Did you catch Monday's blog featuring David McLeod's story, Pilots? This novella-length contemporary story has such a wide variety of characters and short stories within the storyline that you are learning new things about them all the time, which is a great way of catching the readers' interest when the theme is a newly started community GSA. Of course, it won't go smooth for them because when in life--or fiction--does that happen when such a varied group comes together? Case in point....

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“There are three rules.” He paused and looked at the papers he held. “Yeah, rules. First, just because you’re here doesn’t mean you’re lesbian, gay, bi-sexual, or transgendered. It could mean that you’re a friend—”

“Or an Evangelical spying on us,” the girl named Lucy interjected.

“Lucile, if you interrupt once more, we’re going home.” The woman’s voice was sharp.

“Yes, Mama.” Lucy crossed her arms and pouted. It was a cute pout, and it was pretty obvious she didn’t mean it.

Larry looked at his papers, again. “Thank you, ma’am. Anyway, Rule One is, don’t jump to conclusions, and don’t even think about outing anybody. If you do, you’re out—out of the club and, as far as I’m concerned, out of polite society. You’re shunned.

“Rule Two: we are tolerant, and we don’t use hateful language. Don’t call anyone by any hurtful words. If you want to out yourself and say you’re queer or whatever, that’s okay.

“Rule Three: If you’re under age, don’t say your last name and don’t tell anyone your address, phone number, email, or anything else. Okay?

“Speaking of names, how about introductions? I’m Larry, and I’m gay.”

Well, given that he was leading the meeting, and had a rainbow pin on his shirt pocket, you probably could have guessed that. It was about the only reason anyone would have guessed. Neither Larry nor I are anything like stereotypical. In fact, we’re both so non-stereotypical, it was something of a miracle that we’d ever gotten together. We are both athletic and do some intramural sports, but we aren’t jocks. We’re in the school’s flight training class and the flying club, along with about 60 others. We mostly wear blue jeans and T-shirts, just like 90% of the guys in school. And, like 90% of the guys, you’d describe us as clean cut. The other 10% included some Goth-wannabes, a few emos with heavy-duty bangs, and two Hasidic Jewish boys.

Anyway, the colors of Larry’s rainbow pin were bright. He wasn’t the only person in the back room of the coffee house wearing a rainbow: I had one on the back pocket of my jeans and one on my backpack. There were a few other people wearing them; however, we were definitely in a minority. Well, the announcement was clear—friends, too, were welcome… Whoops! Larry was looking at me.

I stood. “I’m Paul, and I’m gay, and you know that Larry and I are partners.”

The girl who had interrupted Larry stood. “I’m Lucy, but you know that, already. I’m a lesbian—now you know that. This is my mama, but you know that, too.” She sat.

“I’m Beth,” the woman at the next table said. She didn’t stand up. “I’m here to make sure…well, I’m not quite sure why I am here except that Lucy’s a minor, and I figured a parent ought to be here.”

The introductions continued among the twenty people in the room. Some were laconic, no more than a barely audible first name. Some were, well, a little more…

“My name is Patrick. I’m not an Evangelical.” The boy looked at Lucy and grinned. “I’m Catholic, and I’m tired of lying at confession. I’m tired of bein’ told I’m going to hell because God made me different from other boys. I’m tired of pretending I like girls. I’m gay. I know I am, even though I’ve never even kissed another boy.” His voice grew soft. Even those close to him had to strain to hear. “I never said that to anybody—I never even said that to myself.” He nearly fell into his chair and put his hands over his face.

Beth reached him first. She sat next to him and put her arm around his shoulder. The boy looked up. “It’s okay, Patrick,” she said. “I’m not a girl; I’m a mama.”

It didn’t take long for Patrick to stop…well, I won’t say, crying, because later on we got to know Patrick a lot better, and found out that he’s not a cry-baby. Anyway, he stopped being upset, and Beth moved back to her table. The last couple of people introduced themselves. After Patrick, I was ready for anything, at least, I thought so. Then this guy got up. As soon as he spoke, he dominated the room. It was like god talking from the burning bush, or something. I kept expecting Charlton Heston to walk in the door looking for the Ten Commandments.

“My name is Sam Davis. My partner, Owen Santos, is working tonight, but he wanted me to introduce him, too. We’re both deputies in the Jacksonville County Sherriff’s Department. We’re both out, too. The sheriff and the folks at work know it, and most of them are okay with it.

 

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