Commitment Issues (29 page)

"We kicked him out of the family,” Mason said.

"It's your nephew's sixteenth birthday,” I said.

"Today?” Wyatt asked. “Really?"

Mason nodded. I saw a dozen police cars with flashing lights. A little further back was an army of television vans with satellite dishes on the top of each van.

"You can really pick days for your birthday,” Agent Iacocca said. “You going to have trouble remembering your sixteenth birthday?"

"Maybe when I'm as old as you and my mind starts fading."

"I'm thirty-two,” Iacocca protested.

"Like I said."

Agent Iacocca started to walk over to where the cameras were, and I saw camera flashes going off as Agent Iacocca spoke.

"Okay, first. How's Mommy?"

"I don't really know, but they said she didn't look good. Sorry, but I figured you wouldn't want me to sugarcoat the truth."

He nodded.

"All his kids are safe,” Mason said as he held Wyatt's hand, “so Gramps is up there with a smile."

"I don't know about that,” Wyatt laughed. “Mommy might be joining him soon. I mean, can't the poor guy get a few days to enjoy heaven first?"

There were three photos on the front page of the Madison newspaper the next day. It was Monday, and we were the major story around the country. One of the pictures was Mason with that beautiful Nelson grin. There was also a picture of Whitlock's car sticking out of the RV. The other picture was a publicity picture of me.

The headline was that the FBI had caught the abortion clinic bomber in Madison, but I got a smaller headline just under the big one. The paper used the same front-page font that they'd have used to announce World War Three. It was huge. The only things visible above the fold were the headlines and the pictures. There were several related stories that started on the bottom half of the front page. We crowded everything other than little teasers off the front page. The Madison paper said the abortion clinic bomber was also a celebrity's stalker. It said the celebrity helped to take down the bad guy. I had to remember to needle Mason about that.

"Chinga, puto,” Janie Marroquin said on the phone.

"I'm fine. Thanks for asking,” I said. “You get the tape from the station?"

"Yeah, but is it true that you were coming back from the recording?"

"It's true."

"Boss wants to cut your newscast into two pieces,” she said. “We got somebody to fill out the show Monday. They want to weave your car chase into the... you know."

"Milk it, honey,” I laughed.

"I will,” she said.

"Make sure everybody knows that Mason was the real hero here."

"I thought you were driving."

"I was,” I said, “but here's the truth. I was so pissed that I was racing down I-39 without even noticing that I had a stowaway."

"He was there, and you didn't know it?"

"Right, the squirt was hiding in the very back of the SUV. I didn't know he was there until I swerved and heard him hit his head."

"Then what?"

"Well, then he crawled up to help look out for Wyatt because we didn't know what kind of car they were in."

"Dangerous."

I gave Janie a quick run-down of the rest of the story, concluding with how Whitlock's car had gone head-first into a brand new RV in a dealer lot.

"Yeah, I've seen the picture on MSNBC."

"Really? Make the dealer an offer. You might get a good deal on the RV."

"This is an awesome story, Sean. And you were on your way back from recording your show?"

"Yup, but there's one more thing. It was Mason's sixteenth birthday."

"Holy shit,” she said. “I don't even think you can drive at sixteen in Wisconsin. I'll have to check the law. Okay, thanks. Boss says you aren't welcome here for two weeks."

"Two weeks?” I said.

"Mandatory vacation,” she said. “We got you covered, and your ratings are going to be through the roof on your first show back. Take care of your throat, because everybody and their kitchen sink will be listening."

"Thanks,” I told her.

"Mother died a few minutes ago,” Wyatt said as he came into the kitchen of his brother's house. I just nodded. I was sitting at the breakfast table.

"What about the funerals?"

"Well, we're not having anything until later. I guess you can do your show live."

"Nope,” I said. “I just talked to Janie Marroquin, and she said that we weren't allowed back home for two weeks."

"You got a great boss."

"Yeah, I got a great husband,” I said as I pulled him closer. “And he's got a terrific family."

It was one of those smiles that showed me there was a lot going on under the surface. He was being torn in lots of directions at once.

"Hey, I'm here for you, Wyatt. There's no broadcast, and nobody's trying to shoot at us or blow us apart."

He nodded as he started to cry. I pulled him down, and he sat on my lap. We hugged for a long time, and I just let him cry without trying to stop him. He needed it. It was the first time he could grieve for his father without worrying about anything else. It was the first time in months that nobody was trying to kill him.

"I love you so much,” he finally said as he leaned in and gave me a kiss.

"Eee-uuu,” Cathy said as she walked into the kitchen. “Gross."

The Nelsons buried two parents in a single Lutheran ceremony late the next week. Toomas and his wife and all three kids sat together in the front row of the church. Wyatt and I sat on the front row just across from the main aisle. Katariina was right behind us, and Susan, her FBI agent, was there in a wheelchair. Agent Iacocca was there, and Susan's FBI partner was there too.

If nobody knew the real story, they'd think we were all just back from the front lines of some war. My face was bruised, and Wyatt walked with a limp. Katariina had an arm in a sling, and she was doting after her new girlfriend in a wheelchair.

Toomas gave the eulogy for both parents. He said all the kids loved them both, each in different ways. He thanked both the parents for everybody's upbringing. He even thanked Mason and me for ending the hostage situation without any more Nelsons being killed. I didn't look, but I was sure that Mason was showing plenty of teeth in that Nelson smile. Not every kid got that kind of public approval from a parent.

Mason's move was getting approval from people all over the country. One state politician proposed changing the driving laws just so Mason could have a license, but Debbie had gone on TV to say there wouldn't be any more driving until Mason was at least thirty.

"I want to propose a toast,” I said as I raised my glass.

"That's iced coffee,” Mason said. “Aren't you supposed to toast with champagne?"

"Your Uncle Wyatt and I are both in AA,” I said. “We don't do booze."

"We can,” Mason said, and his date agreed. Wyatt and I were treating Mason and Todd, Mason's new boyfriend, to a night on the town. We were starting at the best restaurant I could afford, and we were planning to go over to a dance at the local university. Agent Iacocca had already checked to see if it would be okay for a couple of underage gay kids to crash their party. He promised to be there to supervise. When the university people heard it was Mason Nelson, they almost fell all over themselves to make him feel welcome. I think they would have renamed the dance “Mason Nelson Appreciation Shindig” if they could. Mason was a local celebrity, and I knew he'd milk that for every ounce he could.

"You won't be doing alcohol tonight,” Wyatt scolded. “Lift your glass, and be happy here. Work with us."

Mason rolled his eyes, but he lifted his glass.

"To two young men,” I said.

"To two old geysers,” Mason said.

"Geezers,” Todd volunteered.

"Like he said,” Mason agreed.

"Fuck off,” I whispered, “both of you."

"Can he talk to us like that?” Todd said.

"Mind is the first to go in a senior citizen,” Mason needled.

"He's twenty-five, Mason,” Wyatt said.

"See?” Mason continued.

"Bite me,” I said.

"I saved the day,” Mason laughed, “and I still can't get any respect."

We finished our meal and then saw a group of police cars in the parking lot.

"Great,” Wyatt said. “What now?"

I shrugged as we walked outside. Agent Iacocca was in the crowd.

"Your police escort is here,” he said as all the police cars turned on their flashing lights.

"No shit?” Mason said.

"Clean your mouth, boy,” Iacocca said. “These are respectable officers, and they're here to honor you."

"Sweet,” Todd said.

"Let's roll,” Mason said as he leaned over to kiss Todd on the mouth.

And we rolled. Mason and Todd were the stars of the college dance party. Wyatt and I got our turn on the dance floor too, but we didn't want to get in the way of Mason's big night. We were there to enjoy dancing, not to show off in front of college kids. There were plenty of cell phones, so I was sure the dance would go viral on YouTube or Facebook.

The rest of the dance floor slowly filled in. It was all boy/girl at first, but then I saw boy couples come over to dance. A couple of girl couples were there too.
Madison must be an awesome place to grow up gay.
Mason would be able to date without having to hide or even go to gay-only places. The whole city took sexual orientation and threw it away as an issue. Mason could be a kid without always having to be a gay kid. Wow.

The other police cars went back to their regular duties. The FBI agents said goodbye too. Within an hour, it was just the four of us. Mason and Todd were enjoying themselves and their raging hormones, and I had to slap Mason down a few times when he was about to cross that line. I told him that I didn't want to have to apologize to his mother or father, and he somehow got the message.

Todd was just happy to be there, and he didn't seem to be affected by the extra attention. He was just a kid out on a dance date. When I saw them both dancing, it was wonderful. Todd was your basic teenager, lanky and a little uncoordinated. He was cute too. Mason was almost as girly as Wyatt, and that made him even more wonderful to be around. There was something about an effeminate Nelson that made me feel great.

When I looked at the teenagers dancing, I noticed that Mason was always leading. Todd was following. The butch one was following. Why was that not a surprise to me?
What is it about these nelly Nelson men?

The love of my life was there. Wyatt was still the most beautiful man that I had ever seen. He was fully clothed, except in my imagination. When he smiled, his green eyes still danced inside those Asian eyelids. His blond hair bounced as he danced. It wasn't just that I wanted to rip all his clothes off—which I did—but I really just wanted to be with him. His expression told me that he was feeling exactly the same way. The two of us were together, and I felt the rest of the world fade away. Everything but Wyatt was just a blur. Fucking wow.

We danced and kissed, and I saw Todd and Mason dancing and kissing. It was almost as though they were watching us for inspiration. I had to remember not to get too intimate with Wyatt, because I really didn't want to have to explain any cell phone video to Debbie or Toomas.

Sometime after ten thirty, Wyatt pointed to his wrist. He wasn't wearing a watch, but I knew what he meant.

"Hey guys,” I told the boys. “We have to get you home."

"Oh, Uncle Sean,” Mason said. “We're having fun."

"Me too, but the university has a curfew."

"Does not."

"Does, and don't even think about saying anything other than ‘Thank you for the great evening.’”

"Thank you for the great evening,” Todd and Mason said in unison like it was practiced. We thanked all the college kids, and they gave Mason a round of applause. They gave all of us university T-shirts.

Both boys lived in Baraboo, just outside of Madison. It was a nice night for a drive. I drove the rental car just to show Mason that I could stay down at a double-digit speed if I wanted. We let Todd off at his house, and I saw him go in. Todd's mother waved out the front door. Everything was fine there.

We then took Mason back to his house.

He came up to the passenger window to say goodbye. He gave Wyatt a hug and a peck on the cheek.

"Hey, Mason,” I said.

"Hey, Uncle Sean,” he said as he stuck his head back in the window.

"Who was it that taught you that move with the steering wheel?"

"I don't know, some guy I saw at school."

"Some guy? Use more words."

"Yeah, he was there to do safety training to teach kids how to get away from rapists. It was a long time ago."

"And he told the whole class about how to crash a car in a high-speed chase? That's irresponsible."

"No,” Mason said. “It was like a year and a half ago at least. The guy pulled me aside after the presentation. He was just talking. I was the only one he told about that. He told me all the things you had to remember about the move so you didn't flip your own car. He said it was some law enforcement thing, and he said you just never knew when you might—"

"Some guy?"

"Yeah. He said his name was Rafa."

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Texas doesn't recognize their marriage even though it was done by a real priest in a real Old Catholic Church during Mass. God recognizes the marriage even if the state doesn't. “Texas versus God,” Wynn says. “I pick God."

Wynn is an archbishop and president of the World Conference of Old Catholic Churches and Coadjutor of the North American Old Catholic Church.

He has written numerous gay and spiritual books. The author Patricia Nell Warren calls him a “powerhouse in GLBT publishing."

Before that, he was a programmer who helped write the tax software used by some of the world's largest corporations. He also wrote Opus-CBCS, a computer bulletin board system that was wildly popular in the 1980s. Opus generated millions of dollars for HIV and AIDS, back when almost nobody was helping fund research or caring for those suffering from the disease. He also wrote a short piece called “HIV: Day One” for those who have just learned they have HIV.