Chapter 14
‘Well done,’ I say walking up to the stage to congratulate Finn. He was wonderful, so much passion about his work. The students started off unable to settle down, but once Finn got going, he had them hooked. I’m sure the event will get very flattering coverage, which is good news for the Carlos Wong Gallery and good news for me.
‘That was exhilarating,’ Finn says and I can almost feel the energy radiating from him. ‘Sorry about that small freak-out before. I love the enthusiasm these kids have.’
‘Did I just hear you say you love the enthusiasm here?’ Superintendent Jones asks as she steps closer to join us.
‘I was nervous being back in a school. But Sam helped me through it.’ He smiles at me and I pray my face isn’t turning red. ‘I loved hearing their questions.’
‘In that case, I’m hoping you’d consider being a part of our “Artists in the School” program. We find artists to work with students. It’s smaller than this event. More intimate. But it’s a very impactful program. I have an opening in December I need to fill at Harvey Milk School near Astor Place. Principal Chan would be thrilled to have you.’
‘They’re affiliated with the Hetrick-Martin Institute, right? For LGBTQ youth,’ I say.
‘Exactly. Under-resourced of course so we really need volunteers. Usually, we have two artists select a clip from a film or work of art to introduce and host a dialogue. What do you say?’
‘I didn’t even know a school like that existed. That’s amazing. I’d be honored,’ Finn says. Then he says something I do not expect. ‘We could both do it. What do you say, Sam?’
‘We could both do what?’ He can’t possibly think I would join him.
‘The Artists in the School program. Sam is a fantastic writer. He won an award for his short story. We could choose a film and talk about it together.’
‘I… ah…’ I can’t form words. What is he talking about? I’m not an artist. Certainly not an artist like Finn. Not anymore. I wouldn’t be any good with kids. They’ll see right through me and know I’m a fraud.
‘Thank you both. I’ll put you in touch with Principal Chan,’ the superintendent says and she walks away.
‘What did you just do?’ I ask as we walk out of the auditorium together.
‘You don’t want to help queer kids?’ I’m aware that he’s baiting me.
‘I want them to be helped, of course. I’m not sure I’m the right person to do the helping. She asked you to do it. Not me.’ The bell rings for classes to change and students pour out of the classrooms. Whatever hesitation he had about being back inside a school has lifted, but it doesn’t mean I can help with the Artists in the School program.
We exit the building and start walking down the street as the kerfuffle of kids changes from stereophonic to background noise. I’ll write a very sweet email to Superintendent Jones and explain that I’d love to make a donation but I’m not able to be part of the program at this time.
‘You know how to get back to the city?’ I ask.
‘Sure, but we aren’t going back just yet,’ he says and keeps walking. ‘I believe the deal was I speak at this event and you treat me to a famous hot dog. Two, if I have my facts straight. According to my map, it’s just that way.’ He swings his arm around and then points toward the ocean. I’m not sure spending more time with Finn is a good idea, but I did promise him hot dogs. Robert always says the easiest way to create a great brand is to get to know the client and keep them happy, so hot dogs it is.
Within a few minutes we go from walking down an urban thoroughfare to strolling down a boardwalk along the Atlantic Ocean. The salt air suffocates the smell of exhaust and anger that lingers on the Brooklyn streets. The Wonder Wheel with its swinging cars slowly rotates and the wireframe of the defunct parachute drop looms over Luna Park just ahead of us. I suddenly remember something my mother told me.
‘My parents had their first date here,’ I say as the wind brushes my face. ‘I forgot about it until I saw Luna Park and the roller coaster there.’ I point ahead to the wooden structure in the distance beyond the Ferris wheel.
‘Is that the Cyclone?’ Finn asks.
‘Yeah. My father said he wanted to give my mother the thrill of a lifetime. She was terrified but she thought she couldn’t disappoint him since they came all the way out here. She said she had a feeling that she would be safe with my dad so she did it.’ I think about Paul and how the on-again, off-again thing made me feel like we were always in jeopardy. Once his divorce is final all of that will change.
‘Do your parents still come out here?’ Finn asks.
‘No. My dad died soon after I was born.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he says. That’s what people say when they find out you lost your dad as a kid. It was so long ago and being a dad-less kid is just part of who I am. Maybe I miss the idea of a dad. I try not to think about it but I’m sure it’s the reason I date older guys. I guess it’s kind of obvious to everyone else even if it doesn’t always sink in with me.
‘It’s always just been this way so it doesn’t feel unusual to me. It feels normal.’
We walk for a few seconds and he says, ‘We should do it. We should ride the Cyclone.’
‘No,’ I say quickly. ‘I’m going to eat a hot dog filled with so many carcinogens I couldn’t count them all. One life-threatening event a day is my limit.’ We’re close enough to the roller coaster that we can hear the click-click of the car as it climbs the first hill and then the screams of people as they whip around the creaking track. I have no idea how that thing is still standing. I’d never risk my life on it. I hate any kind of ‘thrill ride’. Life is scary enough, thank you.
‘But it looks like fun,’ he says tilting his head. Damn, he’s charming. I wonder if I should nip this in the bud.
‘My ex-boyfriend is coming to visit in a few weeks. I want to make sure I’m in one piece,’ I say as we arrive at Nathan’s.
‘An ex-boyfriend?’ he asks.
Did I say ex? I don’t think I did, but maybe. I’m so used to thinking about him as my ex-boyfriend over the past nine months I guess it just slipped out. ‘It’s complicated,’ I say, hoping the documentarian in him won’t press further. At least I let him know, and the fact is Paul and I won’t actually be a couple officially again until January when his divorce is final. ‘What about you? Are you with someone?’ There’s no denying he’s hot. I’m sure he has people lined up to date him.
‘Nope. I was seeing someone in New Orleans but he cheated on me with a bartender,’ he says.
‘I’m sorry. That sucks.’
‘I wasn’t surprised when it happened. You have to bring your whole self to a relationship to make it work. We couldn’t connect.’ I’m shocked. He’s been so easy to connect with. Too easy. I find myself holding on to my seat when we’re together.
‘In the end it all helped me get out of New Orleans and move up here. I always wanted to try living in New York and now I am and I’m even about to eat one of the famous Nathan’s Hot Dogs.’ He points above him to the green-and-yellow awning with the name of the establishment in green script outlined by a red oval. A neon sign of a hot dog dressed in a chef’s hat and wearing a bun flashes, Take Home Food .
‘You know you can buy these at any grocery store,’ I say realizing I’m being a total downer.
‘I know but that’s not the point. We’re here in Coney Island. Look at the waves, the rides. Smell that sea air and the steam from the grill. This is something people dream about. Being right here. Right, where we have the privilege of standing.’
I look around trying to see it through his eyes, putting my jaded New Yorker lens aside. Even in September, Coney Island is a magical place. But not in a shiny Disney way. In a gritty, more authentic style. I watch an older couple walk hand in hand down the boardwalk and then a woman roller-skates past us blaring disco hits out of the speaker she’s carrying. Beyond that the waves keep the rhythm of everything rolling in and out just like they did when my parents were here on their first date.
‘Right at this moment,’ Finn says, looking out across the boardwalk and seeing the same view I am, ‘there is probably someone in some place you’ve never even thought about.’ His voice is soft and dreamy. His Southern accent noticeable around the edges. ‘That person is so far away but they’re wondering what it would be like to be right here. Right now. On the boardwalk in famous Coney Island, and you’re the one actually here. How lucky are you?’
I haven’t felt very lucky lately. First Paul dumped me and then all the rejections from the publishers. But with Paul back and the possibility of escaping the black hole of publishing with a full-time job at Brands, maybe my luck is changing.
A woman in a housecoat, with her hair in a kerchief and smoking a cigar, walks a yappy Chihuahua in front of us. The dog barks and then stops and looks right at me. The pup is silent for a second and then lets out an even louder barrage of barks. ‘Woof, woof, woof, woof!’ The woman shrugs, puffs on her cigar and they continue down the boardwalk.
I can see Angelika back at Plant Daddy in my mind. Her Tarot card with the barking dog at the edge of a cliff. What was that card warning? I’m sure the Chihuahua is only telling me not to eat too many hot dogs. Right now, that’s the only real danger in my life as far as I can see.
‘Mustard and sauerkraut or ketchup and relish?’ I ask turning to Finn.
‘How about one of each?’ He walks toward the yellow-and-green awning but I can still hear the Chihuahua barking in the distance.