Three Ex Presidents and James Franco (5 page)

              "It must be hard for him. As well as that, to lose your girlfriend and all," Dom observed. I laughed, because Dom wanted me to. The added blow of Fiona leaving Eric was a great justice in Dom's mind. "She's with your friend now, Brandon?" he asked.

              "Yeah. With. Seeing. Going out with. I don't know how they'd describe it themselves. But they are certainly seeing a lot of each other." An awful lot of each other. I'd barely seen Brandon since the party.

              "And the guy who shot him?"

              "James? He's in a prison upstate. I'm sure that will do a lot to chill him out."

              "Sure." Dom laughed. "And Jake?"

              "He's fine." Whatever about describing Fiona and Brandon's relationship, I certainly wasn't going to put words to my own situation. I didn't even know if I could. "He says I won't like what you have to say about Buchanan," I changed the subject.

              "Well that depends on what you know about him."

              "I know my grandmother is very proud of him. She's in her eighties. So as a girl she knew her own grandmother, who was his cousin."

              "So that makes you blue blood."

              "My family lived through the Famine in Ireland while he was President. So, I don't think tha
t’
s accurate. I know he was President at the start of the civil war. He didn't seem to do much to stop it. History judged him harshly, so only gay guys have any interest in him now, and then only slightly."

              "Yeah, they say he went out with William King. They lived together. King later became a Vice-President. So they were quite the power couple."

              "So you've had a gay Vice-President too?"

              "He's the only accepted one, anyway. Though he died just after being sworn in. So not much of a legacy."

              "Unlike Buchanan?"

              "Buchanan's legacy was civil war. He tried to appease the South at every turn, just trying to avoid warfare. Until finally they got rid of him and put Lincoln there instead."

              "Is avoiding war such a bad thing?"

              "Yes, sometimes." Dom said. "Come on, you're European, you know that. When you're appeasing slave owners i
t’
s wrong. That's worth fighting for isn't it? Getting rid of slavery."

              "I know I should say yes. But to be honest I doubt I would fight myself, ever. So it would just be talk."

              "Sometimes you have to fight. Sometimes you have to die."

              "So Buchanan wasn't brave enough?"

              "Are you asking if I hate Buchanan because he was a queer with no backbone?"

              "I suppose I'm asking that, yes."

              "I couldn't care less if he was gay." Dom said. "But it wasn't that he just wanted to avoid war. Gay or straight, there are plenty of cowardly people out there, who have tried desperately to avoid war. No matter what the war was over, or who it was with. I suppose no matter how much I disagree with him, I can't hate him for that. I can't hate him for being afraid. The problem wasn't that he let the South keep slaves. He supported slave ownership."

              "Didn't a lot of people back then? Isn't that why there was a war?" That remark had perhaps been insensitive. I said it without thinking.

              He let me away with it: "Tha
t’
s just moral relativism crap. They knew no different. It was just how they were raised. Blah, blah. Yadda, yadda. As though there weren't people in the world opposing slavery and people in their own country opposing slavery. And even if everyone was doing it, does that make it ok?"

              "So do you hate them all? Washington to Buchanan? Washington was a slave owner."

              "Washington was a slave owner who didn't want to pay his taxes," Dom snorted that. "Listen, what do you think when people say you shouldn't be allowed marry? When they say you're a degenerate, you're abnormal?"

              "Obviously it pisses me off."

              "Do you give credence to their opinion? Do you think they're allowed to think like that? Do you think their opinion is valid because their culture has taught them this, so i
t’
s not their fault?"

              "Some people back home have never even met a gay guy. That they know of. All they know is what the priests or Bible tells them." This was probably true, but still felt like a lie.

              "Those people back home don't know shit." Dom said. "We have those guys here too. And we know they don't know shit. And you know it too. There is a difference between right and wrong and i
t’
s the same no matter where you live or who you are. You can't just hide behind your ignorance. You can't just make the existence of a culture of ignorance the very reason why your ignorance should be listened to and accepted."

              "Where does that leave me?"

              "Just accept they're wrong. And you're right. Don't let them talk, if they do, ignore them. Noone has a right to spew ignorant bullshit, just because they're from a culture of ignorant bullshit. They're bigots and should be treated like bigots."

              "How does all of this square with your campaign on the Muslim vote?" I asked. "Surely you should have supported it. Who cares if Muslims have a different culture? You can't just condemn people to death over what they write."

              "Tha
t’
s different. Not all Muslims supported the fatwa. Most didn't. I'd have no problem asking a Muslim in a job interview if they have or would ever try to kill Salman Rushdie. If a Catholic comes to an interview, you don't automatically assume they are a homophobe, even if they are practicing. But you can ask for their opinions on gays and not give them a job based on that."

              "Don't you think people should take responsibility for their religion?"

              "Maybe someday. But if we were to refuse employment based on being a member of a bigoted religion, we'd hardly have anyone working here. In this college. In this country."

              "So you think Eric picked on Muslims in particular?"

              "It was conservatism masquerading as liberalism. A wolf in shee
p’
s clothing."

              "Do you think in 100 years time there will be two people sitting where we are now discussing the same issue? I
t’
s just that then they'll be condemning this world we live in. This world of the past. But they'll be saying we should have discriminated against Catholics, Protestants, Muslims, whatever. The fact that they belonged to religions of prejudice should have been held against them. Just like you said to me now. To hell with the world you grew up with. Take responsibility for your own opinions. Ignorance isn't an excuse for bigotry. And these religions are clearly wrong. As wrong as the slave-owners of the past."

              Dom didn't miss a beat, I suspect he'd had this conversation a number of times before: "No. There's a difference between having an opinion and being a member of a religion. Most slave-owners and slaves were members of the same church, in that they were Christian. Religion transcends these things. The religions can sometimes be wrong. But noone is a member of these religions because of their stand on gays. They're members to avoid going to hell."

              "Yes indeed, and they seem determined that it be one big San Francisco down there." The line worked again. Dom laughed heartily. The tension was broken. But the reality of what I'd just said hit me square in the face. Between the murderers and drug pushers and other slime, the gays would still be in the majority down there. In hell. What made us different to everyone else was that the others could repent. Over eternity surely they'll realise their actions were wrong. But we could never accept what we were doing was wrong. Because it wasn't.

              On parting Dom, I decided not to forget this conversation. I'd eventually get a chance to relate it to my long distant cousin James Buchanan when we met up on the other side. Down there.

24.
That night I was to meet Jake in the Station. There we'd get a little high and a little drunk. We'd then head into Coxx, the gay bar in the next town over. It was a small scene in these parts. After two months I was already acquainted with the regulars and most of the occasional frequenters. The bar staff called me Irish, so did the clientele. In fact everyone at that stage had taken to calling me Irish.

              "Irish," Jake declared, hugging me as I arrived. He must have been a little high already. "How did that go? Are you descended from one of the most evil of the white devils?"

              "I'm a regular genetic contradiction," I chimed. "I have the genes of the bigoted Irish and the gays all battling inside me looking for attention."

              "Well hopefully you can spare some of your attention for me." He said this earnestly, wide eyed. So yes, he was definitely high. "We're about to go. Zach's driving."

              So the three of us headed off to Coxx. Zach didn't drink. Though, unlike with Jake, it was almost impossible to tell when he was or wasn't high. It seemed the only way to know was if he agreed to drive. At least I hoped that was the case. With the two of us sitting in the backseat I filled Jake in on my conversation with Dom.

              Jake was not impressed. "Was that the extent of his advice? Ignore bigots? Don't let them talk? I
t’
s very difficult to ignore someone who's kicking your skull in because he saw you checking him out."

              "If that actually happened you'd spend half your life in hospital." This was from Zach, showing extraordinary life by driving and talking at the same time.

              Jake didn't see the humour. He often didn't. "He could have suggested something a bit more proactive. At least marching for gay rights or something."

              "He was just saying that there's no need to justify being gay. Especially to people whose opinions aren't worth a shit."

              "Fuck that. He was saying just continue on in your gay world and everyone else will continue on in their world. And as long as you don't let them irritate you, or Christ forbid, as long as you don't irritate the straights, then everything will be fine. He's a black man promoting segregation."

              "I don't think he's down on the gays at all." I'd heard nothing to suggest otherwise.

              "Dom told you it was an actual obligation, not just ok, to go to war to end slavery. Fuck him I say. I know Dom. If churches were calling him a pervert for being black he'd burn them down. If he couldn't marry because he was black he'd storm Capitol Hill. While gays should just let it go." Jake was going into full flight now. "This Obama guy they're all behind. Is he going to change anything? No. Because straight politicians don't stick their neck out for gay guys. There's no Lincoln for the gays. No LBJ. The gays just have to suck it up." He paused to enjoy his own comment, decided to lighten his own mood, then added, "And I don't mean suck it up in the good way."

              As we got out of the car I grabbed Jake and kissed him pretty vigorously. Marking my territory for the evening, reminding him of me, even though he was bound to forget.

25.
Zach and I had kissed once before. Kissed, rolled around together, fallen asleep with our bodies rammed against each other. Nothing that could be called sex, but it was nice. I wondered if he ever had sex with anyone. He was always so stoned. Whether he did or not, he always found company at least.