Jake finally answered, “Joan, I don’t think it’s fair to Eunice’s memory for me to tell tales about her—but I’ll concede your point, assuming that you want to learn, for your own guidance, as much as possible about how she behaved. Eunice was honest and straightforward”—(I’m devious as a snake-but that’s what 1 wanted Jake to believe.)—”and she apparently decided that she liked me that much. . . and made it easy for me. It was neither rape nor seduction.” (It was both, but I did not want him to think so. He’s a darling Joan. When he’s gentled enough—slip the bit into his mouth. But let him think he asked for it.) (I’ll try. Meantime I’m still doing this emotional strip-down—and you listen instead of interrupting; you might learn something about me.) (I’ll be good, Boss. Mostly.)
“I felt certain that it must have been that way, Jake—knowing you, knowing her. But that’s only one side of me as I am now—the ‘Eunice’ side. The other side is Johann, with almost a century of male orientation I told you I now understand Winnie, as a girl—because now I am a girl. But there Is still Johann, alone with Winnie every day—and it’s all I can manage to keep my hands off her.” (Hmmph! You don’t keep your hands off her.) (I said, Shut up! I haven’t let it get past heavy cuddle. If you and I ever stroll Gay Street, you shameless mermaid, it will be dessert, not the pièce de résistance.) (That piece won’t resist!) (Hush up!) “Do you understand, Jake? Old Johann—me!—thinks that Winnie is quite some dish.”
“Well. . . I understand it—in Johann.”
“I wonder if you would understand it in Eunice? Jake, how do you feel about homosexuality?”
“I don’t feel anything about it. Never been interested.”
“Not even curious? Jake, I’m a full generation older than you are. When I was a kid, homosexuality or ‘perversion’ as it was called, was hardly even a myth; I never heard of it until long after I was centered on girls. Oh, I don’t mean there wasn’t any; I know now that there was, lots of it. But it was spoken of seldom and kept under cover. When I was fifteen, a man made a pass at me—and I didn’t know what he was after; he just scared me.
“Would a fifteen-year-old boy today be that innocent? You know he wouldn’t be; there are books and magazines and pictures—and other boys—to make certain that he understands even if he doesn’t join in. The Government just misses endorsing it as a way to hold down our outlandish overpopulation—would endorse it openly, I feel sure, if it were not that a large percentage disapprove of it publicly while practicing it in private. It reminds me of that weird period in my youth when people voted dry and drank wet and the bootlegger was more sought after than the black-market butcher is today. How long has it been since the last ‘sex offense’ was prosecuted?”
“Rape by violence is still prosecuted; I can’t recall any others in the last twenty years. Blue laws about sex are dead letters; Supreme Court decisions have made them impossible to prosecute. Correction: Unlicensed pregnancy is a Federal offense under the General Welfare’ clause…but I’ve often wondered what would happen if a case were ever allowed to reach the Supreme Court.”
“That’s the only ‘sex crime’ which was not a crime when I was a kid, Jake. But I was talking about the ‘crime against nature’ which is no longer a crime; it isn’t even a peccadillo, it arouses less disapproval than smoking. However, by the time homosexuality was socially acceptable, my attitudes were long frozen. But I wonder what Eunice thought about it? Did you ever discuss it with her?”
Jake snorted. “Believe me, Johann—sorry, Joan Eunice—that was not a subject we had time for!”
“I suppose not. Nor did she discuss it with me.” (Fibber!) “But she gave me a gentle reprimand about it once.”
“So? How?”
“Oh, one day before I was bedfast, a messenger delivered something to my office. He was a real nancy-pants—lots of makeup, false eyelashes, curled hair, and waved his hips. A high, girlish lisp and oh so graceful in his gestures. After he was gone I made some intolerant remark and Eunice told me gently that, while she didn’t find such one-way boys attractive, she didn’t see anything wrong in a man loving man, or a woman loving a woman.” (Hey! I don’t remember any such conversation.) (So I’m a liar. But you could have said it—and I’m making a point.)