Walls - 17. November 2015

“Pass me the fried rice, bro.” CJ accepted the container his brother handed him and spooned a healthy helping on his plate. The dinner table was cluttered with paper boxes and plastic containers from Ritchie’s favorite Chinese restaurant and the siblings appeared intent on putting away as much of the food as they could.

Brett was doing his best to keep up with them. Taking a momentary break, he leaned back in his chair and pointed his chopsticks at CJ. “Did you get the application in? Today was the deadline for requesting an early decision, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, I sent it in on Friday. Now I have to sweat it for six weeks. They’ll let me know on December 18.”

“You’ll get in, CJ. You’re smart!” Ritchie’s confidence in and admiration for his brother was voiced frequently, leaving CJ feeling a responsibility to be the best he could be. He dreaded disappointing the boy.

César had remained quiet up to now. “Your brother’s right, buddy. I wouldn’t worry about it. You have an impressive resume. And I don’t think too many other applicants will have a letter of recommendation from a former President. That alone should earn you extra points in whatever scale they use to rank potential students.”

“I know, Dad, but still…

“Dude, stop worrying, okay? I still can’t believe you had Bill Clinton do that for you.” Brett reached for one of the dishes and smelled the contents.

“What are you doing, Jarhead? Get your nose out of the food!” César reached over and pushed the container away from Brett’s face.

“Making sure it’s not spoiled. Last time we ordered the lobster dish it was bad.” Brett scooped a small amount of the dish and dropped it atop a mound of white rice.

CJ ignored the dads’ interchange; he was used to their antics by now. “Bill Clinton was Robbie Mook’s idea, Papa. I asked him to write me one and he suggested asking the president instead. I sent Robbie a cover letter addressed to Bill and a copy of my resume and he took care of the rest. What surprised me was they sent me a copy of what was mailed to the university. And that Clinton mentioned meeting me at the Human Rights Campaign dinner and being impressed with me. I wonder if he really did or if Robbie put him up to it. Then he talked about what an asset I would be to any school lucky enough to have me attend.”

“Great, as if your damn ego needed further stroking.” César had a way of bringing his son down to earth whenever he thought CJ was getting cocky. “Don’t forget Mr. Clinton’s known for his florid language. How do you think he was able to charm the panties off all those women?”

“Daaad! Be nice. That’s a former President of the United States you’re talking about.”

“Just stating the facts, buddy. Just stating the facts.”

Brett was not successful in disguising his chuckle. “Not to change the subject—but changing the subject—have you done anything with the checklist I forwarded from the management company?”

“Not yet. I’ll work on it tonight but I’ll need help from you and Dad. I’m not sure I know what to order.”

“You know your friends’ tastes better than we do, CJ. Mark off what you think you and them would like to eat. César and I will review it before we send it in. Remember, this company specializes in luxury accommodations. They’re used to doing this type of stuff. We’ll tell them the number of people and meals and they’ll adjust the amount of food accordingly.”

“But what if we order too much? I don’t like the idea of the extra being thrown out.”

“Dude, they donate all left-overs to a food bank, so very little gets wasted. We’ll go downstairs to watch Sunday Night Football after we get done eating and work on it together, okay?”

• • •

CJ dropped off the keys to his Jeep next door before getting in the truck with Brett. Brad would ferry Patrick and Ritchie to the Marine Corps War Memorial in Arlington where they would meet with members of the Gay Straight Alliance before the ceremony. Brett drove his Ford F-350 to the flower shop near Walls CJ had ordered flowers from and went in the store with his son.

The wreath was ready when they arrived and CJ retrieved his money clip and peeled off bills to pay for it. He thought they’d done a great job with the arrangement and liked the tiny American and rainbow flags on it.

“Dude, let me pay for it.”

“Thanks, Papa, but I got it. I’ll get paid back by the GSA. These are the type of things we do fundraisers for. If you start paying for our projects, the new members won’t learn how to support their activities in the future. I won’t be around after this year and my goal’s to make sure the organization runs smoothly after I graduate.”

“You’re trying to teach them?”

“Sure, why not? It’s what you and Dad always do with me.”

Defiant’s bright yellow paint made it easy to find the Jeep in the half-full parking area. It was early enough in the morning. The Veterans’ Day crowd was not as large as it would be later on when other ceremonies would take place. Brett followed the group of students, keeping a short distance between them and himself, as they walked towards the statue commemorating the raising of the American flag on the island of Iwo Jima during World War II. He had forgone wearing his uniform but the motorcycle vest he donned bore embroidered patches identifying him as a veteran of the Marine Corps. He stood in silence, hands clasped behind him and feet spread shoulder-width, as CJ read the card he’d written, asked his fathers to critique, and which would end up on the display.

“We, the members of the Gay Straight Alliance at School Without Walls High School, express our gratitude to all the men and women who have served in the military, and to those who’ve made the ultimate sacrifice on our behalf. Because of them, we are able to enjoy the freedoms our forefathers envisioned when our country was created. We’re particularly thankful to members of the GLBT community who for so long served in shadows.”

As they’d previously agreed, the group stood quietly for a minute, some with bowed heads. CJ took a step forward and placed the laminated card he had read from on a plastic holder atop the flower arrangement. He knew it would be collected by National Park Service personnel and stored with other items left behind at the monument. When he turned around he saw Brett talking to another man.

“Aren’t you upset watching this?”

Brett glanced at the rail thin man standing next to him. “Excuse me?”

“You’re a vet, aren’t you?” The man pointed at the eagle, globe, and anchor on his vest and the rockers identifying his service in Iraq and Afghanistan.

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, don’t you find it upsetting to see a bunch of kids disrespecting the Marine Corps by talking about gay veterans? I mean, I know there has to be a few, but they were probably worthless.”

CJ and his friends had approached Brett after they had finished with their small ceremony and were listening to the exchange. He clenched and unclenched his fists, burying the desire to throttle the man speaking to his father.

“Actually, I find your attitude and comments to be utterly disgusting.” Brett’s tone was clipped and CJ was certain the placid expression he gave the man belied the anger he must be feeling. “Two of those kids happen to be mine and I’m damn proud of them and their friends.”

The corners of CJ’s mouth ticked upwards as he watched and listened. While he was used to his father’s forceful demeanor, the rest of his friends had never seen the retired marine in a fighting mood. More than one jaw went slack when they heard Brett speak. The stranger seemed nervous as the group of students came closer and formed a jagged semi-circle in front of the two older men. CJ stood at the center and draped an arm around Ritchie, pulling him close to his body when Brett expressed his pride in the two of them.

“Your homophobic remark is offensive to me and I’m certain to most of us who’ve worn the uniform. You must have never served or you would know marines, regardless of their sexual orientation, don’t appreciate dismissive remarks about fellow Corps members.”

“Sorry…” The man’s mumbled apology was hard to hear as he shifted from foot to foot in obvious discomfort.

“Yeah, well, next time think before you speak and show some respect for all who had the guts to enlist. And for the record, I happen to be one of those gay servicemen you just dissed.” Brett looked at the man one last time and then turned his attention to the students. “Come on, kids, let’s hit the McDonald’s on Glebe Road for lunch. My treat.”

Later in the day, most of the same group of students gathered at the bowling alley Dr. Matt Calhoun had reserved for a portion of the evening. It was Chipper’s eighteenth birthday. While the teen and his friends gorged on chicken wings and pizza, Matt sat in a corner of the bar, trying to remain inconspicuous in the softer lit area of the establishment.

“Are you gonna miss him next year?” Dasan Turner, Matt’s partner, sat next to the physician while nursing his cocktail. His question caught CJ’s attention as he walked out of the restroom and he stopped to eavesdrop.

Matt tilted his head and stared at his companion. “Huh?”

“I asked if you’re you going to miss him next year. I mean Chipper. You know, after he moves out to go to college?”

“Hell, yeah! It’s going to be weird not having him and his friends around on a daily basis. Agreeing to let him move in with me was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.”

“You ever wish you’d stayed with his father and raised him together?”

Matt hesitated for a moment before replying. “Maybe a little at first. But it passed. Chip’s philandering would have destroyed the relationship sooner or later. And I’m not sure how Chipper would have reacted. It was bad enough the kid rejected his father when he found out he cheated on me. If he’d lived through it, who knows how bad his reaction might have been.”

“Yeah, I guess. He’s a good boy, I’ve enjoyed being around him since I moved in with you guys.”

“Can’t take credit for it. His mother did a tremendous job raising him and his sister. And CJ’s taken care of smoothing out any rough edges.”

“What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you noticed how CJ’s the center of the universe with all those kids?” Matt waved his glass in the direction of the raucous group before taking a sip. “The kid’s a natural leader. They all look up to him and listen to what he has to say. César and Brett are a pair of lucky fuckers. They got a smart but scared kid two years ago. They treated him with respect, gave him rope to find his own way, and they’ve been rewarded with someone who’s gonna go far. He’s been the best possible influence on Chipper.”

CJ felt his cheeks warm up. No matter how hard he tried, compliments almost always made him blush. He stepped back inside the restroom, threw water on his face, and waited until he’d relaxed before walking out again. He’d insisted the core group of friends split up when they chose bowling lanes―he didn’t want any of the other guys and girls to feel as if they were not part of the group―and realized they’d all followed his suggestion without questioning him.

• • •

“We want our room back!”

CJ, Owen, Ritchie, and Rod were in the basement when Tyler and Randy stomped down the stairs and interrupted their pool game. It was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and the guys had been waiting for the Chicago branch of the Abelló family to arrive. The grandparents had flown in on Saturday and the house was once again full with every room occupied.

“Sorry, bro, but I think you’re shit out of luck.” Rod dumped the cue stick he’d been using atop the felt and strolled towards the new arrivals, greeting them with a hug. “Our cousin and his boyfriend have taken it over and I don’t think they’re about to let go.”

“Hi, Ritchie.” The boy appeared surprised when Randy wrapped him up in his arms even though CJ had been telling him the cousins would treat him like a member of the family. “I understand you gave up your room this weekend so my parents could use it. Now, why can’t your older brother be as accommodating as you?”

“I’ve got your accommodation right here, dickhead!” CJ laughed while grabbing his crotch and slapped his cousin on the shoulder. “Hey, Ty. It’s so nice to see you. Are you sure you want to marry my cousin? I could set you up with a nice guy if you want. Ozzie plays rugby with a bunch of hunky men.”

“Nah… Thanks, CJ. I think I’ll stick with your cousin.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind…”

“I may have to rethink you being one of the groomsmen, cuz.” Randy dropped the backpack he was carrying on the floor and shook his head. “I don’t need your shit. So what room do we get this year?”

“I took the one next to CJ and Ozzie, Randy.” Ritchie seemed pleased to be part of the conversation between the older guys. “But I can move if you guys want that one. I don’t mind.”

“You’re a good kid, Ritchie. You know that? Ty and I will take the empty one, no need for you to move again. Not sure I want to be next to those two when they start making noise anyway.”

“Hey!” Owen shouted. “Don’t make me part of an Abelló family fight, mate.”

“Give it up, Ozzie.” Rod draped an arm over the blonde’s shoulders and gave him an affectionate tap to the chin with his fist. “You’re part of this family already. You’re fair game.”

• • •

“Good afternoon, everybody. Please have a seat.” President Obama glanced at the assembled guest, rolled his eyes and shook his head. ““I know some folks think this tradition is a little silly. I do not disagree. It seems only yesterday I first undertook the awesome responsibility of anointing the annual Totus. The Turkey of the United States. How time flies… even if turkeys don’t.”

CJ chuckled at President Obama’s opening remark while looking around the Rose Garden. Sasha Obama had invited Ritchie to attend the event and the boy had in turned asked his brother to go to the White House with him. The two of them―and two other classmates of Sasha and Ritchie’s at Sidwell Friends School―stood to the side and back of the president as he spoke.

“Dad loves doing this. He gets to tell all sorts of corny jokes.” Malia Obama cupped CJ’s ear so she could whisper to him. They’d met minutes before, immediately connecting when they realized both were seniors in high school.

“I think he’s funny. I always like it when he’s on one of the late night shows.”

“Sure, you get to hear the best lines. You don’t have to suffer through all the lame ones my sister and I have to put up with.”

“Trust me, Malia, my dad’s just as bad. I keep reminding him he has to upgrade his jokes.”

“I’m here to announce what I’m certain will be the most talked-about executive decision this month. Today, I’m taking an action fully within my legal authority―the same kind of action taken by Democrat and Republican presidents before me―to spare the lives of two turkeys, Honest and Abe, from a terrible and delicious fate.”

“Are you going to college next year? You said you go to Walls and I know that’s a great school. I think most of their graduates go on to universities all over.” Malia stood with hands clasped in front, smiling, while her father spoke. CJ realized she’d been through this event for seven years in a row, in all likelihood accounting for her lack of interest in the proceedings.

“Oh, yeah. I’m definitely going to college. What about you?”

“Me too. But I’m thinking about taking a gap year. Mom and Dad seem okay with the idea but I haven’t decided yet. Where do you want to go?”

“As you may have heard, for months there has been a fierce competition between a bunch of turkeys trying to win their way into the White House.” The President’s oblique reference to the presidential campaign brought renewed chuckles from the audience Well, today I can announce that the American people have spoken, and we have two winners.”

“So how come you don’t go to Sidwell, CJ?” Sasha’s question allowed CJ the chance to avoid answering where he planned on going to college.

“Ummm, I moved up to Washington two years ago from Miami. One of my dads was working at the Pentagon at the time―he’s a marine―and I met the principal of Walls at a function there because her husband was my dad’s boss. She convinced me to apply to Walls.”

“It is important to know turkeys have always had powerful allies. Many of you know Benjamin Franklin once wrote, ‘I wish the bald eagle had not been chosen as the representative of our country. He is a bird of bad moral character…the turkey is, in comparison, a much more respectable bird.’ I think these two turkeys would agree with Mr. Franklin. And they’ll get to live out the rest of their days, respectably, at a Virginia estate with 10,000 acres of roaming space.”

“Did you say dads?” Malia appeared somewhat surprised.

CJ smiled, he was used to similar reactions when he mentioned he had two fathers. “Yeah, I have two of those.”

“Oh, wow, that’s so cool. So they adopted you and your brother?”

“It’s kinda complicated.” CJ raised his hand to muffle the chuckle threatening to disturb the event. “I’ll explain after your dad’s done talking.”

“I know some will call this amnesty. They’d rather have us build a wall around the flock. But don’t worry, there’s plenty of turkey to go around. In fact, later this afternoon, the First Lady, the kids, and I will take two turkeys that didn’t make the cut to a local food pantry. A place which works hard year-round to make sure folks in our Nation’s Capital have food to eat and clothes to wear. I want to thank The Turkey Farm in Pennsylvania for once again donating those birds. And for making Thanksgiving dinner possible for some of our fellow Americans.”

“CJ?” Sasha and Ritchie had moved next to their siblings after the president had finished speaking and posed for pictures with the pardoned fowl. “I invited Ritchie to come with us to the food bank. Can he go?”

Malia elbowed him gently from the other side. “That’s a great idea. You don’t have to be anywhere, do you? Hang out with us. You still have to finish telling me your story.”

• • •

“And then, after we took pictures with the president, we got to go upstairs. It was sooo cool. And Mrs. Obama was real nice. She had juice and these kinda healthy muffins for us.” Ritchie’s excitement over his visit to the White House, and to the residential portion of it in particular, had not diminished over the subsequent days. He’d told the story to the Abelló family Wednesday night over dinner. Then he’d repeated it on Thanksgiving Day to all the guests during the big meal, and was now sharing the experience once again with the group of friends gathered in the basement of the Prospect Street house.

“I think my little brother enjoyed hanging out with the Obamas so much he no longer considers politicians to be boring.” CJ leaned backwards against Owen, tilted his head, and stole a kiss from his boyfriend. The two of them shared the large couch with Randy and Ty while Rod and the rest of the group had spread themselves all over the place. The football game they were supposedly watching played on the TV but was being ignored at the time.

“He’s not a politician! He’s the president.” Ritchie sounded outraged.

Thiago’s chuckling made Wingnut―sprawled between the college freshman and Ritchie―raise his head and then burrow underneath his owner’s hand looking for more scratching behind the ears. “I think he still qualifies as a politician, Ritchie.”

“Maybe, but he’s not as bad as those guys on the Sunday morning talk shows. I don’t understand why CJ insists on watching them.”

“Because I like to know what the people running our country think, bro.”

“And because your brother has politics flowing through his veins, Ritchie.” Brad stood in front of the picture gallery, glancing at what Brett had referred to as CJ’s trophy wall. “If you guys look at all these damn pictures, you’ll notice all of us are in them. Ozzie’s in more than anyone except CJ, but apart from family, politicians are in them the most. And I’m sure the one you took with President Obama and Ritchie will be up here soon enough.”

“Hey! Stop picking on me. I met most of those people because of the dads.”

“Dude, don’t go blaming us because you like to hang out with those types.” All heads turned to catch Brett standing at the foot of the stairs with César, Tom, and JP. Both sets of parents were grinning and there was a hint of mischief in their eyes. CJ smiled and moved closer to Owen who surreptitiously pinched his boyfriend, eliciting a yelp. The two of them knew what was about to take place.

“Hey, Cap, Mr. A!” Harley jumped from the bean bag he’d appropriated as his own a long time ago―black with orange details. He claimed it based on those being Harley-Davidson’s colors. “What are you guys doing down here?”

“Last time I checked it’s our names on the title to the house, Harley. I know you all think CJ owns the joint but you’re wrong.” César’s deadpan delivery was marred by his grin.

“What? The house’s not in my name? We’re gonna have to fix that, Dad.” CJ’s quip earned him a tickling attack from Owen and Randy and a shouted “asshole!” from his dads.

The fathers walked further into the room and stood behind the couch; César held a handful of envelopes he slapped on the open palm of one hand. “Since the entire Squadron’s here―”

“Come on, Dad, you too? Give me a fucking break!” CJ shook his head in disbelief and buried his face in his hands.

“What’s the Squadron?” Ty asked.

“That would be us.” Chipper waved a hand encompassing the room’s occupants. “It’s what Ritchie called us when he was describing our group of friends to Ozzie’s sister this past summer when they were on their road trip from Miami to Washington. CJ’s supposed to be our leader, so we’re CJ’s Squadron or Squad.”

“So, anyway, most of you are already eighteen, except for CJ, Patrick, and Ritchie.” Brett pointed to each of them as he named them. “But in about a month we have another big birthday to celebrate.”

“Go, CJ!”

“Legal at last.”

“Maybe now his pecker will finally start growing.”

“Time to get a job and move out, cuz.”

“He still can’t buy booze. He’ll be a real man in three years.”

“FUCK ALL OF YOU! I swear I get no respect. Why’s everyone always picking on me?”

“CJ, you’re whining. I thought that wasn’t allowed.” Ritchie’s comment earned him fist bumps and high fives from his brother’s friends.

“He’s right, dude. Grow a pair and take it like a man.” Brett chuckled and ruffled his son’s hair. “Anyway, there’s three guys not here but we’ve spoken to them. Chatri sends his regrets but he doesn’t want to leave Helen alone while she’s pregnant. Sean begged off also. The time between Christmas and New Year’s a busy one at the bar and he can’t afford not to be there. Ethan’s home with his parents but he says he’ll be going.”

“Going where, Cap?”

“Well, to CJ’s birthday party, of course. Here’s the invitations.” César held up the sheaf of envelopes and handed them to Brett for distribution. “Don’t open those yet. Harley and Thiago, even though you’re adults, we’ve spoken to your parents and they’re fine with our plans.”

Each envelope had a name on it and Brett passed them out to the intended recipient. “So, the birthday boy approached us a couple of months ago about doing something different to celebrate. We thought it would be fun and agreed to it. CJ? You wanna take it from here?”

CJ gave Owen a peck on the lips and stood. “Back at the beginning of the year I found out the dads own a place in Colorado. Since my birthday falls while we’re out of school and I’ve never been out west, I thought it would be cool to have all of us go skiing together. Inside the envelope there’s an airline ticket for a round trip to Denver. We leave right after Christmas and return to Washington after the New Year.”

“We’re going skiing?”

“Our flight better be roundtrip from Chicago.”

“You’re flying us out there?”

“Pot’s legal in Colorado!”

“Can we go snowmobiling?”

“I’m snowboarding.”

The guys tore open their envelopes to find boarding passes already printed for both legs of their trip, a tentative itinerary, and a picture of a chalet with snow-capped mountain in the background. They all talked at the same time. Comments and questions flew so fast, CJ couldn’t keep up. He decided to wait until they’d all calmed down before trying to respond.

Once the guys had settled down, Patrick was the first one to speak while staring at his fathers. “Dad? Brad and I are supposed to be in Boston with Mom and Mac over Christmas.”

“All taken care of, mate.” JP glanced at his husband for a moment, waiting for his consent before continuing. “Tom and I spoke to them and they’re fine with you boys skipping the trip to Boston this year. We agreed you can go up during your spring break instead.”

“That’s going to be a long time without seeing Mom.”

“We thought the same thing.” Tom walked towards his youngest son and took a seat on the armrest of the chair Patrick was curled up in. “Hilary and Mac will be coming down to Washington and we’ve invited them to join us for Christmas supper.”

“Really? That’s awesome! Way to go, Dads!” Brad hugged JP before sliding over towards Tom and repeating the gesture.

CJ tapped Thiago’s side with his stockinged foot; his friend remained on the floor, scratching Wingnut’s belly, looking pensive. “What’s going on, homey? You look deep in thought.”

“Not much, just thinking. Who’s taking care of the pooch while we’re all away?”

“JP and I will,” Tom replied.

“Oh, okay, that makes sense.” Thiago stood, fished his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and started walking toward the game room section of the basement. “I better call the ball and chain and let her know I’ll be gone for New Year’s Eve. Ignore any screaming you hear. I have a feeling she ain’t gonna be happy about it.”