Page 43 of Talk to Me

If Theo made a video, people would know that Theo was guilty of something since no name was mentioned, but he assumed it was about him. Not responding to the video meant that Theo felt guilty and didn’t want to draw more attention to the issue. People would be mad that he had apparently done something horrible and hoped to simply get away with it.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, making Theo look up. “He’s diabolical.”

Another chuckle emanated from Theo.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve learned that about him. Wish I’d learned it sooner.”

I thought about the situation at hand, what Ben had said in his video, and how students at Midway were reacting to it. There really was no way around the gauntlet Ben had thrown down, seemingly for his own amusement.

“If there’s one thing my slightly over two years of studies have taught me about communications, it’s this,” I said. “One should never publicly respond when they’re feeling emotional about something. And you should never feel compelled to make a comment simply because someone is practically daring you to do it.”

Theo looked up at me.

“Then what do I do?” Theo groaned. “Just get used to dealing with people treating me like shit for the rest of my life?”

“No,” I said, thinking. “You shouldn’t let people treat you like shit. However, you should just keep on curating your Peepers account like you have for the last several weeks and months. Post animal videos and whatnot. Don’t be flippant and unbothered, but be your genuine self. Don’t give people a reason to think you feel guilty, but also not like you aren’t thoughtful about the events that have taken place.”

“I don’t know,” Theo said.

“Post the video you have of Arthur’s story,” I said finally. “You were excited to hear his story, other people will be, too. That’s real. And it has absolutely nothing to do with you, Ben, or this Peepers drama.”

“But then I’ll feel like I’m using Arthur to cover up some drama,” Theo said, shaking his head. “I don’t want to use him as a shield.”

“That’s not what this is,” I said. “You were planning to post it eventually anyway. So, post it now. Arthur was excited to be included on your Peepers account, so you have his blessing. Then post some other videos about your day-to-day life like you’ve been doing. Eventually, you can make a video telling everyone that you’ve thought about things that have been said and done, and you prefer to rise above it. What’s done is done, you hope everyone finds happiness, love, light, all that bullshit, and you’re concentrating on leading a good life with the same.”

Theo laughed.

“Happiness, love, light, and all that bullshit?” He chuckled as he parroted me.

I smiled at him.

“I don’t know,” he said, though he seemed to be thinking about it.

“Trust me,” I said. “Arthur will be thrilled he got to be on your account—and that his video was used to shut up a smarmy little white twink.”

Bursting with laughter, Theo pulled his phone from his pocket.

“Okay,” Theo said. “You convinced me.”

“Well, this man acted as though I should be terrified. As though I’d never heard some musty white dude call me a before,” Arthur’s voice came from my phone as I stared at the video. “You’d think that kind of would be less common in New York City, even back then. But I’d say it could be even worse than rural parts of the country at times. Too many crazies in too little an area. Not enough law enforcement and the wrong kind when you were unlucky enough to run across them.”

I was annoyed at the way Peepers’ artificial intelligence censored bad words. Understanding the reasoning behind it, I still felt that when a queer person was giving what was ultimately a queer history lesson, nothing should be beeped. Especially when the race issues intersected with queer issues. And vice versa. With no way to change that, I continued to watch as I sat in the quad with my phone and earbuds Friday morning.

“That’s when he threw the bottle. When he realized I didn’t give a good what he thought of me. He saw the look on my face and threw the bottle. Leaned further out his apartment window and just threw it like a fastball. Missed my shoe by inches. And I wasn’t wearing no busted shoes, either! They were Prada! If Bang Bang hadn’t stolen them and given them to me as a birthday gift, he would have ruined hundreds of my hard-earned dollars!”

Theo’s and my laughter could be heard in the background of the video. Encouraged by our reaction, Arthur smiled and continued.

“Now, child, there comes a time in all of our lives when we all have to rise above the insults and slurs and violence. We have to turn the other cheek. Be the bigger person. Hold our heads up high, straighten our backs and be the person we promised our mommas we’d be. Well, this didn’t feel like it that night.”

More laughter in the background and more grinning from Arthur.

“When I was looking down, making sure my Prada was okay, I saw a toaster laying alongside this trashcan. I snatched it up, and—I guess ole musty white man realized what was up—and he started pushing his window down. I hurled that right through his window. Shattered the whole pane of glass. ‘Who’s the now???’ I screamed up at him. He didn’t even have the nerve to come back to the window or run downstairs and confront me. Punk .”

The laughter swelled in the video, then slowly died off as Arthur grinned. Finally, he took on a serious look and leaned in to the camera.

“Let me tell you something I figured out that night and I still live by today, boy. You hear me?”

“Yes.” Theo’s voice came from the phone.