by Scotty Cade
Garner stood and shoved his phone into his pocket just as the last remnants of the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving behind only hues of orange and yellow filling the western sky. He stared at the colorful display for a few minutes, downed the last of his wine, and took the empty glass down below. He checked himself in the mirror one last time. “As good as it’s gonna get,” he whispered to himself before grabbing his keys and heading topside again to begin his first night in Key West.
As he walked along the dock, Garner recognized a new bounce in his step and realized he was looking forward to being with people again. Being on the water alone had been one of the best mind-clearing practices he’d ever experienced, and this particular leg of his trip had given him plenty of time to reflect on Hank and Thompson and the part he’d played in helping them. But as a psychiatrist, he also knew how important human contact was to the spirit. Mr. Clean’s bizarre mug popped back into his mind again, and he chuckled. Well, some human contact, that is.
Shaking his head to scatter the image of shaved heads, tattoos, and piercings, he tried to focus on what he wanted for dinner. “A real dinner?” he said to himself, feeling excited about his evening.
After a few blocks, Garner turned onto Duval Street. The heart of Key West was buzzing with activity, and he didn’t know where to look. Standing in the middle of the street, he almost felt like he was in a mini Times Square. Bright lights filled the early evening, and the sounds of the city mixed with music; cheerful voices and laughter were alive and bursting with anticipation.
Glancing up and down the crowded thoroughfare, trying to determine where to go, Garner was mesmerized by the sights. There were tanned, muscular, half-naked men in every direction, some paired off and holding hands while others were obviously cruising the crowds, looking for, well, whatever they were looking for.
Garner chuckled. It had been a very long time since he’d been to Castro Street in San Francisco, where this sort of thing was expected, but this was Florida for God’s sake, the home of retired grandparents.
As he stood on the street taking it all in, his voyeurism was abruptly interrupted by a loud noise much like the honking sound one would identify with a kid’s birthday party clown. When he turned, he realized his initial summation wasn’t very fair off. He instinctively jumped back just in time as a very large drag queen in full regalia flew by on a bicycle, honking a horn and shoving a flyer in his face. He accepted the flyer rather than get run over and read an advertisement for a drag show later that evening at The Crystal Room Cabaret in a place called La Te Da. He smiled, folded the flyer, and stuck it in his pocket.
Deciding it was definitely time to move on, Garner surveyed Duval Street in each direction, and after careful consideration, chose the direction with the most activity. He weaved into the oncoming foot traffic and matched the pace of the other lollygaggers. Suddenly, he felt like a kid in a candy store. Being… well… Garner, the reaction took him totally by surprise, but instead of analyzing it as he normally would, he just went with it. Before very long he felt energized, and the previously identified bounce in his step was even more pronounced. His boat shoes almost floated above the concrete. There was something interesting to see in every direction, and he reveled in the sights. After ten or so blocks, he absentmindedly reached up and rubbed the back of his sore neck. The perpetual smile on his face broadened as he realized he’d been moving his head from side to side for so long, afraid to miss anything, he’d totally given himself a crick.
Once again folding into the ever-moving crowd and feeling comfortable with the rhythm of the night, Garner casually strolled along the crowded sidewalk. He soaked up the informality of his temporary new home, slowing every now and then to take in the beauty or bizarreness of a piece of art in a gallery window, and then he’d once more pick up his pace until something else caught his eye.
About an hour into his leisurely stroll, Garner’s stomach not so subtly made itself heard and began to protest the lack of attention. He quickly shifted his focus and began to search for cafés and restaurants that caught his eye, stopping to check out the menus posted proudly on the busy sidewalk. He eventually settled on a little restaurant called Square One, suddenly hungry for herb-roasted chicken and good ole home-style mashed potatoes.
Garner stepped inside and looked around. He noted the place was very crowded but still had an intimate feel, and so far, he was very happy with his selection. He slipped the handsome host a twenty and asked for a small table tucked away in the corner with a view of the dining room and smiled appreciatively when he got exactly that.
After ordering a glass of wine, a salad, and the roasted chicken that had prompted his patronage as well as set his mouth watering, he sat back and simply watched. The romantic restaurant was filled with couples holding hands and cooing, some straight, some gay or lesbian, but everyone obviously feeling very comfortable with their public displays of affection. Garner thought about how far society had come in just his lifetime and realized that in some small way, his generation had helped to carve out a better life for today’s gay youth. He took a small bit of satisfaction in that.
With more than half of his journey on the water behind him, Garner was more relaxed than he’d been in a very long time. But again, instead of analyzing it, he went with the totally foreign feeling and smiled when he suddenly thought about his friends back in New York. “Uptight” was the word they most frequently used when asked to describe his personality. But right here, right now, uptight couldn’t have been further from the truth. He suddenly thought about the rainbow sticker his best friend Greg had adhered to his boat the day he left New York. When he’d found it, he’d known exactly who’d put it there, and he’d called Greg and given him a shitload of grief. The only response he’d received was “If you’re going to cruise your uptight ass around God knows where, at least people need to know you’re gay. How else are you gonna get laid?”
The sticker hadn’t exactly gotten him laid yet, but it had had its benefits. It had been the way Hank identified him as gay when he’d come to tow Garner’s boat to a marina for repairs, which in turn had put him right in the middle of an emotional love triangle with Hank and Thompson that had tested his libido, not to mention his skills as a psychiatrist. But in the end, it had all worked out the way it was supposed to, as do most things, and while it hadn’t gotten him laid per se, it had brought Hank and Thompson together. So in the end, he guessed Greg was right.
In the next few minutes, his dinner came and was well worth the wait. Best roasted chicken he’d ever had, and he savored it to the last bite. After one more glass of wine and a few bites of Key Lime Pie, he paid the check and ventured out once again onto Duval Street.
He looked at his watch and saw it was nearing nine thirty. He pulled out the piece of paper he’d shoved in his pocket and read the details about the show in The Crystal Room Cabaret at La Te Da. The flyer read, “Join us at the Crystal Room Cabaret at La Te Da, featuring John Webster and the many faces of the Crystal Room. And tonight only, direct from Provincetown, our Special Guest, none other than the Divine Miss Richfield.”
“What else do I have to do?” he said under his breath, checking the address and starting out for the club. “What the hell, it sounds like fun.”
When he reached his destination, he almost wished he’d had dinner there. Not because the food at Square One wasn’t absolutely fabulous, but the ambiance of La Te Da just seemed more—for lack of a better term—him.
Staring at the building in front of him, he now realized that La Te Da was more of an entertainment complex rather than simply a drag bar. There was a restaurant, a quiet little bar, a drag bar, and a dance bar as well. The complex also offered high-end accommodations. From the sidewalk, the restaurant looked absolutely charming. Candlelit tables with white linen tablecloths and black toppers were glowing in the outdoor dining area, each table appearing to be in its own private dining room, sectioned off by long billowing shears of white fabric dancing on
the light evening breeze. Charming. So romantic and absolutely charming.
From the street, he read the menu and knew he would make a point to dine here soon. He glanced at his watch again, and since the show didn’t start for another forty-five minutes, he decided to have an after-dinner drink in the little bar. Ordering a glass of port, he took a seat at the end of the bar and watched the patrons come and go. It seemed strange to not know a single person anywhere he went, but at the same time, it was exciting. In his mind, each time someone walked into the bar, it was an opportunity to possibly make a new friend.
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice. “New in town?” the bartender asked, raising an eyebrow and replacing the napkin under his half-finished glass of port.
“Yes, as a matter of fact I am,” Garner replied with a slight smile. “Do I look that obvious?”
“Not really,” the bartender said. “Just haven’t seen you around and, well, Key West is a very small town.” He stuck his hand across the bar. “Austin Newkirk.”
Accepting the outstretched hand, Garner gave it a tight shake. “Garner Holt. Nice to meet you.”
Garner had always thought you could tell a lot by a man’s handshake, and in this case Austin’s was firm and strong, just the way he liked it. And the man wasn’t at all hard on the eyes. His olive complexion was set off by jet-black hair that shone like silk in the low light of the bar, and he had the deepest hazel eyes Garner had ever seen. Garner was definitely an eye man, and Austin’s changed from green to brown to gold, depending on how they caught the light.
“So,” Austin said, “vacationing, or are you Key West’s newest resident?”
Garner chuckled and took a sip of his port. “A little of both, really.”
Austin cocked his head to one side.
“I just pulled in on my boat early this morning,” Garner explained.
“Ah… so just passing through?”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Garner replied. “My original plans were to cross the gulfstream and head to the Bahamas and then eventually to the Caribbean, but I have no timeline, so I’m taking it as it comes.”
Austin wadded up a bar towel and tossed it into the sink. “Sounds like a pretty damn nice life.”
“It is,” Garner agreed. “But I paid my dues.”
Someone took a seat at the other end of the bar, and Austin held up one finger. “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”
Garner nodded and watched the handsome bartender closely as he casually strolled down to the other end of the bar. His first thought was about how Austin’s ass muscles flexed under his fairly tight black slacks. But then, as usual, his years of being a psychiatrist kicked in, and he did a little analyzing. What hit him next was the air of confidence Austin carried when he walked. He was definitely a man who was comfortable in his own skin. Nice.
When Austin returned, customers all taken care of, he brought the bottle of port over and held it up in front of Garner with a raised eyebrow.
“Sure.”
“This one’s on me,” Austin said as he poured.
With Garner’s drink refreshed, Austin rested his elbows on the bar and looked directly into Garner’s eyes. “So where were we?”
Garner chuckled. “Oh hell, I don’t know.”
Austin smiled. “I know exactly where we were. You were about to tell me if you are staying on in Key West for a while or just passing through.”
Garner held his port glass up in a mock toast. “Very good. Handsome and smart.”
Holy shit, did those words just leave my mouth?
“So you think I’m handsome, huh?”
Garner felt the blush slowly consume his face and wanted to slide off his barstool and hide under the bar. “Sorry,” he said. “I don’t usually say stuff like that, but this town is having a strange effect on me.”
“Don’t fret,” Austin said. “It happens to the best of us.”
“You too?” Garner asked.
“Fuck yeah.” The bartender offered a clearly reminiscent smile. “I came here on vacation for a week, went home, quit my job as a junior accountant, packed up everything I own, and moved here… what?” He seemed to be doing a mental count. “Twelve years ago.”
“Any regrets?” Garner asked.
“Not a one,” Austin shared. “I found a job at a CPA’s office as soon as I arrived but got really bored, so I quit and… well, here I am. Been managing this place for over ten years now.”
“We seem to have something in common,” Garner said. “I left my profession as well, but I just decided to retire instead of doing something else.”
“Must be nice.”
“Yeah, well, like I said, I paid my dues. Long hours and absolutely no social life.”
“What did you do?”
Garner hesitated.
Austin seemed to pick up on his reluctance. “Never mind,” he said, slapping the bar lightly. “Folks come to Key West to forget or even escape, so scratch that question.”
Garner relaxed again. “Head of Psychiatry at Mount Sinai Medical Center in New York City.”
Austin whistled. “I’m impressed.”
“Oh don’t be,” Garner said, sliding his hand in circles on the bar, remembering his past life. “It was an all-or-nothing job, and I got tired of the ‘nothing’ part. Very long hours, budget cuts, limited staff, and did I already mention no social life? It sucked big time.”
“So I take it you’re single?” Austin asked.
“Yeah, I’m single,” Garner replied. “You?”
“Met my partner here about a year after I arrived, and we’ve been happily together ever since.”
Garner experienced a wave of disappointment and then immediately felt stupid. Why am I feeling let down? Maybe because he’s an interesting guy, you moron?
“Good for you,” Garner said, pushing those foolish thoughts out of his head. What is up with me?
He straightened on his barstool and looked Austin in the eye. “So what does he do?” he asked, not sure of what else to say.
“He’s the headliner in The Crystal Room Cabaret,” Austin said proudly.
Garner tried to mask the surprised look on his face but obviously didn’t do a very good job of it.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Austin said. “The guy is married to a drag queen?”
“Well, ah… no,” Garner stuttered. “I wasn’t thinking that at all.”
Austin raised an eyebrow.
“Okay,” Garner confessed. “Maybe I was thinking that a little, but I wasn’t judging. I’m just a little surprised is all.”
Austin smiled, obviously having some fun at Garner’s expense. “Hey, man, don’t sweat it. I get that all the time.”
“I’m really not judging, I swear,” Garner said, trying to sound convincing.
“It’s okay. Really.”
“Will you tell me about him?”
Austin looked up toward the ceiling. “Let me see. He’s gorgeous for starters. But more than that, he’s kind, compassionate, and an all-around great guy. He just happens to put on a wig, gown, and high heels and play dress-up five nights a week to entertain tourists. And he makes a damn good living at it.”
Garner couldn’t help but recognize the pride in Austin’s voice when he talked about his partner, or the look of contentment on his face. “I’m happy for you guys,” Garner said. “I really am. He sounds wonderful.”
Austin started to reply, then held up a finger and moved a little way down the bar. Garner turned in the same direction, and his mouth dropped open when he saw Cher walk up. Austin leaned across the bar and gave her a great big kiss.
Garner did a double take. Did I just see Cher?
He took a closer look, squinting his eyes tightly, and then shook his head in disbelief. Yep, that’s Cher all right.
Austin whispered something into Cher’s ear. She glanced in Garner’s direction and smiled. Garner immediately looked away, half expecting her to break into a live rendition of “Gyps
ies, Tramps and Thieves.”
When Garner looked back, he saw Austin hold his hand out, and Cher reached her sequined-glove-encased hand across the bar and slipped it into his. Holy shit! Austin’s bringing her down here.
Garner gulped, not really knowing what to do. Then Cher was standing right next to him, still holding Austin’s hand.
“Garner, I’d like you to meet my partner, John Webster,” Austin said. “Jack, this is Garner. Garner uh… Holt? Right?”
Garner nodded, unable to form the words to respond. How does one greet a man in a dress?
Giving up on etiquette, he simply stood and stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, John.”
“Likewise, and call me Jack, please,” Cher—no, Jack—said in a deep voice. “I hope you’re planning to see my show tonight?”
“As a matter of fact, I am,” Garner said in a shaky voice.
“Well, don’t wait too long, honey.” Jack tossed his long black hair over his shoulder, curling his tongue, and sucking in his cheeks. “The show starts in five minutes, and I’m a ‘Dark Lady’ if you show up late.”
Garner chuckled. “Got it. All I have to do is settle my check, and I’ll head right over.”
Cher nodded. She leaned over the bar and stole another kiss.
“Break a leg,” Austin said with a smile.
Cher turned and looked over her shoulder. She tossed her hair again and waved her hand in the air. “In these heels, I’ll be lucky if I don’t break them both.”
After Garner settled his check and said his good-byes to Austin with a promise to return soon, he ventured into The Crystal Room Cabaret. To his surprise, upon entering he realized the cabaret was fairly large but intimate at the same time. In line waiting to be seated, Garner took his time and took it all in. He saw that the theater was designed in three levels. The main level, where everyone entered, and two lower levels, all levels leading down to what he assumed was the stage, currently hidden behind royal blue velvet draperies trimmed in gold and silver. Looking from left to right, he saw banquette seating in the same royal blue velvet lining the walls on each level and royal-blue-skirted, high-top tables with barstools on the lower level directly in front of the stage. It reminded him of a smaller version of Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas.
