Chapter 17 Janice and the Tale of Two Planes
Janice and the Tale of Two Planes
Imiss spending lunchtimes with Mags and Neel.
The new normal isn’t bad, but eating lunch with Paul and Latica is quite a different experience.
For one thing, there is a lot less talking and a lot less hitting during our lunches.
Sometimes, we sit in silence together. But even when we are not talking, there is an understanding and a closeness forming between the three of us.
Recently, I’ve been thinking about coming out to them, but it seems a bit odd to make the announcement when Paul and Latica never talk about boys or girls.
Dating and romance never come up in our conversations.
I have no idea if they are gay, straight, bi, asexual, or what.
Mostly, we talk about school, books, and politics, so I’m thrown off guard when Paul asks, out of the blue, if Latica and I want to have lunch with him this weekend.
I’m not sure how to fit this in. I spend Saturdays with Mags and Neel, and lately I’ve been going to Starbucks on Sundays to do my homework and hang out with Hector on his breaks. I say yes anyway.
I bite my nails and stress over what to tell Mags and Neel.
They know about Paul and Latica, but have they considered this new friendship might begin to compete for my hangout time with them?
To be honest, I haven’t. I assumed we’d be school friends, but it now appears we are moving into the more traditional friend category.
I chomp down on my nails. I guess there are worse problems I could have.
Having too many friends shouldn’t be one of them.
Saturday morning, I head out to meet my new friends.
A fresh batch of hives appears on my forearms, and I wish I were wearing a long-sleeve shirt to hide them.
Why am I such a nervous wreck these days?
I hated to do it, but I lied to Mags and Neel and told them I couldn’t hang out today.
I said I had to spend the day with my father; it’s a plausible excuse they didn’t question.
It’s been a few months since I’ve seen Dad, so we are overdue for spending time together.
The problem will come later when Dad eventually comes calling.
That’s when I’ll have to explain to Mags and Neel why I am seeing him twice in such a short period of time.
That never happens, which will make them suspicious, especially Mags, but I can’t think about it now. That worry can come later.
Paul texted me this morning with the time to meet and the address of where to go.
Despite my nerves, I’m intrigued and excited about the upcoming afternoon.
We’re going to a local airport to have lunch and watch the planes take off.
This is something I have never done before.
I wonder if this will be boring or fun? What will we talk about for such a long period of time?
Our previous interactions have been limited to the hour lunch break.
I pull into the Montgomery County Airpark right at noon.
It’s much smaller than I imagined it would be.
I’ve only been to the Baltimore/Washington International Airport before.
I suppose you can’t compare the two; it’s not apples to apples.
There’s a smattering of small, private planes scattered around and a few older men talking in a circle.
They glance my way, but they don’t appear to be friendly at all.
Their looks seem to say, What are you doing here, kid?
Scram! I’m out of my comfort zone and have a sudden urge to get back in my car and go home.
I’ll call Mags and Neel and tell them Dad canceled.
Maybe we can go to the movies. The alien in my stomach awakens and claws at my insides to get out.
Scratch, scratch, scratch. I am about to leave, like I did on the first day of school, when I hear Paul calling my name.
“Simon! Simon, we’re over here.” I see Paul and Latica in the distance sitting at a table on a wood deck attached to the building. Latica smiles and waves, and I feel guilty for almost ditching them. As I walk over, I adjust my attitude and wave back enthusiastically. The alien goes dormant.
“Welcome to the Airport Cafe, Simon,” Latica says in her sweet, whispery voice.
I look around and notice happy people having lunch on the deck. A small red-and-white plane speeds down the runway. This is cool! I pull out a chair and plop down. We are by far the youngest people here, but up on the deck, no one seems to mind.
“How did you ever find this place?” I ask.
Paul explains that he has been obsessed with planes since he was a small boy. He said his father used to bring him here when he was little to have a burger and fries and watch the planes take off.
“We used to come every weekend,” he says. “But my father died a few years ago.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I reply.
“No worries. I’m not sad anymore. He died of cancer, and now Latica and I come here sometimes. You know…together but also separate.”
“Hey, I hope I’m not being rude, but have you two ever thought about dating?” I ask.
They chuckle.
“No, Simon, I clarified this back at school, we’re just friends. Boys and girls can be friends, you know,” Paul explains between sips of soda.
My face flushes red as, once again, I put my foot in my mouth. So, I’m very happy when the waitress approaches the table. She puts her hands on her hips.
“Paul, are you going to introduce me to your new friend?” she says.
“Janice, this is Simon. He is a new student at our school. He moved to Rockville over the summer from Columbia.”
“Colombia! How exotic! I love their coffee. That’s a long way away from Mary’s Land. Do you miss your home, Simon?”
I’m about to speak when Paul interrupts me.
“No, Janice, not Colombia, South America. Columbia, Maryland.”
“Oh!” she says, embarrassed.
She asks what I would like to drink. Paul and Latica already have sodas in front of them, so I order my usual Sprite. She smiles and walks away.
There’s a weird tension in the air, and we sit in awkward silence. I can’t stand it any longer.
“Paul, wasn’t it rude to talk to the waitress that way?”
Since I’ve put my foot in my mouth twice already, the third time’s the charm, as they say.
“No, Simon. She’s not a waitress. I mean, she is a waitress, but she is also my mother.”
“But you called her Janice,” I say. “I’ve never met anyone who calls their mother by her first name.”
More awkward stillness follows, but, fortunately, Latica breaks the silence.
“Yeah, it’s weird, and it takes getting used to, but you will. I found it strange at first too.”
I slowly nod, and Paul looks away. I wonder if I hurt his feelings.
“Look, Simon,” Latica says, saving the day. “We’re weird. We are socially awkward. We are the outcasts. Are you one of us or not?”
I answer with a big smile. Paul and Latica smile back.
Paul’s mom brings my Sprite, and we order lunch.
Burgers and fries all around. The tension dissipates, and I relax watching the planes take off and land.
It’s a pleasant atmosphere to have lunch at the airpark.
The weather is perfect; it’s not too hot.
Autumn will be here soon, and that’s my favorite season. I’m having a nice time.
Janice brings our plates of food. “Now, you kids, enjoy! Best burgers in all of Mary’s Land.”
I tell Paul that I love the way his mom calls Maryland, “Mary’s Land.” Paul, however, does not love it.
“The state is called Maryland,” he says, “not Mary’s Land.”
Paul tells us that Janice took a weekend job at the airport cafe after his father died.
“We don’t need the money. I assume she did it as a way to share in my interests. Yeah, I suppose it’s a nice gesture when I stop to think about it. I should be more understanding.”
He seems to think that over and takes a bite of his burger.
Before things get awkward again, I blurt out, “Want to know something weird about me?”
“Sure,” Paul says sheepishly.
“I have two lesbian moms and a straight dad,” I say.
“And I recently came out as gay. Recently, as in only a few days ago. I was terrified for years to admit that I might be gay because I was afraid people would judge my moms and me too. I imagined the horrible things they would say, like my moms turned me gay or that I was what happens when you don’t have a mother and father in the home.
Stupid, right? I know this now, but it was a process to get where I am today.
See, I’m a weirdo too! So, guys, this is me…
coming out to you. I’m coming out to my friends. ”
“Well, duh, Simon! Of course you’re gay,” Paul says. “You spend the whole sixth period staring at that boy, PJ. I’m sure the whole damn class knows you’re gay.”
“Oh, crap! Is it that obvious?”
“Uh, yeah,” he says between bites of his hamburger.
“But no one cares. It’s drama class, after all.
I’m probably the only straight guy in the whole class.
I have no idea why I even took the class.
I’m not interested in acting, you know. But, as for you being gay, I think it’s great.
The world is way too overpopulated. You help keep the numbers down.
Too many babies are being born these days. I’m looking at you, Mormons.”
We all laugh, and Latica quietly reminds Paul that if I want kids, I could hire a surrogate. Paul shakes his head.
“Yeah, I suppose he could,” he says, “but I don’t think Simon’s the type. The only thing he seems to want is that boy, PJ. And he wants him bad! Really bad!”
We laugh some more.
“So, now you know I’m gay. What about the two of you?”
“Well, I don’t know,” Latica says, quieter than usual.
She puts her burger down and folds her hands in her lap.
“To tell you the truth, I don’t think about it much.
I spend most of my time obsessing over school and where I might go to college.
And books! I like my nonfiction books. I also like to watch documentaries.
If I must answer your question, I think I’m attracted to boys and girls.
But I’m not sure. Neither Paul nor I have ever dated anyone before. ”
“It’s counterproductive,” he says. “I’m not interested in dating during my teenage years. I love planes and aviation in general, and that’s enough for me right now. But you will be happy to know I have the rest of my life mapped out, and I know exactly when I will begin dating.”
“Well, don’t keep us waiting, Paul. Do tell. Inquiring minds want to know,” I say.
Paul sits up straighter in his chair and readies himself like he is about to go live on TV. His voice drops to a lower octave, and he sounds like an infomercial.
“After high school, I will go to an Ivy League college to study law. Then, I’ll move to Denver, Colorado and get a very high paying job.
Only when I’m established in my job and new town will I start searching for a mate, or as you kids call it, dating.
I will be a millionaire by the age of thirty and will then purchase my very own private plane.
I will work long hours during the week, but I will fly my plane on the weekends for relaxation.
At the age of thirty-two, I will marry a woman who will be aged somewhere between twenty-six and twenty-eight.
We will have exactly one kid when I am thirty-four.
At this point, I will get a vasectomy. I plan to retire early at the age of fifty-five and spend my senior years flying my planes.
Did you catch the plural? I plan to own two planes by the time I retire. ”