Chapter 5 #2
“It can only go so far. I think we’re reaching the peak. I don’t know why, but I’m feeling … calmer? Calmer than I have in days. Even with all we’ve seen in the last weeks, all we’ve heard, I’m getting calmer, not more scared.” He paused. “It’s almost like I’ve been infected by the hippies.”
Rodney tapped his hands against the steering wheel. “It’s the inevitability. We know there’s nothing we can do to change it. It’s almost like acceptance, I guess. You know what I’ve noticed? Cell phones.”
“What about them?”
“Look at the people out there,” Rodney said, nodding toward the windshield.
“See the people standing outside? See the people in their cars? You pass by people, and their heads are always down, looking at their phones. Always on their phones when they’re driving, when they’re walking, when they’re eating or on the shitter or watching TV.
That little magic rectangle filled with everything known to mankind.
All of our history. Everything we’ve learned.
It’s all there. But no one’s looking at their phones anymore.
Not really. It’s like it took the end of the world for people to look up and see each other. ”
“Amelia,” Don said.
“She saw people too,” Rodney said darkly. “But in a different way than most people. We aren’t good, Don. We aren’t bad, either. We just are, like most people. We’ve done things right. We’ve done things wrong. We’ve made catastrophic mistakes. But we’re not like Amelia. We have purpose.”
“She did too,” Don said. “Or she thought she did. Does that make her any more right or wrong than we are?”
“Well, yes, Don. We didn’t kill people.”
“When you put it like that, I suppose you’re right.”
They sat in traffic for a long time.
Swan Lake in Montana, with waters so clear the stones resting on the lakebed were visible. They’d been here before. Not quite in this area, but close. Bigfork wasn’t too far away, along with an even bigger lake: Flathead.
Something was wrong with the sky. As dusk settled, the reds and oranges of a sunset did not appear: rather, the sky was a shifting mixture of violet, green, and a blue so dark it almost looked black.
One could be forgiven if they thought it was the aurora borealis.
It wasn’t; the space anomaly had done something to the light in the sky, making it look surreal, as if from a dream.
The moon was full, bright. Don thought about what the Man in Charge had said, how he hadn’t given much thought to the moon beyond it being in the sky.
That had all changed, and Don wondered why he’d never really thought about it before, not like that.
When had he lost the curiosity and wonder found in youth?
Did it disappear with the cynicism that comes with age?
He’d spent so much time with his head down, trying to get through life.
Now, he never wanted to look away from the sky again.
They weren’t alone. The campground by the lake wasn’t full, but there were plenty of people around: some in cars, some in trucks, some in RVs bigger than Don and Rodney’s.
Tents had been set up and fires were going.
Music played from multiple different directions: country music, oldies, classical.
To their left, Garth Brooks sang. To their right, Run-DMC.
In the distance: someone had an electric keyboard and was playing “Clair de Lune.” That song again.
Don and Rodney had kept their distance. Some had waved at them as they’d gotten out of the RV, but most minded their own business.
Until the two young women came over.
They were sitting in ratty folding chairs. Canned soup on the fire. Chicken noodle. Warm juice. Slightly stale bread. A feast of champions. Don didn’t mind.
“Looks like we’re about to have company,” Rodney said quietly, and Don looked up beyond the fire.
The women appeared to be in their early twenties. One had long hair, the other’s cropped close to her skull, almost militarily so. Their hands were joined between them.
Don waved in greeting. “Hello, there.”
The woman with short hair spoke first. “Hi! We saw you over here and wanted to come say hello.”
“So,” the other woman said. “Hello.”
“I’m Amy. This is Becca.”
“Rodney,” Don said, pointing at his husband. “And I’m Don.”
Amy smiled at them. “It’s nice to meet you. Forgive me for being forward, but I saw you two kiss when you arrived. It’s nice to meet other queer people on the road.”
Becca rolled her eyes. “Just right out there with it. Spied on you two macking on each other, and now we’re here. Good job, Ames.”
“Gay,” Rodney said. “I don’t know about all the queer stuff.”
“He’s not fond of that word,” Don said. “We’ve heard it spat in anger and vitriol more times than we can count.”
“You can reclaim it all you like,” Rodney said, arms crossed. “And I won’t ever stop you from using it, but it can still be hard to hear sometimes. Also, I do not mack. Anything I do is with purpose.”
“I don’t think that’s quite what she meant,” Don said, patting his arm.
Rodney scowled at all of them. “Any lingo I’ve learned in the last twenty years has been against my will.”
“I love them,” Amy breathed.
“Oh dear god,” Becca said with a sigh. “Sorry about her. She’s just … exuberant.”
“So is he,” Don said as Rodney snorted. “Would you like to sit? We don’t have any more chairs, but you’re welcome to enjoy the fire.”
“Thanks,” Amy said, plopping down on the ground on the other side of the fire.
She kicked off her sandals, pointing her feet toward the flames.
“Sorry if I seem all over the place. I have ADHD and ran out of meds. Thought I’d stockpiled enough, but.
” She shrugged. “You know how it goes. You can’t really plan for the end of the world. ”
“Ain’t that the truth.” Becca grunted as she sat down next to Amy. She peered at them over the top of the flickering fire. “We haven’t met older people like us. Queer elders, you know?”
Rodney barked out a laugh. “Elders. Good lord.”
“She’s not wrong,” Don told him. He looked back at the women. “How long have you two been together?”
Becca and Amy glanced at each other for a long moment. “Since we were fourteen. Almost ten years now.”
“Goodness,” Don said. “That’s quite a long time for being so young.”
Amy beamed at them. “When you know, you know. She transferred into our school in Texas. I was smitten almost immediately. She didn’t like me at first.”
“Cheerleader,” Becca said, like she was proud. “Jock boyfriend. Preacher dad. The whole nine yards. Little Miss Americana.”
“And then you corrupted me,” Amy said gleefully.
“You’re damn right I did. Didn’t take much, either.”
Amy looked at Don and Rodney. “It was almost like deprogramming. You know what some people have to go through when they leave a cult? It was like that. Only this cult was Texas Christianity. I grew up being taught that a woman needed to find a husband as soon as possible. A woman’s place was in the home, making sure it was kept neat and orderly for her husband when he arrived from work.
Get loaded up with three children, church every Sunday and voilà!
You have the life of every woman in my family going back generations. ”
“She was almost there, too,” Becca said. “Her father was already talking about her wedding, how she was going to make a God-fearing wife and mother.”
“At fourteen,” Amy said, shaking her head. “Can you imagine what that’s like? In so many words, being told that you’re essentially breeding stock. I’ll tell you what, though. Getting finger-blasted the first time by a girl was certainly eye-opening.”
“Jesus Christ,” Rodney muttered.
“Sorry!” Amy squeaked as she slammed a hand over her mouth. “I didn’t mean to say it like that! I meant that she changed so much, things I didn’t even know could be changed.”
“Did you get found out?” Don asked.
Becca sighed. “Of course we did. When you’re that age, you think everything you’re doing is smart. And you get so wrapped up in it that you forget someone is always watching.”
“Daddy took me to church,” Amy said, picking up a fallen leaf and beginning to shred it.
“A bunch of other people were there from the congregation. They prayed over me for hours. Just kept going on and on and on. Talking about how I was hiding myself from the light of God. That I was turning away from Him. That if I returned, if I admitted my sins and turned away from them, all would be forgiven. They put their hands on my face, my shoulders, my arms, my legs. They tried to hold me down at one point, but I screamed and screamed. One of them—this old man with bad breath and bony fingers—told my father that I was possessed by the devil.”
“A lesbian devil,” Becca said, and Don smiled at the fierce pride in her voice.
“I stopped fighting,” Amy said. “I knew it was the only way out. So I pretended. I said that I heard God. That He spoke in me. He loved me, I told them. He loved me and wanted me to be in His image. I repented right then and there.” She leaned forward, shadows dancing across her face. “But it was all a lie.”
“Why?” Rodney asked.
She shrugged. “Because I had this thought. I don’t know why I hadn’t considered it before, but when it hit me, it was all I could think about.
We’re taught that God made us. That we are, in essence, His children.
And like all parents, He was going to be disappointed in me a lot, but nothing that couldn’t be forgiven if you wanted it bad enough.
But I kept thinking, well, if God didn’t want me to be this way, why am I?
If God thinks being queer is so terrible, why did He make it so we could be that? That’s when I realized the truth.”
“Which is?” Don asked.