Today,
Albert Borris is sharing a deleted scene from his novel
Crash Into Me. Curious about Albert or the book? Click on the links to visit his website or Amazon to learn more!
Not long after, Frank parks in a garage that lets him pay with a credit card. We are definitely out of money, unless someone hits the ATM. Not me. Not Audrey. Maybe Jin-Ae has some money left, otherwise we are at Frank’s mercy.
Gay city. At least according to the information that I have. They have maps of gay-only stores, apartments, parks, museums, everything. I picked a few things from the list, but Jin-Ae worked on the computer for almost two hours in the car. Her choices include going to church. I don’t think any of the others of us care for that idea, but we’ll go with her anyway. Even Audrey worked on the computer today in the car.
“There’s lots of Gay AA meetings,” Jin-Ae says to Frank as we walk up hill.
“Cute,” he replies, from the back, walking slowest.
The lavender door swings open as we approach. Slowly, two older women amble out. I hold the door for them, then us.
“I can’t believe they have a whole gay museum,” Jin-Ae whispers. The main entrance is small. For a museum, the whole place feels small. But, Jin-Ae is right, a whole museum for gays is pretty unbelievable.
“Crap,” whispers Frank. “No cash. Hope they take a credit card.”
“Free,” says Audrey, pointing to a sign. “Donations accepted.”
I notice Audrey’s lips as she talks. I want to kiss her, again, but I feel self-conscious, like it would be wrong for me to kiss her here. Like I am not supposed to be straight in a gay museum.
This museum is definitely gay, and I don’t mean that bad. Inside, everything is lively. Purple, purple, purple. Lavender. Flowers. Pink. Bright greens. There are three floors, sort of like a town house or a big store, more like a ware house, but not big and spread out and wide like you would find in a regular museum. More like something that was the best they could find in a city. A townhouse. A row home.
“Half hour, folks,” says a young man from behind the small glass counter. “We close at six.”
“I’m going up,” Jin-Ae says, pointing to the sign that reads: Arts, floors 2 & 3. Audrey runs towards her, then they sprint up some skinny stairs.
“Have fun,” Frank replies, plopping himself down on a bench near the information table. I walk over and pick up a map. “History, 1st floor.” I read, not wanting to climb stairs. My legs are stiff from yesterday’s mountain climbing and sitting for another six hours in the car. Frank closes his eyes, napping while sitting up.
I notice that the gay people hold hands in public here. Two men walk past me, fingers linked. You don’t see that too much in my town, not at all. I think there is a gay club at school, but I think the kids are scared that they’ll get beat up if they are too “out.” I have never been in a gay church or seen gay people kissing in public. I suppose I am weird because it does not freak me out. I find it interesting. Not like I want to join in, just interesting, different. As the couple walks past, I keep watching them, looking at their hands, together. Maybe that is why gay kids try to kill themselves so much or use so many drugs. Lonely. Can’t hold hands in public.
As Frank naps, I meander around downstairs. What freaks me out the most is the violence. So many gay people killed for no real reason: in World War IIthey wore pink triangles in the prison camps; back in the day Joan of Arc had gay men thrown on the fire she was burned in—that’s where ‘faggot’ came from, used to be a term for wood; and a man named Harvey Milk was executed here in San Francisco because he was gay.
There’s other stuff too. Civil Rights posters and a photo exhibit of famous gay bars that have been in the city. Pictures of the first gay stores in town—a bookstore and a men’s club. One new exhibit is dedicated to Gay marriage, and there are hundreds and hundreds of pictures of weddings, like a giant photo album. I am surprised at how many people in the pictures look old, gray, bald, even the women. I guess they have been together a long time and couldn’t ever get married before.
I’m done in fifteen minutes, then I head back towards Frank. His eyes are still closed. Eventually, the lights flash. Closing time. The girls careen loudly down the stairs. Audrey holds Jin-Ae’s hand. I feel jealous.
“They got lesbian porn!” Audrey shouts. She and Jin-Ae burst out laughing, loud. The man behind the counter grins.
“Like art porn. Chicks in poses. Paintings. All sorts of stuff.” Audrey continues.
“Not regular porn though. Tasteful. Art.” Jin-Ae smiles.
Frank struggles to open his eyes. I realize I can smell his breathe.
Copyright by Albert Borris
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