Three: Fearlessness in the Face of the Truth
Nicollette Street, Downtown Minneapolis
“Stop talking to me!” Will shouts frantically as he pushes his way through slow crowds.
“Please, just go away!”
He stares at the crowd for a minute before he bolts. His creepy assailant scared him to his core; he couldn’t gather the strength to even fight. Escape from what he saw overrides his self-preservation, and he darts between busses, people and traffic.
Will runs for a mile before his body catches up to him. He collapses at a bus stop. His lungs ache, his body feels sharp pains, but his mind is still racing. His hands tightly covering his face as he tries to recover.
Torment of the man’s words mix with his inner turmoil. “I am not like my father!” He cries, but even he is surprised by his words.
He enters a world of his own self-torment. His heavy breaths help him become oblivious to the world around him. His thoughts turn dark and painful until he is jolted to reality by the touch of a stranger. He instinctively drops his hands and tenses up, ready for an attack.
A kind-eyed African American man in tattered clothes greets him with a smile. “You don’t have to be afraid of them” He says sympathetically
“I’m not afraid,” he huffs with disgust at the old man, “I just want them to go away.”
“Now, chief, why would you want that?”
“What do you know? You’re homeless and crazy.”
“No one is ever homeless.”
Will takes a deep breath and begins to indignantly walk away. The man follows him. Will tries to ignore him, but he keeps calling out.
“Sir, you don’t have to run!”
“Sir, if you just listen!”
“Go away!” Will finally yells. “I’m not crazy. Go away!”
“Don’t listen to me,” the man says as he runs up to him, “Listen to them!”
He turns his head towards the smelly old man. “You smell bad; you aren’t someone I want to talk to!” He snaps. “If I give you money will you go away!”
“I don’t want your money.” The man says insulted “This is clearly where we end, but you should know you have a gift. You choose to waste it trying to be what you’re not. You’re the one suffering. Everyone else here has to go through their lives questioning what’s going on. You know the truth and you treat it like a disease. You should be ashamed.”
The man walks away, leaving Will speechless. He watches him turn the corner, into an alley and out of his life. For that split second, he regretted not following him. However, after the second passed he took a deep breath and walked briskly to the next bus stop.
The bus brings him home around dusk. The orange glow of the sun makes strips across the sky as it exits. Will glances at it before entering his apartment building. The orange glow brings him no joy. He lifelessly walks to the hallway, and then stands at front door. He hears noises inside and looks as if he deflates a little bit.
A couple minutes pass and the door creaks open. His keys are still in hand, ready to open the door.
“My baby!” Dave says as he stumbles out into the hallway to pull him in.
“How are you?” Will says as affectionately as he can muster.
Dave helps take off his coat, stumbling often. His breath reeks of alcohol. The apartment smells of good cooking that almost overpowers the smell.
“How was your day?”
“Good?” he says with forced optimism as he walks away to the bedroom.
Dave follows him and stumbles against the walls. He rants and slurs, but Will doesn’t hear him. Will is too focused on thoughts passing through his head. Will undresses, he takes off several shirts and double layer of pants. Then, he takes the wrap that hide his breasts. As he does this, he catches sight of himself in the mirror.
He is about 50 pounds heavier then what he wants. He has been living as a man for years now but still feels the same body image shame he did as a woman. His thoughts become depressive. He bows his head, grabs a tight tank and tries to hide the bulges at his chest.
While he does this, Dave’s babbles become more incoherent. He hasn’t seen him drink, but the smell of vodka seems stronger now. It only takes a slight discretion, even a perceived one, on Will’s behalf to set him off. He is not in any sort of mood to deal with that tonight. Its only Tuesday, he has a long week ahead of him.
Dave didn’t work. He couldn’t keep a job with an alcohol problem like his. The lingering sadness he feels about dating a man who doesn’t work, compounds with his other lingering depressing thoughts. Dave is almost double his age; Will is 24, he is 42.
Someone is better than no one; right?
His thoughts are immediately interrupted by Dave tipping over and knocking several things to the floor with him. He is spouting out nonsense stories again. He will usually get involved in these stories so much that he will begin to cry. Will tries to distract him.
“I got chased by a weird guy who told me I should just let the horrific scary part of myself out and I ran out of downtown.”
Dave responds, but Will only hears a few words in disarticulated strings.
“This man said he saw things too. He said I should stop brainwashing myself. I got scared. So many thoughts hit me like an avalanche. So, I yelled at him and left.”
“The world is scary, baby!” Dave finally says. “Why run from it?”
Will realizes he is right. He is always running from something. He can’t carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. Recently, he has made an honest effort at accepting himself and the façade he lives in. It was easier to become a man then it was to admit that he wanted to date women. Will thinks of the accusations, the hurtful comments and the fear of attack that happens frequently. The ‘normal life’ is too much. Memories, anger, loss, grief and pretending he’s ok are too much. He can’t turn off his mind.
Being a woman is way worse though. The disrespect, and the ideologies people push on him. The transition was easy. Nothing legal or medical has been done, but the ability to get respect and honest conversation by switching has been satisfying. The occasional misinformed religious person gets annoying, but it’s nowhere near as much pain as being blamed for being victimized. It is not even close to the hurt Will constantly felt from being told ‘he couldn’t’ because of lumps of fat on his chest.
He quietly slips into his head again. Dave passes out and Will has time to think. He makes a pact with himself. He will finally be who he wants to be, and he won’t accept anything less. He can’t change anything at this exact moment, so he focuses on the future.
Finally, for the first time he feels energized. He’s going to find the life he wants. He stands up proudly and Dave pukes on the floor.
Reality of his existence sets in and he realizes that hell looks a lot like his every-day. Despite the solid lump of pain in his throat, he fights the negative thoughts and walks out of his apartment. He promises himself won’t return.
Comments