Citation de Tricia12
"I was your age", Juan Diego said to Hugh O'Donnell's son. "Maybe your dad and I were between your ages", he said to the daughter. "He wasn't very nice to me either," Juan Diego added to the girl, who seemed to be increasingly self-conscious-not necessarily about her much-maligned sweater.
"Hey, look here-"Hugh O'Donnel started to say, but Juan Diego just pointed to Hugh, not bothering to look at him.
"I'm not talking to you-I've heard what you have to say," Juan Diego told him, looking only at the children. "I was adopted by two gay men," Juan Diego continued- after all, he did know how to tell a story. "They were partners-they couldn't be married, not here or in Mexico, where I came from. But they loved each other, and they loved me-they were my guardians, my adoptive parents. And I loved them, of course-the way kids are supposed to love their parents. You know how that is, don't you?"[...]"Anyway", Juan Diego went on, "your dad was a bully. He said my mom shaved-he meant her face. He thought she did a poor job shaving her upper lip, but she didn't shave. She was a man, of course-she dressed as a woman, and she took hormones. The hormones helped her to look a little more like a woman. Her breasts were kind of small, but she had breasts, and her beard had stopped growing, though she still had the faintest, softest-looking trace of a mustache on her upper lip. I told your dad it was the best the hormones could do-I said it was all the estrogens could accomplish-but your dad just keep being a bully."
Hugh O'Donnell had stood up from the table, but he didn't speak-he just stood there.
"You know what your dad said to me?" Juan Diego asked the O'Donnell kids. "He said: 'Your so-called mom and dad are guys-they both have dicks.' That's what he said: I guess he's just a 'That's what I know' kind of guy. Isn't that right , Hugh?" Juan Diego asked. It was the first time Juan Diego had looked at him. "Isn't that what you said to me?"
Hugh O'Donnell went on standing there, not speaking. Juan Diego turned his attention back to the kids.
"They died of AIDS, ten years ago-they died here, in Iowa city," Juan Diego told the children."The one who wanted to be a woman-I had to shave her when she was dying, because she couldn't take the estrogens and her beard grew back, and I could tell she was sad about how she looked like a man. She died first. My 'so-called dad' died a few days later."
Juan Diego paused. He knew, without looking at her, that Mrs. O'Donnell was crying; the daughter was crying, too. Juan Diego had always known that women were the real readers-women are the ones with the capacity to be affected by a story.
Looking at the implacable, red-faced father and his frozen, pink-faced son, Juan Diego would pause to wonder what did affect most men. What the fuck would ever affect most men? Juan Diego wondered.
"And that's what I know", Juan Diego told the O'Donnell kids.
"Hey, look here-"Hugh O'Donnel started to say, but Juan Diego just pointed to Hugh, not bothering to look at him.
"I'm not talking to you-I've heard what you have to say," Juan Diego told him, looking only at the children. "I was adopted by two gay men," Juan Diego continued- after all, he did know how to tell a story. "They were partners-they couldn't be married, not here or in Mexico, where I came from. But they loved each other, and they loved me-they were my guardians, my adoptive parents. And I loved them, of course-the way kids are supposed to love their parents. You know how that is, don't you?"[...]"Anyway", Juan Diego went on, "your dad was a bully. He said my mom shaved-he meant her face. He thought she did a poor job shaving her upper lip, but she didn't shave. She was a man, of course-she dressed as a woman, and she took hormones. The hormones helped her to look a little more like a woman. Her breasts were kind of small, but she had breasts, and her beard had stopped growing, though she still had the faintest, softest-looking trace of a mustache on her upper lip. I told your dad it was the best the hormones could do-I said it was all the estrogens could accomplish-but your dad just keep being a bully."
Hugh O'Donnell had stood up from the table, but he didn't speak-he just stood there.
"You know what your dad said to me?" Juan Diego asked the O'Donnell kids. "He said: 'Your so-called mom and dad are guys-they both have dicks.' That's what he said: I guess he's just a 'That's what I know' kind of guy. Isn't that right , Hugh?" Juan Diego asked. It was the first time Juan Diego had looked at him. "Isn't that what you said to me?"
Hugh O'Donnell went on standing there, not speaking. Juan Diego turned his attention back to the kids.
"They died of AIDS, ten years ago-they died here, in Iowa city," Juan Diego told the children."The one who wanted to be a woman-I had to shave her when she was dying, because she couldn't take the estrogens and her beard grew back, and I could tell she was sad about how she looked like a man. She died first. My 'so-called dad' died a few days later."
Juan Diego paused. He knew, without looking at her, that Mrs. O'Donnell was crying; the daughter was crying, too. Juan Diego had always known that women were the real readers-women are the ones with the capacity to be affected by a story.
Looking at the implacable, red-faced father and his frozen, pink-faced son, Juan Diego would pause to wonder what did affect most men. What the fuck would ever affect most men? Juan Diego wondered.
"And that's what I know", Juan Diego told the O'Donnell kids.
