Page 53 - Some Dance to Remember

Some Dance to Remember 23

bound, into the cold currents below. Tourists on a Bay excursion cruise,
the article reported, cheered and applauded.
“Why?” my student asked.
“Because they got what they wanted.”
“That’s why?”
“Why not?” I said.
She looked stymied.
Explaining the why of anything has never been my strong suit. That’s
one of the reasons I find wrestling through the effects of Ryan’s life an
exhausting exercise. Why, after all, isn’t really a whole question. Why is
only the yin of the yang, why not?
The Bridge fascinated Ryan. He once joked about entrepreneuring a
small business, printing engraved invitations. Something in quiet good
taste for a suicide: “Golden Gate Bridge. 9 PM. Midspan. Cityside. RSVP
regrets only.” He proposed starting a service to throw off the Golden Gate
Bridge the ashes of cowards who had always wanted to jump, but were
too chicken, and lived out the natural length of their unnatural lives. He
should never have joked about Death.
Solly Blue’s first lover had jumped off the Bridge one New Year’s
Eve. “He was very clever,” Solly said. “If he had jumped any other day,
I probably would have eventually forgotten the date. He wanted me to
remember him every New Year’s. And I do. I can’t help it. He made me
hate New Year’s.”
The tourists on the excursion cruise got what they wanted: the shock-
ing beauty of the naked boy’s fall, the horror of his splattering, splashing
Death, and the moral superiority of flying back to Kansas telling tales of
lurid California, and how good it feels to be back home.
“Everyone should get what they want,” Ryan said. “At least some ver-
sion of it.” Ironic that ultimately Ryan got it, and got it good. “Oh, how
you do me when you do me like you do,” he wrote to Kick.

9

It happened one night. It started with their first meeting. Ryan had
flown PSA from San Francisco to Hollywood/Burbank. Teddy was still
living with him, because, Ryan said, “Teddy can’t afford to move out. He
needs first and last months’ rent plus a security deposit.” Teddy worked
minium-wage jobs in fits and starts that drove Ryan mad. “Every six
months, Teddy has some medical problem.” Ryan was beside himself. “In
the eight years we’ve lived together, I had to get his teeth fixed. I’m talking

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