Dreaming of Dollywood II

“Simon, put that away!” Jane swatted at Simon’s hand.

“Stop being such a prude, Jane!” Simon pulled away from her and proceeded to lay out an array of objects on the picnic table, “Mama’s asleep, anyway.”

“What in the Sam Hill have you got there?” I squirmed in my seat. I could guess what my nephew was getting ready to do.

Simon looked at me with a world of impatience and exasperation. There was some mischief in his eyes as well. “You said you’d always wanted to try it,” he shrugged.

Spencer laughed.

“You callin’ my bluff?” I asked. I ain’t never backed down from a challenge and I could hardly do so now with my nephew. Pride was at stake.

By way of response he handed me a little, thin white roll. I took it. I’m not ashamed to admit my heart was racing. I felt like a school girl all over again, sneaking cigarettes from Daddy’s desk. Simon’s lighter flared to life and I leaned forward to catch it. I inhaled long and deep. And then. Then I started coughing like my lungs were trying to jump outta my body.

Simon, Jane and Spencer all laughed.

I glared at them while Jane took the joint, glanced toward the trailer where Bernie was sleeping, then took hit, slow and cool, like she’d done it a thousand times. She probably had.

When it came back to me Spencer said, “Take a smaller hit and just let it sit for a minute, then let it out real slow.”

By the time I handed it back to Jane my head was swimming. Not in a bad way, it just felt light. Lighter than my body, which had suddenly become heavy as bricks.

“She’s baked already” Jane laughed.

“Am not,” I tried to snap, only instead I laughed when smoke came out of my mouth as I said the words. Good god, everything was funnier than it should have been.

Simon crept into the camper and came back with a bottle of wine and four plastic cups. He moved like a dancer, prancing from person to person, pouring us wine.

“You sure are faggy, aren’t you?” I asked as he poured my glass.

“You sure are bitchy, aren’t you?” he asked without missing a beat.

I cracked up at that. We all laughed loud and hard for a long time.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” I finally said, wiping tears from my eyes.

“Does it bother you?” Spencer asked, “I mean, really, does it bother you that your nephew’s queer?”

A minute ago everything seemed so funny. Now my brain felt thick, my tongue felt like it had become cotton. Simon and Spencer both looked at me, seriously, Simon with a little fear in his eyes. I stared back at them for a long time, figuring out what to say and how to get it out of my foggy head.

Finally I shook my head, “No, not really. We always knew you were who you were. When you were little you insisted on wearing pink and always wanted to go to Jane’s dance classes. Nearly drove your mother crazy. Your dad was steadier, less afraid of what it meant. I guess I just didn’t know what it really meant. Your mom was sad and angry, your dad was cool and quiet. Never seemed like my business.”

Spencer nodded.

“You love to torment Mama about it, though,” Simon said quietly. Jane reached over and squeezed his hand.

I grunted a laugh, “Yeah, well, it was always easy to get under your mama's skin. Guess I liked not being the only one she prayed and fretted over. Whenever she scolded me for not going to church or smoking I’d remind her about her son and that would shut her up.”

“You think I’m the one who’s easy to get under her skin but you’re just the same, Laverne.”

All of us jumped. Spencer spilled his wine and Jane dropped the joint. There was Bernie, in her flannel nightgown and hair curlers, standing on the camper steps.

Jane let out a last puff of smoke, “Hi Mama,” she said, laughing.

Bernie looked at us stunned, as we all started laughing. Things got funny again for a minute. Then Bernie did something none of us expected. She came down from those steps, reached for the joint on the ground, and took a giant puff. She took two giant puffs and sat down on the bench next to Jane. “What?” she asked when we wouldn’t stop staring, our mouths hanging wide open and our eyes fit to pop out of our heads. That got us all laughing again, even Bernie.