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Authors: Marshall Thornton

BOOK: Femme
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Chapter Twenty

 

It was incredibly sweet of Dog to ask me out to the movies. It is incredibly sad that there’s no such thing as a good movie anymore. Of course, I didn’t say that to him. I kept it to myself. My movie collection was entirely pre-twenty-first century. I know this is practically un-American, but I just can’t relate to the problems of a superhero. I suppose I might enjoy that kind of film more if I had a superpower—like being able to kill people with the flick of a limp wrist—but so far that hasn’t happened.

I’d like to see more movies about everyday people. People with problems real people might actually have.
Mildred Pierce,
for example; I’m sure lots of people have sociopathic children who steal their husbands and then murder them.
I Married a Dead Man
is another favorite. An unmarried pregnant woman is in a train crash and misidentified as a newly widowed pregnant woman, who is then taken in by her ‘dead husband’s’ family. Now, that’s what I call realism. The choice between a lifetime of lies and abject poverty—that I can connect with.

Unfortunately, Dog and I were going to see
Roach Man
, which was not based on a comic but was instead a 3-D adaptation of Kafka’s
Metamorphosis
. According to the standee in the lobby it was “the story of a young man who wakes up as an enormous cockroach after ingesting an experimental pesticide. At first, everyone despises his hideous appearance. Then, after he saves his family and the world from an infestation of verminous rats, people begin to accept him.” I only hoped the movie was as heartwarming as the write up.

Oddly enough, Dog seemed convinced I would love the film. I couldn’t imagine what I might have said that would lead him to believe I’d like a film about a bug with superpowers. Not that it really mattered. What I was looking forward to most was sitting next to Dog in the dark. I would have been happy to stay home and fuck all night, but Dog had this idea that we should go on a proper date. I got that he was serious about me, and I was feeling pretty serious about him, too. What he wasn’t quite understanding was that ‘sleazy hookup’ was a quality I was looking for in a boyfriend. After the way we met, I knew that Dog gave great sleazy hookup. I just wanted him to do it more often.

The theater we went to was the Ming’s Mega-Mega Twenty-Eight. Twenty-eight movie theaters in one location. It took five minutes to read the NOW PLAYING board that rose for a story and a half above the box office. Just inside, beyond the box office, was an enormous lobby. It had enough room for a crowd of people going to any of twenty-eight movies
and
a Chevy Camaro. The car, was being raffled off, though, I think the raffle began in 2011. Certainly the car had been sitting there for years. They might have given away other Camaros, I wasn’t sure, but this one, I knew, had been there forever.

We got in line for popcorn and sodas. “I never get popcorn. The prices are absolutely absurd. Five dollars for popcorn? Popcorn and a blow job, maybe.” That made me think of Connie and I shivered.

“Don’t worry, I’m paying,” Dog said. “I know it’s expensive, but it’s, you know, part of the experience.”

“Well, in that case can we have candy, too?”

“Yes, we can have candy.”

I smiled at him ridiculously. We were planning a bite to eat after the movie and then home to fuck. I wondered if I couldn’t convince him to skip the bite to eat. Popcorn and candy would be plenty for me.

“It’s so great to be on a date with you,” I said.

“It’s great to be on a date with you.”

Oh my Gawd! He was smiling at me in the same ridiculous way I was smiling at him. I couldn’t believe it. I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt exactly this way before. I mean, I’d had crushes, infatuations, an obsession or two, but this, this felt real in a way nothing had before.

“Turn around and look the other way,” Dog said suddenly. He was looking across the lobby at a small group of people. “My parents. Turn around.”

I turned around, facing away from the people he’d been looking at. What were we going to do? He didn’t want to see his family, and after what they’d put him through the other night I couldn’t blame him. I mean, it was mainly his dad, but his mom and sister sounded just a little bit off, too. I certainly was not ready to run into them.

I realized then that I’d never actually met anyone’s parents. None of my boyfriends had lasted long enough for that to even be an option. And certainly, I hadn’t been seeing Dog long enough to meet his parents. Thank Gawd he decided to hide from them. Hopefully they were going to a different movie. Once they were in their theater and we were in ours everything would be—

“Dougie! You didn’t say you were going to the movies tonight!” It was a woman’s voice, possibly older. My stomach sank and I was bracing myself to turn around and meet his family when she asked, “Are you here alone?”

“Yeah,” he said.

What the fuck? He was here alone? I couldn’t stop myself. I took my heel and jammed it backward into his calf.

“Ugggh,” I heard him say.

“What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Mom. You know maybe that line over there would be faster.”

“Oh, no, this one’s fine.”

“Why are you here alone on a Friday night?” Another woman, younger. Must be his sister. “Being gay has to be more fun than that. Please tell me it’s more fun than that.”

“See Dora, I told you it was a lonely life.” A man, older.

“What are you seeing, Dougie?” his mom asked.


Roach Man
.”

“So are we!” his sister said.

“What a coincidence,” Dog said. He sounded angry.

“Can I help you?” It took me a moment to realize that the kid behind the counter was trying to sell me popcorn. Popcorn I was no longer interested in.

Finally, I looked at him and said, “Sorry, dear, lost my wallet.” And then I walked away.

 

###

 

I couldn’t believe this was happening. As we walked into the movie theater loaded down with popcorn and candy and sodas, I tried to think of ways to murder my sister. Unfortunately, the police would probably suspect Arthur and, since I couldn’t leave my niece and nephew completely orphaned, I’d end up confessing. Murder was out of the question. I’d just have to find a way to make her life miserable.

I maneuvered myself next to her and whispered, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Going to the movies. Where’s your boyfriend?”

“He’s here somewhere. I can’t believe you did this.”

“I did this? Why did you say you were alone?”

“I’m not ready to introduce Lionel to Dad.”

“So you just walked away from him?”

“Shut up.”

“What are you two whispering about?” my mom asked.

“Nothing,” we said at the same time. We sounded about eleven.

Lionel had to be somewhere in the theater, but every time I looked around to find him I couldn’t. I sent him a text asking where he was, but he hadn’t answered it by the time I had to turn my phone off. During the previews, I realized there wasn’t anything to do except keep an eye out for Lionel and hope for the best.

The movie was actually pretty good. It was the first time I’d ever rooted for vermin, which made it kind of interesting. The rats were disgusting, so it was good that Roach Man squished, pulverized, annihilated and generally destroyed them. Of course, there was a scene right at the end that let us know the rats would be back for
Roach Man 2
.

As soon as the movie ended, I’d say good-bye to my family and find Lionel. Hopefully, he didn’t hate my guts too much. I mean, the fact that my dad was at the movies with me less than a week after finding out I was gay was so much more than I could’ve expected. And I just knew that if he met Lionel this soon, we’d be back at square one. Lionel would be too much for my dad. Way too much. He wouldn’t understand. I wasn’t even sure I understood half the time. And while my mother kept saying my father’s heart was better than we thought, I didn’t think two big shocks in one week would be good for him.

“Well, that was my idea of a movie,” my dad said as we stood in the lobby. “A strong masculine man protecting his family and his community.”

“You didn’t notice the part where his family rejected him because he was different and then, gradually, came to accept him?” my mom said, pointedly.

“Give it a rest, Dora.”

“I thought he had very well-developed abs for an insect,” Maddy said. “What did you think Dougie?”

“It was good,” I said. I was kinda busy looking around for Lionel. Maybe he was hiding in the men’s room. “It made me want to wash my hands.”

“Oh, I know,” said my mom. “I’ve never been so thankful for anti-bacterial soap in my life.”

“I’m going to the men’s room. I’ll see you guys later.”

“We’re going out for ribs. You should come with us,” Maddy said.

“Oh, I, um…”

“You wash your hands, Dougie, we’ll talk about it when you come out.”

There wasn’t anything to do but go to the men’s room, which was on the far side of the lobby. I hoped Lionel was in there so we could make a plan on how to get back to our interrupted date.

Since the movie had just gotten out, there were a couple of men in the rest room, with new ones kept coming in and out. I went to the sink and washed my hands. I didn’t see Lionel anywhere. I tried to look under the two-stall doors to see if he was using one of them. I knew he was wearing a pair of plaid Vans, so it was easy to figure out if he was or wasn’t in a stall. And he wasn’t.

So where was he?

I dried my hands on the sides of my jeans—since all they had were those ineffective blowing machines—and got out my phone to call Lionel. He didn’t answer. The call went directly to voicemail—although at first I wasn’t sure, because he didn’t have the normal kind of ‘Hi this is Lionel please leave a message” message. No, his message was a man with a British accent saying, “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. No more fucking Abba.” And then there was a tone to let me know I could speak. It took me a moment.

“Um, hi, Lionel. Where are you? The movie’s over and I can’t find you. Call me.”

I clicked off. Maybe he just hadn’t turned his phone back on. Maybe he was still in the theater. I would have gone to check, but when I walked out of the men’s room my family was standing about ten feet away waiting for me.

I walked over and before they could say anything I said, “Guys, I’ve got some things to do so I can’t go out with you to eat.”

My mother elbowed my father. Hard.

“Son, we want you to come to dinner with us. In fact, we insist you come to dinner with us.”

Wow. Was my dad coming around? Or at least not hating me as much. I knew I should say no—but I didn’t. And so I abandoned Lionel in the middle of yet another date. Crap. Double crap.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-One

 

“He did it to you
again
?” Carlos screamed when I called to ask for a ride. “He’s such a bastard.”

“His family was there. He freaked.”

“Big deal. My family threatened to have the Mexican Mafia kill me and I didn’t leave anyone in the middle of a date.”

“Were you on a date when they said that?”

“No, but that doesn’t matter. I would never let a death threat get in the way of getting laid.” I actually believed that. “So, you’re not going to forgive him again, are you?”

“No. Never.”

“I think that’s a good idea. There are so many other tunas in the sea.”

“Fish. Fish in the sea.”

“What? A tuna’s not a fish?”

“You’re right, Carlotta, there are a lot of tunas in the sea.”

I couldn’t argue with him. At that particular moment I was sad more than anything else. When it came down to it there wasn’t a whole lot to my relationship with Dog. We’d had sex two times. Two and a half if you count phone sex. Had two aborted dates. And, really, that was it. There wasn’t a lot to be angry about. There was also no reason to keep trying. Obviously, Dog had things to work out.

The only upside to the evening was that I didn’t have to sit through
Roach Man
. Instead, I snuck into a screening of
The Incredible Shrinking Bride
. It was an odd kind of horror comedy about a hundred and twenty-pound bride (played by a ninety-eight pound actress) who wanted to loose ten pounds before her wedding in order to fit into her fantasy wedding dress. Unfortunately, the weight loss medications given to her by a friend who works at a ginormous pharmaceutical company cause her to shrink, and shrink, and shrink. Fortunately, her fiancé loves her deeply and is still willing to marry her, even though by the end of the movie she’s the size of a postage stamp. It was strangely sweet with the catch phrase, “Love is never small.”

It also pointed up the failings in my romance with Dog. I knew in my heart that Dog wouldn’t marry me if I were the size of a postage stamp, and that meant we shouldn’t be together. Of course, if I were actually the size of a postage stamp, I wouldn’t let him marry me. I mean, for one thing our sex life would be incredibly disappointing.

The Incredibly Shrinking Bride
must have gotten out after
Roach Man,
because when I turned my phone back on there was a message from Dog asking where I was and telling me to call. There was also a text.

STUCK HAVING DINNER WITH FAMILY. CAN WE MEET LATER?

Um, no, we can’t meet later
, was my first thought.
Um, no, we can’t meet ever
, was my second. I texted back, LOSE MY PHONE NUMBER.

“Frida needs gas, do you have any money?” Carlos asked. He was wearing his waiter’s gear from The Bird having slipped out to get me during his dinner break.

“How do you not have money for gas? Aren’t you making tips tonight?”

“It’s horrible without you. I do all the work and Andrew gets all the tips.”

“You should pool tips.”

“I brought that up and Andrew said, ‘Only communists pool tips.’” Which was stupid since I had a strong feeling there wasn’t much tipping happening in communist countries.

I took a ten out of my pocket and passed it over to Carlos. “Is it safe to turn her off long enough to fill up?”

“We’ll have to take that chance.” We both started scanning the streets for a gas station. Carlos didn’t let that stop him expressing his opinion. “You know, Lynette, he was the wrong guy for you. Mixed marriages never work.”

“We’re not
that
different.”

“In order to make a relationship work you have to have things in common. You need a man who knows all the lyrics to
Evita
—the Madonna version, and can name at least three Bette Davis movies, and thinks Tim Gunn is the sexiest daddy in America.”

“I don’t want to be with someone exactly like me. Wouldn’t that be boring?”

“I don’t know, Lynette. The boys I see who make it as a couple, well, they’re practically twins. Or father and son if there’s an age difference.”

“I’m not really into incest.”

“Ah, you’re so conservative.”

“Besides, the last thing in the world I need right now is a boyfriend. I’m probably going to lose my job. Two jobs in two weeks. I need to focus on my professional life, not my love life.”

Then I told him the story of Connie. Part way through we found a gas station and Carlos pumped ten bucks of gas into Frida. We got back into the car and he tried to start her up. She moaned in a really distressed way. Then he began speaking to her in Spanish. That must have helped, since the engine turned over.

“Finish your story, Lynette,” he said as we pulled back onto the street.

“Well, she said she wouldn’t tell anyone I was gay if I told people she gives amazing blowjobs. And then today at work, well, I didn’t
say
she gave me a blow job exactly, but I sure let people think she did.”

“Do you think she’s like the girl in the movie?”

“What girl?”

“The one who really liked blowjobs because she had an extra hooha deep down in her throat?”

“I don’t have any reason to believe that there’s anything unusual about Connie’s anatomy.”

“So you think all women have hoohas down there?”

“No, I don’t think that at all. I think she’s a very unhappy alcoholic who is desperate for human affection.”

“Or she just likes giving blow jobs.” Carlos said, shrugging. “But you don’t have anything to worry about. They can’t fire you for being gay. It’s illegal in California. I googled it.”

“They also don’t have to tell you why they’re firing you. I googled that.”

“You mean they can fire you for being gay as long as they don’t tell you they’re firing you for being gay? That’s terrible. Why did we even bother to fight for our rights?”

“Carlotta,
we
didn’t actually do anything.
We
don’t even vote.”

“I don’t have time to be on no jury.”

I promised myself I’d register to vote. Someday. Soon.

We were almost to The Bird when Carlos asked, “What are you going to do if he texts you again?”

“Ignore it.”

“And if he calls you?”

“Won’t answer.”

“And if he knocks on your door?”

“Pretend not to be home.”

“And if you run into him on the street?”

“Jump into the bushes and hide.”

“Good boy.”

 

###

 

Sitting in the center of the outdoor mall’s vast parking lot was a restaurant called the Rib Cage. It was part of the same open-air mall as the movie theater, so my family and I just walked over from the multiplex. The outside was gray and gloomy, looking something like Alcatraz. The inside split the difference between federal prison and cannibal’s dungeon.

The five of us were led to a large round table in the corner. Our waiter was dressed like a prison guard and explained the “rules” to us newbs while giving out menus with the bold heading, LAST MEAL.

We’d all been there before, so it wasn’t hard to decide what we wanted. My dad and I ordered the Maximum Sentence: full slab of ribs, two pieces of chicken, fries and a tiny cup of coleslaw. Maddy had the Parole Denied: a half slab, breast of chicken, fries and a tiny cup of coleslaw. My mom ordered the Solitary Confinement: a half slab of ribs with fries and a tiny cup of coleslaw. And Arthur ordered the Community Service: a chopped chicken salad, but asked that they hold the chicken. Like he did every time we ate with Arthur, my dad muttered something to the effect that he should learn to eat like a man.

“Dad, be nice,” I said under my breath.

“Dougie has been playing softball,” my sister said.

“Why would you keep that a secret?” my dad asked.

“Oh, um, it’s a gay league.”

“A what? Why would—” I think my mother kicked him under the table, since he ended his sentence with an “Ugh.”

“I was on a team, but now I’m playing as a free agent.”

“What happened? Why did you leave your team?” My dad again. He couldn’t resist talking sports, which was why Maddy brought it up. Throwing me a bone, I guess. “Were they that bad?”

“Crappy captain.”

“Why didn’t they ask you to be captain?”

“They might.”

“If they’ve got any sense at all, they will.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Suddenly, my dad went “Ugh” again. He glared at my mother. Then asked, “Are you…um, seeing anyone, Dougie?” The frown on his face was epic.

“Not right now.”

“I didn’t want to ask that. Your mother made me.”

“You want your son to be happy, don’t you?” My mother asked.

“I think he might be happier if we didn’t ask those questions.”

“You guys don’t need to ask me any questions, it’s really okay.”

My dad seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, one that Maddy immediately strangled. “Dougie was on a date tonight, but he just dumped the guy the minute he saw us.”

“What? That’s terrible,” my mom said.

I glared at Maddy. My impulse was to call her a ratfink just like I had when I was eight and she’d tell on me. Which she did a lot. It felt foolish, but I almost did it. Then I realized they were all giving me very disappointed looks. Even my dad.

“Are you ashamed of us, son?” he asked.

“No, I—it was only a second date. And I didn’t feel ready.” Then I very pointedly added, “Despite what some people think.”

“Are you ashamed of your date?” my mother asked.

“No,” I said. God, that was weak. “He’s just different, that’s all.”

“And you didn’t think we’d approve.”

“He didn’t think Dad would approve.”

There was a short pause and then my dad went “Ugh” again. “Oh for God’s sake, Dora. I’m going to have a bruise the size of Catalina.” Then he stood up. “Come with me, son. We’re going for a walk.”

“Oh Dad, we don’t need to do that.”

“If we don’t, your mother will break my ankle. Come on.”

I followed him out of the restaurant. Outside, we stood awkwardly in the parking lot between a Mini Cooper and a Hyundai SUV. I waited for him to say something. It took a little bit for him to warm up.

“Your mother, she reminded me of something…I don’t know that I’ve ever told you this, but back in the nineteen-forties your grandmother wanted to marry a Catholic boy and he wanted to marry her. His family wouldn’t let them get married. My grandparents weren’t too happy about it either. So your grandmother married someone else and they were never what you’d call happy. She never really got over the Catholic boy. It seems like a very foolish thing today. The idea that two young people would let their families interfere with their happiness over religion, and, worse, two religions that are more alike than they are different.”

He cleared his throat and continued, “I always felt bad for my parents.”

“It’s a sad story.”

“Then you understand what I’m saying. Good, we’ll go back inside now.”

“Wait, Dad, what is it you’re saying? Exactly.”

“It doesn’t matter what I think about…the way you are. It doesn’t matter if I’m
ever
comfortable with who you are. Or with who you…um, love. What matters is that you’re happy.”

“Thank you, Dad.”

“When you first think about having kids you think about all the ways they’ll make you happy. But then you have them and you realize it’s much more important to make them happy. That it’s your job to help them learn how to be happy. I may have forgotten that…for a while.”

“It’s all right, Dad.”

He shrugged like none of this mattered. We stood there feeling awkward. I wanted to hug him, but I knew that wasn’t what men—
Wait,
I thought,
I don’t have to follow those rules anymore
. I grabbed my dad and hugged him tight. He put up with it for a few seconds then wiggled away.

“Judas Priest, I’m hungry. How about you?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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