Stormy Weather
Written by Nathaniel J. Ryan. Art by Justin B. Jones
Snow poured into Brooklyn covering every street corner in white. Children sat eagerly by their windowsills waiting for the first snow of Christmas to let up. They’d go out into the street and make snow angels and have snowball fights. The adults, however, cursed the first sight of the flurries. Hurriedly they grabbed their salt and shovels, donned their winter boots, and went to work.
Justin lay next to Maxwell. Their encounter had been extended due to the weather. A Grindr hookup had become a genuine date. Justin didn’t think it right to let Maxwell brave the cold and snow at midnight. When they woke up the next morning it was still snowing with no sign of letting up. They both decided to make the best of the situation. The two men made breakfast, watched ‘Wendy’, and actually talked. Maxwell had a degree in Anthropology from Boston University. He was the oldest of three and a great chess player. The pair played four times that day. After the fifth Justin swore he’d never play chess with Max again while noting to himself that he was happy for the snow fall. As two o’clock approached the snow started to let up. Justin put on a movie to signal the end of their date. By five the snow storm had passed.
Dressed in long coats, boots, long johns, and jeans Justin and Max left the safety of Justin’s apartment. Justin hadn’t planned to go out but he was ready to have his own space. They walked toward the number two train carelessly enjoying the other’s company. At the entrance to the train they hugged and said their goodbyes. Justin turned in the opposite direction and walked past a group of men.
“Faggot.”
The word landed on Justin like a ton of bricks. Justin stood paralyzed. The winter wind stung his face as his eyes began to water. He thought he had gotten past this.
Justin, Omar, Cedric, and Tyrell stood in a circle, toes touching. Tyrell announced loud and clear “engine engine number nine going down Chicago line if my train go off the track do you want your money back?”
The build up for this game of Manhunt was intense. Already they players began strategizing what they would do if they were “it”. At the final round Justin was left to count to ten while everyone went to hide. At ages twelve and thirteen there were not too many places to hide. Rules had been set by adults: don’t cross the street and don’t go around the block. Tyrell was sixteen but had to repeat a grade twice and was allowed to play with the others as long as he followed the rules. The boys scattered in various directions while Justin was left to count.
“... 8… 9... 10. Here I come!” He turned away from the tree and began his search.
The searching was the worst part of being “it”. He found Omar pretty quickly. Omar, pudgy and slow, always hid in the same places. With Omar now a part of the team they continued their search. Some time had passed by with no luck. Omar got the idea that maybe someone had broken the rules and crossed the street. He crossed the street and immediately spotted Cedric under a car. Cedric, short and skinny, would have gone undetected had it not been for Omar. The trio began to search for Tyrell.
Tyrell, tall and cocky, must have gotten bored waiting to be found. He had come out of his hiding spot and stood out in the open at the end of the block waiting for his friends to come and try to catch him. Omar, Cedric, and Justin march toward him. Justin barked orders for Cedric and Omar to flank Tyrell. He knew if he had a head start on the teenager he could catch him. They’d raced several times before and were almost evenly matched. Tyrell broke out into the middle of the street and breezed past Omar. Cedric and Justin made a quick 180 and followed. In order for Tyrell to get to base he had to get out of the street. Justin reached base as soon as Tyrell jumped on the sidewalk. Tyrell attempted to side step him, causing Justin to miss his arm, and tag him below his belt. The rest of the boys made it to base out of breath.
“Eww, you touched my butt!” Tyrell shouted at Justin
“No I didn’t. You’re it.”
“I’m not playing with you. You gay. Justin’s a faggot ya’ll! Don’t let him touch you!``
Tyrell doubled over and started laughing as he inched away from Justin. Omar and Cedric started running in opposite directions. Laughing and pointing at Justin.
“Stop why ya’ll running?”
Tyrell laugh harder as he said, “You got that gay juice on you.”
Omar and Cedric watched Justin and laughed along. Tyrell wsa hunched over with laughter and didn’t see Justin walking towards him. He didn’t see the tears welling up in his eyes. Nor the clenched fists.
It took Tyrell several moments to register what had happened. In the midst of his laughter Justin had taken the opportunity to punch him in the ear. The blow had shocked him and, for a moment, made him dizzy. Tyrell was slow in the classroom but he dominated physically. Justin had no chance to retreat and he didn’t want to. He had no idea what a “faggot” was; he only had this deep feeling that he didn’t want to be one. He didn’t know what it meant to be gay; only that he didn’t want to be gay.
Justin’s mother sat at the dining room table cutting up potatoes while she listened to CD 101.9: Smooth Jazz. Her hands dirtied with water and potato skin. Her brow dripping with sweat. She had been enjoying the empty home and quiet when Justin burst through the door. Immediately, she noticed his scratched face and bloody nose. She dropped everything.
“What happened?” she called after him. Justin rushed past her to the bathroom and shut the door.
Those men at the corner stood as though they were five Tyrells. They didn’t laugh on the outside but Justin could feel them. He heard the echoes of that day long ago. He remembered staring in the bathroom mirror placing peroxide on his lip. He had refused to talk when his mother came in and tried to talk to him. Why was he so angry? He didn’t know what it meant to be gay or a faggot. He only knew whatever it was he didn’t want to be it, that he was just a boy. Now he was a man and he was as disturbed by that word now as he was then. He stared at the men and they at him. He wondered what would happen if he punched one of them in the face? What had happened to Tyrell? And Omar, and Cedric? A police siren sounded in the distance. One of the men grumbled something and began to walk away. Eventually, Justin was left there standing alone.