The sun filters into Charlie’s bedroom with the sharp edges of a finely cut diamond with the brilliance of stained glass, conjuring the spirits of bright colors to adhere to a naked canvas. The light rests upon Sky’s eyes as she sleeps, prying them open with the promise of a new day.
Charlie is resting on her side as usual with her right arm tucked beneath the cheek of an impish cherub.
Sky holds her close with one arm. She awakes with her face resting in the crook of Charlie’s neck, and she is drooling. Her first thought of the morning is “Oh, that’s attractive!”
Sky spends a moment caressing the satin skin of her lover, feeling the alabaster of Charlie’s shell beneath her palm. Sky must have been sleeping in one position throughout the night. This is revealed to her through the stinging needles in her arm as she lifts it to wipe the spit from her mouth.
Sky slides from the embrace of Egyptian cotton and swings her feet onto the cold wooden floor. The air in the apartment is intertwined with particles of chilled December air. Sky bends down to retrieve the silk robe from the floor as flashes of the night tickle her mind. It does not take long for her to realize that silk is a bad choice for warmth. The fabric hits her skin with an icy embrace before she is distracted by her pinstriped skirt sprawled on the bed like evidence at a crime scene. This makes Sky giggle to herself as she pads off to the bathroom.
A blue toothbrush rests in a porcelain cage. It might as well have had Commitment branded into the plastic handle. This action of hygiene confirms a relationship and binds two people together with shared courtesy. Sky has never been in a relationship before. This is all new and exists with the radiation of an x-ray. What to think of this? The toothbrush is an indication of things to come. It must have been love.
It is at least lust.
Sky returns to the bed with the minty freshness tingling across her lips, checking the corners of her mouth for any globs or residue. She crawls back under the sheets to feel the heat from Charlie’s resting body. The feeling of her innocent Charlie underneath her cool arm was all heat and subtle confirmation, sweet in all its essence. Sky finds that warm spot in which to rest her hang-ups. A valley where she can be comfortable. This is stranger than anything Sky has ever known. She loses herself in deep and contemplative thought as her lover rests on the pillow sleeping silently, not knowing what is going on in Sky’s mind.
Sky wonders what Charlie dreams of. Unicorns, never ending fields of lush grass, the leaves on mighty oaks bending to the breezes of spring, or are her subconscious thoughts focused on the passions of the night before? Sky pulls her body close to Charlie to get rid of the chill from the trip to the bathroom. She feels her breasts press up against the back of her girl, and now her nose rests again in the crook of Charlie’s neck. The remnants of yesterday’s cologne steams from the girl’s skin as she snores lightly. Charlie’s dirty blonde hair spills over the pillow like a glass of wine tipped over. The strands reach for Sky like the deliberate strokes of an artist’s paintbrush. White wine that is beautiful and fragrant. Charlie’s hair smells of coconut. “It must be the gel that she uses”, Sky thought.
Sky had never taken the time to sniff anyone before. She was too busy prowling from bed to bed. Too busy being the whore that she had been accused of being so many times before. It is amazing how someone can be called something for so long, and names become reality. Eventually the power of such words plants itself into the human brain like a disease, like a tumor that sprouts tentacles to choke off the last drops of truth. All that is left are the tiny voices of family and friends. The accusing tones of strangers and rumors follow the victim like a stalker.
Charlie’s slow waking interrupts Sky’s reflections of past accusations. Her self -esteem increases with the reassurance that Charlie will wake in her arms. Sky whispers, “Good morning.”
Charlie smiles at the sound of Sky’s voice caressing her neck.
“I’m going to take a bath, and then I want you to join me for breakfast.”
Charlie nods her head in acknowledgment of Sky’s offer. Then Sky delicately separates from the warmth of Charlie’s body and disappears into the bathroom for a second time.
Charlie stretches her limbs to loosen the stiffness of slumber as she hears the running water hit the smooth bottom of the bathtub and then curl itself around the pool of splashing heat. She imagines Sky bent over the faucet running her slender fingers under the stream to assure the perfect temperature. This thought levitates Charlie from her place of rest. She feels an urge to inspect what is going on in the next room.
Charlie tips her naked body against the doorframe of the bathroom and observes Sky as she went about her routine. “I’m not a peeping Tom. I just came in to brush my teeth.”
Sky glares back at Charlie with a smile and says, “I wouldn’t have left the door open if I didn’t want you here.”
Then Sky grabs a bottle of lavender scented bubble bath from the corner of the tub and pours a thin ribbon of purple liquid along the rushing stream. White bubbles begin to gather where the moving and the still water meet with embrace. Sky submerges a foot into the bubbly froth of the bath with the pointed toes of caution. Charlie watches Sky lower her body into the tub and become surrounded in a cloud fit for a queen. Sky’s knees surface, separating the bubbles into strands of white mist clinging to wet skin. She grabs a blue washcloth from the shelf next to the bathtub. Then she places it delicately on the slanted curve of porcelain to protect her from the cold backdrop of a warm soak.
Charlie watches Sky relax to the rhythmic echo of flowing water before she reaches for her toothbrush. Thoughts begin to surface in Charlie’s mind as she drags the toothbrush against her teeth in small circles. The girl who had tortured her to the breaking point is now as vulnerable as a newborn kitten. Charlie rinses the brush with hot water and places it back in its holder. Her face is reflected in the mirror with a look of satisfaction. Her skin is glowing with the glory of having spent a night in Sky’s clutches, and her hair is a wild mass of tangled strands.
“I hope you’re happy. Now I have to face my family for the holidays with sex hair!” Charlie turned as she spoke to Sky, and finds that she is drifting off to another realm in that tub.
Sky’s eyes are closed in a half sleepy state as Charlie approaches like a panther on the prowl. She grabs a loufa sponge and liquid soap from the shelf. Then she places one knee on the floor tiles next to the cold wall of the tub. She squeezes the bottle to extract the sweet smelling soap from the plastic and directs the squiggled line of delight onto the loafa in an abstract pattern. The scent of Lavender swirled into a serpent before wrapping itself around Charlie’s senses.
Charlie runs her eyes over the exposed flesh that peaked out above the bubbles. She whispers to Sky in a sultry voice, “ Royalty should become accustomed to having servants.”
A smile creeps along Sky’s lips before she opens one eye at the kneeling Charlie. “Why, Charlie, I do not need servants. I only need someone to cater to my every whim.” This was followed by the laugh of a woman realizing her own wit.
Sky lifts her shoulders from the tub in anticipation of Charlie’s touch. She sits upright in the cool air and wraps her arms around her own knees to expose her back. Charlie rests her other knee on the floor and reaches the soapy loufa forward to wash her lover’s lavender scented skin. Bubbles break under the pressure of the sponge as Charlie rotates her wrist in a clockwise motion. Sky’s head rests sideways on her arms. She is enjoying the delicate strokes of the loufa brushing away her worries.
“Why don’t you climb in here with me.”
Charlie stands upright before Sky finishes her invitation and dunks a foot into the water behind her. Sky inches forward to make room for Charlie, and she holds her legs together so that Charlie’s thighs can surround her hips.
Charlie presses her body against Sky’s back, and closes her eyes in appreciation of the feeling. Sky’s slick shoulders are coated in liquid ecstasy. The soap made her skin into a slippery playground. Charlie moves her breasts up and down Sky’s back before capturing the girl’s upper body in her arms. Sky’s grip slips from her knees, and she throws her head back to rest on Charlie’s shoulder. Charlie gazes down upon Sky’s naked chest, heaving against the feeling of Charlie’s body behind her. The loufa is still lathered in soft fragrant silk. Charlie squeezes it between both hands to create a waterfall of white suds to splash down Sky’s body. A stream of tiny bubbles creep down the valley between Sky’s breasts and merge with the fluffy top layer of the water. Sky feels her lover pull at her shoulders, and she reclines into Charlie’s body. Now she can feel Charlie’s hips slide forward to meet the small of her back. Charlie drops the sponge into the abyss to free up her hands. She caresses both of Sky’s breasts with slippery hands before diving under the bubbles between Sky’s legs.
Sky arches and then collapses against Charlie’s finger tips, and whispers, “Mr. Charlie is a smooth operator after all”, with the reflective tone of the night before.
“Sky, I should hope that I am a smooth operator. Otherwise there would be a lot of limping iguanas out there!”
Sky’s laughter bounces off the tiles around the tub, “Is that veterinarian humor? Shut up and scrub me, Dr. Puppy Love.”
Sky pushes the lever down with her toes to let the water out of the tub.
Charlie says, “What, don’t I get any soapy fun time?”
“Not after a bad joke like that. Besides, I promised you a breakfast date, and we’re going to be late getting to your cousin’s house.” Sky lifts her body to the faucet, and rinses the soap from her skin. Then she grabs a green towel from the rack to dry her feet before stepping on the floor.
Charlie finished cleaning up, and washed her hair under the faucet to eliminate all signs of sexual activity. Sky had already disappeared from view, and she was getting dressed in Charlie’s bedroom. She put on a pair of dark blue pants and a black velour top from Charlie’s drawer.
Charlie tiptoes into the bedroom still dripping with water, and she has an angry look on her face. Her hair is tangled in a big moist nest around her ears. Charlie snarls, “You took my towel! I ‘m freezing to death!”
Sky looks at this mess of a woman with half pity and half-uncontrollable laughter before she flings the green towel at her and says, “Please forgive me, but I must say that this is a good look for you!”
Charlie is not amused.
Charlie forgot about how mad she had been by the time she finished dressing. Sky was telling her a story about a man she had seen on the subway the previous week. He was dressed in a plaid business jacket from the nineteen seventies and sweat pants with holes in both knees. Sky said that he was talking into a rolled up piece of paper for over ten minutes until the train reached lower Manhattan. Charlie giggled for a second at the story. She wasn’t laughing at the mental illness of a complete stranger, but at the enthusiasm in which Sky told the story. When Sky was describing a scene it was done with rapid hand movements and imitations of the characters. Charlie thought that the only way to silence her rambling girlfriend would be to tie her hands together. No wait, she had tried that last night and it didn’t work. Perhaps duct tape was the only way. Of course, if Charlie did that she might miss out on some incredible stories. Instead she just listened intently to the sprightly performance artist.
“Sky, are we going to breakfast or not?”
With all of the play from that morning Sky has nearly forgotten that it is Christmas Eve. She also temporarily forgets how Christmas brings with it a crippling depression. Sky had lost her father in a car accident three years ago on Christmas Eve. Granted, her father was driving drunk on the expressway with a bottle of whiskey clutched in his hand, but the loss still plagues her.
Sky had never been close with her father. They were separated at her birth by the sharp blade of alcoholism. He was a nice guy when he wasn’t being a raving lunatic, and Sky’s parents had divorced a year before he died.
After Sky’s father’s demise her mother became a born again Christian who did not warm up to the idea that Sky was a lesbian. Her mother had severed communication with Sky in the last year, and this put a damper on the big holidays like mother’s day, father’s day, and of course Christmas.
Charlie notices the drastic mood change in her girlfriend as they brave the cold air on the way to the diner. “What’s the matter Sky? Are you thinking about your folks?”
“Yeah honey, but don’t worry. I wouldn’t dream of ruining your Christmas. I’m willing to lose myself in some of your Aunt Peggy’s famous Christmas cookies!” Then she shrugs the bad thoughts off of her shoulders with the skill of a magician. “This year I start a new set of traditions with you.”
Sky’s sentence does not include the phrase I love you, but her actions speak loud and clear to Charlie.
Sky does not realize her potential. She sees herself as a simple urging sex object, torn right from the pages of smut that her father had kept under the bathroom sink during her youth. The sway of her hips drove women crazy. The way she walked. The way she looked. She had mastered the flirtatious glare of a streetwalker. A woman raised by wolves and plopped down in the heart of human civilization with no regard. Sky is a poster child for past abuse. Her life has not been easy. She has been tossed around from place to place with no time to set roots. Sky had fallen into the arms of strangers, and predators before she ever fell into the arms of a lover. It felt suspicious to be loved. She had not thought it possible.
Charlie has the capacity to love everyone. Her heart is bigger than her chest can hold. It is big enough to be shared. Sky knows that Charlie would split it in two and place it in Sky’s chest given the opportunity. This giving of life, a baptism.
They have been together for only four months. Charlie has shown Sky love, and Sky has given Charlie the imported exotic spices of sexual desire. Sky has the innards of complication, and the shell of a woman. Tender and young like fresh veal. She is an open wound in need of healing. Charlie offers her the suture of love, but it is dangerous in Sky’s perception. In order to mend severed flesh a needle must be used. The needle heals the cut, but it is still sharp as it tears through flesh. Love is the edge of a medical instrument for Sky. She knows that the bad will bring about good, but she chooses not to seek out the mending powers of love. Love equals weakness in her eyes, and she is not about to be caught with her bleeding heart in her hand.
Everyone and everything that Sky has ever loved has been taken away, and she thinks that her only hope in life is to bat her eyelashes at the right woman. To find herself a sugar mamma. Someone who will take care of her like her parents should have. Someone to teach her all of the things that her caregivers had not.
Sky is the product of a broken home, whatever that means these days. Her mother never taught her how to cook, and her father never played catch with her in the back yard. On the inside Sky is both feminine and masculine. Androgyny is what she likes, but femininity gets her what she wants. She chooses rather to be androgynous, but when it comes to matters of flirtation she is as exaggerated as a drag queen on amphetamines.
Charlie has no gender identity crisis. She is intellectual. That is her sex. Sometimes Sky wonders if Charlie is even present in moments of sexual exploration. She seems to have some sort of attention deficit disorder in the bedroom, as if Charlie is wandering off into the distance without so much as a good bye. Charlie’s thoughts are focused on more tender moments like embracing, kissing, and all of the vulnerable emotions that Sky cannot feel within an arms reach. Sky feels like a heartless shrew in the mirror image of Charlie. This is unsafe for Sky. It is easier to hide behind the shield of playing games, and to be a giver of fantasy. The time for Sky's reservations about Charlie has not passed. Charlie will need to work on this.
Charlie is from a stable home. A nice suburban neighborhood where all the little white kids run with footballs and hockey sticks to play games in the street until a car passes by. This is a cookie cutter, numb and shallow place that screams for liberation. Sky does not believe it for a minute. She has not seen it with her own two eyes. Through the peering and squinting of those eyes it would be difficult to see anything.
Charlie has aunts, uncles, and cousins surrounding her always. She got a new car for her sixteenth birthday, and was permitted to live with her parents until she was twenty-five. Charlie had gone to college on her parent’s money, and purchased security at a discounted rate. She is superior in most respects, or at least in her own mind. A nice Catholic girl, just the kind of person that Sky wished to corrupt since puberty.
Sky and Charlie fit together perfectly. Like two pieces of a puzzle despite their obvious differences. They are opposites in most respects. It is funny in a way. Sky laughs at Charlie because she is a pure woman dressed in men’s clothing, and Charlie laughs at Sky because she is a boy in a dress. To outsiders or plain people on the street it would appear that Charlie is the more masculine of the two, and that Sky is a bubble headed bimbo who wears tight skirts and paints her face every morning. This is a complete and hidden lie. Charlie is the sensitive one, and Sky is a rock. Charlie hides behind black boots, khaki pants, and button down shirts. The only difference between Sky and Charlie is that Sky knows that her outward persona is false, and Charlie lives in her denial.
Every time that Charlie becomes an egomaniac Sky will call her out by referring to her as “Dr. know it all.” Charlie is a challenge for her egotistical nature. Sky is a challenge for her suspicious shifting lack of trust.
How could it be that two people so distant and different could find each other on the streets of New York City? Ironically, when they met it was discovered that they were both from Buffalo.
Charlie is from Amherst and Sky is from the East Side of the city. Amherst is an upscale suburb where doctors and lawyers hang their fedoras, and the East Side is where the dregs of humanity beg for scraps of dignity through poverty and misfortune.
Sky had grown up in modest conditions. No, that is too simple. Sky grew up in traitorous conditions. Her parents were undying and irresponsible hippies. The hippie part was to be expected. Very few wealthy bankers would give a child a name like Sky. Brightly colored tie-dye can be a banner of hope for some, and it can be a blood soaked nightmare for others. It really depends on who is looking at it. Through the eyes of a child trying to watch cartoons through the blaring noise of Led Zeppelin it is a reminder of self worth. Sky had never even been to a house where it was required to remove one’s shoes until she had finished High School.
Sky’s life has been obvious and subtle like ordering a milk shake to go with a sandwich. Never realizing that you are eating pickles with ice cream.
Charlie thinks about their differences, and their similarities on the way to breakfast. She cannot claim to understand Sky’s nature, but she does try to be sensitive to it. Sky will open up to her eventually. She just has to wait. Sky’s voice surfaces in Charlie’s mind from the day before.
“Waiting is what makes life interesting.”
Charlie accepts this as Sky’s truth, and opens the door to the diner for her mysterious companion.
They sit and talk over pancakes and bacon like two excited toddlers trying to drown out the other person’s voice. This relationship has formed into a second childhood of sorts. Charlie is teaching Sky how to express herself in more healthy ways, and Sky is teaching Charlie how cruel the World can be.