Chapter 1: A Plane Ride

We start our story on my favorite place, High up in the air. (Sarcasm)

The plane shook underneath my body. I hated flying but I always seemed to find myself up in the air. My hand grabbed at the arm rests on my sides. The blood was rushing from my knuckles all the way to my head. My eyes shut and I tried to put myself in a happy place. I preferred to fly alone. Where I could throw up and not have people gawk at me for the rest of the few hours we shared together. The black ring around my left thumb shook against the turbulence.

I don’t think it was the plane ride that was making me sick. It was more of the situation I was flying into. The man next to me cleared his throat, “It looks like you’re flying into death.” It was almost as if he was reading my mind. “Is there a funeral you’re attending?” My eyes cracked open slightly to see the older man’s brown eyes looking over at me.

I licked my lips and attempted to talk to him. “My brother’s funeral,” I said it quickly hoping to not lose my stomach.

“Figured as much,” the man took a deep breath and flicked the paper in his wrists. My eyes cracked open again and I looked at the man once more. His brown hair was gelled to one side. A briefcase sat on top of his lap. A suit covered his large body. It showed me that he was a real deal business man. To prove my point I looked at the paper he was reading. On the top of the page it read ‘Business’ in large bold letters.

The brown circles looked to the side and caught me staring. “How’d your brother die?” He asked and started to fold the paper.

“He was hit by a drunk driver on his way home from school.”

The man opened his brief case and placed the tan paper inside. The buckles snapped loudly and he lowered it to the floor beneath us. “That must be hard on your family. How are they taking it?”

My head shook. Talking was actually relaxing me. My hand left the arm rests and wrapped together in my lap. “Wouldn’t know,” I smirked with a shrug of my arms. “I haven’t spoken to them in about six years.”

The man folded his legs, “That’s a long time. Is there a reason behind this?”

I nodded and picked at my fingernails. “I wasn’t what they wanted me to be.”

He smiled and leaned his head back on the head rest. “Let me guess. Your parents wanted you to become a brain surgeon and you wanted to be a rock star.” A snorted sort of laugh left my face. I covered my mouth embarrassed. The man also laughed, “Let me try once more. You’re a drug addict.”

I shook my head once more and he lifted his head up. “Wrong again I suppose?”

“Very,” I smiled brightly at him. I was amazed at his calmness. The plane was rattling around and he didn’t seem to notice.  “It’s actually quite typical, something that happens to a lot of people like me.”

“People like you,” his deep voice hummed low in his chest.

“Gays,” I spoke low.

The man smiled, “Ah, those.” His hand wrapped around his wrist and he pulled up his dress shirt to expose a rainbow bracelet. I loosened up realizing he didn’t care what I was. “Your parents didn’t accept your lifestyle choice I guess.”

I shook my head without hesitation. “I didn’t really tell them at the right time, or the right place.”

“This I have to hear,”

My chest jumped with laughter. “You see, there was this girl.”

He turned in his seat, “this just got interesting didn’t it?”

Again the smile was slapped on my face. “We were high school sweethearts. I knew full well who I was, but in Montana you can’t be who you are. There’s a certain standard there. If you aren’t a cowboy you play football. If you don’t play football you play Basketball. Well if you don’t any of those you’re a girl or a queer and they don’t like queers.”

“So what did you play?”

My brain thought back to the memories, “Baseball. Not as manly as football but it did just fine for what I was trying to accomplish.”

“What’s the girl’s name?” He rested his arm on the plastic stand between us.

My eyes looked down to the bluish carpet beneath our feet. “She was Terry Hunsaker, the most talented and beautiful girl at our school. Her blonde hair ran straight down her thin back. Blue eyes pierced in the center of her face with the symmetry of attractiveness. She was a cowgirl in almost every sense of the word. On weekends she’d be found riding her horses around. She always wore wranglers and boots. Pink cowboy hats always topped off her attire. She was the talk of the town. Her beautiful country singing voice could be heard for miles around. She got that talent from her mother. ”

“How’d you end up with her?”

My shoulders shrugged, “Charm and luck I guess. We had a science project together in the ninth grade. I went over to her house when her parents were gone and she kissed me. My first kiss was in the middle of Styrofoam balls painted as planets.” The man smiled and leaned in slightly to hear me better. “From that day on we dated. We fought a lot I remember that, but we shared a lot of love. I guess in a way she was my best friend.”

“But you knew who you were of course? That’s almost impossible not to know.”

I nodded, “I did. I didn’t want to believe it though. Every day I would go to school or go home only to be told how horrible gays and queers were. It was something I was ever aloud to be.”

The man sighed, “So you stayed with her.”

“I did, all the way through high school.” I shifted in the seat to get myself more comfortable. “Then it was time for college. We’d both gotten in to MSU in Bozeman. Our families lived around Bozeman. Close enough for us to visit most every weekend. The town was small enough that everyone knew you and you knew everyone else.  Our families were both farming families. Our dad’s were drinking buddies. Our mothers would sew together and swap recipes. We were bound to be together. So at the ripe age of 18 I jumped into marriage.”

The man let out a swooshing noise and leaned back. “That’s early and a little rash.”

“I’ll say.” I focused my attention on my hands below. “We lasted about two years until I finally couldn’t take it anymore. I had to be myself no matter what the cost.”

“What’d you do?”

“Something rash and stupid, much like getting married. Terry had planned a large family dinner for both of our sides. My five siblings were there. Her four younger sisters were there along with her parents. Everyone was getting along fine except for me. My father brought up the topic of the latest reality show. They actually had a Queer on TV. ‘Them Queers will take over I tell Ya, Martha.’” I quoted my father and bulged out my arms trying to be like him. The man next to me smiled. “The discussion turned into a queer bashing marathon. Jokes and stories were being told right and left. Terry let out a few of her own stories about kids from school she had met. It was finally all too much. I slid away from the table and stood up.

My father yelled out loudly, ‘where you going boy? Can’t take a few harmless jokes?’ I remember exactly what I said. I spun on my heels as I was leaving the room. I shoved my thumb into my chest and yelled loudly ‘this queer can’t.’ The room went dead silent after that.”

The man laughed loudly next to me. “I wish I could’ve seen their faces.”

“Me too,” I added. “I left the room. The last person I saw was Terry. She slapped me across the face and screamed at me until I left. At one point she had a wooden spoon and was beating my back with it.”

He laughed next to me, “You did the right thing. It could’ve gone on a lot longer. You could’ve had kids. Then where would you be? Where would they be?”

“Oh there’s no doubt that I did the right thing. It’s who I am and I’ve learned to deal with it. Sometimes that happens.”

He nodded. The pilot came over the loud speaker, “We’ll be reaching Belgrade, Montana in about ten minutes.” The sound cut off with a crack and the seat belt lights beeped on. Stewardesses started to prepare for the landing.

“So you ran off to New York?”

My head shook, “For awhile. I always wanted to be a photographer. I went there and tried my talent. That’s when I realized I was no good.” He smiled and leaned back. He buckled his seatbelt and cleared his throat. “That’s when I started writing. When my first book was published my agent moved me out to L.A.”

“What’s the name of your book?”

“Young and the Heartless,” it was easy for me to talk about my work now. “It’s about these two boys-”

The man nodded, “I know. I’ve read it. You know this whole time talking to you I’ve wondered where I’d seen you before. I guess it was on the back of your book.”

I nodded, “that would’ve been me.”

“It was fabulous. I’ve read it twice now.”

“Thank you.” I whispered. Once people realized who I was everything changed. I was now the celebrity that they knew. He’d go off drinking and tell everyone who he met on his flight out to Montana.

“Perhaps you should write a book about your life. It seems rather interesting.”

I’d heard that before. It wasn’t something I was interested in. My life was nothing more than average. I’m just a normal gay man out in the world trying to find himself. My book would be nothing more than boring.

          “Forgive me you must think I’m awful. Dakota Browne, it’s wonderful to meet you.” I shook his pale hand and leaned back in my chair.

 Again my hands went to the arm rests and I clenched onto the plastic support with all my strength. The descent into hell, that’s what I was waiting for now.

Author's Note

I know there will be mistakes. Trust me! Just let me know if you like the story and all that jazz. Thanks!