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Mom was my last hope for me to help cope with what and who I was. I wasnow alone with Dad. Dad was in the army. He was a Master Sergeant andworked at ...he nearby base, the training center they called it. I'd seenhim a few times at work while Mom and I were in the base. Mom said Dad wasa drill sergeant. Because he was 'drill' he was un-human with others. Idreaded my Dad. He couldn't be different at home than at work. Or couldhe? I was avoiding him. He was what I was afraid of becoming, not that. "Such heteronormative scenes," I told him in the Harlem Renaissance nightclub. "Oops, I spoke too soon." Those three dudes are certainly skilled at playing each other's flutes," Quigley declared as the upbeat jazz hummed on the speakers. A bouquet of bathtub gin wafted through the air. I shimmied my derriere along with the music and shook the nerves from my goosebumped forearms, hoping to relieve the awkwardness of the situation. Quigley danced along with me. I could tell he was anxious as. More

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