That Surprise Visit Make Me Happy Part -6 Continues…

I sat on the porch, feeling numb. It was close to midnight.

It was two days since I buried Dad, and I didn’t know what to do.

I was alone.

The funeral was beautiful. Pastor Hanson spoke about my Dad with immense respect, and the church was full of people. It felt strange to have people who I thought didn’t think much of me come up after the service and pay their respects, all of them having a kind word or a warm memory to share.

They were all so warm and friendly. Like they really cared.

I didn’t see Maggie there, and during the inevitable preparation meetings with her husband, I had a hard time putting my shame aside.

Principal Stewart had granted me leave. The school year had just started and I had promised her to at least finish the semester until Christmas.

The only thing that kept me from buying a ticket back to New Mexico was the QSA. I couldn’t leave them yet.

I emptied the bottle into my glass and took a sip.

I could hear a car coming up the driveway, lights moving.

The minivan stopped on the gravel beside my truck.

I watched as she stepped out, cable knit sweater and pretty braid. I just looked at her. I didn’t have the energy to fight. Maybe she was finally here to shout at me. I hoped she would.

She stepped up on the porch.

“Hey. Can I sit?”

“Yeah. Okay.” I scooted to make room on the bench.

We sat in silence for a minute or two.

“Would you like some wine?”

“No thanks, I’m… not staying long.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The silence stretched again.

“Liv, I…”

She hesitated, looking down at her hands. I waited.

“I just wanted to say how sorry I am, about your Dad. I know how close you were.”

“Thanks.”

“It was a beautiful service.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you…okay? Is there anything I can do for you? Do you need anything?”

I just stared into the darkness. She was the only thing I needed.

“No…I’m… no I don’t think so. Thanks for asking.”

Silence again.

“Okay then… well I guess I’ll…”

She moved to leave. And suddenly I just couldn’t face the darkness alone.

“Maggie?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you… can you just… hold me… for a while? Just… before you go? Please?”

She hesitated for a second but then her arm came around my shoulders and she scooted closer to me, holding me.

“Yeah Liv, of course.”

I leaned towards her shoulder, and she leaned her head on top of mine.

We sat there for a while. I don’t know how long. It felt like an eternity.

I wished we could just sit like this forever.

“Maggie?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. About… everything.”

“I know.”

“I… didn’t mean to… want to hurt you… I was just… so afraid.”

“I know.”

She sounded tired.

The silence stretched on and in the end, she turned her head and gave me a soft kiss on the top of my head. And then she stood and left.

I watched her car turn around the corner of the barn and disappear down the driveway.

From the dark pit at the bottom of my soul, the echo of Amy’s voice swept through my heart.

These wounds won’t seem to heal, this pain is just too real

There’s just too much that time cannot erase.

—

The kids were working in groups, brainstorming new QSA projects as principal Stewart appeared in the library door. She looked over the working area, taking in the 16 students already involved in discussions, engaged and drawing up ideas.

I was so proud of them. No one felt the need to declare they ‘weren’t gay or anything’ when they joined this fall. Jenny and Susan were leading the discussion at their table, no longer taking as much care to hide their small signs of affection as before. Most of the others most likely knew about their relationship by now, but no one had outed them. They all respected the QSA as a safe space.

“Welcome to QSA Principal Stewart, we’re happy to see you here.”

My happy greeting died on my lips as I took in the look on her face. She signaled for me to meet her outside. I followed her into the empty hallway.

“What’s going on? Just tell me.”

Jerry. please know that I hate to say this, but… I have to ask you to suspend QSA activities for the time being.”

The anger boiled in me.

“No.”

Jerry.”

“No. I will not tell these kids that a bunch of bigots want to stop them from meeting and discussing their lives.”

“Please JERRY, I understand how you feel, but…”

“No, Principal Stewart, please, with all due respect… you do not understand. You can’t understand what it feels like to be told that you have less right to exist than everyone else because of who you are, because of who you love.”

She watched me struggle to keep calm and respectful, sadness lining her face.

“I know. But the school board has had multiple complaints now…” she put up her hands to stop me interrupting, “…and they have told me that they want the QSA meetings to be suspended pending a hearing next week where the complaints will be assessed.”

Her eyes pleaded with me to cooperate. I breathed deeply and tried to control my anger.

“When?”

“Next Tuesday.”

“Then let me finish this meeting. The next one isn’t until Wednesday anyway. I will tell them what’s going on at the end of this session.”

She looked at me and then gave a small nod.

“Okay JERRY. Okay.” She blew out her breath. “I hate this, you know. Your work here is important.I have told them, and I will tell them again at the hearing.”

“I know. Thank you.”

She turned to walk away.

“Anna?” She stopped and looked at me.

“I don’t know how much Colin and the others have told you… but I spent three years in hell here because of who I am. I will not let those kids go through that. They deserve better. They deserve respect. You understand?”

She nodded.

“I understand. I’m on your side JERRY. I’m on their side.”

I watched as she walked away.

Then I took a few deep breaths and opened the library door.

—

The VFW hall was packed with people. I couldn’t believe how many had turned out to listen to this. I sat at a table in the front, next to Principal Stewart. It felt like a defendant’s table at court.

Anna kept true to her word and delivered a glowing speech about the school’s commitment to promoting equality, praising the QSA and me for making the school community better and safer for everyone.

I watched the eight faces of the school board members sitting at the front, facing the crowd. I tried to avoid Rose Anderson’s fucking smug face. Of course that spiteful cow was on the board.

Most of them didn’t seem moved by the principals’ comments.

Some of the people who had lodged complaints were heard. Some of them were who I had expected, parents of kids in the QSA. I was glad to see Jenny’s mom wasn’t one of them.

They went through all the expected arguments, the same old hurtful bullshit about how children should not be subjected to propaganda in school, the importance of family values in the community, how parents had a right to dictate what was best for their kids. All the old shit.

And then the board started talking about me. Because, after all, the complaints were about me. About my ‘unseemly conduct’.

The second they said my name, it felt like a weight settled over the hall.

The careful voices, the measured concern, the usual platitudes; “the students’ well-being,” “the role of an educator,” “the importance of community standards.”

They lined them up like polite little bullets, ready to fire.

I let them talk. I let them build their case, neat and professional. I sat still while they talked about “concerned parents,” “moral responsibility” and “standards for the school.” They laid it all out like something clean, something reasonable, something inevitable.

I tried to sit there and seem calm, but inside I was reliving my youth, every word like a knife being turned in my wounds. I knew I had to not give them an opportunity to brush me aside as the angry dyke they remembered and expected.

“How do you respond to these accusations raised against your conduct, Miss Meyer?” Chairman Harris looked at me, and the whole hall followed suit.

How do you respond? I closed my eyes. I knew where this was headed. I didn’t think I had many allies here. Certainly, none on the board. And the allies that I had in the audience were tongue tied.

I glanced to the back of the room, where I had spotted Maggie. She sat there rigidly, like she didn’t dare to blink.

I didn’t blame her. I hoped she wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t give the crowd a reason to connect the dots from me to her, or worse, out herself for my sake. Just let me get through this without dragging her down with me.

This was what I had tried to protect her from. This was why I had…

No. Better that their attention was focused on me. The agonizing pain still stabbed my heart.

How do you respond?

At the very least, I was not going to take this sitting down.

I pushed my chair back. The legs scraped against the floor with a sharp screech.

Rose Anderson sat stiff; her hands folded across her chest. Chairman Harris leaned back in his chair. They were waiting for me to lose control. Waiting for my rebel yell, for the famous troublemaker to show her true colors.

And she boiled inside of me, that old rage, churning, seething, my demons threatening to rise out of the deep and teach these asshole bigots that I was not less than them. That I had every right to exist.

But this was about more than me. Something more important.

I took a deep breath to calm my voice.

“You want to talk about corruption? You want to talk about dangerous influences?”

I looked at them, one by one, letting the silence stretch.

“How about we talk about a School Board that has books on human rights and LGBTQ+ issues removed from the school library, so that the kids won’t get any ideas about their rights? I checked this morning, and they are all gone. Did you have them burned?”

A shocked murmur went through the hall.

“Or perhaps we should talk about how this same School Board doesn’t want Principal Stewart to take appropriate disciplinary action against students that write disgusting slurs on the QSA advertisements and harass the students who attend the club meetings? You talk about school policy: is protecting bullies school policy now? Or is it only school policy when the bullies’ views align with your own bigotry?”

The murmur grew louder.

“Now look here Ms. Meyer…” Harris started. But I wasn’t finished.

“You asked me how I would respond? This is how I respond: let’s talk about what is really going on here.”

I was trembling now, trying to keep my voice firm but calm. I had to get through this for the kids. This was about them, their future, their right to exist in this fucking town. I could not let them down.

“We all know what this is. This is not about the Queer-Straight Alliance. It never was.”

I swallowed and gave it all I had.

“This is about me. It’s about what I am, who I am. It’s about the fact that you don’t like a lesbian teaching your kids, talking to them, mingling with your wives and daughters at the bake sale or the church luncheon, existing in this town.”

I looked them in the eye, one by one.

“But let’s be very clear. I have every right to exist in this town, the same as all of you.”

I saw the flickers of discomfort, the way they shifted in their seats.

“You don’t have to like me. That’s fine. But you have to let me do my job. So let’s stop pretending this is about policy. This is about bigotry.”

The murmur was rising, so I raised my voice to hold the attention.

“You people don’t even know what the QSA is about. You’ve never asked for information on it, or visited, even though we’ve made it clear that parents are welcome to come see what we are doing. But you never showed any interest. Because you don’t care.”

My voice was starting to shake. My nails dug into my palms.

“You don’t care that it’s just a handful of kids sitting in a classroom, eating store brand Oreos, trying to make sense of a world that’s already decided they’re wrong about who they are. And you won’t even give them a chance to find out for themselves. You just care that they’re different. You’re afraid that they might have the audacity to exist, the courage to put a name to who they are out loud. You’re afraid of them.”

I took a deep breath, trying to stave off my tears.

“And the stupid thing is, most of them are probably straight anyway, like all of you! It’s a Queer-Straight Alliance, for God’s sake! Most of them are just there to learn about something that is a normal, natural part of the world around them, but your sacred ‘policies’ didn’t allow it to be included in the school curriculum.”

I looked away from the heavy-browed chairman Harris and looked over the hall, trying to make some kind of human contact with the people sitting there.

“Your kids just want to learn, they just want to respect others and be respected like decent human beings!”