Monday, December 19, 2011
The Future is Queer; this boy has his OWN story
Sadly, my parents had passed away recently, and I was on a quest to get something I thought I had lost forever; a remembrance of who they were, a token of my childhood. There is no real way to describe what I am looking for, it is love...an energy, a token of who they are...of what I have with my parents. There was only one way to retrieve this lost item, through time travel.
The journey was set, we were to go back in time, back to the year 1986. In no way were we to alter the past. Isn't that the point of all time travel? To not disrupt the past as to change the future. Then again isn't the mere fact that we could time travel a disruption of the past and soon to be future. We would try our best....easy for my partner, he was in Texas during my childhood. In we go into the shiny, disco ball time machine sphere (the influence of Lady Gaga in years to come). In a matter of seconds the machine is up and running, shaking, and then...we arrive.
The machine arrives right smack in the middle of my parent's living room. Way to make an entrance. There in front of me, as if it was just yesterday, my parents are there. The tears had to be held back. I could never give away who I was, just that I was on a mission to acquire something from them. But as you'd expect, how could anyone pass up a chance to spend the day with their family? I decided that I would take some time and talk to my parents, and figure where they were in their lives.
As the hours passed some of my other family came through. I was able to see my sister and older brother, two people I had lost contact with for quite some time. The last time we saw each other was when my parents had passed away. I was left with all the details of their funeral, but that's besides the point. One person I never saw was myself...as a kid. I wasn't around.
In a blink of an eye we went with my parents to this playground, where everyone was playing on an inflatable jumper. Dark figures lingered in the corners. Ghostly. The playground slowly started to deflate and the kids began to yell, forgetting that nothing could happen to them, after all it was plastic. The figures began to move. Going after the children. Some were yelling in terror while the other kids tried to show them that nothing could happen and instead they should laugh at it...then I caught a glimpse of my younger self. The shadows were trying to capture him.
Short, slim, dark black hair, big dark brown eyes. We caught each other looking, as if looking into a mirror, we recognized one another, but I knew better...I had to keep my distance. I marched in front of myself without a care. Nothing in the world could prepare me for what would be in my future. If only someone could tell the little boy that life would be alright, and that things will happen, and from them will come something bigger than himself. He would teach the world that we can accept difference, and that somethings we do don't make us who we are. A constant battle.
We went back to my parents house, where I was to collect what I had come down for. We went into the attic, and there it was. It was beautiful, it was bright and glowing. To everyone it was something different. To me it was peace.
My parents were running late and had to pick up younger me from school. Mark and I decided we would follow with them and then take off back to our time. We sat at school waiting for the bell to ring. Before I knew it we were moving into the classroom where I was in. My teacher, exactly how I remembered him. He looked at me, rather curiously, as if he saw a ghost. Had he known who I was? My parents introduced us as extended family members, and the whole class just sat there and looked at us, parents and all. He began to ask us questions...questions...that brought out the obvious. What I had forgot the whole time was our clothing...they weren't representative of the time, and my teacher caught on quickly. Rather than fight it, we went with it...and who I was was given away. Younger me sat there, looking at me, studying me, my parents, had faded away...a distant memory. They were no longer in the classroom. What had I done?
The teacher asked my partner about his life and who he was. He asked if he was married. Mark answered, yes. My old teacher continued asking questions, where is your wife? I finally couldn't take it that my partner was about to sit there and lie about who we are...so I spoke up, I am his husband, there is no wife. Old troubles from the past reared their ugly head. Everyone giggled, they said why didn't you just say that in the beginning. Just like that...it didn't phase them, we were the norm in a past that was already being shaped from the present/future disruption.
We stuck around to answer all the question the parents and children had. Everything from our silly suits, to our time machine. Making sure to stay clear from anything that will happen and affect the world we live in, for them and ourselves. After much questioning, it was time for us to take off. I had received what I came for, but my parents were long gone, and I couldn't say goodbye. Then a tug came at my pants, it was me....younger me. I bent down and hugged myself...and then he asked, am I gay?
Just like that, the question formed on his lips before they transpired. A child wanting to know his future. As if he needed to know in order to prepare himself for what might be.
I told him I couldn't tell him that...I know who I am now. We sat there looking at each other. The truth is I could never tell him who he was, he had to figure that on his own, and that no matter what he decided in his life, not that it's a choice, but that I would love him no matter what. After all you are me and I am you. Then before I knew it, I told him something will happen to you in life, and you have to be strong, you have to be courageous....you will learn a lot from it and it will make you who you are. Don't ever let anyone tell you differently, you are GREAT!
Maybe that was my way of hoping some past occurances would change, but the truth is I wouldn't want him to do it differently. He would have to learn from it, in his own way, and from it he will learn that life is so much more than just a label. He must fight, listen to the voice within...let that outcry from within rise and be heard. This boy is not the same, he has a story...his own story.
2011. I awake in my bed. It's a new day.