“A Quick Rundown” by Lem Billings

“So you had no real reason to think you were gay? You were just ignorant and after being molested you mistakenly thought you were gay? How did you not realize you weren’t attracted to men?” asks a reader.

“I didn’t understand at 13 what attraction was. And I met Jack when I was young. He started controlling my life right away.

I made comments I regret. Because no, I didn’t love him beyond my attempt to love him as a friend. And I was never left alone instead of never being lonely as I said. I meant I was never left alone but I said I was never lonely.” says Lem.

“So you missed a chance to explain yourself?” says a reader.

“I missed every opportunity I was ever given.” says Lem. “I should have taken myself far more seriously.”

“So you were threatened by Jack to start with?” says a reader.

“He came on to me. Sexually. In private. Because he’s heard about my proclivities towards homosexuality. It was gossip at Choate. And I initially was agreeable about it…but the more he wanted sexually the more I realized what was happening and that I didn’t want it. At first it was just…something I could disassociate from. But then he wanted to do things that scared me to do, so I declined. And that made him extremely angry.

Within a month he escalated things to the point where he was threatening my life and my family’s life if I didn’t go along with his sexual requests. And I could tell he was serious. He hit me very violently. His family was very wealthy and his father was a criminal of sorts. I knew he was serious. And he was.

So at knifepoint I agreed to go along with his requests.

That’s when I took those photos in the snow. He enlisted the help of another boy to bully me to take those pictures.

The thing is…I kept thinking it would all work itself out. So I decided to just go with it and try to have fun anyway. And once he got his way he was capable of suddenly being very cheerful and amiable. So…in those photos I’m both happy and relieved and terrified and repulsed. I’m scared but I was also enjoying his sudden good mood and he was trying to make me laugh.

So…he’d make me laugh but then he’d shove my head in his crotch after telling me to bend over. And he posed photos of us often. In all the years I knew him. That was one of his demands. And for years I couldn’t imagine why. But eventually I realized how much he wanted to control my life and how people saw me in relation to him forever. He was Satanically obsessed with me. He was literally demonically possessed at times.

And…if I did write the note on toilet paper…it was…to try to sort of gain control. I believed I was gay. Even though I wasn’t. So I felt that…we should have an official sort of relationship. If he was going to keep pestering me. But he hated that idea because he didn’t want to ever admit he was homosexual at all. And yet I had no choice I felt but to go along with him because he was violent. So…after I asked for a relationship…he didn’t talk to me for a while and I was actually a little hurt because he really made you feel like you were the one who was weird and crazy. But then…because it was always just a bluff on his part and he was the instigator to begin with…he suddenly became my friend again out of the blue. I was fine with losing his friendship and I was relieved and then he suddenly came back and apologized.

We had a talk about how he wasn’t a homosexual he was just tense. And I didn’t believe him. And yet he insisted it wasn’t about me or men in general but instead that he was just tense. And I was able to use that to control him afterwards. If I didn’t want his attention and I never did, but if I just couldn’t stomach it at all…I just found women for him who were available. …I felt I was a homosexual and he made a gross pretense towards caring about me and supporting my homosexuality.” says Lem.

“But then no.

No.

He told you, ‘I support you always.’” says a gay man. “And that’s why you don’t look sad at his wedding.”

“That’s a very romantic idea to you. But…it’s not real.

Could someone be that in love with another person that they agree to this sort of secret relationship? Yes. …But…that’s always going to be a very unsatisfying experience. There’s no way to make up for that.

Why? Because my feelings were real too.

Yes. I could theoretically have cared more about him than me, but…I existed. So at some point I had needs too. And he didn’t meet my sexual or romantic needs. He couldn’t. He was adamantly closeted and not at all a particularly naturally caring nor sacrificial person interpersonally.

Regardless, there’s no way…at his wedding to Jackie…that I could have been that continually relaxed and happy and joyful with any sort of real intimacy with Jack occurring. No. I had to be straight. No one at all in love with Jack could have done that. Or even attracted to him. You can’t repress your feelings that much to that degree. That’s not humanly possible.” says Lem.

“But I’ve seen stories about people who do!” says a gay man.

“No. Then it’s not the same situation.

Look…that was an hours long event. A long, huge event. And the entire focus was on Jackie. Jackie and Jack. People were giving them all the attention and were believing in their love. And they were kissing and holding each other and they seemed happy with each other. And everything pointed adamantly toward that being true.

We did not have gay sex. If I did anything it was begrudgingly and actually quite sickened by it. And I was happy

There is no single profound private conversation or set of profound private conversations that can make up for a big, high society, sincere 1950’s wedding. Not to that degree. I had to watch them and their love be brilliantly and beautifully celebrated with the utmost of sincerity for hours. Even just a few people taking it seriously was all one would need to feel gloomy if I wasn’t straight. But there were hundreds of people who took it seriously, including Jackie and Jack. Jack was a narcissistic buffoon. He’s of had no qualms about having so-called great gay sex the night before, not that we did, and then the next day being as totally sincere as he could ever be in marrying Jackie. And there’s no way that wouldn’t hurt me. And I was happy for them for real…because I truly didn’t care. I was straight.” says Lem. “But to reiterate again, there’s no way to hide your emotions that much. One of those photos of me at the wedding should be of me quietly falling apart. Hiding it, but it being obvious if you really study me. Actually most if not all of them should be. And none of them are. They’re the opposite. That’s impossible unless I was straight.”

“What the fuck was that like?” asks a gay man.

“What!?” asks Lem.

“Believing you were gay. And not being gay.” he says.

“Be more specific.” says Lem.

“Umm…so…at Jack’s wedding. Did you ever even think about your sexual interactions with him?” asks a gay man. “How did you feel about that?”

“I was thinking he’d be happy. I thought he’d have less requests for me.” says Lem. “And I was exceedingly relieved.”

“Okay. You’ve said that before. But…like…it didn’t bother you at all?” asks a gay man.

“Hmm. Like I was being rejected, regardless?” asks Lem.

“Yeah!” says a gay man.

“No! He actually might have tried to smooth things over with me. Prior to the wedding.

*Lem laughs*

So…he didn’t need to necessarily. Because I didn’t care the way an actual homosexual would have. And actually no amount of smoothing things over would have sufficed anyway, but with me him talking with me was all I needed to feel totally happy.” says Lem.

“Were you secretly excited for him to be off your hands?” asks a bisexual man.

“YES! I was looking forward to Jackie being his go-to sexual partner. But…he still demanded I service him anyway. And that was disappointing and extremely depressing. But…I was resigned to a shitty life already at that point.” says Lem.

“Did your family know?” asks a gay man.

“Yes and not entirely.” says Lem.

“Lem you sound like a victim of Jeffrey Epstein.” says a gay man.

“It’s not a terrible comparison in some ways. I think my story is far more gruesome and yet also less so because I wasn’t a child being held hostage by an adult.” says Lem.

“Lem…you tried to be gay.” says a gay man. “Why was that like? As a straight man?”

“Weird. …VERY weird.” says Lem. “I think…it’s maybe hard to believe what you’re reading on here. But you should consider that Jack was possibly more physically violent than you know about. And…also…that he tended to be a rapist. Of women.

He actually did instigate things with me. But on many occasions he’d just take advantage of people who were initially interested in him. I could easily have initiated things with him and been confused and straight and had him take advantage of me. But no. He was the instigator, despite what you’ve heard otherwise. And that’s important for me to point out because it’s so contrary to the narrative in media about me. I sound profoundly sexually attracted to Jack in almost every story…and…also totally hung up on him in some awe-inspiring way. Neither of those are true. They’re both evil fabrications. So I choose to point out that he was the instigator…because it’s what really happened and it calls the whole popular narrative into question.

I…hated gay sex. *Lem laughs* It’s…not enjoyable to a straight man. Not really. It’s actually very gross. And I…was so confused by the molestation experience that I chose to ignore that at the time. See…as ludicrous as it sounds to say…I could have easily made the mistake and thought that beds were an orientation if it was a medical opinion at the time, so to speak. I truly didn’t understand the difference between a simple physiological reaction and actual attraction in the sense that I grouped them into the same category of sexual behavior. And that sounds so idiotic. But I was thirteen year old who was very traumatized at the time when I made these judgments about reality.

I was…extraordinarily angry at the priest who had molested me. But I didn’t want to assume it was entirely his fault because I wanted to be responsible and moral and hold myself to account. I had a strong sense of right and wrong. I wasn’t as raffish as they say I was. That’s a confusion and evil on their parts. I was actually very determinedly moral at my core. My whole life.

So…I made the decision to…delve into my every reaction in my analysis of the event. In an attempt to find my own responsibility. And I couldn’t get over the fact that when the priest touched me I had a physical reaction to it. Of course…what I didn’t know was that…he knew what he was doing and…that if my body had experienced it again I would have had almost no reaction at all, because I would have been prepared. But he tripped my brain up. He confused my body. That’s rape. That’s molestation. It’s sometimes very confusing to your brain. And so…I struggled to understand it and I assumed my body’s reaction to him was a sign of some…secret desire on my part that I had previously not noticed.

I never thought through the idea that inanimate objects could produce similar results. You’d think I’d notice that. But I assumed that that was a spurious comparison if the observation ever occurred to me at all as something to consider. And I was not sexually experienced with women yet. I was too young. Those actually were different times. I hadn’t had almost any sexual contact with girls. Maybe some flirting. But no kissing. No…hand holding even.” says Lem.

“Did Jack use reverse psychology to keep you from experimenting with women?” asks Lacey.

“YES! Often.” says Lem.

“How?” asks a gay man.

“Oh he’d suggest we have sex with a female prostitute. That’s a famous story actually. And I didn’t really want sex with a prostitute anyway. But…it was a woman. And…he’d hype it and hype me up to have sex with her…but then I’d have to have sex with her…and I’d feel disgusted. I didn’t chicken out. I just couldn’t. And I said that. But it was misinterpreted as me being gay or chickening out. No. I just didn’t want to sleep with a prostitute.

She…was a shared…vessel. And that’s actually quite gross. …So it wasn’t just Jack but countless men. And…I didn’t really want to share a woman with Jack anyway. I didn’t want him to conquer me in that way. I felt comfortable declining sexual activity with men, even though I believed I was gay. I think…I thought…it was fine to abstain. There was no reason to force myself. But rather to just be aware that I was gay.

No. I just didn’t find loose women attractive.” says Lem. “And…the idea Jack used was that if I couldn’t find them attractive I was gay.”

“Did you find Jackie attractive?” asks Louis Bayard now or in the afterlife.

“Yes! Somewhat. But not that much.” says Lem. “But she was one of the few women I was able to interact with to any great degree…who was that…well bred…and stylish. I avoided women in general and she was forced into my company. So yes…I had a tiny crush on her.” says Lem.

“Did you ever write anything suggesting actual deep love for Jack?” asks a reader.

“No. Never.

And if I did treat it as suspicious. I’m not able to explain everything clearly from the grave. But I’ll say no. Never. For now. And maybe that’s actually true.” says Lem.

“Yes. My book is a fictional story.” says Louis Bayard.

“They might not know that.” says Lem. “Not anymore. Unfortunately.”

“No we still know that!” says a reader.

“I hope so!!” says Lem. “But sometimes I wonder.”

“Did you have a crush on anyone else?” asks a reader.

“Not often.

Umm…I found one or two of Jack’s girlfriends attractive. But not that attractive.

Marilyn Monroe was an exception. I found her quite attractive. But she was…not my thing, so to speak. So I admired her from a distance. Jack noticed. Of course.

Who else? A few random women. And I imagined Lacey. I did. I imagined her.” says Lem.

“Lem that’s a weird life.

So you didn’t kill yourself over Jack or you did?” asks a reader.

“I killed myself? Yes. I did.

I planned my so-called random heart attack.

Why? Because I felt I had nothing left to live for. I was a drug addicted, old curmudgeon. Living alone. And…I knew I was straight. In my last couple of years or so I knew I was straight. So…I killed myself on his birthday because I couldn’t stand him. And I didn’t want to be alive anymore.” says Lem. “I actually killed myself because I was straight. My life’s trajectory seemed doomed.”

“What made you think that?” asks a gay man.

“I was frail. From drugs. And aging. And…I didn’t see much chance for any woman to ever emerge. I was 65! So…she was going to pop out of nowhere in my 80’s? Yeah right. Lacey might have. But…I might have died anyway. Or that’s what I figured. And…I was so miserable by that point. My life was totally ruined. And I knew it. …So…I had a strong sense that there was an afterlife. And I decided it was worth the risk.” says Lem.

“So you…are where?” asks a gay man.

“Ask God.

I’m not in Hell. And…it’s possible it’s Purgatory. Right? Or no? There’s no Purgatory? Well…if there is, that’s where I am.” says Lem.

“Wow. So you just thought about chicks. And had creepy, weird sexual interactions with men?” asks a gay man.

“That’s not too far removed from the exact situation.” says Lem. “I’m sorry you have to think about it.”

He laughs. “How the fuck did you get so confused!?”

“I just did. It’s a generational thing. We really knew a lot less.” says Lem. “We knew more and yet we also knew a lot less.”

“So how close are you to Skippy Handelman?” asks the gay man.

“Very close.” says Lem.

“Okay. Some people would disagree maybe. But…if you watch Family Ties they actually do seem less sexually aware. And Skippy could get that confused.

How did you never piece it all together?” he asks.

“Because I had no evidence to support anything else. I tried to be gay. I pursued erotic relationships with men, as has been written online. So all I experienced were crappy psychological responses that were wholly unsatisfying and…actually icky. But I didn’t know any better. So I kept thinking that if I found the right man I might have a different experience. Or…something. And of course…it never worked out.” says Lem.

“How the Hell did no one stop you!?” asks the gay man.

“No one did. I don’t know.

My family tried to to some extent. But…I was trying to protect them at the same time. And they might have felt I was far more in love with JFK because of that than I was.

No. They were worried. But…they also misunderstood me at times. I didn’t mean to cut off their ability to communicate disapproval of the Kennedys. Not really. I just was possibly paranoid for their safety. Or…I had other reasons for not being able to tolerate an honest conversation. Like morbid denial that I’d totally obliterated my life. Or something else. …I don’t think controlling conversations to that degree is normal. For an adult. And it’s not something one does…in mourning really.

If your husband or wife is dead and you’re on good terms with them you…might honestly defend them but you don’t…control the conversation that much, I don’t think. That obsessive need to control the conversation is more something own does out of fear. Fear of something being painful, possibly.

Look…I was straight. And there are actually many psychological explanations for my actions in many cases. But in this case…it really was that I was scared. Not in love.” says Lem. “Not wanting talk about a dead person at all who you loved is far more likely. Because bringing up their memory is too painful. But…no. I might have even done that to avoid thinking about my miserable life. I was straight.”

“Does your family know that?” asks a gay man.

“No. Seemingly not really. Not entirely, anyway.” says Lem.

“Wow. So nobody saw through your attempts to be brave and saved you?” says a dead Jewish woman.

Lem looks sad. “Maybe someone somewhere knew. Skippy is a lot like me.”

“Dude. If this is true. I’m sorry.

Not all gay men are violent. Or…selfish.” says a living gay man.

“Lem…your boyfriends never thought you were weird?” says another living gay man.

“No! They did.

They made excuses for me. And I…didn’t know how to discuss it all openly. And I hated talking about it. So…they all just lost interest.

No. None of my boyfriends were the love of my life. I read a commenter on some website suggesting that once with great authority. And it wasn’t a stupid hypothesis…but…she said it with enormous confidence and certainty. And that’s rather vile. No. I was never in love with any man. I had a genuinely lonely, miserable, horrific life after childhood.

My great love was a woman I imagined. Actually…you could and should wonder why and how I never realized what love is. Here’s your answer: Because I felt guilty being that happy. I was a very sacrificial person. And I felt guilty…being that happy.

If Lacey was there we’d have been flummoxed. By what to make of our happiness. She’s the same way as me. Can one really be that…self-indulgent and be so happy? Find someone who wants to be with you as much as you want to be with them? Who you like that much? Or is that forbidden?

We were both raised to have great discipline. Restraint. Reticence. Guilt. Control. And…it would have shocked me to discover that my passions for her were Godly. I was very sexually pure. Lots of us were. Really. We…became far less so…in our late teens…but we were still more genuinely innocent than men today. And yet also more mature. I’m sorry.

Actually…even Skippy is. In the 1980’s. So is Alex, really. Compared to recent years.

So…I was kept ignorant, so to speak. And I would have felt very guilty meeting and falling in love with Lacey. She would have felt guilty too. But we would have reasoned that it all was okay, at least somewhat. So long as we got married. And we would have. And been very happy.

I would have killed Jack over Lacey in a heartbeat, if I had to. I would have killed several people in his family to keep them from violently attacking me and my family. But she wasn’t there.

If you have to think of me…don’t use some bisexual or gay actor in your head. I was straight. Imagine Sydney Pollack with a hyper gay accent and mannerisms. And then imagine them fading away entirely around Lacey and her character played by…Audrey Tatou we’ll say for now…silently and sweetly analyzing everything with loving, objective but also shrewd silence. Maybe those two actors wouldn’t have had enough chemistry. But that’s the best I can do on short notice.

She isn’t Courtney Cox. She’s a lot closer to an Audrey Tatou character. Betty Draper but not perverse or cold and tough as nails, extremely intelligent and fierce as portrayed by Audrey Tatou.

I can’t think of a good British actress. And Audrey Tatou is not a terrible choice.” says Lem.

Later.

“I’d just back off if Lem is like Sydney Pollack.” says a reader. “If he’s straight I totally see him being portrayed by him. And actually Sydney Pollack would seem like Lem if he was acting gay.”

“Yeah. To be honest…I see it too.

Lacey you really find Sydney Pollack that attractive?” says a famous Jewish man.

“Well…his type, maybe.” says Lacey

“She means me.” says Lem.

They think.

“He had a higher voice.” says a reader.

“Not as high as you think. And actually…it sounded straight. Before I altered it.” says Lem. “It was like Dick Van Dyke’s brother a bit.”

“And I liked women.” says Dick Van Dyke’s brother.

“I could have easily portrayed him.” says Sydney Pollack.

“That’s creepy and cool both.

I love the idea of Audrey Tatou and Sydney Pollack falling in love. Why has no one thought of that before? That’s a delightful combination. …Too bad it’s too late.

They’re both so smart. And he bring out her edginess. And she makes him seem more elegant and they both make each other seem more attractive.

They’re not Lacey and Lem. But I wonder if that’s closer to reality than a more perfect attempt to totally copy them.

No. Lem was very possibly straight.” says a reader.

“So Audrey Tatou throws herself at Sydney Pollack though? At night?

Wow! Audrey Tatou circa 2004 and Sydney Pollack circa 1999. And she throws herself at him. …That would shock audiences.” says a reader.

“I could have done a great Minnesota accent. But not Fargo. The one you have.” says Audrey Tatou to Lacey.

“Yes!” says Lacey.

“Why is it so shocking?!?” asks Bill Gates.

“Wow Eyes Wide Shut is CREEPY.” says a reader.

“Because we don’t know that that’s even possible anymore.” says a reader. “We don’t think that freely.”

“Yeah.

That’s…sexy and fascinating. But for real.” says another reader. “But that’s not a combination of people we are allowed to see together almost ever.”

“Ever.” says another reader.

“That’s weird that that’s never done.” says a reader. “Why!?”

“It could be literal mind control. For real.” says the CIA.

“Yeah.

Honestly…I think I’ve seen couples like that in Europe. But not in America.” says a European.

“In America film Audrey is hard to cast a man with. She’s not allowed almost. In and of herself.

We can stomach Mandy Moore, Katherine Heigl and that’s it. Anything closer to the truth is too upsetting to the wrong people. Or was.” says a conservative.

“Was I too close to the truth?” asks Natalie Portman.

“Yes. So you had to be scrambled. In a sense. And you were. By Black Swan and your portrayal of Jackie Kennedy.” says George Cuckor. “And…as a cute pathological liar.”

“Lacey has never been a cool as Natalie Portman.” says a dead Scotsman.

“No. But…that’s where Helena Bonham Carter is closer to the truth. Helena is uncool in the same way Lacey is. And is that really even uncool? It might just be melancholic and British.” says another dead Scotsman.

Sentimental by SYML plays.

“We don’t want to suggest Helena is a saint. But we do like her.” says a man.

“Is Lacey like Kate Winslet?” asks a reader.

“Slightly. She’s more like Audrey Tatou.” says an actor. “Her mannerisms are more like Audrey Tatou even if her coloring is more like Kate Winslet.”