Green Lake 7

One of my new colleagues, Portia, a Black woman from Jamaica, takes it upon herself to sort out my social life or lack thereof. She sets me up for coffee with 3 different male friends. All 3 times, they just cannot dump me fast enough. After the third, she storms into my office, closes the door, something I never do, "time to talk, my little friend. First guy, give you benefit of the doubt, he might be a bit racial, be down on Afghans. Other 2, not on your life, not a racial bone in their bodies. I asked each how it went. In all 3 cases, they did everything but cross themselves. Problem ain't them, it's you sugar."
I ponder my escape, how much of the truth? I open the desk drawer, take out my Silver Star, lay it on the desk, "this says I spent 7 days and nights inside Chernobyl 2, wondering if the Spetznaz boyos had the jam to show up and blow us away, wondering if we'd get a ride back. Suppose that spooks your friends, just a bit?"
"Could be, you ran into more radiation in one minute than they will in a lifetime. Whoa, don't feed me BS. You've explained life since that raid, care to comment on before?"
I blush.
"You da** well tell me the truth before I freak any more friends, looked like they'd seen ghosts."
"You swear, not a word to another living soul?"
"On my honor."
"Story starts a thousand years ago. I was a little boy, ten years old, backwoods farm in Canada. Riding in my uncle's halfton, lotsa snow and him drunk. Went through the windshield at 140 kph."
"I see, so the NDE was a tad messy? One going out, not wanting to come back. Other coming in, perhaps not too willingly?"
I nod.
"Fair enough, won't set you up again. But who knows - passage of time - maybe you become what your body says you are."
"I wouldn't hold my breath."
"Yeah, I've read of such things. Tricky enough when both are same race, same gender, still personality difference to paper over. Same gender, different race, you've squared the problem. Change of race and gender, right out there in scientific notation, your odds. Chances are you die of old age before you sort it."
I blush hotly.
"I see, so let's throw in one more complication. You were already rather unimpressed with life, completely unwilling to go through with it."
I nod.
"So have a girl-girl fling, lot easier to wrap your head around."
I blush ferociously.
"I see, to all of this, add old-fashioned upbringing."
"Yeah."
"Well kid, world won't change for you; you change for it or it's a long lonely life. Lemme suggest a lesbian friend of mine, not for a fling just advice."
"Ah would you be so kind as to come along?"
She hugs me fiercely, "that's the spirit sugar, I'll be there."

Sylvie lights a Gauloise, puffs expansively, "you're joking? Absolute basics? Come on, every penny ante backwoods school has a sex-ed program."
"I was home-schooled."
"Gonna seem right wierd. Ain't had a conversation like that in 20 years. Still, you're Portia's friend, I'll do it. Start with boys, by age 13, he knows. Unmistakable, doesn't change, hard-wired in him. Only difference is where he happens to be. In a tolerant society, viewed as no different than being left-handed. He simply accepts it as a fact of life. Only problem, say he's Hutterite, Mennonite, Amish or such. Tries to suppress, goes through the whole gay angst thing. With me so far?"
I nod.
"Girls, whole lot more complicated. Not hard-wired, can go either way, or even switch back and forth."
"Why?"
"Researchers discovered, centuries ago, the nerve wiring in the man's brain that controls gaydom. Simply is no such circuit in women, leaves them open to choice, experience, influence. Ok, start with your father, your relationship with him?"
"Never there. Worked off in bush camps. Drank way too much. Number of times in jail for boot-legging."
"And with your mother, I mean except for the home-schooling?"
"Acted like she didn't notice I was alive."
"Be honest Jamila, you walk down the street, notice men? Women? Both?"
"Women."
"Well then, the only problem is your old-fashioned upbringing. I brought a list of a half-dozen books. You see, nothing wrong with it, according to 99% of the population. Just a few holdouts who give their kids all kindsa angst."
As Portia and I leave, I quietly ask, "so that's how it is nowadays?"
"Exactly."
"I don't need to read up. You ah know someone who ah well"
"I know exactly who."