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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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