Hold Me Closer: The Tiny Cooper Story (3 page)

TINY:

I have
no idea
what you’re talking about. Did you see the Bears game last night?

Phil looks disappointed and leaves the stage. Tiny, meanwhile, turns to the audience.

TINY:

It’s always easy to blame other people for holding you back. But sometimes, the only person holding you back is . . . well . . . you.

The batboy comes out and gives Tiny a new button, which reads
AGE: 14
.

TINY
(
spoken
):

Sometimes a long, dark night of the soul can last for weeks, months, or even years. In my case, it was weeks, but still. Those weeks had years behind them. Because even though I was born gay, and grew up gay, and liked boys in that way and didn’t like girls in that way, there was something holding me back: that one simple word—
gay
—spoken out loud.

It was a glass closet. Everyone could see me inside. I waved to them
all the time
. But I was trapped nonetheless. I had supportive parents, but I’d never really had the conversation with them. I had a best friend, but I’d never had the conversation with him, either. I’d never had a boyfriend. I’d never really tried. I’d lost myself in football, in school, in jokes and fashion. But by being lost in these things, I was losing myself.

I know it’s hard to believe, but it took me a while to actually say it. Sometimes it’s hard, even when it shouldn’t be. And sometimes it’s hard because it is.

That’s what this song is about. Normally in a coming-out story, the big scene is when the main character tells his parents. Or his best friend. Or the boy he loves. But ask anyone who’s ever been through coming out—and I’m not just talking about coming out as gay here, I’m talking all kinds of coming out. We all know: The first person you have to come out to is yourself. So this scene is just me alone on a stage. Because that’s how it was. Me alone, singing to myself, and finally hearing it.

Piano, please.

Cue piano intro.

[“I KNOW IT, BUT WHY CAN’T I SAY IT?”]

TINY:

Ever since way back when,

I’ve played with Barbies

and dreamed of Ken.

I’ve read
Vogue
from cover to cover

like an unrequited lover

waiting for his ticket

to the midnight ball.

My room is full of hoardings

of original cast recordings,

singing to me of somewhere,

and glory, and hope.

Even a blind man can see

what is going on with me . . .

but when I reach for the words

they’re not there.

I know it, but why can’t I say it?

Why am I hiding

the thing I know the most?

Who am I trying to be

when I’m denying I’m me?

Why is the truth

so stuck inside?

Hiding.

There’s not much chance of hiding.

And still I’m not confiding,

afraid of something I can’t name.

Careful.

I tell myself,

be careful.

But sometimes

careful

cares too much

about what people think

and what they might say

their careless remarks

about you being—

Tiny stops. He can’t say the word. In the silence, the
CHORUS
comes onstage. It is a chorus of gay kids—some of them the boyfriends from the second act, some of them young lesbians, including Lynda, the lesbian babysitter. One of them, to appear again later, is
THE GHOST OF OSCAR WILDE
.

CHORUS:

I know it, but why can’t I say it?

Why am I hiding

the thing I know the most?

TINY AND CHORUS:

Who am I trying to be

when I’m denying I’m me?

Why is the truth

so stuck inside?

Hiding.

There’s not much chance of hiding.

And still I’m not confiding,

afraid of something I can’t name.

Careful.

I tell myself,

be careful.

But sometimes

careful

cares too much

about what people think

and what they might say

their careless remarks

about you being—

TINY:

gay.

There’s a pause in the music as the word is felt. Tiny is both scared and exhilarated to have said it out loud. The chorus chimes in.

CHORUS:

If they’re truly your friends, you won’t lose them.

If they don’t get it at first, you’ll excuse them.

If they love you, they’ll want you to love.

If they love you, they’ll want you to be loved.

TINY:

I know it.

CHORUS:

So you must say it.

TINY:

I say it.

CHORUS:

Because it is your truth.

TINY:

Hiding.

CHORUS:

There is no meaning in hiding.

TINY:

Careful.

CHORUS:

Don’t be careless with your heart.

TINY:

If they’re truly my friends—

CHORUS:

—you won’t lose them.

TINY:

If they don’t get it at first—

CHORUS:

—you’ll excuse them.

If they love you, they’ll want you to love.

If they love you, they’ll want you to be loved.

TINY:

I know it, and so I will say it.

No more hiding

the thing I know the most.

I am trying to be

the me I know I can be.

So starting today

I will be openly

CHORUS:

Openly

TINY:

Openly

CHORUS:

Openly!

TINY:

Gay!

At the end of this song, Tiny should look very relieved.

The lights go out. When they come back up, we’ve returned to the stage setup we saw in the “Religion” scene—this time Mom and Dad are sitting on the bench, and Tiny is in front of them.

For this number, Tiny speaks all of his lines, Mom sings hers, and Dad remains silent.

[“STATING THE OBVIOUS”]

TINY
(
spoken
):

Mom. Dad. I just wanted to let you know . . . I’m gay.

MOM
(
sung
):

Oh, Tiny.

Our Tiny.

We know, Tiny.

It’s okay.

TINY
(
spoken
):

I dream of boys. I fantasize about boys. When I jerk off, I think of boys. I mean, not that I jerk off or anything.

MOM
(
sung
):

The strongest kind of love

is unconditional love.

The moment you were born,

I knew unconditional love.

TINY
(
spoken
):

And while I’m coming out, I might as well tell you that time I told you Djane must have stolen your lipstick when she was over? Well, that was me. But I didn’t really like the way I looked in lipstick. At least not that color.

MOM
(
sung
):

You are so complicated.

I can see.

But you’re good at heart.

And that’s what matters to me.

TINY
(
spoken
):

I cheated at algebra. There’s a reason your vodka tastes watered down. I feed my peas to the dog every time you serve them. I just don’t want to hurt your feelings.

MOM
(
sung
):

We’ll always love our Tiny

And we’ll always love your Tiny, too.

We can’t wait to witness

All the big, gay things you’ll do.

TINY
(
spoken
):

I download porn on the family computer, but I burn it to disk so it won’t actually be on the hard drive. And you know how I told you I worked at the library at school to pay for my subscriptions to
Vogue
and
Details
and
Men’s Health
? Well, that was actually the birthday money Grandma sent me that she wanted me to spend on my “religious education.”

MOM
(
sung
):

Look at this Big Gay Baby of ours—

not something you read about in Dr. Spock.

Look at our Big Gay Baby—

not what we were expecting when we were

expecting.

But we love him.

Oh, yes, we love him.

TINY
(
spoken
):

You’re okay with this, aren’t you? I’m not going to say I’m sorry. I’m not sorry. The only thing I’m sorry about is keeping it from you for so long. And maybe the peas, because I think Baxter likes them even less than I do.

MOM
(
sung
):

Don’t be sorry.

Never be sorry.

You don’t have to be.

We love you.

We’ll always love you.

Unconditionally.

Tiny and his mother embrace. Then Tiny looks to his father, who’s crying. All dialogue is spoken here, to end of scene.

TINY:

Dad?

DAD
(
trying to hide his tears
):

It’s okay, son. Everything she said.

TINY:

Really?

DAD:

Really.

TINY:

Then I hope you don’t mind . . . I signed us up to be in a mother-daughter fashion show. I thought that would be a great way for me to let everyone know who I am. Is that okay?

The spotlight closes in on Dad. He’s caught.

Tiny’s father takes center stage. As the scenery changes behind him to set up for the scene after this one, he opens up to the audience. He loves his son—there’s no doubt that he loves his son. But still, this is hard for him.

[“WHAT DO YOU DO?”]

DAD:

What do you do when your son

asks you to be in a

mother-daughter fashion show?

Do you pack up and leave

or figure out the best way to say

no, no,
no
?

It’s a public display,

an embarrassing array

of all the things

you don’t want people to say.

My own father took me fishing

and left me always wishing

that being in that boat

would make us less remote.

But instead we’d sit without speaking,

time together slowly leaking.

Our lines tied in a knot,

the big one never caught.

I told myself that when I became a father

I’d be the type who’d always bother.

I’d get to know my son.

Never scorn, never judge, never run.

In order to be a good father

you have to be a good mother.

You have to take every chance

as if you won’t get another.

My father died

before I could ask the right questions.

Now I ask them anyway

and never get answers.

What do you do when your son

asks you to be in a

mother-daughter fashion show?

I’ll tell you what you do—

You go.

As the audience hopefully applauds Dad and his decision, he goes offstage. The lights go up, and we see the runway for the mother-daughter fashion show assembled. Soon, mothers and daughters (all played by girls, just to make the juxtaposition more effective) are parading in matching outfits to the opening strains of
“I KNOW THIS CAN’T BE EASY FOR YOU.”
It all climaxes when Tiny and his dad appear . . . in matching outfits.

A note on the outfits: This is not a drag show for Tiny and his dad. Even though there is nothing at all wrong with a boy wanting to wear dresses, there
is
something wrong with assuming that every gay boy wants to wear dresses. Some might. Some don’t. Tiny was never into that particular Cage aux Folles, so when he suggests his father and he participate in a mother-daughter fashion show, they are dressed the way he wants to be dressed—FABULOUSLY. Needless to say, there should be more sparkle and brightness than Tiny’s dad has ever considered wearing. (Also note: There is also something wrong with assuming that every gay boy wants to wear sparkles and bright colors. Some don’t. I do.)

Tiny and his dad’s entrance leads, of course, to a big production number.

Tiny is somewhat astonished that his father has agreed to do this with him. And Tiny’s dad is very much astonished that he’s at a mother-daughter fashion show. This isn’t like the end of
Grease
, when Sandy is suddenly liberated by trying on a slutty girl’s clothes. Tiny’s dad is very uncomfortable.

What follows is a reflection of their emotions.

[“I KNOW THIS CAN’T BE EASY FOR YOU”]

TINY:

I know this can’t be easy for you.

DAD:

I won’t try to deny that it’s true.

TINY:

There are other ways of spending a Sunday . . .

DAD:

. . . than walking with your son down the runway.

TINY:

But here we are in matching outfits.

DAD:

Just look at where my waistline sits!

TINY:

Balls out with the family charm . . .

DAD:

. . . trying not to pull the nearest alarm.

TINY
(
pause, then spoken
):

I’m really glad you’re here.

DAD:

I know it can’t be easy for you.

TINY:

I won’t try to deny that it’s true.

DAD:

There must be times when you feel like a target.

TINY:

Which is why I live my life like I’m totally jet-set.

DAD:

I just hope I’m a good father.

TINY:

I just hope I’m a good son.

TINY AND DAD:

I never know—

I only know—

this can’t be easy for you.

They head down the runway.

CHORUS OF ONLOOKERS:

I know this can’t be easy for you.

Just hold your smile

and see it through.

Everybody’s watching—

they always do.

Step forward

and forward

and never forget

the person standing next to you.

TINY:

In so many ways you amaze me.

DAD:

In so many ways you amaze me.

CHORUS OF ONLOOKERS:

I know this can’t be easy for you.

But it can be so many other things too.

TINY:

So hold your smile

DAD:

and see it through.

TINY AND DAD:

Together

we can do this.

You and I.

Here and now.

TINY:

You throw the ball and hope—

DAD:

You catch the ball and run—

TINY:

You walk wide—

DAD:

You walk tall—

TINY:

You don’t hide—

DAD:

You don’t fall—

TINY AND DAD:

Step forward

and forward

and never forget

the person standing next to you.

They make it through. With style.