Punk Like Me (5 page)

We’d go to stores like Unique Boutique and buy $2.00 coats, or rummage through stuff at Canal Jean and play with all the guitars in Umanov’s, then go over to Googies on MacDougal for a hot chocolate (the best in the world—really—just ignore the roaches) if it was cold, grab pretzels or dirty-water dogs (street-vendor hot dogs—I Þ gured I’d explain just in case that’s just a New York thing to call them) and sit in Washington Square Park, avoiding the drug dealers (hey—just say no, right?) and watching the skate punks do their thing.

We’d laugh over the stuff in the window at the Pink Pussycat (um, go look for yourself, okay?) and wander around, just having a great time being, well, us. Sometimes one of us would save for a couple of weeks (Nicky saved for three months to get this cool leather motorcycle jacket), and then we’d make a special trip to pick up that truly necessary item.

Other days, we spent hours in the small record shops, looking for stuff by Sisters of Mercy or Bauhaus or U2—import stuff you couldn’t and still can’t get here, and especially not in corporate conglomerate chain stores, and the same thing with certain comic books and collectibles. Everything we listened to was underground, and so was

• 37 •

everywhere we went.

Occasionally, if it was three or more of us going (‘cuz we’d hook up with other friends), the parental units would give us permission to stay out, and we’d swear we were all of age as we went in to see the
The Rocky Horror Picture Show
on Eighth Street, to be thrilled by the sweet transvestite, the virgin, and the asshole—and if you don’t know what I’m talking about, you’re a virgin, too.

So, this is what we did, no big mystery, and no big whoop either, except that before, Joey and Jack hadn’t ever really wanted to go with us, and we’d never really asked them—so this time they asked us, which is kinda weird, thinking back on it.

We all met up at my house and got to the ferry without incident.

It was a warm day for November, so we decided to stand outside on the deck, on the “ground” level, where the cars are. We leaned up against the railing on the right, uh, starboard side of the boat, with Joey snugged up against my back and Jack and Kerry holding hands, and it was all nice in its own way, two best friends dating two best friends, and everybody happy just to be alive and hanging out together, with the wind and the salt spray in our faces.

Kerry and I had decided ahead of time that we’d get straight to the heart of it all and take the subway up to the Village instead of walking. We wanted to show off for the guys, since neither one of them had ever ridden on the subway before, while not only had we ridden frequently, we’d actually mastered the art of “subway surÞ ng.” Oh, and that’s a way of balancing while you’re standing on a fast, bumpy ride in such a manner that you’re “riding” the train—like a surfboard or a skateboard—without holding on to anything, and then not falling or stumbling when the ride stops. Try it if you get a chance.

So there we were, on the R train and headed uptown, both guys trying to be as casual as could be, sitting there in the muck and mire (not to mention the smell) that’s part and parcel of the NYC public transportation experience.

“Hey—there’s, like, all sorts of freaks and stuff in the Village,” Joey announced authoritatively, like he knew all about it, “and we want to make sure you guys are, you know”—I raised my eyebrow at him—

“protected,” he Þ nished and put an arm around my waist.

“Yeah,” Jack chimed in, nodding his head in agreement. “You two really shouldn’t travel here alone all the time. It can be really dangerous,” and he reached for Kerry’s hand.

• 38 •

PUNK LIKE ME

I stood up and reached for the center pole, Joey’s hand still on my waist, and Kerry stood with me. We looked at each other and rolled our eyes—what a pair of ’burb babies—then I gave Kerry my own version of an evil grin.

“Ya know, guys, there’s lots and lots of gay people there,” I said with the straightest face I could muster. Truth to tell, the “gayest” thing we’d seen was those pink triangles on certain stores and on bumpers.

Contrary to popular belief, the Village is not overrun with gay people doing it in the street and scaring the horses. I don’t think we’d even seen two guys or two girls holding hands, never mind anything else, in all our trips there, except for onscreen at
The
Rocky Horror Picture
Show
. “And I think maybe you’ll need our protection. You’re both pretty good-looking and all—”

“Oh yeah, chicken hawks are so gonna loooooove them!” Kerry added, and I knew then, no matter what happened, she’d back me up, like always. But something surprised me. I didn’t realize she’d even know that the term “chicken hawk” existed, let alone what it meant, and from the way she’d just said it, I knew she wasn’t speaking out of ignorance. I wondered how she’d learned it, and I wondered what else she knew.

The boys looked at each other in consternation, then Jack’s eyes widened in such a way you could almost actually see a lightbulb ß ash over his head. “Hey, maybe we should act like we’re couples and then we won’t get hit on,” he suggested very seriously, looking at each of us for approval. All three of us stared at him like he’d grown horns and sprouted wings, or at least I did.

“Uh, Jack?” Joey interjected, “we are couples.”

“Oh no, not us,” he indicated him and Kerry, and Joey and me,

“but us!” And he pointed to himself and Jack, and me and Kerry.

I smiled and was about to laugh it off and protest, but Kerry turned around, grabbed my hand, and said in mock seriousness, “Hey, baby, it’s a dream come true.” She grinned to let me know she was joking, then slid an arm around my waist.

I loosely hung an arm around her shoulder. “Fine by me,” I agreed and grinned back, then angled my gaze and stuck my jaw out a bit at the boys, daring them. Come on, guys, who’s cool enough to play? That was my attitude.

Jack twisted in his seat to face Joey. “Oh my love,” he declaimed in his stagiest, gooÞ est tone, and spread his arms for a huge hug, but

• 39 •

Joey put his hands up to ward him off.

“No, that’s just silly looking,” Joey corrected. “I’m a foot taller than you, anyway. You come over here,” and he grabbed Jack in a headlock, then tucked him up under his arm.

Just like that, the game was joined and there we were—two couples, now two different couples, and my God, how different they’d become since we’d left home.

I sat down, and Kerry sat across from me, leaned over, glanced down for a minute, then back up at me, ß ipping her hair over to reveal a gleam of intent in her eyes and a sarcastic twist to her mouth. “I love you so much, I’d jump off a building into a pile of bricks for you.” She smiled.

Jack, picking up on the game, turned to Joey and said, “I love you so much, I’d swim in the Fresh Kill,” which, by the way, is this really slimy, disgusting, polluted waterway that runs through part of Staten Island.

“Oh, yeah?” Joey challenged. “I love you so much, I’d drink it!”

“Ewww, gross!” we all chorused, then everyone turned to focus on me. Well, it was apparently my turn, so I guess I had to come up with something good. No pressure, right?

Fine then. I took a second to collect myself and then Kerry’s hand in mine. I slowly let out the breath I’d been holding, then stared right into her eyes. “I love you so much,” I told her softly, then took a slow breath and let the silence build before I gazed up at her again, “I’d jump off a building, get caught on a nail on the way down, and
then
land on a pile of bricks for you.” I delivered that last line with a triumphant big grin.

Kerry ducked her head shyly, letting her hair curtain her face, then peered up at me from behind the long pink strand that fell over her eyes.

She’d just put that stripe in the night before, and it Þ t her perfectly.

Her face was so very soft at that very second, and I’d never seen that expression in her eyes before. Then I noticed her lips, and I wondered what it would be like to touch the corner of her mouth.

All of a sudden, I realized the train was screeching into our stop, and I dropped my eyes and Kerry’s hand as I stood up to wait for the doors to open.

“Okay, then,” Joey announced, clapping his hands together, “let’s go with plan gay. C’mon, Jack, you little stud mufÞ n you,” and making that classic pincer motion, he chased Jack’s butt off the train. They

• 40 •

PUNK LIKE ME

shoved their way past Kerry and me out onto the platform, where our adventure would begin.

Kerry turned to me. “Shall we?” she asked, holding her arm out in invitation.

“Certainly, let’s!” I agreed as I placed my arm through hers, and together, we put our noses in the air and marched out of the subway car to join the guys.

This went on for the rest of the day—the joking, the crazy declarations of love-proof, as Kerry and I walked hand in hand and Joey kept his arm around Jack’s shoulders. We took those boys everywhere we could, trying to give them culture shock, and we went to all of our favorite hangouts, all the stores and the neat street markets. We fed them bagels and Thai food, hot dogs and gelato, and as the day came drawing to a close, I realized two things: I’d had a great time on this weird double date with the guys, and I really,
really
liked holding Kerry’s hand.

At that point, the thought occurred to me that maybe I shouldn’t enjoy this so much, that I might be in trouble somehow, but we were having too much fun, and I told that thought to go hide. It did.

On the subway platform on Eighth Street and Broadway, waiting for the train that would take us back to the ferry and then home, Jack and Joey kept up their “couple” façade. “I think,” Joey said to Jack,

“I’ve waited long enough to kiss you, and I think you owe me after all those salted pretzels. C’mere, my love pony.” And he spread his arms in welcome invitation.

Jack stepped into the space and placed his hands on Joey’s waist, but then drew back a second to look at Kerry and me. And I’ll be honest, I was absolutely shocked—my eyes were so large, I think I felt my eyebrows touch my brain. Kerry and I were standing next to each other, but not touching, and as I glanced over at her to see what she thought, I saw an expression that matched mine.

She slipped her arm around my waist. “No fucking way!” she exhaled in soft surprise.

“Dudettes, this is a private moment,” Jack informed us haughtily,

“do you mind?”

“Not at all,” I managed to stutter out. I wasn’t sure if anyone was still joking anymore, and “plan gay” seemed to be more and more a reality than a game. I was deÞ nitely a little confused as I started to turn away and walk to another part of the platform. I think my brain had

• 41 •

short-circuited.

But Kerry’s brain seemed to be working just Þ ne. “Well, Þ ne then.” She pulled me tighter before I could step away—for such a little person she could be very aggressive. “You kiss Joey, and I’ll go kiss Nina in decent privacy.”

I don’t know what I was thinking, but she bumped her hip against my side (you know, the side bump, that hey-we’re-a-team gesture thing), and we swaggered off the platform, around the other side of the wall where a tunnel led off to another platform for another train. We must have been amused at some level, because we were both giggling about the whole thing.

“Geez,” I heard Jack’s voice ß oat out from behind us somewhere in a low tone, “you think they’re really gonna do it?”

“They know we’re only joking, right?” Joey reasoned with him.

“You sure couldn’t tell by
me
!” I called out in answer out over my shoulder.

“Shit, Joey, they’re
really
gonna do it!” Jack was starting to freak out.

“Fucker!” exclaimed Joey, and with that, they came running after us.

We both started to laugh at hearing that, but Kerry started moving, too, and stopped for a second to grab my hand. “C’mon!” she earnestly urged, looking up at me, and for whatever reason, I ran with her, the guys’ footsteps sounding from not too far behind.

I don’t know how we did it, but we ß ew through that tunnel and took a wrong turn somewhere. We ended up on an abandoned platform and were forced to stop, nowhere to run, the guys coming up our backs, the tracks in front of us, and only God-knew-what in the dark and now-unused rail tunnels that lay to either side.

Still holding hands, Kerry and I faced each other, laughing, breathless, and for the space of a couple of heartbeats, we just simply gazed into one another’s eyes. And I knew at the deepest gut level that we were trying to read each other’s minds, trying to discern what was real, who was fooling who, if it was safe to just stop playing.

In those moments, it wasn’t a game anymore, and I was starting to suspect that maybe, just maybe, it hadn’t been for a while, because something was happening. My chest buzzed and my head felt light, and somehow our faces got closer and closer, and she and I both knew, because I could feel it in me and see it in her eyes, that it was going to

• 42 •

PUNK LIKE ME

happen, that in another half second—

“They’re over here!” Jack called out, and my head snapped at the sound to see them come charging around the corner. They caught themselves, then sauntered casually the rest of the way toward us.

“I told you they wouldn’t,” Joey threw over his shoulder in arrogant superiority to Jack. “Hey hey there, I think we’ve had enough of plan gay for a day,” he admonished as he approached. “That’s it.”

“Yeah, enough for now,” Jack agreed, stepping behind Kerry and wrapping his arms around her.

Kerry’s eyes caught mine, and I read confusion and maybe even a slight appeal for help in her expression. “I don’t know.” I cocked an eyebrow at Joey and Jack, viewing them both with obvious doubt. “You guys looked pretty cozy over there.” Kerry and I still held hands.

“It was a joke. We planned it when you guys went to the bathroom at Googies,” Joey explained as he wrapped his arms around me and lifted me bodily away.