"Powell and Me" is a work of fiction about love and sex between teen boys. No resemblance to persons living or dead is intended. If you are underage, or if possession of this text is illegal in your area, leave now. Some of the activities described in this story may cause injury or transmit diseases, including HIV.
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Powell and Me 10
The city bus schedules are different on weekends, so I wound up getting to Wilson Street a little before nine. I made my way to the alley, trying to look casual and probably doing a lousy job of it. I faked several pisses and took one real one before Powell showed up, filling the alley with his shadow. "Hi," I said, awkwardly.
"Why the fuck did you do that, Man?"
"Danny, I'm sorry! It was crazy, I know. I didn't--"
"Why?" Danny repeated, stepping toward me. His eyes could have been on fire, maybe.
"I was going to save you!" I answered, feeling even more like an idiot.
"What!?"
"I can't explain it. I just--"
Another step. "You were going to save me? From what?"
"From having to hide! From lying and ... and pretending, and ..."
Another step and he was an arm's length away--and his arms were body-builder tense. "You are crazy! It's like when you charged at me in that room during the lockdown. I should tear you to pieces!"
I met his eyes. "Go ahead. But you said you cared about me!"
Danny opened his mouth to yell at me, I think. Then he closed it. Then he growled, "I do, you stupid fuck! Why do you think I'm so pissed at you? Horse would have put you in the hospital--if you were lucky!"
"Why!?"
Danny took a last step and leaned into my face. "Because you're queer!"
"What's that got to do with him? Is he jealous?" (Monastery!)
Danny pulled back, startled. "Jealous? Jealous?? Me and Horse aren't ... like that!"
"Maybe he wants--never mind!" (Monastery--or surgical tongue removal!)
"Horse is into chicks! We went to the fucking clinic together! That's--" Danny slammed his hand into his fist. "God dammit! He saw me pick up that stuff."
"Stuff?"
"Pamphlets about ... stuff."
"Gay stuff?"
"Maybe. I mean, I just grabbed stuff. I didn't really ... Yeah," he finally admitted. "And that's not the worst of it." He took a deep breath. "My old man found them, too. Now he thinks I'm queer!"
"Are you?" I whispered.
Danny turned and leaned back against the brick wall and stared toward the slit of sky. "I thought, you know, like they say, it was a whadda-ya-call-it, a phase, or just that one guy on TV. I told myself I'd get into girls later, you know? But ..." He pushed away from the wall and spun around in frustration. "This is so fucked! I am so fucked!"
"No! It's ... it's like I told my dad--it's just part of who you are, like being tall, or something. There's lots of us! I know six people at Fillmore, at least!"
"Six!? SIX?!" He rolled his eyes.
"Eight, with us. There's going to be a whole parade, for Pete's sake!"
"A freak show!"
"There's lots of us around! People who aren't afraid to love each other!"
"Are you calling me a coward?"
"Are you?"
Nothing happened for the longest second. Then Danny's arms were wrapped around me, squeezing me so tight I couldn't breathe. His words were hot on my face. "You are the stupidest fucker in the goddamn universe! You coulda got killed! We had it perfect! Just the two of us! My old man threw me out! I been crashing at Dodger's place; Horse wants to fucking kill me! You're all I got left! What are we gonna do, Eddie? What the fuck are we gonna do?"
I felt a tear, and wasn't sure if it was his or mine. His arms relaxed. "Danny," I coughed. "It's okay. We're not alone! We'll figure it out! It's ... we got this far, we can--we can make it all the way! I know it!"
"All the way?"
"Remember back in the prep room when you said you wanted to be in love?"
"Yeah," he whispered. "But--"
"We're in love, Danny Powell! We are, and as long as we're together-- This is just ... my dad calls it a hiccup. Like a glitch, or when the cable signal gets whacko for a couple of seconds. We're together. We're a ... a couple."
We kissed. I don't know who started it, but there we were in an alley, kissing between two dumpsters and it was beautiful. Danny was beautiful. We were beautiful.
"Can we ..." Danny said, and I nodded. I think they call it "make-up sex," or something. We went to the tree line by the ditch and lay down together and just stared at the sky for a while. "It's scary," Danny whispered at last.
"Yeah," I answered. "But so was the lockdown. I mean, that was scarier, sort of. We could have gotten killed or blown up or something."
Danny rolled to his side and put his hand on my chest, so the tip of his middle finger was in the little space where my top ribs come together. "That'd be the shits. I mean, back then, before we even knew?"
I lifted his hand to my mouth and kissed it. "But we didn't get blown up," I muttered, feeling his fingers with my lips. "And we do know, now."
Sex is really dumb in movies, you know? When they're all about to be run over by lava, or eaten up or something, and instead of running away or pushing the red button or whatever, they get all kissy? But it turns out that's what happens! There we were, kissing and pulling each other's clothes off and hugging and rubbing and stroking each other everywhere nearly at once and almost eating each other, and laughing because we're ticklish in some places and crying because it's just so intense and Danny just dove down onto my cock and I got his into my mouth and it was like we were one thing, again, giving and drawing from each other with our smells and the breeze and the weeds and the dirt and I think there were some birds but mostly it was us.
We rolled apart, gasping for breath. The sky was still there.
We watched clouds drift by for a while, and then Danny murmured, "Let's do it again. Slower." So we started in again, very gentle this time, and he said, "Hey! What's with the shoulder?"
"Got scraped when Horse--he grabbed my backpack, and the strap--"
"I'll fucking kill him!"
"Don't worry. It's like a battle scar. I'm kind of proud of it."
"God, you're weird!" And then, he laughed and kissed my shoulder softly.
"Yeah," I admitted, nuzzling his neck. I moved down his shoulder. He had this bitter-nice smell, and I drew it in, and slid my lips to his chest while his fingers rolled down my spine and his hands grabbed my butt, and then he sort of lifted me onto his hips and started working my cock, which was puffy, but not hard again yet.
"You're really hot, you know, when the sun hits you like that," he whispered. "Like one of those statues in this museum we went to once, on a field trip. Some statue of a Greek boy. God!" I felt his laugh underneath my butt. "I remember I started to get hard and I was so embarrassed, even though nobody could see it, I don't think."
My cock got hard, and I felt his dick forcing cum out from behind my nuts, and then my cock fired all over his chest and we got all smeary and glued together.
"You should come to my birthday party," I sighed.
"Birthday?"
"My folks are taking us to Funday Park."
"I don't think so. Pretty sure that's not a good idea."
"But ... I mean everyone knows I'm gay--well, except for a couple of guys but I bet they--"
"Your folks will be there!"
"Well, I--"
"Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend, Danny. Can you imagine?"
I opened my mouth to answer, but I couldn't. He was right: they'd freak, or pass out, or something. Danny Powell was about as far from Mike Silvers as you could get! "Shit," I whispered.
"Yeah," he agreed. We rolled apart and let the sun and a breeze dry us.
"I wish it could always be like this," I muttered. "Just all quiet and warm and ..."
"And?"
"And you next to me. Not just sex, but ... close, you know?"
"Sex is nice, too." Danny rolled over and kissed my shoulder again.
And we watched some birds fly over, carrying straw, or something, and then we kissed and nuzzled a little and started again and rolled apart and just laughed. "I wish this feeling was forever," Danny whispered.
"It is, I think." Maybe we dozed for a little, but the day came back, like it always does, and Danny sat up, and I sat up and brushed the bits of dirt and stuff off his back.
"You're couch surfing with Dodger?" I asked, while we dressed.
"Yeah. Dodger doesn't--I mean I don't think he knows. But he's got a queer--sorry, gay brother so he's cool either way."
I nodded. "What about ..."
"Horse?" Danny shook his head. "I broke his goddamn jaw. Cracked it, anyway, or something, so it's all wired up and shit. Bet he wants to kill me, when he's better."
We were quiet as we headed back, walking carefully like we didn't even want to disturb the weeds, until we got to the alley. "You can call me any time, Danny. If you need anything, you know?"
"What I'm gonna need is a job!" Powell snapped, and then he was Danny again. "Don't worry 'bout me, Eddie." He pulled me to him and kissed my forehead. "Take care of yourself."
I frowned. "You're making it sound like ... like the end, or something!"
"I got no home, Eddie! I'm eating Dodger's leftovers, my clothes stink--I got nothing!"
"I've got three bucks, maybe," I said, digging into my pocket.
"I'm not taking--"
"For laundry, okay? It's a loan, that's all!" I smiled. "If you were naked all the time, I couldn't keep my hands off of you!"
"Faggot," Danny whispered, and this time we kissed for real.
"Tomorrow?" I smiled.
Danny shook his head. "I got stuff. Dodger's ... We got stuff we gotta do."
I almost offered to come along, but something in Danny's tone stopped me. "Just call me, okay?"
Danny smiled and nodded. "I hear the bus, I think."
So school was out. I stayed up late on Sunday, watching a ball game with Dad. We made popcorn. I'm not into baseball, but it seemed like the right thing to do. And it went to twelve innings! So I slept in on Monday, then got up and made myself a little breakfast. Mom was already out grocery shopping, and there was a note: "Cut the grass. Dad." So I did, and helped Mom with the groceries when she got home. Then I trimmed up all the edges and by then it was hot enough to get sweaty. Then I went inside and stripped and looked at my body in my bedroom mirror and tried to convince myself I was looking ... better, somehow. Then I took a shower. It was weird, being home, not rushing to classes, not having lunch with Jen and everyone. I think maybe I was actually missing school!
Shana and Roberta couldn't make the party, but Lucy came, so she joined Alan, Jen, Manimni, Kris, and Donald Crane and Perry Rodriguez that I'd done a Social Studies project with. I was sitting next to Lucy on the Ferris wheel, just two kids enjoying the ride and the view from the top, and for a few minutes everything was just simple and happy. Alan and Jen were sitting on a bench talking, most of the time. I think Manimni fell in lust with Perry, and Perry didn't run away, at least. My mom thought Kris was "the sweetest thing!" but I don't know how much Kris told her. Mike Silvers didn't come.
Jen pulled me aside at the end of the party. "Anything from you-know-who?"
I nodded my head and actually giggled a little.
She hugged me. "Told you so! He needs you." We headed for the knot of parents surrounding Mom and Dad. "Oh! And we're getting together at Kris's tomorrow to make signs, if you want to come."
"Signs?"
"For the parade!"
Mom saw us hugging, and I could tell she was confused as heck!
The Pride Parade was the next weekend. I told my folks I was "going over to Jen's house," which was true. I just didn't say where we were going from there. We loaded our signs into Jen's dad's car and headed for the parking lot where the parade was getting set up.
"Eddie!" Alan called.
"Alan!" I scrambled through the crowd to hug him. "How are you doing?"
"Pretty good! What do you think?" And he pulled off this rainbow top hat to show me his scar. It was barely visible, now that the hair was growing back.
"Makes you look butch!" Alan looked at me in confusion for a second, and then we both laughed, and hugged.
"This is Ken," Alan said, beckoning to a guy standing nearby. "Ken, this is the kid I told you about: Eddie."
"Glad to meet you, Eddie. Alan tells me you're quite the hero."
I felt myself blushing. "No, I just rush into things without thinking."
"Good for you. Alan always needs a United Nations debate."
Alan laughed and pointed toward his scar. "You see why, don't you, Ken?"
Ken just sighed and shook his head. He had close-cut black hair and looked like he needed a shave. He was exactly the same height as Alan, but huskier. The two of them looked just about perfect together.
Alan leaned closer and dropped his voice. "Heard anything from Powell, or shouldn't I ask?"
"It's all right. We're ... together."
"Really? I don't suppose--is he coming to the Parade?"
I sighed. "Danny's having a kind of rough time. But we're together." I was starting to tear up. Alan didn't say anything. He just hugged me. And then it was time to get in line.
The kids from Central High had come up with a big banner that read "Rainbow Students Alliance," and we agreed to march with them, and a few kids from other schools, and even these two guys from St. Agnes Catholic! There were thirty-one of us when we stepped off, just before noon. And there was a band from the junior college marching right in front of us! Jen and Alan carried signs that said "Fillmore Pride!!" and the rest of us traded off carrying signs like, "Love is Love" and "We're All Equal," and "Out and Proud," and even one that said "We're Here!" on the front and "We're Queer!!" on the back. I thought I'd be all scared, or maybe that people would be throwing bottles at us or something but, aside from a few people yelling "Boo!" or "Fags go to hell!" everyone seemed to just be enjoying the parade and the sunshine.
Halfway through the route, the parade passed this little park in front of City Hall, and there were Jock and Preppy, standing with Horse and Snake and some guys I didn't recognize, chanting "Fags go home!" And I lost it. I mean, I really--shit! What is it with me, anyhow?! I looked right at Horse and screamed, "I am home, dammit!" while I headed toward them through the marchers.
Ken and Manimni were right behind me, pulling me back. "Just get in line and march!" Ken said, and he pushed me between himself and Manimni and they more or less forced me back into the parade. I started to turn back, but Alan stopped me. "Let it alone. They're not worth it." It was almost a block later that I realized Manimni had been rubbing my shoulders, repeating something in a language I didn't know, over and over again, like a chant, maybe.
"What is that?" I asked, turning to Manimni. "What are you saying?"
"It's a medicine chant--supposed to center you. You've got big medicine."
"Big medicine?"
Manimni shrugged. "Just a thing we say, sometimes. Means you have a lot of power."
"Power? I just--hell, I'm scared shitless."
"That's what courage is, Man," Ken said. "Being scared shitless and doing the right thing anyhow."
"The right thing?"
"Yeah," Ken, Alan and Manimni said, at the same time, and we all yelled, "Jinx!" and just started laughing.
I tried to see if Danny might be in the crowd somewhere, even though I knew he wouldn't be. But it would have been so ... nice, you know? I was surrounded by friends, and he was out there somewhere all alone. And sleeping on Dodger's couch.
There were pictures of the parade on TV, of course. And of course the TV interviewed one of those-- what was the word Jen used?--homophobic pastors, for "balance," they called it. He was all about how prayer would cure us and we'd been misguided and didn't understand what was happening and--well, you get the idea. Dad wanted to turn it off, but I wouldn't let him. This was the asshole that sent that letter, maybe. And then, he talked about our club! And said good Christians should tell the School Board to ban clubs like that because they just spread perversion and all.
"That's not true!" I yelled. "You're the sick one!" I turned to Dad. "I'm going to have to talk to the School Board, Dad! Otherwise--"
"No! You could get--you have no idea--"
"I have a pretty good idea of what will happen if we don't get that club! I read the letter, Dad! Don't you get it? It would be like the School Board is saying it's okay to beat up gay people! Me! To beat me up!"
"That's not what's going to--I forbid you from going, Eddie! Enough is enough! You have to choose your battles, Son--"
"And this is one I have to fight! They're depending on me, Jen and Alan and everyone--"
"Then let them fight it! I'm through discussing this, Edward. You're not to go! You're too young! It's dangerous!"
Sometimes, Dad has this voice and this look that means it doesn't matter what I say, discussion's over. My only hope was to see if I could talk Mom into letting me go, which would be risky--I mean, even if she didn't say it was up to Dad, he'd know I'd sort of lied to Mom. But it was a damn School Board meeting! How risky could it be, even? So I didn't say any more, just started writing a statement to read to them. The meeting was scheduled for two o'clock the next day, so Dad would be at work and Mom would be volunteering at this thrift store she helps out at.
"This is about being responsible for ourselves," I wrote. "It's about making responsible decisions and behaving responsibly and making being gay not scary for other people." I thought if I made it about being responsible, that's a thing grown-ups and teachers are always going on about, anyway, so it would be good to say. I could even talk about being a responsible citizen!
I got as prepared as I could, with little index cards and all, and the next day I got dressed up and headed for City Hall. When I got there, there were actually people picketing outside! There was one group holding signs like "Gay Rights Are Human Rights" and another group with signs like "Leviticus 20:13" and "Romans 1:26-28"--like we all had the Bible memorized! It was hot, and I was already sweating. I have no idea why people wear neckties, especially in the summer! I squeezed into the Hearing Room before two o'clock, but there were already people lined up to speak. I went to the back of the line and pulled out my notecards for a last review.
Mrs. Barlow called the committee meeting to order, and somebody yelled "LGBT rights" but Mrs. Barlow hit the desk with her gavel and everyone settled down. She did some more parliamentary procedure stuff, and then it was time to discuss the request from Fillmore High. "Does anyone wish to speak to this matter before we vote?" she asked, and about a million hands went up, including mine. The first speaker was Jen, and I could hear her wincing when she identified herself as Jennifer. But she gave a good speech, way better than mine was going to be, except she didn't say "responsibility!" So I was good--if I ever got to the microphone.
Then this minister got up and started talking about saving sinners and how we had to protect young people from perversion as long as we could, at least in school. Then there was a guy hollering about getting back to basics and how schools were all failing, but Mrs. Barlow ruled him out of order. Then Alan got up and talked about responsibility! It wasn't like he copied my speech, or anything, but he talked about us having to make good decisions and all. Then a woman talked about how another club was going to drive taxes through the roof. And then this guy who said he was a doctor got up and talked about how we were all mentally ill and needed to be converted, or something, but he ran out of time before he could really explain anything. And then it was my turn.
It was hot. My shirt was hot, and my necktie, and my pants, even my feet were hot. I pulled out my notecards and cleared my throat, and the sound of it echoed around the room, because of the microphone.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for letting me talk to you about our club. I am a Fillmore student, and it is very important for Fillmore High School to have an LGBTQ club."
Next card--and down they went, scattered on the floor. I closed my eyes. "Sorry. I--it's--" It was gone. Everything was gone. I opened my eyes and looked at Mrs. Barlow. "It's like we said: sex is hard to talk about if you're gay. Like me. Or a lesbian. I barely can talk about it with my parents! I mean they know, and they love me and they would talk about it, but ... it's like there aren't words. Or there are but we don't know them. Or there's a thing in your throat that stops the words from coming out!
"We need a place--LGBTQ kids and our friends--where we can talk, and try to understand this stuff so it's not so scary. I have a friend who ... his whole life's a mess because ... because he's afraid to talk about it and he only has one friend, who's just as confused as he is, almost. We can't talk because he isn't safe! Schools are supposed to be safe places for us--for all of us. I mean even if you're straight, it's dangerous to be seen with GLBTQ kids! The hatred sort of splashes over! And it is hatred. This is a letter my folks got."
I pulled the paper from my pocket. "Your son is a homosexual going to Hell for sodomy! Homosex is the worst of sins. Homos must burn in Hell, erased from the earth, not given a place to practice their perversions. The gays poison us with diseases. The faggots force their filthy cocks into innocent--"
"I think we get your point, young man," Mrs. Barlow said. "That language--"
"Is shit we hear every day!" Jen shouted.
"Out of order! The audience will--"
I grabbed the microphone. "She's right, though! I mean, not always every day, but often enough." I looked each of the five committee members in the eye as I went on. "And it hurts! Not just the words, but the anger behind them, and the threats and the ... the stupidness! The deliberate stupidity and 'I don't care' if it hurts you and ... and ... All of that," I finished, weakly. "School's not supposed to be stupid-- it's supposed to be safe. Thank you."
Alan waved at me and I sat next to him. "You were great!" he whispered.
"I blew--I had this whole speech about responsibility and, and..."
"Yeah, but you said schools are supposed to safe! Nobody said that, yet! And that letter! Was that real?"
I nodded. "That's who we're up against." I loosened my tie, feeling like a failure no matter what Alan said. I couldn't even listen to the next few speakers. And then--
"This is about my son, who spoke a few minutes ago. That hate-filled letter was addressed to me, and when I read it, I realized what a tough journey my boy has ahead of him. Did I jump for joy when he told me he was gay? Of course not! But did I stop loving him? No. Did I toss him out of our family? No. My son is brave, unbelievably brave. And honest. He defied my orders and came here today to talk to you, and I am proud of him for that!" His voice rose. "And I will protect him. He is too valuable to me, to our family, to the world! I will protect him from the haters, and from the ignorant and uncaring and the bigots: the truly sick people in this world. He needs this club to help him navigate his life--all these young people do!" Now, his voice softened some, but there was that "discussion's over" tone. "Without our support, they will not reach their full potential as human beings. 'Without our support!' Those words are from the preamble to this School Board's statement of purpose. It's why you're here. It's why I'm here. It's why my son and his friends are here. Thank you."
My dad turned away from the microphone and our eyes met and he smiled at me and I got up as natural as anything and floated over to him and we hugged and some people started applauding.