Page 5 of Smoky Mountain Dreams
“What the fuck is going on in here?” Hisfather charged at them across the rec room, dodging the ping-pong and foosballtables, kicking the side of the Ms. Pac-Man arcade game he’d gotten Jesse andhis sister for Christmas, and cursing louder than Jesse had ever heard before.
“What’s going on?” His mother’s voicequavered as she called down the stairs.
“If you think you’re going to embarrassme like this!” his father screamed, face purple and spit flinging from hismouth in a wide arc that Jesse’s eyes followed in shock.
Dean had made a run for it, but Jesse hadn’t been able tocatch him and escape as well. He’d twisted his ankle and scraped his palmsscrambling outside, and he could remember the cold terror gripping him as he’dwatched Dean’s taillights disappear into the golden light of an October sunset.
He looked back at the giant logmonstrosity his parents had built with the family money. He glanced up at hisyounger sister’s window and saw her staring down at him with wide eyes. Whenshe lifted her hands to make a shooing motion and mouthed, “Go,” Jesse went.
He sucked in a deep breath and tookstock of the descending night. The layers of mountain scents, piling down overthe wet layer of ever-present Smoky Mountain fog. The stench of his own scaredsweat. The chill of the fog coming down around him.Heshivered. It wasn’t as if him kissing Dean should have been a surprise. He’dbeen telling them all he was gay since he’d turned thirteen. Too bad if theydidn’t want to believe him.
As Tim launched into a second poem and Brigid rolled hereyes even more forcefully, Jesse smiled softly, not sure why he was rememberingthat night. He’d been certain he’d end up dead in the gully by the road whenTim McMillan’s blue, bumper-sticker laden VW Wagon had pulled over for him.
“Tell ya what,” Tim said as he continueddown the mountain. “Nova makes chicken soup every second Thursday, and Marcy’llbe home by now. Ronnie’s still at cheer practice, but she’ll be back before toolong too. You’ll get to hang out and share a nice meal. Then you can call yourfolks. Let them know where you are. And after that maybe we can have a talk.”
Marcy wasn’t a foe, exactly, but shewasn’t a friend; that was for sure. She’d been witness to some of the guysharassing him and calling him names. She hadn’t egged them on, but she hadn’tcalled them out either. As for Ronnie, well, she was an enigma—all red curlyhair and gray eyes, wrapped up in a cheerleading uniform and sparkling withpopularity. Jesse doubted she’d even give him the time of day. Chicken soupsounded amazing after walking over a mile with a hurt ankle, though.
“It’s great soup, Jesse, and, well, here’sthe thing—I’m just going to be blunt. I want to help you.”
“Excuse me, sir?”
“When I was your age, I was queer too.”
Jesse heard the past tense and the slur.Marcy and Ronnie must have told him the rumors about him at school. His breathseized. “Just let me out here. This is fine.”
“Now hold on,” Tim said, slowing the carto a stop by the side of the road. “That didn’t come out right. I mean, I’mstill queer, Jesse.”
His heart thundered. Tim McMillan was apervert, and he’d been an idiot to get into his car. God only knew what hewanted to do him. Jesse pulled at the car door handle, and thrust the door openbefore the car had come to a complete stop. He realized he hadn’t undone hisseat belt, and he quickly unstrapped himself.
“Wait! That sounded wrong too!” Timsaid, grabbing hold of his arm and then quickly letting go. “I just mean that Iunderstand what you’re going through.”
Jesse stared at him, his throbbing footalready out the open door.
“Before Nova and I got hitched, I was afree spirit, I guess you could say, and I had my share of experiences withgirls and boys. And I’m not aiming to do anything to you, son, calm down. Ijust wanted to tell you that you’re not the only boy out there that likes whatyou like, and that it’s all gonna be just fine.”
“Does Mrs. McMillan know?”
“Of course! She was down with it back inthe day.”
“Down with it?”
Tim waved his hand. “It’s a moot pointnow. Happily married for twenty years, two beautiful daughters, and all ofthat. I promise I’m not making a pass at you.”
Jesse blinked in confusion. “Are you…so,you’re gay? And living a lie?”
“No, no. Of course not. If you’re nothonest, then you’re not anything in this world, son. Learn that lesson now andyou won’t be sorry. I’m bisexual. And monogamous.”
Jesse blinked some more.
“I fell in love with Nova and gave up mylaid back, going-both-ways existence. It happens. Life goes on.”
Jesse pulled his leg back inside andclosed the car door. He stared at Tim, taking in his overly big glasses and hislong ponytail, and remembered overhearing Marcy telling everyone at theireighth grade lunch table some long tale about her dad dropping acid and seeingriver beds in the cracks of the sidewalks.
“Bisexual,” Jesse said. The word tastedimportant to him, so he said it again. “Bisexual.”
“What do you say? Share a meal?”
Tim finished off reciting his last poem, and Nova dismissedBrigid and Will from the table.
