Charles and Jr., 4th Grade Drama Queens

A fragrant aroma filled the kitchen as Jr’s mother open the deep fryer. She grabbed her tongs and carefully removed each croquete, placing them on the paper toweled plate. Jr and his best friend Charles swung their legs under the kitchen table as they raced each other to finish their math homework.

“Done!” Charles slammed his pencil down.

“Ugh, I only have two problems left. How do you always beat me?” Jr asked, hiding how impressed he was with his friend’s division skills.

“It’s hard to explain, but I have a system. I dunno; it makes sense in my head.”

“Teach me.”

“ ‘member when I tried to teach you my adding trick in 2nd grade? It’s kinda the same thing.”

“Oh never mind, then.” Though they received nearly all the same grades, Jr knew Charles was smarter than him. Absorbing his knowledge was just one of the reasons he liked having him around.

Pleased that the boys had finished their homework, Jr’s mother placed the now cool plate of snacks in front of them, two put aside for herself and her daughter. “I’d be worried about you boys finishing so fast if it wasn’t usually right.” She had long stopped checking her children’s homework, believing they’d catch their own mistakes. “Now, tell me more about this play? Your class is putting on the Wizard of Oz?”

Charles laughed. “No, Mrs. Almeida. It’s the Wiz.”

“I’m not understanding; that’s what I said.” Her English was nearly perfect, but cultural references were still lost on her.

“The Wiz. It’s like the Wizard of Oz, but the black one. My mom says it’s a negro classic. The music is soooo good.”

“Yeah, I want to be the Scarecrow,” Jr shouted.

Charles frowned. “I wanted to be the Scarecrow.” Jr started to offer up the role to him, but Charles interrupted. “That’s ok. I can be the Tinman. I’ve been practicing the robot, so I think I’ll be good for it.” He pushed himself from the table and began doing a decent pop-and-lock routine. Jr’s mom clapped along as Jr improvised a beat. When he spun around and stuck his hands up signifying he was done, he was met with light applause. Charles took a bite from his croquete as a reward. “Mmm, Puerto Rican food is so good.”

“No, Charlie. I keep telling you, we’re Portuguese,” she corrected the child, trying not to scold him.

“Por-te-guys. Got it. I’m sorry, Mrs Almeida. It won’t happen again.” She smiled, appreciative he was at least trying. Then the doorbell rang. “Mom!”

“I’ll get it. You stay in here and finish your snack. I don’t want crumbs on my carpet.” Jr’s mother answered the door and hugged Charles’ mother. “Deirdre, you’re early. I wasn’t expecting you for another half hour.”

“Traffic on the freeway was surprisingly light today. Did the boys finish their homework?” she asked.

“Yes!” Jr answered from the kitchen. “Charles and I are gonna be the Scarecrow.” The boys chuckled.

A worried look flashed across her face. “I see the school finally sent home the flyers for the school musical this year.”

“Are you ok? Charles told me you liked the Wizard.” Jr’s mom had a knack for noticing facial ticks.

“Huh?” Charles’ mother had to think for a moment. “Oh, the Wiz, yeah. I love it.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Charles’ mom shifted her weight, unsure if now was the right time to bring it up, but there was no reason not too. So she whispered and leaned in. “Yolanda, don’t you ever feel like our boys should spend a little time apart? Pursue their own interests.” Jr’s mother stood still, her brow lowering a bit. “I just think Charles and Hector could benefit from finding themselves as individuals.”

“If you’re afraid my son is going to contaminant your son, then maybe you should enroll Charles in the AfterCare program and I’ll stop bringing him over here.” Jr’s mom began to walk away.

“That’s not wha--”

“No, it is. Listen to me, Deirdre.” She turned around to make sure the boys weren’t eavesdropping. “Let the boys be who they are. Society is changing. They’ll be accepted for who they are.”

“But it isn’t right!” Charles’ mother shouted. She covered her mouth, immediately ashamed of what she revealed about herself.

Jr’s mother sighed. “Charles, I think it’s time for you to go, buddy.” She turned back around to the adult in the room as Charles and Jr began to tiptoe into the room, holding hands. “He can keep coming the rest of the week, but I think you’ll be a lot more at ease if you looked into the after school program.”

Charles and Jr hugged goodbye, unaware that their friendship was soon to grow distant.

Mother Begs to Know

“So, do you have a boyfriend?” Annalise choked on her peas, thankful she didn’t still have a fork in her mouth. The question caught her off guard. It was the first time her mother had asked her in 23 years. After wiping the tears from her eyes and clearing her throat, Annalise looked at her mother. She hadn’t moved her head from resting in her hand as the table supported them. “So, do you?” Diane’s eyes remained trained on her daughter, determined to uncover the truth.

Annalise felt a bead of sweat form on her forehead. She hadn’t planned on coming out to her mother today, but it was going to happen eventually. She liked the relationship she was in and imagined it would only grow stronger as time went on. “Um. Well…” Annalise took a sip of blue Kool-Aid. “I-I do.”

Her mother sat up in her chair. “Oh?” Diane looked her only child up and down. She was still wearing her grandfather’s military boots, her olive pants stuffed into them. A baggy black band t-shirt dressed her top half and a terrible bowl cut sat on top of her head. No earrings, no makeup. She suddenly felt bad for stereotyping her daughter. “I just thought… I’m happy to hear that. What’s his name?”

“Joan.”

“That’s an interesting name for a boy.” Diane prepared herself for Joan’s true identity to be revealed.

Annalise noticed her mother shift and knew it was time to rip the bandaid off. “Yeah, his parents are hippies. Roberto’s parents find his name weird, too, though.” Taking a gulp of Kool-Aid, she looked away from her mother.

“I’m sorry, who’s Roberto?”

“Huh?” Annalise began to laugh nervously. “Oh, Roberto? Yeah, that’s my other boyfriend.” This time she stuffed her mouth with the chicken breast on her plate, not bothering to cut a piece off.

The clock on the wall ticked until Diane could shake off her shock and respond. “You have two boyfriends? But Patty saw you downtown with a long haired blonde woman two weeks ago.”

Annalise understood why she had been summoned to her childhood home with her favorite meal. She already regretted consuming the lemon-zested poultry in one go, maybe more so than revealing her secret. “Listen, I know you haven’t really known me to date, but things have been taking off since college. And no, that was Joan. He likes to experiment with androgyny. His hair is gorgeous, though. Super fun to play with.”

“I just have so many questions. Do these men even know about each other?”

“Oh.” Annalise had hoped her mother would have assumed the last piece, but Diane always lost their family games of Clue. “We all date each other. It’s a… it’s called a throuple. Like a couple, except,” she holds three fingers up, “there are three of us. I’m usually the one in the middle.” She slapped her left hand to her forehead.

“What is that supposed to mean: always in the middle? Annalise, what kind of hedonism have you gotten yourself into?”

Annalise took a deep breath. “Alright. I’ll start at the beginning. I met Joan and Roberto at a friend’s party a few months ago. They were this adorable interracial couple in a sea of bland Caucasians, so I was drawn to engage them. Roberto’s hilarious and Joan’s not too bad for a pun or intellectual comment either. With all the good energy, we decided to take a shot to celebrate our new friendship. And then another. And another. And maybe two more.”

“I’m still not happy you drink so much,” Diane interjected.

“I’m in my twenties. I might grow out of it,” Annalise shrugged. “By the end of the party, I didn’t feel like going home and being alone. Joan and Roberto invited me back to their place for a couple more drinks and to play a card game. Obviously I should have known better than to follow two random men back to their apartment, but I was feeling adventurous. And they were gay; so I let my guard down. Well, almost as soon as we get to their place, they start making out. I find their bar, make myself a drink, and sit on the couch. Something about watching them kind of got me going. So I…. I, man. ...I started to touch myself, okay?”

“Annalise!”

“Listen, you said I could talk to you about anything, right? Well, this is it. So… I’m touching myself, as most women do on occasion. Roberto must make out with his eyes open because he started chuckling. I blushed and apologized. He told me there was no need as he joined me on the couch. He placed his hand on my knee and jolts tingled up my spine. There was immediate chemistry between us. So, naturally, like twenty-somethings, we started making out. Before long, Joan was kissing my neck. I turned to kiss him. And… I’ve been a part of their relationship ever since.”

Diane pushed herself away from the table and walked towards the sink, her back to her daughter. “I don’t know what I’m more shocked about: that you’re in a relationship with two gay men or that you waited this long to tell me.”

“Well, actually, they’re bisexual.”

Diane cocked her head. “Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. Listen, Annalise. As long as you’re happy and safe, I suppose I’m fine with whomever you end up with. Granted I thought I would be saying this about a woman and not two men. But you are happy with them?”

“Very. It’s not something I would have ever expected, but the way we are around each other, it’s like we’re all from the same peapod.” She pushed the last three peas on her plate together.

“That’s good.” Diane walked back to the table and hugged her daughter. “Honestly, I’m a little jealous. I’ve never had a threesome myself. One of the unfortunate things about marrying your father so young, I suppose. You haven’t told him yet, have you?”

“No… I was hoping you would for me?”

Her mother laughed. “Oh, honey. Fat chance.”