“Well, they have these conversion therapy schools.”
“Do they work?”
“We had a conversation about this with Soledad and Sam one night when we went to dinner. And the answer is no. No, they don’t work. But people go to them anyway.”
“So why do they go?”
“Well, most of the time it’s because their parents send them there. Not my idea of love, but… And some people go on their own. Hoping it just may work. So they can live a normal life. Now, who in their right mind wants to live a normal life?”
“But you live a normal life.”
He nodded. And then he tapped his head. “But I don’t live a normal life up here.” And he tapped his temple again. “One day, you will thank the universe that you were born the man you are.”
I watched my father finish smoking his cigarette.
When you drove through Texas, you could see forever. The sky let you see what was ahead. Seeing was important. But once I couldn’t see who my dad was.
And now I could see him. I could see who he was.
And I thought he was more beautiful than the Texas sky.
Twenty-Five
DAD SAID THAT THE ONLY thing you leave on this earth after you die that’s worth anything at all is your name. I wanted my father to live forever. But that wasn’t going to happen. And every time I entered a library, I was going to grab a book and write his name in it. So I could keep his name in this world.
Twenty-Six
WE CHECKED INTO A HOTEL in Austin. It was chilly enough to wear jackets, but really it wasn’t all that cold. We were walking around the state capital, and Dad was reading some historical marker. “Texas,” he said. He shook his head. “Did you know that in 1856, there was a county in Texas that made every Mexican illegal?”
“How could they do that?”
“Well, you just made it a crime to be in the county. Matagorda County, Texas.”
“So it was illegal for Mexicans to live there? All the Mexicans who lived in that county had to leave?”
“Or be incarcerated. But you know there are good things in the history of Texas too. In 1893, some untamable woman who probably wanted a divorce and couldn’t get one founded an organization called the Association of Southern Women for the Prevention of Lynching.”
I almost wanted to laugh. But it wasn’t funny. “How do you know these things, Dad?”
He looked at me and smiled and shook his head. “There’s this thing called a library. And in those libraries, there are books. And—”
“You’re a wiseass, Dad. Now I know where I get it from.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think your mother made a contribution to that too.”
“Did they lynch homosexuals, Dad?”
“I’m not up on that. But in jolly old England, they didn’t hang homosexuals—they burned them. Alive.”
I should’ve left the question unasked.
“Ari, people love. Who they love and why they love, who knows how that happens? And people hate. Who and why they hate, who knows how that happens? I found the meaning of my life when I met your mother. That doesn’t mean that there weren’t a thousand questions left unanswered. I’ve tried to come up with my own answers. And very often, I have failed. I’ve learned not to punish myself for my failures. And I try—but do not always succeed—to greet the day with gratitude.”
He messed up my hair with his hand. He hadn’t done that since I was a boy.
“Don’t ever let the hate rob you of the life you’ve been given.”
* * *
I was lying in bed in the hotel room. I was thinking about my brother. All kinds of things were racing through my head. My father was lying in the bed next to mine. He was reading a book, All the King’s Men. Then he shut the book and turned off the light.
“You okay, Ari?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
“You’re a brave kid.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“I don’t know what’s in your head about your brother, but he’s lived there rent-free for too many years. I have to tell you something about him—he doesn’t have an innocent bone in his body.”
“But he’s your son.”
“Yes. And sometimes you have to let a son go. Because, for reasons I don’t fully understand, your brother has lost his humanity. There are such people.”
“Are you angry that I need to see him?”
“You’re doing what you should be doing. You’re discovering life—which includes your brother—on your own. Nobody should deny you that.”
We were quiet for a long time. And then a thought entered my head and it made me smile. “Dad?”
“What?”
“I like you, Dad. I mean, I really like you.”
My dad broke out into this great laugh. “Sometimes telling someone you like them is a helluva lot better than telling someone you love them.”
Twenty-Seven
I WAS MET BY A guard who let me enter into the prison. I wasn’t afraid, and I’d thought I would be. I wasn’t nervous, and I’d thought I would be. One of the prison guards, who looked like he’d been born bored, led me into a room with a row of windows. There was no one in there. “The one at the end.” He pointed toward the last seat. “When you’re done, you can just walk out and check out at the front desk before you leave. I’m the front desk,” he said. And he half chuckled. A bored man with an almost sense of humor.
I waited in the cubicle no more than a minute. The man who was my brother was let into the room, and there I was, face-to-face with the brother I had only imagined for years, a thick piece of glass separating us. He had thick black wavy hair and a mustache. He looked older than a man in his late twenties. He was handsome in a very hard way, and his black eyes didn’t have any friendliness or softness in them.
We stared at each other, not saying anything.
“So you’re little Ari. Look at you. I bet you think you’re something.”
I ignored what he said. “I’ve been wanting to see you for a long time, Bernardo.”
“What for?”
“You’re my brother. When I was a kid I really loved you. I missed you when you were gone. Nobody would talk about you.”
“That’s very touching. I might have been a sensitive little crybaby like you once. I like me better this way.”
“I take it you didn’t really want to see me. You didn’t have to say yes.”
“No, no. I wanted to see you. I was curious. I mean, what the fuck. But if you were expecting a fucking Hallmark card, I’m not your guy. Sorry to disappoint you.”
“I’m not disappointed. I didn’t have expectations. I just wanted to meet you.”
“Wanted to see for yourself.”
“Why not?”
“Oh, so you wanted to come to the zoo.”
“I don’t happen to think you’re an animal. And I’ve thought about you a lot.”
“What a waste of time. I didn’t think about you at all.”