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that she didn t do stereotypical mom things, like saying Jesse looked too thin or taking
him to Target to buy new clothes.
She was like Jesse she cared about people, but she wasn t sentimental about it.
I got a text from my dad after dinner. Jesus, could my family sense me thinking
about them from miles away?
Have you heard from your mother?
I sighed and put my phone back in my pocket.
Bad news? Mama Feres asked.
Uh& just my parents being weird.
You all right?
Yeah.
Don t you lie to me, she said sternly. If you need to talk about something, you
talk about it.
They re getting divorced. Or trying to. My dad keeps texting me. My mom s been
going out a lot, I guess, and sometimes she doesn t come home& I don t know. It s
weird.
154 J.A. Rock
Mama Feres nodded. Parents don t know what s up in life any more than kids
do. But we re supposed to behave better.
I just wish they d leave me alone. I don t care what they do.
Not even a little?
I don t want to.
Hon. It s okay to.
I looked at her, and she smiled at me.
My mom rarely smiled. When I was younger, I thought it was the best thing in the
world when she did. I wanted to make her smile. I invented this picture of her in my
head where she was smiling, and to this day when I thought of my mom, I usually
brought up that image first.
Thanks, I said. I m okay, though.
She hugged me before Jesse and I left for the theater, and told me to break a leg.
She held me a long time.
* * * *
That little dog my family had when I was a kid, the one I d told Jesse about his
name was Max.
There was one day when I was maybe eleven or twelve when I was watching TV
downstairs and Max was upstairs with my mom. He followed her everywhere, even
though she didn t particularly like him.
I don t know what Max did, but suddenly I heard my mom yell, He s a bad dog!
Bad! She kept yelling it, getting louder each time. He s a bad dog! A bad, bad dog!
Part of me wanted to run upstairs and make her stop. But some awful part of me
liked hearing her yell at someone else for a change.
Calling the Show 155
Soon she was screaming, the same words over and over again. A bad dog! I
started to turn up the TV volume, then changed my mind and put my hands over my
ears instead. There was a thud, and Max yelped.
A few minutes later, Max came downstairs. I called him over, and he came, a little
slower than usual, but wagging his tail. He curled up on the couch with me, and I
petted him.
I remember feeling a little annoyed with him for recovering so quickly.
Now I understood you had to be able to bounce back after being treated like that.
You had to not let it stop you from going to people you trusted and letting them be kind
to you. Even if they couldn t or wouldn t really protect you. You had to take the
good stuff where you could get it.
Things were almost worse when my mom stopped talking to me after I came out. I
could deal with being yelled at. I could deal with being hit. But being ignored made me
feel like everyone felt the same way about me that I didn t matter.
College changed that. QCP changed that. I could have a visible influence on
people. I could run an organization. Theater helped more than I could have imagined. I
was integral to the telling of a story, the creating of a world.
Jesse was helping too, though I didn t tell him that. Better to take the good stuff
where I could get it now.
Next year, he d be in New Hampshire.
* * * *
We practiced a mirror routine in Carroll Hall on Sunday. We started with our
hoops around our waists and brought them up around our shoulders. Then we took
them up above our heads on one wrist, passed them down and behind us, onto the
other wrist, and finished with them around our necks.
I high-fived him when we were done. We kick ass, I said.
156 J.A. Rock
I want to work on getting the hoop around my thighs, he said. I can do the arm
and upper body stuff, but not my legs.
Try to get it going around your ass first. Build some momentum. Then let it drop
to your thighs.
He tried it around his ass. It fell.
What am I doing wrong?
You have to pop your ass.
He laughed.
I m serious. Pop that ass. That ll keep it up.
He tried again, giving his hips a halfhearted thrust that sent the hoop to the floor.
I said pop it. That was like a nervous tic.
Show me.
I put the hoop just below my hips and set it spinning, then demonstrated the art of
the ass pop.
Like that, I said.
Um. Could you do that again?
Perv. You try.
Ten minutes later, he was popping that ass like a pro, and he could keep it around
his thighs for a full ten seconds. Next he wanted to try one leg, which was a bit of a
disaster.
I think first you re gonna have to master balancing on one foot, I said, laughing.
He grinned. Shut up.
I got my hoop going around one ankle and jumped into it and out of it with my
other foot each time it came around.
You look like you ve been doing that since birth.
Calling the Show 157
We went back to hooping around the waist, which we did for nearly ten minutes
without talking. It was so relaxing, and I loved the feeling of my muscles contracting
and expanding, the way they subconsciously anticipated the motion of the hoop.
I let my hoop drop. Can we try something? I asked.
Okay.
I retrieved my extra-large hoop. Tandem hooping, I said.
Like the Emilys?
Like the Emilys.
That s gonna be a bastard.
Maybe at first.
You ever done it?
Nope. I put the hoop around both of us. We can do it front to front or back to
front. Most videos show back to front. The Emilys do it both ways. I got behind him.
How close do we have to
I stepped forward so that I was pressed completely against him, my chin on his
shoulder. Really close. We want our bodies to move as one.
He leaned back into me.
Do just what you d do if you were in the hoop alone. Ready?
I gave the hoop a push. I rocked back, he rocked forward, and the hoop fell to the
ground. He bent to pick it up, his ass pushing against my groin.
It s a slight lean back, then a rock forward. Okay? I said.
Got it.
We tried again. This time the hoop circled us once before it fell.
The third time, as soon as I let the hoop go, I grabbed him around the waist,
moving him the way I wanted us to move. He resisted only a second, then let me guide
him back and forth. Our hips worked together to keep the hoop up. He wasn t sure
158 J.A. Rock
quite what to do with his arms, so he held them out in front of him. I put my hands on
his forearms and let him feel my rhythm. We managed about fifteen seconds worth of
hooping.
That was good, I said.
Kinda hard for me to concentrate with your dick jammed against my ass.
Too bad. Cause this boner s not going anywhere as long as I m all up on you like
this.
The next time, I didn t grip him so tightly. The hoop fell quickly, though, because
he was trying to rub his ass against my hard-on.
Focus on the hoop, I scolded.
On take five, we nailed it. We both fell into a slow, lazy rhythm, moving together
like we didn t know any other way to move. I gave a sigh of pleasure and pulled him
just slightly closer to me.
This is amazing, he said.
I know. Fucking look at us.
I reached down, placing my arms inside the hoop, and held the bulge in the front
of his jeans lightly.
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