Chapter 3

Jordan was the next to catch Joseph after class. "I put together a little performance with some drama students, some music students and members of Ms. Chan's poetry class," he told Joseph with adrenaline invigorated energy. "It's happening in about an hour in the music room."

"How come I never heard?" asked Joseph.

"It was kind of word of mouth. I didn't want it to be anything official. I talked to the English teachers and most of them, in fact all of them except Mr. Rasmussen invited their students to attend."

Joseph nodded, then shook his head. Mr. Rasmussen was a devout member of the Great Books philosophy of education and had no interest or regard for anything written pre-twentieth century. When Joseph tried to be arty with an essay on Dante's Inferno, he was rewarded with an F and an after-class lecture about the proper conventions of essay writing and their usefulness in advancing successfully through college.

"I'll be there," said Joseph.

It was a rocky show, with nerves getting the best of a couple performers. Jordan was the star. His soft shoe duet with another talented and, as far as Joseph could tell, straight young man opening the show was lively and perfectly executed. Even the four piece jazz ensemble of bass, drums, piano and alto sax accompanying them was pretty good.

The show ended with a song in which Jordan had written the lyrics and another young man, accompanying Jordan on the piano, had written the music. Further accompaniment was by a pretty, petite and precocious brunette 9th grade girl named Nina playing viola soulfully. The song was performed at the beginning like Rex Harrison performing a song, with a sort of talk singing, and the lyrics resembled Harrison's tour de force song from "My Fair Lady: "I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face." Dressed in a kind of casual attire of the forties, slacks, brown suit jacket, a tie and a short brimmed fedora cocked on his head, Jordan was like Fred Astaire closing Joe's Bar. It began quietly, Jordan sitting on a chair. He was reminiscing about a love affair, no gender specified. At first nostalgic, with Jordan rising from the chair and dancing with an invisible partner, it swiftly became bitter, his movement changing from smooth and flowing to abrupt and violent, and his singing was almost operatic in its emotionality. The relationship had ended badly, and Jordan's character had more than a broken heart; it had been torn out and trampled on. Then the song changed, softly sliding into hope as Jordan returned to his chair and looked directly at Joseph. He returned to the lyrics at the beginning of the song, except the tense wasn't past, but future, and he was singing instead of talking with a rough French chanteuse style reminiscent of Piaf or Marlene Dietrich. Jordan would move his gaze away from Joseph, including the rest of the audience, but like a magnetic force, it would inevitably return. The smile he sent Joseph was loving.

Once Jordan had changed back into his normal clothes, he returned to the performance space thrilled to see Joseph was still there.

"Amazing," said Joseph.

"Thanks," Jordan said shyly, and then matter-of-factly, forcing the words through a fear of rejection, he asked if Joseph wanted to walk with him. Joseph nodded.

As they walked, heading for Joseph in an unfamiliar direction away from school, but in the general direction of Joseph's home, they talked.

"I'll probably keep working at the Children's Theater and go to the U to study drama and hone my craft," Jordan told Joseph when asked about his plans. "They have apprenticeships at the Guthrie, so I hope to get a foothold there."

"What about your writing? In less than five minutes you told a story with a beginning middle and end as compelling as an hour of plot."

"I write songs. Someday I'll write plays, maybe musicals."

"You have a cinematic quality."

"I love old movies."

"Me too," said Joseph. "Have you heard of Film in the Cities?"

When Jordan admitted he hadn't, Joseph told him they have screenwriting classes and a pool of talent. "Maybe you could make a movie, a musical, and star in it. You have the features and the talent. The camera would love you."

"I'm too gay," said Jordan.

"Nonsense," said Joseph. "Don't be putting up any barriers, there are enough of them already. Besides, how many gay movie stars have there been?"

"Rock Hudson."

"Montgomery Clift. Many more one would think remaining in their closets. You're an actor, act straight if you have to."

They talked movies, mostly Hollywood, particularly Douglas Sirk and "Written on the Wind," which had been the starting point being such a campy movie and starring Rock Hudson. Joseph was surprised when Jordan told him about his love of Godard and Truffaut and the French New Wave, which led the conversation to the American film noir of the forties and fifties, a topic Jordan was unfamiliar with.

After the long slow walk, they arrived at Jordan's house, an older, rundown one story home. Jordan invited Joseph in. He was introduced to a woman in her forties whose once beautiful face had gone pasty and bloated and her once lively eyes had darkened and saddened. She was in a house coat and her bleached blonde hair with dark roots was untouched and chaotic like Medusa. There was a bottle of scotch on the kitchen table; some of its contents had been poured into a glass sitting in the mother's hand. "I hope you haven't invited your friend to dinner. I only made enough for you and your father."

"Don't worry, Mom," Jordan replied giving her a kiss on her forehead. He led Joseph to his small room. Unlike the rest of the house, Jordan's bedroom was neat and clean. Like Sarah's the room was lined with books. Glancing at them, Joseph realized that along with the expected plays and theater books, there were books on film and philosophy that Joseph hadn't read, many he hadn't even heard of.

"We should trade books," said Joseph. "I'll invite you over to show you what I got."

"I'd like that," said Jordan. Completely changing the subject, he said, "Never in my life would I have thought I would say this, but I've really enjoyed our study group. I've always thought you would be an interesting person to get to know, and when you signed up first for the group, I jumped at the chance to be in it with you. Getting to know you, if just in the context of the group has been beyond my expectations."