Tabitha pushes the front seat forward to squeeze into the back with half of a waffle still sticking out of her mouth. She takes a bite before flopping into the seat. “Ahh, I love the smell of fresh rental car. Don’t you? I brought some tapes. Charlie, put this one in would ya?”
Jello Biafra’s voice bounces around the interior of the car. “Ever thought of what a sadomasochistic culture we really have? How much of our emotional pulse revolves around pain. How many people cling to grim religions based on torture, afraid to break the cycle out of fear of the unknown? It is so much more secure to hate your own guts. What do we talk about at parties to get attention…pleasure? Love? Uh, uh, we talk about pain. Like showing off the busted leg to the chums in the locker room, or at the ski lodge, or saying, “Look at these gnarly scars I got when I wiped out on my skateboard!” War wounds, pain. The proof of purchase of adventure. I crashed and burned, therefore I am alive. When was the last time you heard someone reminisce about the orgasm they had the other day? What kind of reaction do you think they would get? I mean, I don’t agree with a lot of what hip-hop artists have to say about women, but I do think that Ice-T has an interesting point. Imagine what life would be like if we all felt relaxed enough and comnfortable around each other that a person of either sex could go up to someone else of either sex that they secretly found attractive or radiant, in need of a hug, whatever. Male-Female, Female-Male, male-male, female-female. Just go right up and come right out and say, “Hey, let’s get butt naked and fuck!” If the other person responded by saying, “No, I don’t want to.” It wouldn’t be such a big tense shattering, degrading experience because the stakes wouldn’t be raised so damn high that rejection wouldn’t hurt so bad that the other person couldn’t just immediately say, “Oh, okay, that’s fine. Let’s just be friends then.” Sure would eliminate a lot of uptight stupid games. That to me, is why so many artists that deal openly with sex and sexuality are being treated as political subversives.”
Charlie laughs. “Tabby, who is this guy? He’s great.”
Tabitha takes a bite of her waffle, “It’s Jello Biafra. He used to be the lead singer for the Dead Kennedy’s. He has five spoken word albums. This one is called I blow minds for a living. He totally kicks ass. It’s too bad that more people aren’t as bold. I would never have the balls to talk that kind of shit. He’s probably on some government list for assassination. I love him madly! I thought this might spark some interesting conversation for the trip. So, let’s talk kids.”
Charlie decides to take a risk, “I’ll bite. Anything to take my mind off of the end result. What should we talk about?”
Tabitha smiles. “Hmmm…Why don’t we start with the basics. We could talk about religion, politics or sex. This car ride can be a ‘getting to know you’ session. The three of us have never spent this much time together. Sex is always a good place to start. I know that Sky has been around the block more than once, but you’re kind of a prude, aren’t you baby?”
Sky swings around in her seat to shoot Tabitha a dirty look. “Hey! You know what they say about people who live in glass houses. You don’t exactly have sutures holding your knees together! What are you trying to do, get me in trouble? You passive-aggressive bitch. I think you get off on starting arguments.”
Tabitha smacks Sky in the arm. “Shut up. Let Charlie answer the question. Well, we’re waiting? What’s your claim to fame? Who was the lucky person to take the sacred virginity of Dr. Charles?”
Sky turns back around in her seat, looking at Charlie with a smirk, “Actually, I haven’t heard this story either. Charlie?”
Charlie can feel the pressure of curiosity weighting on her. “Damn, this is going to be a fun trip. I guess it’s good practice for when I have to talk to my mother later…You two aren’t going let me out of this one are you?”
The other two women answer in stereo, “No.”
Charlie pauses, “Fine, but you have to be more specific. Do you want to hear about the first man, or the first woman? Gay people usually have two virginity’s you know? Of course, one counts for a lot more than the other.” She meets silence from both prying parties. “Okay both then. When I was sixteen I started dating one of the football players at my high school, Jim…John…Jason. Huh, I don’t even remember the kid’s name. How’s that for a life changing experience? He was pretty though, a real model citizen. The type who always brought me home by curfew. He was all polite and respectful to my parents, but tried to get in my pants every chance he got. My mother was starting with the ‘marriage talk’ before I had a chance to protest. Luanne always had to have the last word. She would corner me and say things like, “That boy is a prize. He’ll probably become a doctor. You will have a comfortable future if you settle down with a man like that. Blah, blah, blah.”
Anyway, one night he asked me to go with him to his friend’s house. His friend was moving into a new apartment. When we got there the place was empty. There were two other guys carrying boxes out to a truck in the driveway. My delightful boyfriend led me down the hallway to the bedroom. His friend punched him in the arm, winked and handed him a condom on his way out. My first thought was, “That’s subtle!”
Apparently, it was my romantic destiny to lose my virginity in a vacant apartment in Niagara Falls. Now that’s textbook romance. I shrugged my shoulders and went with it. I figured, “What the hell. I might as well give it the old scout try.” I was never really into boys in the same way that my friends were. I thought that I had some sort of hormone deficiency or something. I assumed that after I had sex I might feel something new, but that was not the case. I was bored to death. Don’t get me wrong, he really tried. I really tried too…I tried not to laugh. Being groped by a teenage boy didn’t exactly strike me as sexy. I went through all of the motions. My friends had been telling me how wonderful this experience was supposed to be, but I was like, “You want me to put what in my mouth? I don’t think so!” I remember thinking, “Do you have to take your clothes off. I’d really prefer it if you didn’t. Frankly, you just look funny.”
I don’t know what it is about men. No offense, Tabby, but they have a weird smell, like dogs drenched in cheap cologne. There was something a miss about the whole thing. Finally, I grew tired of the failed foreplay and stood up. I quickly took off my own clothes. He looked puzzled. I was in a hurry to get it over with. I settled down on the plaid couch cushions that were on the floor, and I think that I actually said, “Okay, go ahead.” He probably thought that he hit the ‘slut’ jackpot, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I must have crushed his fragile male ego with my sincere disinterest. Through the next five minutes of the best sex of my life I was thinking about anything but the guy on top of me. When he was finished I thought, “At least that didn’t take very long. Now, take me home.”
Just when I thought that the worst part was over, he wanted to talk. I nudged him away from me. He was all sweaty, and I really didn’t want him near me in the first place. I shot up as soon as I was able to wiggle free. I put my clothes back on as quickly as I had taken them off. I told him, “I have to get back home. I have a lot of homework to do.” He said, “Sit with me for awhile.” I rolled my eyes, “Fine.” He handed me a cigarette, and I sat next to him on the floor. I have never been a smoker, but there is a first time for everything. He was rambling on about something unimportant. I was watching the gray smoke rise from the cigarette and daydreaming about what I wanted to eat when I got home. All of that effort made me kind of hungry. That was about the only feeling attached to the moment. I wasn’t disgusted, or appalled. I was just melancholy, and I wished that he would put his pants back on.”
Sky is laughing so hard that her stomach hurts. “That’s a great story. He’s probably telling that one to his therapist right now!”
Charlie laughs along with her. “Yup, I would call to ask him, but I can’t remember his name!”
Tabitha chimes in, “So, you just gave up after that?”
Charlie wipes her tears from her eyes as she tries to focus on driving. “No, I convinced myself that it might have just been one bad experience. I went out with two other guys after that. One was named Billy. He was a nice looking kid. I dated him for about four months. This time I initiated the sex in order to prove that I was just like everyone else. It didn’t work out.
The second guy was named Jeff. I went out with him for almost a year. I was definitely the more masculine person in that relationship. Since he was kind of a pushover, I felt more adventurous. I thought that if I spiced things up a little, I might enjoy myself more. I tried watching porn with him. I tried new positions. I even tried role-playing, but nothing worked. I broke up with him. He didn’t seem that heartbroken. In fact, I think he might be one of the boys. If I see him in a gay bar I’ll buy him a drink!” She starts laughing again.
Tabby is still being persistent, “Okay, what about the first woman?”
Charlie’s mood changes dramatically. Her tone is far more serious, and it is obvious that she is a little uncomfortable talking about it. She clears her throat. “Well, by the time I was nineteen I knew that I was attracted to women. Actually, I knew that I enjoyed the company of women long before that. I just didn’t realize that I wanted to have romantic relationships with them. That is, until I met Alexis. I had had small crushes on other girls, but Alexis proved that I was a lesbian. She was drop dead gorgeous, a tall Italian girl with long beautiful dark hair and haunting green eyes.
It was my first year at college. I spent most of my time studying, but one night the girl who lived in the dorm room next door asked me to go to a party. I never was big on drinking, but I was tired of sitting at the computer. I agreed because I thought, “It’s not that far from here. I can always walk home if things get stupid.”
That night I tried to find something presentable to wear, and I headed out to the party with a couple of girls from the dorms. We passed a group of frat boys that were littering the front porch. They hooted and hollered at the other girls that I was with. They seemed to enjoy the attention. Men never treated me that way. I must have given off the ‘Don’t you dare!’ vibe. Not to mention, I never wore tight clothes or make up.
Anyway, after about an hour of watching idiots chug beer through funnels and throw up all over the school logos on their sweatshirts, I had enough. I was leaning against the wall near the kitchen, holding a full glass of cheap beer that I had no intention of drinking. It just helped to hold it. That way no jerk was going to ask me if he could get me a drink. I was getting ready to put the plastic cup on any empty surface and slip away without anyone noticing. The girls that I came with were flirting shamelessly with a couple of drunken drips on the other side of the room. They would never notice that I had left.
I sighed as I bent down to get rid of the drink, and when I looked up there was a beautiful girl standing in front of me with a concerned look on her face. She took my cup and said, “You’re not leaving are you? We’ve never had a chance to talk. My name is Alexis. You’re Lenore, right? I’ve seen you in my English class. You always sit in the back, and you always disappear. It’s like someone is chasing you out of there.”
She handed the beer back to me. I was completely stunned that this girl had paid that much attention to what I was doing. No one ever noticed anything that I did. I was beginning to believe that I was invisible. We stood and talked for a few minutes. She told me that she was from Rochester, and I told her that I was from Amherst. She looked around the room, then she said, “You want to get out of here? I never liked parties. You?”
I shook my head and smiled, “No, these people make me nervous and I can’t stand the way most of these girls act when a man walks into the room. Don’t get me wrong, I think they’re nice, but their whole attitude changes when testosterone is thrown into the mix.”
After the words left my mouth I felt like the biggest jackass on the planet. I could feel myself blushing and I wasn’t sure why. I was all tongue tied and stupid all of the sudden. She laughed, “Straight girls. They’re an entirely different animal.” I was shocked. Was she saying what I thought she was saying? I would have never guessed that she was gay. I stood there trying not to let my jaw drop when she leaned in and said, “We can talk somewhere else. Let’s go.”
I put the drink down and followed her out the front door. We walked slowly around the campus. I had both hands in my pockets…mostly to wipe the sweat from my palms. I wasn’t sure what to say. The first words to come out of my mouth didn’t pass through the filter in my brain. “It’s kind of cold out here. You want to hang out in my room for awhile?” I stopped dead in my tracks. I couldn’t believe that I said that. What kind of idiot invites a strange girl up to her room after a ten minute conversation? My inner monologue was screaming at me, “Stupid, Stupid, Stupid!” I stared at the sidewalk and gave up breathing for a second. She stopped next to me and said, “Sure. I’ll bring the drinks.” At that moment I could use one. She said, “We can stop at my room first.”
To my complete surprise, her room was down the hall from mine. When I was able to speak without my voice cracking I said, “That’s funny, my room is right over there.”
She turned the key to open the door. “I know where your room is. I’ve seen you scurry in and out. I’m not surprised that you never noticed me. Your nose is always buried in a book. You must get really good grades. I’m not exactly that committed to my studies. I know that I should be, but I like to enjoy life once in awhile. You should try it sometime.”
I looked at my feet, feeling guilty for not noticing this girl before. She was hard to miss. I found it easier to talk to her back as she walked into the dark room, “I’m sure that you’re right. I probably worry too much about my grades. I haven’t seen very many humans since I started here. The last few months have been kind of hectic.” I wasn’t sure if I should follow her or not. So, I just stood there like an ice sculpture. I couldn’t figure out what to do with my hands. I wasn’t sure that I could look at her. That must have been the way that I was supposed to feel around boys in my early teens. I didn't feel it then, but now I was suffering from hormonal overload. Apparently, I had found the cure for the deficiency!
She picked up a bottle of scotch and two ceramic mugs from her dresser. I stood in the doorway with a dumbfounded look on my face. I thought, “Yeah, way to stay cool Charlie. She probably thinks you’re a fucking moron!” She walked toward me with a confident smile. I couldn’t move. I froze in place. She nearly walked into me and said, “ You have to turn around to get there, remember? Your room is that way? You told me so.” I really felt like a jerk then. I found the power to move after a short pause. She gently touched my arm to help me out. Electricity jolted through me. Just a simple touch nearly killed me. I wondered what I would do with her once I had her in my room. That scotch was looking better and better. I hoped that it would dull my nerve endings a little.
She followed me into my room without hesitation. It was obvious that she was far more comfortable with this than I was. I had left the desk lamp on because I hadn’t planned on being gone long, and I wanted people to think that someone was there. Now, I wanted to turn it off so that people couldn’t look in. I closed the door and watched her make herself comfortable on my bed of all places. She poured the scotch into the mugs. I swallowed hard and walked quickly to the window to close the curtains. With a death grip, I pulled the fabric together to block out the night. Then I turned around with a nervous laugh, “Hee, hee…”
Alexis smiled at me and said, “Relax, I’m not an ax murderer. Sit down and have a drink with me.” She handed me one of the mugs. I dropped to the floor without finesse and smacked the back of my head on the desk. That was classic. I pretended that it didn’t happen and casually took a gulp of the bitter drink clutched in my sweaty hand. It burned on the way down. I nearly choked. I had to think of something to say. I couldn’t just hold the mug up to my face forever, and she might want me to look at her eventually. Unfortunately, I stopped short when I tried to look her in the eye, and I stopped at her chest. I was trying not to stare, but I couldn’t help myself. My head stung from the little mishap with the desk. That was a reminder of how truly smooth I was.
Alexis looked down at me with her head tilted, “You okay? That looked like it hurt. Why don’t I sit down there with you?”
I crossed my legs to make room for her, and she scooted off of the edge of the bed to sit in front of me. I thought, “Oh god, she’s touching me. Her knees are touching mine!” I took another gulp of scotch, then held out the mug, “A little more please.”
She laughed and poured me half a glass, “So, when did you come out? You don’t look very old.”
I stammered, “Ccome out? I…uh, haven’t. How did you? What?” She seemed surprised.
“You are gay, right? I just thought that…”
I studied the carpet. “I am. I think I am. Yes?”
She was very understanding. In fact, she read me immediately, “You’ve never been with a woman have you? I’m sorry. I assumed that you were out. It’s just that you seem so…and I wanted to talk to you for a long time. You must think that I’m a forward asshole. Maybe I should leave?”
Suddenly, I found my voice, and it had no volume control. I busted out with a resounding, “No! I mean, you don’t have to go. It’s okay.”
She put her hand on my knee. If I wasn’t on the floor, I would have fallen over. She lifted my chin with her other hand to make eye contact. She whispered, “There’s only one way to find out for sure.”
When she kissed me I knew for sure! Oh yes, I was definitely gay. I experienced feelings that I never had before. The mystery was solved. So, those were the ‘fireworks’ that all of my friends had told me about. Before that kiss I thought that sex was a chore, a demand of a functional relationship, just a part of life. This however, was something much more. I actually wanted her. I wanted it to happen, and that it did. I lost my lesbian virginity that night.
Of course, when I woke up in the morning with a naked woman in my bed, I had a temporary panic attack. I was happy that I found out who I was, but I knew that I would have to say it out loud from then on. I watched her sleep for a few minutes. I was trying to get a grip on the situation. My first clear thought was, “Shit! Now I have to tell my mother!”
Sky glances over at Charlie, “Wow! I never would have imagined that, honey. You very rarely crack your head against anything when you’re with me. Nervous…Interesting.”
Tabitha hits the back of Sky’s seat, “Are you jealous? It sounds like you’re slightly miffed. Don’t like hearing about those who came before you? Guess what? It’s your turn to spill it. We have a long drive ahead. We might as well keep it interesting. I’m interested. Are you afraid, Sky? You sound a little nervous.”
Sky crosses her arms in defense, “No, Asshole. I’m not nervous. I’m not ashamed of my past. What about you? When do we get to hear your story? I’m sure that it is a whale of a tale.”
Tabitha sighs, “Fine. I’ll go first. That is, if you don’t mind?”
Sky turns her head in Tabitha’s general direction, “No sweetness. I can’t say that I mind at all. You started this. Give it up.”
Tabitha shifts in her seat, and crosses her legs. “It’s pretty simple. I don’t think that I was ever really a virgin. My stepfather was a pig. That’s the statistic you know? One in three women are sexually assaulted before the age of twenty one. So, statistically speaking, I’m the statistic. I wasn’t going to mention that, but since we’re being brutally honest, what the hell? I didn’t expect that much disclosure from Dr. Scotch over here! Good job Charlie, I must say that I’m impressed.
Aside from that, the first man that I was with was …a WOMAN. Surprise! I wanted to save that for the end, but Sky had to resist the natural order of the universe! Thanks a bunch, butthead. You are forever screwing up my finale. Who’s the Asshole now? Remind me to give you hell for the rest of your life, would ya? Kisses.”
Sky is shocked, “What?”
Tabitha yells, “I said my first was a woman! Did I stutter? Did your ears flap? Does your brain skip every now and then?”
Sky turns back around to face Tabby, “No, not that. I always knew that you were kind of lesbianish. That doesn’t bother me. Why didn’t you ever mention that crap about your stepfather before?”
Tabitha shrugs her shoulders. “It’s not that important. Everyone has some skeletons in their closet. After all of the courtroom bullshit, I was over it. He was locked up for three years. My mother moved us out of town with no forwarding address. Plus, I take comfort in the fact that he will rot in hell for the rest of eternity. Karma is a BITCH! Besides, I turned out okay. Have you ever seen a more well adjusted human being in all your life? My sister Vanessa became very successful. She’s a highly paid investment banker. She probably wipes her ass with cash. Talk about an overachiever. We don’t talk that much because she’s always riding my ass about giving up the music biz and getting a real job. Can I get back to my story now?”
Sky is incredulous. “You are something else. Do you know that? I can’t believe that you are so nonchalant about that. Even when you talk about something serious, you never take it seriously. It’s like you have this wall built up around you. I’m going to start calling you ‘Berlin.’ That’s your new nickname. I just don’t understand how someone can separate emotions like that. You said that you are a well-adjusted person, but I think that you are a psychiatrist’s nightmare!”
Tabitha laughs, “I thought that Charlie was the high strung one, but now the truth comes out. Hey, sweetheart, I’m just a street kid from Brooklyn. Do you really think that I have had the luxury of seeing a psychiatrist? I had to solve my own problems. No one ever held me close, and told me that everything was going to be just peachy keen. Besides, you’re not exactly an open book my dear. It would take heavily armed police officers and attack dogs to get anything real out of you. You’re the self-proclaimed writer, the big bad journalist who can’t handle a little truth or dare. You just can’t stand it when people are being honest. I think that other people’s truths bother you more than anything else; I also think that you chose journalism because it’s easier for you to look at life through a camera lens than it is for you to see things the way they really are. The life of fiction must be tough. You poor, poor child. Awwa!”
Charlie has been silent, but she sees this turning ugly, “Whoa! We’re not even to Albany yet. Don’t make me pull over! If you two can’t play nice I’ll turn around. I swear to god, I’ll do it.” She starts laughing as she imitates a cranky parent.
Sky takes a deep breath. “If Charlie breaks up with me over this, I’m holding you personally responsible, Tabby.”
Tabitha leans back in her seat. “Okay, you go first.”
Sky literally curls up into a ball. She pulls her knees up to her chest and yanks a cigarette from the pack on the armrest.
Charlie says, “Honey, we’re not supposed to smoke in the rental.” She stops dead when Sky glances at her sideways. “Never mind.”
Sky cracks the window open and stares blankly at the passing scenery. “Before I came out I dated boys who were more like girls. They had to meet very strict requirements. Most of them had long hair and pretty faces.
When I was seventeen I met a Canadian guy named Kenny. He was very charismatic. The charm was plentiful, but one should beware the snake charmer.”
She takes a long drag from her cigarette. “I explained to him that I was saving myself for marriage. That was a lie. I already knew that I liked women.
We were going out for about seven months when things started getting tense. I would hold his hand, go out to concerts, and even make out with him. That wasn’t enough. He was twenty-two, and he was growing impatient with my reserved sexual nature. He wanted more.
On my eighteenth birthday Kenny took me over the border to Canada. We had a nice dinner at an Italian restaurant. After dinner he talked me into going to his apartment. I was feeling further and further from home as the night went on, but he was a smooth talker. He talked me right into his bed. He swore up and down that he was in love with me. He said that he wanted to get married and have kids. You know, settle down. His logic was difficult to argue with. I figured that we were going to get married anyway. Why not sleep with him now? In addition to that, I was desperately trying to get rid of the feelings that I had for women. I was trying to avoid the whole ‘gay’ issue.
Two weeks later I missed my period. I called him in a complete panic. He said, “Who else have you been with?”
I was horrified. He knew damn well that I wasn’t with anyone else.
I said, “I took a pregnancy test, and it was positive.” That rotten bastard called me a liar and hung up on me.
Over the next month I called him repeatedly. He never called me back. So there I was, pregnant. I had to start thinking about my options. I entertained the thought of abortion, but I could never do that. I thought about adoption, but if I had a baby I would want to keep it. Things looked pretty bleak, and I knew that I would have to tell my parents eventually.
In my second month I had a little talk with my father. It was safer to tell him first. My parents were getting a divorce at the time, and my father was living in an apartment on the West Side. I hopped on a bus one afternoon and headed down to his apartment. He invited me in and offered me a cold beer. I declined as usual.
We joked around for a few minutes until he asked me what was on my mind. I must have looked like a small mammal attempting to cross a busy highway. I stared at him blankly before blurting it out, “Dad, I’m pregnant.”
He sighed and put his head down. “Who did it? I’ll kill him. I’ll kill his family. I’ll kill all of his friends. Where does he live? He will marry you. You know this don’t you? He will marry you if I have to hunt him down and break his legs first!”
I told him that Kenny wouldn’t return my phone calls. I told him that I didn’t want to get married, and I could raise the baby on my own if I had to. He didn’t agree.
He said, “Have you considered the options? I have some money in the bank. I could give you a couple hundred dollars, or I could even borrow the money. Whatever it takes. I don’t want you to live the way your mother and I had…” He stopped and looked up at me, regretting what he had said.
I glared at him, “The way you and mom had to? What the fuck is that about? Just something you never mentioned before? Was I the accident that ruined your lucrative life? Well, fuck you very much!” I stormed out with a level of rage that I had never felt before. I was shaking with fury by the time I made it back home.
My mother was in the kitchen making dinner. She didn’t even look at me when she asked, “Where have you been? I sent your brother out to look for you. I need help around here once in awhile you know? Now that your father is gone the place isn’t that messy, but you could do the dishes every now and then. Don’t give me any garbage about being busy. What do you do all day anyway? Every time I see you, you’re just scribbling something secretive in that stupid notebook of yours. No one ever met a nice man by thinking too much. It’s time that you concentrate your energy on more important things. Poetry doesn’t pay the bills, and if you go to college there’s no major in LAZY!”
Halfway through my mother’s speech I doubled over in agony. I looked down to see that my pants were covered in blood. I tried to talk, but the pain was blinding. When my mother turned away from the sink she saw that I was leaning against the chair and bleeding half to death. She yelled, “Oh my god!” She dropped a glass in the sink and ran over to me. I could only say one word. “Hospital.”
My mother helped me walk toward the back door and she swiped the car keys that were hanging on a hook. She drove me to the hospital, weaving in and out of traffic like a mad woman. I couldn’t find the strength to comment on her driving. I was curled up in the front seat, trying to find a comfortable position.
The emergency room doctors took me into a room immediately. They started asking me questions that I didn’t want to answer like, “Are you pregnant?” I finally gave it up and said “yes.” I’ll never forget the silence from my mother. Sometimes it’s not what you say that’s important. Sometimes cessation of sound is far more deadly.
The doctors asked my mother to leave the room while probed me with cold metal instruments. I held on to those sheets like they were my last hope at salvation. The nurse stuck a needle in my arm, and the next thing I knew I was waking up in a different room. My mother was standing over me like a dark shadow, blocking out any sign of sunlight. She was ominous and fierce. Standing there, consumed by her own vengeful nature.
I looked up at her because I didn’t have any other choice. I wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere else. For the first time in my life I prayed for deliverance. I couldn’t imagine a worse fate than facing my mother in that moment.
She was cruel from the first words to leave her mouth, “So, who’s the lucky guy? Do you have to check your calendar to remember? How many were there? Two, five, ten, more? Should I keep going, or are you satisfied in lying about the number? I always knew that this would happen. Wait until I tell your father!”
Maybe it was the medication, or maybe I had just been beaten up enough. I found a tiny spark of bravery and it grew rapidly. I grit my teeth and hissed at that bitch with everything that I had left, “You fucking monster! I hate you. Don’t worry about dad. I already had a little chat with that drunk. I told him that I’m pregnant. He told me how I ruined your life by placing myself in your womb. It’s amazing how I did that. It’s almost as if you and dad never had sex to make me. As it turns out, I’m my own fault. You had nothing to do with it. You high riding, holier-than-thou liar. I made another mistake recently. Yes, that’s right, I had sex with a boy…once. He won’t talk to me now and I’ll expect no sympathy from you. Why don’t you just get the hell away from me and let me wallow in all of MY mistakes!”
She sneered at me with seething hostility. She bent down to my face until our noses nearly touched and said, “You’re not pregnant anymore. That baby found a way out. It just had to follow the beaten path.”
After that our relationship was never the same. I still lived at home for several months, but we avoided each other as much as possible. I did the dishes, mopped the floor, I even dusted those stupid little nic-nacs that she kept all over the house. I did anything to avoid an argument. I became the perfect daughter. I might have felt guilty for talking to my mother that way, but I learned my cruelty from the master.
In the meantime I had found true love. Her name was Leah. She was a student at Performing Arts High School. She was a little bit younger, but that didn’t scare me off. It started out as friendship. We would walk to the local coffee shop, talk about poetry and culture. I just enjoyed her company, and I was not going to mention my feelings. I mean, why screw up a good thing?
One day she invited me to spend the night at her house. She was working on a project and she wanted me to help her write something for it. I agreed without hesitation. We stayed up all night talking over coffee and sneaking cigarettes in the back hall. She confessed that she had feelings for women. I felt a sense of relief that she had said it first. She was the first woman that I slept with.
Leah and I dated for as long as I could stand. I was madly in love with her, but she liked boys too. I grew tired of competing with her boyfriend for her affections and I told her that I had had enough. I was completely heartbroken. She could have cared less.
Anyway, my parents divorce was final by the time I turned nineteen. My father was drinking more than usual, and one day he decided to jump in his car for a leisurely ride. He crashed on the skyway above Buffalo and died, but not before killing an elderly woman in the car in front of him. They found his mangled body behind the steering wheel. A bottle of booze was tipped over in a puddle on the seat next to him.
After that my mother decided that she was truly concerned about her mortal soul. In the next year she hooked up with the ‘Born Again Christians.” She was baptized and whatever else it is that those folks do. Before I knew it she started saying things like, “You’re not a true Christian.”
I couldn’t wait to tell her that I was gay. I remember it was a Saturday night because my brother Manny was going to visit our Uncle Pete. The house was completely empty. It was just me and the witch. She was eating a tomato sandwich at the kitchen table. I came in and sat down across from her. She looked surprised. She said, “So, you’re talking to me now?” I said, “Just this once. I’m moving out. I found an apartment and I got a job at the grocery store. I’ll be gone in a week.”
Denise dropped her sandwich back onto the plate. She said, “You’re leaving?” I looked her dead in the eye and said, “Yes, I know that you really won’t want me here after I tell you what needs to be said.” I could tell that she was bracing herself for whatever I was going to say. She asked, “What needs to be said?” Surprisingly, I paused. This was harder than I had imagined. I opened my mouth and the first thing to come out was, “I’m a lesbian.”
I thought that she was going to die right there at the table. Her eyes were round as saucers. She stood up from her chair and yelled, “Excuse me? You’re a WHAT?”
I stood up from my chair to yell back, “Lesbian. Do you want me to spell it?
She shook her head and said, “Oh no you’re not! Just because you had a miscarriage? That doesn’t mean that you can just give up on men. Oh no. Women should get married and have children. It is our lot in life to do so. If you do not adhere to God’s rules you are no longer welcome in this house. You don’t have a week to move out. I want you gone now!”
I stayed with my friend Amy for the next week until I moved into my apartment. I haven’t talked to my mom since.
Now that we’re being honest, Tabby, why don’t I continue?
After all of the upheaval in my life, I just about gave up everything. I was living in my apartment, alone. I had little interest in what the rest of the world was doing. I sat around and wrote fiction. That’s the only thing that saved my life.”
Tabitha is feeling more apologetic than usual, “That’s okay, Sky. You don’t have to say any more. I’m the Asshole. I didn’t mean to get you all peeved. I just wanted to talk for a bit.”
Sky is far too furious to stop, “No, no. I think Charlie should hear this. I think that you should hear it too. In fact, maybe I need to hear it. I’ve never said these things out loud before. This should help everyone figure out what to think of me.”
Charlie hands Sky another cigarette from the pack, “Here, smoke. You’ve earned it. Maybe I should have one too. How about it Tabby? Smoke?”
Tabitha takes the cigarette and lights it without a word. The smoke from all three fills the cramped space with a thick gray cloud. No one thinks to open a window.
It is like some strange bonding ritual.
Sky releases her legs and puts them back on the floor. Her eyes focusing sharply on the nothing ahead. The road stretches out into the horizon like a piece of pulled black taffy. All of the fire has been extinguished, and stigma settles on the surface of her skin.
Sky begins to speak in an inferior tone of voice. “Do you know how I saved money to move to New York? I didn’t get there on some scholarship. I was a stripper. A piss poor excuse for a stripper at that. I had no love for the sport. That’s what it is, sport. You spend all of your time and energy hooking just the right type of scumbag and pocketing his money. I couldn’t even dance, but that’s not important. I squeezed myself into a nice tight rubber thong and moved awkwardly to music. It wasn’t that hard to do really. That is except for the first time.
I was swinging around that pole, making googly eyes at this fat bald bastard in the front row. His face was alive with piggish delight. He waved a hand full of slimy one-dollar bills at me like a bullfighter taunts the beast. I was trying to concentrate on what I was doing, but I was distracted by the man holding the bribe. Was I supposed to salivate? Beads of sweat ran down his chunky face. Apparently, this was more exercise than her had ever gotten. He was begging for me to come over. I was nauseous along the way. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t breathe. The knot in my stomach threatened to twist me up entirely. I wasn’t there. I couldn’t be there, half naked and squirming. It was like mutating in the petri dish of the damned. I was under a microscope, trapped beneath the hot glass peephole in a mad scientist’s lab. I thought, “Do I have to let him touch me?” I knew that was the only way to make a profit. I wiggled over to the side of the stage and presented my ass to the first taker. He stuffed the money into my underwear as if to say, “Thank you.”
That first night I must have thrown up five times. The other girls were kind enough to leave a bucket just behind the curtain. They knew that vomiting was a natural reaction to selling your soul. I tried to blame it on the hot lights, the smoke in the room, stage fright, but I knew the real reason. I was an official object. There is no substitute for shame. It is a feeling like none other. I became a living, breathing, walking puppet. I was a sales representative of sorts. I’ll show you the merchandise, but no touching until you pay.
After a few shows I became numb. My eyes were as vacant as a mall parking lot at midnight. Being naked was easy. Dancing for men was easy. Men were easy period. I learned quickly. I learned that this was nothing more than a business. I danced. I stripped. I counted my money and I went home. It seemed simple enough.
In the midst of my dancing glory I spent a lot of time exploring my sexual side. I slept with men, women, and married couples. It didn’t really matter. It wasn’t just sex. It was sex for gain. I discovered my secret talent. I could seduce just about anyone to get anything that I wanted. I had sex for rent, cash, food, booze, even a car. It became a challenge for me. I would find a perspective victim, drain their pocketbook and move on to the next. Men were always willing to give me anything for a piece and that’s exactly what they got, but just a piece. Those dumb bastards always fell in love. They say that men can separate sex from love, but that is not entirely true. Men fall in love with good sex. They didn’t love me, but they sure loved what I could do for them. ‘Sky for sale’ should have been tattooed on my ass. I guess that makes me a prostitute. Leah broke my heart, and I was convinced that there was nothing left for me. I had zero respect for my own body. Neither did anyone else.
Do you know the difference between a slut and a whore? I’ll tell you. A slut is born in nature. Sluts have sex because they enjoy it, because they are brave enough to dismiss convention. I can respect a slut. I however, was something far more sinister. A whore to the tenth degree.
A stripper friend of mine knew this guy. She told him that I was looking for some extra cash. Stripping wasn’t cutting it. I wanted to get out of town immediately if not sooner. Jasmine introduced me to her friend. He was also her dealer. Some of the girls needed to blur their senses with drugs. I had always been tougher than that. At least I thought that I was. I did see some profit in it though. I thought that selling drugs might make me feel better about myself. That way the junkies could be my whores for a minute. With that sort of logic, what could go wrong?
Somehow I knew that I could trust a gentleman with the nickname ‘Boa.’ Never was there a more sophisticated individual. He had an interesting take on life. He used to tell me, “Balls are like dollars. You never miss ‘em until you need ‘em.” How could I argue with that? I had a pair made of brass. A pretty little white girl selling ‘H’ on the street. Come to think of it, it was more asinine than courageous.
Fortunately, I never chased the dragon myself. I watched mutants curl up in corners with their handy tin foil. They were quivering masses of human jelly, swerving in and out of traffic with bobble heads. The decay of civilization rested in my hands. I was responsible for life and death. I was the ‘outfit’ girl. Ex school teachers, family men, and veterans flocked at the sight of me. I had to carry a gun. I slept with it under my pillow. One wrong flip during the night. One loud noise outside my window and I could have blown my own damn head off.
I almost killed my cat one night. She scurried across the bed in a threatening manner. I pulled the gun out as a reflex. I had to concentrate on not pulling the trigger until my eyes focused on the target. Fiona looked at me and meowed. That’s when I decided to give it up. I had saved over $10,000. With that much money I could leave town forever.
I got dressed one morning and packed my few belongings into a suitcase. I wrapped my rent money into a note that said ‘consider this my notice’ and taped it to my landlord’s door. I dropped my cat off at a friend’s house. I dropped the drugs, drug money and gun off at Boa’s place, and I was off to the big city.
Once I was in New York I felt free at last. The only problem was that I didn’t know anyone. I rented a small room in the Bronx from an old lady named Helga. She took pity on me, and she didn’t charge me much. Despite my former life I still looked like a sweet kid.
Anyway, one fateful afternoon I was sitting in a deli having a turkey sandwich. A woman walked in to place an order. She noticed me sitting in the corner. I was scribbling something secretive in my stupid notebook. She had a few minutes to waste so she peeked over my shoulder to ask what I was writing. I nearly jumped out of my skin. When I calmed down I jokingly told her that I was writing the next great American novel. She laughed and said, “Oh really. What’s it about?” I was slightly annoyed. I responded with, “Lesbian strippers from the wrong side of the tracks.” She smiled and said, “You must be from New York. I’m Rochelle.”
I looked up at her for the first time. She was stunning and well dressed to boot. I smiled as politely as I could and said, “Sorry about that. I’ve had a rough…well, day I guess. My name is Sky, and I’m not from New York actually. I just figured that I’d put my attitude in the appropriate city for once.” She shook my hand and asked if she could sit down. I motioned to the seat across from me, “Go right ahead. I could use the company. I’m renting from this old lady. I like her a lot, but she’s not exactly a great conversationalist. I’m not even sure what language she speaks. It’s like a weird mixture of English and god-knows-what. She is sweet though.”
Rochelle and I talked for over an hour. She asked if she could buy me dinner some night, or if I only ate sandwiches by myself. I laughed and said, “No, sometimes I eat sandwiches with other people, but I’m looking to expand the operation. Dinner sounds good. I’ve always wondered what that would be like.” She smiled and handed me her phone number. I went back to my scribbling.
I dated Rochelle for a few months. She was a high class lawyer, and she talked me into going to college. I tried to explain that it might be difficult, considering that I had no money. She spent days on the phone with her ‘connections.’ Before I knew it I was going to go to college. It was probably for the best. I needed to do something with my life. Only one thing bothered me about that set up. Once again I was the whore. Rochelle started treating me like I owed her something. If it wasn’t sex, it would be something else. I didn’t want to stick around to find out what that something was. I cut her off. It was easy. I had done it so many times before. Just part of the game, just a part of business right? Wrong. She was not happy at all. There’s nothing like cutting someone off when you owe them something. That was her way of keeping me, she could forget it. I was gone before my shadow had a chance to catch up.
Well Charlie, that’s the ugly truth of it. I think that’s everything. Would you like to drop me off here?”
Charlie pulls the car over to the side of the road. She shifts it into park and takes off her seat belt.
Sky cringes as she reaches for the handle to open the door. “That’s okay, I understand. Just so you know, I do love you.”