Brad Grabs his Balls and Looks Death in the Eye
Portrait of queer triumph and tragedy
Soon as Luke got upstairs, I grabbed him and pulled him into our room. Pushed him down on our bed. Pounced on him, wantin to just eat him up.
Laughin and kissin him at the same time, I was like, “All you guys lookin at my pipe-bomb ass last night made me horny. Let’s play before that Queer Nation zap thing.”
There!
Right there is the first time I ever said the word queer. Zap is what Mike called it. Said everybody should meet at Uncle Charlie’s then march to the 6th Precinct for the zap.
I pulled up Luke’s shirt and started kissin up his belly toward his nipples.
But he got all tense and yelled at me. Like, “Ow! Stop, my shoulder still hurts.”
“Oh, baby, I forgot,” I said. I rolled my weight off him and just tickled his chest with my fingertips. “I’m so sorry! Relax, OK? Let me take care of you.”
I reached down with my other hand and went to squeeze his package. I figured he needed a nice slow blowjob. Then maybe a quick nap. But he was soft, which for Luke was … more than weird.
And his muscles were hard! Like he was all tensed up.
I slipped my fingers under his waistband and just cupped him real soft, waitin for him to feel better. Feel ready. But nuthin happened.
Then, and I mean for the first time EVER, he pushed me away. Hard. Almost knocked me off the bed.
He jumped up and ran to the door. “I said stop! Don’t touch me right now.” He paused before he opened it, and I could see him shakin.
“Lukey, what’s wrong? You need pain medicine? Wanna smoke a joint? What can I do?”
He put his hand on the knob, and I heard a sigh. “Nuthing,” is what he said. “You can’t do anything right now. Just … look, I’m sorry but I gotta talk to David for a while.”
Then he left the room, left me layin there wonderin what the hell was up. I heard serious voices comin outta the kitchen for a while. Low and fast like him and David in a fight.
By the time I got up to see what was wrong, Luke was on the phone, with the Yellow Pages open in front of him, David kicked back with his feet up on the table. Scowlin at me.
I couldn’t figure out what I done wrong.
Mike hugged me again. Right in front of Uncle Charlies! Hugged Luke too. Gave us both that famous stare that just drills right through you, the one where he sees only you, and you really matter.
“It’s so cool you guys came. Thank you! Man, just look around. This is so awesome.” The famous Michael-angelo sounded like a little kid who couldn’t believe how great Christmas turned out.
It was awesome, all right!
I couldn’t believe how many people came. Way more than a thousand. Like, we couldn’t even fit on the sidewalk in front of the bar. Everybody had signs. Most about bein queer.
But the one that really got me were all the signs that said “Dykes and Fags Bash Back.” I found out later this huge banner up front, so wide it took up the whole street, screamed the same thing. “Dykes and Fags Bash Back!”
Luke was kinda back to normal.
When Mike headed up to the front carryin a bullhorn, Luke grabbed my arm and held on tight. When we started movin, all jerky like, startin and stoppin, he gave me a really scared look.
I was scared too!
Me and Luke was all the way at the back, people shoutin instructions from up front.
“If the cops grab anybody, fight back. Pile on top, jump on top of the pile. Don’t let go!”
“If anybody on the street hassles us, gang up and chase em down. Beat the fuck out of em!”
“Remember, we are NOT nonviolent. Bash back! Fists, feet, teeth! Fuck em up!”
Luke and me looked at each other like, What the hell did we get ourselves into? Who ARE these people?
Then as we shuffled along, I started recognizin faces. I’d seen most everybody around the Village over the last two years. Some of em came into the bar, some dint.
And you know what? All of em were lookin around just like me and Luke was. Like, what the fuck? What are we doin? Who are we?
Then the chants started and we started figurin out the answer.
We’re here! We’re Queer! Get Used To It!
Out Of the Closet and Into The Streets!
Dykes and Fags Bash Back!
Bash Back! Bash Back! Bash Back!
Weird shivers started runnin up and down my skin, like ice cubes leavin trails all over me. I was shoutin my lungs out and my face was all wet. I looked over at Luke and he was cryin too.
He grabbed me, sucked my tongue outta my mouth, and kissed me forever!
I thought he was gonna strangle me.
I looked around and other people were doin the same. Cryin. Screamin. Huggin. These two girls in biker jackets was all over each other, tears all runnin down their faces, lips glued to each other.
One of em saw me lookin and smiled at me so hard. She grabbed me and kissed me too, pumpin her fist in the air, screamin, “Bash back!”
Luke grabbed her into a hug and rocked her until she calmed down. When he let her go, she and her girlfriend just pumped their fists in the air and screamed some more. One of em looked over at me and was like, “Grab your balls and take back the streets, man. If I had balls, I’d be grabbin em!”
So ya know what? I did it!
I grabbed my balls like some fucked up imitation of the kids in high school who used to think they was tough. Like Keith! I grabbed my balls — swishy, queeny, campy me — and I just screamed and screamed into the air.
That girl grabbed me, laughin her ass off, kissin my cheeks and cheerin. I picked her up and spun her around, tastin salt and wet like at Cherry Grove beach.
I dunno what happened at the police station. We was too far back to hear everything. I heard later Mayor Dinkins showed up. On our side. So the cops couldn’t do shit, even though everybody said they wanted to. Even though they threatened to hurt us bad.
We dint beat anybody up that day.
We dint bash back, even though we said we would. That came two months later. Maybe I’ll tell you about it one day. It dint EXACTLY happen how the papers say it did. But it mostly did.
I ain’t ashamed, though.
We got home late, Luke and me after the zap. We headed over to Charlie’s first and got told to go home. We was supposed to work but the manager said forget it. Handed us each a hundred bucks and told us to get some sleep.
I’d say that was the best weirdest part of the whole crazy day, but … I dunno, it’s kinda drowned out in my memory by what came next.
We walked home with David and Patrick. Me holdin Luke’s hand, David holdin Patrick’s, just kinda ownin the street, ya know?
We felt powerful. Free.
We ate burgers and fries at some sleazy diner. Roamed around under the train tracks. Stopped at biker bars and drank rye whiskey shots.
Hung from monkey bars across the street from where some girls, only they wasn’t really girls, was hustlin cars.
They gave us the finger when they saw us lookin, so we smiled and waved and they blew us kisses and told us to get the fuck out cuz we was scarin away their johns.
The closer we got to home, the limper Luke’s hand felt in mine. Like he wasn’t holdin on anymore. Like if I let go, his hand would fall away and disappear. I squeezed tighter and tighter, wantin him to know I’d never let go.
Later, in bed, he curled up in a ball and rocked back and forth like a baby.
I tried to touch him, but he jerked away.
“What!?” I shouted at him. “What the hell is wrong with you? What did I do?”
I don’t know why I dint expect the words that came next. I don’t know why I dint figure it out. I don’t know why …
Luke rolled over onto his back, chest heavin. “I’ve got it,” he said, sobbin and chokin. “I’ve got it!”
I still dint understand. Nuthin made sense.
I was like, “Got what? What the fuck are you talkin about?”
He looked me in the eye, real hard, real fast, real mean. Then he put his hands over his face and sobbed some more. “Fuck AIDS!” he said. “Fuck it all! You can’t fucking bash this back, man. I HAVE AIDS! I’m gonna die.”
I felt like somebody punched me in the balls. I reached out and put a hand on Luke’s shoulder. The injured one, by mistake. He jerked away and screamed at me. “Get out! Get the fuck away from me!”
I wanna say I grabbed him and rocked him and held him and whispered in his ear, but I dint do none of that.
I jumped up and ran.
David grabbed me and shook me and made me stop yellin. Patrick forced me into a chair and talked to me long into the night.
The whole time, we heard Luke cryin and moanin.
This story is true.
Brad was my friend and lover. I was living in New York during the events in this chapter, but I didn’t know Brad and Luke, and I was not yet a member of Queer Nation or Act Up.
I’ve fictionalized the dialogue in this chapter based on stories Brad told me later.
