Band Fags! (11 page)

I find Gerry and Ned safe and sound beneath my bottom dresser drawer where I've hidden them for safekeeping. I figure nobody's gonna think to remove the
entire
drawer, should they decide to go snooping around in my Personal Private things. With my brother off playing in our neighbor's backyard, I've finally got some much needed privacy. Might as well do a little reading…

I crawl up into my top bunk, lie down, and locate my place on page 186…Gerry the Brit is chaise-lounging poolside on the
Homo Boat.
Boyfriend André snoozes beside him. Enter Hank the American, a deluxe French edition of
Madame Bovary
in his hand. Gerry the Whore's all like, “My! What a good bod—I mean, book you've got there.” To which Hank the Hustler's all like, “Thanks…Wanna fuck?”

And they're off!

I'm paraphrasing, of course. But the gist is…Gerry's got this insatiable appetite for S-E-X with M-E-N. And to top it all off, he's hung like a horse. Back in the day, he used to be a kept boy for some older man. But now, Gerry's a full-fledged adult and on the prowl aboard some “Fags Only” cruise ship. Getting It on whenever and with whomever he likes.

On to page 188…Gerry's found the lube. Totally hot and bothered, he begs Hank to give him the you-know-what up the you-know-where. Even if it means cheating on Poor André. The minute they're done, Gerry decides he wants Hank to fuck André, next…While he watches? (Gross!)

I toss the stupid book aside, wondering why I'm even reading it in the first place. I might as well watch
Days of our Lives
. Bo & Hope are trying to track down this psycho killer, The Dragon, who's running around Europe killing off members of the Royal Family. Along with Shane Donovan—this James Bond-like detective who works for some FBI-like group called the ISA—who's also got the hots for Bo's sister, Kimberly. The only thing is…Shane is about to find out his dead wife, Emma, has come back from the grave. Even though she was presumably murdered years ago by The Dragon himself. At which point, it'll most likely be
The End of Shane & Kimberly,
who's going blind due to some rare visual disorder she's developed, God only knows how!

Now that I think of it…I
do
have today's episode on tape. So it's not like I have to watch it right this minute. And since I've already started reading
The Adventures of Ned & Gerry,
I might as well finish it.

Page 191…André discovers Gerry naked in the bathroom of their cruise-ship cabin with Hank the Hustler. But is he upset at finding his Lover in the arms of another man? No…He joins in on the action!

After reading a few pages, I notice something odd…The sweatpants I'm wearing must be getting a little small. Because they're feeling awfully tight in the crotch all of a sudden. Maybe I'd better take them off and make myself more comfortable?

Which is exactly what I do…

That's better!

“Today!”

As I dig through Brad's locker looking for my Band folder and Algebra book, I inform Mr. Impatient, “We gotta wait for Audrey.”

“What for?”

“She's walking home with us.”

“What for?”

“Because she lives over by me,” I explain. Even though I know he already knows this.

“No,” Brad replies. “Because she likes you.”

I roll my eyes. “She does not,” I declare. Even though I know he's already made up his mind so it makes no difference what I say.

As she rounds the corner, I immediately notice Audrey's got this weird look on her face. Not weird-weird, but…It's kinda like what my Mom would call “The Cat that ate the Canary.”

So I'm like, “What's up?”

And Brad's like, “You look constipated…Want some Correctol?” Then he laughs.

Knowing I should never attempt to hang out with Audrey and Brad at the same time, I do my best to keep the peace. Which is why I change the subject. Immediately.

“What do you got there, Aud?” I ask her. She's been holding a folded piece of pink
While You Were Out
message-pad paper in her hand. Which I assume has something to do with her look of excitement/constipation.

“Oh, nothing…” Audrey holds it up. Then she unfolds the memo, slowly and deliberately, before reading us the Confidential contents contained therein: “29-36-09.”

“Sounds like your measurements,” Brad cracks. Even though he knows that Audrey's got a thing about thinking she's fat.

“Very funny,” she replies. “How's that hair of yours holding up?” By which she's referring to the fact that our Health teacher, Mrs. Strong, recently taught us that a majority of men with red hair—like Brad—eventually lose it once they become adults. Which has got him all freaked out considering his Deadbeat Dad went bald by the time he was 30. Which for Brad is only a little over fifteen years away.

We move down the hallway towards the building's side exit. “Sounds like your locker combination,” I say, working my way in between my two Best Pals, getting us back on subject.

“Not
my
locker com,” Audrey announces as we burst through the double doors onto a warm 70° day out on Woodward Heights.

“So who's com is it?” asks Brad once we reach the concrete sidewalk directly opposite the humongous radio tower across the street belonging to WOMC. Why they call it “Detroit's Big O” when the station is located in Ferndale, I have no idea.

“None other than Fuck Face Craig Gershrowski's.”

It seems that while filing away some files in the Guidance Counseling Office during 1st hour, Audrey unexpectedly came upon the Personal Record belonging to my Arch Nemesis. In which she learned: (a) Fuck Face's middle name is Francis, (b) he was held back in 2
^nd
grade, and (c) the combination to his locker, #686!

Fast-forward to the following Thursday, May 23
^rd
…

Around 7:00 PM my Dad drops me off in the side parking lot at school where I'm about to meet my date, 8
^th
grader Tracy Cardoza. You might remember that her older sister, Lydia, is Brad's sister Janelle's Best Friend and the one who gave her the JEH
Playgirl
for her Sweet Sixteen.

“Over here, Jackie!” Tracy calls out from where she sits on one of the little wooden benches in the graveled courtyard outside the commons by the Guidance Counseling Office.

“You look awesome,” I tell her after making my approach. Then I present Tracy with the white and pink-tipped carnation corsage my Mom helped me pick out at The Daisy Petal up on John R.

“Thank you!” she exclaims. Like she wasn't expecting to be given a carnation at the traditional end-of-the-year Carnation Dance or something. Which is kinda like the Freshman Prom. Except anybody at Webb can go. Including the piddly little 7
^th
graders.

Tracy extends her wrist as I slip the corsage onto it. Happily, I discover it goes well with her dress. Which totally reminds me of the one worn by her favorite singer—and fellow Detroiter—Madonna, on the cover of her latest album,
Like a Virgin.
Complete with long white gloves and matching scarves worn in her teased blond bob.

I've gotta say, Tracy Cardoza has come a long way this year. When I first met her back in September, she was totally quiet and kinda shy. I wouldn't call her mousy. But let's just say…Compared to the way she looks now she was like a totally different person. Tracy and I have 6
^th
hour Creative Academics together with Mrs. Babbage. Who everybody's taken to calling Cabbage Patch. Not that she isn't nice or anything, 'cause she totally is. But the thing that sucks about having Mrs. Babbage for both 6
^th
hour Creative Academics and 3
^rd
hour English is…I was
supposed
to have Ms. Lemieux. Same teacher I had for 7
^th
grade Enriched English & Social Studies. I can't even tell you how disappointed I was when I entered the classroom on the First Day of School to find we had a brand new teacher.

What's even more odd is…When Brad and I asked Jessica Clark Putnam if she knew what happened to Ms. Lemieux all she said was, “Good riddance to bad rubbish.” Which kinda surprised us. So we asked her what she meant by her remark and JCP just rolled her eyes, mumbling something about Ms. Lemieux being “an incompetent buffoon.” Which has since gone on to earn a place right up there with “Friends hold you back.”

Personally, I think Mrs. Putnam was always jealous of Ms. Lemieux, whose first name just so happens to be Cinnamon, believe it or not. For a 35-year-old
divorcée,
all the guys in our class thought Cin—as Brad and I liked to call her—was totally hot. With her curly brown mane of hair and curvaceous figure, Ms. Lemieux always came to school looking her best. Which is what her last name means in French, you know? “The Best.” I'm telling you, she could have easily been a model back in the '70s, that's how awesome she looked. And she was totally cool on top of everything else.

Sometimes Cin would take me and Brad out to lunch with her. The minute we got in the car she'd be all like, “Do you mind if I smoke?” As she was lighting up. Of course, I totally
did.
Though I never said anything. I mean, who am I to tell a teacher she should stop killing herself?

“Where's Brad and What's-Her-Name?” Once we're finished with all the corsage formalities, Tracy asks me this.

“You mean Ginny?” I reply, referring to Brad's date.

In case I haven't mentioned…Ginny is this girl Brad met two Summers ago at Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp. As far as I know, he hadn't talked to her since. Then a couple weeks ago, he called her up, invited her to the Carnation Dance and surprisingly, she said yes.

I can't blame him for wanting to be seen with someone who's not from Hazeltucky. Or even Ferndale. I'm sure all the Jock Jerks will be dying to know who Ginny is. From what I remember, she's
very
cute. Plus she lives in Clarkston. Which is the same fancy suburb out past 30 Mile where Joey Palladino—my Best Friend from Longfellow—and his family moved after 6
^th
grade…I've gotta remember to ask Ginny if she knows him.

“Hey, you guys!”

I look over my shoulder to see Brad and Ginny making their entrance. He's all decked out in his Sunday Best. Blue blazer, matching tie, and tan dress pants while Ginny's got on a very frilly pink gown. Like something you'd wear to a wedding. Compared to Tracy's Madonna dress, it's like Night and Day.

“Don't you look sharp?” I tell my Best Friend. Though I'm actually kinda pissed he's wearing a jacket
and
tie and didn't bother to tell me. I thought we were going casual-nice here. Now I look like a Total Slob wearing a pair of gray pleated dress pants I borrowed from Brad, along with my favorite gray and white pinstriped button-down dress shirt I got on sale at Merry-Go-Round. Though I've actually gotten a lot of compliments on it. Even from Mr. Grant.

“Cool shirt,” he told me the first time I wore it to his class a few months ago. “Too bad you're not my size…I'd have to borrow it.” Then I swear he gave me a wink!

The Dance is a Total Blast. Tracy and I have an awesome time, dancing almost every slow song together. Except for when Carrie Johnson corners me, wanting her
Days of our Lives
update. Turns out she loves Peter Reckell—the guy who plays Bo—just as much as I love Kristian Alfonso, and May 23, 1985 is not only the day of the traditional end-of-the-year Carnation Dance. It's also the long awaited wedding of Bo Brady and Hope Williams.

Actually, Carrie's been a
Days
fan longer than I have. She started watching with her Mom back in 5
^th
grade. Back in the days of the Salem Strangler or Salem Slasher. Whichever serial killer was running around terrorizing the women of Salem at the time. Once Carrie found out I had a VCR at my house and taped
Days
every day, she made it my responsibility to fill her in on what's been happening.

“What did Hope's dress look like?” she half-whispers in my ear, as we spin round and round to “All I Need” by
General Hospital
's very own Jack Wagner, speaking of Soaps.

“I hate to say it,” I tell Carrie, “but I wasn't that impressed.” Even though I read in
Soap Opera Digest
that the dress cost $20,000. I think what I didn't like most about it was the veil. Which was more like this poufy headpiece-thingie, totally covering all of Hope's hair. And everybody who knows Kristian Alfonso knows what beautiful long dark
flowing
hair she's got. I don't know why anybody would ever decide she should cover it up.

“What about the actual ceremony?” Carrie asks. I can totally tell she regrets not skipping school to stay home and watch today. But Webb Junior High policy says if you're absent from school on the day of a dance, you can't go. And I know Carrie wouldn't miss seeing Mr. Grant all decked out in his suit and tie wearing his
really
tight dress pants…Which he totally is!

I proceed to tell Carrie all about Bo & Hope's wedding. How it took place at this humongous cathedral in London, where Bo & Hope and Shane & Kimberly had all been looking for The Dragon. Where—just as I predicted—Shane found his presumably dead wife, Emma, alive and well. Of course, she has no memory whatsoever of the time she spent missing! It was definitely a
Days of our Lives
not to be missed. Which is what I tell Carrie Johnson. Even though I know she already knows it.

When the song ends, I thank Carrie for the dance and she thanks me for the update. Then I join Tracy who's been waiting for me over on the sidelines near where all the Wallflowers always sit. I told her she should feel free to dance with somebody else while I was dancing with Carrie. But Tracy said she'd rather not. I think she really likes me.

“Audrey's looking for you,” Tracy informs me as I return.

I look up at the silver-framed regulation School Clock on the wall…8:30 PM. Time for
Operation Revenge of the Band Fags!

“What did she say?” I ask.

“She told me to tell you to get your ass in gear,” which is Total Audrey, “and for you and Brad to meet her you-know-where to do you-know-what.”

Which is all part of
Operation Revenge of the Band Fags!

I spot Brad and Ginny out on the dance floor, about to break into the next fast dance. Which is why I motion for him to come over to where I'm standing with Tracy and the Wallflowers.

“What the fuck?” Brad scowls as he and Ginny join us. “You know how much I love Wang!” By which he means Wang Chung, as the DJ starts spinning “Dance Hall Days.”

“It's time…” I tell him. Though I'm not sure I'm gonna be able to go through with
Operation Revenge of the Band Fags!
Even though I realize this is probably my last opportunity.

“Let's kick it!” says Brad, sounding all JEH from his
Cover Up
days.

“Would somebody please tell me what's going on?” Ginny asks, totally confused.

Tracy replies, “Don't ask…”

“Jack and I got some business to take care of,” Brad explains to his date.

“What kind of business?” Ginny asks, half-laughing/half-sounding concerned.

“Let's just say Jack's got a score to settle,” Brad answers, “and I'm gonna help him.”

Which is when Tracy chimes in, “I'm telling you, Ginny…You don't even wanna know.”

If you're anything like Brad's date, you're probably wondering what the Hell is going on…

Not only is May 23, 1985 the biggest night of the year on account of it being the traditional end-of-the-year Carnation Dance. It's also
Operation Revenge of the Band Fags!
Which might explain why Brad and I are scurrying down the empty front hallway, instead of “Dancing in the Dark” with the rest of our Freshman class. Which happens to be this year's theme, as thought up by Freshman Cheerleading Captain Shelly Findlay, herself.