Billy

by Steve Rider



Billy was always an impulsive person. So it was no surprise to
me when he came out to his parents. And I was not surprised when
they reacted the way that they did. Billy was a friend of mine all
through high school, well, until he left. My name is John by the
way, I'm straight.

I sort of reacted real well I guess the night that Billy had
told me. I mean, we were friends, I knew he was an OK guy, why
should I care if he was gay or not. He never bothered me at all,
don't get the wrong idea, I'm straight and Billy knew that. He
just wanted to have some gay friends. Not in New Wellington
though, New Wellington Kentucky, where Billy and I grew up. The
town had never been described by anyone as being "gay friendly".
Billy's parents were sort of typical of the really poor families
in town. Everything was set in stone, you just picked up the Good
Book and there it all was clear and plain. And of course the
preacher in town was always there if you had any parts you couldn't
get. Mr. Carothers (that was Billy's last name) he didn't have any
doubts. It was all plain and simple. He threw Billy out the front
door and then he made Mrs. Carothers throw his clothes out behind
him.

The man at the General Store in town let him use the phone
and Billy called me and told me what had happened. He said he was
heading to New York. We were seniors in high school at the time.
We were both 17. I tried to talk him out of it. I told him that
the city would eat him alive and spit him out and as it turns out
I guess I was right. Poor Billy, he never really had a chance in
this life.

He would send me letters every now and then from New York.
I could tell that he wasn't really happy. At first Billy was
living on the streets and I'm pretty sure he was selling himself.
He didn't talk much about the gay parts. I think he knew that I
didn't want to hear it. But Billy was still my friend and there
for a while, when he had an address, I wrote back to him. I told
him about things in New Wellington. The kids in our class, the
town and, sad to say, his family too. He had two younger brothers
in the school when his dad kicked him out. I felt really bad for
the guy.

Then my dad had to go to New York on business and he decided to
take us along. I got really excited. Billy was living with this
guy Ted and I had a phone number and an address and I felt great
about the trip. My parents knew about Billy, hell the whole town
did, but my parents were pretty open minded and my dad remembered
Billy as a "good kid". So they agreed to let me go see Billy on
Saturday night. I called him and he sounded really excited and
we left on Friday afternoon for New York.

Billy had told me how to take the subways to get to Ted's place
and I arrived about ten minutes late. Ted answered the door "You
must be John" and he showed me in. I couldn't believe it when I
saw Billy. He looked so much older, and his hair was all weird
like a punk rocker, and he was thin too, way too thin. It scared
me. Poor Billy.

I sat there and talked to Billy and Ted that night. We must have
talked for five hours. They were telling me about what it was like
to be gay and on the streets and alone. Ted was a little older then
Billy and I. He had been around I guess. It seemed to me as though
Ted was looking out for Billy. I was riveted to my chair that night,
listening to them and sort of starting to understand what it was
like for them, it sort of made the world seem all crazy and wrong.
Then I had to go or I would miss the last subway car to my parent's
hotel. I stood up to go, and Billy came over to me and he hugged
me and I hugged him right back, and Ted was there smiling, and that
was the last time I saw Billy alive.

Ted called me in April, the year after I graduated. I was home
fron college on spring break. Billy had just died. It wasn't AIDS,
it was murder. Someone in Central Park had decided that he looked
like a fag. They didn't like Billy, and he was alone, and they
kicked his ribs in, and they punctured his lung, and he choked
to death on his own blood. And I thought at the time that all of
this had happened because Billy had come out to his parents, and
I remember thinking too that we ought to live in a world where
people could just be themselves and their parents would still love
them.

Poor Billy.

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