Brad, a Pipe Bomb, and Queer Nation
Portrait of a man, emerging
The bomb ripped the shit outta my skimpy spandex.
My ass was all hangin out when me and Luke jumped in a cab to get to St. Vincent’s. I was cryin and laughin at the same time. Blood all over the back seat, Luke throwing his coat over my naked chest. Sticky glitter everywhere.
What, you never heard about the pipe bomb at Uncle Charlie’s? April 1990. I guess if it hadn’t happened I wouldn’t never met that Michael-angelo writer guy — Signorile or however the fuck you say it — and started to use words like queer and fag in a good way.
Fags bash back, right?
I dint think about it then, but the night of the bomb was two Aprils after Keith broke my tooth and ripped my jeans.
Hey, lemme get another shot? Just fill this stupid water glass up, OK? Them nuns, they give me a clean one every time I get more ice water.
My teeth? Dancin in gold spandex shorts pays, man. If they’re super tight and barely big enough to cover your package, it pays the rent AND the dentist. Long as you don’t mind guys grabbin your ass. Which I never did!
Damn, that vodka burns good. OK, so I better back up. This is what happened.
I was only half scared that night Mom threw the stew at me. “Get your faggot ass in this kitchen” turned into “get your faggot ass outta my house!” pretty damn quick.
But it’s not like I planned to really leave.
I ran to the cemetery three blocks up the hill, the one by the church all the tourists take pictures off, smiling all proud like they got relatives who fought in 1776 or some dumb shit.
I found this old grave behind a bush where I used to go to be alone. Me and Keith did a school report on it once when we was 13. Couldn’t read the faded letters, specially not with all the damn moss. But we did this rubbing thing with paper and charcoal and figured it out.
PVT Nathaniel Hathaway. 1758 to 1776. Gave his life that we may be free. May God have mercy on his soul.
So I laid there and thought about how Keith was cousins to a buncha Hathaways, which meant so was I, and I thought about how this kid died when he was 18 which was what I would be in a month. Probably died fighting to be free of the Red Coats.
I thought hard about bein free.
Free of Castleton and mom and Keith and everybody else. Free to have a boyfriend instead of sneaking around behind dumpsters kissin some asshole who’s gonna deck me if anybody sees us.
Free to be gay which I was but couldn’t tell nobody.
I was plannin to wait til it got good and dark, then climb in my bedroom window and go to sleep. Not like I ain’t never done that before! But then I got to thinking about Nathaniel joinin the Continental Army when he was my age and the more I thought the madder I got.
Keith broke my tooth for nuthin just because David and them saw us messin around. Fuck them! And fuck my mom for throwin me outta the house!
When it got good and dark, I jumped up and ran home. I almost walked right in before I remembered to be careful. I climbed in my window and waited til I knew she’d be passed out in front of the TV.
Then I grabbed my gay magazines from under my mattress, the ones with all the articles about New York City. I started to pack, real quiet so she wouldn’t wake up before I could steal her purse.
I got my job at Uncle Charlie’s a week later. Yeah, I wasn’t 18 yet, but Luke knew this guy in Times Square who did fake IDs cheap. Luke was my first boyfriend and even though we fought all the time, I loved him. I miss him so bad I don’t …
Never mind.
I met him in Washington Square Park when I watching these black guys play chess for money. Some Hari Krishnas walked up and started acting all nice to me, like asking if I was OK and all. Did I have a place to sleep?
I dint know they were Hari Krishnas, dint know they were super bad news, but Luke sure did.
Even though I never seen him before, he walked right up and grabbed my arm. “Hey, girl!” he said, looking into my eyes. “Who’re your friends?”
Then he put his hands on his hips and turned to the Krishna dudes and wagged a finger at em. “You girls looking for somebody? Girlfriend and I are watching a little battle chess and then buying some weed. Wanna party with us later?”
He rolled his hips and talked like Marilyn Monroe. I couldn’t help smile when them Krishnas took off pissed as fuck.
But all I could see was Luke.
His hair was on fire, bright red and shiny in the sun, the wind blowin it all around. And cute! I could tell he was older than me, but not by much. I couldn’t help starin at him. But I dint say nuthin.
“You OK?” he asked me, voice all soft and nice. His hand was still on my arm.
I nodded, afraid to talk.
“No, you’re not. This is the second day I’ve seen you here with that heavy backpack. You look lost, man. You got a place to sleep?”
I nodded, not lying … exactly. I had a little bit of Mom’s money left, enough for one more night at the Y. If I dint eat much.
He looked me up and down. “Girlfriend, you don’t lie worth a damn, and your clothes are a MESS. Please tell me those aren’t Keds on your feet? And that haircut? Mary Louise!”
We walked all the way from Washington Square to the Meatpacking District, him talkin the whole way, me not saying much, just smilin. Had to climb four flights of stairs to get to his apartment, which it turned out he shared with four other guys but none of them was home.
When he pulled out the weed, I expected him to roll a jay, only he had a water bong, which I’d never seen before. We sat on this ratty couch, passin it back and forth, getting more stoned than I knew you could get stoned.
Turns out weed in Castleton is as shitty as everything else there.
“Shotgun?” he asked, leanin in close, breath hot on my cheek.
I dint mean to back away. I was just remembering Keith. And I was feelin around my mouth with my tongue. Catchin it on that jagged fuckin tooth. I dint mean to frown neither.
Luke put the bong down and scooted away from me. “Hey, it’s cool. Wanna just watch MTV? Hungry? I got leftover pizza to heat up. You can sleep here tonight. You don’t have to do anything.”
It was real hard for me to explain. I dint talk much then. Keepin secrets was how I’d lived for years. How I stayed safe.
But I did it. I took a deep breath, thought about that fucked up alley behind the 7 Eleven, and I said, “Can I tell you a story?”
When I finished, even the Nathaniel Hathaway part, he just sat there blinkin at me, like he dint know what to do. So I reached over and grabbed him.
I put my lips up to his and whispered, “We don’t have to shotgun to do this. That’s Keith’s problem, not mine. I dint come all the way to the City to eat pizza.”
Luke smelled even better than Keith, and our tongues dint fight. They just slid over each other, poking and rubbing. He moaned into my mouth and pulled me on top of him, arms circling, nose nuzzling my neck.
My legs clamped around his as my hips thrust in and out. He felt so good I wanted to stay like that forever. Only then two of his roomies came home and we all ate pizza after all, me too shy to talk.
Turned out it was Luke’s night off only I dint even know he worked at Uncle Charlie’s or know I would be in a few days.
But we had the whole night together in his bed! Which was just this mattress on the floor with curtains around it for privacy. I never had sex before, not real sex, but I’d read the gay stories in Keith’s Hustler Forum so I figured I knew what to do.
I never expected Luke to freak out. “Stop!” he yelled. Really loud. Then he pushed me off him and jumped up. “Don’t you EVER do that! What’s wrong with you!?”
I was so scared I started to cry a little. I’d just been pokin around, not even meaning to go all the way in or anything. He watched me for a while, then sat back down on the mattress. Reached over and grabbed something off the floor.
“Ever use a condom before?” he asked me.
“I seen em for sale at the drugstore.”
He sighed really big, and I felt like a cold wind was blowin over my naked skin. Luke’s sigh stuck with me til the day he died. I can still hear it. It still makes me shiver.
“OK,” he said, “pay attention.” He ripped the package open and rolled the thing down my dick, explaining how. Told me what kind of lube to use. What kind never to use.
Then he kissed me and told me he was sorry.
My first night at Uncle Charlie’s, dancin under hot lights with Luke, I felt … powerful. Stronger than I ever felt in my life. “Baby, you’re a natural!” he breathed into my ear as I thrust my hips to the beat of Madonna’s “Who’s That Girl.”
Luke backed off a little and pointed at me with both hands like he was showin me off. “Give em what they came to see!” he hollered at me. “Work it, girl!”
Guys, like really hot guys all over the room, were starin at me, tryna grab my eyes with theirs. I was shaking my butt in a pair of gold lycra shorts with gold glitter stuck all over my sweaty chest.
And right then? Dancin with Luke, I popped one.
The crowd cheered, I ran my hand through my sexy new haircut, and I swore I’d never go back to Castleton-on-Hudson again.
And you know what? If that pipe bomb hadn’t gone off two years later, I might not have.
Author’s Note:
This story is true. Brad was my best friend and occasional lover a very long time ago. I ran into Luke a few times, though I didn’t know him very well. Uncle Charlie’s wasn’t my scene, but I did go in for drinks a couple times when Brad was working.
He was so shy! Getting him to talk took tons of patience. Sometimes I got the idea he was afraid if he said too much, I’d stop liking him.
But in lycra shorts all covered in glitter, he was the BOSS. He owned the dance floor.
Would he still be alive if things had been different? That pipe bomb changed him so much, something I’ll be exploring in the next chapter. Stay tuned.
