Trailer Trash

  “Uh . . .” Cody hadn’t ever thought of it in those terms before.

  “And my brother. Hell, the only reason he ain’t nailed every girl in the school is ’cause most of them have better taste than that. But even if he had, that’d be just fine, as far as everybody else is concerned, right? ‘Boys will be boys,’ and everybody just laughs about how they’re sowin’ their oats or whatever. Well who the hell do they think they’re sowin’ them with? Girls like me, that’s who!” She shook her head. Her chin trembled a bit, but she bit her lower lip and took a deep breath. “So guys like Logan and Brad and Brian are just doing what boys are supposed to do, but me? I’m a slut, just because I ain’t a total prude. Now, how come they get to do whatever they want, but I’m supposed to be a goddamn nun?”

  “I don’t know.” He was too busy trying to take it all in. He’d always felt a bit bad for Christine, because he knew her dad was no better than his. He’d always thought she should be able to do better. It had never occurred to him how big the double standard was. “It is kind of shitty, now that you mention it.”

  She sighed, looking out the bug-spattered windshield at the distant highway. “Well, I guess that’s how I feel about you and Nate, too. I mean, you guys are eighteen. You’re about ready to graduate. Everybody expects that after high school, people will pair up and settle down and get married. Guys like Brad and Brian will have to quit nailing everything that moves, and I have one year left before I have to make some guy put a ring on my finger just so I can start popping out babies, whether I want them or not. And here’s you and Nate, just minding your own business, not hurtin’ anybody. Just, I don’t know, being friends or being boyfriends or whatever you guys are. If one of you was a girl, nobody’d bat an eye. Hell, if you was both girls, people still wouldn’t mind. They’d just assume you were best friends. But since you’re both guys, and you’re clearly not out banging all the girls you can land, they decide it’s cool to jump you, nine on two. Like somehow that makes them so fucking tough.” She shook her head and smiled at him. “The truth is, they’re all just a bunch of goddamned douche bags, you know?”

  It was said so frankly, in such a matter-of-fact tone, that Cody was reminded of Logan, and he laughed. “They really are.” He opened the door, but stopped with one foot out. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “No problem. And Cody?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Tell Nate . . . Hell, I don’t know what. Just tell him I hope he’s back to school soon.”

  “I will.” Cody didn’t bother to tell her he was hoping the exact same thing.

  Nate’s father skipped work the next day. Nate heard him downstairs, pacing the kitchen, talking on the phone for what felt like hours at a time. Nate’s stomach grumbled angrily, wanting breakfast, but he stayed sequestered in his room, unable to face the confrontation waiting for him downstairs.

  Eventually, his dad called him down for lunch, and later for dinner, but he never sat with Nate to eat. The only time he spoke was to ask Nate for the names of the boys involved. Other than that, he barely even looked at Nate, and Nate returned to his room each time, hanging his head.

  His dad kept him home the next day too, and the day after that. Nate began to wonder if it was going to be like this from now on. It was like being in prison, only emerging from his room for meals. At least the physical pain from the beating was receding, the swelling in his face going down, and he hadn’t peed blood again since that first night.

  His body was healing, even if his heart wasn’t.

  On Thursday, Nate broke the silence.

  “Is anything going to happen?” He was at the table eating the Hamburger Helper his dad had put down in front of him. His dad was at the other end of the kitchen, washing the dishes and pointedly ignoring Nate. “You asked for the names of the boys who jumped us. Did you talk to them or anything?”

  His dad sighed, but didn’t turn to face him. “There isn’t much I can do. I’m not allowed to pursue it myself. I have to give it to one of the other officers, and in cases like this, it comes down to your word against theirs. And one of them has an uncle who works for the sheriff’s office.” He shook his head. “It’s complicated. But the short version is no, it’s being chalked up to boys being boys.”

  Nate considered that, staring at his dad’s back. “You think I deserve it anyway, don’t you? This is what I get for being gay?”

  “I don’t think you deserve it,” his dad said quietly. “But, like it or not, sometimes things like this happen when you insist on being different.”

  Nate didn’t ask anything else after that. He wasn’t sure he could stand to hear the answer.

  But on Friday, his father surprised him by coming into his room a bit after three. Nate had been lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to his copy of the tape he’d made Cody for Christmas. He sat up quickly, turning off the music. His dad sank heavily into the chair by Nate’s desk.

  “I’m sending you away.”

  That was it. One simple sentence dropped like a bombshell into the landscape of Nate’s life. “I don’t want to go.”

  “It isn’t open for debate. I’ve made up my mind.”

  “Where are you sending me? Home to Mom?”

  “No.” There was something about the way he said it. Something about the tightness in his shoulders, and his hands, clenched in his lap. Nate’s heart sank. He’d only had one stilted phone call with his mom since the night Greg had answered the phone, but he’d always assumed things would sort themselves once summer arrived and he went home for a visit.

  “You talked to Mom, right?”

  His dad’s head jerked in an awkward nod.

  “And?”

  His dad sighed, shaking his head. “There’s no reason for you to hear the things she said.”

  Nate swallowed, more hurt by that than he had been by the kicks he’d taken to his kidneys. “Was it that bad?”

  “Well . . .”

  Yes, it was that bad, apparently. Bad enough that even his father, who hated the thought of Nate’s homosexuality, didn’t want to repeat it. At least she wouldn’t expect him to call home every week now. He tried to tell himself he didn’t care.

  “Nate, this is for the best. It really is.”

  “For who? For you?”

  “For you. I’ve talked to your Aunt Cora.” Cora, his dad’s sister, who lived in Chicago. His dad had always jokingly called her a “pinko commie,” which had nothing whatsoever to do with actual communism. It was simply his dad’s way of saying Cora was a bleeding-heart liberal compared to him. “We’ve planned all along for you to go to Chicago after graduation. After what’s happened, we think it’s best if you go now. Cora’s pretty open-minded about this kind of thing. She’s been working all week to get you enrolled in school there. You’ll be able to start on Monday, and graduation won’t be a problem.”

  “Wow,” Nate said, his voice flat. “Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out, whether I like it or not.”

  “I’ve already booked you on a flight. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow—”

  “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave—”

  “You don’t want to leave Cody, I know.” His dad stood up and came to sit next to him on the bed. He put his hand between Nate’s shoulder blades. It was such a warm, comfortable gesture, a lump rose in Nate’s throat. “This isn’t punishment, Nate.”

  “It feels like punishment to me.”

  His dad nodded. “I can understand that, but that isn’t my intent, I promise.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “Nate, I know you think you love this boy—”

  “I do love him.”

  His dad sighed and put his face in his hands. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Nate’s heart sank. “What do you mean?”

  His dad sat up, squaring his shoulders, rubbing his hands over his head. For the first time, Nate noticed how thin his dad’s hair was on top. He noticed the wrinkles on his dad’s face
, and the gray whiskers in his mustache. It was as if he’d aged ten years overnight.

  Had Nate done that to him?

  “The thing is,” his dad said, his voice low and hoarse, “talking to your mom made me realize that maybe . . . well, maybe I overreacted.”

  It wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. Nate had been prepared for a fight, not for something that sounded like surrender. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I sat there, listening to the things she was saying—her and Greg both, because he was on the other line—she was talking about some kind of therapy, about camps she’s heard about, and Greg said no stinking faggot was going to live under his roof, and then your mom started talking about military school—”

  “Dad, no!”

  “—and all I could think was, how can she turn on you like that? You’re her son. She should take your side over Greg’s. She should know how much you’d hate military school. I wanted to tell her she was being a terrible mother, but then I realized I’d done the exact same thing. And so I hung up, and I called Cora.”

  Nate couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It hurt, finding out how his mom had reacted, but now his dad seemed to be having a change of heart? He was afraid to ask about that though, so he stuck to the facts at hand. “What did Cora say?”

  “She said she always suspected you were . . . like that. Working real estate in Chicago, she’s met all kinds of people. She has friends who are . . . well, who are like you, I guess. And so, I don’t know, Nate. Maybe it doesn’t matter that you’re . . .” He choked, as if he could hardly stand to say the word. “That you’re a homosexual.”

  Nate waited, his heart pounding, trying to figure out what this meant. “You mean, you’re not mad anymore?”

  “I am. A little. I don’t know. Maybe a lot. But . . .” He sighed again, shaking his head.

  “You’re disappointed.”

  “A bit. But you have to understand, Nate, it isn’t that I love you less. That’s what I realized after talking to your mother. It might take me a while to get used to the idea, but you’re my son. Nothing can change that.”

  The words brought a lump to Nate’s throat. “Really?”

  “I want you to be happy. That’s the only thing that matters, but I don’t see how this . . .” He stood up, holding out his hands as if to encompass Nate and his room and the entire situation in one gesture. “How can you ever be happy, knowing what people think? Knowing you can’t ever get married or have kids? I mean, look at what comes from hanging around with a boy like Cody! Maybe if you met the right girl—”

  “I don’t think that would matter. And none of this is Cody’s fault.”

  His dad sighed, his shoulders slumping. “That’s what Cora said.”

  Nate waited, unable to think of anything to say that would make the situation any better. “If you’re not mad, then why are you sending me away?”

  “Because this town is no place for somebody like you. You can’t live the life you want to live here. Maybe you really are gay, or maybe it’s a phase, or maybe you’ll meet a woman and realize what you’re feeling right now is just curiosity. But whatever happens, you need to be in a place where there are options. Where you don’t get beaten to a pulp just for being different.”

  In some dark corner of his heart, Nate knew his dad was right. He also knew arguing would get him nowhere. “What about Cody?”

  “I know this isn’t the way you wanted it to go, son, but I also know this: if what you have with that boy is real, it’ll survive. If you leaving town ends it, it wasn’t worth saving in the first place.”

  Okay. That made sense. It hurt, but it made sense. “Can I at least see him before I go?”

  “I’ll drive you over.”

  “He’ll be at work until eight.”

  “Then I’ll take you over at eight thirty. You can have twenty minutes.”

  It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was better than nothing.

  Cody spent the whole week trying to decide whether or not he should call Nate. On Wednesday afternoon, he decided it’d be safe enough. Nate’s dad was usually working at that time. But when Mr. Bradford answered, Cody panicked and hung up the phone.

  Each night, he stayed up a bit later, thinking Nate might call him after his dad had gone to bed, but he never did.

  What if this was it? It was easy enough for Nate to talk about them being together forever when he was naked in Cody’s bed, but now that it was out in the open, maybe he couldn’t handle it. Maybe he couldn’t stand to look in his dad’s face and tell him he loved another boy.

  When Nate didn’t pick him up before school on Friday, Cody’s heart sank. At first, he assumed Nate would be back at school, but had simply chosen not to give Cody a ride, but it didn’t take him long to figure out Nate was still missing.

  Not avoiding him, then, unless he was going so far out of his way to do it that he was ditching school completely.

  After school, Cody walked to the Tomahawk, imagining all kinds of scenarios where Nate suddenly went back to ignoring him and hanging with those assholes from the Grove. Knowing he was being an idiot didn’t stop the panic that began to fill his heart. He washed dishes that night feeling lonelier than he had in months, knowing Logan would never come to put the bowls on the high shelves, knowing Nate wouldn’t be waiting to drive him home at the end of the night.

  Business was slow, and Frank sent him home early. At eight thirty, he was sitting next to his mom on the couch, staring blankly at Falcon Crest, wondering if he’d at least hear from Nate over the weekend.

  Lights flashed across their front window, followed by the unmistakable sound of tires on gravel as a car pulled up outside.

  Cody glanced at his mom. She stared back at him, her expression saying, I’m not expecting anyone. How about you?

  Cody got up and peeked through the curtains.

  “It’s Nate and his dad.” Although so far, neither of them had moved to exit the vehicle. They were just sitting there, talking.

  Cody’s mom stood up and put her hands on her hips. “Does it look like he’s here as a cop?”

  “I don’t know.” But as he said it, Nate’s dad gestured toward the trailer, and Nate got out of the Jeep alone. “No. I think it’s only Nate coming in.”

  “Well, it was about time for me to get ready for work anyway.” She grabbed her cigarettes off the table and headed for her bedroom. “I’ll let you guys have a few minutes alone.”

  Cody might have been embarrassed if he wasn’t so inexplicably nervous. He opened the door before Nate knocked. “Hey.”

  Nate stopped on the porch, glancing quickly toward his father. “You have a minute?”

  “Of course.”

  Cody stepped back, his heart pounding. Nate followed him, closing the door behind him. Only then, with the door closed, did Nate turn and pull Cody into his arms.

  He was shaking, and Cody clung to him, standing on his toes, holding Nate as tight as he could, wondering who was comforting whom.

  “Are you okay?” Nate asked in his ear.

  “I’m fine. What about you?” Cody pulled back to study Nate’s face. The bruises were still visible, although they’d obviously faded. There was no swelling, but the cuts on his eyebrows and lip hadn’t healed yet. Worse than the bruises was the look in Nate’s eyes.

  “I have to tell you something.”

  Cody’s heart sank. His knees suddenly felt weak. He took a step backward, as if that could change whatever it was Nate was about to say. It was bad. He knew that much already. “What is it?”

  Nate didn’t let him retreat. He followed him, stepping close and gripping Cody’s arms. “I know I told you I wouldn’t go anywhere without you. I know I said I wouldn’t ever leave you again, but . . .” His voice trembled, and Cody found himself wanting to pull away, not wanting to hear whatever it was Nate had to say. “I’m going to have to break that promise.”

  “No—”

  “My dad’s sending me to Chicago.”
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  The words hung there between them while the only good thing in his life fell apart. “No. You can’t go! You promised. You said—”

  “I know! But it’s only for now, Cody. It’s only temporary—”

  “I knew you’d do this! I knew you’d take the easy way out and leave me! I knew it!” Some part of his brain knew he was being unfair, but he didn’t care. All he knew was that Nate was breaking his heart after promising not to, and Cody tried to push him away, fighting to keep from crying. “I knew I’d end up here alone in the end. I never should have believed you! I never should have trusted anything you said!”

  Nate refused to let him go. He held on to Cody’s arms, and Cody’s rage seemed to wash away as quickly as it had come. It wasn’t Nate’s fault. He knew that, and he could tell by the tears welling up in Nate’s eyes that he was grieving too.

  “It doesn’t change anything,” Nate said, his voice hoarse. “All it means is, we arrive in Iowa City separately instead of together.”

  Cody shook his head. “But . . . I can’t stay here without you. I can’t . . .” He couldn’t manage more than that without bursting into tears, and he didn’t want to do that.

  “Listen to me. Please? I only have a few minutes.”

  Cody nodded, letting Nate pull him close again. Letting himself be wrapped up in the familiar warmth of Nate’s embrace.

  “I don’t know what will happen when I get to Chicago. My aunt’s already enrolled me in school so I can still get my diploma. And you want to finish high school too. It’d be silly to quit now, with graduation only two months away.”

  Cody nodded. “May thirtieth.” He said it into Nate’s shoulder, his voice barely a whisper, but Nate seemed to have heard him, because he chuckled.

  “Exactly. That means June first is a little soon, but July first seems doable.”

  Cody pulled back a bit so he could look up into Nate’s face. “For what?”

  “For us to meet in Iowa City.”

  Cody blinked, torn between wanting to believe and not wanting to have his heart broken all over again.