Something She Can Feel

“Oh, hell, no,” Jr chided.

“No, let’s stop pretending,” my mother went on worriedly. “We all know. Let’s just let it go and move on.”

“No, we won’t, not in this house,” my father declared.

“Gay?” Nana Jessie repeated, looking at Justin. “You’re gay?”

“Oh, no,” I sighed.

“But that’s not it, Mama,” Justin said and I turned to look at him.

“What?” I asked.

“I mean, I am gay,” he went on.

“That’s it; stop it!” My father banged his fist on the table and we all jumped.

“No, Dad, you stop. I’ve been living this stupid lie all of these years because of you. And I’m not going to hide anymore.”

My father, shocked by Justin’s unusual defiance, fell back in his chair and glared at my mother.

“Do you all want to know why I haven’t been coming home?” Justin began. “I’ve been hiding myself in Atlanta because I’ve been living as a woman for two years.”

For the first time since I sat down, I looked directly across the table at May. I had to see—to see if someone else had heard what I’d heard. Because all there was now was silence. But looking at May, it was clear this was because they all indeed had witnessed the same thing. And then my mother groaned.

“Oh, no, Justin,” she said, her voice emptied of confidence.

Next to him, Nana Jessie’s face flattened.

“Boy, you stop it!” my father shouted.

“I’m going through my changes right now,” Justin said, continuing his revelation in the din of our objections.

“Changes?” my mother asked.

“Surgically. I’m having sexual reassignment surgery.”

“Sexual reassign ... what?” Nana Jessie asked, holding her ear out.

“I’m getting a sex change.”

I looked at Justin and realized that the weight I thought he’d put on at the school was actually a bust line and even though he was sitting, on his little frame, exactly the opposite of my father’s and Jr’s, his hips had widened.

“Are you serious?” I asked, still putting the whole thing together in my mind.

“Baby brother,” Jr said, chuckling cruelly. “I always knew you were a sissy. Now, I know you were always a girl.”

“Fuck you,” Justin shot back.

“Oh, now you’re talking like a girl, too ... wonderful.”

“You two stop it,” my mother jumped and I could hear in her voice she was crying. “You stop and Justin, you go and just—” Her voice cracked and she began crying into a napkin she was holding.

“Mama,” Justin said, getting up and going to my mother, “I’m not trying to hurt you. This is who I am. It’s who I’ve always been.” He massaged her shoulders and tried to wipe her tears, but there was no consoling her.

“You let go of my wife!” my father hollered. “You’ve done enough in this house.”

“Your wife?” Justin looked at my father like he was looking at a stranger. “She’s my mother.”