The House of Impossible Beauties

by Joseph Cassara

  * * *

  After the man dropped him back off at the piers, Daniel saw two more men and gave them handjobs that, even Daniel had to admit, just didn’t live up to their usual razzle-dazzle. Daniel sat on a bench and smoked a cigarette, holding the smoke in for an extra second each time. He didn’t know exactly what time it was, but just looking out and listening to the thinning crowds, he could tell the end of the night was coming. Lady Midnight had long climaxed and now she was ready for sleep.

  It must have been somewhere in that sweet spot between four and five in the morning, the night giving off a hint of purple-lighted surprise, the boom-booms settled con calma and those young queens who sang along with Jody, about finding somebody new, looking for a new love, baby, yeah, yeah, yeah—even they were tired now and holding their tacones in their hand, barefoot walking, looking to put their head down on something soft before sleep. The heel clacks stopped clacking, the fingers stopped snapping, and the last course of shade was served to all those starving ears looking for sass. At least until the next day.

  This was Daniel’s favorite time in the whole damn city. River to river, he couldn’t think of another corner on the isla that vibrated to their rhythms at that hour. It was a time when the performances were over and the stage was empty, and Daniel could finally go back uptown and fall asleep next to Juanito.

  As he walked toward the 1 train on Christopher, he kept his head down, hands tucked away in his pockets. Pero he still watched. He watched those fierce things scurry over to the empty warehouses along the West Side Highway, yearning for coke and a nice cock to top it off. He watched the nenitas look out for free benches. He watched the packs of banjee girls and banjee boys walking to the club, or the after hours, where the realness would be on tip-top display and the nose candy was so smooth, it would take five or six heavy rails to start a nosebleed. Heaven’s to Dorothy, the queens claimed, even the nosebleeds could be elegant.

  He never needed a watch to know that that time of night was coming, but he thought, Wouldn’t it be nice to have something glittery for my wrist? And it could tell him the time of day, goodness, like a double whammy. He could know exactly when to pack it up, instead of reading the energy of the streets for the go-home time. Reading the streets, he thought, is something more than intuition. It was more of tapping into an awareness of patterns. He couldn’t read the stars or the placement of the moon way up there in the sky, but damn, wouldn’t it be nice to twist his wrist and see a digital display telling him where exactly in the night he was standing?

  Sure, time could masquerade herself beyond any kind of recognition, just like an ugly queen could douse herself in a gallon of Drakkar Noir and paint her face like some pendeja—beyond total recognition, be-yond. But a watch would change that, he thought. As he approached the subway station, he pinched the subway token in his pocket and pressed his fingers into the groove in the center of it so hard that it would leave a dent on his fingers. He did this every night he was riding the subway back up to home. He loved the gentle pain on the tips of his fingers, and he loved to watch, después, his body working to push the skin back to its normal place. It only took a couple of seconds, and what magic, he thought, what magic our bodies could do.

  He stood by himself on the subway platform and stared at a hobo who was wearing three jackets, head back and mouth open and snoring loud. Daniel decided then that he would buy a set of watches for both himself and Juanito. In the car, it was just a thought, but now it was a plan. He would buy it and surprise Juanito and then when they weren’t together, at least they could arrange to look at their watches at the same time, like midnight on the dot, every night, look up at the moon, and think of each other. For the first time in days, he felt excited.

  * * *

  It felt like ages since they last cleaned the apartment, even though in reality, it had only been a week. When Daniel returned from the consignment shop with the two watches tucked away in a yellow plastic bag, Angel was working her shift at Pathmark and Juanito was taking a nap in his bedroom. Venus was sweeping the floor and using the broom as a dance prop for the music that must’ve been playing in her head, because the house was, otherwise, silent.

  Daniel hid the watches under the sofa pillow and laughed at Venus, who he knew was trying to get a rise out of him. She overexaggerated her lip-syncing mouth movements, as if the end of the broom was a mic. She did a one-two-three salsa motion. She grinded up against Daniel’s leg like she was dancing some kind of bachata. Daniel took the other broom and started sweeping with her, telling her shh-shh, Juanito is trying to get some z’s.

  “What’s gotten into you?” he asked her. “You take a triple shot of Café Bustelo or something? That shit is like liquid crack.”

  Venus shook her head no and pouted out her bright pink lips.

  “You pumped about that new Revlon shade you got working on those labios?”

  “Tampoco.” She shook her head again and swept under the table.

  Daniel held the broom closer to his body, as if he were grabbing on tight to the subway bar during a quick zoom through an express train tunnel. He looked at her head to toe to see if he could do a thorough read.

  He saw it. The bracelet: chain-linked silver that made a boy want to scream, ¡Qué plateada!

  “Oh, I see, I see,” he said. “You’re working a new bracelet. I see it on you, practically making that wrist come alive with the sound of music.”

  Venus singsonged her thank-you, bent down to brush the dust pile into the scooper. “Nena, you know this shit is Tiffany’s.”

  “Damn, girl,” he said. “You gotta have been saving up a pretty penny for that thing.”

  She gave him a side-look as she pressed the toe of her red patent pump to the basura so the lid would pop open. She let the dust fall in. “Whatchoo trying to say? You don’t think I bought it?” she asked. “You don’t think I could afford Tiffany’s on my own?”

  “I didn’t say that.” He stopped sweeping to look at her from across the room. “Oh please, Vee, you’re the only girl I know who sweeps a floor in stilettos—”

  “They’re pumps.”

  “Whatever,” he said. “They’re big enough to make me sprain three ankles if I ever wore them. What I’m saying is, I know you’re fabulous and I know you probably worked hard to get the bracelet. I’m not insinuating anything.”

  She squinted at him and pursed her lips.

  “You squint any harder,” he sassed her, “and you’re gonna need a pair of bifocals.”

  “Oh hush,” she said and laughed.

  They kept sweeping until no more dust was coming up. Before they could prepare the mop to make the parquet sparkle, they broke out into a silent vogue fest. Venus started near the window and Daniel started near the door, but they faced each other. Then they walked, walked, walked to the center of the room.

  Daniel focused on his movements, which he was still trying to get used to. He knew that Venus had years more experience than he did, and he felt like he was stumbling to hit the movements in single beats. Lines, he thought, Egyptian hieroglyphic lines. One, two, left foot in front of right. He tried to whip his arms around, but he was worried it would look too much like a damn windmill. Venus walked around him with her hands on her hips, looking straight ahead as if she were balancing a trophy on top of her head. Then they popped and dipped, careful to make sure their arms and legs didn’t touch the other’s body. Daniel laughed. He could only imagine how, without music to accompany them, it must’ve looked like a game of Twister. When they both popped back up off the floor, Venus balanced on her left leg and boom—did a Machiavellian suicide dip like schwam, bam, thank you, ma’am.

  Daniel held out his hand for Venus to grab hold of to bring her back up to her feet. “You bested me, Vee,” he said. “I got a lot to learn still. These movements are rough, yo.”

  She winked and smiled. “Like most things,” she said, “it just takes time.”

  Once they finished mopping and they were waiting
for the floor to dry, they sat cross-legged on the couch and Daniel told her he wanted to show her the matching watches he had just bought.

  “Casio digitals,” he said as he hurried to take the boxes out of the plastic bag. “So we don’t gotta read the two hands. Did you know those Movados don’t even have numbers or nothing?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I seen one once with just a glitter dot at the midnight point.”

  “Exactly,” he said. Now the box was in his hand but he didn’t open it yet. “They’re too expensive anyway. I didn’t even realize, but I guess it makes sense. I just don’t get how you can look at the time if there ain’t no numbers.”

  “Rich people don’t need to know the time,” she said. “If they’re late for an appointment by an hour because they read their time wrong, nobody’s gonna yell at them, sabes?”

  Daniel opened the box and he watched as Venus touched the gold links that made up the wrist band. “Pero don’t you blab to Juanito about the gift,” he said. “I want it to be a surprise.”

  “A gift?” she said, pinching the Tiffany on her wrist. “What’re you implying?”

  “Girl, what’s bugging you?” he said. “I’m not implying nothing and this is the second time you’re bugging today.”

  “Jesus, fine,” she said. “I’ll tell you. Just don’t tell Angel. Do you think she already knows? Do you think she doesn’t believe when I told her that I bought it myself?”

  “Knows what? What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “She would lose her shit if she knew I took it as a gift because sometimes gifts mean we’re indebted to them?”

  “Them?” he said. “Are you saying I shouldn’t give Juanito the watch?”

  Venus sighed and closed her eyes.

  “You’re acting loca and speaking all redondo,” he said. “Can you explain to me what you mean?”

  Venus told him about the Staten Island guy, the hotel room, the car, the gift, the show tickets. “He just gave it to me,” she said, “I didn’t even ask for nothing. I don’t want to talk about it. Did you know that jellicle cats are queens of the night? Singing at astronomical heights?”

  “What the fuck does jellicle mean?” Daniel said. “I don’t see what the big deal is, if you didn’t even ask for it. Are you singing Cats showtunes at me? You know I haven’t seen it—”

  Venus took the watch out and handed it to Daniel. “Well this is jazzy,” she said. “Put it on your jellicle wrist so I can get a good, jellicle look-see.”

  Daniel unlatched the clasp and slipped it on his wrist. He jiggled his wrist once, then twice, to get the face in a position that comforted him.

  “Oooooh, girl,” Venus said, rushing her hands to the sides of her face. “All the yeses on that.”

  “You like it?” Daniel said. “Don’t say jellicle again, I’m serious. You think he’ll like it?”

  “What do you think?” Venus said. “It’s a much better gift than going to the Winter Garden, I’ll tell you that much.”

  Daniel laughed as he took the watch off and put it back into the box. “Sí,” he said, “but did you like the show anyway?”

  “It was wacktastic,” she said. “Who the hell needs to see life-size cats prancing onstage? The actual fuck?”

  Then Venus let out a scream that could bend a stop sign. Daniel jumped up to his feet faster than fast. Venus took a deep breath, then she giggled. She looked at the middle of the sofa and pointed. It was just a spider.

  “Fuck, yo,” Daniel said. “You can’t scream like that. That’s so not cool. I almost shit myself just now. You want me to kill it for you?”

  Venus said, “No, don’t you dare! She probably spent a whole lot of energy building up that fanciful web she got spun up.” She stood up next to Daniel and pushed the couch from against the wall. “Yeah,” she said, leaning over. “Look at that. Looks just like silk, damn. I think I see some leftover glitter bits back here from the last shindig we threw for Angel’s birthday. I’ll be damned—looks like it’s been some time since we swept back behind here.”

  She took off her heels and let them rest on the sofa, then she tiptoed to the cocina to get the broom. “Ave María,” she said. “Looks like that little araña got herself a secret little lair back here too. I think one of my wig hairs is all up in her web.”

  * * *

  Grand Central Station at two o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon was chaos, but it was also the only place a person could go during the day to look up and see the stars. That was why Daniel chose it as the spot for their midday date, and even though the central room was all hustle and bustle, coats and briefcases in a hurry, and people who were so intent on their destinations that they forgot to look up, Daniel still felt he and Juanito were all alone there. Just the two of them.

  Daniel had the watches in his backpack. The idea was to present the watches to Juanito after they had traced the lines of the constellations that were painted on the sky-roof. The main terminal always made Daniel feel like he was walking into the age of oil men with monocles and so much money they could use it for toilet paper and it wouldn’t be no matter. Now, as he walked through the main terminal, holding Juanito’s hand, the main room was lit with yellow light and old-fashioned bulbs. The yellow was so soft, it made the air in the room feel like melting gold.

  “There’s something I wanna show you,” Daniel said. “One of the Grand Central secrets. Do you know about it?”

  “Secrets?” Juanito said. “What secrets?”

  “The whispering corners,” he said. “You ever hear of it?”

  Juanito shook his head no and Daniel squeezed his hand and led the way to the side hallways. The vaulted ceilings had zigzagged brick inlays and at the top, there were two arrows to guide people. To the left, OYSTER BAR. To the right, TO TRAINS.

  “If I stand over there,” Daniel said, pointing, “and you stand a little ways over there, and I whisper some words, it’ll secretly travel the sound over to you.”

  “No lo creo,” Juanito gasped. “But wait, how does that even work?” His eyes were squeezing with thought.

  “Because of science,” Daniel said, “but I dunno the exact details. You wanna try it out?”

  Juanito was already skipping over to the wall. He looked at Daniel and raised his eyebrows to ask if he was ready. Once he faced the wall, Daniel whispered, “I’ve got a sorpresa for someone, and that someone is you.”

  Daniel turned around to see Juanito, but Juanito was still facing the wall. Juanito turned around but looked at Daniel and shrugged. Daniel moved his hands to communicate, Okay, turn around again.

  When Juanito was facing the wall again, Daniel whispered, “I bought you something real cute and I want to give it to you.” He spun around real quick to see if Juanito caught any of it in his ears.

  Juanito turned around, shook his head, and made a face that seemed to say, No words. So Daniel gave up. “Maybe we were standing in the wrong spot,” he told Juanito as they walked back out to the main concourse. “I know I heard somewhere that there was a spot here, but maybe we were off by a couple of feet.”

  “It don’t really matter,” Juanito said. “The idea of it is cool anyway, but just look at that ceiling. I think I see a crab in that corner over there.”

  Daniel looked up to where Juanito was pointing. He thought he saw it, but he couldn’t be sure. “Looks like they need to clean the ceiling un poco and refresh the paint lines, verdad?”

  They walked over to the marble steps so they could sit down and look up. A woman in a white fur coat and earmuffs glided past them. “She’s so fabulous,” Juanito said as he sat down.

  “She looked like a cotton ball in that fur,” Daniel laughed.

  “Totalmente,” Juanito said, “but a fabulous cotton ball, no less.”

  Daniel put his arm around Juanito and they looked up at the ceiling and didn’t say nada. Just took it all in, swallowing it with their eyes, feeling the warmth of the building and wondering how a room could feel so quiet and so
loud at the same time. A couple minutes went by like that and Daniel couldn’t bring himself to reach into his backpack for the watches. His stomach was all butterflies.

  “You two,” a voice said. Daniel looked to his right. It was a cop. His moustache was bushy and his sideburns were thick rails that came down to his jawbone. “What do you two think you’re doing?”

  Daniel took his arm off Juanito’s shoulder and grabbed one of his backpack’s straps. “We was just looking up, officer,” Daniel said.

  “You two can’t do that here,” the cop said. “You’re blocking traffic.”

  “Who are we blocking?” Juanito said. “—officer,” he added.

  The cop crossed his arms and looked down at them.

  “We’re leaving,” Daniel said. He rushed up to his feet and put his backpack on.

  When they stepped outside, Daniel reached out his hand to hold onto Juanito’s, but Juanito put his hands in his pockets. “No sé, Daniel,” Juanito said. “Why’d you give up so easy?”

  “Porque he knew we were gay,” Daniel said.

  “¿Y qué?”

  “You wanna get your ass kicked by the police?”

  “I’m just pissed off,” Juanito huffed. “They never see us unless we’re blocking someone’s way.”

  * * *

  Back at the house, they had things to themselves. The lights were off, the heat too, so Juanito spread a large piece of fabric over the table in the cocina while Daniel filled the biggest pot with water and put it on the stove to boil. He added two drops of lavender oil so the goal was two: as the water vapor filled the room, it would feel warmer and smell damn good.

  They both lay under the table next to each other, staring at the beams of wood that kept the table standing. Daniel eyed-in on one rough edge that looked like if touched, it would give off a mean splinter. The fabric was so long, it flowed down and rubbed up against the floor and kept all the light out. “This feels comfy,” he said, but Juanito laughed.