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.Jesus, save me. He sobbed the deep, racking sobs of a heartbroken child.The other man now sounded irritated. Jared, don t go on a crying jag with Jesus.Obviously you wanted this as much as I did.We re both single.What s the big deal? I m dying of thirst, he added practically. What have yougot to drink? Beer, I hope.It suddenly occurred to me that when they got up which would be any second they would see me through the window.I couldn t have that.Mather would never believe I hadn t been deliberately eavesdropping for God-knowshow long!Quickly I ran halfway back down the grassy path.If I hadn t been worried that animals of some variety would get into Aunt Mae s house, I d have kept right on going back to my car.Instead, I stepped onto the crunchy gravel andwalked noisily back toward the house.And I sang.When I sing, people listen.Sonny says my voice has the deep resonant beauty of a water buffalo with strep throat.Sure enough, by the time I reached the back porch, Mather was already coming through the door, wearing jeans and a T-shirt.He was barefooted, tousle-haired and red-eyed.And he looked as guilty as any criminal he hadever arrested. Alexandra! I I m surprised to see you.Can I do something for you?I told him what had happened and asked him if he could board up the window.He agreed to go  right over and stood in the doorway, waiting for me to leave.There was no evidence of his guest.I was shaken.I couldn t get it off my mind.Two single adult men get a little blitzed at a wedding.They have sex.What harm? To whom? Yet Jared Mather was a soul in torment.And how many years had he been like this? Iwished I could offer him comfort.I knew no one could.No gay person could, nor any straight person either.And certainly not his God.Obviously, Jared was gay, and knew it and could not abide it.Every day must be torture.Thosemost basic desires for human contact and affection and physical pleasure were to him, unforgivable crimes.I made a vow.If anyone ever found out Jared Mather was gay, it would not be from me.This would not become a funny story on the cocktail circuit.It would not become grist for the Ladies Aid Society gossip mill.And it wouldnever be good for backroom laughs at Police Headquarters.Jared would not be outed by Alex.I didn t much like him.I thought his religion was hateful, dangerous and false.I thought he was smart enough to know he should havehad professional help years ago.And I never felt sorrier for anyone in my life.Talk about ambivalence!I realized I had unthinkingly turned down toward the parade route and heard music coming toward me.I put thoughts of Mather behind me and let the holiday eve take over.The lead-off band was the Ptown Gay Men s Fife andDrum Corps, with a really accomplished version of the  Colonel Bogey March. They looked good, too, in their Revolutionary War styled uniforms, with the white stockings that showed off their shapely legs and the tight, tightbreeches that showed off everything else.Hard on their heels was the Lesbian Mothers Association.Kids not strapped or tethered were being herded along with modest success at staying in step.Then came hordes of people in fantastic costumes, and behind thema pink VW beetle with lots of clowns in, on and around it.They had their routine down pat, so that it looked as if all the people really came out of the car.A flatbed truck with some hay bales for décor and six women playing down home bluegrass music followed.A banjo, a guitar, three fiddles and a bass were twanging out a real shit-kickin hoedown.They were superb, and Ihoped they might be playing someplace in town for a while.Maybe Cassie and I could catch them we both love bluegrass, in small doses, anyway.Next we were favored by the Bare-Breasted Broncos, a lesbian motorcycle club from New York.Despite the fact that most of them were magnificently endowed and set the ol gonads to snapping in high-speed bluegrassrhythm, many of us wished fervently that these ladies would not tire themselves out coming so far to visit.But they were ever faithful.By morning at least three of them would be in the medical clinic, four would be detained in localcells and most would have been in fights for making improper advances to other women s partners.some of which would be surreptitiously accepted.Suddenly, across the street, I thought I saw my witch waving and shouting at passersby.Behind the Broncos, and in front of a group billed as the Queens from Queens, I nipped across the street.Now where the hell was she?She had disappeared again! Of course, I wasn t really sure it was my witch, and I had no idea what I would have said if I had caught up with her.Chagrined, I turned down the walkway to see what was going on at the Atlantic House.Mayhem was going on, with wall-to-wall people, hyper-decibel music, and frenzied fun in and out of costume.I tried unsuccessfully to fightmy way to the bar.The floor vibrated so badly I really wondered if we all might spill into the basement.Somebody handed me back a bourbon and ice.I wasn t even sure who had bought it for me, until I saw my friends Dan andMike waving.I had no hope of approaching them and just waved my thanks.I fought back the way I had come and took my drink (illegally) outdoors to join a smaller crowd, where I at least had air to breathe.It was getting time for the show at the Crown and Anchor, so I downed the drink I d betterwatch that left the glass on a rock wall and retraced my steps up the alley.The Crown was busy but not frantic.It was a largely male crowd, and somewhat older, or at least more conservatively behaved than those at the A-House.I found a small table and sat down at the banquette behind it.A waiterbrought me a drink, took some money and I settled down to wait.If they were running on time, Ms.Garland would soon come tripping down that yellow brick road.Meanwhile, the band played Cole Porter songs, and I wonderedwhat the gay world would have done without him. Excuse me. A pleasant-looking man somewhere in his fifties stood in front of my table. There s not a seat left in the place, and I wondered if I might share your banquette? Why not? I m Alex. Marc. He put out his hand.Shortly, a waiter appeared and took his order for a scotch and water,  plus whatever the lady is having. The lady is having a very light bourbon and water, please. Then I laughed. Well, congratulations, sir! You are the one millionth person not to be fooled by my disguise tonight. As bad as that? He smiled. Actually, an acquaintance of mine let on earlier that he thought I was a man.I realize now he was just teasing. I moved the ashtray closer to me. Sorry. He shrugged. Maybe it s the lack of a beard.That s probably the reason I don t wear costumes anymore.everybody always knew me anyway. I m with you, I agreed. Unfortunately I m going to a party later where costumes are required like tiaras or medals or something.Frankly, it s a pain. The waiter set the drinks down and stood there until Marc paid him.Notabs on a busy night like this.Marc stirred his drink and looked around. I haven t missed Judy Garland, have I?As if on cue, the band stopped playing and the lights went black.The noise in the room faltered and twittered into silence.I hoped this wouldn t be either an embarrassing failure or a tasteless parody [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]