Music From Another World - Robin Talley Page 0,125

myself,” she was saying. “I’m Mrs. Amanda Dale, wife of the Reverend Russell Dale from New Way Baptist Church in Ocean Valley. I wanted to let you know that my husband and I are available for interviews to offer up the Christian viewpoint on the militant homosexual element assembled here.”

The reporter replied in a low voice I couldn’t make out. Aunt Mandy clearly hadn’t seen Tammy yet, but the distance between them was far too short, and Tammy’s cheeks were pale.

Maybe she was in shock. Maybe I should push her to the back of the group.

I glanced at Peter, trying to silently ask his opinion, but before I could do anything Tammy darted past me. The reporter was still talking, but Aunt Mandy’s eyes flicked over in our direction.

Just as the reporter turned to the photographer, Tammy stepped out into full view. Aunt Mandy’s eyes widened, her lips narrowing.

The rest of our group went quiet. I didn’t hear the pro-Prop 6 protesters making much noise, either. Until—

“Tammy?” The voice came across a distance, but the word was clear. Carolyn sounded as if she’d just seen someone climb out of a grave. “Is that you? What happened to your hair?”

Tammy glanced in Carolyn’s direction, then looked away fast. Her gaze landed on the group of blond women, and I caught the moment she made eye contact with her mother for the first time.

Mrs. Larson held Tammy’s gaze. She looked scared, disappointed, and remorseful, all at the same time. It wasn’t all that different from the way my own mother looked at me this morning.

That woman at Gay Freedom Day, with the I LOVE MY GAY SON sign—could she possibly be real? Are there mothers like that? Or is that only a fairy tale kids like us want to believe?

“Tammy.” Aunt Mandy abandoned the reporter—who as far as I could tell wasn’t that interested in talking to her, anyway—and charged toward us, that sick smile sliding onto her face. She swept her gaze right past Peter and me, as though we were insects she didn’t need to bother stepping on. “I hope you aren’t here to cause trouble for your mother.”

Tammy stared, her breath coming in heaves. Aunt Mandy glanced around, as though realizing for the first time that the rest of us could hear her, too.

“You know, your uncle and I never stopped praying for your salvation.” Her smile widened. She and Tammy were the same height, but only because Aunt Mandy was wearing heels. “It may not be too late for you to accept God’s love.”

“What’s going on?” The new voice sounded jarringly similar to Tammy’s. It was her mother, hurrying up to stand beside Carolyn. The younger blond women—Tammy’s sisters—were following behind her. “Tammy? You…you’re here?”

“Mom.” Tammy’s voice was a tiny squeak. Her lip trembled, her eyes softening.

“You ran away. We didn’t know—We didn’t mean to—After what happened, we…”

Mrs. Larson trailed off, and Tammy shook her head. I don’t think she could’ve spoken if she’d wanted to.

“I must say…” Aunt Mandy’s voice rose up, sensing her advantage in Tammy’s paralysis. “Your friends here, these avowed sinners—” she glanced at me again for the briefest of seconds, and my fists clenched at my sides “—they’re weak. It’s sad, really. They’re selfish, focusing solely on pleasure, because they don’t understand the sacrifices we Christians have made. But you know better, Tammy.”

“Yeah, well, if you want, we can pray for your salvation next. If you think God’ll listen to a bunch of avowed sinners, I mean.”

Everyone froze. Peter turned toward me, slowly.

It took me a long moment to realize I’d said that out loud.

I bit my lip. They were all looking at me now.

Tammy. Her mom. Aunt Mandy. My friends behind me. The reporter and photographer were watching, too.

I lifted my chin.

“You’re the one who’s selfish.” I locked my gaze on Aunt Mandy. Her smile twitched. “We’re out here because we believe we have the right to fall in love. You’re here because you hate people who are different from you. Who do you think God would agree with?”