The Nonconformist
by Ken Cohen
Chapter 3
Kenny
On a map, Greece didn't look like much, but it was bigger than it appeared. The country was surrounded by water on three sides, and hundreds of islands extended it south into the Mediterranean Sea, including the large, mountainous island of Crete. It was a beautiful country with a hot dry climate, and a long and storied history dating back some 3,000 years. When he agreed to go, back when he was 12, it was an exciting prospect.
They learned to play soccer and had games almost every day. Soccer was fun when the bullies weren't kicking you in the shins or tripping you. One thing he could do, he discovered, was outrun most of them, which was odd, he'd never been much of a runner until then. So he started long distance running to find some time away from them. He ran almost every day. By the end of the summer he could run non-stop for over two miles.
In Greece, Danny became known as 'fairy boy'. No one ever called him that before. He had never talked to anyone about his sexuality. At school he knew one boy, Steve Goldman, who seemed kind of girlish but no one at school ever bothered Steve about that. Anyway, Danny didn't think he acted that way. Until he went to Greece, he believed his secret was safe.
The humiliation they put him through went on every day, all summer long. His secret feelings were repeatedly exposed. He couldn't forget it. He had bad dreams about it. He would have to live with the memories.
And now, starting high school, he was afraid one of the bullies would reappear at school.
When Danny Stavros entered King High School in the northern suburbs of Toronto in 1964, you began at grade 10. To go to university, you needed to complete grade 13; otherwise, you could graduate high school after grade 12. University could be completed in three or four years depending on your courses.
Grade 10 began on Danny's 15th birthday.
On the first day of school, he found himself in the language arts class. When he picked his options last spring, he remembered, they said this class would be for kids who take school seriously. He'd already been through years of school with some of them. Most of them weren't strangers.
Yet that first day seemed long. He ate lunch alone.
Leaving at the end of the day, he noticed a boy he vaguely knew standing outside the front entrance, looking serious and a little hesitant. He'd seen him around in junior high school last spring. Slim, dark haired, attractive. An innocent carnal allure both appealing and troubling.
The boy caught his eye, approached him and said, "Hi, Danny, I was hoping I'd see you. I'm Ken. I know we haven't talked before, but would it be okay if I walk home with you?"
He couldn't say no, it wouldn't be nice. He could use a friend.
"Okay, sure."
They walked to the crossing light near the school. After a few moments, waiting for the light to turn green, Ken looked at Danny and said "I'm a nonconformist."
What does he mean by that? Danny wondered.
They walked on in silence.
Another boy he knew, Owen, said hi to Danny as he walked past them in a hurry. Danny watched him go, then looked away. Needing a distraction, he asked, "What do you mean? Nonconformist?"
"Um, I guess you have to think about it. Kind of like, don't you want to figure out what makes you special, who you are, what your special place is in the world? and then be that way, and let everyone know? You know, instead of going along with the crowd, doing what people expect of you without ever thinking about it."
"Oh, yeah, I see what you mean."
"Hey, can you come to my place? I want to talk to you about something but I'd feel a lot more comfortable at home if that's okay with you. If you don't mind, if you have a few minutes to talk."
"Sure," Danny said as they walked on, "but tell me, how do you even know my name?"
"I asked someone who you were, a boy I know, and he told me. He says you're an okay guy. He's lived around here since before the neighbourhood was built, so he knows most of the kids going back to kindergarten."
"What boy?"
"His name's Andy. He's in my class."
"I know him, I think. Andy lives a couple houses away from us, I've known him since we moved here, when I started kindergarten. We never really hit it off, so I guess we're like acquaintances."
"You've lived up here that long? You must have a lot of friends around here."
Danny had no close friends but couldn't admit that. "Um, Andy lived here before us. He told me his dad built his house with the help of friends after he came home from the war. His dad was a veteran from the war, like mine."
"Your dad was in the war?"
Danny described his father's years in the Canadian air force as they walked.
Ken led the way up the driveway of the small bungalow where he lived. The neighbourhood contained hundreds of single storey homes like that, built since the war. They climbed a few steps to the front door. Ken produced a key, unlocked the door and they walked in. "No one's home yet."
There was a vague stale smell of cigarettes. An ashtray with cigarette butts sat next to a black telephone on a little table near the door. Plaster walls, pale beige. Danny dropped his books on the floor, unzipped his jacket, took it off. Ken hung it with his in a little closet. Danny followed him to the kitchen.
"Want a Coke?" Ken asked.
"Sure, thanks."
They sat at a pale formica kitchen table. He poured drinks from a bottle into two glasses and added some ice cubes. Danny looked down at a newspaper on the table. East and West German police in gun battle as woman flees East Berlin.
"Can I trust you?" Ken asked after he sat down. He was looking directly at Danny. "Be honest with me, Danny. Please. I have to be able to trust you with what I want to say."
Danny looked at Ken. A memory from last summer disturbed his thoughts for a moment. Then, "You can trust me. I know how to keep my mouth shut."
Ken stared at him, then spoke quietly. "You looked like you were somewhere else for a minute there. I've watched you, Danny. I've talked to a few guys about you, lots of kids around here know you, everyone thinks you're a good guy, someone who can be trusted. So you have a good rep, but you have to understand, this is really serious stuff for me."
"I understand. Look, whatever this is, it can't be that bad. As long as you don't want to do something stupid like hurt yourself or someone else, that's the only way I would tell anyone, even though I don't know what you're talking about yet.
"I mean, I won't help you rob a bank." He smiled to be reassuring, then continued. "Look, Ken, I won't say a word. You can trust me. I promise. I like you. I wouldn't hurt you."
After a few silent seconds, Ken murmured "I like boys."
"You like boys?"
"I'm, um… attracted to boys. Most boys are attracted to girls, but I'm attracted to boys. I've been like this for years, nothing I can do to change it."
"Mommy, what's a homo?" - "A homosexual is a disgusting man who's mentally ill."
"Oh. I see. Nonconformist, I kind of get it now. That's… not a problem, I would never tell anyone, it's just between you and me. I can keep secrets, it's not a problem. Definitely. Um, besides, I don't see how it's anybody's business except yours. But, why me? You hardly know me. Don't you have friends you can talk to about this?"
"I told my parents, but…"
"You told your parents?"
"Yeah. We just moved here last Christmas. I haven't found anyone else I feel I can trust. I used to see you back in grade 9, and I watched you for a while. I kind of notice things. There's something about you, Danny, it's this sixth sense I seem to have. You need to be careful. You have an eye for the boys. Like me. Sometimes I see you looking at boys, they turn your head. You just did that with Owen while we were walking home. I can't say I blame you, he's cute. Besides, there's something else about you, I can't really put my finger on it. So I thought you might be like me. That's why I'm telling you. You don't have to say anything, I don't expect that. But it's why I'm trusting you."
After another pause, Ken continued. "Can we be friends? I feel like I need someone like me to talk to about my feelings. And if you want, you can talk to me about your feelings too. Real friends can talk to each other about stuff like that. I don't have any close friends."
"Okay, listen, you got it wrong, I'm not looking at anyone, we can be friends.., sure, but, I… I squint a lot, I don't know why, I can't help it, the doctor calls it tics, says it'll go away one of these years. I'm not looking at anyone, it's just tics."
"What you do isn't tics, at least, I've noticed you have tics, but that's not what I'm talking about. Do you know what I mean? You like to look at other guys, and I'm the same way. It's okay, I don't care, you don't have to tell me, I just noticed that… I think that… sometimes you look at other guys the way I do. You know, the way a lot of guys look at girls? That's how I look at boys, and so do you."
"Look, thanks for asking me, Ken. We're friends now but, um, I honestly don't have any feelings to talk about so don't worry about that. I don't really have feelings."
He had to change the subject. "And hey, you really told your parents?"
"Yeah, I did, I can't keep secrets from them. They weren't exactly happy about it, they were kind of upset at first, so they took me to the doctor. I told him I'm attracted to other boys instead of girls. He asked me why I wanted to be a homosexual. I said I didn't want to be but I'm attracted to boys, I can't help it. He said there was nothing he could do. There's no cure for it. He sent me to a psychiatrist, maybe a psychiatrist could help.
"The psychiatrist had a list of dumb questions he asked, like, do I want to be the man or the woman when I have sex with another guy. How am I supposed to know that? Even my dad thought it was dumb. Then he said there's nothing wrong with me, I'm just different, like some kids have brown skin, some are born crippled or left-handed.
"He said some psychiatrists think it's a mental illness. But he thought it's only a problem if I can't adjust to it. I mean, we all go through, you know, changes when we get to be teenagers. As long as I accept it and don't have problems because of it, there's nothing for him to do. He doesn't consider it a sickness.
"It's an attraction I've felt for a few years. I just know there's no way to change it. I don't feel sick. So there's nothing wrong with me. It's how I am. My parents, it took them time but I think they accept it now. I told them it's not like going to the store to try on new clothes and decide I want to wear this or that. It's just the way I am, how I feel. They still say they love me no matter what.
"My dad wanted me to get married and have children. He says I can still do that if I want to. But he's not angry. He understands I'm not doing it on purpose. He worries about me, says it's, like, against the law in Canada for two men to be in love, a lot of men have gone to prison because of that. And he says it's dangerous, some people will say I'm a pervert and might want to hurt me if they know about it."
"Ken, look, I have to be home for dinner. And I have homework to do. Can you believe it? First day and they're giving us homework. Anyway, thanks for trusting me. It's our secret, I promise. We're friends now. If you want to talk more about it, call me any time. I just have to be careful what I say on the phone because my parents are there and might hear."
Danny picked up a pencil from the table and wrote his phone number on a corner of the newspaper. Then he went and found his jacket and school stuff.
"I'll see you at school tomorrow. When do you have lunch?"
"At 12, just like everybody else. I think all the grade 10's and 11's eat at 12."
"Okay, I'll look for you."
He walked out the door, down the concrete steps and across the damp lawn toward the street and home, regretting leaving so quickly.
I like him, he thought, never met anyone so open about secret stuff like that. At least he knows he can trust me. He seems so lonely, I feel kind of sorry for him. I have a new friend. He's beautiful. I shouldn't think like that. His parents must be good people to accept him. If it were mom and I told her, she'd go nuts.
They began having lunch together. Other than that, Danny only saw Ken once that first week, outside a classroom talking with a teacher. Their eyes met for a moment as Danny passed, glancing back, thinking, if only we could… but Ken can trust me. He told me the secret of his life, I'd never hurt him.
That night in his bed, he wondered, how did I end up this way. Something went wrong in my brain. At the beginning of time, humans failed God's test in the garden of Eden. The priest at church told us that in Sunday school. Life is like a big test, God is testing us. If we pass, we'll get into heaven when we die and have eternal life. Why would God give me a test like this? It's unfair to make me feel this way and then send me to hell for it.
Ken seems lonely. Braver than me, telling me his secret like that. I wish we were boyfriends. We could do things together…
His mind wandered. Mom doesn't want me around. I'm a burden, part of the pain she has to bear in life. She once talked about how she was in endless pain for two days until finally they cut her open and took me out because she couldn't deliver me the normal way. My head was too big to be born the normal way, that's what they said.
Weird how that works, how do babies get out of there? What's the normal way?
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