“I’ll go,” Angel said, taking the flashlight and brandishing her can of pepper spray.
“What’s that?”
“Dog spray.”
“I don’t think it’s a dog,” Kim said.
“I know. But animals are animals. I’ll be right back,” Angel said, slowly unzipping the tent.
She flashed the light. Something large caught the light. All Angel saw was the flash of its eyes and then a quick retreat as it stumbled over the cooler. Angel stopped in her tracks and flashed the light around. Whatever it was took off. Angel collected the contents of the cooler and then put it in the back of the Jeep.
“Are you all right?” Kim said, poking her head tentatively out of the tent.
“Yes.”
“What was it?”
“Something big, like a dog, kind of looked like a potbelly pig,” Angel said, suddenly remembering Arvis the potbelly pig on her route and feeling less frightened. She liked Arvis.
“Oh, my God, it must have been a javelina,” Kim said, getting out of the tent.
“What’s a javelina?” Angel asked.
“It’s a wild boar,” Kim said, taking a good look around. The moon was full and gave the forest an eerie glow.
“Oh, my. Are they fierce?” Angel asked.
“I don’t know,” Kim said, moving closer to the tent.
“I think it was just looking for a midnight snack,” Angel said, pushing the lid down tight on the cooler and then snapping the canvas top tight on the back of the Jeep.
“Well, maybe now that the food is out of the way, he or she won’t be back,” Kim said, tying the trash bag up in the tree.
“Let’s hope so,” Angel said, flashing the light around. She took the lid of a pot and picked up a piece of kindling. She played the little drummer boy.
“They probably don’t like loud noises,” Kim said, trying to reassure them both.
“I’m sure not,” Angel said, coming over to give Kim a hug.
“Back to bed,” Kim said.
“Yes.”
They rolled into each other’s arms and hoped for a quiet evening.
In the morning, Angel slipped out of the tent to go pee and hoped their uninvited guest from last night had found other distractions. The campsite was quiet and the sun was just starting to rise. Angel stretched and tried to get the kinks out of her back and neck. She crawled back in the tent so she could gaze at Kim and imagine what it would be like to wake up to her every morning. She thought back to the night they first kissed. Love, she decided, brought out the best in people.
After dinner, Angel drove Kim up to the Mountain Preserve for a dance, telling Kim that when she discovered this place—a concrete slab at the base of the mountains meant to be a picnic area—only it must have been forgotten as only the slab remained, she thought it would make a wonderful dance floor. At the time she never thought she would find a dancing partner. But that night they had danced beneath the moon and stars, no longer obscured by the city glare, and they kissed. And it was a perfect kiss, as if their tongues and lips had touched a thousand times before, and Angel knew then that she had found the right partner.
Kim woke up and pulled Angel toward her. Angel smiled.
“I was just thinking about you,” Angel said.
“What were you thinking?” Kim asked.
“About the night we went dancing,” Angel said.
“I liked that night,” Kim said, starting to get up. Her bladder was calling. She bent to kiss Angel. Something caught the corner of her eye.
“What’s for breakfast?” Angel asked, nibbling at Kim’s chin.
“I think it might be javelina,” Kim said, staring into the pink eyes of a large pig.
“What!” Angel said, rolling over. Involuntarily she screamed. The javelina went running and Kim nearly peed her pants laughing.
“For a tomboy, you sure have a funny high pitched little scream,” Kim said.
Angel grimaced. “It was effective wasn’t it?”
“I’ll say,” Kim said, getting up. “The poor thing is probably in the next county by now.”
“I certainly hope so.”
“Do you still like camping?” Kim asked, kissing Angel’s neck.
“Yes, but I’m not that fond of the neighbors.”
“Wait until we see the ruins. You’ll forget about them and fall in love with the neighborhood,” Kim said, running her hand up Angel’s shirt and finding her nipple. She traced its outline and watched Angel’s face to see if it was all right. Angel smiled and pulled Kim on top of her. Kim took her shirt off. Angel touched her breasts and ran her hands down Kim’s slim waist, making her quiver.
Angel turned the Coleman stove on with the flair of a seasoned professional and thought maybe there was something to this facing one’s fears thing. It gave her a charge and she liked that. Suddenly, she was the tightly clad mercenary in her own emotional landscape, just like Mallory had explained to her the other day as they went for a walk. The dark woman in an eerie white landscape looking for elusive emotions that created knots in your life, that kept you from doing the things that make you a larger person, a well balanced being, that could get you off the Ferris wheel once and for all.
There are no better people to be therapists than psychiatric patients, Angel had decided after two weeks of physical therapy with Mallory. Her foot got better and Angel was starting to feel a lot lighter. It was time to let go and start over. But those brave words were so difficult to achieve. She didn’t want to hang on to all that stuff with Jennifer, but being in love again seemed to dredge up old lovers and one in particular.
Telling Mallory old stories was serving as process, saying it out loud made life back then seem more comical and less dangerous. Mallory made her laugh and in the process was healing her. Angel was certain she was doing the same for Mallory. They were the wounded caring for the maimed.
Kim kissed her neck and handed her the coffee. She didn’t really know where Angel had been traveling but it must have been nice judging from the look on her face.
“Welcome back to Planet Earth. We hoped your journey was a pleasant one,” Kim teased.
“Why thank you,” Angel replied.
“I’m having a really good time. I don’t get those often,” Kim said.
“Me either, I’m glad it was with you.”
“Could this be an epiphany of fun?”
“I’d like to think so,” Angel said, thinking that Kim was going to do nice things for her comic strip in terms of verbal repartee.
Taylor Combs sat across from her father as they discussed future business strategy. She had gone to six years of college and through a lot of women to be sitting here contemplating the rest of her life. She was trying to pay attention to the conversation but wondering at the same time what Alex was doing right now. Ever since they had dinner, Taylor had begun noticing things about Alex in particular. Before she was interested, today she was contemplating acts of embarrassing degrees none of which she could honestly entertain.
“Mr. Combs, I’d like to ask you a personal question,” Taylor said, addressing her father, the senior partner of the firm.
“Yes,” Dallas Combs replied.
“Dad, why do you have so many gay and lesbian people working for you? In fact, I’m almost certain you are the only straight person on these premises,” Taylor replied.
Her father brought his finger to his lips. “Shhh, you’ll blow my cover.”
“What?”
“They all think I’m an old queen. I never told them your mother’s name. I just always called her my partner.”
“You’re passing as queer?” Taylor said.
“Well, kind of.”
“Why?”
“You’re going to run this firm some day and I wanted you to be comfortable. So, when the old employees from Grandpa’s time started to retire I simply replaced them with family. And it’s worked out great ever since. We’re talking better than ever before. Your lot is an overachiev
ing bunch. And the stink over domestic partnership benefits is entirely incorrect. The firm only has to insure one partner without children thus no maternity leave, and less sick time, it’s simply amazing. The firm’s numbers have never looked better. I’m sold,” Dallas Combs said, smiling benevolently at his daughter.
“Exactly how did you find all these gay and lesbians,” Taylor asked.
“I placed an ads in all the gay and lesbian papers and then I recruited from within.”
“What about this passing thing?”
“I started out by always referring to your mother, God rest her soul, as my partner. Then I watched The Birdcage several times until I got the moves right. Haven’t you seen me do my fag act? It’s a beautiful thing,” Dallas said, getting up and doing a little strut and then an elaborate hand gesture.
“See, it’s easy to be an old queen,” Dallas said, as Alex walked into the room.
Taylor blushed.
“I’m sorry I’m late. MacAllister was on the phone,” Alex said, taking a seat.
“Quite all right. Dad was just giving me lessons on how to be a queen,” Taylor said.
“I see,” Alex said, trying not to look at Dallas, who was watching her acutely.
Dallas would never tell his daughter that he hired Alex because she would be the perfect mate for Taylor. He remembered the day he introduced Taylor to Alex and how both of them had pretended not to notice the other. But he had seen how they looked at each other and he knew he’d figured right. He kept harping on Taylor to be more assertive and Taylor kept telling him to mind his own business.
One day, Dallas knew, they would figure out that they were perfect for each other, just like he had the first time he met Helda. Taylor told him that Alex had a girlfriend and she didn’t want to compromise either one of their integrity’s. Dallas reminded her that Helda was on the verge of getting married when he met her and they fell in love. “I know, I know but Dad . . .” “Don’t but Dad me, do something. You can be friends at least, get to know one another. And then we’ll hire someone to bump off her girlfriend,” Taylor replied. “Not exactly, but things have a way of working themselves out,” her father had advised.
After the meeting, Taylor said, “So what’s for lunch?” hoping she could once again convince Alex to have lunch. She remembered being surprised that Alex didn’t go for lunch. “I don’t like to eat alone.” “Then eat with me” Taylor suggested.
“There’s a new bistro that just opened up down the street,” Alex replied, trying not to wonder why she found herself shopping around for new places to have lunch. She was becoming fond of lunch.
Every day Alex became more relaxed in Taylor’s company as they slowly discovered that they had a lot in common. They made fast friends, although some of the energy between them was definitely sexual. Alex was always acutely aware whenever she was close to Taylor, and she had caught Taylor looking at her in that way. Taylor was always respectful of her relationship with Gigi, which served as a pleasantly refreshing attitude considering how everyone else they knew either ignored the perimeter or saw it as a tantalizing line to be crossed if given the chance. Taylor treated it like a fortress complete with a moat.
“Anything big and exciting happening this weekend?” Taylor asked as she smothered her pastrami and rye sandwich with a horseradish condiment.
Alex tried not to wince at the sight of so much horseradish in such a small amount of territory.
“No, it’s Gigi’s weekend with the activists,” Alex said, doctoring her ice tea with sugar. Sometimes she wondered why she automatically ordered ice tea when she didn’t really like it. Habit, she supposed. It seemed she did a lot of things out of habit except having lunch with Taylor, which for all practical purposes was completely spontaneous. Even living with Gigi was more habit than desire these days. She could see that in both their eyes sometimes. Although lately, Gigi was making more of an effort to be around and to spend time that had the look of quality to it.
“The activists?” Taylor asked.
“I haven’t told you about them. They are Gigi’s aunts and friends. They have an agenda against the Patriarchy in general, social mores in particular and a running family feud over sexual orientation and certain religious beliefs.”
“Wow, that’s a mouthful. You’re not one of the activists?”
“No, Gigi doesn’t like to mix the personal with the political. She has serious boundary issues and keeps most things separate.”
“She must be quite the woman,” Taylor replied, feeling suddenly ordinary and mundane.
“Not really, she’s more like a giant pain in the ass that I still can’t begin to fathom,” Alex said, before she could stop herself.
Taylor laughed.
“I can’t believe I just said that. What I mean is that she is really intense, hard to read, has mood swings like a pendulum and she makes me really tired sometimes,” Alex said.
“So it’s your weekend off then?” Taylor asked, trying to steer the conversation away from Gigi. She didn’t want Alex to think she would harbor any ill will toward Gigi and it seemed not talking about her was best.
“It is.”
“Do you golf?” Taylor asked, hoping she might steal a couple hours of Alex’s time away from work.
“I used to. But Gigi isn’t exactly your golfing type.”
“I love to golf but I haven’t found a partner as of yet. Maybe we could go when you’ve got some free time.”
“Like this weekend maybe,” Alex teased.
“Well, yes,” Taylor said, straightening up her discarded horseradish packets. Alex reached over and stopped her.
“Taylor, I want us to be friends. We like to do the same things and we can do them together without having to feel weird. Gigi has her own life. It’s high time I have one as well.”
“I don’t want to cause strife,” Taylor said, feeling certain her flesh was on fire as Alex still held her hand.
“You won’t, because you would never do anything unethical,” Alex said, removing her hand and marveling at her candor.
“Do you still have clubs?” Taylor asked.
“I’ll dust them off tonight,” Alex replied, picking up the check. Taylor started to protest but Alex gave her the look. They took turns paying. It was Alex’s turn.
“You know one day I want you to tell me how it is that you don’t have a girlfriend,” Alex said.
“With eighteen holes ahead of us, I’ll weave the whole yarn for you.”
“I’m holding you to it.”
“I can’t wait.”
Mallory kissed Del goodbye as Gigi rolled her eyes and waited patiently in the truck. Gigi was going through the CD collection to find something uplifting for the drive. She briefly contemplated Nine Inch Nails so she could crank up the song “I want to fuck you like an animal” just to serve as a metaphor for Mallory and Del.
“Gigi, you never thanked Del for driving me the other night,” Mallory said.
“Yes, well, thank you Del for driving Mallory to post bail. What are friends for,” Gigi replied, finding the song and turning it up.
Mallory blushed and hugged Del goodbye, giving Gigi a stern look over her shoulder.
“I’ll call you later,” Mallory said.
“I miss you already,” Del said, starting to feel like a football widow.
As soon as Gigi pulled out onto the freeway she broke the silence, and Mallory’s blissful meditation on the beauty of the Arizona desert on a fine October day came to a screeching halt.
“So have you two done it yet?” Gigi asked.
“That is a rude thing to ask,” Mallory replied.
“One not dignified with a response. It makes you look guilty,” Gigi said, reaching over and pinching Mallory’s inner thigh.
“I hate when you do that.”
“Which is why I do it,” Gigi replied.
“We haven’t had time.”
“What a crock of shit!”
“Bugger off,” Mallory said, lo
oking out the window and thinking again.
The ride to Yarnell was quiet until they hit Wickenburg. Gigi looked over at Mallory and suffered a pang of guilt.
“I’m sorry about what I said,” Gigi offered.
Mallory turned to Gigi with an almost bored look on her face.
“I didn’t give it a second thought,” Mallory replied.
“I thought you were mad,” Gigi replied, indignant.
“No, I’ve learned to expect that kind of behavior from you.”
“Why?”
“Because I consider you crude and insensitive,” Mallory replied, pining over an antique shop they passed that she knew Gigi would never take her to. She wondered if Del would.
“I am?”
“Yes,” Mallory replied.
“If you weren’t mad then what were you doing all this time?”
“Daydreaming.”
“About what?”
“Making love with Del.”
Gigi pinched her again.
“What was that for?” Mallory asked, rubbing the sore spot.
“For not spending quality time with me. What am I, some minor distraction in the otherwise glorious ramblings of your imagination?”
“What is wrong with you? I used to spend most of my time in the Republic and you knew that.”
“That was different. You used to share those stories with me.”
“You’re saying I’m not sharing Del stories.”
“I don’t necessarily want Del stories. I know those are private but I feel like I’m losing you,” Gigi said, feeling her eyes getting moist. She was thankful for her sunglasses.
Mallory took her hand. “You’re not losing me. I’m just not as accessible which doesn’t mean I love you any less.”
“I know. I shouldn’t be so needy but you having a girlfriend is really a new experience for me.”
“I’ll be patient,” Mallory teased.
“I knew I could count on you. And I guess I still get some of your weekends.”
“That’s right.”
When they pulled into the Yarnell Grange Hall the place was already buzzing with activity. The perfunctory bake sale was going on to cover up the real meeting. Mallory barely had time to snag a piece of strudel before they were ushered into the back room of the grange hall. Aunt Lil immediately called the meeting to order and Fran put Mallory and Gigi up front as they were the reason behind the emergency meeting. Mallory sat munching her strudel, hoping she was going to get to finish before the inquisition started. It was unique and unusual punishment to be this close to such good food and not get to sample.
Saxon Bennett - Talk of the Town Page 15
