QUEERS AND FEARS, THE PRICE OF PREJUDICE

QUEERS AND FEARS. BY MATTHEW LUCAS BECKETT “And with that signature,” said the reporter on The 5:00 TV. News. “Simply being Gay in The United States of America becomes an offense punishable by death. In other news. . .” I never learned what that other news was, though, because I had to turn the TV. off before Mark put his foot through it. “Damn them,” said my little brother. “I just figure out who I really am, after three years of confused searching, and then they make it a Capital Offense.” “Well,” I said, trying hard to calm him before anyone less sympathetic heard through the open window. “You'll just have to be careful.” “As in hide who I truly am from everyone,” he replied. “Well, that shouldn't be too hard, since I've been doing it for a year from everyone but you and Dave, even our parents.” Dave, my husband, while I was a Heterosexual Woman and he a Heterosexual Man, was much less judgmental than the rest of our family, he and I being the only ones Mark had felt safe to tell that he was Gay without fear of total rejection. Dave and I sympathized with Mark, but of course, across town, not all of our family was having this reaction. “Good,” said MR. Bullhead. “Now people like that can be hunted down and shot like the dogs they are.” “They'll still get a trial,” said his friend Puck, who was a Police Officer. “It can't be mob rule, even with this, or society will collapse.” “Yes,” said MR. Bullhead. “But if there is an immediate threat of penetration from a fag, on a cop or someone else, it's now the same as if they are about to shoot someone, so then deadly force can be used. My son Mark, daughter Lisa and son-in-law Dave are coming over for dinner tonight. Would you like to stay?” “Like to yes,” said Puck. “Can I, no, however. It's the first night of Queer Patrol, since we've known this was coming and been preparing fir it for months. We want to make a strong showing the first night, so they won't show themselves again. So, I'd better be going. Say high to the kids for me.” “I'll do that,” said MR. Bullhead. “Go out there are cuff a queer for me.” Puck nodded, then left. Tragically, this night was not to go as anyone expected. “Mark,” I said. “Come on. We're having dinner with Dad. You don't need to look ready for romance with our father.” Dave was already waiting in the car, and I had been ready for at least fifteen minutes. When Mark finally emerged, my lower jaw hit the floor. His golden blond hair was more washed, pressed and shiny than I had ever seen it. His clothes were perfect, more perfect than I had ever seen them. He had done a shaving job like I had never seen. There was not even the slightest hint of a hair anywhere on his face, not even peeping out of his rather large nose, a place he'd never managed to get completely clean of hair before. His colored contacts emphasized the green of his eyes more than ever, and his teeth looked whiter than I ever remembered them being. But most of all I noticed what I did not see, the scar across his right cheek from the dog attack when we were children. “I see my countenance surprises you, Lisa,” he said with a brilliant smile. “Yes, I know how to do make-up. I have been in the theater most of my life, after all. I know we're going to Dad's, but who knows? I might find someone and get lucky later on on this last night, since they cannot possibly be ready to enforce this new law immediately.” I was not sure whether to smile or scream, so I shook my head and went out the door. Dad was puzzled by Mark's appearance when we arrived. “I have a big date later tonight,” Mark explained, leaving out that it was with someone he had not yet met and that that someone would be a man. Dinner was delicious food wise but scarce in conversation, since the one thing that I knew was on all of our minds was the one thing that we all knew we couldn't discuss. Fortunately, Dad did not bring it up either. After dessert and a drink, we drove back to our place and Dave and I headed for bed, since we did have work the next day. Mark, however, being in the summer between High School and College and so not having any immediate responsibilities, said that he was heading out for a night of fun. “Be very careful,” I called after him. He smiled and waved. I wish he'd listened. GOD how I wish he'd listened. “First night out on Queer Patrol, Officer Puck Triggerfinger reporting in,” I said into my radio as I drove around,looking for illegal Queer Activity. “No sign of any Fag. .. wait, young male, dressed the part, approaching. No sirens, I don't want to frighten off a collar or frighten an innocent.” “Can I help you, Officer,” said a voice that did not seem right coming from a man and that was vaguely familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. “Depends,” I said in my huskiest official police sounding voice. “What are you doing out here, Young Man?” “Looking for Love,” he said. “Or at lest one night of. . .companionship.” My first Queer Collar, I thought excitedly. Well, on his head be it. They should just have kept quiet. Whatever sentence he gets, he deserves. But, of course, I had to wait for an actual proposition to act. “Well,” I said. “Out on the street is an odd place to do that. Why not one of The Singles Clubs?” “I don't think they serve the kind of drink I'm looking for,” said the. . .could I even say Young Man, he looked little more than a boy. His words confirmed what I already suspected, but I still needed more to make an arrest. “I know some places,” I said, which was true, I did, even though the only place I was really taking him was The County Lockup. “Why don't you get in. These streets are dangerous at night, especially for one so young.” He hesitated at first, but then came a scream from the darkness and he quickly got in. Once inside, he looked me over. “Or we could just go somewhere,” he offered. I had enough there to bring him in, but this was my first arrest of this nature, and I wanted to be sure it stuck, so I agreed to go to a nearby motel in a neighborhood where people didn't ask too many questions. I wish I had just arrested him. GOD how I wish I had just arrested him. When we reached the motel, we checked in and were alone in a room in seconds. Then we each began to undress, he clearly enjoying this a lot more than me. Once we were both naked, we climbed into the bed and began caressing each other. I felt his erection moving towards my mouth. It was time. From beneath the pillow, I removed my handcuffs and started to slap them on him. “You are under arrest for Queer Activity,” I said. “What?” he cried. “I thought.. . You tricked me. . .that's entrapment. . .and besides. . .” His words failed as he jammed his penis into my unwilling mouth and began ejaculating, clearly having come too far to stop. “This is assaulting a Peace Officer,” I shout, “stop or. . .” I break off as I feel a second round of ejaculating start in my mouth. Without a second thought, knowing only that this is assault and so I am justified, I grab my Service Revolver from under the bed, set it against his madly pumping chest, and fire. He goes still at once. But in the moment before his life empties completely, our eyes at last meat. “Mark?” I gasp in horror. “Puck?” he replies with a wheeze, and then my best friend's only son dies in my arms.