151 Days Read online

  As I got out of my car, the man at the front door took my keys and said he would make sure my car was taken care of. I am not sure if the man’s only job was being a valet, but it wouldn’t surprise me if it was. Dolores met me at the front door. Her dress was tasteful while being fashionable at the same time. I knew from experience that if one was to check, there would be no label in it. The dress was one of a kind, designed and made expressly for her. She was older than me by a few years, but she was wearing those years better than I was mine, in my opinion. After all, money might not be able to buy happiness, but it can do wonders at keeping your face looking youthful, which is the next-best thing sometimes.

  “Dorothy,” she said sympathetically while moving toward me. She gave me two air kisses and grasped my hand, which for her was positively gushing. “I am so glad you called.” She was too cultured for me to know if she meant what she said. Instead, she ushered me into the house. “I’ve been thinking of you.”

  I knew that wasn’t a lie—after all, Dolores and I shared an odd kind of kinship now. One that in a million years I would have never asked for.

  “Thank you,” I told her, walking into the stadium she called her living room. “It’s been a tough couple of days.”

  A crystal pitcher on a silver tray put my sweet tea setup to shame. There was more money on the table than in my entire kitchen.

  “Please,” she said, gesturing to her one-of-a-kind, brought from England, chesterfield. “Have a seat.”

  I suddenly felt like I was wearing a flour sack as we waited for her man to pour us both a drink. Once that arduous chore was done, he was dismissed, and she turned to me. “I heard the news. I am so sorry for your loss.”

  I nodded and smiled as I took a small sip of what was the best tea I had ever tasted. “Thank you. It’s been trying.”

  “Anything we can do for you,” she added as she held the glass but didn’t drink herself. She held it like a prop, and for some reason it annoyed me.

  “Well, I did come to talk to you about something,” I said, taking another sip, readying myself. She didn’t ask, instead raising one perfectly shaped eyebrow in question. “It’s about Charlotte Axeworthy.”

  I saw her face darken as the past came rushing forward to overwhelm us both.

  The Mathisons had three children: two girls and a boy, all of them absolutely perfect in every way possible, of course. The girls were born first, and their arrival was akin to that of royalty in the manner in which they were introduced to the town. Louise and Henrietta were given any little thing they desired and became quite spoiled because of it. They were nine when their little brother Riley was born, but by that time the family knew they had made mistakes with the girls.

  The Mathisons had kept the girls isolated from the rest of the town, making them terrible snobs. Instead of attending public school, they were homeschooled, which prevented them from actually learning how to socialize with their peers. By the time they were old enough for junior high, they were sent to a private school outside of Dallas in hopes of instilling some kind of manners in them. But while they struggled with the girls, the Mathisons’ plan for Riley was different altogether.

  He was allowed to attend public school with the other kids, and the difference was immediate. If someone had asked me if there was a crown prince of Foster, I would have admitted that Riley was the clear choice. He was an adorable kid with manners and a grace that only came from a good family, and he was a town favorite. He excelled in sports and was soon quarterback of the Foster High Cowboys, a role no one was surprised to see.

  What was surprising, though, was his attendance at a meeting of gay and bisexual kids during lunch with Mrs. Axeworthy.

  When his mother found out, she came to the school board and made it quite clear she was not pleased with the situation and wanted it corrected immediately. And when she said “corrected,” she meant stopped as soon as possible. She approached me, informing me of her son’s attendance and how upset she was that this kind of thing had happened on school grounds. She said the group was confusing Riley, and that if it was not shut down and the teacher dealt with, we would be talking with her lawyer.

  I knew Charlotte even then, and though she was—and is—a bit eccentric, she is a great teacher who means no harm. I calmed Dolores down, and we came to a compromise. We would discipline the teacher privately, the meetings would, of course, stop immediately, and in exchange, she would not press charges or bring suit against the school. I reminded her that any legal action would make the papers and undoubtedly include Riley.

  And so with a little work and thirty pieces of metaphorical silver, the problem went away.

  “What about her?” Dolores asked. Her tone of voice was the same she would use when asking about a convicted murderer.

  “You need to come forward and have Mr. Raymond remove the mark on her record.” I said it in one breath and without pause, because I was pretty sure she was about to throw the tumbler in her hand at me.

  “I certainly do not,” she countered.

  “But, Dolores, Riley turned out to be gay anyways. Charlotte Axeworthy had nothing to do with that.” I paused a beat to let the words sink in. “Surely you can see that.”

  She said nothing as she looked at me like I was an insect. “Is this why you came here?” Her voice was dismissing, and I knew my time was limited. “If it was, you have wasted your time and mine.” Sure enough, her man appeared with my coat in hand. I was impressed with his timing.

  “Dolores,” I implored her. “Kelly was gay too. It was why he killed himself. This is important.”

  “Riley did not kill himself,” she reminded me.

  “No, but don’t you think the people who did kill him might have paused if there was more understanding in this town about what it meant to be gay?”

  And there it was, the topic that no one broached with Dolores Mathison, and if you did, you didn’t do it more than once.

  Riley had gone to college out of state and ended up bringing home a boy whom he was deeply in love with. I am sure his family was aghast, but if they wanted to be in their son’s life, I am sure they didn’t have much choice. It was common knowledge in town about the two, and to be honest, no one said much about it. They kept to themselves and seemed madly in love, so people respected their choice and let them be.

  Until someone purposely rammed Riley with their car, killing him almost instantly in the middle of nowhere. There were quiet rumors all over town about what happened, but there was not much said out loud. The Mathison name bought a ridiculous amount of silence, and they buried their son in private and went on with their lives. It wasn’t mentioned in the paper, but I know from Stephen that the witness accounts at the time said the driver had purposely aimed for Riley and called out a pretty nasty slur about his sexuality.

  In other words, the guy swerved to hit the boy and then called him a fag as he drove off.

  Dolores and I were sisters of a sort in grief. Both of our boys had been lost because of this gay nonsense, and I for one was done with it.

  “I think it is time for you to leave,” she said after a few seconds of composing herself.

  “Haven’t we paid enough?” I asked her, not budging. “Hasn’t there been enough death for something to change? The people who killed Riley, the people who taunted Kelly to the point that he killed himself, don’t you think these people need to see that as a town, as a people, we aren’t going to take this anymore? We made a mistake when we shut Charlotte down, and you know it.” She just sat there and said nothing. “We buried our boys because of this,” I cried at her, my tears now falling freely. “We held them as babies and swore we would take care of them, and then we put them in boxes and covered them with dirt. Things have to change, Dolores. You have to change them.”

  I sounded crazy, and maybe I was. Foster had taken the most important thing in my life, and I was angry at it. I wanted to punish it, teach it a lesson, but there was no way to do that. Kyle wasn’t giving up; he
was still fighting to change it, and maybe he had the right idea.

  “Is that all?” she asked me.

  “The school board meeting is tomorrow,” I said, standing up. “If you want to find a way to respect Riley, if you want a way to make things right… you’ll be there too.”

  I took my coat and thanked her for the tea.

  There was nothing left to say.

  IT WAS strangely comforting to know that after all these years, school board meetings were just as unpleasant as I remembered them.

  Mr. Raymond had welcomed me with open arms, assuming I had shown up to be present when they voted Kelly’s Laws into school policy. He was a spineless man who I had disliked for years. A midlevel bureaucrat, he had risen to the position of principal simply because he’d somehow managed to attain a master’s in supervision and because everyone else who had had the job or might be in line for it had left for greener pastures than Foster.

  Jeff Raymond also held deep religious beliefs, so long as his beliefs and the beliefs stated in the Bible were identical or could be interpreted that way. He used God as a shield to protect and justify his own pettiness and vengeful nature. He’d bugged the hell out of me when I had been on the board, and he bugged me now.

  “Is William joining us?” he asked me as I found a seat.

  I smiled at him and replied in a sweet voice, “I dearly hope not.” I was rewarded by a confused look as he walked away.

  “This seat taken?” a voice asked me from the aisle.

  I looked over and saw Susan Greymark standing there.

  “Susan!” I exclaimed, getting up to hug her.

  She hugged me back. “How you doing?” she asked me quietly.

  Susan and I had been friends for years, since our boys were so close. Her husband Nathan was a real asshole, but then William was no catch, so I couldn’t talk. “I’m here” was all I said. It wasn’t an answer but then again, maybe it was.

  There was a woman behind her, and she turned and caught her left elbow to encourage a step forward to stand beside her. “Have you met Linda Stilleno? She’s Kyle’s mom.”

  Linda gave me a sad smile and reached over to shake my hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Your son is incredible,” I told her, shaking it back. “You must be very proud of him.”

  I saw her blush slightly, and I could tell she was. “He was torn up about Kelly. I am so sorry.”

  She meant well, but I was getting tired of people telling me they were sorry. “You two want to join me?”

  They took seats to the left of me, leaving me on the aisle, and we sat there waiting for the meeting to start. “I can’t believe they are finally doing something about the attitude at the school,” Linda said, looking around at people as they wandered in and found places to plant themselves. “I personally think the school board needs a two-by-four upside its head.”

  “I used to be on the school board,” I said to her in a deadpan tone. She instantly regretted her words until I added, “And the two-by-fours are mostly shoved up their asses. I think the head slapping is done with one-by-sixes these days.”

  It took her a couple of seconds to realize I was joking.

  We all laughed just as Mr. Raymond brought the meeting to order. “Can we have everyone’s attention, please? We are about to begin.” The few people who were still standing found seats, and the school board sat down on either side of him. “We have a full agenda, so let’s get to it.”

  The next hour or so was spent going over the specific rules that were included in Kelly’s Laws and how they would affect the school in general. A lot of teachers sat in the audience; they asked question after question, wanting to understand how the rules were going to affect their day-to-day teaching. Someone shifted in their seat: I was shocked to see Charlotte there. I hadn’t seen her earlier.

  “Is there anything else before we vote?” Mr. Raymond asked when the last rule had been picked over.

  Linda raised her hand, and I saw Susan stand up with her. “I have something I would like added.”

  I could see the seething hatred in Raymond’s expression from my seat.

  “The floor recognizes Ms. Stilleno.”

  “I would like to propose a gay-straight alliance be added to the school to better educate the student body about different sexualities.”

  He didn’t seem surprised by the request, and I assumed someone had warned him that it was coming. “Very well,” he said, looking around the auditorium. “Does anyone have any objections?” There were none, so he went on. “I think most of the teaching staff is here. Would any teacher care to volunteer to sponsor and mentor such a group?” Of course, no one raised their hand. The teachers looked at each other and then back at him in silence.

  Finally, Charlotte raised her hand. “I will.”

  People around the room began to talk amongst themselves, since no one had thought she would call his bluff. Raymond gave her a snide smile that made my hand twitch at the impulse to slap him. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Axeworthy, but as the new policy states, extracurricular activities can only be supervised by teachers not on probation. Are there any other volunteers?”

  I stood up. “I move to have Mrs. Axeworthy’s probation overturned.”

  Raymond glared at me, and I could tell he’d just seen the other shoe drop in his mind. “That is an excellent idea, but as you are more than aware, Dorothy, only the person who filed the complaint can request that, and since her pension or pay are not affected, it’s not a union issue. So one more time, is there anyone who is willing to supervise a gay-straight alliance on campus?”

  No one said a word.

  “Then let’s vote on this, shall we?” he offered.

  There was silence as we all sat down.

  “We tried,” Susan said, disappointed.

  “I hate that man,” Linda whispered as she glared at Raymond.

  “All in favor of passing the proposed…,” he began and then faltered. Her coat flowing behind her like she was a grande dame making an entrance in a play, her stare directly focused on Raymond, Dolores Mathison swept across the stage. No one budged as she walked to Raymond’s side and whispered something in his ear. I saw his face pale, and then he nodded slowly as she pulled back and looked at him. She said something else to the panel and then walked off the way she’d arrived. She looked out and saw me sitting there. She gave me a whisper of a smile as she left.

  Raymond stared at the tabletop in silence for a few seconds before he said out aloud, “I move to have Charlotte Axeworthy’s probation lifted. All in favor?”

  One by one the school board raised their hands. The vote passed unanimously.

  “I also propose adding a gay-straight alliance to Foster in hopes of educating students about differences in sexuality and tolerance. Is there any teacher who would volunteer to run it?”

  Charlotte raised her hand.

  “Any objections?” he asked.

  There were none.

  As quickly as the meeting began, it was over, Mr. Raymond said nothing as he stormed out of the auditorium. Most of the school board scuttled after him like a herd of lemmings looking for a place to practice swan dives.

  “What just happened?” Susan asked, looking around in confusion.

  “Progress,” I answered her as I smiled. That smile was the first real one I’d had since Kelly’s death.

  Charlotte walked over to us. Her expression—no, everything about her—was ecstatic. “I have a feeling you had something to do with that,” she said to me.

  I just smiled back at her. “It was long overdue. And because I know you won’t hear it from anyone else, I am so sorry for what happened.”

  She gave me a sad smile. “No, Dorothy, I’m the one who is sorry.”

  For some reason her saying it didn’t annoy me at all, most likely because I knew she was telling the truth.

  “You know, Kyle and the kids are outside waiting to hear what happened,” Linda reminded us.

  “Well, we sho
uldn’t keep them waiting,” Susan said, motioning us toward the door.

  “Tell Kyle hello for me, but I am going to pass,” I told them, pausing. “I have something else I need to do right now.”

  Susan gave me a concerned look. “Everything okay?”

  I took a deep breath and nodded. “It is now. But I need to go see Kelly. I think I’m finally ready.”

  There are things in life that you can never ready yourself for. People around you changing for the good is definitely one of them.

  FEBRUARY 7: SOME NIGHTS

  But I still wake up, I still see your ghost.

  Oh Lord, I’m still not sure what I stand for.

  —Fun

  127 days left

  BRAD

  BASEBALL SEEMED like a simple game when I was a kid. All a guy needed was a bat, a ball, a glove, maybe some good shoes, and he was set. I guess I’m not a kid anymore.

  We had spent the whole week going through tryouts, which at this point was a formality because a majority of the team would be the same as last year. The tryouts were for the few juniors and fewer sophomores who were going to be moved up to varsity this year. The rest of us were there because “we win and lose as a team.”

  That’s Coach Gunn-speak for, “If one guy is on the field, we are all on the field.”

  It’s a shitty rule, but let me tell you, there is motivation not to mess up when there are two dozen other guys suffering if you make a stupid mistake. It was Thursday afternoon, and the list was going to go up tomorrow, so this was the last chance to show the coach what you had in you. After four days of varsity drills, the answer from most of us was: there’s not much left. The air was still cool, thank God, because once the sun came up for real in Texas, anything physical instantly involved three to four times the effort.