twenty

“Jackson Pedersen?”

I jump to my feet, bumping my chair and scraping it across the floor with a loud grating sound that makes everyone stare in my direction. Six sets of eyes are now focused on me from the front of the room. None of them look exactly welcoming, and I’m starting to think that I should be somewhere else.

“It’s all right, Jack. Just take a breath and tell them what you want to do. I’m right here.” Mrs. Lee speaks in a hushed voice as she touches my arm gently. The council members are still staring impatiently as they wait for me to find the words that I practiced endlessly last night with Ryan.

“You’ve got this. You sounded great yesterday. Just do it the way you did for my mom and me,” Ryan whispers.

“I can’t remember how I did it. I can’t remember anything,” I whisper back, looking behind me to where he’s sitting in his wheelchair.

“We can’t hear you, Mr. Pedersen,” the man in the middle of the group says, sounding like those teachers I’ve had who made it their mission in life to make me feel small. I look toward the front guiltily, as if I’ve been caught passing notes during class. Notes! Where are my notes?

“I don’t have my notes!” I hiss snake-like while patting down all of my pockets in a blind panic. Ryan reaches forward and hands me a piece of paper.

“I made a copy just in case. Not that you need them. You can probably recite this in your sleep. You’ll be fine. Just go for it.”

“Mr. Pedersen!” The middle guy is now starting to look pissed, like I’m holding up the show that he thinks must go on. Obviously, there are so many terribly important issues to discuss in the massive town of Thompson Mills that there isn’t time to wait for me to get my act together.

Mrs. Lee gives me a sympathetic look and nods encouragingly. “Remember to address him as Mr. Mayor. It makes him feel important,” she whispers, smiling. Mr. Mayor is actually Mr. Greenman who runs the local convenience store when he isn’t pretending to run the town. He’s the kind of storekeeper that assumes every kid is in there to shoplift. He makes us leave our backpacks at the front and has surveillance cameras everywhere and then has a staff person whose only job is to follow kids around just in case someone has the sudden urge to steal a pack of gum. What he doesn’t know is that this only makes kids around here even more determined to rip him off just to prove they can outsmart the system.

I take the kind of breath needed to satisfy Coach Cody before he makes me dive to the bottom of the pool and then stand up straight, doing my best to hold on to the paper without trembling. I clear my throat and try to project my shaky voice. Why didn’t they give me a mic?

“Mr. Mayor and members of council, I am here today to present a proposal for the creation of a Thompson Mills Pride Parade.”

“A what?” Mr. Mayor looks at me, deep lines furrowing his forehead. I don’t know if he didn’t hear me or didn’t understand me.

“A Pride parade.” I say it more loudly, enunciating each word carefully. He still looks confused.

“Please explain further,” he says.

“I…we…” I gesture toward Ryan and Mrs. Lee, “want to put together a Pride parade here in town this June, near the end of the month to give us time to prepare. We are asking that Main Street be closed for one hour on the date that we all agree to and also for a permit to hold a rally on the steps of the Town Hall.” I’m trying to speak slowly enough that I’m understood, but at the same time fast enough to remember all of the words, so I don’t have to read them.

“How many people would you expect to attend such an event?” the mayor asks, looking skeptical now instead of confused.

“I don’t actually know. Probably not very many as this would be the first year here. We would advertise on social media and hopefully have an idea before the date.”

“A Pride parade. A Gay Pride parade is what you are referring to?” Another council person is speaking now, and I look at her. I can’t tell from her expression what she thinks of the idea.

“For the most part, yes. June is Gay Pride month. Many towns and cities in this area have parades in June and July.” Many might be an exaggeration, but there are definitely a few. I have the names written down on my paper just in case they ask.

“We also want to incorporate Disability Pride into the day,” Ryan speaks up from behind me. He wheels his chair out and into the aisle so they can see him better. A couple of councilors nod and smile. One even waves. Ryan is pretty well-known in our town, the combination of bright orange hair and wheelchair making him more visible than most people.

“Disability Pride? I don’t think I’ve heard of that.” The mayor purses his lips, as if we must be making it up if he hasn’t heard of it.

“Pride is about acceptance. Accepting yourself and everyone around you. Pride parades celebrate everything that makes us different and everything that makes us the same.” Mrs. Lee stands up as she speaks. Her voice commands the whole room and all of the councilors look at her like well-behaved school kids afraid to piss off the principal.

“All preparations and materials required will be coordinated through the high school, so we aren’t asking for any funding at this time. We are simply seeking the cooperation of this council and the option of a brief closure of Main Street.”

“I’m not sure what purpose there would be to such an event here.” The mayor puts a slight emphasis on the word here.

“Why not here? Is there some reason Thompson Mills doesn’t want to recognize Pride Month?” The words come shooting out of my mouth, flinging toward the row of faces with a force that surprises everyone, especially me.

“I wasn’t aware that we had…a community that would be interested,” the mayor says, tiptoeing around my question.

“Is that code for you trying to say you weren’t aware that we have any gay people here? Well, I’m gay. Mrs. Lee’s son, Benjamin, is gay. And who knows how many other people there are here who are afraid to admit it because this town makes it impossible to be different. After what happened to Benjamin Lee, we need to do something to let people know that Thompson Mills has some hope for the future. That we can have a town that is safe for anyone and everyone to live in.” I’m improvising, and I can’t keep track of my own words. I can feel my face warming up, so I sit down quickly before they notice my flushed cheeks.

“Thompson Mills has an excellent safety record. A very low crime rate,” Mr. Mayor says pompously. A couple of councilors nod in agreement. One woman closes her eyes for a second and just shakes her head.

“That isn’t what he’s saying,” she says, looking at him and then over at me. “Is it?”

“No,” I say quietly, shaking my head.

“Mr. Pedersen isn’t talking about crime, although recent events have made it clear to me that issues in this town have escalated. I believe, and please feel free to correct me, that Mr. Pedersen is referring to feeling safe from intolerance. Wanting to live in a town where everyone is accepted for who they are as individuals. Is that close?” She looks at me again.

“Yes.”

The mayor glares at the council woman. She might be the mother of one of the kids on my old soccer team, but I’m not totally sure.

“Recent events, as you call them, would make it seem that this isn’t the time for this sort of thing. The atmosphere is not really one of…” He hesitates.

“Acceptance? Tolerance? Basic respect?” Mrs. Lee punches each word out into the room. “I would think that recent events—a polite way of saying that my son was injured in what was most likely a deliberate attempt to frighten him because he’s gay—would be exactly the reason that this parade is desperately needed. The atmosphere needs to be changed.”

“We will take your request under advisement and get back to you shortly with a decision. Thank you for your presentation,” the mayor says abruptly, sounding extremely annoyed and obviously telling us to get the hell out. We are supposed to thank the council for their time before leaving, but I don’t really see what I have to thank them for. Obviously, Mrs. Lee and Ryan agree because we all head out in silence.

Once we get downstairs and out onto the sidewalk, I look up at the building.

“Do you think there’s a chance?” I ask Mrs. Lee.

“I think there’s every chance. They actually can’t deny the right to a peaceful assembly, so no matter what happens here, we can figure out a way to have a gathering. The question will be whether or not they will allow the road closure and use of the Town Hall grounds. Also, whether or not they will officially endorse the parade as a town function.”

“I’m not sure what that last part means.”

“Well, they can allow the parade but distance themselves from it. I read of that happening in other places. The local government chooses not to include the event on the official town calendar, for example, and in some cases even takes out an ad making it clear that it does not support the function. It’s a way of meeting basic rights requirements without actually having to be supportive. I would imagine that would be the route chosen by Mr. Mayor Greenman.” Mrs. Lee drips puddles of sarcasm down onto each word.

“It sounds like bullshit to me,” Ryan says.

“Ryan!” I point at Mrs. Lee, the vice principal of our school. He looks up at her and grins.

“Oops. Sorry about that. Please don’t tell my mom I just did that. She’d be less than impressed, even though I was just saying it like it is. By the way, she’s all over helping with this. She said she’d get her school involved with making posters and things like that.”

“Isn’t she afraid that parents will get pissed if little kids are making posters for a bunch of gay people?” I ask.

“No. She said it fits with something called the ‘social justice’ curriculum. She also doesn’t give a shi…” He stops and smiles at Mrs. Lee. “Doesn’t care what parents think when it comes to something she believes in, like this.”

“You did a wonderful job, Jackson.”

“I’m not so sure about that. I forgot some things. And I was supposed to say LGBTQ+ but I just kept using gay.”

“Greenman was having enough trouble with the word gay. He would have passed out if he’d had to try to figure out what the rest of it means.”

Mrs. Lee smiles at Ryan and turns to me. “You spoke very well, quite impassioned. I should have filmed it for Benjamin. He is so excited you’re doing this,” Mrs. Lee says.

“Thanks, but I don’t think it was video-worthy. You did more than I did.”

“Well, I disagree on both points. I’m proud of you, and Benjamin will be proud too, when I tell him about it. I’m going to do that right now, if you’ll both excuse me.”

“Thanks for coming with us. It really helped,” I tell her.

“You are most welcome, but I think you would have been just fine on your own. Good night, boys. You are quite remarkable young men. I’m glad Benjamin is friends with you both.”

Friends. Thanks to Shawn, Asshole of the Century, we didn’t get a chance to see if we could turn it into something more than that. We didn’t even finish our first date.

We watch her walk off and then head home ourselves. I feel like we should be talking about what just went down, but I can’t find any more words. I’m drained, as if I just swam a marathon with Cody yelling at me the whole time.

“So, how does it feel?” Ryan asks, breaking several minutes of silence.

“I feel tired,” I answer, sighing a little for emphasis.

“That’s not what I meant. I mean, how does it feel to officially stand there in an official meeting with official-looking people staring at you and officially come out.”

“It feels…very official.”

He laughs. “But seriously, are you okay?”

“Actually, I’m good. I mean, it’s not like everyone didn’t already know.”

“It’s still different to actually come out and say it.”

“Come out and say it?” I grin at him and he laughs again.

“I guess that’s exactly what you did.”

I stop walking and just stand there. I can see the bridge at the end of the street, looking tired and worn but still proudly guarding the river the way it’s done for so long that no one can remember a time that it wasn’t standing there. The water is excited today, just enough of a breeze floating in that I can see movement in the late afternoon sun, little sparks of light reflecting off the gentle waves. The birds drift in and out of the trees, filling the air with their version of singing as the wildflowers dance cheerfully, happy to be back in full bloom again.

It looks the same as it always has. Everything does.

But nothing is ever going to be the same again.

Because I just made it official.

I’m gay.

And I don’t care what the council decides.

I’m going to make a rainbow parade.