Drama Queers! (5 page)

I don’t know why, but a lot of people don’t like our HPHS Band teacher, Mr. Klan, just because he’s a Total Fag. Well, we don’t know if he is for sure, but he
is
over thirty-five and he’s never been married, so the odds are in favor. Not that I want him to be or anything. I don’t find him the least bit attractive. In fact, he reminds me of my dad, which is totally bogue!

“What’s up?” I wonder.

Shellee hands me one of the mimeographed flyers she’s been Scotch taping to the glass doors outside Principal Messinger’s office. Her brunette head bobs back and forth as she cackles at me. “Duh! It’s all right there.”

Sure enough, so it is.

Don’t forget to Vote!
Homecoming “Top 25”
10/1/87

Ah, yes…“Top 25.”

The yearly ritual to pick the twenty-five Seniors at Hazel Park High School most deserving to be elected to Homecoming Court.

Personally, I’m pretty bic-cited (excited).

Back in 10th grade, I had these two Senior friends, Alyssa Resnick and Cheri Sheffield. They were both on “Top 25.” I remember thinking what an honor being singled out by your peers must be. Not that I need validation or anything. For the most part, I already know that people like me…And if they don’t, fuck ’em!

I wish Shellee “Good luck!” even though she’s a shoo-in. She was always Most Popular Girl at Webb Junior High and continues to be to this day.

“You too, Fox!” she replies, waving with pinky, forefinger, and thumb extended. Then she gathers her flyers and moves on to the display case next to the library.

This is where, along with the VFW award, the American Legion award, and the prestigious Erickson Cup, sits the coveted “Thespy.” At least twice a day since Sophomore year, I stop by to stare at it. I imagine how the gold (plated) statuette will feel held in my hot little hand, how my name—BRADLEY JAMES DAYTON—will look engraved on the metal plate marked “1987–88.” What it will
mean
to be honored as Thespian of the Year.

For those not up on their Drama Queer terminology…Thespis is credited as being the first actor ever to appear on a stage in something like 600 BC. According to Aristotle, Thespis was a singer of
dithyrambs
, which were songs about mythology that featured choral refrains. He also invented the style that became known as tragedy (as in “comedy and…”), where one single actor performed
all
the characters in a play, using different masks to differentiate.

Hence the creation of the International
Thespian
Society by a group of college and high school teachers in Fairmont, West Virginia, in 1929.

“Act well your part; there all the honor lies.”

This is the motto of the ITS, taken from Alexander Pope’s
Essay on Man
.

I won’t presume I’m gonna get the “Thespy,” but I
am
President of Troupe #4443, so I know I’m in the running.

But first things first…

“Top 25.”

I can’t say everybody shares my attitude. Especially my Best Friend, Jack Paterno. Perhaps I should say, my
other
Best Friend, considering I already referred to Max Wilson as filling that spot. Jack spends sooo much time worrying about what other people think of him. In fact, he even dropped outta Band this year because he was sick of being called a Band Fag.

Or so he said.

Like Carrie Johnson, I met Jack in 7th grade Varsity Band over at Webb. Well, we didn’t
really
meet in Band, we met in the cafeteria during lunch. Jack was sitting with Carrie and Ava Reese and Katy Griffin (the girl I think might be a lesbian), going thru some stupid Sign-In Book:
“Calvins or Jordache?”
Well, I walked right up to the table, sat myself down, and was all like, “Fuck those! I like Sergio Valentes better ’cause they make your ass look hot!”

At least that’s what Jack says I said.

I seriously doubt I’d say something like that—not in front of a group of girls. Of course, knowing me, if I
did
say it, I was trying to get a rise outta Jack…Talk about a Persnickety-Persnick!

If it wasn’t for our junior high Band teacher, Jessica Clark Putnam, encouraging us to attend Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp the following summer, we would’ve never become Best Friends. I remember us bragging to all the other Band Fags about how cool we were and how swanky the whole thing was gonna be. Twelve days in the lap of luxury at an exclusive Summer Band Camp.

Or so we thought.

Imagine the expressions on our faces when Jack’s parents dropped us off in the middle of the woods in Bum Fuck Muskegon. Boy, were we surprised!

What the fuck?

I remember this being my first thought as me and Jack stood there, clad in our regulation robin’s egg blue BLFAC polo shirts and navy blue shorts, mouths totally agape.

This is what you get for $300?

Nothing but dirt roads and trees for miles…So much for being exclusive!

You should’ve seen poor Jack when we checked in with our counselor over in the Broadway unit at Cabin Cabaret. Try saying that three times. Right next door to Brigadoon, Carousel, and Okla-homo!—I mean,
homa!

“Where are the walls?” he wondered, suitcase and pillow in hand.

“Maybe they can’t afford them,” I guessed, even though we were paying a shitload of money to be standing there. Somebody at BLFAC must have thought exposed beams were all the rage in early ’80s décor.

I realize when you’re little time goes by a lot slower, but they were the twelve longest (and poop-free) days of my life. Up at the butt crack of dawn for breakfast. Followed by Band practice. Followed by lunch. Followed by sectionals. Followed by dinner. Followed by whatever damn evening activity they had planned for us.

This one time they brought in this guy, Slim Goodbody, to put on a show. He wore this skintight bodysuit, painted to look like his skin was removed so you could see all his organs…Bogue!

Nobody wanted to sit and listen to good old Slim sing these stupid-assed songs about “Food is Fuel” and “Healthy Habits” and “Bones, Bones, Bones.” All the guys in our cabin thought Mr. Goodbody was a Total Fag, you know what I mean? Including me and Jack.

That was the one thing I noticed most about being at Blue Lake. Back at Webb, we had a tendency to get picked on—nothing major. We never got our asses kicked in the parking lot after school or anything, but people (guys mostly) would call us
fag
, just because we were friends with girls and liked to dance at the Fun Nights. Yet the entire twelve days we spent at BLFAC, the guys there were totally cool to us.

Even this one guy, Greg, who elected himself cabin leader.

“Hey, Dick Shine!”

Greg picked on everybody in Cabin Cabaret. He came from Kalamazoo, played alto sax, and was a year older than me and Jack. I’ll never forget he had bangs that hung in his eyes and hair on his legs…God, he was cute!

“Who, me?” asked Paul, a cellist from Southfield. He kept a stash of apricot nectar buried beneath his bunk. Greg nicknamed him “Berf.”

“No
you
, Faggot Ass!” Greg scowled at “Scooter.”

“What did
I
do?” Scooter wanted to know. His real name was Jay. He wore thick glasses, played baritone, and hailed from Milford. Or did he go to school at Mumford? I forget.

Scooter—I mean,
Jay
—was hilarious! Somewhere, I got a photo I took of him drying his tube socks with a blow dryer on the steps outside Cabin Cabaret. He had this totally nasal voice and he used to crack all of us up with the dumbest jokes.

This one was my favorite: “So there’s this lady, see? And one day, she sends her husband and kids off on a hunting trip…”

“Why, Jay?” I’d interrupt, even though I already heard him tell it a dozen times.

“Because,” Jay would answer. “She’s had
enough
.”

“So what did she do?” I’d prompt.

Causing Greg to yell, “Shut up, Dick Weed!” before he tossed a pillow at my head from his bunk beside mine and Jack’s.

“So,” Jay continued, “she makes a spot of chamomile tea, and she sinks herself into a hot tub. Just as soon as she’s all relaxed, there’s a knock at the door…”

Knock knock!

“The lady’s like, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t come to the door, I’m in the tub.’ And the guy at the door is all like, ‘Telegram…It’s important.’”

Meanwhile, I’m about to pee my pants!

“So the lady says, ‘Well…Could you just sing it?’ And the guy says, ‘But
lady…’ ‘Sing it!
’” (pause) “‘Dum dum dum dum dum dum…’ (singing) ‘Bob and the kids are dead.’ The End.”

Anyways!

Wanna know what Greg’s nickname for me and Jack ended up being?

“Brad the Nad” and “String Sucker.”

Wanna know why?

Well, Brad rhymes with nad, and Greg swore up and down he woke up in the middle of the night and caught Jack sucking on the strings of his sleeping bag in his sleep. But I didn’t believe him. By that point, I knew Jack for almost an entire year, and not once did I ever know him to suck on
anything
.

I don’t know why, but being picked on at Blue Lake never felt the same way as it does here in Hazeltucky. At BLFAC, if somebody called you
fag
, it was like a badge of honor. It didn’t mean they
really
thought you were one, even though I totally was—I mean,
am
.

You know I’m gay, right?

As in I like
boys
.

Just checking.

Today’s the big day!

Basically what happens is…Around 12:30 PM, two representatives from the Junior class come into the Choir room with ballots containing the names of all two hundred eighty-three Seniors of the HPHS Class of ’88 so that we members of Chorale can cast our “Top 25” vote.

“How have you been?”

One of the girls, Tracy Cardoza, I’m happy to see for the first time since school started a month ago.

“You know,” she shrugs, “hanging in there.”

I can’t believe how much Tracy’s changed since junior high at Webb. We weren’t ever really friends, but her sister, Lydia, has known my sister, Janelle, since we first moved to Ferndale. Back in 9
^th
grade, Tracy went with Jack Paterno to the Carnation Dance. I’ll never forget she wore this totally Madonna “Like a Virgin” get-up, complete with long gloves and matching scarves in her hair. Now three years later, I barely recognize her.

First of all, she’s super skinny. Not that Tracy was ever fat or anything, but I bet she’s lost at least twenty pounds. And now she’s a Total Punk. She’s traded her blond bob for a totally dyed-black, sticking-up-on-top/short-on-the-sides ’do—save for the long wisps coming down by her ears like sideburns. You should also see the way she’s dressed…Tight black tank top worn with black tights and black rubber bracelets cascading up and down her arms. She must have her ears pierced six or seven times on each side.

Good-bye Book Worm, hello Sex Kitten!

“What’s up?”

This I say to the other girl, a short, cute Vikette named Diane Thompson. She looks very Preppie sporting a beige cardigan with a brown turtleneck, pegged pants, and brown leather Bass loafers.

Diane replies, “Oh nothing.” She avoids looking at me like she thinks I totally hate her or something, just because she dumped Jack’s sorry ass after dating him during Junior year. Yet she asks, “Have you talked to Lou lately?”

Uh-oh, here we go!

I knew I wouldn’t be able to avoid this forever.

Where do I start?

‘member the two Senior girls I mentioned being friends with during Sophomore year? The ones who both made “Top 25”? Alyssa Resnick and Cheri Sheffield. Well, like Diane, Alyssa also dated Jack. And like Diane again, it only lasted a couple months.

Wanna know why?

I probably shouldn’t say anything. It’s none of my business, really. But the fact that I barely seen him since school began because of it is starting to piss me off, you know what I mean?

Jack Paterno is gay.

At least
I
think he is, and I been his Best Friend since 7th grade, so I should know, right?

To make a long story short…

Me and Jack met Alyssa and her other Best Friend, Luanne “Lou” Kowalski on a Marching Band bus trip at the beginning of Sophomore year. Well, Jack and Alyssa hit it off and started going together, which totally pissed Lou off because Lou is a lesbian, and she was in love with Alyssa at the time.

Fast forward to Valentine’s Day 1986…

This totally hot guy, Joey Palladino, moved back to Hazeltucky after his parents got a divorce. Him and Jack were Best Friends back in elementary school at Longfellow, I guess. Seeing Joey again made Jack realize he was in love with him, and probably had been since they were in like 4
^th
grade.

That’s about the time I had my
Okla-homo!
audition.

“You’re really gonna go thru with that?”

Jack immediately asked me this question when I mentioned I planned on trying out.

“I already told you, it’s what I wanna do with my life.”

Ever since Mrs. Malloy assigned us the
What I Want to Be When I Grow Up
paper earlier that year in 1
^st
hour English, I made up my mind…I, Bradley James Dayton, will be a famous actor someday!

Wanna know what Jack said when I confessed I’d be doing the Jane Seymour speech from
Somewhere in Time?

“But that’s a girl’s monologue.”

“So what?” I snapped, sounding totally defensive. “I like it and that’s all that counts.” Plus I can do an awesome Jane Seymour impression:
“Is it you?”

“Aren’t you gonna care what other people think?”

Didn’t I say Jack spends all his time worrying about other people? Me, I don’t give a shit what they think. The fact that I was auditioning for
Okla-homo!
already made me a Total Fag in most people’s eyes, you know what I mean? They don’t call ’em Drama
Queers
for nothin’.

And that was the moment I first told Jack I’m gay.

He claims he never knew. That he never once considered it, even though back in 9
^th
grade he helped me steal a copy of
Playgirl
from my sister, Janelle, and conduct a séance to resurrect the then-recently departed Jon-Erik Hexum from
Cover Up
and
Making of a Male Model
with Joan Collins. I can’t believe that after being my Best Friend for over three years, Jack didn’t suspect I could be (quote) a little light in the loafers (unquote).

Somehow, I managed to get him to admit that he thought he
might
be gay, too. So me and Lou took Jack out to this (gay) bar down on Woodward called Heaven. It’s a Total Dump, but we always had a good time.

For a while things were fine. Jack and Lou finally started getting along. When he wasn’t spending all his time with Joey Palladino, the three of would take drives in Lou’s Escort out 1–94 to Algonac, listening to Echo & the Bunnymen. Or we’d go to Elias Brothers (Big Boy’s), and Jack would sit while me and Lou drank coffee and smoked. After sooo many years of thinking I was the only gay person alive, now I had
two
friends who were both like me.

That’s about the time Jack got the letter.

Okay, Dianne Paterno didn’t exactly go that far, but she did say she was pretty sure Jack was (quote-unquote) in love with Joey Palladino. She also said she’d support him no matter what, which was totally cool if you ask me. But Jack totally freaked out.

Next thing I knew, no more gay Jack.

That summer, we barely saw each other, between me getting a job at Big Boy’s and working every night, and Jack taking Driver’s Ed and spending every day with Betsy Sheffield who he decided he was now (quote-unquote) in love with ever since the whole scan-jul with Joey caused them to stop being friends.

Not that she’s not nice, but Betsy can be a little stuck-up. I don’t know if it’s because she went to the other junior high, Beecher, and lives over in The Courts or what. Sometimes she gets this attitude like she thinks she’s better than everybody else, you know what I mean? It makes perfect sense that her and Jack would totally get along since he’s always acted this way, too. Did I mention that Betsy is Cheri Sheffield’s younger sister?

She’s also a Senior and happens to be sitting across the Choir room from me in the alto section at this very moment. I don’t know if anybody’s told Betsy, but it’s the first week of October and she’s got on khaki shorts worn with a navy sweatshirt turned inside out, matching socks, and penny loafers. She’s always prided herself in being totally Preppie.

Betsy is also a totally popular cheerleader. This is part of the reason I think Jack is friends with her in the first place. Ever since he dropped outta Band, Jack has been bound and determined to infiltrate the popular crowd. If you ask me, it’s totally lame. It’s not like he’s a loser or anything. Jack’s already friends with all the popular girls—it’s the
guys
who won’t give him the time of day.

Once we returned to school in the fall of ’86, Lou became drum major. Being in Marching Band under her direction totally sucked! Let’s just say, we didn’t call her “Baby Hitler” for nothing. To make matters worse, Jack decided to ask out Diane Thompson, even though he knew Lou totally had a thing for her and it would totally piss Lou off. Sure enough, it worked, and soon after, Lou started telling everybody (including Diane Thompson) that Jack was a Total Fag.

Even
I
thought this was true because it had been.

At least for a while.

I guess not anymore.

Poor Brad…I totally got caught in the middle. Between Lou dragging me out to the bar with her every Friday night after the football games, and wanting to stay Best Friends with Jack who I hardly seen now that he worked as a bagger at Farmer Jack’s, I didn’t know what to do.

I certainly wasn’t gonna lie about who I
really
am—certainly not to myself. Besides, it’s not like I went around advertising I’m a fag or anything. I just continued to act the way I always did.

So Diane eventually dumped Jack, making Lou a happy camper, even though she wasn’t gonna get her carpet munched anytime in the near future, since no sooner than Diane and Jack broke up, guess who she started going with next?

None other than the former love of Jack’s life: Joey Palladino.

Speaking of…

Back in the Choir room on “Top 25” day, I look over to see Diane hanging all over Joey while he’s trying to fill out his ballot. I can’t say I blame her. Like I said, he’s totally hot!

You should see him…He’s like 6’ tall, dark hair, dark eyes, totally muscular. He lifts weights at least five times a week. He always dresses super sharp in Guess? jeans, pegged at the bottom, and penny loafers sans socks. Again, I’m a sucker for bare ankles! He also wears this totally cool navy pea coat, and looks just like a Dago Donny Osmond when he grins.

“Who’s Jens Andersson?” I hear Joey ask.

“Got me hanging,” Audrey replies from where she sits with the sopranos. The way she’s chewing her pencil calls to mind the expression
oral fixation
.

Our Senior class president, Jamieleeann Mary Sue Good, fills us in. “He’s that new guy from Sweden.” Jamie should know—she’s friends with everybody.

For the first time since the ’70s, Hillbilly High has not one, but
two
foreign exchange students. One of them is the aforementioned Jens Andersson. He’s something like 6’4” and totally blond, so he sticks out like a sore thumb.

I met him briefly when we were both out smoking on Skid Row at the beginning of the school year. Standing there in his Varsity football jersey puffing on a Parliament, I remember him saying in his accented English, “All de kids are allowed to smoke in Sweden, ya!”

Joey tells Jamie, “I think I’ll vote for him…He seems cool.”

It’s a good thing Jack isn’t in Chorale to hear a comment like that.

Ever since this whole “Top 25” thing started, he’s been up on his soapbox preaching to everybody how it’s nothing but a big popularity contest. How the people who end up getting picked are the ones who do
nothing
for our school and have
no
spirit. If that guy Jens gets elected after being at HPHS for all of a month, Jack is gonna be sooo pissed!

“What about Maria Torres-Padilla?” I ask the girl sitting next to me, Tonya Tyler.

“She’s the foreign exchange chick from Bolivia,” Tonya answers, bare footsies up on the chair in front of her, flats on the floor beside it.

“Brazil,” Jamie Good announces, correcting her friend.

“She’s kinda hot, isn’t she?” I hear Joey say, joining in on our conversation.

“Hey!” Diane Thompson hisses. She hits him hard upon the massive shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” Joey replies. “You’re hotter.” Then he puckers up and plants one on her.

Personally, I always thought Joey’s gay.

Not that he acts like a fag or anything. But the only explanation I could come up with for his sudden interest in Diane Thompson after she broke up with Jack stemmed from Joey wanting to get back at him…But why?

This one time I came right out and asked Jack if him and Joey ever messed around back in 10
^th
grade. He claimed they never did, which if you ask me, is totally lame on Jack’s part. If I had a friend who was half as hot as Joey Palladino and I suspected he
might
be the slightest bit faggy, I’d totally be all over him.

Anyways!

The next day we have an all-school assembly…

I’m sitting with Audrey, Jamie Good, Tonya Tyler, and the rest of Chorale. I don’t know why, but we always have these gatherings during 4
^th
hour. Since it immediately follows lunch, everybody’s supposed to report directly to the auditorium. For the most part, people take it as an opportunity to skip. Especially the ones who got Mrs. Carey for French.