Hold Me Closer Page 4
not what we were expecting when we were
expecting.
But we love him.
Oh, yes, we love him.
TINY (spoken):
You’re okay with this, aren’t you? I’m not going to say I’m sorry. I’m not sorry. The only thing I’m sorry about is keeping it from you for so long. And maybe the peas, because I think Baxter likes them even less than I do.
MOM (sung):
Don’t be sorry.
Never be sorry.
You don’t have to be.
We love you.
We’ll always love you.
Unconditionally.
Tiny and his mother embrace. Then Tiny looks to his father, who’s crying. All dialogue is spoken here, to end of scene.
TINY:
Dad?
DAD (trying to hide his tears):
It’s okay, son. Everything she said.
TINY:
Really?
DAD:
Really.
TINY:
Then I hope you don’t mind . . . I signed us up to be in a mother-daughter fashion show. I thought that would be a great way for me to let everyone know who I am. Is that okay?
The spotlight closes in on Dad. He’s caught.
ACT I, SCENE 7
Tiny’s father takes center stage. As the scenery changes behind him to set up for the scene after this one, he opens up to the audience. He loves his son—there’s no doubt that he loves his son. But still, this is hard for him.
[“WHAT DO YOU DO?”]
DAD:
What do you do when your son
asks you to be in a
mother-daughter fashion show?
Do you pack up and leave
or figure out the best way to say
no, no, no?
It’s a public display,
an embarrassing array
of all the things
you don’t want people to say.
My own father took me fishing
and left me always wishing
that being in that boat
would make us less remote.
But instead we’d sit without speaking,
time together slowly leaking.
Our lines tied in a knot,
the big one never caught.
I told myself that when I became a father
I’d be the type who’d always bother.
I’d get to know my son.
Never scorn, never judge, never run.
In order to be a good father
you have to be a good mother.
You have to take every chance
as if you won’t get another.
My father died
before I could ask the right questions.
Now I ask them anyway
and never get answers.
What do you do when your son
asks you to be in a
mother-daughter fashion show?
I’ll tell you what you do—
You go.
As the audience hopefully applauds Dad and his decision, he goes offstage. The lights go up, and we see the runway for the mother-daughter fashion show assembled. Soon, mothers and daughters (all played by girls, just to make the juxtaposition more effective) are parading in matching outfits to the opening strains of “I KNOW THIS CAN’T BE EASY FOR YOU.” It all climaxes when Tiny and his dad appear . . . in matching outfits.
A note on the outfits: This is not a drag show for Tiny and his dad. Even though there is nothing at all wrong with a boy wanting to wear dresses, there is something wrong with assuming that every gay boy wants to wear dresses. Some might. Some don’t. Tiny was never into that particular Cage aux Folles, so when he suggests his father and he participate in a mother-daughter fashion show, they are dressed the way he wants to be dressed—FABULOUSLY. Needless to say, there should be more sparkle and brightness than Tiny’s dad has ever considered wearing. (Also note: There is also something wrong with assuming that every gay boy wants to wear sparkles and bright colors. Some don’t. I do.)
Tiny and his dad’s entrance leads, of course, to a big production number.
Tiny is somewhat astonished that his father has agreed to do this with him. And Tiny’s dad is very much astonished that he’s at a mother-daughter fashion show. This isn’t like the end of Grease, when Sandy is suddenly liberated by trying on a slutty girl’s clothes. Tiny’s dad is very uncomfortable.
What follows is a reflection of their emotions.
[“I KNOW THIS CAN’T BE EASY FOR YOU”]
TINY:
I know this can’t be easy for you.
DAD:
I won’t try to deny that it’s true.
TINY:
There are other ways of spending a Sunday . . .
DAD:
. . . than walking with your son down the runway.
TINY:
But here we are in matching outfits.
DAD:
Just look at where my waistline sits!
TINY:
Balls out with the family charm . . .
DAD:
. . . trying not to pull the nearest alarm.
TINY (pause, then spoken):
I’m really glad you’re here.
DAD:
I know it can’t be easy for you.
TINY:
I won’t try to deny that it’s true.
DAD:
There must be times when you feel like a target.
TINY:
Which is why I live my life like I’m totally jet-set.
DAD:
I just hope I’m a good father.
TINY:
I just hope I’m a good son.
TINY AND DAD:
I never know—
I only know—
this can’t be easy for you.
They head down the runway.
CHORUS OF ONLOOKERS:
I know this can’t be easy for you.
Just hold your smile
and see it through.
Everybody’s watching—
they always do.
Step forward
and forward
and never forget
the person standing next to you.
TINY:
In so many ways you amaze me.
DAD:
In so many ways you amaze me.
CHORUS OF ONLOOKERS:
I know this can’t be easy for you.
But it can be so many other things too.
TINY:
So hold your smile
DAD:
and see it through.
TINY AND DAD:
Together
we can do this.
You and I.
Here and now.
TINY:
You throw the ball and hope—
DAD:
You catch the ball and run—
TINY:
You walk wide—
DAD:
You walk tall—
TINY:
You don’t hide—
DAD:
You don’t fall—
TINY AND DAD:
Step forward
and forward
and never forget
the person standing next to you.
They make it through. With style.
ACT I, SCENE 8
Tiny comes downstage again, to allow for the scenery to change.
TINY:
Next up was Phil Wrayson. In order to come out to him, I invited him to the Gay Pride Parade in Boystown. For those of you not from the Chicago area, Boystown is, well, the
place in town where boys who like boys go to be boys who like boys and see other boys who like boys. You would think that this destination alone would have been my coming-out statement, but such is the logic of a boy coming out to his best friend that even at a Gay Pride Parade, the conversation needed to be had, no matter how nervous-making it was.
As Tiny is talking, the stage transforms into a Pride parade, complete with drag queens, leather daddies, gay parents, and (if you can fit them onstage) Dykes on Bikes. Phil Wrayson is right there with them, looking out of place, but not self-consciously so.
PHIL (coming up to Tiny):
I’m trying to imagine what the straight equivalent of this would look like.
TINY:
The morning commute?
PHIL:
I was just asked by a drag queen if I was into otters. I’m hoping she didn’t mean that literally. That has to be a nickname for something, right?
TINY (nervously):
Phil, there’s a reason I brought you here.
PHIL (not getting it):
I hope it’s not to pimp me out to otters. Truly, I’m not into otters.
TINY:
Phil, I’m gay.
PHIL (mock-stunned):
No!
TINY (in earnest):
It’s true.
PHIL:
You mean, like, you’re happy.
TINY:
No, I mean, like, that guy is hot.
He points to a hot guy in a skintight yellow tank top—or some such article of clothing. You know, the kind where the guy looks more naked than if he were actually naked?
TINY:
And if I talked to him for a while and he had a good personality and respected me as a person I would let him kiss me on the mouth.
PHIL (appearing not to comprehend):
You’re gay?
TINY:
Yeah. I know it’s a shock. But I wanted you to be the first to know. Other than my parents, I mean.
As Phil continues to mime shock—strike up the band! The music begins.
[“DUDE, YOU COULDN’T BE GAYER”]
PHIL (singing now):
You’re gay?
Next you’re gonna tell me the sky is blue,
that you use girl shampoo,
that critics don’t appreciate Blink-182. Oh, next you’re gonna tell me the Pope is Catholic,
that hookers turn tricks,
that Elton John sucks HEY!
Tiny has shoved him playfully, and the song turns into a call-and-response. The choreography should have them dancing around the Pride parade, not unlike Ewan and Nicole dancing on top of the elephant in Moulin Rouge! At some point, you might want to have the background Pridesters form a Rockettian kickline.
TINY:
But I’m a football player!
PHIL:
Dude, you couldn’t be gayer.
TINY:
I thought my straight-acting deserved Tonys.
PHIL:
You own a thousand My Little Ponies!
TINY:
Is it really so obvious?
PHIL:
Only in the same way that
the sun rises in the east,
The Lion King vilifies the wildebeest,
Harry Potter has a lightning scar,
and Republican politicians can be found sneaking
into every gay bar.
TINY:
I’m gay!
PHIL:
Hey hey hey!
TINY:
Gayer than a three-dollar bill.
PHIL:
Gayer than The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.
TINY:
Gayer than a Fire Island share.
PHIL:
Gayer than bleach-blond hair.
TINY:
I couldn’t be gayer . . .
PHIL:
. . . if you memorized all seven seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer!
TINY:
I couldn’t have a more homo strut . . .
PHIL:
. . . if Neil Patrick Harris was up your WHOA!
TINY:
And you don’t mind?
PHIL:
No more than I mind
the sun setting in the west,
Dolly Parton’s immortal chest,
puffy shirts at a Renaissance Fest,
or little birds chirping cutely in a nest.
You don’t want me, do you?
TINY:
I would prefer a kangaroo!
PHIL:
Phew!
TINY:
True!
PHIL:
So can you abide
me showing some Tiny Cooper pride?
TINY:
No matter which direction I’m facin’ . . .
I’m with Phil Wrayson!
Phil gives Tiny the straight-boy version of a hug, and Tiny engulfs him in response, as the Pridesters cheer and the number ends.
ACT I, SCENE 9
Tiny comes downstage again, as the Pride parade is turned into a locker room.
I will leave the stage directions of the following scene up to your discretion. I know certain members of certain musical societies who like to produce Damn Yankees year after year just so they can have a gratuitous locker-room scene. You know, all the hot chorus members in towels and—whoops—maybe one of them falls a little. Especially if it’s Broadway. There the towels fall a lot. Now, I am not suggesting you pander to the female and gay audience, even if those two demographics make up—what?—98 percent of all musical theatergoers? You decide what Lola wants in this case. And that’s what she’ll get.
TINY:
Persuading Phil Wrayson and my parents to be on my side wasn’t the biggest challenge. Nor were my friends anything less than accepting. There was only one group that I was really worried about—the football team.
It was freshman year, but I was already varsity, on account of my size. These guys barely knew me. And I didn’t know how they’d feel about a gay boy in their midst.
I decided to confront them at the source of their fears: the locker room. It’s something I don’t get at all—almost every homophobic guy’s worst-case scenario is being naked in a locker room with a gay guy. I mean, what’s up with that? After I’ve just scrimmaged my ass off, the last thing I’m looking for is a quickie in the shower stall—with, incidentally, everyone else watching. I mean, come on. Get over your floppy self. If I’m going to ever fall for you, I’m going to do it the right way. I’ll ask you out on a date, not run away with your towel.
Now, the trick was—how to get this across to them all? I wish I could say I thought it all out ahead of time . . . but I don’t really plan my revelations. So it happened when I wasn’t fully expecting it.
The guys—again, wearing whatever you want them to be wearing—have gathered in the locker room, doing locker room things. (Bully #1 and Bully #2 have returned from the baseball scene. I won’t dignify them by giving them names.)
(Note: Phil Wrayson is NOT a member of the football team. We want this to be believable.)
Tiny comes walking into the scene, toweling his hair, singing:
TINY (singing):
I’m going to wash that boy right into my hair
I’m going to wash that boy right into my hair
I’m going to wash that boy right into my hair . . .
(speaking)
Oh, hi, guys.
There’s silence for a moment. Then the bullies go into full attack mode.
[“THE NOSE TACKLE (LIKES TIGHT ENDS)”]
BULLY #1:
The nose tackle likes tight ends!
BULLY #2:
Don’
t drop the soap, boys!
Don’t drop the soap!
BULLY #1:
He’ll penetrate your end zone unless you guard it!
BULLY #2:
Don’t drop the soap, boys!
Don’t drop the soap!
TINY:
Is that it?
Your biggest fear?
That all of a sudden
I’m after your rear?
The locker room isn’t porn for me
because you’re all so goddamn pimple-y.
I want touchdowns, man,
not to touch you there.
And if you have a problem with that
I can’t say I care!
BULLY #1:
The nose tackle likes tight ends!
BULLY #2:
Don’t drop the soap, boys!
Don’t drop the soap!
BULLY #1:
He’s aiming between your goalposts!
BULLY #2:
Don’t drop the soap, boys!
Don’t drop the soap!
TINY:
First of all, the soap is liquid,
so your warning makes no sense.
And for someone who’s so straight and such
I think you doth protest too much.
You can keep in it your strap
’cause you ain’t got nothing I want to tap.
I’ve come to win the game—
and hope you want the same.
BULLY #1:
The nose tackle likes tight ends!
TEAM (EXCEPT FOR BULLIES):
Who cares, boys?
Who cares?
BULLY #2:
He wants you to go long and catch his pass!
TEAM (EXCEPT FOR BULLIES):
Who cares, boys?
Who cares?
We joined this team so we could play,
not to hound you if you are gay.
Welcome, Tiny—ignore the haters.
They’re just inexpert masturbators!
Our nose tackle likes tight ends!
If you attack him, we will defend!
Our nose tackle keeps his eyes on the balls!
Take him on, you take on us all!
Big dance number with the team protecting Tiny and ostracizing the bullies, perhaps with some towel action in homage to the towel number in the 2008 Lincoln Center revival of South Pacific.
At the end, Tiny looks relieved and grateful, proud to be gay and proud to be a part of this team.
TINY (spoken):
Thanks, guys.
The football players leave the stage, and Tiny revels in the security of being part of a team. As we head for the last scene in the first act, we feel he’s in a pretty good place.