Rainbow Boys (21 page)

“What are you taking that picture for?” Nelson asked.

She glanced evasively out the car window. “You’ll see.”

The meeting was packed with people. Mueller sat in the front row. Fenner Farley’s dad clenched a placard that read: DICK & JANE, NOT DICK

& W AY NE. Fenner sat in his shadow.

Ms. MacTraugh waved to Nelson. She’d saved seats for him and his mom. The board president called the meeting to order and explained that each person who wished to speak would be assigned a number and allotted one minute. Both Nelson and his mom signed up. “You go first,” Nelson told her, still not sure what he was going to say.

The first several people who spoke were civil—until Fenner’s dad. “This so-called alliance is stirring things up to the detriment of the entire community, just so a few sick individuals can prey on our children and recruit them into a life of sin. They want to promote a homosexual agenda and contaminate our young people with vile diseases like A IDS.” He spewed on about family values till the president banged her gavel.

He sounds as stupid as Fenner, Nelson thought.

MacTraugh’s number was called. “Massachusetts is a pioneer in this area,” she said. “State education policy bans antigay discrimination, making schools safe for gay and lesbian students.”

Fenner’s dad yelled, “Then move to Massachusetts!”

The president banged her gavel, and MacTraugh continued: “A s parents and teachers, we have a responsibility to ensure our children are safe from antigay harassment, intimidation, and violence. A s a community we should promote understanding between individuals of any sexual orientation. The alliance will adhere to the same guidelines as any other extracurricular group. Such groups are sanctioned under federal law, which prohibits a school club from being banned because of its religious, political, or philosophical views. If we single out the proposed group, we fuel the fires of ignorance, fear, intolerance, and hatred. Is that the message we want to give our young people?”

Nelson’s mom was called next. She walked to the front and sat at the microphone. “It’s said a picture is worth a thousand words. Since I only have one minute …” She opened her pocketbook and passed the photo of six year-old Nelson to the board president.

Nelson squirmed with embarrassment as his mom continued: “That’s my son, taken his first morning of kindergarten. Smiling. Happy.

When I picked him up that afternoon, however, you would see a very different picture of him. Crying. Hurt. Sad. You see, his very first day of school he learned a new word: ‘sissy.’ The next morning he begged me not to make him go back.” Nelson had forgotten all that. Now he understood why she’d brought the photo.

“I promised him school would get better. I believed it then. Now I realize I lied. For the past twelve years, every single school day he’s been called names and obscenities, while most teachers have stood by silently. Some school officials even told him he brought it upon himself.”

She looked at Mr. Mueller, who turned away from her gaze.

“Simply because he walks and talks differently from other boys, he’s been hit, kicked, beat up, spit upon, and received death threats.” Nelson slid down in his seat, wishing she hadn’t told everyone he’d been spit upon.

She looked straight at him. “There have been days when I wished my son hadn’t been born gay. Not because I love him less for it,” she said emphatically, “but so he wouldn’t have to endure so much suffering.” She looked at Fenner’s dad. “Some here talk about family values while in the same breath they disparage a group that would foster values of tolerance and understanding. I don’t know what those families have as their values. But I know students should be able to attend school without being abused. I believe this group will help achieve that. Thank you.” School board members passed the photograph back, looked at one another, and nodded.

Nelson sat thinking. In spite of his embarrassment, he sensed his mom had made the best point of anyone yet.

The next number was called, but no one stood up. “That’s your number!” MacTraugh whispered. Nelson rushed to the front and sat down. The school board members stared at him. He shifted in the hard wooden seat, still without a clue what to say. “Uh, in case you don’t recognize me from the photo, that was me.” He meant it as a joke, except no one laughed.

But his mom smiled. He cleared his throat, a little reassured. “Not every gay teenager has a mom like mine. Most teens don’t. Most aren’t even out to their parents, or anyone else. There’s a reason for that. A s you just heard, it’s dangerous being gay.” A s he spoke, he felt increasingly confident. “Some people ask: Why do we need a Gay-Straight A lliance? Why do you have to make such a big issue out of being gay? Well, we wouldn’t need a GSA if everyone accepted and respected—or at least tolerated—people who are different.”

He narrowed his eyes at Fenner’s dad. “Some people talk about a homosexual threat. Excuse me, but who’s really being threatened in this situation? The purpose of our club isn’t to ‘recruit’ anyone. What we hope to do is change attitudes and build understanding.” He stared out at the sea of faces and wondered whether his message was getting through. “Look, whether or not this group is approved won’t affect me. I graduate this year. I’m doing this for those who come after me. Do you really want to make them go through the …” He was about to say “shit” but caught himself. He realized he was getting angry and took a breath to calm down. “Don’t put them through what I’ve been through. You can make school a safer place for everyone. You have the power. It’s up to you.” A s he returned to his seat, MacTraugh whispered, “Bravo!”

When he sat down, his mom grabbed hold of his hand. “I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He let her squeeze his palm a moment. “Can I just ask you a favor? Next time, can you use a better picture of me? I really hate that one.”

Mueller spoke next, proclaiming some wussy crap about how he wanted to keep an open mind. “I have nothing against students who consider themselves gay. My concern is the club would distract others from learning.” Oh, please, Nelson thought, and turned away. The meeting lasted until after ten.

That Saturday Kyle had another swim meet, so Nelson went by himself to the Rainbow group. When he walked in, Jeremy waved and motioned to the seat beside him. “Wow! When did you buzz your head? It looks cool.”

“Thanks.” Nelson grinned. “A couple of weeks ago.”

Carla, the day’s facilitator, led introductions and opened the meeting. “Today we’re going to talk about HIV.” Several people moaned, and Nelson chimed in, “A gain?”

“Yes.” Carla gave a patient frown. “A gain.”

Nelson whispered to Jeremy, “I’m so tired of A IDS shit. The last thing I want is a lecture from some bozo.” Carla overheard him. “It’s not a lecture. We’re going to hear a personal story from one of our members.” She glanced beside him.

“Jeremy?”

Nelson instantly flushed with embarrassment. Oh, God. He slid down in his seat, hiding his face behind his hand.

“Wish bozo luck!” Jeremy whispered, and walked to the front of the group. Nelson slid down in his seat, hiding his face behind his hand.

“I asked to speak to you today to tell you my story. I’m a little nervous, since most of you don’t know, but …” He hesitated and took a deep breath. “Two years ago I tested HIV positive.”

Nelson uncovered his face and sat up in his seat. Jeremy was HIV positive.

Jeremy tapped the stool he leaned against. “One night I went home with a guy. I didn’t have the self-esteem to say I wanted to have safer sex. I thought, ‘God, if I bring it up, he may not want to have sex with me. He doesn’t look HIV positive. What’s one time?’” Nelson listened attentively. That’s my story, he thought. He’s telling my story.

“Well,” Jeremy continued. “That’s all it took: one time. I’ve felt too ashamed to talk about it. But now I hope that by talking with you, you can learn from my stupidity.” He paused for a moment. “No. Not stupidity. Lack of self-esteem. I didn’t think I was worth it. Maybe by telling you about me, you won’t make the same mistake I did.”

He went on to talk more about how he decided to get tested, how depressed he became, and how he got to the point of thinking about suicide, before he finally reached out for help.

Others in the room leaned forward, listening. During the entire half hour Jeremy spoke, no one interrupted or gave him a hard time, like they did with other speakers. Nelson felt ashamed for having judged Jeremy like he had. It wasn’t fair that anyone should have to go through HIV. It amazed him that Jeremy could talk so truthfully. He has guts, Nelson thought, more than I do.

When Jeremy finished speaking, the room was more quiet than Nelson had ever experienced it. Carla broke the silence. “Would you mind if people ask questions?”

Jeremy nodded. “Sure.”

A boy wearing a jean jacket spoke up. “Don’t you feel angry at the guy? I’d kill him.” Jeremy glanced down for a moment, then met the boy’s eyes. “Yeah, I’m angry. But it’s not like he twisted my arm—or anything else, for that matter.”

It impressed Nelson that Jeremy could joke about it like that.

“Seriously, I’m trying to do something good with the anger, you know?”

A girl raised her hand. “What did your parents say?”

Jeremy sighed. “Well, when I found out, I knew I had to tell them, but I hadn’t come out to them yet. I was too afraid. When I finally told my dad, he actually hugged me. That was a shock. My mom took it badly. She still cries every once in a while, when I have a doctor’s appointment or something. It’s been hard on them to find out I’m gay and HIV positive all at once.”

“Do you ever wish you hadn’t gotten tested?” another girl asked.

Jeremy scratched his chin. “Sometimes. But I figure it’s better, so I won’t infect others.” Nelson raised his hand tentatively. “Did you ever see the guy again?”

Jeremy shook his head. “Nope. I’m kind of glad. I wouldn’t know what to say.” Nelson nodded and thought of Brick.

A few more people asked questions, then it was time for the break. A fter the meeting, a group of boys surrounded Jeremy, asking questions and shaking his hand. Nelson waited till they cleared out, hoping he could invite Jeremy for a Coke and talk.

“Hey, I’m sorry about the ‘bozo’ comment.”

Jeremy smiled. “You should have seen your face when I got up to speak.”

Nelson felt himself blush. “Uh, do you want to go for a Coke or something?” To his relief and astonishment, Jeremy said yes.

In the restaurant, Nelson fidgeted with his cup and glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “A few weeks ago,” he whispered confidentially, “I went home with a guy.” He paused to check Jeremy’s reaction.

“Yeah?” Jeremy nodded.

Nelson took a deep breath, then rushed the words out. “I didn’t use a condom. There, I said it.” He smashed his straw between his fingers. “What if I got infected? Just my luck! The first time I get laid.” He tossed his straw aside.

“I hope not,” Jeremy said. “But if you did, it’s not the end of the world.” That wasn’t much consolation. “Oh, great,” Nelson said.

“Look,” Jeremy told him. “I remember when I got my test results. I stopped going to school. I didn’t eat. I thought, ‘Why bother? I’ll never go to college. I’ll never have sex again. Life’s over.’” He sighed. “But it wasn’t.” He pulled out a pill case, taking out an orange capsule and a white, diamond-shaped pill and swallowing them. “The meds are a pain, but like they say, it’s better than the alternative.”

“So that’s what I have to look forward to?”

“Nelson, I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. If I could go back, I’d do things differently. But in many ways this has helped me grow up. I see things a lot more clearly now. I know what’s important.”

Nelson pondered everything Jeremy had said, both at the meeting and now. Out of all of it, there was one thing he remained curious about. “So, do you still …” He hesitated. Could he really ask it? He steadied himself with the table and finished his question: “… have sex?” A s soon as he said it, he realized it sounded like a come-on. He hadn’t meant it that way—or had he?

Jeremy grinned. “Yeah, though not often enough.” He laughed. “I just make sure I tell the person I’m positive. A nd I insist on being safe.”

Later Nelson stared at Jeremy’s scribbled phone number. He couldn’t believe he’d actually had the nerve to ask for it—and that Jeremy had asked for his in return.

Jason regretted what had happened with Kyle in the cafeteria. He felt bad for the way he’d put Kyle off, but at the same time it hurt that Kyle had called him a creep.

In the days following, he spent hours closed up in his room thinking about his future and what Corey had said about his career. He needed to forget about Kyle and this whole coming-out thing. He wanted no more to do with Kyle. Then why couldn’t he get his mind off him? His restlessness drove him out of the house and into the night. He pounded the basketball court till his mom drove up, insisting he come home.