“Lacey’s Real Self” by Lem Billings

Lacey’s different. Or is she?

She walks into the room. And that’s all she accepts about current society. To walk into a room.

So…she walks in. She waits.

“Hi. I’m Jack Kennedy. This is my family.” says Jack to Lacey. In 1947.

Lacey laughs. “Some family!” she says.

His face drops. The whole family looks suddenly rather dour.

“Well…this is my family.” says Joe.

“I’m leaving.” says Lacey, disgusted.

“Why!?” says Jack.

“This is boring.” says Lacey.

Jack’s eyes grow big.

“That’s mean!” says Eunice.

“Oh no! You’re mean.

You’re all meanies.” says Lacey.

*Lacey turns on her heels and walks out. I follow her.*

“Say! What’s this all about? You’re supposed to be happy.” I say.

“I want toast! And TEA!” screams Lacey, repulsed. She waits for it to appear.

I stare at her. In shock.

No toast and tea appearing she gets quiet. She looks around, calmly. Then she studies me.

“You’re amazing. Let’s go.” she says to me.

“Where are we going?” I ask, confused.

She thinks. Blinks. “To get married. Or maybe just cuddle. Or at least go to the beach.” she says.

I laugh. “Alright. Let’s go to my mother’s.”

“Oh I love your mother!” she says, loftily.

I laugh. Smile.

“Let’s go!” she says.

We leave together.

That’s my Lacey. Let’s do another one.

“You’re photos are so beautiful & serene & uplifting.” says Casi in a comment on an Instagram post in 2016.

“You use ampersand too much. It’s obnoxious!” says Lacey.

“& You’re a bitch!” Casi says.

“No. You should say thank you. I just helped you. …You look very stupid and uneducated.” says Lacey.

“That’s mean. You’re just mean.” says Casi.

“Am I? Gosh. …You sound so stupid!!” says Lacey.

“Okay. Have a nice day.” says Casi before unfollowing Lacey. Possibly blocking her.

“What a weird thing to say!” says Lacey.

Then Lacey moves on. Casi did use too many ampersand signs.

“Lacey you’re not royalty.” I say.

“Oh.

Cool.” says Lacey.

“But you sound like you think you are.” I say.

“Do I!?!?” she says, shocked.

“Yes. You do.” I say.

“But how are you supposed to get anything done? People are so slow. Nothing ever happens!!” says Lacey.

“What are you trying to do?” I ask.

“Create beauty!!” says Lacey, wistfully.

“What sort of beauty?” I ask.

“Oh why do you have to ask!? …Don’t you know!??” she says.

“Tell me more!” I say.

She thinks. Feels overwhelmed. “Oh, I’m a failure. It’s hard to start.

*She thinks.*

Everywhere. Literally.” says Lacey.

I nod in understanding. “What about with me?”

“You’re already beautiful.

*She looks off into the distance, clasping her hands.*

I need your help.” she says grimly.

“You can’t do it alone?” I ask.

“No! Of course not.

Why do you have to ask? You hurt me!” she says.

“Oh. I’m sorry. Of course.

Well…what if…we…start with our gardens?” says Lem.

“Where!??” she asks.

“At my house!” I say.

“Oh! What a challenge!!!” she says, hands clasped.

“I’m sure you can do it.” I say.

“Oh my!!!” she says. She throws herself backwards onto a chaise. Looks faint. “Do you like roses?!?”

“Yes.” I say.

“Roses are so fickle. But I LOVE THEM.” she says. She bounds up and sits and looks ebullient. “But I shall bring you ROSES!”

“Good.” I say, smiling.

“I might fail you!! …Be warned.

But…I shall try!” she says, grimly.

This is what she’s hiding. This part of her personality is part of what she hides. Because almost nobody alive understands.m

(Morning – July 6th, 2024)

“No. No he does not look straight.” says Lacey.

“It’s his aesthetic.” says a perfume collector.

“Mmm. Kinda.

…But it’s stuff like this that drives us both up the wall. … Because he really does look gay. Or bisexual. …I did not. …I just didn’t. …And it’s stuff like this that’s totally demoralizing to Lacey. As a human.” says Lem. “Their opinion matters to people. Hers barely does. And yet she’s right. And they’re ignorant and naive.”

“He does look straight.” says a queer man in the perfume community.

“No! He doesn’t!” says Lacey.

“You’d never think he was straight?” asks a lesbian in the perfume community.

“No! Absolutely not!” says Lacey.

“What is it!?” asks another queer man in the perfume community, laughing.

“His face! So many things!” says Lacey.

“Okay. Fine. …I don’t see it.” says the first queer man.

“Yeah right! You’re just ignoring it!” says Lacey.

“No. Where!??” says a psychologist.

“His waist is…smaller in a particular way. …His chest is…lower on his body? And softer? His torso is slimmer than straight men’s? …His arms are more delicate? …And his upper lip is more curved in a particular way.” says Lacey.

“Damn it. …Eugenics?” says a German.

“Mmm. Not necessarily? …But I have noticed certain trends.” says Lacey. “And combined with his overall demeanor and my sense of him…he would never look straight to me. …He has a physical gay look quite similar to Rock Hudson.”

“You mean parts of his body are similar to Rock Hudson’s?” says an Englishman.

“Yes! In a very particular way.” says Lacey.

“That’s not a thing!” says a perfume collector.

“Actually…it could be.” says a scientist reading her blog.

“No! It might be!” says Lacey.

“No! Because I look straight! …I mean I look so fricken straight!” he says.

“No. You probably don’t.” says the CIA.

He laughs. Thinks. “Then why do we lie about it?!” he asks the CIA, angry.

“Because I was gay! And madly in love with Jack Kennedy! …And there’s no nuance or hostility in my most famous words. …And I was madly in love and devastated when Jack died. …My life was ruined…because he was my everything. …And when he got married I was so happy because he was happy. And when he slept with other people…I rejoiced. …And I always forgave him! And I never had any pent-up hostility. …See…I had no feelings of my own. I was a fucking robot.

…And you know what? Christmas trees are Jewish in origin. And Jews are all the same. And British people are all psychopaths. …And…poor people…are all like Jesus. So are Black people.

People can’t handle certain things. They get too freaked-out. …Christmas trees are pagan. …Jews are a complex group of people. The British are just British, not all deranged. …And some poor and Black people are very evil.

See…it’s easier to think gay men don’t look gay. Because of you make it genetic somehow then it’s scary for people who don’t know how to handle it. There are lots of bisexual men who are not okay looking gay. There are many bisexual men who don’t want to look straight. …And it’s scary for backward people, and there are lots of them, to admit their vulnerability. …You’re not necessarily as sophisticated as Lacey or other people might be. And yet it’s nice to imagine you are. Because…you know you could be very hurt by your ignorance and that’s an unpleasant thing.” says Lem. “And lots of gay men feel less…insecure about themselves when they let themselves believe they don’t look homosexual. It’s pride. …They love thinking they’re shocking people by being gay. Like they look so straight…but then secretly…THEY’RE GAY! ….And no I don’t mean men like Jack Kennedy who are in the closet. I mean men who are out and wave gay flags…but still think they can fool people. It gives them an edge or a shock value or something. They feel…powerful.” says Lem. “The CIA also worried and worries they’re going to cause pandemonium and violence if they admit what they know. If gay men and bisexual men can be identified…what does that mean!? You know? Like…what does that do!?

…What if I helped plan the Kennedy assassination? You’d be far more likely to figure that out if I physically looked straight. Because what the Hell was going on!? …No. It’s a scary prospect. Lots of secrets would start coming out that are still real secrets.” says Lem.

“Shit!” says the first queer man in the perfume community. Then he laughs.