Authors: Colleen Little
I should have known better, though. Short of me up and choosing to murder someone, my mother was never going to judge me. And even if I did end up killing someone, Mom would find out my reasoning before she decided I was in the wrong.
“Baby bear, have you been beating yourself up over this? You have to stop that now. If you are gay, so be it. You will still be you, I will still be me and when it becomes time for you to think about giving me some grandchildren we will just find you the nicest sperm bank around.” I had to laugh at that and I felt the stress draining away. Mom would help me figure it out and once I did, it wouldn’t change how she felt. Everything was going to be fine.
We talked for over an hour. Mom asked if I had ever had feelings for a woman before. I told her what I’d worked out so far, that I hadn’t had any specific attractions but that I had always looked more at women than I had at men. I told her about Joseph and how his kisses hadn’t moved me and about that disastrous last date where I had panicked from the touch of his hand.
By the end of the conversation, I’d had enough sympathy and understanding to completely do away with the panic and we had come up with a plan. I was going to take a few days to get used to the idea. Then this weekend I was going to try to go out to a bar where I could look at the women around me with an open mind and see how I felt about things. The Monday after that started spring break, and I was heading home where Mom and I could catch up and shop and generally figure out things. A face-to-face visit with her would let me bounce ideas off of her until I really knew my own mind.
By Friday night I was ready to go out. I’d managed to confide in my two best living college friends. They were in full support and had decided that they were going to go with me. Jess had suggested that we go to “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” which was a local gay club. Her thinking was that the situation would at least be easier if I knew that any girl I talked to was at least there looking for other girls, so I didn’t spend all night accidentally talking to straight girls.
I was nervous but I thought I looked nice. I rarely wore anything other than jeans, but I had picked my nicest dark-blue pair. My shirt was royal blue and covered in sequins so that it sparkled whenever I moved. It had cap sleeves and a bow on the shoulder. I’d paired all this with a pair of black suede platform pumps with a wedge heel. I’d put on makeup for once, though it was just eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss. I was as ready as I was going to get.
Jess was wearing a short fire-engine red dress, five inch stilettos and some of the reddest lipstick I had ever seen. When I raised my eyebrow at her, she just shrugged. “What? I like being checked out, whether it is by cute boys or cute girls.” I just shook my head and laughed. Jess wasn’t gay or even bi (which was another term I had had explained to me by a grinning Nilda) but she loved attention.
Our friend Jen wasn’t dressed any different than usual. She had on a green Lucky Charms tee shirt and jeans that had a hole in the knee. Her shoes were the same Converse she always wore and she had just scooped her hair into the same ponytail as usual. I didn’t think anything of it, but Jess looked her over and raised an eyebrow. Now it was Jen’s turn to get defensive. “What? We are going there to find Tas a date, not me.”
The J’s (as I had always called them) had called me Tas since the first day I met them. We had met my very first day of college when we all simultaneously reached for the last English 101 book at the same time. We had surveyed each other for a moment with all three of our hands clenched around the spine of the textbook. Jess was the first one to laugh. “It’s just a book,” she said, with her eyes sparkling. “I’d rather not even take this class.” Jen shook her head. “We’ve already had this discussion.” Jess rolled her eyes and laughed again but I finally asked, “What discussion?” We had all let go of the book by then.
They introduced themselves as Jen and Jess and told me they were roommates. I immediately dubbed them the J’s because they seemed like two parts of the same whole. Jess was girly and bubbly. Jen considered a pair of jeans with no holes in them dressed up and had a very dry sense of humor. We were all just really getting to know each other when a small weasel of a boy darted around us and snatched the last book.
Without thinking I whirled and slapped it out of his hand. It hit the floor with a bang and the boy stared at me openmouthed. I shook my finger in his face and chewed him out. After I had finished yelling, the boy marched meekly back over to The J’s (I was already calling them the J’s in my head by that point). He gave a polite apology and then vanished into the shelves of books. Jess was bent almost double, laughing her ass off. When I walked the couple of steps back over to where they were standing Jen was grinning and shaking her head.
“You looked like a Tasmanian devil. Hands flying any which way and your feet tapping, that poor boy was too afraid of you not to come apologize.” I blushed and shook my head. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” Jess rolled her eyes, “Right, Tas. It was just as bad as that and worse.” And just like that, from now on, I was Tas and they were the J’s.
We left and headed to the club. The closer we got, the more nervous I got. By the time we lined up outside to have our IDs checked my hands were cold and slightly shaky. Jess noticed and took pity on me. As soon as we got inside she whisked us towards the back of the club and sat Jen and I at a small round table near the wall. She then zipped back up front to where the bar was and returned shortly with drinks for everyone. We weren’t old enough to drink but virgin drinks were good and gave me something to do with my hands.
After a few minutes I began to relax. It was ladies night and there were women dancing in pairs on the dance floor or talking at tables and the bar. No one looked any different than I did sitting with my friends, and I realized that somehow I had thought there would be something different to see. I shook my head a little and laughed at myself in my head. I didn’t really know what I had been expecting but this wasn’t it.
A pretty blond girl in a low-cut blue shirt came up and asked Jess if she wanted to dance. Jess agreed and left with her with her eyes sparkling with the fun of it all. She loved to dance and she loved attention, so she went with her immediately. Of course, as she flashed me a smile and a thumbs up back over her shoulder as she headed towards the dance floor, it occurred to me that maybe she also did it so that I would be brave enough to try it if someone asked me.
And sure enough, as Jen and I were sitting together at the table, talking and watching Jess dance, another girl approached us. She was really pretty, with long dark hair that hung low enough to brush against her bare shoulders. She was wearing an emerald green corset that was trailed all over by black velvet vines and roses with a short pleated black skirt.
Jen and I both looked at her and smiled tentatively. She smiled back, though it wasn’t tentative at all. She was beautiful and confident. “I hope I’m not intruding,” she said, flashing us a brilliant smile, “but I was wondering something. If you two aren’t together, I was wondering if you might like to dance.”
I checked twice to make sure she was talking to me. She was. I flashed a look at Jen who looked helplessly back at me and shrugged. Then I remembered Jess’ thumbs-up as she headed off to dance. I could do this. I accepted and we headed off to the dance floor. Jess waved at me from a couple yards away, where she was gyrating enthusiastically with the girl who had originally asked her to dance. She had two other girls with her also and looked like she was having a blast.
My new friend’s name was Liz Beth though she told me everyone called her Liz. We ended up dancing three songs before I needed to go sit back down and get something to drink but by that time I wasn’t nervous anymore. We talked casually about nothing and everything and after I had cooled down, we headed back out and danced some more.
It was Jen tapping me on the shoulder and pointing to her watch that made me realize that it was 1 a.m. I was planning to leave to head back home for my visit in a few hours. I told Liz that we needed to go and she and I exchanged numbers. I was tired but cheerful on our walk home and when Jen asked me if I had figured out the answer to my question I just said, “I’m not sure yet,” and didn’t let myself worry about it. I’d see Mom later today and we would figure it out.
About six hours later I was in my little car, driving towards home. It was a beautiful day and I was in a good mood. I’d let myself dress up as much as I ever did and was wearing a knee length black skirt made of soft stretchy cotton that had a fold-over top. A bright blue tee shirt with a chiffon flower at the shoulder and black flip flops with blue sparkles on the straps completed the outfit. I felt pretty and light-hearted and young.
I was riding with the windows down and my hair was swishing wildly in the wind as I drove and sang at the top of my lungs. I couldn’t wait to be home. Mom would have sugar cookies made, since they were my favorite, and later we would eat dinner together and then sit and talk and talk and talk. I was so excited that when I pulled my little car into the driveway at home, I bounced out of the car and practically ran for the door.
I was so disappointed when the door knob was locked that I felt like I would cry. Mom only locked the door if she was going to be gone so the knob’s failure to move meant that I was still going to have to wait for my talk. I went back to the car and grabbed my overnight bag before letting myself into the house. It was quiet, dark, and cool inside with the strange, soft echoes that only occur in an empty house. I took the bag up to my room and dropped it off before heading to the kitchen. That was always where Mom left notes for me when she needed to.
Sure enough, there it was on the counter, held down by a large plate of sugar cookies. It said simply that a coven member had had a family emergency and needed her help. She was gone for a few hours but would be back in time for a late dinner. She had left lunch in the refrigerator and hoped that I would enjoy the cookies.
Since there was no one to see me, I pouted a little as I warmed up the lasagna and garlic bread that I found in the refrigerator. By the time I had finished I was mostly cheered up. After all, my good chat with Mom wasn’t canceled, just delayed, and it was hard to be truly grumpy with a belly full of homemade lasagna.
I washed my plate and went upstairs to brush my teeth. Then I stood in my room and thought. I had several choices. I had brought my laptop and my books and could use this time responsibly to work on homework, though that didn’t seem like a very palatable choice. I could take my novel that I had brought with me and spend some time sitting under my favorite tree in the yard reading, which seemed like more fun but still not quite what I wanted to do. The third choice came to me finally as I stood staring out the window. I could go down to the woods and have a nice talk with Leotie.
I smiled to myself. The last three times I had been home I hadn’t been able to find Leotie at all. I was starting to worry that she had gone on and that I wouldn’t see her anymore. I thought maybe I’d have better luck today. With that optimistic thought, I changed my shoes to something a little more suited to walking outdoors and headed out.
It was a truly beautiful late spring day. The sky was a pure blue and there was a slight breeze. Every mild gust brought a different combination of scents. Lilacs and lilies one moment, the next fresh grass and newly turned earth. The sun was warm and inviting and I spent several minutes standing on the hill behind the house with my arms outstretched and my face upturned just communing with the earth and letting it know I was home.
As I stepped lightly down the railroad tracks towards the pond where I usually found Leotie, I noticed several groups of daffodils nodding their heads along the edges of the rails. I did something I usually didn’t do and stooped to pick two of them. “A gift for my friend,” I whispered. When I stood back up I noticed the tall, slender female spirit who wandered the tracks watching me from a little farther down the way. Though I was usually far too shy to acknowledge her in any way, this time I respectfully inclined my head in greeting. She raised a slim white hand in response as I turned off the tracks and made my way down the embankment to where I hoped to find Leotie.
I walked softly into the clearing where the pond was and almost shivered in the slight chill from the shade. It was almost completely silent, which was unusual, and had a slightly oppressive air, which I had never felt in this place before. It no longer seemed the welcoming spot that had always been my favorite place to sit and dream.
Leotie was nowhere to be seen. I walked the border of the pond several times and softly called her name, but she never came. Once, when I was about 15, Leotie had taken me to where her resting place was. It was about a mile from the pond and though I had only gone the one time, I still remembered how to get there. I passed behind the willow tree and went deeper into the woods with a purpose. If my friend was still here anywhere, I would be able to call her if I stood at her grave. It was one of my particular gifts.
It took me less than half an hour to get to the spot that Leotie had shown me. It had once been part of her village. A horrible sickness had fallen (Leotie’s words). Those who were healthy and had no family members who needed care had fled, going early to their fall camp. Leotie and her family had stayed. Her baby brother and tiny sister were sick. When she had described their symptoms to me I had recognized the mumps. By the time her baby brother died, Leotie was sick too.
You could still faintly see the outline of the foundation from Leotie’s home, though if she hadn’t told me what it was, all I would have seen was a randomly shaped pile of rocks covered in moss. The large rough stone that covered the grave of Leotie’s baby brother was 10 yards behind the back corner of the house. It had been the best that her father could manage, since he had already been sick by the time he started working on graves. Leotie had died second in her family, so she rested next to her only brother. “I always thought of it as me being able to hold his hand on our trip into the afterlife,” she had told me once.