Authors: Cindi Jones
“David, we’ve talked it over and don’t think that it would be a good idea if you talked to him or Sally.”
I would not argue.
She was dealing with this as best she could.
She continued “But we are having a party now and we are about to sing happy birthday. Do you want to listen?” she asked.
“Yes” was my answer.
I listened to the joyous strains of Happy Birthday and heard my little six year old blow out the candles and every one clap for joy as he did so.
Charlene came back on the line.
“I’m sorry David but I have to do what I feel is best,” she said.
“I will support you in that regard. You must do what you must do,” I replied. “Did the kids get their presents I got for them?” I asked. I didn’t get a clear answer. It was my impression that they did receive their presents but they did not know they were from me.
“Charlene?” I asked.
“Yes David”
“Tomorrow night, will you give me a call so I can listen to you sing happy birthday again to Sally?”
“Yes David, I will,” she promised.
She did call me the following night and I listened.
I hung up the phone and cried myself to sleep.
Alex visited again. I let him in. He told me how he was on a very short leash. He told me how hard it was now, having to account for every minute of his life. He asked if he could have some of my clothing that I was not using.
I told him that he could not. He asked me if he could use my storage locker.
“Look, it’s empty. The lease expires at the end of the year. If I don’t pay for the next year by the 15
th
of December, the lock will be cut and the locker will be rented to someone else. If you’ll pay me for the lock, I’ll give you the combination” I said.
He extracted a wallet from his back pocket. As he opened it up, I saw what was inside. I was familiar with having little cash on hand. He had only two dollars.
“This is all I have. They won’t let me have money and I have been hiding this,” he explained. He started to cry.
For the only time since I had learned to distrust Alex, I knew the truth in his statement. I knew what he was going through. It was happening to me.
“Look” I said, the lock cost me six dollars. Let me write the combination down for you.
Keep your money for now. You can owe me.”
He looked grateful as he took the piece of paper. He left and that was the last time I ever saw Alex.
Charlene sent me a package at work. Inside was a letter pleading for me to come back to her. She did go on and on about the evil I was involved with. She begged for her husband to come back to her.
I felt like dirt.
No. A dirt clod.
See, you could approach a dirt clod and step on it. The dirt then became dust.
The package contained a book.
It was a story about a gay man who had come back to
Christ
.
It chronicled his journey back
from the gay life style. It was a “pray the gay away” type memoirs. I was not gay.
I scanned the dust jacket and could see that I wasn’t interested.
It would only serve to pull me down further.
I had absolutely no work to do but I was expected to show up every day.
Were they looking for an excuse to get rid of me? I would not grant it. So I showed up every day and continued working on my own projects. That by itself was degrading.
My phone rang.
“Hello, this is Cindi Jones speaking. How may I help you?”
I hadn’t had a call for a couple of days.
The receptionist was forwarding business calls to someone else.
I knew why.
“David” Charlene started.
“I need to talk to you.”
My heart stopped briefly and I slumped in my chair. I really didn’t need this. I was already having a tough time coming to work every day and facing the possibility of someone coming to my apartment at night. And now, I thought that someone was following me. That thought was probably paranoid and delusional.
But I thought it nonetheless.
“Alright Charlene, what do you want to talk about?”
“Did you receive the package?”
“Yes, I received it this morning.”
“Did you read my letter?”
“I will always read your letters Charlene.”
“Will you read the book as I asked?”
“Charlene, I really don’t want to read the book.”
“Please David, please, do this one last thing for me.”
My will was breaking.
I had been having nightmares. Rusty had returned but he looked different and I could not remember how. I kept waking up. They were beating me down and I was having a hard time holding up. Three weeks had passed since the night I could not talk to my children on their birthdays.
“Charlene, okay, I will read it for you,” I promised.
We chatted some more and she broke into tears as she related the story of my excommunication.
The date had been moved up when the bishop had learned I was using an unused Women’s restroom on the unleased floor above us in our of
fice building
.
“Please David, you can come back. Please read the book.
I do still love you very much.”
She hung up the phone and I sat staring at the book.
It was Thursday afternoon.
I started reading the book.
The story was
very well written
.
Unlike this volume, it had been professionally edited, rewritten, and published.
It was heart wrenching.
I got halfway through
everyone started leaving the office to go home
.
I l
eft the book on my desk and drove home to my tiny apartment
.
Someone else tried to visit that night. I had to hide behind my bed for a long time as they peeped into my windows.
The following day, at work, I finished the book.
The
“pray the gay away”
theme seemed very logical for some reason
.
It was powerful. It was convincing. I was desperate to see my kids. I wanted to feel the love that only an innocent life can share.
I did not want to be told I was loved
and that should be enough to be normal
. I couldn’t stand it. My will had been broken. I
had become
the
smashed
dirt clod.
Dennis called me into his office for another pep talk. I told him that I did not want to talk anymore
But talk we did.
He drove the final nail and I submitted.
“Can I take the rest of the day off?” I asked.
“Sure David,” he said.
“My name is still legally Cindi” I replied.
I rose from my chair and went home. I flopped on the bed and cried for the rest of the night until sleep finally rescued me.
“Charlene” I said as she picked up the phone.
“I hope you have read that book. You promised me David,” she demanded.
“I read the book Charlene. I can’t stand another minute without my kids. You have all won. I’m coming home.”
“You’d better not show up here with long hair,” she warned.
“I’ll cut it off” I replied with no conviction. I was beat, I was defeated, and I could hardly care anymore. I did truly want to try one last time to be David.
“Can you come this afternoon?” she asked.
“Is 4
PM
okay with you?” I asked.
“Yes, that is fine,” she answered
And with that, I said goodbye.
I wondered how I was going to do this.
It didn’t matter.
I would just let time pass by I supposed.
“Mike, hi, this is Cindi,” I told him on the phone. “I need your help.”
I had worked with Mike in a start up company.
He had become a best friend. He was slightly overweight but still good looking.
He talked with a slight lisp, had never gone to college, and was the brightest programmer I had ever met.
He had a beautiful wife named Cindy.
She had been a member of the Mormon Church at one time but had been ostracized for some reason. I didn’t know what it was. But because of that experience she had shown me considerable compassion. They both had. Mike grew up in a Catholic home and when he had married Cindy, she became a member of the Catholic faith. I loved them both very much, not just because Cindy and I shared some common ground.
“Mike, I’m giving up,” I said
“Oh, Cindi, I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”
“I don’t know Mike. I can hardly function.
I can’t think and I’m severely depressed.”
“What do you need Cindi?
Just say the word.”
“Mike, can you get me an appointment with a barber?
I’m going to cut my hair and I need you to go with me.
I can’t go alone.
It’s just too much for me to handle right now.”
“I’d do anything for you. Are you coming up this way?” he asked
“Yea.
I’m going to see my kids and Charlene wants me to cut my hair first. I can be there in 25 minutes.”
“Okay Cindi, I’ll set something up and wait for you here at home.”
Now, how many people that you know will turn on a dime to help you on that very spot at that very moment?
Both he and Cindy were like that.
I flushed out some boy clothes.
My tennis shoes were women’s shoes but I don’t know that anyone would ever know.
I put on a tee shirt and jeans.
I drove north to meet up with Mike.
“The appointment isn’t for an hour or so
,”
Cindy said as she passed me a cold glass of Diet Coke.
“I haven’t had one of these for a while” I said with gratitude.
We talked about what had happened and how I had been beat down.
I told her that I thought that I could do it. I could make things right. She sat there crying as I told her the story.
“Cindi, is it okay if I call you that?” she asked
“That is still my legal name” I answered.
“Good.
What I want to tell you is this: We will always be your friends no matter what happens. If you need help, you call us okay?”
“Okay” I blubbered.
“You and Mike got along so well for so long. I want you to feel free to be part of our little family.”
“Thank you so much Cindy” I said as I wiped the hair from my face. We talked for a bit and the hour passed.
“Ready to go?” asked Mike.
“Sure” I said.
We entered into the barber shop and sat down.
“Next” the barber said to us. There was no one else in his shop.
I sat down in his chair and looked at myself in the mirror. I saw a broken soul with a red puffy face.
“Now what would you like me to do with this?” he asked.
“Cut it off” I replied. Give me a working man’s cut.
“Nice hair,” he said.
“You know I know a lot of women who would die for hair like this,” he went on.
Every female hairdresser that I’d ever visited as David would tell me “you should be a girl with hair like this. It’s just not fair.” And, I knew, I’d be hearing that for the rest of my life. Digging and gouging piercing stings into my heart.
The locks came off and I paid the gent with a credit card.
“Next customer!
” he yelled as the two of us left.
“Do you mind but I have to stop at the ATM” Mike asked.
“Sure, that’s fine.”
I sat in the front of his Toyota minivan as he approached the ATM. He ran into someone he knew and they chatted briefly. His friend looked at me and they chatted a bit and parted.
Mike retrieved the cash from the ATM and returned to the car.
“Sorry, but that was someone I knew,” he said.
When she looked at you in the car, she asked who you were.
I told her that you were a long time work associate.
She asked me why I was with another woman and not my wife. I told her that we were just running some errands and that we were going back to my place for some lunch with Cindy.”
“She thought that I was a girl with this cut?”
“Apparently,” he replied. “Look, Cindi, you have changed a lot you know.
I can see how she would have made the mistake.”
I pulled down the vanity mirror.
My face was soft with no sign of any facial hair. My lower face was much thinner than it used to be and my chin was now softer, not so angular. Additionally, I had lost over 30 pounds.
I wasn’t that heavy to begin with.
Charlene met me at the curb as I approached the house.
Oh how I wanted to see my kids. I’m sorry David but we need to go somewhere to talk first. I thought a moment and remembered that there was a picnic area just above us in the foothills.