“Mr. Preston,” I say.
He raises his brows. “Why, Ms. Shaw. I would think a person with your sort of lifestyle would be the last one to make the mistake of walking into the facility with the picture of a man on it.”
“You know, I’m an educator. And you, Mr. Preston, are sorely in need of an education.”
“Oh, you think so?”
“I do.” I quickly glance under the stall doors, but, fortunately, we are the only ones in the room. “First, homosexuality? It’s not a lifestyle. It’s who I happen to be. Second, I didn’t choose to be attracted to women. I just am. Didyoumake a choice to be attracted to women? Was it during puberty? When you graduated from high school? Was it a question on the SATs? No. Homosexuality isn’t a choice any more than heterosexuality is. And I know this because why on earth would anyone choose to be gay? Why would I want to put myself through all the bullying and name-calling and physical abuse I’ve faced? Why would I want to constantly be looked down at and stereotyped by people like you? Why would I willingly pick alifestyle,as you call it, that’s such an uphill battle? I honestly cannot believe someone who has traveled the world as much as you have, Mr. Preston, could have his eyes so tightly shut.”
“Ms. Shaw.” He sighs. “I’ll keep you in my prayers.”
“That’s touching. But since I’m an atheist, it’s also irrelevant. In fact, I’d hope that you might consider reading up on homosexuality with a text that’s a little more current than the one you’ve been using—the Bible. There’s been a lot more literature written on the subject since five hundred A.D.”
“Are you finished yet? Because I came in here for a reason . . .”
“Not yet. There are a lot of things I’m not, Mr. Preston. I’m not a pedophile. I’m not a softball coach or a biker chick, any more than gay men are always hairstylists or florists or interior decorators. I’m not immoral. But you know what Iam? Intelligent. Tolerant. Capable of parenting. Different from you, but not lesser,” I say. “People like me, we don’t need to be fixed. We need people likeyouto broaden your horizons.”
When I finish, I am sweating. Wade Preston is blissfullly, utterly silent.
“What’s the matter, Wade?” I ask. “Not used to getting beat up by a girl?”
He shrugs. “Say what you want, Ms. Shaw. You can even pee standing up if you like. But your balls, mark my words, are never gonna be bigger than mine.”
I hear him unzip his fly.
I cross my arms.
A standoff.
“Are you going to leave, Ms. Shaw?”
I shrug. “You won’t be the first dick I’ve run across in my life, Mr. Preston.”
With a quick indrawn breath, Wade Preston zips his pants again and storms out of the bathroom. I smile so wide it hurts, and then I turn on the faucet.
When a bailiff I’ve never seen before comes into the men’s room, he sees a strange, tall woman washing off her makeup in the sink, patting her face dry with cheap paper towels. “What?” I accuse when he stares at me, and I saunter out the door. After all, who’s he to say what’s normal?
Before Zoe’s mom testifies, she wants to talk to her glass of water.
“Ms. Weeks,” the judge says, “this isn’t a performance space. Can we please just get along with the trial?”
Dara faces him, still holding the glass in one hand. The pitcher that sits beside the witness stand is half full. “Don’t you know, Your Honor, that water can feel positive and negative energy?”
“I wasn’t aware that water could feel anything except wet,” he mutters.
“Dr. Masaru Emoto has done scientific experiments,” she says, huffy. “If human thoughts are directed at water before it’s frozen, the crystals will be either beautiful or ugly depending on whether the thoughts were positive or negative. So if you expose water to positive stimuli—like beautiful music, or pictures of people in love, or words of gratitude—and then freeze it and look under a microscope, you get ice crystals that are symmetrical. On the other hand, if you play a Hitler speech to your water or show pictures of murder victims or sayI hate youand then freeze it, the crystals are jagged and distorted.” She looks up at him. “Our bodies are made up of more than sixty percent water. If positive thoughts can impact an eight-ounce glass of water, imagine the effect they might have on all of us.”
The judge rubs his hand down his face. “Ms. Moretti, I assume since this is your witness you don’t mind if she praises her water?”
“No, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Preston?”
He shakes his head, dumbfounded. “Frankly, I don’t evenknowwhat to say.”
Dara sniffs. “All in all, that’s probably a real blessing from the water’s point of view.”
“You may proceed, Ms. Weeks,” the judge says.
