Rainbow Boys (23 page)

A horn beeped outside. Nelson glanced out the window. “There’s my mom.”

Kyle helped Nelson up. “Thanks again,” he told Jason.

Jason nodded, not sure what to say. He walked them outside and waved as they drove off. Once the car had disappeared down the street, he turned to face the house. Flexing his knuckles, he guardedly stepped back into the kitchen.

His mom was loading the dishwasher. His little sister stood beside her, wiping her eyes. “Hey, sleepy noggin,” Jason said.

The swinging door slammed open. Jason edged back as his dad barged into the room, swaying from side to side. His gaze bore into Jason. “Why’d you bring that boy here? He looked queer.”

Jason felt his pulse pumping with anticipation. “They’re my friends.”

“Don’t bring them here again,” his dad sneered. “Hear me? I don’ wan’ any faggots in my house.” Jason squared his shoulders. Later he would try to determine how he’d gotten the nerve for what he said next. “Well”—he took a deep breath—“you’ve got one.”

His dad’s thick eyebrows knitted up and his jaw shook. “What?”

Jason swallowed hard. There was no backing off now. Like Coach always said, the best defense was a good offense. “You heard me.” His dad swaggered toward him, growling. “You disgusting …” His fists slammed against Jason’s chest.

Jason stumbled back against the counter. “Keep your hands off me!”

His mom shoved her arms between them. “Stop it, he doesn’t mean it,” she told Jason. “He’s been drinking.” His dad pushed her aside. “Stay out of this.”

Jason’s head burned with rage. “Leave her alone!” He reached out to help his mom.

“Oh, yeah?” his dad bellowed. “Big man! Just because your faggot coach gets you into some school …” He shoved Jason.

Jason could barely control his anger. “Stop it! I’m not afraid of you anymore.” He clenched his fists but kept them down.

His dad stared at him, rocking from side to side. “Yeah? Wha’ you gonna do?” Without warning, his dad swung a fist toward him. Jason blocked the punch, but his dad came back at him with his other arm.

“Stop it!” his mom shouted. His sister grabbed his mom’s dress, screaming.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Jason jabbed his fist into his father’s jaw. His dad stumbled backward against the wall, his shoulder hitting with a thud. He grabbed hold of the counter, dazed.

Jason stared at his fist, disbelieving what he’d done. He immediately glanced up, expecting to ward off a new pummeling from his father, but instead he saw a pathetic, insecure man gaping back at him.

In that image, all the events of the past few months connected for Jason: going to the Rainbow Youth meeting; coming out to Debra; finding the confidence to tell Kyle about Tommy. Jason had feared where the experience would lead him, not sure he’d survive. But now the culminating moment had arrived, and miraculously, he was still standing.

A cross the stillness, he and his father each waited for the other to act.

Finally his dad rolled his shoulders, edging sideways. “I’m not staying here with no faggot.” He slammed the back door open so hard that a cup rattled off the shelf, and staggered outside.

Jason became aware of Melissa’s sobbing. Her face was buried in his mom’s dress. His mom bent down, gently shushing her, and handed her over to Jason. “I can’t imagine he’s going to drive.” She ran out the door.

Jason patted Melissa on the back. “Don’t cry, Missy. It’s over.”

A moment later, his mom came back in from the garage. “He’s gone. I can’t believe he’s driving.” She extended her arms, and Melissa reached out for her. “Oh, sweetie.” She carried Melissa into the living room.

A car approached in the street. Jason quickly glanced out the kitchen window. It was only a neighbor. He poured a glass of water and thought about what had happened—and what he’d done. He was glad he’d said what he did. A t least he didn’t have to carry it around anymore. He examined his fist again and felt glad he’d finally hit back.

His mom returned. “I put her to bed.” She started to load the dishwasher again.

Jason helped her and asked, “What do you think he’ll do when he comes back?” She gave a weary shrug, letting the dishwasher door slam. Jason wondered if she was angry at him for causing the fight. She turned the dishwasher on. “I don’t know what he’ll do. Did you mean what you said to him?” Jason assumed she meant his saying he was … a faggot. He nodded, ashamed.

She sat down and rubbed her forehead, studying him. “What about Debra?”

Jason sighed, unsure how to explain it all. Fortunately his mom didn’t wait for an answer. “Did he ever do anything to you?” Jason knew she meant his dad. He thought of reminding her about what happened with Tommy, but then he thought better.

She let out her breath. “Do you want to talk to someone? A psychologist?”

“I’m not crazy, Ma.”

“I know you’re not. It’s just …” Her eyes became damp, and she dabbed a hand across them.

“I’m okay.” He wanted to tell her about going to the youth group and about Kyle; about how he felt relieved and excited to be finally accepting himself. He put his arms around her, a little afraid she might not hug him back after everything that had transpired.

To his relief, she held him firmly.

They talked awhile, then he went to his room. He thought about how Kyle had had the guts to paint AND PROUD! on his locker; how Nelson had stood up to Jack Ransom; how Kyle and Nelson had the nerve to try and start a gay-straight club. He regretted it had taken him so long to stand up to his dad, but he was glad he finally did. Maybe some of Kyle and Nelson was rubbing off on him.

Kyle fidgeted with the safety-belt buckle in the backseat of Mrs. Glassman’s car, worrying what his parents would say about his swollen wrist and black eye.

Mrs. Glassman’s fevered rant didn’t soothe his anxiety any. “We’re pressing charges, against both Jack and José. It’s ridiculous they got probation last time. They should’ve been sent to juvenile detention.”

Kyle was glad when she turned onto his street. But then he saw his dad’s car in the driveway. Please don’t let him start the “choice” crud again, he prayed. That was the last thing he needed.

He thanked Mrs. Glassman for the ride, said bye to Nelson, and carried his throbbing wrist into the house. His dad was sitting in his recliner. He stopped reading his Sports Illustrated and looked up.

“What happened?” He quickly stood and examined the bruised eye. “Talk about a shiner! What’s wrong with your wrist?” Kyle held it out. “I think it might be sprained.”

“Come into the kitchen. Let’s get some ice on it. Better get it x-rayed. How did it happen?” Kyle hesitated at first, afraid his dad would blame Nelson and him for bringing this upon themselves. But as he told the story his dad nodded eagerly, seeming almost proud of him. He grinned as he examined Kyle’s eye more closely. “I hope you got at least one good lick in.”

“I think so,” Kyle said, though it was all a blur now. “I guess that’s how I hurt my wrist. Good thing Jason showed up. He clobbered them.”

His dad gave an impressed nod and handed Kyle the ice pack. “I think he’s someone you should spend more time with.” Kyle tried not to grin.

His dad called the insurance people, beaming as he told them his son had been in a fight. When he finally got off the phone, he patted Kyle on the shoulder. “Come on. We’re taking you to the doctor.”

Just then his mom opened the door. “Oh, my God!” She dropped her keys on the counter and leaned into Kyle’s face. “What on earth?” His dad puffed out his chest. “He got into a fight.”

“You’re happy about that?”

“No.” He gave Kyle’s neck a gentle squeeze. “But I like knowing he can defend himself.” The remark seemed to annoy his mom. “I hope you’re taking him to the hospital.” She examined the ice pack. “Does it hurt?” she asked Kyle. “I’ll go with you.”

His dad raised his hand to calm her down. “We’ve got it under control. Relax.”

“Oh, is this some guy thing? Your son’s first fight?”

Kyle Jason Nelson

His dad laughed. “Yeah. Why don’t you make a victory dinner for us?”

His mom folded her arms. “I don’t think this is funny.”

“Mom!” Kyle pleaded. “I’m okay.” He had to admit he was kind of enjoying the attention.

His dad leaned over and kissed his mom. “Honey, we’ll be home before you know it. I’ll call you as soon as we see the doctor.

Promise.”

She pouted and handed him her cell phone. “I want to hear from you within a half hour, or I’m coming after you.” The X-rays revealed only a sprain, no fracture. Nevertheless, the physician said no swimming or diving for two weeks. She wrapped the wrist in a bandage and sling, telling Kyle to keep putting ice on it. For his eye, she gave him a prescription.

Later that evening in his room, Kyle fumbled with his good hand to tape his eyeglass frames together. His mom had said she’d take him to the optician tomorrow, but he had to make do for now.

His dad knocked on the door. “How are you feeling?”

Kyle looked up from the frames. “Better. Still sore, but not as bad.”

“That’s good.” His dad leaned over him, admiring Kyle’s eye. “It’s a beauty!” He started to smile but stopped himself. “Of course I don’t condone it. Like your mom pointed out at dinner, the boys could’ve had a gun. You never know nowadays.”

“I know.” Kyle nodded. “But you always told me to stand up for myself.”

His dad gazed down at the bandaged wrist. “Well, I’m sorry if I’ve been hard on you about all this—I mean, your saying you’re gay.” Kyle sat up. Was his dad starting to take him seriously?

“I just don’t want to see you do something that you’ll regret later. I mean, are you sure about this?” Oh, God, Kyle prayed, please don’t let him start in again. “Dad, I told you before, it’s not a choice. I can’t change and I won’t hide. Even if it means getting beat up or getting crank calls.”

His dad rubbed his forehead and sighed. “I phoned Mueller, when you told us about the incidents at school. He told me the same thing your mother said at dinner: He thinks you’re very brave. He said I should be proud to have you as a son.” Kyle thought he was hearing things. Mueller had said that? He must’ve been sucking up to his dad big time.

His dad cleared his throat. “I’m proud of you too, son. I’m sorry I haven’t told you that more often.”

“It’s okay, Dad.”

His dad sat down beside him. “Your mom says there’s a group for parents, PFA G?”

“FLA G!” Kyle corrected. “PFLA G.”

His dad nodded. “She thinks we should go.” Kyle stared at him in disbelief. His dad glanced at the broken eyeglass frames. “She also mentioned you want to get contact lenses.”

Kyle felt a surge of exhilaration. “Yeah?”

His dad patted him on the shoulder. “We’ll see how we can budget it.” He stood up to leave. “Good night, son. Get some sleep. Love you.”

“Love you,” Kyle said.

Contact lenses. Wow. What a day.

Contact lenses. Wow. What a day.

A t school, everyone wanted to hear what had happened to him. The more people asked about the fight, the more proud Kyle felt to have survived his first scuffle. But in spite of the attention, he hoped the clash would be his last.

Nelson showed up smiling, jovially hopping on crutches for his sprained ankle. “Watch this!” He twirled a crutch in the air.

They met with the school police officer to file a report on the fight. Nelson requested pressing charges, and Kyle agreed. The officer called Jason in to hear his account.

Jason said hi but seemed kind of somber.

A fter hearing Jason’s version, the officer sent for Jack and José, but they hadn’t come to school that day. “I’ll request a detention order for them.” He didn’t seem to like Jack and José either.

A fter the meeting, Kyle walked down the hall with Jason. “Is something wrong?” Kyle asked.

Jason glanced down at the floor. “A fter you left on Saturday, I told my dad.” Kyle immediately knew what he meant. “How did he take it?” Jason bit into a fingernail. “We got into a fight. Two fights in one day. He tried to hit me. I hit him back.” He glanced at Kyle, raising his eyebrows. “First time in my life, I hit him.” Kyle wasn’t sure what to think of that. It made him a little uneasy that Jason had fought with his dad, but he couldn’t really blame him.

“A re you okay?” he asked.

Jason gave a shrug. “Yeah. He walked out and never came home last night. We don’t know where he is.” Kyle wasn’t sure how to respond to Jason, but he wanted to say something. “If you want to talk, let me know.” Jason nodded. “Thanks.”

Kyle wasn’t sure if it was the fight with Jack Ransom that changed his friendship with Jason, or the fact that Jason came out to his dad.

But in the days that followed, Jason often stopped by Kyle’s locker.

“My dad came back,” he said with a grimace one afternoon. “He says as far as he’s concerned, I’m not his son anymore. He didn’t try to hit me, but he started throwing things. Mom had to call the police.”

It scared Kyle to hear about it. “Maybe you should talk to, you know, a professional.”