me as I had logically drawn from the 5 second incident. The definition intended for the word was in fact, a homosexual man. The connotation intended for the word was a hissing snake staring into the eyes of a mongoose. The boy that said the word had instantaneously hated me as if we had known each other for years. I know for certain that I had never laid eyes on that kid and I certainly never spoke with him. He hated me for the very simple fact that I was gay. No logic was necessary for the reason.
My calculation hadn’t made me feel better by any means at all. When I snapped out of my trance, I had realized that the bus hadn’t even begun to move. It was as if I had broken the sound barrier and when I stopped moving, sound and vision finally caught up and surrounded me. Faye was still talking about her teachers when an older boy got onto the bus. He stuck out his hands and slapped every seat he passed like he was a celebrity high-fiveing his fans. He finally sat down in the back as the collision of his body hitting the seat made an audible smack. Apparently he was the last to get on the bus as it finally began to rev to a start and carry us home. The superstar boy in the back cupped his hands together and shouted “freshman suck” which began a chant that lasted for at least 2 minutes. My blood began to boil as the chanting continued. It was the sort of hypocrisy you saw when older people hated young kids, only with a shorter interval of time to separate the new from the old.
With some form of miracle, I learned that our bus stop was third and only about 5 minutes from school. Once we were released, the bus driver nodded as if she was a taxi driver who decided to give me a free ride. I looked at her like a wolf in a sheep’s façade. She was just like the rest of them. She had probably seen and will see much worse than she had today, and she still wouldn’t do anything about it then either. That much I knew for certain.
I walked in back of Faye and exited the bus with haste. A few other friends of ours also got off of the bus, such as Sandy from my Spanish class and our childhood friend Megan. Her nickname was Doug because on a 6th grade class trip, we all gave ourselves transgendered nicknames as an inside-joke directed toward the teachers. Faye went by Carl, Megan went by Doug, and I went by Angelica. For some unknown reason, only Doug’s nickname lasted up until now. Doug lived right on the corner of our bus-stop and I envied her for that; I had to walk about 3 blocks to get there and Faye walked about 2. Doug and Sandy stayed behind me and Faye. I knew she was just burning like a freshly lit match to ask me what was bothering me. My very core shook as I decided to blurt it out.
“I was walking in the hall today and this kid just shouted “get a haircut you faggot.”” Faye’s gasp seemed loud enough to shatter a crystal wineglass.
“Who the hell is he to tell you to get a haircut? He’s probably just a closet cased skinhead with like, a shrine to Hitler or something. Don’t worry about it. ”I mulled the words that Faye said over in my head and then had a conversation with myself again. He wasn’t a skin head. In fact he had brown hair and light skin. His clothes were not of the militant persuasion at all. If his demeanor had been kind, I wouldn’t find it strange at all if he was walking with us to his own safe haven.
Faye’s description of his inner being was spot on and I had no doubt about that. But her outer description was short sighted and unfortunately incorrect. He looked like he could have been me. There was no distinctive look to him at all; just a face among so many people walking in a crowd. His face was only identified by the snickering disposition it held; like a cop who finally caught his craftiest adversary. He hadn’t shot me in the heart, but more like a main artery that had been bleeding since it all happened. Sandy must have heard the elicited gasp and semi-jogged over to find the cause.
“What happened?” She asked the question innocently enough but I couldn’t help the feeling that there was a hint of malice there. It was the kind of unknown malevolence that humans inflicted upon each other with reckless curiosity.
“I stepped in gum,” Faye answered quickly. Sandy had either bought the lie or understood the need to let it go and moved on with other interests.
“So how are your guy’s teachers? I have a couple of duds already.” Faye listed off her teachers and their good and bad qualities. Human evaluation was a luxury she was built with. Suddenly it was my turn to speak as Sandy directed the question toward me.
“I have several cool teachers. My math teacher is kind of a fail, but all of my other teachers are pretty good.” My mind flashed with the sudden thought of Mrs. Carlisle. “I do have a pretty good English teacher though. She treats us like we are adults and doesn’t talk down to us.”
For a split second I forgot the pain I had endured from the moment in the hallway and remembered the good things that happened today. Mrs. Stout was a nice and interesting woman, and so was Lauren, the girl I met in Civics class. Soon after my reminiscing, the parted waters crashed back down on me and I was reminded of the hallway. Would it ever stop playing back in my head? I wanted to clean my memory the way you would clean a CD to stop it from repeating.
As Sandy went into her house and closed the door behind her, Faye and I walked in a comfortable silence. She didn’t expect me to speak and I didn’t really want her to. When we finally reached the bottom of the hill where we parted ways, she told me she would see me tomorrow and not to let what had happened get to me. I lied and told her I wouldn’t. It had already got to me and it was slowly eating away at my psyche like termites; boring holes and tunnels into my woodwork which would eventually lead to my erosion to dust.
Chapter 4
Walking down the road I’d seen all of my familiar faces. There was a former marine with a very happy family of kids. He would often take them on bike rides with his entrusted Husky. Then there came the people who were only out of their home if they were primping and polishing any imperfections that their lawn might have grown. Finally, we had the nice neighbors that lived across the street from us. They cut the grass in the lot next to ours. Their kids were often outside playing in the empty yard while I walked home from school. Our neighbor had recently passed away from cancer after being in a Veteran’s hospital for months. His house was abandoned and left to rot while in the ownership of his sister that lived far away. Why she didn’t tear down the dilapidated house and sell the lot was lost on me.
As I finally reached my driveway, I could see and hear my dog wagging and barking at the door. Sometimes she would run to the screen door so viciously that she would force it open. Trixy was only a Maltese Dachshund but like all small dogs, she was as irritating as a squeaky wheel traveling 50 miles an hour. I walked into the house and she jumped onto the back of a reclining chair where she could be near eye level with me. I ran my fingers through the hair on her head and ruffled it as she tried to sniff my hand. My mother came around the corner and greeted me elatedly. We had been as close as twins since I could ever remember. My sister Leona was also home with her computer on her lap and her boyfriend next to her watching TV. Leona had just graduated from Tomliw the year before I entered it. She was 5 years older than me and she never let me forget it.
“How was your first day bud?” I tossed my book bag onto the ground near the chair and then plopped down into it.
“It’s not bad at all. I made a new friend and I have some pretty decent teachers.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. After all, I really did meet Lauren, and I really didn’t mind my teachers that much. It was the parts I left out that had been misleading. Why would I ever even consider telling anybody in my family about what happened in the hall? So they could think that I was in danger and worry about me? It was nothing I couldn’t handle and it would only upset my family.
“Did you get lost with your big backpack?”
“Shut uppp.” I whined like a kindergartener. “My bag isn’t even that big Leona. In fact a lot of kids carry them so they don’t have to keep going to their lockers.”
“Yeah.
