Under the Rainbow

Part 1

           My feet dangled over the edge of the gray bridge, swinging just a little. They were so small back then. Back in fifth grade where I knew nothing about myself. Back when I didn’t understand why people hated others with such a passion. Why people here hated people there. They were people right? I didn’t understand. Not a bit. Back when I was falling, forgive my terminology, in like for the girl who explained it to me. For one of my best friends.

            Below me the still darkness of the deep water beckoned me. A few small waves calling me. I spent more time here than my home. It was better here, calmer, easier. The sun or moon above my head and sometime the small flurry of snow. I understood this place, and it understood me. The bridge was high, concrete, cool to the touch. It’s amazing how many of the little things like that I remember. But I remember the girl too. The first girl. The one who started my uncontrollable roll down the hill of my life.

            She was fun, she was cool, she was smart, she was talented, and she was herself. She was different. Her short black hair defied the normalcy that The City attempted to force upon us. I often lost myself in her dark brown eyes, wondering what she thought about and how her life differed from mine. She was short, tomboyish, and cute. T-shirts, jeans, and sneakers. She laughed at things that she thought were funny, not wondering what others thought about it first. She had a sense of humor that could rival most comedians. She was amazing.

            Something no one else in The City was. Something that was reserved for the people there and not here. It wasn’t hard to like her. It wasn’t hard to talk to her. She was a great friend; she knew me and understood me. But my parents sheltered me from everything, letting me know the bare minimum. And hers did nothing. They let her find out what she found out. My mom hid me from the world, not on purpose though. She was barely ever sober enough to notice. Maybe that’s why I had to have things explained to me. Because I didn’t have anyone to tell me about things. Maybe that’s why we got along at first. We balanced each other. But it wasn’t what kept us together. No, that was the friendship and the way we didn’t need to talk in order to understand each other. That silence was enough for the two of us.



            “Why?” I asked, once again my feet dangling off the edge, only this time the ground next to me was filled by her. Her short, dark hair in her eyes. She was short and skinny, yet at the same time she gave off a tough vibe that dared others to try and mess with her. She was loyal and would stand up for anyone that was being messed with. She hated that about people. She hated how they could be so cruel to another human being.

            “Why what? Why we go to school? Probably ‘cause the adults have nothing else to make us do and they want us out of their hair.” She looked back down at her drawing. A dragon, as always. She was an amazing artist. She didn’t have to look at other pictures and it seemed like each time she drew, she got better. It made me jealous, but it encouraged me to do things to show off whatever little talent I had. Only a little bit of writing talent that would become so much more, the ability to play sports, the way I could talk easily in front of a group, how I could act, and how I could draw people to me like moths to a flame.

            “Not that. Why we live here. I feel like a pencil drawing, I can only wear black, white, and gray. The buildings aren’t painted. There’s no creativity. And on the off chance you hear music, it sucks. But when you go by…” My voice trailed off. I almost said it. I almost said the name of that place. I was a good kid, Danielle may not be, but I was. I didn’t do the things she did. Not back then. “But when you go by that place, you’ll hear amazing music, laughing, and color. Like their whole world is a giant rainbow or something.”

            “Well, you know they’re gay, so I can’t just say they’re gay and that have that be the answer can I?” Always so smart. She always knew what to say. That bugs me now, but back then I admired it.

            “Guess not.”

            Danielle looked over at me, sizing me up. The she set down her pencil and turned to me, crossing her legs. Her hands fidgeted as she spoke, distracting me, but only slightly. “Well, The City doesn’t like gays, hates ‘em really. So when a couple gays came out downtown and put on a big party, the straight people left. The gay people stayed, they could’ve come here, but they didn’t. I don’t think they really could because the police would’ve found a way to get them to go back. Every time a gay person comes out, whether they are bi, lesbian, or gay, the police take them to Gay Forest. They say that they should have people they relate to, when really they just want them out of here. Whenever a police member sees a gay person leave from The Forest, they send out a message, TV, phone calls, everything. They say that we have a visitor from Downtown, act normal and show hospitality, which is code for, ‘Get your butts inside and lock the doors, close the shutters, and don’t leave the house.’ Your parents always protected you didn’t they Sam? From everything in this world. They really hate gays don’t they? All of The City does. They think that being gay is contagious and a terrible disease.” Danielle focused on wringing her hands for a moment, her short hair falling in her eyes again as she hung her head. Her voice barely a whisper as she said, “They’re wrong.”



            She was amazing, everything a young, unwilling, lesbian could want. I didn’t know back then, I had no idea, no little inkling. I was just falling. But she wasn’t there to catch me. She wasn’t, and never would be. But it wasn’t her fault. It was mine; I didn’t know how to use my gaydar. I just assumed she was. I think she did too. But if she did, it was just a phase. For her it was nothing. For me it wasn’t a phase. For me it was life. For me it was love. For me it was forever.



            “Hey…Danielle…I can trust you right?” Still fifth grade. Still falling. But now at least I’m realizing.

            “Of course.” She said, not really listening or paying attention. Like always. Not exactly my wanted reaction, but once I said it she would listen. But I would have to say it first.

            You know how we talked about Gay Forest?” She nodded a little, still not fully paying attention. At that time I couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing. I would after I said it though. “I’ve realized something.” My voice faltered, giving me away to anyone who was paying attention. But up here, on the bridge, alone with someone not even really listening, I was okay. “I’m gay.” Her head snapped up and her mouth fell open as she glanced at the phone. “You can’t tell anyone! They’ll take me away! You know that!”

            But I could tell she didn’t care. Her hand was inching to the phone, to call the police and say they should take me there, away from the ‘normal’ people here. She said the society was wrong. She had said they had no right to do this. But now she didn’t care. Now she didn’t care about anything except getting me away. So I ran.

            The journey was terrifying. The fear of being caught. The fear of being attacked or found out. Considering I was 10 and had heard stories of some of the gay people from Danielle. Then I saw it. My new home. And the fear left me. I could tell I belonged there just by looking at it.

            Gay Forest. I had passed it, but never actually saw anything but color. Never heard anything but music. But now I saw the pictures. On every building there were trees painted on. Beautiful trees. The whole area looked like a forest. But the leaves were all the colors of the rainbow. This was a forest of pride. Nobody wore just black or white or gray, their shirts screamed how different they were. Witty sayings on them, rainbows, pictures, everything. The ground had been painted and the windows were open to the cool breeze. People milled around, holding hands with whomever, laughing, smiling, being who they truly were. Being unafraid. Music I’d never heard came from speakers all over, not so loud that it was annoying, but loud enough to be heard. I wanted to stay forever. And I knew I would. Because this is where I belonged. This is where I would be accepted. This is where I would be loved.