Mary Elizabeth told me that the thing about Zen is that it makes you connected to everything in the world. You are part of the trees and the grass and the dogs. Things like that. She even explained how her tattoo symbolized this, but I can’t remember how. So, I guess Zen is a day like this when you are part of the air and remember things.
One thing I remember is that the kids used to play a game. What you would do is take a football or something, and one person would have it, and all the other kids would try to tackle that kid. And then whoever got the ball next would run around with it, and the kids would try to tackle him. This could go on for hours. I never really understood the point of this game, but my brother loved it. He didn’t like to run with the ball so much as he liked to tackle people. The kids called the game “smear the queer.” I didn’t really think about what that means until now.
Patrick told me the story about him and Brad, and now I understand why Patrick didn’t get angry at Brad at the homecoming dance for dancing with a girl. When they were both juniors, Patrick and Brad were at a party together with the rest of the popular kids. Patrick actually used to be popular before Sam bought him some good music.
Patrick and Brad both got pretty drunk at this party. Actually, Patrick said that Brad was pretending to be a lot drunker than he really was. They were sitting in the basement with some girl named Heather, and when she left to go to the bathroom, Brad and Patrick were left alone. Patrick said it was uncomfortable and exciting for both of them.
“You’re in Mr. Brosnahan’s class, right?”
“Have you ever gone to a Pink Floyd Laser Light Show?”
“Beer before liquor. Never sicker.”
When they ran out of small talk, they just looked at each other. And they ended up fooling around right there in the basement. Patrick said it was like the weight of the whole world left both their shoulders.
But Monday in school, Brad kept saying the same thing.
“Man, I was so wasted. I don’t remember a thing.”
He said it to everyone who was at the party. He said it a few times to the same people. He even said it to Patrick. Nobody saw Patrick and Brad fool around, but Brad kept saying it anyway. That Friday, there was another party. And this time, Patrick and Brad got stoned although Patrick said that Brad was pretending to be a lot more stoned than he really was. And they ended up fooling around again. And Monday in school, Brad did the same thing.
“Man, I was so wasted. I don’t remember a thing.”
This went on for seven months.
It got to a point where Brad was getting stoned or drunk before school. It’s not like he and Patrick were fooling around in school. They only fooled around at parties on Fridays, but Patrick said Brad couldn’t even look at him in the hall, let alone speak with him. And it was hard, too, because Patrick really liked Brad.
When summer came, Brad didn’t have to worry about school or anything, so his drinking and smoking got a lot worse. There was a big party at Patrick and Sam’s house with the less than popular crowd. Brad showed up, which caused quite a stir because he was popular, but Patrick kept a secret as to why Brad came to the party. When most people left, Brad and Patrick went into Patrick’s room.
They had sex for the first time that night.
I don’t want to go into detail about it because it’s pretty private stuff, but I will say that Brad assumed the role of the girl in terms of where you put things. I think that’s pretty important to tell you. When they were finished, Brad started to cry really hard. He had been drinking a lot. And getting really really stoned.
No matter what Patrick did, Brad kept crying. Brad wouldn’t even let Patrick hold him, which seems rather sad to me because if I have sex with someone, I would want to hold them.
Finally, Patrick just pulled up Brad’s pants, and said to him.
“Just pretend you’re passed out.”
Then, Patrick got dressed and walked around the house to go into the party from a different direction than his bedroom. He was also crying pretty bad, and he decided if anyone asked him, he would say his eyes were red from smoking pot. Finally, he shook himself out of it and walked into the main party room. He acted really drunk. He went to Sam. “Have you seen Brad?” Sam saw the look in Patrick’s eyes. Then, she spoke up to the party.
“Hey, has anyone seen Brad?”
Nobody at the party had, so a few people went to search for him. They finally found him in Patrick’s room… asleep.
Finally, Patrick called Brad’s parents because he was really worried about him. He didn’t tell them why, but he said that Brad was really sick at this party and needed to be taken home. Brad’s parents did come, and Brad’s father, along with some of the other boys including Patrick, carried Brad to the car.
Patrick doesn’t know if Brad was really asleep or not at that point, but if he wasn’t, it was a good acting job. Brad’s parents sent him to rehabilitation because Brad’s father didn’t want him to miss his chance at a football scholarship. Patrick didn’t see Brad for the rest of the summer.
Brad’s parents never did figure out why their son was getting stoned and drunk all the time. Neither did anybody else. Except the people who knew.
When the school year started, Brad avoided Patrick a lot. He never went to the same parties as Patrick or anything until a little over a month ago. That was the night he threw rocks at Patrick’s window and told Patrick that nobody could know, and Patrick understood. They only see each other now at night on golf courses and at parties like Bob’s where the people are quiet and understand these things.
I asked Patrick if he felt sad that he had to keep it a secret, and Patrick just said that he wasn’t sad because at least now, Brad doesn’t have to get drunk or stoned to make love.
Love always,
Charlie
November 8, 1991
Dear friend,
Bill gave me my first B in advanced English class for my paper on Peter Pan! To tell you the truth, I don’t know what I did differently from the other papers. He told me that my sense of language is improving along with my sentence structure. I think it’s great that I could be improving on these things without noticing. By the way, Bill gives me A’s on my report cards and letters to my parents. The grades on these papers are just between us.
I have decided that maybe I want to write when I grow up. I just don’t know what I would write.
I thought about maybe writing for magazines just so I could see an article that didn’t say things like I mentioned before. “As —- wiped the honey mustard off of her lips, she spoke to me about her third husband and the healing power of crystals.” But honestly, I think I would be a very bad reporter because I can’t imagine sitting across the table from a politician or a movie star and asking them questions. I think I would probably just ask for their autograph for my mom or something. I would probably get fired for doing this. So, I thought about maybe writing for a newspaper instead because I could ask regular people questions, but my sister says that newspapers always lie. I do not know if this is true, so I’ll just have to see when I get older.
I did start working for a fanzine called Punk Rocky. It’s this xerox magazine about punk rock and The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I don’t write for it, but I help out.
Mary Elizabeth is in charge of it, just like she is in charge of the local Rocky Horror Picture Show showings. Mary Elizabeth is a very interesting person because she has a tattoo that symbolizes Buddhism and a belly button ring and wears her hair to make somebody mad, but when she’s in charge of something, she acts like my dad when he comes home from a “long day.” She is a senior, and she says that my sister is a tease and a snob. I told her not to say anything like that about my sister again.