Rainbow Road (16 page)

To his relief Kyle said, “I was thinking the same thing.”

“Thank God!” Nelson agreed.

Night had falen by the time the boys drove across the speed bumps out of the campground. “Who the hel would name their son Esau anyway?” Nelson asked. “It sounds like a donkey.”

“It’s from the Bible,” Kyle told him.

“Oh, yeah. Dad seems mighty Christian,” Nelson said sarcasticaly.

Jason drove down the town strip, looking for a place to eat. Finaly they decided on McDonald’s. Again. After ordering, they chose a booth by the window. They stared outside and unwrapped their burgers in silence til Kyle spoke up: “I bet Esau’s lonely. I remember how lonely I used to feel. It’s hard growing up different.” Jason chewed on his burger, recaling how confusing it had been not to have anyone to talk with about his feelings toward boys. But he didn’t want to think about al that now. “How do you know for sure the kid’s gay? He can’t be older than seven.”

“Oh, please!” Nelson dipped a French fry into ketchup. “I knew by the time I was three. Besides, it doesn’t matter if he is or not, with that lisp and those curls, he’s going to get caled queer anyway. That’s what’s wrong with our society—if you’re in anyway different, you get clobbered.”

“I never got clobbered,” Jason said and instantly realized that was a huge lie. His dad used to pound him nearly every day. That’s how he’d taught Jason to “act like a man,” so that Jason wouldn’t get clobbered by anyone else.

“Can we talk about something else?” Jason suggested.

Nelson gave an indifferent shrug. “Like what?”

“I don’t know.” After six days in a car together—and Kyle stil pissed at him—what else was there to talk about?

Kyle stared out the window with a faraway look. “My dad always wanted me to be some sort of superstar athlete. He never accepted me for just me.” Nelson raised his arm to play the air violin and dabbed invisible tears from his eyes. “Yes, Kyle. We’ve heard you kvetch before.” Jason had to agree. He liked Mr. Meeks, who was always super-nice to him. But maybe that
was
because Jason was a star athlete.

“At least your dad doesn’t treat you like some sort of leper,” Nelson told Kyle. “I grew up swearing my dad couldn’t realy be my real dad, thinking there was some mistake—probably ’cause he treated
me
like a mistake.”

Jason gazed across the table at Nelson’s pink hair and milion earrings. It was easy to picture his dad freaking out. And yet he felt angry at the guy. No one should treat their kid like that.

Jason kept trying to come up with something else to talk about, but al he could think about was his own dad.

“With my old man,” Jason confided in a low voice so no one else could hear, “nothing I did was ever good enough. I remember my very first trophy and how my mom hugged me. But al my dad said was, ‘It’s about time.’ No matter what I did, nothing was ever enough.”

“Boy …” Nelson sighed. “What a bunch of losers, huh?”

Jason studied him, unsure. Did he mean them or their dads? Or both?

On the way back to the campground Nelson cranked the stereo up loud. Jason left it alone, letting the music drown out the bad feelings the dinner conversation had brought up.

He’d hoped for a cheery break after seeing that poor kid at the campground. Instead he felt more depressed than before.

With each speed bump the car hit, Jason couldn’t help thinking:
That’s just how this trip is turning out—one bump after another
.

As they puled into their campsite, Nelson noticed the lantern glowing in the tent next door.
Please don’t let the dad still be yelling at the kid,
he prayed.

But as soon as he climbed out of the air-conditioned car, he heard Esau’s dad continuing at it: “If you don’t stop crying right now, I’l realy give you something to cry about.”

“Hey,” Nelson whispered to Jason. “Can’t you punch him out a little?”

He’d seen Jason smack a major school buly and knew he’d decked his dad. Surely he could take down Esau’s dad.

Jason gazed toward the tent and rubbed his chin as though seriously considering it, but he was grinning.

“That’s not funny,” Kyle said. He grabbed his toothbrush, toothpaste, and towel and headed toward the bathhouse.

Jason sighed and said to Nelson, “Esau’s old man would probably press charges.” He grabbed his own toothbrush and folowed Kyle.

Nelson felt a little let down. So much for Jason the gay superhero. Nelson perched on the picnic table and shook a cigarette from his pack, noting it was the last one. While driving through the boring desert, he’d started thinking that maybe he should quit—especialy after how Kyle had chewed him out in Texas.

But he might as wel finish his pack. He lit up the cigarette and thought about Kyle. He was starting to worry about him. He’d counted on Kyle to be the one to keep cool and in control during this trip. Instead Kyle seemed like he was starting to lose it.

Kyle came back from the bathhouse stil giving Jason the silent treatment, but at least he didn’t sleep in the car again, like he’d threatened to that morning.

As Nelson slid into the tent beside Kyle, he could hear Esau’s sobs from next door.

A woman’s voice advised, “You’d better obey Daddy and stop crying or you’l make him mad.”

“But I didn’t mean it,” Esau whimpered.

“Oh, stop sounding like a girl,” his dad belowed. “In fact, I think you
are
a girl. They must’ve made a mistake at the hospital. Now shut up and say your prayers. I don’t want to look at you anymore.”

Nelson closed his eyes and offered up his own prayers, hoping Esau would somehow turn out okay.

The folowing morning, Nelson woke to the commotion of Dad and Mom Esau.

“Why didn’t you bring it?” Dad demanded.

“Because you didn’t say to bring it,” Mom responded.

Nelson puled his pilow over his head, hoping to drown out the racket, only to hear Esau’s dad bark, “Do I have to tel you everything?”

“Why don’t they just shoot each other?” Nelson muttered, puling the pilow off.

“Because of the kid,” Jason’s voice replied from across the tent.

Nelson glanced at Kyle’s wristwatch: barely six A.M. No way. He sat up, too annoyed to sleep any longer. He tugged his shorts on, climbed out of the tent, and began searching the car trunk for cigarettes. Then he remembered he wanted to quit. Crap.

In the corner of the trunk he spotted his tin of blue corn facial scrub. He’d been meaning to do a mud mask the last few days. It might take his mind off his desire to smoke.

“I never thaw anyone with pink hair before,” a smal voice lisped beside him.

Nelson glanced down at the curly blond tuft beside him. “Where’d you come from?” Esau turned and pointed a smal finger beneath the picnic table. “That’th my dream houth.” Nelson glanced at the battered table and patted the kid’s head. “Honey, it’s a start, but you’ve got to learn to dream bigger than that.” Esau peered up at the tin of facial mud. “What’th that?”

Nelson displayed the palm-size tin. “Blue corn scrub mask.”

Esau’s eyes stared over his nose at the metal tin. “Corn? Like you eat?”

“Not exactly. You put it on your face.” Nelson unscrewed the cap, revealing the coarse pale-blue cream inside.

Esau smeled it and gazed up at Nelson. “What for?”

“To exfoliate and cleanse pores.” He added in his mind,
Don’t those screwed-upparents teach you
anything?

“Here, hold this.” Nelson dipped a hand into the paste and handed the tin to Esau, who watched curious-eyed as Nelson smeared the scrub across his own face.

“See? You make a mask and wait fifteen minutes.”

Esau peered up at Nelson, his mouth hanging open. “How come”

Nelson took the tin back, singing, “Some little desert mouse wasn’t paying attention.” He squatted down at Esau’s eye level.

“Look, it’s like this: When you get to be a teenager, the pores of your face start pooping crap and getting constipated. Isn’t that something to look forward to? This is like a laxative to keep your pores clean and flowing smoothly. Get it? Good.” Esau’s brows shot up. “Can I try it?”

Nelson studied the little tyke, so deprived-looking, with those messy curls and frayed sneakers. “Okay.” He sighed. “We just have to make sure to get it off before the evil parents see you.” He unscrewed the tin again and gently spread a scoop of cream across the boy’s face, being extra careful around the eyes.

“It feelth cold like ithe,” Esau lisped.

“Uh-huh.” Nelson capped the tin and tossed it back into the trunk. Then he sat on the ground beside Esau. While the masks tingled their magic, Nelson watched families stir from their RVs and tents, as the sun began another blistering day. Meanwhile, the yeling continued from Esau’s tent.3

“Where did you put it?” Mr. Esau was shouting. “I left it here yesterday.”

“Don’t blame me,” Mrs. Esau said. “I haven’t seen it.”

Esau glanced over his shoulder and returned to look at Nelson. “Hike you.”

Nelson shifted on his hard little patch of ground. He didn’t have much experience with kids and wasn’t sure how to respond. “I … like you too, buddy.” He stared at Esau and felt himself choking up. “Come on!” He stood up. “We’d better get that off your face before Satan’s spawn come looking for you.” He grabbed his towel from the trunk and started toward the bathhouse only a few sites away. Esau hurried alongside him, trotting to keep pace. Unexpectedly, Nelson felt a tiny hand slip in between his fingers. He gazed down at the kid. Esau peered up at him, his eyes filed with trust and hope.

“Do you have dethert in Virginia?”

“No.” Nelson gazed down at the mud-masked boy. “Mountains, beaches, and ocean, but no desert.”

“I’ve never theen the othean,” Esau said. “Only dethert.”

Yeah, your whole life seems like a desert
. Nelson pushed open the bathhouse door and led Esau to the washbasin. When the boy saw himself in the mirror, his entire face broke into a smile. For the first time Nelson saw him laugh, and he laughed too.

“Okay, let’s get serious.” Nelson wet the end of the towel beneath the faucet and crouched down to wipe the cream off Esau’s face. “Now close your eyes. I want to tel you something, okay?”

Esau nodded trustingly as Nelson gently wiped the wet towel across his face, rinsing off the mud.

“Life’s going to get rough sometimes,” Nelson told the boy. “People wil cal you names and try to hurt you, they’l tel you what to feel, what to think. They’l say you’re a mistake. But you’re not. You know what I mean?”

Esau blinked open his eyes and shook his head. “Uh-uh.”

Nelson wet the towel again, frustrated that he wasn’t getting his point across. “Keep your eyes closed. Okay, just remember this one thing: It’s okay to be you—

exactly who you are, no matter what anyone says. Believe in yourself. Trust your heart. Be true to who you are. Promise you’l remember that?” Before Esau could answer, the door squeaked behind them. “What the hel?” a voice boomed.

Esau’s eyes burst open. His entire little body began trembling.

“Get your butt over here!” His dad pointed to the floor, commanding. “I was looking al over for you.” Esau lowered his head and shuffled across the concrete floor to his dad.

“Didn’t I tel you not to be a pest?” Esau’s father cuffed the boy on the head. Esau erupted into tears.

Nelson stood from his crouch and tried to explain: “We were exfoliating.”

“Leave my son alone.” Dad gazed at Nelson, his eyes dark with anger. “If I see you near him again, I’l cal the police.” He gripped his son by the shoulder and shoved him out the door.

Nelson watched the door squeak closed and felt his mud mask cracking. A wave of fury surged into his chest. An instant later he bolted out the door, shouting after dad and kid: “No,
you’re
the one the police should come after!”

He traipsed past families at picnic tables, who glanced up from their breakfasts at the pink-haired teenager with a blue mud mask.

“Why do you pick on him like that?” Nelson demanded. “He’s just a little kid.”

“Yeah?” The dad glanced over his shoulder, his face red from anger or embarrassment or both. “Wel, he’s my kid.” He shoved the sobbing Esau toward the tent.

“You keep away from him. Faggot!”

Kyle and Jason hurried from their tent as Nelson shouted back, “Asshole!”

Dad started toward Nelson, but Nelson didn’t flinch. He felt too angry to be scared. Besides, Jason had leaped up next to Nelson, yeling at the man: “Someday that boy’s going to beat the crap out of you!”

“Guys?” Kyle caled from behind. “Cut it out!”

“You hear me, Esau?” Jason shouted.

The little boy stood by his family’s tent, eyes wide with awe at al the ruckus he’d caused.

“You grow up big and strong, Esau!” Jason yeled as Esau’s mom tried to pul the boy into the tent. “When your day comes, you smack your dad, good and solid.” Esau’s old man glanced over his shoulder at the boy. And Esau stared back up at him. For that one instant, Nelson saw a flicker of panic cross the man’s face.

“It’s okay, son.” The man awkwardly laid his arm around the boy’s shoulder, and guided him into the tent, no longer shoving him.

Nelson clapped Jason on the back. “That was so awesome!” But he turned to see Kyle shaking his head in disapproval. “What the heck was that al about? Are you guys crazy?”

“
He’s
the crazy one.” Nelson gestured over his shoulder at the dad.

“Exactly what happened?” Kyle insisted.

“Nothing!” Nelson tried to explain that it wasn’t his fault. “Esau wanted a facial. And I told him to be true to himself.”

“No wonder his old man got so mad.” Jason sighed.

“You realy think that accomplished anything?” Kyle asked.

“Yeah,” Jason said forcefuly. “I think it accomplished something. I bet that guy wil think twice before he smacks his kid again—or before he cals someone a faggot again.”

“I’m with you,” Nelson agreed, punching and kickboxing their picnic table.

‘Oh, right.” Kyle crossed his arms. “I’m sure you realy increased that guy’s tolerance and acceptance of gay people.”

“Look,” Jason answered back. “I didn’t come out just to take crap from people who think you can cal someone a faggot and get away with it.”