This is Your Strife
Chapter One
"Welcome back, Waylon," said Grady, setting some wine coolers on Smithers' kitchen countertop. "So, how was Capital City?"
Stuart said, "Did you see the new aquarium?"
"No, I was too engrossed in the convention events. This year, they're coming out with a Safari Stacy. Oh! And you should've seen the new Malibu Stacy Dream Houses! They're fully customizable, and you can move the rooms around and the furniture, too."
"I'll never understand your fixation on that doll," Stuart said.
"Well, it started a long time ago..."
"It's time for recess, children. Put your supplies back into the craft bins and you can go," said Miss Mulligan, brushing her shoulder-length black hair behind her ear. The children began putting things away, glitter and buttons strewn across the tables. Little Waylon Smithers, all of seven years old, found himself drawn to a shiny, smooth red ribbon. He cut a length of ribbon off the roll and stuffed it into one of his shorts pockets.
As he headed out to the playground, he beamed, clear in his mind what he was going to do. He understood his parents wouldn't approve, having repeatedly denied his requests for pretty, frilly clothes and hair accessories and made obvious their disapproval of his clothing preferences. This is my chance, he thought, taking the ribbon from his pocket and heading to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror for guidance, he folded the ribbon over a lock of his hair and proceeded to tie it into a bow. He stood there for a minute, admiring himself from a couple of different angles. It looked so pretty! Why would this make his parents so upset?
He left the bathroom grinning. When he spotted a little blond-haired girl on the playground, he ran up to her, saying, "Mary! Mary! Look!"
She giggled. "You have a ribbon in your hair!"
"I know, isn't it pretty?"
"Yeah, you look pretty."
"Thanks! You're pretty, too."
The girl beside her, Linda, said, "Only girls wear bows!"
"No... I'm wearing one and I'm a boy."
"Well, if you're gonna be a girl, do you wanna play house with us?"
"Sure!" he said. When the bell rang, they adjourned the game and went to line up. They filed into two different lines, one for girls and one for boys. Waylon stood in line with the other boys as always. The boys around him voiced discontent and lightly pushed him out of line and did so again when he pushed his way back into line. "Hey, what gives?"
"Go to the girls' line, girl!" said Tom.
Waylon protested, "But I'm a boy."
Gary said, "Boys don't wear ribbons in their hair. That's a girl thing."
They pushed him out of line again and he gave up on trying to muscle his way back in and just stood between the two lines. When Miss Mulligan arrived to count them and let them into the classroom, she said, "Waylon, why aren't you in line?"
He said, "They wouldn't let me be in the boys' line."
"Why is that?" she asked the boys.
"Because he's a girl!" they said with a sneer of disgust.
"That's not very nice," she said. "Apologize to him and let him back in line."
They did so reluctantly. "Thanks, Miss Mulligan," said Waylon as he walked back into line and she caught a glimpse of his hair ribbon.
"Although you are asking for it," she mumbled under her breath.
Each day at the closing bell, he would unravel his ribbon and put it in his pocket. As his mother walked him home from school one November afternoon, he said, "Mommy, I decided what I want for Christmas this year."
"You've been a very good boy this year, so I'm sure Santa will bring you whatever you want."
"I want a Malibu Stacy doll!" he said excitedly. Seeing the smile fade from his mother's face, he quickly added, "All the other girls have one!"
It was not the persuasive line he'd hoped it would be. "You are not a girl," she said, stern. They walked in uncomfortable silence for a few more seconds. "What would you want with a doll, anyway?"
"I could mix the clothes up to make pretty new outfits, and she could star in musicals to pay for her beach home. I would have so much fun pretending with her!"
"The answer is no. And don't you dare mention it to Winton."
I bet he would let me have one. That's why Mommy doesn't want me asking him, because she knows he'll say yes. When his stepfather arrived home, Waylon promptly ran up to him, saying, "I'm so glad you're home! Can I have a Malibu Stacy doll for Christmas? I've been really good this year and I'll be even more good next year, promise!" His mother's face fell.
"Waylon, do you want to be a sissy?"
This confused him. He knew a sissy was a bad thing to be, but he thought it meant you were weak and cowardly. He didn't see what it had to do with dolls. "No, but –"
"Well, you sure as hell act like you want to be one. I swear, if you keep acting this way, we'll have to take you to a psychiatrist."
He quaked, thinking it was just a short step from seeing a psychiatrist to being locked for life in a mental hospital. "What way? What am I doing wrong?" Tears welled in his eyes. He was always failing his parents in one way or another despite being an extremely well-behaved kid. But no matter how hard he tried to please them, he always came up short. The worst punishment to him, far worse than getting spanked with a belt, was to see his parents disappointed in him. "Tell me what I'm doing wrong, and I'll fix it."
"You've got to stop liking this girl stuff, Waylon. I'm getting increasingly worried you'll end up queer."
He didn't know what he meant by "queer," but he knew that whatever it was, he was it.