Boo-Boo was at work, so I went over to Skeeter, sitting in his La-Z-Boy, and asked to come up. He pulled me up next to him and went back to his book. But I didn't want to cuddle.
"When did you know you were a faggot?" I asked.
"The word is gay," he said.
"Forgive me for not being PC—when did you know you were a gay?"
"I think I've always known. When I was a very, very little boy—even as young as five, I think—I used to have dreams about wrestling naked with Ron Ely, the guy who played Tarzan on TV."
"Yeah," I said, "that's gay alright."
"Why are you asking this?" he said.
"Just curious." And he went back to his book. Then I asked, "And how long before you came out of the closet?"
He looked up impatiently, but when he looked at me the impatience faded and he said, "Well, I was from a Catholic, military family so it was not something you did. So I didn't until I hooked up with Boo-Boo and there was no hiding it."
"But you had a life before Boo-Boo?" I said more than asked.
"Oh, yes..." and his eyes went a little weird, and he smiled strangely and I could tell he was thinking of dirty, dirty things.
"HEY! SNAP OUT OF IT! We're talking about me here!"
"Oh?" he said and looked at me. "I thought we were talking about me. You don't think you're going queer, do you?"
"Ick! No!"
"'Ick?'"
"Sorry, I mean: Hell! No!" There was a long silence which Skeeter had the good sense not to fill. I didn't know exactly what I wanted to say. Finally I said, "How was it, back then, when you knew but didn't tell anybody?"
"Well, when I was very young I knew no one would handle it, at all: not my siblings, not my parents, not society. I knew—without knowing it as a fact—that I would be pilloried. So I kept quiet, even for a long time after I had to be quiet."
"Had to? You see that's the thing: there was a time when you had to be quiet. When it wasn't safe because it was so bad, or wrong, or taboo—"
"Yes, that's how it was."
"Jeez." And my head was exploding with questions but instead I said, "It's about me and Cleo."
"Cleo?"
"THECATTHECATTHECAT!!!!!!"
"Okay, simmer down. The black and white cat, down the street...?" I nodded. He went on, "And the problem is that it's bad? It's unacceptable? And to who; other dogs...?"
"Dogs, cats, some humans, rats, snakes...you name it. Worse then queer—"
"—how do you know?—"
"—well, queer dogs and cats are okay with us."
"Really?" he said, sounding like the queerest little street gossip you could every want to meet. "Are there queer dogs in the neighbourhood?"
"Yeah, probably. Benjie. Anyway, that's not the thing. I'm about to be ostracized. Ginger saw me with Cleo and this could get ugly."
"Well, you always have me." I snerfed a laugh which I guess sounded insulting because he didn't take it well. "Is that not enough?"
"You don't know how it is." Then I stopped. "Well, maybe you do."
"Yes, maybe I do." And then he hugged me really hard and I dared to enjoy the hug and then we settled back to watch TV. "Thank you," I said so quietly, I was hoping he wouldn't hear me.
"Anytime," he said as quietly.
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