“We already did,” Lauren smiled. “So can we get ice cream now?”
“Yeah! Ice cream!” Annie jumped in excitement.
“Now, now. You know your mother doesn’t like when I feed you ice cream.”
“But, Mom!” Lauren and Annie pleaded.
“Did I say no?”
The kids latched arms and hopped in joyous, synchronized circles. “Ice cream! Ice cream! Ice cream!”
“Be careful,” I said. Lauren’s foot grazed the top of Annie’s masterpiece sitting peacefully on the linoleum tiles. “You wouldn’t want to get Annie’s picture dirty.”
Four pairs of cinnamon eyes and a lone set of aquamarine eyes darted to me instantly when her name escaped my lips. Ms. Bell’s blue eyes were like sharp, ice daggers piercing my skin with goosebumps. The cinnamon eyes of Mr. Bell flickered in annoyance, confusion, and mistrust. Lauren and Dylan glanced at me immediately, and then they diverted their eyes back and forth between their mother and father. Annie’s cinnamon eyes were the only pleasant ones to look upon; they lit up like a lone beacon from a lighthouse.
“Annie?” Mr. Bell questioned. Ms. Bell echoed her own inquiry.
“You’re right! Katlynn! Thank you!” Annie was beaming. She bent down, scooping up the piece of paper as if it were a delicate rose from a thorn bush. Her smile grew ten times wider, from ear to ear, as she rediscovered her work of art. “This is for you, Daddy!”
Dylan shot me a worried glance, and I knew that I had made a mistake by saying anything.
Mr. Bell gave his Santa Claus laugh and reached out to take the paper from his child. “You drew me a picture, Tony boy?”
Tony boy? I cringed.
As Mr. Bell examined the rainbow scribbles on the paper, everyone stared in uncomfortable silence. The silence spoke louder than anything we could have said.
“Can you tell me about this picture?” It was the typical, go-to question for getting a child to explain what the scribbles meant.
“Okay!” Annie was ecstatic. “This is Momma, in the purple. She’s the queen in the rainbow tower. That’s Dylan, the blue knight who has to beat the mean green dragon, who has kidnapped Princess Katlynn. She’s also purple, but I drew her hair yellow. This is the scary, evil dragon who kidnapped her. He’s got razor sharp teeth and a long tail and scary red scales and lightning-fire breath. But, dragons don’t have mustaches, so I didn’t draw one on there.”
Dylan chuckled.
“That one there on the other side of the tower is you, Daddy,” Annie continued. “I drew you in gray, because your hair is gray. Even though you don’t say so. And that’s Lauren, who is a scary, ugly dragon! But she doesn’t have to be mean, which is why she is purple, too. She’s a nice dragon. Sometimes.”
“Where are you?”
Dylan discretely collapsed into the chair next to me. I watched his face contort with strained discomfort. His leg came to life under the table, rattling beneath the tablecloth in sporadic vibrations.
“Silly Daddy. That’s me!” Annie pointed to the center of the paper. “In the pink. I’m a Warrior Princess.”
The silence was deafening.
~*~
Lauren
Dear Diary,
Even I will admit that Daddy was terrifying after Anthony’s picture. I’d never heard him swear so much in his life. Even before the divorce. Even during the divorce.
I’d never seen Anthony cry so hard, either. And when he rushed up the stairs to his bedroom, Dylan was quick to follow. Mom, naturally, pushed Daddy outside onto the deck to “have a word with him.” Leaving me with Katlynn in the kitchen.
We didn’t talk for the longest time, but finally I decided to come clean. I knew what the big deal was: Anthony is gay. Most dads don’t like that according to Jayson.
But, Katlynn told me I was wrong. Anthony may be gay, she said, but that’s not the real issue. She said the term was “a transgender.” It’s our “internal self-awareness of our gender.” Sometimes, people are born in the wrong bodies, she said, and we don’t get the same parts as who we are inside.
Which means, Anthony is really my sister. Which is weird until you really think about it. Like, he—I mean, she didn’t choose to come out as a boy, it just happened. And like, you don’t get to choose if you’re born with brown eyes or blue eyes or right or left handed. I mean, I would’ve totally chosen to have Mom’s eyes instead of Daddy’s nasty brown ones. But, that’s not how life works.
But after listening to Daddy’s blow up, I can’t help but feel sorry for what Anthony is going to go through. Like, his—sorry, her own dad thinks she is some sort of corrupted monster…
Well, I for one refuse to see her as such. I love my brother. Err, sister. Gosh, this is going to take forever to get used to…
~*~
Annie
Katlynn says I’m a Princess. Princess Annie, she calls me. It makes me smile.
Dylan and Lauren play Princess with me sometimes, too. Dylan says that I make a great, strong Princess. Lauren says that I’m almost more prettier than she was as a Princess. I make her be the evil dragon most of the time.
Momma says I can be whoever I want to be. Whether that’s a Princess or an Astronaut or a Cowboy. Even a Cowgirl, if I want.
After Daddy left, she took me to the store and she bought me a new Princess dress. My own! She said if I was good for Dylan the next few days that she would buy me a matching crown next time.
When we got home, I tried it on. Lauren said I was certainly more prettier than she was when she used to be a Princess. Dylan bowed to me as I walked out into the living room.
Momma looked at me. Her eyes fluttered, and she smiled. So, I smiled back.
“You’re beautiful.”
Then, she started crying. I usually cry when I’m sad. But Dylan says that she wasn’t sad. That this was a good cry. He says that sometimes you can be so happy that you cry. But, he hadn’t said that when Momma was crying then.
So, I hugged her. And she hugged me back.
I told her I loved her. She just hugged me tighter.
“I love you too, my little Princess.”
About the Author
Adam Kuta is an openly gay – and proud – writer with a passion for telling stories for youth centered on diverse casts, LGBT issues, and acceptance. With a focus on screenplays, teleplays, and video game scripts, Kuta specializes in interactive storytelling, edutainment, and creating strong characters with diverse backgrounds and unique voices.
Kuta is credited as a game designer for two mobile video games. His literary work has been published in Crab Fat Literary Magazine, where he was nominated for the 2016 PushCart Prize. Kuta has also written several stage plays that were put up at the Center for Living Arts in the Quad Cities area of Iowa and Illinois, his hometown.
Raised in Davenport, Iowa, Kuta grew up enjoying video games, cartoons, and Power Rangers. Storytelling has always been an important aspect of his life, which led him to writing and pursuing his degree. He is currently earning a Creative Writing for Entertainment Bachelor of Fine Arts degree at Full Sail University in Winter Park, Florida.
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