Out of the Closet

  “What were you?” Hila asked.

  “Infantry. Rifleman. E-3, Lance Corporal.”

  “A real blood and guts Marine?” Simi asked, rhetorically.

  “Yup,” Mason answered. “At one time. Was in Iraq twice.”

  “And my God, and you’re here with us!” Simi seemed astonished.

  Mason laughed. “You never know how life will turn,” he said. “Come here.” He patted his lap.

  “You’re not going to hit me!?” Simi asked.

  “It’s me, for crying out loud!” Mason said. “Just don’t knock my hat off, ‘cause that’s sacrilegious.”

  Simi smiled and jumped on his lap.

  Mason gave her a big hug.

  Simi kissed him on the cheek, jumped off his lap and walked around the deck in a daze. “An Afghan and a Marine both here? Oshie!”

  Oceanna laughed and clapped her hands together in joy.

  “Hell,” Mason said. “Ditch our ol’ teasing, if you can. Marines can’t help it! They train us to eat any bullets we don’t shoot, so the enemy doesn’t get them. We fight over table scraps. We growl at each other, too. And the bawdy sex talk is just primal. We need to reach deep to do what we do, and that’s where it is! Sometimes we forget that we’re supposed to be the strong who defend the weak. But, yeah—we can also be friendly. If we get some wine and cheese.”

  Simi, quick, brought him more wine and cheese.

  “Simi, will you come sit on my lap again for a second?” Hila asked.

  Simi did.

  “Osh, will you take some video of us on my phone?” Hila asked.

  “Okay.” She accepted Hila’s phone from her. “Why?”

  “I’m sending them to my folks, back home,” Hila said with a curious smile.

  * * *

  A crowd stood around the doorway to Asfand’s and Wajia’s home.

  “It was Nathan Lane!” Wajia told them.

  “It was America!” Asfand said angrily.

  A man in front turned to whomever was beside him. “I think it was the ‘panties,’” he said. “They have that in the west, and it makes men crazy—”

  “It’s true! I saw it on T.V.,” another said.

  The man turned back to Asfand. “Do you have ‘panties’? Where can I get some?”

  CHAPTER

  9

  Oceanna woke in the morning, in the queen sized bed that also cradled Simi. She got up and walked through the suite. Mason was asleep on the couch wearing only his jockey shorts, with one leg up on the back of the couch. His pillow was on the floor nearby.

  Oceanna shook her head and smiled, went back to her luggage, her one bag, for some bathroom supplies. The shower was delicious. In the marble stall, she sang a few bars of “O Sole Mio” in Italian out of a sense of obligation. In English:

  But another sun,

  That’s brighter still

  It’s my own sun

  That’s in your face …

 

  Simi woke and looked around. Wrapping a sheet around herself, she poured through her one bag for some bathroom supplies and crept through the suite.

  Mason had his hat on already, was sitting up on the couch with his blanket draped over him, turning on the T.V. “Morning. Looking for some news.”

  He looked at Simi curiously.

  Simi turned red. “Good morning.”

  “You’re blushing?” Mason asked.

  She blushed even more, wrapped her sheet tighter around her and ducked into Oceanna’s bathroom.

  “It sounds like someone’s dying in here,” Simi said.

  “Only if you listen long enough,” Oceanna said. “But the acoustics are great.”

  Simi sat her things on the counter and lifted her sheet enough to sit on the toilet.

  Oceanna shut off the water. She had a towel draped over the shower stall and pulled it in to dry herself.

  “I’ll be out of here in a second, but I had to pee,” Simi said.

  “No problem,” Oceanna said. “I used to be married.”

  Mel’s Drive-in was kitty-corner across from the Marriott Marquis on 4th and Mission. The home-style ‘50s diner seemed to suit a lot of people, as the place was packed with everything from local bicyclists to the police.

  The three were sitting at the bar, because there were no open booths.

  Mason slopped steak and eggs down like he hadn’t eaten in a week. Occasionally he chewed, sipped some orange juice.

  Oceanna had a short stack with ham and a glass of milk.

  Simi had the golden brown Belgian waffle with berries and whipped cream, but she could only eat half of it. “It’s so much!”

  Mason laughed at her. “Small stomach,” he said.

  Mason’s cell phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket. “’Mornin’, Derie.” Pause. “We’re doing fine.” He held up the phone in front of his two friends there. “You two wanna say hi to Derie?”

  “Hi!” Simi and Oceanna said.

  Mason brought the phone back to his own ear. “We’re having breakfast at Mel’s Drive-in. No, I’m not spending any money. Much. Didn’t spend hardly any, yesterday. Oceanna bought the room, and then we were in a trans march, and we never got round to it. I thought we’d go buy a Rolls Royce this afternoon, though.”

  “I’m paying for that,” Simi said.

  “Oh. Simi’s paying for the Rolls. So I’ll get the trip to Bermuda?” Mason teased his wife. “No, I don’t know. This morning? The whole town seems to be putting on a party for the Pride event. Lot of stuff going. Could never do it all in one trip. Really, we should come next year. You wouldn’t believe this place. It’s the whole city.”

  Oceanna tapped Mason on the shoulder and indicated she wanted the phone. “This morning, we need to go over to City Hall and get the Pope to bless us,” she said into it. “He’s a real person.” She nodded to Simi and Mason, asking if they’d like to.

  They responded yes.

  “It’s a guy, over there. He dresses like the Pope and blesses people. A lot of gay or trans or different folks have trouble in life—family who demean them, et cetera—and I think he does a real service, helping to bring some closure to some feelings for a lot of people. The real Pope oughta do it, too, hopefully in time.”

  San Francisco was alive in celebration. The Civic Center Plaza’s large park-like grounds and center concourse were tailor made for mega-festivities. A band played in front of the City Hall steps; “house” music pounded the air for blocks. A hundred vendors sold everything from food to trinkets to clothes to rainbow colored Pride mementos.

  The whole area between City Hall and Fulton St.—really, with no actual boundaries—was full of, perhaps, a hundred thousand people celebrating life and the freedom to be themselves. No matter how anyone presented, no matter who they loved, people were granted the God-given right to be actual human beings and were treated with respect and acceptance.

  People were happy and free. Some lounged on the lawns. Some danced. Some played games with friends. Some shopped and ate and ran and laughed. Some were dressed like the other sex. Some were dressed like their own sex. Some were dressed in a way that was hard to tell. Some were not dressed at all, totally nude. Lovers stood or walked or danced or kissed whomever they wanted, with no disparagement.

  “I keep smelling marijuana around here,” Oceanna laughed. “We stick around long, we’re gonna have a great time.”

  Mason smiled as if to acknowledge her.

  “I see him over there,” Simi said, pointing to the Pope.

  “You think we should call Hila and see if she’d like to come?” Mason asked.

  “Sure,” Oceanna said.

  “Great,” Simi said.

  Mason dug his phone out and called her.

  They started walking toward the Pope.

  “She says she’s already here looking for us. Where are you?” Mason asked into the phone.

  Coordinating, the four of them met up at the pope for a blessing. It was still morning, but the
re was a line to wait for him.

  Finally, they got to the head of the line.

  Hila stepped up to the Pope and smiled.

  “Hila, how are you?” the Pope asked. “Good to see you again.”

  “Doing fine, fine,” Hila said, smiling. “How you doin’? But I need some blessing, for I have been a baaaaad girl in my life with more than a few sinful thoughts.”

  “You!? Aaah!” The Pope grinned at her. “Kneel before Zod!”

  Hila kneeled before the Pope.

  He laid his hand on her head. “Oh God! Please help this girl lay off the Strawberry Cheesecake, unless she gifts the church with some too next time she comes! And please help her to come more often because she probably doesn’t come nearly as often as she’d like!”

  Everyone laughed.

  “And forgive her of her sins, too, oh Father,” the Pope said more seriously. “As she repents before you even though she is Muslim and is not renouncing her faith, and I hope nobody minds that I’m doing this, either.”

  Hila playfully slapped the Pope’s leg for being a smart-ass.

  “And we beg you, too, please, Father,” the Pope said seriously,” Hila is one of the best people any of us could know. Please forgive those who have sinned against her, because I know there have been far too many.

  Hila teared, for it was true.

  “Rise, now, my daughter.”

  Hila rose before the Pope and he crossed her chest. “Go now in peace, for God is in your heart.”

  In tears, Hila stepped aside.

  Oceanna stepped up to the Pope.

  “My daughter, what can I do for you?”

  “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

  “Kneel, my daughter.”

  Oceanna did.

  The Pope put his hand on her head. “Father in heaven: This, your child, thinks she has sinned more than she has, for to stand up peacefully to oppression is not a sin even if it might feel so to a humble person. My child, you are forgiven for all your sins, and we pray for those who have sinned against you. Rise and be loved.”

  Oceanna teared, rose, and hugged the Pope who laughed. He crossed Oceanna over the chest. “Blessings to you, my daughter, for you are a good person.”

  Oceanna stood to the side near Hila.

  Mason stepped up to the Pope.

  “My son, what may I do for you?”

  “Well, I’m not Catholic, but I’d like you to bless me also.”

  “You are here with your friends?” the Pope asked.

  “Yes, these three,” Mason answered, indicating them.

  The Pope looked at them and back to Mason.

  “Can you remove your hat, please?”

  Mason removed his cowboy hat and stood humbly before the nice person.

  The Pope put his hand on Mason’s head. “Holy Father, I ask your special blessing for this kind man, a gift among many, for the good he does for others in his life. With his example, may it be that others consider his wisdom in their own life.”

  Mason put his hat back on.

  The Pope crossed Mason, as well. “Bless you, my son, for you are part of the good in this life. Go forth and know that God is with you.”

  “Thank you,” Mason said to him.

  Mason moved over to stand beside Hila and Oceanna.

  Simi held back and began to tear.

  Hila and Oceanna teared looking at her.

  Other people in line noticed, their compassion clear.

  The Pope waited patiently.

  “It’s okay, Simi,” Oceanna said. She nodded to Simi. “It’s okay.”

  Simi looked back to the Pope and slowly stepped in front of him.

  The Pope continued to wait.

  Simi said nothing, but began to cry, hiding her face in her hands, and slowly knelt in front of the Pope.

  People behind her in line teared along with her.

  The Pope looked at Simi, at her friends, and then back to Simi. He put his hand on her head and began to speak. “Holy Father who art in Heaven,” he said. “Hallowed be thy name. This young woman who kneels here before you asks for your forgiveness for her sins. Though she is too humble to ask for it, her need is great, so I ask on her behalf to soothe her soul for the wrongs she’s suffered in life.”

  Simi cried even harder, though still silently. Her fingers red, her hands pressed against her face. Tears smeared between her fingers.

  People in line cried with her, feeling her torment.

  Oceanna reached out and held Hila’s and Mason’s hand.

  “Reach into her soul,” the Pope continued, “and know her pain. See what she has suffered at the hands of people who knew not the severity of what they were doing, and see as well what she has suffered that was in her own being. Holy Father, we know not the path you set for us, but we know the joy of your presence when we find your way. Show her the light of your love. Show her the beauty in your heart. Share with her the peace that comes with finding herself, and help her know that friends are all around her.”

  Simi’s tears flowed freely over her face, behind shielding hands, but slowly, with effort, she lowered her hands to let the world see.

  This is Simi, and she is not ashamed.

  “Rise, my daughter.”

  Simi did. Her face was wet. Her mascara was smeared over her cheeks.

  The Pope crossed Simi over her chest. “Let the simple joy of love fill your heart, my daughter. Let freedom guide you. Feel the sun on your skin and the breeze in your hair. Feel the touch of your friends’ compassion. You have a pure heart. Embrace your own life, for God loves you. Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto. Sicut erat in principio et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. Amen.”

  Simi hugged the Pope, who hugged her back.

  Simi stepped away wiping tears from her eyes. “God, you’re good,” she said to the Pope, trying to compose herself. “Was that Latin?”

  “I hope so,” the Pope said with a smile.

  Simi walked to her friends. “My face is probably a wreck.”

  “No, it is not!” Hila said, reaching up to wipe the mascara smears off Simi’s cheek.

  “You’re beautiful,” Oceanna said.

  Mason put a hand on Simi’s back. “Girls!”

  Which brought a laugh.

  For the next two hours, the four of them roamed through the Pride festivities of the plaza, eating ice cream, gawking at nude pedestrians, enjoying themselves.

  “My God!” Mason said. “Look at those angels!”

  The Four Musketeers walked over near the center of things to see four men of impossibly perfect physiques, on covered stilts, in award-winning angel costumes. When they walked, the stilts gave them a slow, gigantic, angelic glide.

  “You see that, Hila?” Simi asked, rhetorically. She reached out and held Hila’s hand.

  Finally, Hila said, “You know, that’s it. I usually don’t do this, but today? If you all would be interested?”

  Hila reached into her purse for her phone.

  CHAPTER

  10

  The four of them walked into AT&T Park and took their seats in Section 108 on the first base side, down close to the field.

  “A Giants game!” Oceanna was flabbergasted.

  “Hila!” Simi said.

  “I don’t usually do this, but being in marketing does have an occasional perk. Pulled a string or two.”

  “Expensive strings?” Mason asked.

  “Favors,” Hila said. “But it’s okay. I’m due.”

  “I’ve never been to a baseball game before,” Simi said.

  “Then you’re in for a treat,” Hila said, “because this is the Giants: the best baseball team in the world.”

  “You work here,” Oceanna said.

  “Because I like them!”

  “I’ve seen baseball movies and do know the basics, but— This stadium is awesome,” Simi said. “The crowd!”

  “And the timing’s good. Game’s going to start in just a few minutes,”
Oceanna said.

  The field was just about prepped. The teams were gathering in the dugouts. Presentations were being made by dignitaries on the pitcher’s mound.

  “Is that the lady from El Rio last night?” Mason asked Hila.

  “Seems so,” Hila said.

  Simi was staring at the lady.

  Oceanna was staring at Simi.

  Simi waved at the lady, who turned around.

  “Friend of yours?” hat guy next to Hila asked.

  “We don’t really know her,” Hila said. “I’m Hila: Breakneck crossdresser and connoisseur of the arts.”

  “Don,” the man said. Marines, retired.”

  They shook hands.

  “And this slime ball beside me is Hank,” Don said.

  “Army, back in the day.” Hank reached across Don to shake Hila’s hand.

  “Hi, guys.” These are friends, here.” Hila introduced her friends to the men. “What were you in the service, guys?”

  “Gunny,” Don said.

  “Oh no! Maybe you two switch seats!” Oceanna teased from the other side of Mason. “Got to get that Marine farther away from me!”

  “I’ll take him,” said a man behind them. “I got a dog carrier out in the car. I’ll go get it.”

  “I was Navy,” Oceanna said, “and the Marines! Uh!”

  “I know what you mean,” the man behind said with a big smile. “I was Navy also. Ain’t no room on this earth for both Navy and Marines!”

  “Mason Winchester,” Mason said to the man behind. “U.S. Marines.”

  “Aw! No! Another one of you?” the man behind said. “We should never allow you guys to have sex.” He extended his hand to Mason for a shake. “Indigo,” he said. “Chief Petty Officer on the Bonhomme Richard, a hundred years ago. So I know how to carry a coffee cup.”

  “U.S. Air Force,” Hila said. “Interpreter.”

  “French, right?” Don asked.

  “Never mind him,” Hank said, to his left. “He’s green and don’t know nothin’.”

  Simi said nothing.

  “She’s U.S. Army,” Hila said, pointing to Simi.

  “Now or back when?” Hank asked.

  “Former,” Hila said.

  Oceanna got Simi’s attention. “Simi, wave. Be nice. There’s an ice cream in it for you later, if you’re nice.”

  Simi smiled and waved to the men.

  “She’s shy,” Hila said. “Had her machine gun eaten by one of you Marines once.”