Alice on the Outside

  “Well, you know what I think? I think your folks will get used to it in time. Your brothers too.”

  “They’ve had all this time since I was six years old. That’s the soonest I began to think I was different—the soonest I can remember, anyway. Whenever Mom took me to a toy store, I went right to the boys’ stuff. I always wanted cowboy things for Christmas. I wouldn’t play with the Barbies.” Lori laughed a little. “My aunt gave me a Barbie doll for Christmas once and I took it apart.”

  We really laughed then. And somehow it helped—Lori and I laughing together.

  “But it wasn’t just that. For the past few years, it’s the feeling that I’m really interested in girls. That I love them, the way a guy would love them. Anyway … ,” she said, and got up. She crossed the room and opened the top drawer of her dresser, then came back with a small square box. “I hope you don’t mind, but I got this for you.”

  “What?”

  “Go ahead. Open it. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  I opened the box and found a bracelet—a silver chain bracelet, linked together with green stones.

  “It’s pretty, Lori,” I said, holding it up.

  “You said green was your favorite color.”

  “It is. But I didn’t buy you a present.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’d just like to see you wear it. A friendship bracelet or something. You don’t have to tell anyone who gave it to you.”

  “I wouldn’t mind,” I told her.

  Lori gave me a little smile. “Well, maybe. Anyway,” she said again, “let’s see what else is on. This movie’s really awful.”

  We had to use the bathroom downstairs before we went to bed. I went first, then Lori. When we turned out the light and got in the twin beds, I wondered for a moment if she would try to kiss me or something—whether I’d wake up in the night and find her in bed with me. But it never happened. It was just like being at Pamela’s or Elizabeth’s, except we didn’t know each other as well. And I wondered why people seem so afraid that someone who’s gay or lesbian might make a pass at them. All you have to say is no, just like you’d tell a guy who was hitting on you.

  I woke first in the morning and lay with my head propped up on one hand, watching Lori sleep. I tried to imagine what it must be like to feel so different—so disconnected from everyone else. Like, what if I lived in a world where the normal thing was to like members of your own sex, and I just couldn’t seem to feel that way about girls? No matter how I tried, they just didn’t turn me on, and I kept liking boys best. And I had to keep hiding my feelings about how I felt about Patrick—couldn’t hold hands with him or kiss him or anything. What if I knew that everyone expected me to fall in love with a girl and spend the rest of my life with her, and I just didn’t want to?

  I also began to worry that maybe Lori’s giving me a bracelet meant she was about to do something desperate, the way Denise Whitlock had given me presents before she stepped in front of a train.

  I tiptoed downstairs and used the bathroom, and when I dressed, I put on the bracelet.

  Lori woke up when I was tying my sneakers.

  “Hey, you’re up!” she said. “I didn’t snore, did I?”

  “I wouldn’t know. Slept like a log,” I told her.

  At breakfast, it was just Lori, her folks, and me. Her brothers were still asleep.

  “What a beautiful bracelet, Alice! It matches your eyes,” said her mother.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I like it too. I got it from a friend.”

  8

  A SLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDING

  I DECIDED NOT TO SAY ANYTHING TO Elizabeth and Pamela about Lori, because this was her own private business. I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about it, but Lori didn’t need any more problems in her life right now. I knew I was going to talk to Dad and Lester about it, though, because I tell them everything. Well, almost everything.

  Mrs. Haynes and Lori drove me to the Melody Inn at nine, and I was glad to see that Lori didn’t appear at all suicidal. Her mom obviously loved her, and would go on loving her, even after Lori told her secret.

  “Thanks for inviting me,” I said as I got out.

  “See you!” Lori said, and smiled.

  When I walked in the Melody Inn, though, and over to the Gift Shoppe where Marilyn works, it felt as though I were walking into a morgue. Marilyn didn’t say much, and her eyes got teary at the least little thing. I made it a point not to mention Lester, but that’s all she wanted to talk about.

  “Is he happy now, Alice?” she asked. “Is that really what he wanted—to end our relationship?”

  “I don’t know, Marilyn. He’s just the same old Lester, I guess,” I said miserably.

  She turned on me then. “Well, give him a message from Good Ole Marilyn then, would you? Tell him that some day, when he’s sixty years old, The Same Old Lester will be sitting in his same old chair by his same old self, and he’ll suddenly wonder what happened. He’ll have no hair, no teeth, no love, no joy, no woman in his life, and he’ll have missed the boat completely.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  She sighed and began straightening the Beethoven mugs and the Scarlotti scarves on the shelf behind her, her long brown hair hanging loosely down her back, looking about as forlorn as she ever had. “Oh, I shouldn’t be getting you mixed up in all this,” she said. “But if someone were to bury Lester in an anthill up to his armpits right now, I would laugh, Alice! Laugh!”

  I was glad when Dad asked me to help Janice Sherman in sheet music, but when I went over there, she was in a bad mood. Seems she’d heard that Miss Summers was going to England for a year, and I knew right off she’d thought maybe she’d have a chance with Dad after all. But then she’d asked him to a play at the Kennedy Center and he’d turned her down.

  “Does he really have plans for next Saturday night, I wonder?” she mused aloud in my direction.

  “Maybe he’s doing something with Miss Summers,” I offered, trying to be honest.

  Janice dropped the glasses that hung on a chain around her neck and stared at me. “I … I thought she was going to England!” she said.

  “She is, but they’re going to write to each other,” I told her, and that’s when she really got bossy. I was glad when my three hours were up, and spent the afternoon washing all my sweaters and putting them away for the summer—getting out my shorts and sandals.

  I made a chicken salad for dinner and defrosted some rolls.

  “This is really good, Al!” said Dad. Then he joked, “You’re going to make someone a wonderful wife.”

  I gave him a look, but wondered how Lori would feel if her dad said that to her.

  “Thanks, but I’m feeling sort of sad for somebody,” I said.

  “Who? The chicken?” asked Lester.

  “I’m feeling sorry for Marilyn, if you really want to know,” I told him.

  “Don’t start,” said Lester.

  “I should be feeling sorry for you, though, because she said that when you’re old and alone, sailing your boat without any teeth—”

  “My boat? Teeth?”

  “Well, maybe she said you’ll be missing the boat, and when you’re alone and without any love or teeth, you could be buried in an anthill up to your armpits and she’d just laugh,” I finished, confused.

  “I think you’re both missing a few cards in your deck,” said Lester, and went right on eating.

  “She’s crazy in love with you, and you don’t even care!” I said. “If you can’t love a wonderful girl like Marilyn, who can you love?” I sounded like somebody on a talk show.

  “Would you like me to lie down on the couch, Doctor, or can you analyze me sitting up?” said Lester. “Look, kiddo. I’ll tell you what I’m afraid of. I’m afraid of settling down at twenty-one with a nice girl like Marilyn and having to watch her give up her own plans in order to put me through graduate school. I’m afraid of our having a child too soon and neither one of us being able to finish college. I’m afraid of g
etting married so early I’ll be a completely different person from who I’ll be when I’m twenty-seven or twenty-eight, and that the girls I loved at twenty-one—the girl I loved at twenty-one—wouldn’t be the same kind of girl I’d love later. And then I will have made two people unhappy—me and Marilyn.”

  “Well said, Les,” Dad put in.

  “And also,” Lester continued, “I’m seeing another woman.”

  I put down my fork. “Who?”

  “Her name’s Eva. I’ll introduce you sometime.”

  “Then you dropped Marilyn for Eva?”

  “That was part of the reason we broke up.”

  I began to get the picture. Up until now, Lester had worked at the appliance store every other Saturday, and done tutoring at the university. Now suddenly he’d met a woman named Eva, and had to have more money.

  “Crystal and Marilyn never minded that you didn’t have a lot of money,” I said.

  “Al, for Pete’s sake, that isn’t your business in the least,” said Dad.

  “Thank you,” said Lester.

  I sighed. I was still thinking of Marilyn, and wasn’t sure I’d like Eva. “The world is full of unrequited love,” I said finally.

  “You and Patrick having problems?” Dad asked, reaching around to get the butter out of the fridge.

  “No, I was just wondering what you would say if I told you I was a lesbian.”

  “Come again?” said Lester. “I’m having a hard time following this conversation.”

  Dad just looked at me. “Is this a hypothetical question?” he asked finally.

  “Actually, yes, but I wanted to see your reaction,” I told them.

  “Well, on one level, I suppose I’d be disappointed, Al,” said Dad. “On another, I think I’d be a little bit sad, and on another, I think I’d be happy for you.”

  “How?” I wanted to know.

  “I think I’d be disappointed that you wouldn’t know the happiness of having a husband and children; I’d be sad that you were part of a minority, because I know—and you know, from CRW—that minorities are usually never treated as well as everyone else; but I’d be happy if you found someone you could love. What brought this up, if I may ask?”

  “I just spent the night with a lesbian,” I said.

  I saw Dad swallow.

  “Gotcha!” I said. “You were worried, weren’t you? Actually, nothing happened. Lori Haynes said she liked me, and she gave me a bracelet, but I told her I don’t feel the same way about her, so we’re just friends.”

  “Good for you, Al,” he said. “I’m glad you’re still friends.”

  “It’s funny how people react to that,” Lester said, helping himself to another roll. “Couple months ago at the U, a gay man approached a friend of mine in the men’s room, and my friend decked him. Now my friend’s going around bragging about it.”

  “Why couldn’t he just have said ‘No, thanks’?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Lester. “It just seemed the right reaction to the proposal, he told me. To show that he wasn’t gay. Personally, I think that a guy who has to answer a proposal with a left to the chin is protesting a little too much.”

  I sat there wishing that when Lori Haynes finally got up the nerve to tell her family, they’d be as kind as Dad and Lester were to me.

  “I really love you guys,” I said suddenly.

  “That’s why we know you aren’t a lesbian,” Lester told me. “The men in this family are so wonderful that women just have to love us most.”

  The following Saturday, the Saturday Janice had invited Dad to the Kennedy Center and he turned her down, he took Miss Summers to the movies instead, and I was glad, in case Janice Sherman asked me, that I’d be able to say that Dad did have other plans. She hadn’t said anything more that morning when I’d put in my three hours at the Melody Inn, but I could tell she was thinking plenty.

  It had been a beautiful April day, and that afternoon Dad had lowered the porch swing, which is the official start of spring and summer at our house. Around November he hooks it way up close to the ceiling so it won’t blow around in the wind, and in April he brings it down. I washed it off and hosed the porch again. That’s about as far as spring cleaning goes at our place. I did my usual Saturday scrubbing of the kitchen and bathroom (Lester does the vacuuming on Sundays), and then I started calling my friends to see what was up.

  Not much, actually. Pamela had to go somewhere with her father, Elizabeth had cramps, my friends Karen and Jill were both going out for the evening, and Patrick was at a state band competition in Towson. I thought of Leslie, from school, and looked up her number, but nobody answered the phone.

  About eight, I heard Lester’s stereo playing, so I went up and tapped on his door.

  “You’re not going out with Eva?” I asked.

  “I’m taking her to dinner tomorrow,” he said.

  “Then want to rent a movie and make popcorn?” I asked. “I’ll watch anything you want—female wrestling, westerns, sexy movies with French subtitles I’m not supposed to see until I’m eighteen …”

  “In your dreams,” said Les. But then he put down his pen and said, “Know what? I do need a break. You want to watch a flick, I’ll rent one. Put on the popcorn.”

  Maybe I had mental telepathy, I thought as I melted some butter on the stove and got out the air popper. Maybe I knew what a person needed before he even opened his mouth. If that was true, I would make a good psychiatrist.

  We only live three minutes from a video store, and Lester came back with a crime movie filled with men in dark suits, which was way down my list of favorites, but at least we were going to do something together. We sat on the couch, a big bowl of popcorn and a bottle of Sprite between us, and I’ll admit I dozed off a few times. I woke the third time to see a man kissing another man on the cheek, and five minutes later, he had his head blown off.

  Suddenly I had this weird thought: Maybe Lester was gay! Maybe the real reason he gave up two gorgeous girls and was sitting here on a Saturday night watching a movie about men kissing was that he, like Lori Haynes, was finally realizing the truth about himself. Maybe there wasn’t any Eva at all. Was it possible?

  I glanced sideways at Lester. He shoved another handful of popcorn into his mouth, his stockinged feet on the coffee table. To be honest, Lester had always seemed crazy for girls, but what if it was all a big put-on?

  There was a car chase on the screen, and Lester’s eyes were glued to the set. Both Lester and I had our shoes off, and I was barefoot, so slowly, to test him, I inched my toes toward his and sort of crawled up and down his foot. He didn’t even notice! Was that significant or what?

  “Man! Look at that jump!” Lester exclaimed as a man leaped from a burning building.

  I gently ran my finger over his nose and upper lip.

  Lester jerked around and stared at me. “Get out of here!” he said, pushing my hand away. “What are you doing?”

  “Just a test, Lester,” I said, and reached for the popcorn again.

  When the movie was over, I said, “Lester, that story you told about the guy who made a pass at someone in the men’s room … was that you?”

  “What?”

  “I told you you could even bring home a sexy movie with French subtitles, and instead you got a movie about men kissing.”

  He just kept staring at me. “That was the Mafia! The kiss of death!”

  “Oh! I just thought … maybe the real reason you broke up with Marilyn was—”

  “That I’m gay? Al, I’m in school! I’ve got graduate school ahead of me. I’m only twenty-one, I’ve met another girl, and you’re insane!”

  I sighed. “Okay. So I was mistaken.” I didn’t get up, though. “I guess I’ve been thinking a lot about Lori, trying to figure out just how I feel about it.”

  “What’s to wonder about?”

  “If she really is a lesbian.”

  “Well, I don’t know, but maybe she’s confused and won’t know for a f
ew years yet. She may just be going through some adolescent crushes on girls. On the other hand, if she really is lesbian, she can probably no more change than a person can force herself to like Brussels sprouts. It’s just the way she is, that’s all.”

  “Then why are there all these jokes about gay people? All the teasing and stuff?”

  “You tell me. Some people are just afraid of people who are different, that’s all. Isn’t that what CRW was all about? Prejudice?”

  Lester took the Sprite bottle and bopped me lightly on the head with it a couple times. It made a hollow sound as though my head were empty. “As for you,” he said, “remember that it takes a medical degree to be a psychiatrist, Al, and you can be arrested for practicing without a license.”

  I had just picked up the empty popcorn bowl and was starting toward the kitchen when the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” said Les, and I went on down the hall. I heard the door open, and then a woman’s voice, followed by a sob.

  Crystal!

  I stood like a statue in the kitchen. Here I was supposed to be protecting him from her, and he’d walked right into a trap. How could I go out in the living room now?

  “Now what’s this all about?” I heard him say, but his voice was gentle.

  What was she doing here? Crystal was married! I’d been a bridesmaid at her wedding only six months ago! She and Peter were supposed to live happily ever after!

  “I … I think I made a mistake marrying Peter,” she sobbed. I could hear every single word she said, mostly, I guess, because I was standing just inside the kitchen doorway.

  I heard Lester close the front door and say, “You shouldn’t be here, you know.”

  “Les, you’re the only one I can talk to.”

  “Now that’s not true.”

  “But I have to talk to you, because you’re involved.”

  My heart almost stopped. Maybe she was pregnant! Maybe she was having Lester’s baby! Maybe I was going to be an aunt!

  “And how is that?” I heard Lester say.

  Crystal kept on crying. “Aren’t you even going to ask me to sit down?”