Pink Toenails, a Straight Boy, and a Rainbow Blaze
Flaming with pride
“Dude, are your toenails pink?”
Eric snorted and buried his feet in pond mud. “What? Um … whatever, man. Why you lookin?”
Josh raised his minnow net over his head, squinting down at the water. “Because you took your shoes off?” He swooped, fast as a cat snatching a bird out of the air, smiling as three tiny silvered fish appeared dripping and flipping inside green mesh. They reflected July sunshine as he dumped them into a bucket by Eric’s muddy feet.
“I ain’t trying to look at your toes, but I can’t look down without seeing them.”
“Just catch more damn minnows so we can fish.”
“OK.” Josh raised his net again.
Eric buried his toes further in the mud. “My sister was messing around is all. She’s 8, she thinks it’s cute.”
“OK.”
“For real! I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not a big deal.”
“I don’t care if your toenails are pink. And I ain’t thinking nothing except you’re my friend and we’re gonna catch some big ones so my mom can do her fish fry tonight before the fireworks. You coming?”
“Where?”
“To the fireworks!”
Eric shrugged. “Why should I?”
“You gonna let them kids bother you for the rest of your life? You should go so we can have fun like always. We’ll catch fireflies.”
“We’re starting high school in September. I’ll see them plenty then, so why do it now? And aren’t we a little old for fireflies?”
“Fireworks are cool!”
“Fireflies are NOT cool and neither am I. You won’t have fun if you go with me.”
“I don’t care what they say about you!”
“You will when they start saying it about you. Trust me, you’ll fucking care.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Merriman!” said Eric as he accepted a paper plate of fried bluegill and bass fillets. He tucked his feet under the picnic table as he dived into a bowl of German potato salad and garden tomatoes. “This is is the best!”
“Glad you like it, sweetie. And I’m glad you came over. We don’t see enough of you these days.” She turned to her son. “Josh, did you invite Eric to the fireworks?”
“Yeah!” He threw an arm over Eric’s shoulder. “We’re gonna catch fireflies for his sister.”
“We are NOT!”
“Mom, can Eric spend the night after the festival?”
Eric drew in a sharp little breath as Mrs. Merriman seemed to dance around on her toes and struggle to find words.
“Have some lemonade, guys,” she finally said. Josh held out a red Solo cup and let her pour.
She didn’t speak again until she set the pitcher down. “Aren’t you boys getting a little old for sleepovers?” She didn’t say anything about the pink nails peeking out of Eric’s sandals, but he felt her eyes burning a hole in his toes.
“I don’t …” she started, frowning then seeming to force a smile onto her face. “You guys are 14, not little kids anymore. Look, if Eric was a girl, I wouldn’t let him spend the night. Nobody would think I should. So, …”
Josh jumped up angry as Eric melted into the picnic table bench. “Mom! Is that what you’re worried about? What people would think?”
“No! I mean, kind of but that’s not really it. Only 300 people live in this town and you always have to worry about what they think. But … that’s not ... I just don’t think a mom is supposed to let two 14-year-olds sleep in the same room if one of them is … You know?”
“Mom!”
Eric stood up and stuck his pink toenails as far out of his sandals as he could. “I get it. If one of them is gay and might make your own kid gay. That’s what everybody worries about, isn’t it?”
Mrs. Merriman put a hand over her mouth to cover up a gasp. “No, sweetie! That’s that not what I meant at all. I know it’s not contagious.”
“I’m not gay! I know that’s what everybody says, but I’m not. Jesus!”
“Mom, his sister painted his toenails as a joke. Eric, don’t swear, OK? You’re coming with us to the fireworks, and Mom will let you sleep over like you used to. Right, Mom? ”
“Boys, we need to talk about …”
“No! I lied. My sister didn’t paint my nails. I did because I wanted to!”
“Whatever, dude, just wear shoes to the festival instead of sandals, OK?”
Eric’s eyes darted between Josh and Josh’s mom. He didn’t know who to yell at first. His breath was coming in sharp bursts, and he didn’t think he could talk anyway. He ran instead, pink toenails out in front, his mouth shouting “No! No! No!” without his brain meaning for it to.
Eric didn’t mean to stop being friends with Josh, and Josh didn’t mean to stop being friends with Eric. But that’s what happened. Eric stopped coming over, and eventually Josh stopped texting to ask him to.
Starting two months after the fireworks Eric didn’t go see, they rode the same bus every day to the unified county high school where they had lockers in the same hallway.
But they never spoke.
That first morning on the bus, Eric nodded at Josh, and Josh looked like he was going to say something, but he didn’t. Eric found an empty seat and listened as kids whispered. He was pretty sure some of them were pointing at him.
Josh wanted to walk over and sit down with Eric, say sorry about the whole Fourth of July mess. But he wasn’t quite sure how to apologize. Or for what. Then he heard some big kid who ought to be old enough to drive to school cough out the word faggot like if was sooo funny, and he realized Eric had been right.
He didn’t want to care if they started saying it about him too, but he did care. He stayed in his seat and stared out at the trees beside the pond where he and his best friend had spent their last fun day together.
Thanksgiving came faster than either of them thought it would, then they started counting down the days until the long Christmas break. Sometimes, throwing a book in his locker between classes, Josh would would sneak glances at Eric, wondering how he was doing, knowing he hadn’t made any friends, remembering how they never used to have any secrets from each other.
Once or twice, they caught each other looking and almost opened their mouths to say hi, just out of habit, but they never did.
Tricia from Josh’s algebra class hinted that she’d go to the Christmas dance with him if he asked, so he asked. And they went together, and he kissed her behind the gym before his mom came to take them home. He watched moonlight glint off icy snow drifts and wished he were anywhere else, doing anything else.
“Mom,” he asked in the car after they dropped Tricia off. “Are we doing our Christmas bonfire this year?”
“Of course, sweetie. Don’t we always?”
“Cool, can you please put like 20 dollars on my Amazon account as part my Christmas presents? I want to order something for the bonfire, but I don’t want you to see what it is.”
“Ooooh, a big mystery, eh? How exciting! Will I like it?”
“It’ll probably surprise you a lot.”
“That’s not exactly an answer.”
He laughed and didn’t say anymore, afraid his voice would give him away. The next day, when the money show up in his account, he made the purchase as fast as could and reminded his mom not to open the box when it came.
He texted Eric, and when he didn’t get a reply he walked the three blocks to his house and knocked on his bedroom window. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole,” he said when Eric stuck his head out. “Our bonfire is on Saturday night and you have to come. You don’t have to talk to me, and you don’t have to be my friend. You don’t even have to eat with us, but you have to be out in our back yard at 10. Please? You have to.”
“I don’t know.”
“You’ll hear about it anyway, so you might as well come.”
The night of the bonfire was crazy like always. His mom made Christmas cookies and cakes, and served hot wine and rum to the adults, cocoa to the kids. A hundred people came. The adults got a little drunk, and the teenagers snuck rum into their mugs and got more drunk.
When his mom clapped her hands and announced that it was time to go out back and light the fire, Josh looked around and didn’t see Eric anywhere. He went to his room and grabbed the bag of stuff he’d ordered from Amazon and prayed that Eric would be watching from somewhere close.
Everybody oohed and aahed as Josh’s mom stuck a torch into the mountain of gas-soaked firewood Josh had spent a week splitting. Flames roared into the sky, hissing and spitting as just about the whole town applauded and cheered.
Josh swallowed hard as he walked up to the fire. His mom grabbed him and kissed him. “Merry Christmas, sweetie.”
He wondered how she’d feel when he was finished. He glanced at his phone. 10:00 pm exactly. “Eric, you’d better be watching,” he muttered to himself.
“Merry Christmas, mom,” he said out loud. “Merry Christmas, everybody!” he shouted to the crowd. Then he opened the bag in his hands. “I have an announcement to make!”
He raised the bag high over his head, and fast as a cat snatching a bird out of the air, he flicked all the powder inside into the fire, dancing around in a circle to get it spread out evenly in the blaze.
He gasped when he saw. It worked!
Rainbow flames sizzled up toward the silvery moon. He whooped as he jumped up and down pumping his fist. He glanced toward the woods and saw Eric wrapped up in a parka, walking toward him looking confused.
“I have an announcement to make!” Josh shouted again. “Those rainbow flames are me coming out proud, whether you like it or not!”
He heard a few confused laughs as Eric reached his side and everybody went quiet. “I’m NOT gay,” Eric said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I’m really not! You don’t have to do this for me.”
“I know you you’re not,” Josh said. “But I am! I’m gay, and I’m sorry I was such a dick. I was scared, but I’m not anymore.” He turned to the crowd. “Hear that, everybody!? I’m not scared!”
He hugged Eric and spun him around in a circle. Then he grabbed his mom and hugged her too. She looked pretty freaked out, but as the laughs in the crowd started turning into cheers, she whispered that she loved him.
James Finn is a former Air Force intelligence analyst, long-time LGBTQ activist, an alumnus of Queer Nation and Act Up NY, an essayist occasionally published in queer news outlets, and an “agented” novelist. Send questions, comments, and story ideas to [email protected].
This story is a response to Prism & Pen’s writing prompt Blaze Against the Dying of the Light
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