[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
stroking the side of my face again.
A part of me wanted run toward the casket and embrace his body, but I refrained from
doing so.
I changed ever since he died. I felt like a new man.
He helped me grow. I wasn t selfish anymore. I had given up the love of my life to the
cause.
I could be an adult and I could watch as my beloved was lowered into his grave.
As his casket was lowered, it hit me. Lucas was dead.
My worst fear had come true.
My fiancé was dead.
Even though police caught the guy who stabbed him, it didn t matter to me. The skinhead
was sentenced to a mere eight years in prison for cold-blooded murder. How was that justice?
The police told me that the motive was to stop the gay marriage movement from gaining
steam. Strike the shepherd and the sheep would scatter. The skinhead was from some white
supremacist group who hated gays, lesbians, blacks, Asians and anyone else who wasn t like
them.
And my fiancé, being the visible and outspoken symbol of the group, had been sacrificed.
As someone sang Amazing Grace, I looked at Lucas tombstone. It read Freedom Fighter.
He truly was.
From up above, thunder rumbled.
I looked up.
It finally began to rain.
The downpour drenched everyone and caused all but the staunchest of supporters to run for
cover.
Soon, the rain disappeared and the sun peeked out shyly from behind the clouds.
A rainbow landed on Lucas grave, highlighting the words Freedom Fighter.
Standing there in front of his grave and seeing that rainbow, I was transported back in time,
back when I was ten and my dog had died.
My father had pointed out that rainbow to me. He wanted me to look on the bright side of
life. So had Lucas.
When I was sad and suicidal that day in high school, he said there was much beauty in life.
I just had to look hard enough.
He was right. There the rainbow was, shining on Lucas. He was the beauty in life.
Then, I thought of all the good times we had together. I remembered how he had comforted
me when I was sad. I remembered how he had prevented my near suicide. Then I remembered
how we went to San Pasqual Park and talked and laughed and kissed. How young and carefree
we were. Finally, I remembered giving my heart and soul and virginity to him that hot summer
night. I remembered that I had swallowed his semen so that I would always have a part of him
with me.
Perhaps beauty could arise from tragedy after all.
As I thought about how he had touched me, I started laughing uncontrollably.
Soon, the wind began whipping my body and soul, but still, I laughed.
People stared at me as though I was crazy, but I did not care.
Lucas was in my life once.
I was laughing because I was happy I had Lucas once. Hell, I still had him.
Screw the cruel wind and its relentless attack on me. I, and only, I controlled my reaction
and perspective and emotions. Nothing else did.
God damn it, I was going to be happy. And nothing could stop me.
***
Part 3
Sacramento, California, 2015
Chapter 10
During the years after Lucas death, I slowly descended into a kind of workaholic madness
from which I never recovered. For 16 years, I channeled all my rage and energy into fulfilling
Lucas lifelong dream: equal marriage rights for gays and lesbians.
I became a hardworking lobbyist in Sacramento, the state capitol. The diehard Republican
Dave Sampson won the race for governor and blocked every attempt even to have Proposition 15
on the ballot. Fortunately, he was voted out of office after one term but the subsequent governor,
also a Republican, refused to put it on the ballot.
Now, 16 years later, someone else, a Democrat, John Morgan, was in power. He was
determined to push that referendum through and he did. It took 16 years even to see it on the
ballot.
I worked day and night. I posted ads and posters and attended and spoke at rallies. I
marched in parades. I scrounged up hundreds of volunteers for the cause.
The death of Lucas fired people up. His death was a rallying point for hordes of LGBT
activists. The movement gained momentum. People were angry. People from all walks of life,
gay or straight, black, white, Asian and everything in between, young and old, men and women,
were all fed up with the inequalities in our society. They were rising up and taking action. The
death of one innocent person who had fought hard for equal rights for all was inspiring millions.
And I, as the partner of the deceased symbol of equal rights, was their leader. I, Justin, a
person who once expressed doubt that one person could make a difference. A person who even
refused to march alongside him, fearing for our safety. A person, who once did not
wholeheartedly support the equal rights movement, a person who even asked his boyfriend to
quit the movement out of selfishness.
I did not want to lose him. Why couldn t someone else take up the torch? But now, I
understood. Lucas had to die for the greater good. One person had to die in order to spur millions
of others to take action.
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]