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summer, although cooler in Southern summers meant ninety degrees and
ninety percent humidity, as opposed to one hundred degrees and one hundred
percent humidity. I dramatically took the day off, going against my own admoni-
tions that gays give out sympathy for the same reason. Rick called around eight
and I invited him over for coffee. Our evenings had been spent together, talking,
laughing, and discussing life. I was so attracted to Rick that it was hard for me
not to hit on him every time he was around. He showed up wearing linen draw-
string pants and a tight white t-shirt, so we could both sense the tension and we
both enjoyed it.
How can he think of enticing me at a time like this? I thought dramatically.
He sipped his coffee with those suckable lips. We really didn t talk very much.
It was one of those times where we could tell that silence was going to be golden.
Rick put his arm around me, remaining quiet, and the only words that passed
between us were when he was going to come pick me up.
We drove to the church in silence, his hand resting on my shoulder the entire
time, as if he wanted me to know that he was there for me. When we got to the
church, it was very crowded. I knew Mrs. Clark had been popular in social circles
but the diversity of the people in attendance surprised me, from the conservative
- 47 -
Sometimes It s Just the Drama Value
48
ladies of the daughters of some all white establishment that maliciously still
existed to the local chapter of the gay Democrats. We walked down the aisle
toward the front, where the silver casket waited, covered with a spray of red roses
and a beautiful photo of Mrs. Clark.
I can see, Rick whispered, where Stephen got his looks.
Stephen, his father, his brother, and the young Mrs. Clark were in the first
pew, looking very uncomfortable. We sat down diagonally from them and
Stephen turned to glance at me, looking like someone had hit him in both eyes,
his look for the day a combination of grief, drugs, and lack of sleep. Young Mrs.
Clark smiled and nodded, and then Stephen started to cry. I mouthed hi and
looked away, but I noticed that a blonde, blue-eyed, very tan, and extremely well
built stranger was sitting near the family.
I went through a three year dry spell and now the hotties are everywhere, I
thought.
The stranger s blonde hair fell in strands over his forehead, giving him a for-
lorn yet sexy look, like the overdrawn Tom of Finland characters that were
famous for having sex anywhere and everywhere. When Rick looked over in that
direction, he raised his eyebrows very discreetly, in a gesture that he apparently
thought would be undetectable to everyone but me. The sight of a grieving fam-
ily, a casket, and the sweet smell of flowers were all too familiar. I couldn t help
wandering back in my mind to the day of Ayers funeral when I sat in the front
row with my head in my hands, breaking my mother s rule, crying so hard that
the tears started to drop on the floor, on my knees, and run down my sleeves, and
no one could comfort me. Before that, I walked at the head of the family behind
the casket as it was brought into the church. I walked and cried, walked and cried
my way down the aisle very dramatically, but for once, I was not aware of the
drama value of what was going on. I remember glancing at one of my friends, a
friend who never showed emotion, sobbing, as he watched me take that lonely
walk.
I was startled to hear the priest begin intoning the service for Mrs. Clark, but I
couldn t concentrate on his words. I felt as if the world was shimmering around
me, like looking up through clear yet deep water, except in reds and blues. I let
out an agonizing sigh and Rick reached over and put his hand on my leg. The ser-
vice ended before I could think again, but I ended up pretty numb from the expe-
rience and Rick could tell. The family mourned their way back up the aisle
behind Mrs. Clark s casket, and as we all stood to go the cars, I handed the keys
to Rick quietly and without ceremony. He held my hand tightly for a few sec-
Sometimes It s Just the Drama Value
49
onds before taking them. I was hoping that Stephen s family would get into the
limo before I got out there, because I did not feel like talking to anyone anymore.
As the procession moved through the streets I felt it all again. I traveled in the
funeral home s limo behind the hearse, along with Ayers family, suffering
through the loneliest feeling I ve ever had, surrounded by people, yet a million
miles away from them. I couldn t look out the windows because everything
reminded me of Ayers, and I couldn t look forward because the hearse was always
right there. All of these feelings were rushing back so quickly that I had to do
something, so I looked at Rick as the tears tried to come out. He looked bewil-
dered, as if he wanted to say something but just couldn t.
At the cemetery, the crowd gathered as the casket was carried from the hearse
to the gravesite. The family and a few people were able to sit under the tent while
the rest of the crowd swelled around, standing. The blonde stranger stood near
Stephen, which made me think that this could be Stephen s latest acquisition, a
quick rebound. The priest said a few more words that I didn t hear and really
didn t want to hear. When it was done, Stephen, his brother, and their father laid
red roses on the top of the casket, something that was eerily exact to what we did
for Ayers. After his funeral I stood next to his casket longer than necessary, hold-
ing the rose in my hand, the tears dripping down onto the cold metal. When
Mrs. Clark s crowd began to disperse, I left Rick for a moment to find Stephen.
Unusual circumstances could sometimes make us feel things that we really didn t,
but I felt something for Stephen. I couldn t figure out what it was, a feeling that
was telling me to clear the air between us and let him know that I was there if he
needed someone to talk to. He seemed so alone there, even with all of the people
milling around and waiting to talk to him, even among his own family members.
When I caught his eye, I motioned for him to come over. He excused himself
politely from the daughters of the Old South, some of them looking like they had
actually been present when Lee surrendered, and came over to where I was stand-
ing. His blonde friend was watching the whole thing while speaking to Rick with
very strained expressions and body language, as if he wanted to gesture wildly and
open his mouth instead of speaking through gritted teeth.
Hi, I said to Stephen.
Hullo, he said sullenly. Thanks for coming.
Look, I said, I wanted to apologize for being so harsh with you the other
day. You know we can t go on like we were before, but I want you to know that
I m here if you need someone to talk to.
Stephen s eyes brightened. Really? he asked. It sounded like you wanted to
be done with me, dude. Anyway, I m trying to move on.
Sometimes It s Just the Drama Value
50
I m here, I said, as a friend. You don t have to move on from that if you
don t want to.
Stephen looked over to his blonde friend, who was now standing alone, and
gave a little smirk. Between the two of them, there was way too much irreverence
for a cemetery so I walked away.
I turned to Rick and said simply, let s go now.
C H A P T E R 10
Are You Ready for
This?
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