cowardice. You were afraid of the dog, you were afraid of getting caught. And you’re afraid of Marty.” He turned away from me but didn’t move off. “Are you always gonna be afraid of Marty?”

  He wheeled back. “Aren’t you? I didn’t see you telling him off!”

  “You didn’t see me run away with him, either. And if he were here right now I’d tell him a thing or two. And if JJ had lost more than a chunk of his left hand, I’d have gone to the police. He’s a menace, Kevin. Dump him. Or go down with him.”

  After another few seconds of shrinking into his own shoulders he asked, “So JJ’s all right then? Mostly?”

  “Mostly.” I decided to take a chance. See if Kevin had anything salvageable in him. See if maybe he could be recovered. “He’s doing inventory in the stockroom. Maybe if you pay him a quarter he’ll let you see his stitches.”

  I bent back over my task to give Kevin some space to make his decision in. It felt really good to see him head toward the stockroom. I knew he was going in to apologize, or at least to approximate that intention.

  Before I fell asleep that night, I thought again about taking JJ’s hand over the picnic table. And about sitting with him to wait for his mom, when he’d leaned against me. If anyone had told me even a week earlier that those things wouldn’t creep me out, I’d have thought they were nuts. But they didn’t. They didn’t creep me out at all.

  In the darkness over my head, it seemed like that Border collie was there, mouth open in a grin. “See?” he said, tongue dangling wetly out of his mouth. “When you’re not afraid of something, you don’t have to strike out at it.”

  I blinked at him. “Are you telling me I was afraid of JJ?”

  “Weren’t you? Weren’t you afraid to touch him? To have Marty even threaten to paint you with the same brush?”

  Marty. “Are you telling me that Marty is afraid of JJ?”

  “Terrified.”

  I grinned back at the dog. He was right. Just like Dante, and the tattooed guy, Marty was aggressive toward things he feared. Which seems to be life in general, but—for Marty, anyway—JJ in particular, and what he represented.

  The dog asked, “So, are you still afraid of Chris?”

  “That’s different.”

  “Why?”

  Why? Why was it different? I wasn’t afraid of Chris, anyway; the dog was wrong about that. Okay, I hadn’t wanted Chris to touch me just after he’d told me about himself. But that wasn’t what I felt the strongest about. To the dog, I said, “Chris betrayed me. He lied to me, in effect, anyway. He made me think things about him that weren’t true, and he hid what was real.”

  “He hid the part he knew you’d hate. And why do you suppose he did that? Do you think maybe he couldn’t trust you to still love him?”

  I opened my mouth to shout I do so still love him! But nothing came out.

  I rolled my face into the pillow and refused to talk to the dog any longer. I do love Chris. I do. I really do. He’s my brother, and I love him. I hate that he never told me. I hate that he didn’t trust me until it was too late. Until I didn’t have time to get used to things. But I don’t hate him.

  My date with Laura was beyond great. I was such a gentleman, parking the car and going in to chat with her folks for a few minutes, which included a brief visit with Truffles as well, and some glory moments as Mrs. Holmes told her husband how marvelous I was with dogs.

  I didn’t try any funny stuff with Laura during the movie like I had with Jenny, though I did take her hand at one point. She let me hold it for a few minutes, which I took to mean that I could have a good-night kiss.

  I got several. And thanks to all my experience with Jenny, and to the fact that I’m not some kid who’s still tying his sweatshirt around his waist with the sleeves hanging in front to hide any unintentional activity, I was able to keep everything within the bounds of what I thought she’d approve of, with just a hint that there was more where that came from. And she agreed to see me again.

  So on Sunday I made it a point to talk to JJ and thank him for setting me up the day we worked with Truffles. He asked about the date, and I told him it had been fantastic and would, I hoped, be the first of many.

  JJ walked Dante with me late in the afternoon. At first I wasn’t sure why; he had to keep his hand in a sling when he walked so it wouldn’t just dangle, and at first it didn’t even seem like he wanted to talk. But eventually he did.

  “That’s really great about Laura, Paul. I get the sense you’ve liked her for a while.”

  “Yuh. Like, over a year. I almost had a date with her last November, but then my brother came home at the wrong time and Mom made me stay home the whole time he was with us.”

  “Doesn’t sound like you lost any serious ground. With Laura, I mean.” Didn’t seem to be much to say to that, so we took a few blocks in silence, except for a couple of times Dante tried to act up a little. Then JJ said, “This, um, this may be a little weird for you, and if you think so that’s okay. But if you’d like to meet my friend, he’s picking me up after work.”

  I tried stalling for time. “What’s his name?”

  “Ben. He’s a freshman in the College of Humanities at Carnegie Mellon. He wants to be a social worker.”

  Okay, that was more than I’d asked. But I was still stalling. “Won’t get to see much of him if you’re at Cornell. That’s gotta be…”

  “It’s about a six-hour car ride. We’ll see how it goes.”

  Which I took to mean it probably wouldn’t go very well, in terms of staying together. We walked along in more silence, and it occurred to me that maybe I could get used to the idea of JJ being gay. Maybe not even notice it, like I barely noticed my dad’s limp anymore. We were almost back to the store when I finally said, “Anyway, sure. I’d like to meet him. You met Laura, after all, right?”

  He beamed at me. “Right.”

  So I was settling Dante down for the night, and everyone else but Carol had left, when there was a rap on the stockroom door; someone was outside in the back. Dante growled just for a second, and I hushed him. When I opened the door, there was a guy who looked like he must have been the one who kissed JJ that day.

  “You Ben?” I asked, thinking he didn’t look gay, particularly. But then, I wouldn’t have thought Chris did, either.

  “Ben Sanborn.” He held out his hand; second homosexual hand I’d shaken in only a few days. “You’re Paul?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s great to meet you. Sorry to intrude back here, but the front door was locked already. I got here a little later than I’d hoped.”

  I heard JJ’s voice behind me. “Looks like you two have met already. I saw your car, Ben. I figured you’d come around the back. I’m about ready to leave.”

  “Not so fast, there. I was kind of hoping I could meet this famous dog, too. Will you introduce us, please?”

  For the first time since Ben had knocked, it occurred to me that Dante hadn’t growled or anything. If that had been Marty, Dante would have been on his feet, making threatening noises. But with Ben? Nothing.

  JJ walked toward the dog and Ben followed, not looking at Dante. Well schooled, evidently. JJ said, “This is a pop quiz, Paul. What are we doing right now?”

  I almost chuckled. Teaching, even now. “You’re letting him know you accept Ben, and you’re letting D
ante sniff and see who he is.”

  JJ smiled at me and then at Ben. “He’s a good student.”

  “I can see that.”

  Eventually Ben and Dante got to the touching stage, and the dog let Ben scratch behind his ears, not that there was much left of one of them.

  “This the ear Cain consumed?” Ben asked.

  “It’s healed pretty well, hasn’t it?”

  I said, “So you know the canine warrior, I guess. I’m not sure I ever want to see him again!”

  JJ laughed. “Too bad. You will, if you work with my mom on Geronimo. She told me to ask if you wanted to. She’ll probably use Cain to help socialize the Rottie.”

  Ben turned to me. “Do you think you’ll do that? What a challenge, and what an experience. JJ will be so jealous he can’t be a part of that.”

  The two of them hadn’t touched since Ben had arrived, but now Ben crooked his arm around JJ’s neck and pulled their heads together. They didn’t kiss or anything, but the affection was obvious.

  At that moment, the door from inside the store opened and Dad walked in. Everyone froze. The tension was so intense that Dante felt it and made some noise that was half-whine, half-growl. What the hell was Dad doing here, anyway? On Sunday afternoon?

  JJ recovered first. “Ben Sanborn, this is the store owner and Paul’s father, Mr. Landon.” Ben stepped toward my dad, who was still just inside the door, and extended his hand. Dad looked at it, and at first I didn’t think he was going to take it, but Ben was just standing there holding it out like he wasn’t going anywhere. If my dad was going to refuse the handshake, he was gonna have to make it real obvious. Finally he took Ben’s hand, but he let it go as soon as he could.

  Again, JJ was the one who spoke. “We’d better get going. See you tomorrow, Mr. Landon.” He and Ben threaded their way past me and out the back door.

  Dante and I were still holding our breath when Dad said, “Like hell you will.” Quiet. Under his breath, almost. Almost a growl. He stared at the now-closed door.

  I was trying to make sense out of what I was feeling. I mean, JJ being gay was a piece of information I’d been holding myself back from telling Dad most of the summer. Sometimes it had been a major effort. But now? Now I didn’t want him to know. I didn’t want him to do or say any of the things I had once wanted him to do and say.

  Dad turned to me. “Was that what I think it was?”

  How the hell do I respond to that? “What do you mean?”

  Still looking at me, Dad pointed his whole arm at the door. His voice louder now, he said, “Is that boy a faggot?”

  JJ had reacted very badly the one time I’d used that word in his hearing. And now, to my ears, it sounded like an insult he didn’t deserve. I could answer Dad’s question. I knew the answer. I didn’t want to answer. “What difference would it make if he were?”

  “What difference? What kind of a dumb-ass question is that?” Louder still now. “I will not have a homosexual working in my store! Do you hear me? Now, tell me if you knew this about him!”

  I couldn’t have said whether my father reminded me more of Marty Kaufman or of Geronimo at that moment. Maybe somewhere between the two. Ranting and railing away at something that was absolutely no threat to him, shouting at me, showing aggression that had fear underneath it. Just like the Border collie had said.

  “What are you afraid of?”

  “WHAT?”

  It was an effort, but I kept my voice at somewhere near normal pitch. “You look terrified.”

  That floored him, briefly. He blinked stupidly a few times and then marched, limped, right at me. I think he expected me to back away. I didn’t. “I’ll show you how terrified I am,” he growled at me. “Now tell me what you know.” Dad was Dante, pacing, the first day I saw him. And I was JJ. Not moving. Standing right in his path, and not moving.

  It’s amazing how fast your mind moves. Only split seconds went by, and yet so many things bounced around in my head. Like, Maybe I’m standing up to Dad like JJ had stood up to Dante, but JJ is a dog expert. Like, Maybe I don’t like how Dad is reacting, but my own reactions to JJ have been nothing to brag about so far. I almost said, What would be so bad if Chris were gay? I came so close.

  Instead, I said, “What would be so bad if JJ were gay?”

  Dad made some loud noise of disgust and headed toward the office. “Carol is waiting. We’ll talk about this later.”

  I watched him go and then followed. I hung around outside the office door, just out of sight. Carol’s voice said, “It’s over a hundred dollars this time. This is the most that’s been gone all summer.”

  I heard papers being flipped, nondescript sounds, and then Dad said, “I know who’s been doing it. I’ll be firing him tomorrow.”

  Is he going to fire JJ for the missing money? He knows as well as I do who took it! I stepped into the doorway. “You can’t do this! JJ isn’t the one who’s stealing.”

  They both looked at me. Then Dad reached for the door and tried to shut it, but I held it open. Dad said, “This doesn’t concern you, Paul.”

  I was shouting now. “It does! It does concern me. That kid saved my ass, and you can’t fire him for just being who he is!”

  “Carol?” Dad said. “Why don’t you go home. Thanks for calling me tonight; you did the right thing.”

  She made her way to the door, looking as nervous as I felt. I hoped I was hiding it better. As soon as I heard the door handle click into place, I said, “Dad, you can’t do this.”

  “Be quiet and listen to me. I know JJ is not stealing.”

  “Then why are you going to fire him?”

  Honest to God, I could not make any sense out of the expression on his face. Maybe profound sadness? He almost looked like he was going to cry. He sat down heavily into his chair and dropped his head into his hands. I stood watching him, hearing the wall clock tick the seconds by. Finally he looked up at me. “For your sake.”

  I’d have bet the expression on my own face was pretty inscrutable at this point. I reached for a chair, too, and plunked myself down into it. “What?”

  “Did you know he was gay?”

  I could feel my brain scrambling desperately for some way to answer that without feeling like I was ratting on JJ. My eyes bounced around the room, my hands raised and fell a couple of times. I’d wanted to say this all summer! But now…I took a shaky breath. “Yes.”

  “How long have you known?”

  “Pretty much since he got here.”

  “How?”

  “What?”

  “How did you find out?” It sounded like someone else’s voice. So quiet, so tentative.

  I shrugged uncomfortably. “Marty pointed it out to me, and sometime later I asked JJ.”

  Dad’s turn to take a shaky breath. “So he never…he never did anything? To you?”

  “Good God, Dad! No! Of course not. Why would you think that of him?”

  Dad rubbed his face. “I’d never forgive myself if I put you in harm’s way.”

  This made no sense to me. “You put Chris in harm’s way.” Shit.

  “What did you say?”

  It was now or never. I’d brought him up, now let me finish him off. “Chris was gay, Dad.” I expected explosions. I expected earthquakes. I expected to have to run for my life. What I didn’t expect was what he said.

  “How did you know?”

  How did I know? That’s very different from “How do you know?” or “What the hell are you talking about?” In a kind of daze, I said, “He told me. The night before he went back, last November. But…did you know? And does Mom?”

  “Yes.” He sat back in his chair, hands resting limply on the desk. “Why do you think I was trying so hard to make a man out of him?” I could feel my face kind of scrunching up with effort, trying to understand what was going on. In the end I just shook my head, a slow boil starting in my guts as it dawned on me what I’d been through in the last several months to keep from Dad information he already h
ad.

  He went on. “I’ve known, but hoped I could change things, since Chris was eleven. I caught him doing stuff with another boy—some redheaded kid—that I wouldn’t even have wanted him doing with a girl at that age. And I used the belt on him for the first and only time.”

  “I remember that.”

  “You may also remember how he reacted.”

  “I do. And I know what Mom threatened.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a breath. “You told me once that I should have died instead of him. And I told you I’d been wishing that, too. Remember?” He waited for my nod. “The army was the only way I could think of to fix things. I still don’t know what went wrong, why he ended up like that. For a while I thought it was because your mother babied him, but now I’m not so sure. Because I thought the way she treated him was what made him weak and afraid of things, and that’s how I picture—those people. But when JJ works with those dogs, he’s not weak. He’s not afraid.” He looked around the room and then back at me. “I would never have thought JJ was gay.”

  “What makes a man a man, Dad?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. What is it?” He blubbered something incoherent, so I gave him a hint. “Is a man brave and strong? Does he live up to his commitments and keep his promises? Does he save lives? Is a hero a man? Because Chris was all those things.”

  “So it didn’t help.”

  “What didn’t help?”

  “Being in the army.”

  I almost snorted. “You know, he found a…I don’t know what he’d call it. Another man in his own squad. They were in love.” Again with the face rubbing. “He thought you didn’t know about him. He begged me not to tell you.” My teeth ground together.

  Now Dad bent his head onto his arms on the desk, and if it had been anyone else I might have thought he was crying. I didn’t know what to say, so I just waited him out. It was painful; I’d been tortured for months, wanting to tell him, not wanting to tell him. Wanting to preserve Chris’s image, desperate to destroy it so mine could improve.

  Finally he sat up and looked at me. “I never let on to him that I knew. That felt important. I guess I felt that if I said the word, or if I confronted him, that would make it real. It would give him something to throw at me.”