The Front Runner

father when I found out what. .. what he was like. So when I divorced him, I gave him custody of you, because I wasn't ready ..."
    Billy was sitting cross-legged on the Afghan rug, shaggy head a little bent, not looking at her. "You don't have to apologize," he said. "Everything worked out fine."
    "But it was monstrous of me to abandon you," she said.
    Billy raised his. clear terrible eyes to hers. "Why?"
    "Well . . . well, because . . ." The words hung unspoken. She was sure that, if she'd taken Billy with her, he would have grown up straight.
    "How did your father . . . manage?" Leida asked.
    "Oh, he and Frances managed fine," said Billy.
    "Frances? Did he marry again?"
    Billy's eyes were expressionless, implacable. "He married a transvestite." Thus, brutally, did he give Leida her first lesson in gay sociology. "They raised me."
    Leida sucked in her breath.
    "You don't know how much I regret it," she said to Billy. "If I could do things over again ..."
    "Look," said Billy, getting a little irritated, "I'm happy, so, like . . . there's nothing to regret. Don't make yourself unhappy over nothing."
    There was a silence.
    "I thought of you many times," said Leida. "I thought . . . 'oh, he's grown up by now, maybe he's married to some lovely girl already.' Finally I tried to get in touch with you, but John had moved. I didn't know your whereabouts until I saw the newspapers—"
    She paused. Suddenly she burst out, "But Billy, it's so absurd! You'll never have any children of your own this way. Don't you want a family, children? Every man wants to see his family line go on."
    I was sitting on the edge of one of the wing chairs, looking down at my rubber sandals, my fists clenched.
    I was vowing that I would not get involved in this discussion, that Billy was perfectly capable of handling it.
    Billy smiled a little. "There are too many children anyway," he said. "We're helping the world toward zero population growth."
    His joke simply offended her. She said, "Billy, I'm your mother, I only want what's best for you."
    Suddenly Billy was on his feet, shaking. He was so white that he looked bled. "You're not my mother. Do you understand that?"
    Leida's hands flew to her mouth. They were pale nerveless hands, fine-boned like Billy's but without his strength.
    Billy went on. "Maybe you thought of yourself as my mother. But I was nine months old when you left. As far as I'm concerned, you're a name on my birth certificate and that's all. I'm not sure I have a mother. Maybe I grew in the cabbage patch. If I ever had a mother, it was Frances."
    I knew Billy was not being deliberately cruel, but his truth was as cruel as intention.
    "Frances changed my diapers," said Billy. "He taught me to walk. He picked me up after school. When I skinned my knee, he put a bandaid on it."
    Leida put her shaking hands over her eyes and started to sob.
    "Billy, isn't that enough?" I said in a low voice. I felt a little sorry for Leida.
    "It isn't enough," he said. His eyes never left her. "The whole world is trying to break up Harlan and me. And you come out of the woodwork and help them. You may be a very nice lady, and I don't want to hurt you. But you stay away from me with your big guilt. Don't lay your straight imperialism on me."
    "Billy," I said. I got up and went to him, and put my hand on his shoulder. I had never seen him so agitated.
    My touching his shoulder kindled Leida. She stood up. "I've tried to reason with you," she said to Billy. "Obviously you're brainwashed. You're just a child."
    "He was twenty-two when we met," I said. "He was a man, and no virgin, and capable of deciding how he wants to live."
    "Billy," said Leida, "I'm going to take you home. I think it would be best for you."
    Billy started to laugh hysterically. "Home? This is my home."
    "Billy," said Leida firmly, "there are laws—"
    "Listen," said Billy, furious now, his voice breaking strangely, the way he had been when I slapped him that time, "don't give me any crap about the law. My father is a lawyer. I know what the law is. Don't you read the papers? The Supreme Court did away with all those laws."
    "The police—" said Leida.
    "You try it." Billy was the animal now, trying to stay in front. "You don't have a leg to stand on. I'm not a minor, and I wasn't a minor when I met Harlan. You officially gave custody of me to my father. All those years you didn't use your visiting privileges. You showed no interest in my morals. So don't come crying around now. The