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.But we can get you a scholarship if we tell a good enough story.You did badly in some classes, sure, but that was because you were the wrong sex.Or you can get some kind of singing scholarship.”Berry didn’t really believe anything Judy said, but it didn’t matter.It comforted him to know he’d soon be locked up.It made the scary future go away.There was a brochure for a performance school out-ofstate which accepted kids only a little older than Berry.“Don’t get your hopes up,” Judy said.“But they might take you early and let you enter in your new sex.I’ll make brunch, you fill out forms.” She’d printed out some of the forms from the Web using her daisy wheel printer.Others, she’d picked up somewhere.Berry’s hand cramped after a couple hours.The phone rang at noon.They let the answering machine pick up.“Hey, Berry.Gray Redman.I’ve been doing some heartstorming, that’s like brainstorming only you use your heart, and I think I have some ideas.Buzz me.”Judy wanted Berry to call Gray Redman back, but Berry felt too weary.He promised to call later.“Sounds like you have everything figured out anyway.”Another message a while later: “Hey, why aren’t you at school, fairy? I was looking forward to showing everybody your jugs.” Berry recognized Randy’s voice.The background noise sounded raucous enough for the school cafeteria at lunchtime.Either Randy had coaxed the payphone to accept coins, or one of the Swans had lent a cell phone.Berry deleted that message too.“So many calls,” Judy said.For lunch they were eating couscous with leftover salami and salad mixed in.“You obviously have a lot of people who care about you, Berry.How come you’re playing Garbo?”Berry didn’t get the reference.“Whatever they’re all expecting from me, they’re all going to be disappointed.” “You’re being really ungrateful.More couscous? Well, your loss.It’s really good this way.A lot of kids your age starve for attention.”“I’d kill to be left alone.” I already did, Berry thought.“Getting left alone is easy.Getting people to stop leaving you alone once they start is hard.”Berry put his hands over his ears, like he did when he wanted to block all other singers and hear only how his voice sounded inside the echo chamber of his head.The danger of pressing against the bones that meet your eardrums is that you distort the sound of your own voice with skull harmonics.You drive yourself sharp that way.Hours passed.Application forms seemed written by the same people who devised the Book of Common Prayer.Judy had given Berry index cards containing stock phrases for him to sprinkle into his short essay answers, and even into the little blanks on the forms themselves.“I don’t really have an interest in multiculturalism that comes out of my choral background,” Berry told Judy.“Compared to most dirt dumplings your age, you’re a positive cultural studies guru.You don’t watch TV, you read books.Besides, don’t drag the old Berry into this.We’re talking about the new Berry, who only just arrived.” Berry was surprised to hear Rat and Mr.Allen had both agreed to write recommendations.“And what does ‘gender gifted’ mean?” Berry asked.“Search me.” Judy flayed the Internet seeking information for Berry.“Ah,” she said while Berry was on his fifteenth form.“This Lambda Youth organization has a transgender support group.It’s the perfect thing for you, Berry.They’ll be people your own age, who can identify with what you’re going through.” The group planned a meeting that evening at six.Judy drove Berry in circles for fifteen minutes before spotting the Lambda Youth center, which hid under a big awning that said “The Art Sanctuary.” The staircase to the awning’s right, below street level, led to a big metal door with a tiny sign bearing a midget triangle and the letters “LY” in even smaller print.Berry hopped out of the car, waved at his mom, and ran down the staircase.He rang the bell and waited five minutes before a shaved-headed man with a pierced septum and tattoos opened the door and said, “Yeah.”“Name’s Berry.I’m here to be supported as a young gender queer person.”The skinhead shrugged and led Berry to a clammy room with posters of Nelson Mandela and Brandon Teena.Motley people slouched in folding chairs clustered in a circle.Berry grabbed one of the still-folded chairs by the wall while he checked out the roomful of grown-ups.Everybody there looked way older than Berry.And then he saw Maura out of the corner of his eye.Berry sighed and pulled his chair into the circle across from Maura.“Welcome to the Young Gendernauts.I’m Zulu NoGender and I’m the facilitator here.We were just doing personal introductions and affirmations [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]