made myself perfectly clear?”
Indeed he had.
21) Don’t ask and don’t tell
N OAH AND I cleaned up his room, and it was not long before he was asking questions.
What’s wrong, Daddy?
We’re going to have some visitors today. I want the house to look nice.
Okay.
It’s important.
Why?
Because they’re from the government.
What do they want?
They’re worried about you.
Why?
They just are. They want to make sure you’re okay.
Did I do something wrong?
No.
Are you sure?
Yes.
Am I in trouble?
No.
Are you sure?
Yes.
Then why are they coming?
It’s their job. They have to. But it will be all right. I just want the house to look nice so they don’t have anything to complain about. And I want you to be careful when you talk to them.
Why?
Just be careful. Don’t tell them you sleep with us sometimes. They don’t like that sort of thing.
Why?
They just don’t.
Are you mad at me for sleeping with you?
Of course not.
I was scared.
I know.
I didn’t mean to make you mad.
You didn’t make me mad. Just don’t tell them anything like that.
Why?
You’re too big to be sleeping with your dad. You’re supposed to sleep by yourself.
I know. I’m sorry.
Don’t be sorry.
I don’t want you to get in trouble.
We’re not in trouble.
I know I’m no good.
Don’t say that.
It’s true.
Sweetie, please don’t say that.
I’m not like the other boys. There’s something wrong with me.
There is not. You’re funny, you’re smart, you’re handsome like your daddy, and everyone likes you.
You’re just saying that.
I’m saying it because it’s true. Now help me clean up .
We picked up his dirty clothes, ferried the whole lot of them to the washroom.
Are they going to take me away?
No , I signed. Why would you say that?
K said the government takes you away because your parents are bad and they make you live somewhere else.
They’re not going to do anything like that.
Did I do something to get you in trouble?
No.
You’re not lying?
Cross my heart. Swear to God . I made the sign of the cross to show him I was sincere.
Then why are they coming?
I don’t know , I admitted. Somebody complained about us, told them to investigate.
Why?
Because I’m gay.
You like other boys?
Yes.
So?
Some people don’t like it.
They don’t want you to have a boyfriend?
No.
Why ?
Just help me clean up.
22) A visit from the DHS
M Y FIRST mistake that day was to think home cooking would somehow make our apartment seem more normal, more “real,” as opposed to the “false home” we lived in, given that Jackson and I were raging homosexuals. Or… whatever. Since Italian food is about all I know how to cook, I started early by boiling down tomatoes to make real homemade sauce. Nothing said “mother” and “apple pie” and “wholesome family values” like homemade pasta sauce.
Jackson worked a disappearing act on the cornrows in Noah’s hair for fear that it might look “unusual.” I trimmed my goatee a little, and I only do that for funerals and presidential elections. As noon approached, we dressed in wrinkle-free clothes, and I even went so far as to wear a belt and trim my fingernails and put on socks.
While we waited, I tossed a salad and cooked pasta, sausages, and peppers, intending to invite the lady from the DHS to dinner, knowing she would refuse for professional reasons but thinking this would put me in a good light. That nice man invited me to stay for lunch. Home cooking! He must be a wonderful father! He must be —
I’d forgotten I wasn’t Paula Deen.
At about ten minutes to noon, when our collective nerves had reached somewhat of a fever pitch, I used potholders to lift the large pot of sauce off the burner and move it to the counter to cool. When I turned around, Noah was suddenly—inexplicably—right behind me, dressed to the nines and looking like a cast member on Eight Is Enough .
Several things happened rather simultaneously.
“Hah!”
Indeed he had.
21) Don’t ask and don’t tell
N OAH AND I cleaned up his room, and it was not long before he was asking questions.
What’s wrong, Daddy?
We’re going to have some visitors today. I want the house to look nice.
Okay.
It’s important.
Why?
Because they’re from the government.
What do they want?
They’re worried about you.
Why?
They just are. They want to make sure you’re okay.
Did I do something wrong?
No.
Are you sure?
Yes.
Am I in trouble?
No.
Are you sure?
Yes.
Then why are they coming?
It’s their job. They have to. But it will be all right. I just want the house to look nice so they don’t have anything to complain about. And I want you to be careful when you talk to them.
Why?
Just be careful. Don’t tell them you sleep with us sometimes. They don’t like that sort of thing.
Why?
They just don’t.
Are you mad at me for sleeping with you?
Of course not.
I was scared.
I know.
I didn’t mean to make you mad.
You didn’t make me mad. Just don’t tell them anything like that.
Why?
You’re too big to be sleeping with your dad. You’re supposed to sleep by yourself.
I know. I’m sorry.
Don’t be sorry.
I don’t want you to get in trouble.
We’re not in trouble.
I know I’m no good.
Don’t say that.
It’s true.
Sweetie, please don’t say that.
I’m not like the other boys. There’s something wrong with me.
There is not. You’re funny, you’re smart, you’re handsome like your daddy, and everyone likes you.
You’re just saying that.
I’m saying it because it’s true. Now help me clean up .
We picked up his dirty clothes, ferried the whole lot of them to the washroom.
Are they going to take me away?
No , I signed. Why would you say that?
K said the government takes you away because your parents are bad and they make you live somewhere else.
They’re not going to do anything like that.
Did I do something to get you in trouble?
No.
You’re not lying?
Cross my heart. Swear to God . I made the sign of the cross to show him I was sincere.
Then why are they coming?
I don’t know , I admitted. Somebody complained about us, told them to investigate.
Why?
Because I’m gay.
You like other boys?
Yes.
So?
Some people don’t like it.
They don’t want you to have a boyfriend?
No.
Why ?
Just help me clean up.
22) A visit from the DHS
M Y FIRST mistake that day was to think home cooking would somehow make our apartment seem more normal, more “real,” as opposed to the “false home” we lived in, given that Jackson and I were raging homosexuals. Or… whatever. Since Italian food is about all I know how to cook, I started early by boiling down tomatoes to make real homemade sauce. Nothing said “mother” and “apple pie” and “wholesome family values” like homemade pasta sauce.
Jackson worked a disappearing act on the cornrows in Noah’s hair for fear that it might look “unusual.” I trimmed my goatee a little, and I only do that for funerals and presidential elections. As noon approached, we dressed in wrinkle-free clothes, and I even went so far as to wear a belt and trim my fingernails and put on socks.
While we waited, I tossed a salad and cooked pasta, sausages, and peppers, intending to invite the lady from the DHS to dinner, knowing she would refuse for professional reasons but thinking this would put me in a good light. That nice man invited me to stay for lunch. Home cooking! He must be a wonderful father! He must be —
I’d forgotten I wasn’t Paula Deen.
At about ten minutes to noon, when our collective nerves had reached somewhat of a fever pitch, I used potholders to lift the large pot of sauce off the burner and move it to the counter to cool. When I turned around, Noah was suddenly—inexplicably—right behind me, dressed to the nines and looking like a cast member on Eight Is Enough .
Several things happened rather simultaneously.
“Hah!”
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