Marionette (21 page)

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Authors: T. B. Markinson

BOOK: Marionette
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I grunted in reply. Jess handed me a cup of coffee and sat down next to me. After pulling myself into an upright position, I took a swig.

“Mornings should be illegal.”

She brushed some hair off my cheek. “Some of us enjoy them.”

“That’s because you’re sick and demented.” I glanced at the clock, which alerted me that I didn’t have much time. Slamming down half of my coffee, I then crawled out of bed and hauled my exhausted body to the shower. The mirror was fogged over from Jess’s shower, preventing me from seeing how bad I looked.

Before I left the apartment, Jess handed me a travel mug of coffee and a breakfast bar. How in the world was she so organized all of the time?

Traffic was light at that time of day, and fortunately there was a parking spot right in front of my dorm room. I ran upstairs to grab my French notebook. Minnie was nowhere to be seen, but Karen was asleep in my bed. Did Jenna have company?

I didn’t have time to ask, and Karen never stirred.

By two in the afternoon, I was spent. Skipping my afternoon walk to settle my mind, I went straight to my dorm room.

Karen, Tom, Jenna, and Minnie were in a deep discussion. Before I had even set my backpack down, Karen asked, “Paige, what do you think?”

It didn’t take much effort to see that Minnie felt like she was being attacked.

“Um, about what?” I really didn’t want to get involved.

“Amendment 2.” Karen swiveled her head to stare me down.

I knew something about it because Jess was so involved in her gay group. Basically, it denied gays and lesbians the right to be recognized as a protected class, which opened the door for lawful discrimination, but I wasn’t sure what angle I should take.

“What about it?” I stalled.

Karen whipped around to face Minnie. “Audrey, here, thinks that gays shouldn’t have any rights whatsoever.” She waved her finger in Minnie’s face.

This was not a conversation I wanted to have with any of them. It hit way too close to home for me. Yet, I also knew I couldn’t side with Minnie. Going on fake dates with Tom was one thing, but condemning gay people altogether was another.

“I don’t see what the fuss is all about really,” I croaked.

Karen scrutinized me. Tom and Jenna stared at their feet.

“What do you mean?” asked Minnie, hopefully.

“So what if people are gay.” I waved a hand nonchalantly through the air. “It doesn’t bother me one bit. None of my business really.” I looked Minnie in the eyes. “And none of yours.”

“You see, even Paige is with us.” Karen looked triumphant.

All three of them were against Minnie, which surprised me somewhat. Tom was a nice guy, but I figured a good ol’ boy would be homophobic. I wasn’t surprised by Karen and Jenna. They were on the basketball team, and half of their teammates were probably dykes. You couldn’t be a female jock and be homophobic in our part of the world.

“It’s just wrong,” stated Minnie. “According to my church, homosexuality is a sin.”

“Come on, Audrey. Times have changed. The Bible can’t be taken literally. Why, it even tells people not to eat lobsters.” Tom tried to lighten the mood.

“Wow, you mean I’m doing something right? I hate lobster,” I declared.

Tom gave me a sly smile.

Karen put her hand up to silence me. Humor was not allowed for the moment. “It’s not funny. My brother is gay, and he tried to kill himself—‌” She bolted out of the room in tears.

The four of us studied each other. From the expressions on everyone’s faces, none of them had known about that; I sure in hell didn’t.

“I didn’t know,” Minnie whispered as she slid onto her chair.

“I knew she had a brother,” offered Jenna.

“One of us should talk to her.” I stated the obvious. None of us knew who was the best emissary to send. “I’m sorry, Audrey. I know you are better at this, but I think you should hang back for now.”

She nodded numbly.

“I’m her roommate,” said Jenna, but she stood immobile.

“I’ll go.” Tom started for the bathroom.

“I’ll go with you.” I followed hesitantly.

We found Karen on her bed with a pillow over her head. I sat down on the bed next to her and rubbed her back. Jess did that when I cried. Tom pulled up a chair and sat down next to her. Tenderly, he took her hand and held it.

No one spoke for several seconds.

Karen pulled the pillow from her face and seemed taken aback to see Tom and me sitting there. She smiled meekly. “I didn’t mean to break down like that.” She sat up on her bed, wiped her eyes with her sleeve, and then hugged her pillow tightly.

“It’s okay.” I adjusted my position on the bed so I could face her. “I’m sorry, Karen. I had no idea; otherwise I wouldn’t have joked about the situation.”

She waved my words away and stifled a sob. “Oh, I wasn’t upset about that. I just get so worked up about this.”

Tom started to say something, and then stopped.

“All of these protests for Amendment 2 are driving me insane. So many people don’t know how painful it can be for gay people or for their families.”

“How’s your brother, Karen?” Tom finally found the words he had been searching for.

“Oh, he’s doing much better these days. In fact, he speaks to high school students about his experiences. He’s the bravest person I know.”

I nodded.

Karen continued. “He…‌did it many years ago. He’s a few years older than me—‌I was an afterthought.” She attempted to giggle, but it stayed in her throat. “Jake was always so protective of me, and brave. When he…” She burst into sobs again.

Before I knew what to do, Karen leaned against me for a hug. I wrapped my arms around her, and Tom moved to the side of the bed to get closer.

In between sobs, she revealed more of the story. “He t-took a b-bottle of pills, and the doctors p-pumped his stomach.” She paused to take a deep breath. “My p-parents found him in his room.”

I heard noises and looked up to see Minnie and Jenna standing by the door, clearly unsure of what to do.

Karen continued. “The doctors said my parents found him in the nick of time.” She wiped her eyes and pulled away from me, locking eyes on Minnie.

“Karen, I’m so sorry,” babbled Minnie, rushing over to hug her.

Jenna followed suit, reluctantly, and Tom and I retreated to the opposite side of the room to give them some space.

He looked at me with eyes that seemed troubled with the burden of Karen’s account. “Can I take you to dinner tonight?” His words were barely audible.

I almost burst into laughter. What a time to ask me on a second date. Then I realized he was trying to be supportive. I leaned up against him and he kissed the back of my head.

“Sure. Let’s wait to make sure everything will be okay.”

“Of course. They can come if they want.”

His gesture touched me—‌and made me feel like a shit for playing with the emotions of such a sweet soul. As it turned out, Karen and Jenna had a team meeting that night, and Minnie had a study group to attend, so Tom and I headed out alone. We didn’t talk much, and I was relieved when he suggested a movie afterwards. I needed some quiet time before heading back to my dorm room to deal with everything. Of all the roomies the university could have placed me with, I was stuck with a girl whose brother tried to off himself. Now that the cat was out of the bag, I thought Karen might want to talk about it, and to educate the homophobe, Minnie. I groaned at the thought. I wasn’t in the mood for homosexual education.

People’s reactions when they find out someone is gay annoy the hell out of me. They usually say something stupid or offensive. I’ve defined three categories. Category one: ignorant, but well meaning. People from this level might say something like, “My cousin who lives in Hawaii is gay. Do you know him?”

No dumbass, I live thousands of miles away from Hawaii
. But you have to be polite to these people, who just don’t know what to say but are trying to be nice.

Category two: ignorant and insulting. An example is: “How do you know which one of you should take out the trash?”

Please, are you so stupid that you stick to strict gender roles in your own life? It’s the twentieth century asshole; wake up and smell the equality.

Category three is the most dangerous. Men often fall into this category. One of their statements follows this logic: “How do you survive without having sex with a man? Don’t you like dick?”

First, I don’t like dick or dicks of any type. Second, your poor wife or girlfriend.
Imagine being stuck with an ass who only assumes the missionary position to satisfy himself and no one else. Monotonous and unimaginative. Sex should be fun for both partners, not just the males. Dick or no dick.

I don’t go into details with people who ask me that question. I figure they would never understand, because they don’t want to. My orgasms are plentiful and usually multiple. And I never have to fake it. Never. It’s amazing how much joy you can receive when the male ego is not involved.

I’ve heard Jess handle this question on many occasions. She kills me. She loves to respond with, “Well, I can see in your eyes that
you
like dick. Be proud.”

One guy was so stupid that he didn’t get her meaning. When he said, “Hell yeah! Dick pride!” I almost choked to death on my drink. Most guys get defensive and say, “Fuck off, you dyke.”

One guy even threatened her, but Jess knew the owner of the bar and he got 86’d permanently.

I never have witty comebacks when jerks confront us when we are out. Once, while driving, someone cut me off in traffic. I went to flip him the bird, but instead I gave him a thumbs up. Jess laughed hysterically and said, “You sure showed him!”

She’s never been bothered that I’m not overtly confrontational. People can think what they want; I don’t give a crap. Jess tries to educate people, which took some getting used to for me, but everyone is different. I’m learning to accept that.

I’ll have to remember that lesson when Karen starts her crusade to turn Minnie into a gay-loving Catholic.

Now, religious people, I don’t get them at all. I can never remember a day when I thought God existed. At times it would be nice—‌easier maybe—‌but I consider that I’m responsible for me. There’s no predestination. No afterlife. This is my one shot, which kinda puts that whole suicide thing into perspective. Maybe if I were more logical, I would have something brilliant to say on the subject. I’m not. I just don’t get religion.

Chapter Sixteen

The bandages on my wrists itched. As I made my way to Liddy’s office, I worried about what she’d say. Would she give me time to explain, or would she throw me into a padded room instantly and duct tape my mouth shut so I couldn’t talk my way out of it? It was hard enough hiding the bandages from my roomies.

Liddy wasn’t in her office, so I sat in the chair, with my backpack on my lap and held it with both arms to hide the bandages. Earlier in the semester, the room had been stifling, but now it was freezing. Didn’t they have any air conditioning or heat in this basement?

Liddy rushed in, full of apologies.

After she sat down and issued her third apology, I mumbled, “Don’t worry about it.”

She shivered. “Aren’t you cold?”

I was trying to stop my teeth from chattering. “Oh, it’s not that bad in here.”

“What? It’s as cold as the North Pole. Didn’t you wear a jacket today?”

I shook my head. The arctic front had taken me by surprise. Yesterday had been pleasant enough, but today I thought my fingers would freeze and fall off.

“I didn’t check the weather on the news.” I shrugged.

“You poor thing. Your cheeks are still red from the wind.” She stood up and grabbed her jacket. “Here, put this on.”

I didn’t know how to refuse, and I was freezing. Carefully, I stood to yank her jacket on without revealing the bandages.

“Paige!”

I wasn’t successful.

“It’s not what you think!” I rushed out of arm’s length, in case she tried to grab me.

“Why didn’t you call me? You can call me twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. You have all of my numbers.” She moved closer to me and gingerly took my right arm.

I had to laugh. Liddy was being so sweet and supportive.

“Don’t laugh. This is serious.”

“I know. Permanent.”

That caused her to step back. “Permanent? What?”

“I got tattoos last night to hide my scars. I’m tired of always wearing long sleeves or freaking out that my roommate will see my arms while I’m asleep.”

Liddy started laughing hysterically. “Oh, thank God.” She moved back to her chair, still laughing. “By the way, does Jess know to call me if anything does happen?”

“Trust me, Jess will send a helicopter or jet to get you there.” I wrapped Liddy’s jacket more tightly around me, and settled back into my chair.

“I think I would like this Jess.”

I hesitated, unsure how to proceed. “I think you would.”

“What’s she like?”

And there it was; she didn’t even give me an option. Of course, I could lie, but both of us would know I was lying.

“How long have you known?”

“Flags go up for me when one of my clients plays the pronoun game.”

“The pronoun game?”

“When you talk about Jess, you never use any words to suggest Jess’s sex. Jess said this. Jess thinks that. People don’t talk like that unless they are hiding something.”

“But you are the first one to call me out on it.” I defended myself.

“Not many people are looking for clues like that. Don’t worry. I doubt that your roommates know. I have a feeling you are good at hiding things.” She gestured to my wrists. “How do they look?”

I touched one of my arms. “Right now, red and gross. Jess—‌my girlfriend—‌says they’ll heal and they should look normal in a few weeks. Is that better?”

“A little. Still not natural.” She winked at me. “What are they?”

I reddened. “Japanese symbols. Jess found some proverbs about strength and the markings of the letters hide my scars completely.”

Before we had gone to get the tattoos done, Jess had handed me a list of proverbs. The only one that struck me was: Even monkeys fall from trees. It left me in fits of laughter. I let Jess choose the other one: Seven times down, eight times up. I still don’t get it, but not many people can decipher my tattoos, so I can make up shit.

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