Chapter 1: A LetterA letter arrived as I was leaving for work. The mailman and I had a cartoon moment of nearly colliding.
“Ah, Mr. Rutledge. Good morning. This letter has traveled a bit to get to you.”
Mr. Cameron, whose uniform always made him look like he’d fought his way out of the jungle to deliver my mail, held out a rumpled envelope.
The envelope’s original address was scratched out as was the return address. The postmark was smudged. Across the front my sister had written, Not at this address. Forward to F.A.G. Joey Rutledge, and my home address.
Ah, my older sister had not lost her homophobic outrage.
“I just wanted to say…” Mr. Cameron began, and I cringed. Here we go again. “I’m proud to know someone who’s a member of the Federal Arts Guild. My younger brother submitted his
