Dan's Conundrum - 23. Chapter 23

I was not happy when David squeezed my hand as we walked down the school’s main corridor after our compulsory P.E.. I swallowed and looked at him. I knew what he was trying to do, but really? Making out behind the tennis courts was one thing, but having my hand grabbed in public with no way to struggle free was something else. He gave me no warning. For some reason I felt unable to confront him. All I could do was relax and pretend everything was fine. Maybe that was the point. Cautiously, I watched the reactions, pupils and teachers alike.

It’s okay. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Dan, his eyes seemed to say. Or was he trying to convince himself? He was silent, as though he too was in new territory. Was he comfortable with being himself, liking who he likes, or was he using me to come out? Was I his meat shield? Whichever it was, holding his hand in public was still scary! Well, scary but it was a thrill as well. It was something new. It was a message, and I was beginning to see the point. There was no need to flaunt our sexuality, but we shouldn’t have to hide. Sure, we had a few surprised looks thrown in our direction now and again. I had always imagined a certain bigoted individual would come out and block our way and attack us on sight, but he, against my predictions, had not materialised.

Noticing our hands, Jenna came up from behind us and asked jokingly, ‘Why are all cute guys gay?’

I looked back. ‘What nonsense, Jenna. We notice cute straight guys all the time,’ I told her, giving David a glance. ‘They’re everywhere. Whole planet is infested with them. They’re on TV, magazines, Facebook…’

‘That’s true,’ she said. ‘But you two look so cute together.’

‘Thanks!’ David smiled, before promptly lifting and kissing the back of my hand.

What was he doing? In front of Jenna? In front of everyone?

Was I becoming one of those people walking down the street, holding hands and making others feel awful because I had something they desperately want? Was my very presence a bitter reminder of the affection from a boy Jenna once had? But if there were heartaches, there was no sign of it today. From the way she spoke and from the look in her eyes, I detected none of the sour emotions I knew I would have. And she wasn’t in another relationship either. She just moved swiftly on with life.

What of the guy on my right? Who is he and why are we in a relationship? What is his agenda? Are his feelings for me real? I knew Chris meant well, but the questions he planted in my mind were devastating to me. Yet these were things I needed to know, and it seemed that, if the questions were ever asked, our relationship wouldn’t stand a chance.

But what would I rather have? A relationship ended early before it got worse and the cuts became too deep, or a longer relationship full of questions that needed answers?

‘Is something wrong?’ David asked, once again catching me staring into space. I found an empty classroom nearby and pulled him inside, closing the door behind us.

‘There’s something I want to know,’ I said.

‘What?’ He grinned, thinking something romantic would soon happen.

‘Why did you leave me there in the park that day?’

He looked as though he’d been slapped in the face. Searching for words, he avoided my eyes and took a deep breath, before saying, ‘I’m sorry. I messed up. I didn’t know what to do.’

‘Nonsense. You made a conscious choice to walk away.’

As I finished, I sensed a change in the air. Whatever it was, be it the fabric of relationship, I heard it rip.

He frowned. ‘I guess…I didn’t want you guys to learn that about me.’

That David kept his sexuality from me all this time was almost infuriating, ‘Why? We are your friends. How could you not tell us?’

‘So I can’t even choose who I tell about that side of me?’ He sighed. ‘Look, I knew both of you liked me. But I just wanted to be friends. Things were good the way they were. Didn’t need to make it awkward.’

‘Fine. You wanted to be just friends and you still avoided me like the plague after.’

Rip.

‘I freaked out. Part of me wished I could take back Saturday and I didn’t know how. You had always been just a friend to me.’

‘So in other words, we were a mistake and you didn’t think I was someone you could love.’

Rip. Rip.

He was taken aback by the sharpness in my tone. ‘No. But after that I began to see you in a different way. Sure, you may not be the Byron I imagined but –’

‘I get it. I’m not your dream guy. I’m not your type, and I am a disappointment you had to come to terms with.’

‘No…’ He held my hand, his eyes fixed on mine. ‘I want you now, Dan. Does what I think before matter?’

I looked away.

‘I want you now,’ he said again, pleading. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t ready for you before…’

He was so vulnerable and the questions (thanks to Chris) wouldn’t stop coming – I wanted them to stop. I couldn’t bear to ask anymore. The ripping needed to stop.

‘It’s just that…’ I began. ‘It seems so unreal. Few weeks ago you were straight and you didn’t even feel anything for me, remember?’

‘I wasn’t really…umm…straight.’

‘No?’

He blinked. ‘Of course. I’m sure it’s all your imagination…’

‘Are you Bi?’

‘Yeah yeah yeah, we all need a label.’ He sighed. ‘And, for the record, we’re not confused like some of you seem to think we are though.’

I chuckled. ‘Perhaps not, but I’ll be keeping an eye on you! One last question, then.’

‘Shoot.’

I held my breath. ‘Did you ever come out to –?’ I grinned at him.

He smiled broadly. ‘Last night. Mum took it well. She’d love to meet you some time.’

‘That’s so nice.’ I hugged him. ‘I’ll come for dinner. You cook.’

He folded his arms. ‘You’re just after the food, aren’t you?’

I smartly did not reply. The mood settled. ‘What about you?’ He spoke softly. ‘Your parents have to know at some point.’

‘That’s true. Actually… I think I’m ready.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yeah. I’m going to break the news. They’ve had it coming for a long time now.’

* * * * *

All parents, whether they liked to admit it or not, subconsciously wished to see a part of themselves in their own children, to retrace their own footsteps, and to relive the childhood that had come and gone. They all missed it secretly. Now so far behind them, the only way they could experience once more the wonders of this magical world was through the eyes of their own children. But that would not last either. One day, the child would grow and become a new person. They wouldn’t understand this child anymore. They reminisced about the child they used to know, and hope that one day he would bring them grandchildren, all so they could be in touch again with the boy they thought they had lost.

Well, if you didn’t buy that and you preferred something more factual, there could be a scientific explanation: all genes wanted to survive – as a result these parents would experience an intense desire to reproduce. Reproduction happened and a child was born. The genes had programmed the parents to nurture this child, pouring time, resources and energy into what they thought was one of their own, hoping the child would one day reproduce and ensure their own genes’ survival. If this investment didn’t pay off however (I.E. no grandchildren), the parents (or the genes pre-programmed the parents) would feel cuckolded and betrayed. All these years, they had helped to raise a being who would not return their investment, now claiming to be gay.

In that, my parents’ interest and that of mine – conflict.

I waited until dinner time. This was it. I was to form the words that would lead to a train of unimaginable consequences which could result in me getting kicked out of the house. Only being real. They would be right to feel angry, right to feel betrayed. If I would not return their investment, they had no biological obligation to put my interest before their own. In fact, after they’d kicked me out, they’d probably conceive another child right away and forget I ever existed.

Or conceive several. Just in case.

‘There’s a meeting in church on Wednesday, isn’t there?’ Mum asked Dad at the dinner table.

‘I think so.’

My cue. The subject of God, church, or something on the lines of that was an opportunity that could not be missed.

‘Mum, Dad,’ I said, getting their attention, ‘have you ever wondered why I left the church?’ I asked, sitting back with a cool, neutral profile.

‘You grew out of it, that’s all,’ Mum said. Then she frowned, imagining an unpleasant direction. ‘I thought we agreed not to talk about it.’

This was a chance to back down and swallow the words, but I didn’t.

‘That’s only half the story,’ I told them. ‘I can tell you the other half if you like.’

Now it was out there in the air. I wouldn’t force it on them but it was there if they wanted to know. Fair is fair.

‘Look, we don’t want to listen to your evidence,’ Dad told me. ‘You can’t stop us from going to church.’

‘Dad –’

‘We don’t want to listen to it, okay?’ he raised his voice, agitated. ‘We don’t care.’

He frightened me. I was forced back by those angry eyes. I felt my own confidence collapsing like an avalanche. I wasn’t challenging your beliefs, Dad. But they didn’t trust me. It only occurred to me now what damage I had already inflicted on my family in the last few months. What kind of a son would I be to betray them again and tell them I’m gay? That was the last thing my parents needed right now – it was not what they wanted to hear. I had hurt them enough.

‘What’s wrong, Tse-Ho?’ Mum looked at me, sensing a change in my cool demeanour, and perhaps also the cold edges melting away. She didn’t see the tears I was holding back. Any second now, I would break and I would not be taken seriously.

I opened my mouth, but no words came. They looked at me expectantly. I was too overwhelmed to speak, to reveal what I had hidden for so long. I couldn’t do it. Quick, change the subject and tell them to forget about it, forget about it all. I could tell them twenty years later. I could spend twenty more years waiting in the dark, yearning for their acceptance and love.

But maybe in twenty years’ time I’d regret not telling them here, right now. This didn’t have to end badly. How would I know if I never tried? Maybe it was that kindling of hope, deep inside of me that gave me my voice again. I thought of coming clean and the good things that might come with it. Cracks could be healed. Truth was the cure.

‘I’m gay.’

No reaction. They stared at me, sitting absolutely still.

‘I’m gay and that’s why I left the church,’ I said again. There was something about their calculating silence I didn’t much like. My fear turned to dread. They didn’t want to react to the news. It was as though the meaning of the words hadn’t sank through.

Then it did.

‘Okay…?’ Mum prompted, shrugging as she did so. She gave Dad a look before nodding, indicating me to carry on.

‘That’s it?’ I heard myself asking. They were still silent.

Mum asked quietly, ‘What do you want us to say?’

‘Something angry, like you hate me, or –’

‘Don’t be silly,’ she said reassuringly. She went on, ‘Tse-Ho, we’re family. You can tell us anything. We’ve always been open to you.’

I wanted to cry.

Mum said, ‘Tse-Ho, I just want you to be happy. That’s why we came to this country.’

For once in a very long time, I allowed the tears to stream down my cheeks. I saw her standing up, coming over and I felt her arms around me, holding me.

‘Don’t cry now,’ she whispered, just like she used to when I was a child.

‘Are you sure it’s not a phase?’ Dad asked. He still hoped, somewhere inside, that he could have grandchildren – though I saw no harm for him in dreaming on and believing what he wanted to believe.

‘Maybe in twenty years’ time, we’ll know,’ I replied, smiling.

We stayed still for a moment and let the silence return. Everything felt surreal. I did it.

‘So…have you found someone?’ Mum asked, smiling.

‘Yeah…yeah I have.’

‘Is she a girl?’ Dad raised his eyebrows.

I frowned at the question. Did he actually understand –? To my surprise he laughed at me. If nothing else, at least my dumfounded expression was amusing.

‘His name is David,’ I told them.

‘Oh!’ Dad made a noise of recognition. ‘The one who bought you fragrance for your birthday? Always thought that was an interesting choice for a gift. How long has this been going on?’

‘About a week.’

‘He’s a good-looking boy,’ Mum remarked. My cheeks flushed within seconds.

‘He is more than that,’ I replied, smiling. ‘He is also a good friend.’

‘Maybe you should invite him over,’ Dad suggested. I instantly knew where this was going. They would meet the boyfriend of their son, check him out and see if his genes were good for the family. Er…maybe not. Maybe they just wanted to be in touch with the son they found again.

‘He had to work most days though, but you could meet him after the school play tomorrow.’

They looked at me, confused.

‘He’s performing tomorrow. I was going to see it by myself but…you can come if you want.’

‘What’s the play?’ Mum asked.

I smiled. ‘A View From the Bridge.’