Outing of the Heart
Page 82
‘Tell me, Sweetheart, how was it?’ Sid wanted to know. She was sitting in the lowboy with Ten on her lap.
‘Before I get into that, Hon, let me tell you what happened at the end.’ Ten had wrapped her arms about Sid’s shoulders and was now playing with the short hair at the back of her neck. She described Fabrice and her encounter with him, culminating with the revelation that they were all gay.
‘Rani dismissed him, then we had this great talk. Sid, she really is a lovely person. I’m so glad we’ve met them. Next time Fabrice and Serge have a party, she’s going to take us along. They live in Don Mills.’
‘Hey Babe, we can’t just gatecrash.’ Sid didn’t want to deflate Ten’s enthusiasm, but she wasn’t so sure about getting pally with gay guys. ‘Listen, some Gays can be a bit funny with women. You need to get to know them first,’ she advised.
‘Why darling, whatever do you mean? He was really friendly with me. In fact I was quite overwhelmed.’ Ten couldn’t understand her reluctance, but then Sid hadn’t met him.
Sid placed Ten down in the chair while she went to get them a beer. On her return she pulled up a cushion and sat at Ten’s feet, resting her elbow on her knee. ‘I bet he was bowled over by you, my love.’ She picked up her hand and turning it over kissed its soft palm.
“Twice in one day,” Ten thought, “what is this?”
‘But … you are beautiful … and feminine.’ Sid returned the hand to her lap: ‘Guys can pay homage to that, but they don’t feel the same way about dykes.’
‘You’re not a dyke, darling.’
‘No? Well that’s a moot point; semantics perhaps, but I’m not femme and I certainly am butch.’ She said all this quite calmly, merely stating a truth. ‘Now I’m not saying that this Fabrice and Serge wouldn’t be nice to us, in fact I’m sure they’d love you, but for the likes of me it can be a bit more difficult.’
Ten remembered back to a time when she’d wondered about how Sid felt, being out and not trying to masquerade, perhaps now she would tell her.
‘How difficult, Honey?’ It was her turn to clasp Sid’s hand in hers.
‘If the guys are used to being around Lesbians, they take you in their stride, like buddies together. Know what I mean?’ Ten nodded. ‘Some of the older ones, those more part of the establishment, perhaps in socially sensitive jobs, well … they can feel the need to protect their image, so they’re not happy to be seen mixing with other than ultra feminine women. They’ll escort a femme as their date, or whatever, but would rather die than be seen with a butch. Consequently, we number amongst our male friends mostly ‘out’ men, the ones who are brave and don’t give a damn, ready to stand up and be counted, no matter what.’ Sid sighed, as though thinking back down some long corridor of memory.
‘Some of them are just fantastic people. So easy to love, but so hard to lose.’ She sighed again and was silent.
Tentatively Ten asked: ‘Did you know someone special like that?’ Sid looked up, her eyes glistening, small globes of tears attaching to her fair lashes like diamonds. ‘His name was Randall. When we kidded about we called him Randy, of course. He was a lovely man. He would go out of his way to help you and always had time to listen … or, he always made time.’ She smiled in recollection.
‘He was witty too. Even at the end, with his poor body ravaged by infection, he could come up with some observation which was so humorous, it would just crack us up.’ She had given Ten a glass when she brought over the drinks and kept the bottle for herself. Now she took a big swig.
‘I had another friend, Wayne. I met him through Volleyball. He got me involved in the buddy system.’ She looked at Ten again. ‘You know about that?’ She shook her head so she proceeded to elaborate.
Once the AIDS virus began taking its toll in the gay community, people rallied round to give support, especially where family lived elsewhere or didn’t want to get involved. You would take on a hospital inmate and remain with him, faithful to the end. Through thick or thin, no matter what. You were buddies.
‘I see,’ she acknowledged out loud, thinking how wonderful of people to be so dedicated.
‘Now I was never a buddy, but through Wayne, I would pop over to Huntley Street with him after Volleyball.’
‘You lost me. What’s Huntley Street?’
‘Oh sorry. Casey House. It’s a hospice where gays who are advanced, or only HIV+, go for treatment or guidance or actually reside if they can no longer cope at home. Anyway, we used to visit Randall there and I got to know him … and love him. He had come to Toronto from Kapuskasing. His family still lives up there so they couldn’t get down very often. They were quite poor too, I believe. You know how difficult it can be, making a living in northern Ontario. It was very hard on all of us when Randall died.’ She was silent for some time. Ten just waited; when she was ready she would continue.
‘That guy had so many friends. We were all there at the end. His lover read the eulogy, but broke down and couldn’t continue. Wayne took over. I tell you Ten, there wasn’t a dry eye in the parlor. We all miss him. Why is it that it’s the beautiful people who have to be taken from us? Had Randall lived he would have contributed so much to the community.’ She looked down, just staring at her hands, now falling loosely between her knees.
‘Perhaps he has contributed to your lives by his death?’ Ten ventured. Sid looked up. The tears had spilled down onto her cheeks. Ten gently brushed them away with her fingertips.
‘You know, you’re right,’ she realized then paused before continuing. ‘I got to know some really wonderful guys in that time. Another friend of Randall’s had parents who were deaf. Of course he could sign, so he was very active in the gay deaf community. When shows and skits were put on he would gladly interpret for them. He played Volleyball too, as a means of relaxation.’ She paused then gathered herself together again.
‘You see, Ten, I’ve not mixed with the cocktail crowd. They could be way out of my league.’ Sid knew she had rambled on a bit, but hoped Ten could see where she was coming from.
‘Do you ever visit with these friends now?’
Sid shook her head. ‘I’ve kinda lost touch with them. After Randy’s death, Wayne felt burned out so he didn’t take on another Buddy. It really affects you when they go. You get so close; feelings get too tangled.’ By now her voice had dropped so low the sound was only a thread. She rallied. ‘Anyway, shortly after this time I met Karen and once I was involved with her … well, I let other commitments slip.’
Ten understood. Life is full of starts and stops. Her own attested to that. ‘It’s no problem about Serge and Fabrice, Hon. It was just something Rani mentioned in passing. Why don’t you come into the kitchen while I make us supper? I can tell you about my visit to the station while you cut up the squash.’ She looked quizzically at her lover.
‘Me.’ exclaimed Sid in mock indignation. ‘I thought that was your task?’ The mood was lifting and they were happy together.
Ten’s laughter bubbled over. ‘We’re an enlightened couple, right? And I know my rights.’ She wagged her index authoritatively as she got up, no longer using her cane when moving about the apartment, and collected the empty bottle and glass on her way to the kitchen.
It was a cosy evening. Sid was pleased Ten had decided to give news-reading a go and, like her, somewhat taken aback when she realized composing the news broadcast would be stage one. ‘But you can do it Babe. You’ve got the education and the smarts,’ she reassured her. ‘Anyway, if you don’t like it, you can always leave,’ she proclaimed matter of factly.
‘You know me, Sid. If I start something, I don’t like to quit on it, unless circumstances leave me no choice. You know how it was with my dancing. I got really cut up about that.’
‘Now listen, Ten. Your dancing days are not necessarily over. I think you’re being too defeatist over this one. Look how much progress you’re making every day,’ she pointed out rationally.
‘That’s all well and good for you to say,’
she replied, somewhat argumentatively, ‘but I know what it takes to be able to pull off that fast footwork and I just won’t have it, unless I devote all my waking hours to building up the muscles and developing the skill.’ Her cheeks heated from the intensity of her feelings.
Sid said nothing in response, not wanting to make an issue. She took off next week and these last days should be harmonious. ‘OK Babe, I know it’s a sore point. How about we just wait and see?’ She drew her into her arms and gave her a long and loving kiss. Ten melted into her, as their bodies moulded together and the kiss went on and on until they were both drowning in pleasure.
It was time for Sid to get ready for bed, although too soon for Ten. While Sid dropped off, she liked to read, loving this quiet time next to her. The day’s work done and nothing left, but to relax and get sleepy with a good book. Historical biographies were a favorite, but currently she was into ‘The Well of Loneliness’, having been told by Lyndall, who had lent her the novel, that her lesbian awareness was incomplete until she’d read it. After this she was going to move her on to ‘Patience and Sarah’. Did she feel it her responsibility to take this part of her education in hand? She was getting to like Lyndall the more she knew her and was always looking forward to their interactions. An intelligent woman; the encounters were challenging and she depended heavily on her guidance. Fortunately, Lyndall was willing to give it. “Funny, when I first met her at the party, I never expected to get to know her so well,” she ruminated. A firm friendship was being forged.
* * *
When Ten awoke, strong shafts of light were streaming into her eyes from the gap in the new drapes where they didn’t quite meet. An imperious rain was drumming on the roof, while an insistent wind buffeted the tops of the trees. She lay still, somnolent, not yet ready to start the day, but her mind was busy with disturbing thoughts. Only three days left, then the pattern of their lives would be totally disrupted. She was trying to be brave, but was still apprehensive about being alone. Sadness engulfed her like a dense cloud. She’d not minded at Mrs Sandrelli’s, but now was different. Sid had become an integral part of her happiness.
In some way she couldn’t fathom, Sid’s love gave meaning and shape to her life. She was more capable of taking on board new endeavors; more ready to try her hand, strong in the certainty of her loving support, she would always be there to save her.
Her wonderful Sidonie. She wished though, they could wake up together. Every morning she was alone in the bed, Sid having slipped quietly away, not disturbing her. How did she do it, every day, get up at four-thirty, no matter what time she went to bed? Well, she wouldn’t have to do it after Saturday. Then she could start to live normal hours, just like regular people. Unfortunately, she still wouldn’t be waking up with her by her side. She wouldn’t even be going to sleep with her. “Get out of the doldrums,” she advised herself. It was just as well she was going to be involved in other activities – carrying on like this – Sid hadn’t even left yet.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she felt with her toes for her slippers. After a trip to the bathroom she returned to throw on some clothes. The first hint of cold was in the air, a touch of the winter that would not be long in coming. She pulled her soft navy sweater over top of a white polo neck and on the way to the kitchen, turned on the TV. She liked its company and was in time to catch the tail end of Canada AM. The topic under discussion was the prospect of sovereignty for Quebec. People were gearing up to vote in the referendum at the end of October. Monique Simard, vice president of the Partie Quebecois and Lucien Buchard, who had been so instrumental in resurrecting interest in the idea of separating from the Confederation, were being interviewed by Vicki Gabereau. If Quebec obtained its unilateral independence, it still wanted the trade links with Canada to continue. The province would maintain its borders and control its customs, but wanted to keep the Canadian dollar and free trading privileges with Canada. While Ten made coffee and ate muesli, she listened with interest to the various points of view. She thought it would be very upsetting to see the two founding cultures diverge to such an extent. Surely the result would be the slow, but inevitable disintegration of Canada’s national identity? Its bilingualism, she couldn’t speak French herself, (but admired those of non-French background who could), was something which made the country unique. Without these special qualities Canada would be more vulnerable to cultural threats from the US of A. Already such a powerful influence over the country, she felt sure it wouldn’t take long for the American way to become the Canadian way too. A very sad eventuality in that case. As it stood, it appeared the outcome of the referendum was very much in the balance. They would all have to wait and see. As she set about the morning’s tasks, laundry today, she wondered why Quebec felt the need for independence at all? They were already so autonomous with their own newspapers, TV, sports teams, both the Montreal Expos and the Quebec Nordiques. Their religion kept them united and their language protected them from the Americans. Yet, despite all this they must still feel their identity and culture under constant threat, she surmised.
Thursday and Friday, Ten worked the afternoon shift one ’til nine She didn’t like it, but it was the best way to get back, part-time. And she appreciated Phyllis’ willingness to slot her in. Two days per week were better than no days at all. As a result, they didn’t see much of each other those days, but once Sid was at Guelph, she’d be glad of the distraction … and the money. Sid drove her to work, to save her foot, but she made her own way home. It wasn’t fair to make Sid lose sleep when she, herself, could sleep in.
After completing the daily chores around the apartment, Ten felt a little at loose ends. On impulse, she gave Devon a call. For ages now she’d been meaning to get in touch, but somehow something had always gotten in the way. Devon could take calls at the office; working for her dad had its advantages. Her phone was in the kitchen but it had a long lead, so she carried it over to the dining table and propped up her foot.
‘Armstrong, Bousquet and Issner,’ came briskly over the line. Not even a ‘good morning’. Ten guessed Devon’s day had gotten off to a bad start.
‘Devon, it’s me. How are you?’ She waited, not sure of her reception. There was silence as the realization sank in.
‘Tenille …? is that really you?’ She heard the lift in Devon’s voice.
‘I’ve been meaning to phone you. I wanted to give you my new number.’ How hollow this sounded. After all this time, was that all she could come up with?
‘Tenille. It’s lovely to hear from you. How are you? How’s the leg? Still in a cast?’ Devon was eager with her questions.
‘The leg’s coming along fine. The cast is off and I’m walking much better. How’re things with you, still dancing?’ This was what Ten most urgently wanted to know. Now she was talking to Devon again, her mind had gone straight back to her dancing days.
‘Actually … no. There was a bit of a falling out between Raoul and me so after the tour we had our parting of the ways.’ Her voice had dropped and Ten could tell she regretted this turn of events.
‘Oh Dev, what a pity. You haven’t given up altogether, have you?’ She realized that it had been very important to her, the thought that Devon was still involved; that she might – just might, get back into it, through her. Now Devon wasn’t dancing she felt let down.
‘Well … shall we say, ‘temporarily on hold’. When I got back, Belen had gone into summer recess, so I didn’t see any of the old gang. I’m sure she’s probably started up by now, but I’ve not gotten my act together. Truth to tell, I’m not sure at the moment if I want to get heavy into it again. You know how it takes over your whole life.’
‘Yes it does that if you take on performance.’ Ten agreed. ‘What about just for fun?’ She wasn’t ready to throw in the towel yet.
‘I know. But when you’ve experienced the bright lights, it’s hard to go backstage. Know what I mean?’ Ten could hear the resignation settling at the other end of the line.
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br /> ‘So what have you been up to these days?’ she knew she wouldn’t be idle. Not her style.
‘Nothing much,’ came the reply which took her by surprise.
‘Hard to believe, Dev.’
‘Well, I met someone and he’s pretty much taking up all my energies. Nothing left over for independent pursuits.’
‘Ah, now I understand. A man in the picture makes all the difference.’ Ten liked this. Devon, romantically involved meant they could remain friends and her being with Sid wouldn’t be a problem.
‘Pretty serious, eh?’ she ventured, not wanting to appear to be prying , but intrigued all the same.
‘Oh Tenille, he’s the one for me. You know how I could never make up my mind? He’s changed all that.’ Devon sounded very committed. It was good to hear the excitement in her voice instead of that constant fractiousness of old. She heard some commotion in the background and guessed she would be needed.
‘Listen Dev, I’ll let you go, but give me a call when you can. Here’s my number.’ She rattled it off then continued: ‘I work evenings except Monday and Wednesday, OK? Perhaps we can get together some time?’
‘Cool,’ Devon enthused. ‘Yes, I have to go now but I’ll be back in touch. Thanks for calling.’
* * *
Sid got home between twelve and one, depending on the traffic, but it usually wasn’t too heavy at that time of day. Ten was lucky, if she were a little late Phyllis didn’t mind too much, understanding the value of a ride. Now Sid was getting to know the others quite well. They liked her, but she never stayed long, not wanting to be a disrupting influence.
As usual, when Sid drove up it was a bit of a scurry, collecting last minute things, so they only had time for a quick embrace, then they’d be on their way. The two would exchange news on the drive, but for some reason, Ten didn’t have time to work out, she didn’t tell Sid about her phone call. Perhaps it was just an uneasy feeling, knowing Devon was not one of her favorite people.