Coming of age & queer in an Arizona trailer park
The following is an excerpt from the new book Cactus Country: A Boyhood Memoir by Zoë Bossiere. This memoir of genderfluidity, class, masculinity, and the American Southwest set in an Arizona trailer park is available now through Abrams Press.In the shade of the Cactus Country bathhouse, I lay against the cool brick path with my hands in the air, watching blood seep from my split knuckles.
Tucson’s dry climate was hard on a body. By early afternoon, with the sun at its highest point in the sky, the playground’s metal monkey bars could sear blisters onto my fingers.
The black rubber of the cracked tire swing felt like sitting on a campfire, burning angry welts on the backs of my legs. I scratched at my ashen arms until they stung red and raw, aching in an almost pleasant way.
Since the boy’s family left, there had been no other children in the park to run or play or fight with. Nothing for me to do on long hot days like this but sweat it out in the shade until the sun went down.I held a thin page of comics from a copy of the Arizona Daily Star over my head, the back of my skull grinding uncomfortably against the pavement as I read.
