She Done Gone And Fainted Day!
Father Clean is holding a wet towel to Cicely's forehead and repeating, "Breathe my child." Her mother, Mrs. Loom, has unbuttoned the top button from Cicely 's sweater. Her father, Mr. Loom, is trying to peer over Father Clean's shoulder, trying to see if his little girl is gonna be okay. Cicely's brother Hinkley is glaring at you, his fists clenching and relaxing, clenching and relaxing.
"What'd you tell her?" Hinkley barks.
Say, "A secret."
"What the fuck'd you tell her?"
Say, "I told her what made the moon. Why the stars make her happy. I told her if I was handed a machine gun and a fly swatter and forced to choose between opening fire on an elementary school playground or exacting one light slap of the fly swatter upon the back of her hand, I would ask her what she thought I should do. I told her I'm learning to fast-dance so that I won't embarrass her at the many weddings we will be attending together over the next forty some years. I told her how bugs fuck, even gnats. I told her after I first saw her face I didn't sleep for four days, for fear of dying in my sleep without ever seeing her face again. I told her every decision I ever make will be decided based on the answer to one simple question: Will this make Cicely happy?"
"Is that it? That's kind of nice."
Say, "I also might have mentioned that I think I might be queer."
Hinkley will look down at his sister, who is now awake, looking up at you. Only 18 hours before the ceremony. If you don't say anything else, she'll go through with the wedding.
Happy She Done Gone And Fainted Day!