I am about to back my Honda out of the school parking lot when my cell phone rings. “Hey, Tommy, it’s me—Albert. Can you come over?”
Momentarily stunned by the unexpected call, I ask, “Where are you?”
“At my house—I really need to talk to you.”
The urgency in Albert’s voice alerts me that something has happened. “I’m on my way to work.”
“Please come—I need to talk to someone.”
Hesitating, I wonder what could’ve happened to make Albert contact me. It’s been weeks since I gave him my phone number that day at the hospital. When Albert pleads with me again, I finally agree, asking him for his address.
Next, I call Rick, the manager, at the Rialto. I make up a story about having to pick up my little sister at school, that she’s sick and there’s no one to watch her at home. Rick gets hysterical, repeating how Tuesday is bargain night and it’s one of our busiest nights. He finally chills out when I suggest that he call Josh, who has the day off. As we hang up, I can tell he’s still not pleased by my sudden absence.
It turns out that Albert lives at the Country Club Estates, which are on the south side of Laguna. Although I’ve never been to the Country Club before, I know that Ankiza’s ex-boyfriend, Hunter, lives there. I never imagined a Latino family living at the Country Club, since it’s made up of mostly rich white families. Most people think we’re only the gardeners or the cooks. That’s why I really want to go to San Francisco State and get a degree. Break all the damn stereotypes.
As I pull up to the gated entry, the watchman asks for my name. After he checks me off his list, he gives me instructions on how to get to Manzanita Court. I circle the golf course until I find Albert’s home, which almost takes up an entire block. I thought Maya’s house was fancy, but this one looks like a Spanish hacienda with its red-tile roof and lushly landscaped front courtyard. Parking the car, I enter through the wrought-iron gates, admiring the large fountain and terraced garden.
The moment I ring the doorbell, Albert appears in the arched doorway. There are dark circles under his eyes and he seems edgy. “Thanks for coming,” he says, motioning for me to go inside. As I follow him through the hallway, I catch a glimpse of a huge swimming pool in the backyard, surrounded by rosebushes and fruit trees. We go into a room which appears to be the den. The walls are lined with bookshelves and there is a fireplace in the corner. “Have a seat,” Albert says, reaching for the remote to shut off the small flat screen TV. Gazing around the room, my eyes rest on a large oil painting of a pristine sailboat perched on ocean waves. “That’s a scene from the Catalina Islands—Dad likes to sail.”
“Oh, yeah,” I say, realizing I’ve never once been on a boat, let alone on an island.
“My parents found out,” Albert suddenly blurts out. Turning to gaze into his deep-set eyes, I wait for him to continue. “They were waiting for me when I walked in the door last night. Mom found a letter in my room that I had written to this guy in Tracy. She was hysterical, Dad too. They both screamed at me, then all they did was argue about it. Mom blamed Dad, saying it was his fault, that running the company had always been more important than his son, and that he was never home. Dad started accusing Mom of caring more about shopping and spending money. That’s when I couldn’t take it any longer, so I locked myself in my room. Only they came after me, pounding on the door like crazy, but I refused to open it. Mom insisted she was calling her therapist tomorrow, that I needed psychological help.” Albert pauses, his face flushed with anger. “I can’t stand them,” he finally continues. “I hate them both.”
In an instant, I’m taken back to that awful night when my parents found out the truth. I can still hear Dad’s ugly words, “¡Desgraciado! I won’t have a joto in my house.” I’d gone to stay at Maya’s that night and for the longest time I hated Dad. Not my mom, she always stood by me.
Trying to console Albert, I tell him, “I know this hurts like hell, but at least it’s out in the open now.”
“How did your parents find out?”
“It’s a long story, but it was one of the worst moments of my life.”
“Nothing could be worse than last night,” Albert whispers.
“Oh, yeah? How about trying to kill yourself.”
Shocked by my sudden confession, Albert jerks his head up. Our eyes meet and I feel as if he is about to drown and only I can save him. Inhaling slowly, I recount the entire day leading up to my suicide attempt. I describe the days that followed and how I ended up going from the hospital to Maya’s house.
When I’m finished, Albert says, “Maybe that’s what I should do—kill myself.”
“That’s not the answer, Albert.”
“Then what am I supposed to do? Pretend everything is okay?”
Shaking my head, I say, “Try to talk to your parents. Be honest with them. If it hadn’t been for my mom, I don’t know how I would’ve done it. What about your older sister? Can you talk to her?”
“No, she’s too busy at college. As for my parents, all they care about is themselves. Mom’s a shopaholic and if Dad’s not at the office, he’s golfing. My parents don’t give a damn about my feelings.” Albert’s voice is hoarse and he bows his head to hide the tears.
“I thought my parents didn’t care about me either. But I found out that it was just as hard for them to accept that I was gay, that they had to go through their own coming out. Now my Dad finally treats me like a human being.”
There is a moment of silence, then Albert mutters, “I don’t know what I’m going to do—I know Mom’s going to insist I see a shrink. Knowing Dad, if I don’t do what they say, he’ll cut off my allowance and take my credit cards away. Who knows? Maybe it’s best to pretend, go along with their sick farce.”
“Why don’t you come to our next GSA meeting? It’s this Thursday. You know our advisor, Mr. Miller.” I’m suddenly acutely aware of the importance of our club. Maybe if there had been a Gay Straight Alliance Club at Roosevelt back then, I wouldn’t have tried to take my life.
“You’ve gotta be kidding?” Albert snickers.
“What would be so wrong with that?”
“Then for sure everyone at school would know I’m gay. It’s bad enough they’ve all been gossiping about me. No, I couldn’t do that.”
I feel like grabbing Albert by the shoulders and shaking the denial out of him. Can’t he see that if anyone understands his fear of rejection, it’s me? My face burning, I lean forward. “Listen to me, Albert. I used to be ashamed of who I was. I felt dirty and ugly inside until I came out. Now I’m finally free and I’m proud to be who I really am. No more lies, no more pretending, that’s what it’s all about, Albert. It’s about what you think of yourself, not what others think.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t. I can’t go to that meeting.”
Although I’m disappointed by Albert’s reaction, I remember how Ms. Martínez said I can’t make him come out, that Albert has to want to do it himself.
“Listen, you better go. Mom’s due any moment. She thinks I went to school today, so I have to pretend I just got home.”
“Okay, but think about what I said. The club meeting is on Thursday.”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” Albert repeats, as I stand up to leave.