Queer as Folk

When they moved into the neighborhood you could see it right away. Even as the moving van was unloading their furniture and boxes from the truck you somehow got a sense that this family was not like the other families on the street. For one thing they were actually using a moving company to do their labour. Most of the others had done the heavy lifting themselves after borrowing some distant cousin or other’s truck for the job and getting a couple of buddies to help out while plying them with liquid refreshments. This move was executed in a professional and efficient manner with boxes carefully labelled according to their contents and which room they were expected to land in. 

The other major difference was, and this was only visible if you looked very carefully at the labels, was that there were boxes and boxes of books, no doubt destined for a library of sorts, the likes of which none of the other families had ever seen. The children in the neighborhood stopped on their bikes to check out the moving van but quickly lost interest when there didn’t seem to be much to see other than the copious boxes coming off the truck. 

The family didn’t make much of an appearance on the street except when they first arrived and now were busy inside directing the flow of traffic as the movers came in and out with their loads. Inside was Jeffrey, the new boy on the street, oblivious to most of the commotion but content to be in his room slowly unpacking box after box as they landed in his domain. Many of the boxes contained books but he didn’t as yet have a place to put them as he was still waiting for his bookshelves to arrive from the truck. 

Jeffrey Parker was a thoughtful boy; he didn’t really relate to sports or activities that many boys his age might be involved in. Instead, he spent a lot of his time reading. He read books about tribes in Africa and learned to identify poisonous snakes. He read about the religions of the world and learned prayers in 10 different languages. He read books about Antarctica and learned how penguins procreate in the coldest place on the planet. He had lots of thoughts and interests but not many friends. 

Mrs. Dales from down the road came over with a casserole to welcome them to the neighborhood and no doubt to do a little snooping and then report back to her little cabal of neighbors. The casserole was accepted with thanks but the Parkers didn’t stop to chat for long. Mercifully the kitchen had not yet been unpacked so there was no need for the offer of tea or other refreshments and that sent Mrs. Dales on her way in short order, a little disappointed that she had come away with nothing more than a friendly introduction and very little to gossip about. 

The Parkers went back to their task of setting up their new home and that kept them occupied for many days. Jeffrey was thrilled to have his bookshelves arrive and spent many hours unpacking his books and skimming through many of his favourites. During all this time he barely went outside and when he did it was probably because he had been assigned some task by one of his parents. He wasn’t too interested in the kids playing basketball across the road or riding their bikes on the street or skateboarding in the park. He didn’t greet the boy next door, who appeared to be close to his age, and just happened to be taking out the garbage cans at the exact same time that he was doing it. He certainly didn’t go over there and introduce himself in spite of several prompts from his mother. School was only a few days away and he would inevitably have to interact with these kids at some point but until then he was very content with his own company and of course the company of his books. 

“Are you looking forward to school Jeffrey dear?” his mother asks. “You’ll be going to a new school so that’s always a fresh start, isn’t it? Perhaps you could join some clubs so that you can meet some of the other kids.” 

Jeffrey doesn’t look up from his task of organizing his National Geographics by date and wonders if he shouldn’t be organizing them by topic, but even to him that seems like a mammoth task. Still, a few more hours of freedom before he has to face the guillotine, or in other words, head off to school. He certainly isn’t looking forward to it.

***

Miss Benny is the most boring teacher in 10th grade. Her teased and heavily varnished hair bobs up and down on her head and feels disconnected from the body below. Her voice is painfully monotonous as she squeezes the chalk tighter until it squeals and sends a current throughout the entire classroom. 

She is wearing a mustard yellow twin set with pearls that circle her long thin neck. She has applied a substantial layer of makeup to her expressionless face and some rouge. Her eyes are adorned with thick black glasses and there is a hint of purple eye shadow peeking through. 

“Now class, today we are going to explore the exciting world of exponential and logarithmic functions,” she drones sounding as exciting as a piece of stale bread.

Kim is turning around to talk to Doug, her heavy breasts squeezed between the back of her chair and the front of his desk. He leans in and whispers something into her ear; her eyelashes, thick with layers of blue mascara, flutter. 

Allen is slumped down in his chair, his legs splayed and his torn and ripped jeans are patched at the knees. His blonde hair falls into his eyes as he looks out the window and Jeffrey sees that he is sketching the horses in the field across the road. Jeffrey watches his confident strokes on the page and thinks he must be doing justice to those thoroughbreds.

“As function of a real variable, exponential functions are uniquely characterized by the fact that the growth rate of such a function is directly proportional to the value of the function.”

Jeffrey is not really big on math but he tries to pay attention in spite of the fact that the teacher’s voice drones on and on in a monotone and he’s really not quite following the whole drift of exponential functions. He looks around the room to see if there might be some kind of kindred spirit amongst this room of aliens. 

Cindy and Joanne are giggling and passing notes back and forth across the aisle. They are wearing identical outfits – brown faux suede mini-skirts that sit high up on their thighs and low-cut pink t-shirts with little purple hearts on them. Cindy has her legs double crossed at the knee and at the ankle and she looks like the rubber woman at Cirque de Soleil. 

Lisa is applying pink gloss onto her puckered lips while she is absorbed in a book on her desk that she is half-heartedly attempting to conceal.  Jeffry tries unsuccessfully to read the cover but he thinks it must be some kind of Harlequin romance based on the picture on the cover. “Well at least she’s a reader, that’s something,” thinks Jeffrey although he knows full well that he would never be able to get up the courage to speak to this lovely young woman who is so completely absorbed in her reading. He admires the fact that she is unperturbed by the 

class even she’s just going to get further and further behind if she’s not paying attention. 

“The argument of the exponential function can be any real or complex number, or even an entirely different kind of mathematical object.”

Jeffrey switches his focus back to the board where Miss Benny is madly scribbling digits and making little jiggling movements with her backside. He can’t help but notice that she has a sticky note on her back and that the kids in the front row are giggling madly. He feels a mixture of emotions then, because he has been the subject of teasing and pranks many times before but he can’t help but find it a little amusing. He hears a little giggle from across the aisle and sees that Lisa has stuck her nose out from her book and is also amused by the sticky note situation. He catches her eye and smiles and to his amazement she smiles back. 

“The derivative of the exponential function is the exponential function itself. The exponential function extends to an entire function on the complex plane.”

Jeffrey closes his eyes for a second and when he opens them, he sees a bright flash of light and what appears to be a blue mist filling the room. When the dust clears he sees Miss Benny standing there. She is naked, her thin arms hanging by her sides, her breasts long and nipples gazing at her toes. She turns towards the desk that has turned into a table where a silver tea service is carefully laid out. She bends in one long slow movement and the tips of her lacquered hair brush her shoulders.  As she bends to pick up the silver teapot her flesh folds like a paper fan, layer upon layer against her belly, as she pours the steaming brown liquid into the china cup.

She is smiling, her face like brittle parchment, the skin pulled tight against her cheeks. Pouring with one hand, the other steadies the lid of the teapot until the cup has been filled and then she replaces the pot on the table, her hand free to puff up her hair as she turns slowly to face the classroom again. 

Jeffrey looks around the classroom and sees that all the seats are empty except for Lisa who is sitting right beside him grinning from ear to ear. 

“I’m not sure if we’re supposed to say something,” Lisa says. “Should we tell her that she has no clothes on? And why did she stop the lesson and start pouring tea I wonder?”

“It looks like she just woke up,” says Jeffrey. “It looks like we have somehow been transported into her kitchen and she’s pouring herself a cup of tea to take back to bed.”

“But why is she naked? Don’t you think she looks like the type to sleep in a crisp white nighty, not naked?”

“You know the old saying, there’s nowt so queer as folk.”

Lisa and Jeffrey look at each other and laugh, but this time it’s more than just a giggle. They laugh heartily and deeply until tears flow down their cheeks and Jeffrey actually falls onto the floor holding his belly. 

Just at that moment the bell rings and 31 books slam shut and feet stampede across the green tiled floor towards the door. Jeffrey scribbles the last few numbers into his book and looks up at Miss Benny as she stands with her back to the room, the sticky note still on the back of her pale mustard sweater. Her arm is making small circles in space as she rubs and rubs, the chalk-brush in her hand, the numbers disappearing into a cloud of dust as if they were never there. 

Jeffrey looks over at the desk beside him as Lisa is gathering up her books. A strange feeling passes over him then, like a feeling of power or confidence the likes of which he has never known before. Suddenly he sees that weirdness or being a little different might possibly not be such a bad thing after all. In fact, it might even be a good thing. He’s not sure what’s going to happen but he knows what he must do. He turns toward Lisa and says:“Hi, my name is Jeffrey. We just moved into the neighborhood. I see that you’re a reader. I am too.”

There is a long silence but then Lisa smiles a big smile, an ear-to-ear burst of sunshine smile and Jeffrey feels his knees begin to buckle. “Hi Jeffrey, my name is Lisa. Want to have lunch together?”