Autumn - 8. My Lucky Day

“CJ!” Harley, riding his skateboard, had to swerve at the last minute to avoid hitting his friend. “Bruh, did you see the article in the Post yesterday? They interviewed your uncle, the cop who got shot! And his husband!” The kid kicked up his board and removed his headphones as he matched CJ’s pace down the sidewalk. “I didn’t know he was gay, you didn’t say anything. It was so cool how they talked about getting married this summer. Are your dads married? Hey, how was the trip to―”

“Morning, Harley. Yeah, the article was pretty cool. I got to read it Saturday on the way up to New Jersey for the funeral I told you about. Uncles Tom and JP rode up with us. We had ten friends who went up together.”

“Oh… you read it Saturday?”

CJ realized he’d screwed up. He was glad they were already at the entrance to the school. Trip had given them the article to read before publication, but he didn’t want to get into details about the bus and who his traveling companions had been. “And I didn’t tell you he was gay ‘cause it didn’t come up. It’s not a big deal. The two of them are my dads’ best friends, they all got married at the same time. They had a double ceremony and I was the best man for all four.”

“WHAT?”

“Speaking of my dads, I asked if it was cool for you to spend the night on Friday so they could take us out for a ride on the bikes the next day.” CJ once again sidestepped Harley’s question; he’d answer them all some other time. “They said it was fine with them, but they wanted you to ask your ‘rents. They’ll probably want to talk to them also.”

CJ’s last class of the day was gym. Once it was over, he showered and changed back into street clothes―wearing a white pocket t-shirt from Clyde’s. The back of the shirt had a caricature of the Democrats’ donkey and the Republicans’ elephant with raised mugs of beer. He met up with Harley outside the locker room and together headed to the classroom where the GSA meeting was being held. His friend had expressed an interest in attending when CJ mentioned he was going to join the organization.

Once inside, they took chairs on the aisle, near the back of the room. There were about twenty students in the classroom, about evenly split between boys and girls. Danek and Autumn―the co-chairs he had met the previous week―sat at a desk in the front of the room. CJ was surprised to see James Rupple, his English teacher, standing by the side, leaning against a wall.

The surprise was even greater at seeing his teacher without a coat, wearing only a tight black t-shirt, showing off some ink on both arms. Mr. Rupple was older than his dads, but for someone most likely in his fifties, he seemed to be in good shape. His close-cropped salt and pepper hair, his clean-shaven, angular face, and the perfectly circular cleft on his chin gave him an interesting look. The man wore it well. CJ had already decided his English teacher was going to be one of his favorites this term; even if the workload Mr. Rupple had already assigned was monumental.

“Wow, nice turnout. Thank you all for coming. My name’s Autumn Dingell. I’m one of the co-chairs of the GSA.” Harley and CJ stopped their conversation when she spoke.

“And I am Danek.” The pale-faced kid spoke with a slight accent which announced English was not his native language. “I am her counterpart. Standing by the side is Mr. James Rupple, a teacher in the English department, and the GSA faculty advisor.”

“Before we get into a discussion of upcoming events, and what our goals should be for the year, I’d like each of us to stand up and introduce ourselves.” Autumn spoke with confidence as she took control of the proceedings. CJ realized she and Danek might be co-chairs, but her personality made her the apparent driving force of the two. “Make sure you give us more than name and age. The goal is to start getting to know each other. We have quite a few new faces around, so this will help us all. At the end, tell us if you are gay, straight, bi, or anything else.”

“Guess I will go first. You already know my name is Danek Nowak, I am a junior, just turned eighteen on 7-11―I celebrated with a Slurpee!” His comment caused many in the room to giggle. “I was born in Warsaw, Poland, and have been in America for the last two and a half years; my dad’s a diplomat at the Polish Embassy here in DC. In my free time, I like to read, play video games, and listen to music. I also love going to the cinema―especially science fiction films. I am gay. My parents did not make a big deal when I came out last year, although I have a feeling they hope it’s a phase, and I’ll eventually meet a nice girl, marry her, and give them grandchildren. They better hope my sister has enough for both of us. Welcome to the GSA. Oh, and I am single!” There was some laughter at his last comments and a smattering of applause when he sat down.

“My turn, as I said before, I’m Autumn Dingell, I’ll be eighteen at the end of this month, a senior, and I was born in Ann Arbor, Michigan―GO BLUE! My grandfather’s a Democratic Congressman from our state, and my dad works for the Department of Education. I grew up in what many would call a liberal environment, but I prefer to call it an enlightened one. Respect for others, acceptance of differences, and inclusion of all on an equal basis. That’s what my family lives by, and what I was taught from an early age. My views led me to join the GSA in an effort to share those beliefs. I’m straight, and have a boyfriend who’s a freshman at the University of Michigan.”

After all the students in front of him had introduced themselves, a smiling Autumn looked at CJ, pointed at him, and asked him to stand and introduce himself. “Your face isn't familiar, so I’ll guess you’re new to Walls.”

“Hi. My name’s CJ, and I’ll be sixteen in December. I’m a sophomore, and yes, this is my first year at Walls. I guess you could say I’m Cuban-American, although both mom and dad were born in the US, as was I.” Thinking he could end up becoming friends with some of these kids, CJ was trying to decide how much to share. “We lived in Germany for a while but eventually moved back to Miami. We being my little brother, my mother who’s a banker, and my step-father who’s an Air Force officer. I moved to D.C. this past May and live in Georgetown, with my father and his husband.” He noticed a couple of guys turn around to look at him after mentioning his dad had a husband. “Yeah, I have two dads. One of them’s a Captain in the Marine Corps and the other one’s a partner at EY, the professional services company.”

Realizing he now had everyone’s attention in the room, CJ decided to give a few more details. How to properly introduce himself was something he’d picked up during his summer internship. He’d been taught it was an opportunity to paint a picture of yourself, with your own words, instead of letting others make assumptions based on snippets of information. “Both of them own Harley-Davidson motorcycles and are avid riders. I guess that has rubbed off on me over the past couple of summers when I’ve visited― motorcycling is one of my main interests. History and politics are up there on the like scale and I was lucky enough to score a two-week internship at Senator Marco Rubio’s office in July. My other big love is working out. I lift weights almost every morning, run a couple of times a week, and practice Martial Arts. I still need to find a Dojo and a Sensei to study with here in Washington.”

He then stared right at Autumn. “As for my sexual orientation, I would say it’s none of your business.” A couple of gasps, some whistles, and many a surprised expression met his verbal bomb. “Sooner or later, I’m sure you’ll all find out, but I think it’s entirely inappropriate to ask us that question. If this organization is about promoting equality, regardless of who we love, I don’t understand why anyone’s particular orientation is relevant.

“And no, I don’t believe in hiding. As far as I’m concerned, closets are for clothes. Heck, I was the best man for both my dads and their two best friends, when they all got married last month in a joint ceremony. I look forward to getting to know all of you, and to participating in the GSA during my time at Walls.”

Thick air, cutting, knife, and all that jazz, thought CJ. The introductions made by the three students seated to his right didn’t seem to register with most of those present. They appeared to be distracted. A mere sophomore had dissed Autumn in front of everyone. Many were still nodding their heads apparently in agreement with him. To the side, Mr. Rupple had a smile on his face he tried but failed to hide with a hand.

Finally, everyone’s attention focused once again on the introductions when Harley, who’d been sitting right behind CJ all along, stood up. “CJ, bruh, you and I are going to be real frickin’ tight!” The room erupted in laughter after the innocent remark.

“Ahhh you pervs, get your damn minds out of the gutter, I didn’t mean it like that. CJ and I are already bruhs anyway. Okay, here it goes: my name’s Harley Wilkinson―yes, Harley as in the motorcycles. I’m sixteen, a sophomore in my second year at Walls, and by gosh, I hail from Oshkosh, Wisconsin. My dad’s a biker, that’s the reason he named me after the scooters. I grew up with motorcycles and bikers, grease was to me what dirt was to other kids. I’ve been riding since I was tall enough to reach the floor while in the saddle. But my Wisconsin license ain’t no good in the District, so I just ride during the summers when I visit my grandparents. I’m single and as far as my sexual orientation, I’m with my man from South Beach, none of your frickin’ business. You’ll find out if I ask you out on a date! And just maybe, I’ll ask a boy and a girl at the same time to confuse you all.”

You could easily tell the guy was the life of whatever group he was in at the time. He had everyone laughing and kidding around by the time he was done; they almost gave him a standing ovation. CJ noticed the one person still not smiling was Autumn. He thought he might have to do something about it. Several more students went through the introduction process before once again someone captured everyone’s attention.

The kid who stood up was tall, with skin the color of a dark café au lait, full lips, a broad nose, and closely cropped curly black hair. He looked around the room, a hint of a smile on his face, before settling his gaze on CJ. “Hey, CJ… Homie, you and I are also going to be tight. Got you a Dojo and Sensei, we’ll hook up later.” He looked down at the floor before once again lifting his head and continuing in a soft voice. “Okay, I’m Thiago Baravento, seventeen, a junior, and in my third year at Walls. Dad’s family hails from Brazil—that’s where my name comes from—mom is American. As I mentioned, my sport of choice is Martial Arts, been studying Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu since I could stand up I think.” Thiago’s expression turned somber, he once again inclined his head and looked at the floor. The sound of air escaping his body was audible as he exhaled.

“I’m joining the GSA to honor the memory of my brother, and maybe help others avoid what happened to him. Last year, he was a freshman at the University of South Carolina. He confided to his roommate he was gay, and the asshole outed him to the entire dorm. Afterward, the harassment never stopped.” Silence enveloped the room, the boy was visibly struggling to choke back a sob. “Anyway, my brother killed himself in January. Before going back to school for his second term. He left a note saying he couldn’t handle another semester of misery. I’m here for him. And for any others, who like him, may feel there’s no hope.”

Quietly sobbing, the kid sat down and put his head down on the desk. CJ, keenly aware of how rejection and homophobia had affected his life, and how lucky he was to have the support of his dads, was out of his chair so fast he knocked it over. He walked to Thiago’s side, put an arm around his shoulders, and quietly spoke to him. They stepped outside the room, and stood in the hallway, while the meeting went on. They missed the remainder of the introductions, returning as Mr. Rupple walked to the front and asked the co-chairs to sit with the rest of the group.

“OK, boys and girls, please settle down. We have some serious business to discuss. Later this month, thanks to a friend of Principal Edwards, Walls will be holding an Anti-Bullying day led by Ben Cohen. Google him later, he’s a retired rugby player from England.” CJ thought he noticed a glance in his direction when Mr. Rupple mentioned a friend of the principal. “He’ll be working with another former athlete, the first time they collaborate on a project such as this. It’ll also be the first time Mr. Cohen’s foundation sponsors an event in the Washington, D.C. area. Our organization will assist at certain points during the day, some of you will be leading small group discussions. If you’re selected, plan on spending some serious time studying and preparing. The event will take place on Thursday, the third of October. I’m guessing the date was agreed upon to fit their schedules.” The announcement had caused murmuring amongst the students, with questions about who Ben Cohen was being heard from several of them.

“Come on, guys. Let me get through this so we can wrap up the meeting. I’ll answer any questions you have later on. Because of the high-profile individuals involved, and because this event is a first for the area, we expect media coverage. Mrs. Edwards wants to have two students and a faculty member be the designated individuals interacting with the press. I’ll be the faculty representative, the principal has already selected one of the students. We’re about to pick the second one. Since the officers will be tied up with other responsibilities, they are not eligible.

“Could all the seniors please stand? One of you will be our spokesperson. Come up and write your names on the board, and then resume your seat. The rest of you, take out a piece of paper and write down the name of the one you think will best represent Walls, and the GSA, in front of the media. You heard all the introductions, you may have known some of them before today, so base your decision on that knowledge.”

After his meeting with Principal Edwards, CJ had been uncertain about agreeing to be one of the two students. His dads encouraged him to accept. They thought he would be a good representative, and mentioned there was no way to avoid the publicity this time. Ben would bring his name up for sure, but the Brit did not know how CJ ended up in Washington anyway, their agreement with Colonel Dickhead wasn’t going to be broken.

“Mr. Rupple, do you know who the other student will be?” Curiosity and excitement were in Autumn's voice.

“Yes I do, but I’m not allowed to tell you yet. Only Principal Edwards and I know at this point and we’d rather wait before we announce the name. Why don’t you and Danek collect all the votes? Then come back up to the desk and count them.”

The meeting ended after the winner was announced. While most of the students scattered like roaches when the lights go on, CJ told Harley to wait for him, approached Autumn, and asked to speak with her privately. He apologized for the way he had spoken earlier and acknowledged he sometimes became agitated and spoke before thinking. He was aware he hadn’t made a good first impression and asked her to have lunch with him, his treat, as a small peace offering. She gave him a small smile and accepted the invitation.

Harley was waiting for him in the back of the room. “Bruh, what was all that about? Why’d you wanna talk to her?”

“I’m pretty sure I pissed her off before, I wanted to apologize. Anyway, your mom talked to my dad last night, we’re on for this weekend.”

“Yeah! I’m psyched. Mom said your father was picking us up on Friday and then taking us to my house. I guess the rents want to meet.”

“Yeah, and that way you don’t have to carry all your junk to school. You can pack a bag and leave it at home. We’ll get it when we go over.”

“Dope!”

“Whatup, gay table? Today’s your lucky day. I’ve decided to grace you with my presence.” The kid taking a seat at the table was a scrawny, short boy, with a pimply face, braces on his teeth, thick glasses, and mousy brown hair―the haircut was a horrendous one.

“Hey, Kenton.”

“Hi, Kenton.”

“Hello, Kenton.”

“Goodbye, Kenton.” Harley’s comment, after the chorus of greetings, surprised CJ. He’d never seen his buddy be anything but friendly to everybody.

“Harley! That ain’t nice.”

“Yeah, Harley. Listen to pretty boy. If you don’t like me, you can always take a walk, bean pole.”

Harley whispered into CJ’s ear, no one else could hear what he said. “Sorry, CJ. The guy’s obnoxious, picks on everyone, thinks he’s popular, but everyone laughs at him behind his back. He’s a frickin’ pain in the ass.”

“Oh, isn’t that adorable. Pretty boy’s the bean pole’s new boyfriend.” The kid pushed his glasses up on his nose as he spoke.

“That ain’t nice either, Kenton. It’s Kenton, right? I’m CJ, not pretty boy. You shouldn’t go around calling people names; especially when you don’t know them.”

“Hashtag: polite. Whatever…”

Lunch was initially meant to be a private affair, giving CJ and Autumn a chance to get to know each other a little better; it turned out to be anything but. When Danek saw them walk into the cafeteria, he invited himself to their table. Soon after, José-María, the senior elected as the press liaison, and two other GSA members also joined them. Then three girls who had drooled over CJ a couple of days before, the ones who had him sit at their table for lunch, decided they had an interest in participating in the GSA.

CJ and Autumn looked at each other and laughed; the situation was funny enough any animosity was forgotten and they just enjoyed their time with the group.

“So, CJ, you and Harley…?” José-María raised his eyebrows as he asked the open-ended question. “I’ve seen you two together all the time since school started. I thought you were a couple.”

“What? No way. My dad dropped me off on his motorcycle the first day of class. Harley saw it and started talking to me. We’ve become friends real quick. And what do you mean you see us together all the time? You noticed us?”

“I always notice the good-looking guys, CJ.”

“Bruh, that senior hitting on you at lunch today was funny. One girl who was there thinks you’re hot and hopes you’re not gay. She kept asking about you in the class right after. I’m so psyched about going riding tomorrow with your dads. You said we’re headed over to Virginia? Frickin’ incredible!” Harley stopped his monologue mid-stream, pointing at a Harley-Davidson Edition Ford F-350 which had just pulled up to the curb right in front of them. “Check the truck out!”

“Close your mouth, Harley. You’re about to drool. Stop being a dork, it’s just a truck.” CJ chuckled at his friend’s reaction to Brett’s old black and orange pickup. “Come on, you like it so much, you might as well go for a ride in it.”

“What? But I was expecting the black Escalade.”

“Yeah, well, get in the back and don’t drool on the upholstery.” CJ grabbed the door handle, pulled it open, and jumped into the front seat. He leaned over and kissed Brett on the cheek. “Hey, Papa. Thanks for picking us up. This is Harley. Harley this is one of my dads, Captain Brett Davenport.”

“Uhhh… Nice to meet you, Captain Sir. I love your truck. And your motorcycle. I saw it when you dropped CJ off on the first day of class. Oh, and I love the Escalade CJ’s other dad drives too. Oh wow, you guys have the coolest stuff. Can you adopt me?”

“Geez. You weren’t kidding about his rapid-fire speaking, CJ. Hide the energy drinks once we get home!”

Brett and CJ both chuckled while Harley lowered his head, blushed, then joined in the laughter.

“I’m glad you’re spending the night and joining us for breakfast and our ride tomorrow morning.” César was leaning back on his stool, sipping on a Dos Equis Amber, while CJ and his friend stacked plates in the dishwasher. There was nothing left of the two pizzas they’d ordered for dinner, or the salad Brett had prepared to go with them.

“Thank you for inviting me, sir. I already told you how much I love riding my motorcycle when I’m in Wisconsin. I can’t wait ‘till I can get my license here in DC. My dad said I could bring it back next summer.” The boy was somewhat relaxed compared to how he normally acted at school. CJ wondered if he was intimidated by his dads or by the house.

“Well, we’re happy CJ’s made a good friend already. He spent this past summer mostly around our crowd. It’s good for him to have guys his own age to hang around with.”

“That can’t have been bad. I mean, spending all his time with you and your friends. I think it’s so frickin’ cool he got to be the best man at a double wedding, and he got to ride on your bikes, and hang around with a cop! Oh man, and his room is sweet! It’s ginormous. I can’t believe there’s only his room, and the guest room I’m using, on the second floor.”

“Harley, breathe, son. Breathe.” César hadn’t experienced the boy’s machine gun approach to conversation until just then. Harley had been too distracted by everything around him at first, and then too busy stuffing his face.

“I’m sorry, sir. I know I get excited sometimes and don’t know when to stop talking. My dad keeps telling me to shut up all the time.”

“You don’t have to shut up, Harley. It’s nice to see someone so animated. Just give us a chance to say something now and then.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

“Enough apologizing. Why don’t you guys get upstairs and watch a movie, or play video games or something? Enjoy yourselves. Just remember we want to get on the road early, which means getting up early. The two of you are in charge of breakfast tomorrow.”

“Hey, CJ. You awake, bruh?” Harley, wearing just gym shorts, stood in the doorway to CJ’s room.

“No, you dork. I’m still sleeping. But come in and make yourself at home anyway.” Harley walked in and jumped on CJ’s bed, landing across the foot of it.

“Whatcha doing?”

CJ sat with his back against the headboard, his tablet on his lap. “Checking e-mails. My little brother always writes on Friday, telling me all about his week. I save them to read Saturday mornings. It’s always a great way to start the weekend.”

“Sweet! Bruh, that bed was frickin’ awesome. I’m seriously wanting to get adopted and move in. Want an older brother?”

“Got one already. His name’s Dragon and he has a better tan than you.”

“Huh?”

“Joking, man. Dragon’s one of my dads’ friends. Big black guy, about ten years older than us, but acts like a kid most of the time.”

“Ohh. Cool. I don’t think my parents have any black friends. Is he gay too?”

“Yeah, he’s got a boyfriend. A British lawyer who’s an ex-boxer.”

“Bruh, I sooo want to move in. You have the coolest people around you all the time.”

“Pretty much the way it goes with the rents. They’ve got some great buds. I’ll read Ritchie’s e-mail later. Let me hit the bathroom and we’ll go fix breakfast.”

“I’ll go put on a shirt and shoes and―”

“Don’t bother. Those shorts are fine. The dads will probably come down in just their boxers. Only guys around, remember? No women to get offended.”

“Dope!”

“How’d you like the Elvis pancakes, Harley?”

“Frickin’ awesome, Cap.”

“Cap? Papa, I think you just got a new nickname!” CJ was enjoying having Harley around. He had to admit the guy was funny as hell.

“Ughh, sorry, Sir. I meant Captain. It’s just I was thinking of Captain America and thought Cap was a cool name for you. You being a soldier and all.”

“A Marine, Harley. I’m not a soldier. I’m a Marine. And Cap’s fine. So, you ever had pancakes with peanut butter and bananas in them before?”

“No, Sir. CJ said they’re like a health food. They remind me of Peanut Butter Crunch with a banana in them.”

Leaving DC, the men took I-66 West heading to Front Royal, Virginia and the North Entrance to Shenandoah National Park. They reached the town a little over an hour later, stopping for drinks, and to stretch their legs. The toll booth where they paid the admission fee was located on the edge of town and gave direct access to Skyline Drive.

“You’ve never done this ride before, right?” Harley asked the question while the ranger advised them of recent bear sightings near the road.

“Nope. We were supposed to do it Labor Day weekend, but you know those plans went down the drain by the shooting and all. Have you?”

“Yeah! Dad and I rode the Drive and then the Blue Ridge Parkway all the way to North Carolina when we first moved to D.C. You’re gonna frickin’ love it, bruh!”

CJ had read up on the road and the park on Wikipedia. He’d learned the mountain top road, designed for travelers in pre-technological America, was planned for leisurely drives and picnics for those wanting to escape the hot, humid weather of a Washington summer. Meant for times when the destination was not as important as the getting there. From the beginning, the road itself became part of there. The speed limit was low, but the views of the park were so magnificent, visitors seldom complained. The men made frequent stops to admire the scenery, pulling off to the side into one of the many spots designed for that purpose.

What CJ had read told him the road wound its way along the top of the Blue Ridge Mountains, east of the Shenandoah River. The many overlooks throughout the drive, provided views of the surrounding valleys, with the mountains in the background. And wildlife could often be seen on or near the blacktop. The warning the ranger had given them was a result of the park’s large population of black bears. She had stressed the need to keep the speed down; collisions between motorcycles and bears had occurred where neither machine nor animal survived.

At an overlook the men stopped at to snap pictures, they ran into a biker, riding solo on a beautiful older Road King. The gorgeous teal of the bike glimmered in the sunlight; it seemed an appropriate color when CJ noticed the HD motorcycle had a Florida license plate.

“Good morning, Sir. Your bike’s beautiful. Perfect color for one from Florida. Where are you from?” CJ had approached the older gentleman, who was leaning against the Harley, head tilted up enjoying the warmth of the autumn sun. The man was wearing jeans, black leather chaps, a t-shirt, and a leather vest covered in lapel pins. His arms were a riot of colors, both entirely inked. His salt and pepper hair was short, as was the beard of the same color. His face was tan, and when he removed his sunglasses, his green eyes seemed to smile. “I’m CJ. I was born in Miami but home is in Washington now.”

“Howdy, guys. Guess we’re kinda neighbors, son. Grew up in Miami myself, but these days Fort Lauderdale’s home.”

CJ took several pictures of the older motorcycle, with the retaining rock wall and the Blue Ridge Mountains as a backdrop. After they had ridden the Skyline Drive for a couple of hours, they switched to Route 33 which they then followed until they stopped for lunch at Ruckersville. It was then, as they looked at the images on his phone, he realized they’d forgotten to ask the man his name.

“What did you think, guys? Did you enjoy it? Maybe next time we’ll go all the way to Charlottesville so you can visit Monticello.” They’d just ordered their food, Brett had gone to the men’s room, and César was sitting alone with the two boys. He looked at CJ when he mentioned the possible destination.

“That’d be sick, Dad. I’d love to see Jefferson’s house. Maybe Harley can come with us on that trip also?”

“Sure, but maybe Harley would like to join us next weekend first?” César liked his son’s friend. Harley appeared to be a solid, if slightly hyper, kid. He wanted to encourage CJ to make friends his age.

“What’s going on next weekend?” CJ wasn’t aware they had anything planned.

“Papa and I talked to Tommy and JP last night. Doc finally cleared him to get out on the catamaran again. They invited us to go out on the PP Saturday morning, spend the night on the river, and come back Sunday. Think your parents would let you join us, Harley?”

“They better! That would be frickin’ awesome! I may never leave your place, CJ. Bruh, the day I met you was my lucky day.”