by Calinda B
“How do you do that? Keep all the segments connected, I mean. I’d think they’d fall off.”
“Do you like it?” he says, swirling again in a dramatic circle.
“Yes, I do.”
“Then, that’s all you need to know. Trade secrets and all that. Let’s roll.”
We head out to his mode of transportation, a classic Cadillac roadster from the 1930s. Highly specialized trans-mode restoration teams have taken to putting current Super-Smart-Car technology in the shells of old cars. The name of the game these days is reuse, repurpose, and restore. No more claim and rape of resources. It’s not that the planetary inhabitants’ morals are improved. We just can’t afford to make any more mistakes. We all need to make do with what we’ve got.
“Nice wheels, Magicka!”
“Thanks. They’re Dean’s. He’s got bucks. I’ve got friends. I’m a mere waiter, don’t forget.” He opens the car door and says, “Dean, this is the wonderful woman I told you about—this is Vienna.”
Dean is another flamboyant gender bender. He sports a full-on Alexander Skarsgård vintage True Blood bad-boy look on one side, coupled with a futuristic female-model kind of makeup from the Nuevo trendzies, current news we can access if we have the right pulse-com subscription. You can see people riding public transportation, sitting in cafes, or even walking with Nuevo trendzies news displayed in front of their retinas. I peruse it from time to time, too. Dean’s full-bowed Kewpie-doll half-red lips dotted with jewels were popular last week.
“Hi, Dean. Thanks for letting me tag along.”
“No problem, sugar,” he says and winks at me. “Now huddle up and let’s zoom.”
I hop in between them, sandwiched betwixt their two distinct fragrances and unique looks, and away we speed.
The Cadillac navigates us to Capitol Hill. When I was a child, my mom told me “the Hill” used to be fun, flamboyant, and full of color. It was mostly occupied by gays. Today the only color that exists is the two men next to me. The streets are in disrepair. Buildings are gone, vacant, or in a state of decay. “Why are we over here?” I ask. “This place is dead.”
“Not entirely,” Dean answers. “There’s a place here that you’ll just die when you see it. The owner, a guy named Kayos, got tired of waiting for a restoration team so he took matters into his own hands and built himself a gem.”
“What’s it called?”
He glances over at me and smirks. “Gem.”
“Oh. You set me up for that one.” I give him a wan smile.
“Just trying to cheer you up.”
“Thanks.”
He looks ahead and frowns. “People are starting to find out about this place. Look. A line is forming.”
“Should we go somewhere else?”
“Oh, no,” Magicka responds. “Dean does enough favors for Kayos—we should manage to get something.”
“What kind of favors?”
Magicka arches his perfectly painted eyebrows. “A girl never kisses and tells.”
“Oh. That kind.”
After we find a parking place, we walk around to the back of the restaurant. Dean knocks at the door. It opens, words are quietly exchanged, and soon a bleached blond, statuesque guy I assume is Kayos, due to his exuberantly warm, full-lip contact greeting of Dean, ushers us inside. He leads us up a set of stairs and seats us in a private area overlooking the whole dining area.
“This is quite a place. I’m Vienna, by the way.”
He gives me a soft handshake, bats his blond lashes, and says, “Kayos. My pleasure. And thanks.” He waves a hand toward the downstairs. “Well. As you can see my fans are waiting. Chantel will be by in a bit to take your orders.” He leers at Dean. “I’ll give you my order before you leave. I’ve got some junk that needs sorting. A field that needs plowing. And a hole that needs to be plugged.” He laughs and saunters off, swishing his hips side to side.
“No subtlety there,” I say.
“None whatsoever,” Dean says.
“You guys have it easy.”
“In what way?” Magicka picks up his napkin, opens it with a shake and drapes it in his lap.
“Oh, you know. Sex for you is easy.”
“It’s got to be hard before it gets easy.” He flashes me a wicked, knowing smile. “And I am never easy, girl, I guarantee you that.” He snaps his fingers at me and smiles.
“Funny.” I roll my eyes. “I just meant that you…you know…you’re not all complicated like women. You can…”
“We can what, darling?” Magicka turns the tiny vase of flowers on the table so the flowers lean their heads in my direction.
“You know…you can orgasm easily. Ka-blam. Like that.”
“We can indeed. Ka-blam!” He turns to Dean and the two men laugh. “Not so easy for you?”
He says it innocently enough, but a warm flush creeps up my face, as if he has read into my secret. “Not really.” I hope what passes for nonchalance has worked. “I kind of have to work at it.” Move it along, Vienna, move it along. “Have you ever done it with a woman?”
“Me? No,” Dean says. “Never had the interest. You’ve had a few confused moments, right, Magicka?”
“I wouldn’t call them confused. More like healthy exploration of possibilities. And what I learned was it wasn’t possible to be with a chick.”
“Why not?”
“No wood to build a fire. It just could not, would not happen. I tried.” He shrugs. “I even used my tongue.” He waggles his tongue suggestively at me. “But the taste is not to my liking. I prefer something a little muskier…a little manlier.” He glances at Dean and winks. “But why all this talk about the complexity of the female body? Yours looks fine to me.”
“Oh, no reason,” I say quickly. “I was just musing.”
“Well, let’s muse about your heart. Yours sounded pretty broken when you called.”
“Yeah. Can you believe it? Jonas is miserable in his relationship. But he lets her yank him around by the short hairs. And to take me off of the friend list!” I quickly turn away as tears flood my eyes.
“Ouch,” Dean commiserates.
“Super ouch,” Magicka adds. “You’ll work it out. This could just be his confused phase.”
“What’s there to be confused about? He told me he was getting fed up. He caught her red-handed with another man—you were there. You witnessed it. Doesn’t sound that complex to me.”
Magicka pushes his spoon to the edge of the table. He nudges it off the edge where it falls with a clatter. “Sometimes it seems like a long fall when you’re standing at the edge.”
“But he wouldn’t have to fall that far!” I protest. “What are friends for? To catch you when you fall!”
“Uh huh,” Magicka says knowingly. He and Dean exchange a look.
“What?” I scowl at them before glancing around the room. “Where’s our waitress?”
“She’ll be along. Don’t fret.” He gives me a searing look. “I think you have more than friendly feelings for your boy.”
“He’s not my boy. He made that clear. He was my friend. My friend! We did things together. We confided in each other. We’ve always been there for each other. We’ve consoled and comforted. Laughed and joked around. And then, at the end of the day, we go home to our respective lives. It’s been a perfect friendship.”
“Sounds like a bit more than that to me,” Magicka says gently.
I meet his gaze. His eyes are almost lavender in hue. They’re a bluish-purplish blend of softness, peering out of his colorful, made-up face. They appear deep and wise and kind. “You’ve got pretty eyes.”
“Thank you,” he says, and he doesn’t look away. “Yours are beautiful. As is all of you.”
I look away. “Thank you. Thank you for saying that.”
“Surely you know that, girl.”
“I’m not feeling it right now. I’m only feeling…” I cut the words off lest I burst into tears.
Magicka reaches over and pats my ha
nd. “There, there, girly girl. Dean and M are here for you.”
“Thanks.” I cast my eyes over the patrons below. The room is jam-packed. People line up in the entrance waiting for tables. Waiters and waitresses practically run from table to table. The kitchen is barely visible from where I sit, through a wide rectangle in the wall. Two men in white uniforms are tossing, sautéing, chopping, and hustling their butts off to get the food out. The front door opens and a familiar couple steps inside. My heart slowly slides to my feet and lands with a thud on the floor. It rolls to the edge of the balcony and hurls itself off the edge.
At that very moment, Jonas looks up and spies me. Our eyes lock and for the briefest of moments I think everything is going to be okay. Heat and longing flood my insides. I know he feels it, too. Jenner yanks on his arm to get his attention and the moment is lost, sucked into the din of the room.
Magicka looks at me, pivots to see what I’m looking at, and exclaims, “Oh no, girlfriend. Huh uh. That man does not get to come in here and destroy our day. He does not get to mess with your head and your heart. Not today. No, sir. Not on Magicka and Dean’s watch. Isn’t that right, Dean?”
Dean smiles indulgently at him. “You’ve got the softest heart. Doesn’t he look all badass and bitching?” Dean says to me. “Inside he’s a pussycat.”
“Uh huh.” I pick up my napkin and wipe my eyes.
“Talk about a good friend.” He leans over and kisses Magicka on the cheek. “We’ve been friends for a long time, too, haven’t we, honey?”
Magicka fans his face with his hand. “Oh, my, yes, longer than time itself.”
“Did you two ever…you know…try it as a couple?”
Magicka spurts out a laugh. “Did we ever! I thought we were going to kill each other.”
“See? That’s what would happen with Jonas and me. If we ever tried that, it would end our perfect friendship. Not that it hasn’t already ended. But that’s what I mean. He told me he wanted to be with me, that he was with the wrong woman. But I know it would be a mess.” I realize I’m talking in one long breathless stream but I can’t stop myself. “You get it, right? It’s better to just be friends.” I regard each of them and snap my mouth tight, shutting off the babble stream.
“Just listen to you, girl. You’ll never know unless you try.”
“But now we don’t even have a friendship! We have…we have…we have nothing!” I fear a whole tempestuous flood scene is about to happen, thanks to my betraying eyes—betrayed heart is more like it. I grab my napkin and press it against my face, willing my brain to hold back the floodgates.
“Let it out,” Magicka soothes. “Just let out the pain. We’re here for you.”
“But I’m in a public place,” I sob. I glance down to see Jonas seated at a table. My vision of Jenner is obscured by the balcony. I can only see Jonas. He’s staring at me and he looks miserable. He knows, he has to know, he did this to me. He has to know he broke my heart. He has to know that by staying with Jenner he’s destroying any possibility of happiness. For us, I think and I quickly lob that thought across the room.
“It’s his decision,” Deans says softly. “A man has to make his own choices.”
“Yeah, but it’s wrong,” I wail and the floodgates burst open. Wouldn’t you know it, that damn waitress Chantel makes an appearance at this moment. I flash a hot, huffy glare.
“Boy trouble?” she asks.
Now everyone is up in my business. “Uh huh,” I say, sniffling.
“Get a vibrator. They’re easier to manage,” she advises.
Everyone’s full of super suggestions right now, I think with a scowl.
“We’re only trying to help,” Magicka says, as if plucking that thought from my brain.
“I know. But right now the only person who can help me is sitting below with his demon girlfriend. I want to carve her eyes right out of her head.”
“I’ll hold her down,” Dean says.
“Not me, I’d break a nail,” Magicka adds, looking shocked.
“And I’ll take your order,” Chantel says. “You’ll need food first.” She taps the menus.
“We’ll all have your famous burgers,” Magicka declares. “And make sure to bring that girl something stiff.”
“No, thanks, just ice tea.”
“I wasn’t offering you a drink. I was suggesting something a little warmer, taller, and more delicious. Chantel can probably find you a little ‘something-something.’”
Right. Like I need another random sexual encounter, virtual or real. The avatar Himeros flashes before my eyes. Maybe I will have to let him call me again. I’ll take the block off his number. He did make me pretty horny. So I don’t know anything about him. It’s all a fantasy in the end.
Chapter Twelve
After we’re done with our brunch, I decide to visit Grammy. Magicka and Dean drop me off amidst plenty of air kisses and wishes for me to either kick Jonas’s ass or find someone new. I don’t say this but it’s hard to replace so many years of friendship just like that. And all that sharing and connection? Irreplaceable. Jonas and I just click.
I knock on Grammy’s door and wait for her to answer. I knock again. Finally, I hear movement inside and she shuffles to the door, appearing as if she’s been asleep.
“Vienna!” she exclaims and wipes her eyes. “What a nice surprise. Come in.”
I stand in the doorway, hesitant. “Did I wake you?”
“Oh, just dozing. Come in. Please.”
I enter and immediately burst into tears.
“Oh my, dear, what’s the matter?” She searches her tiny room for a tissue. She finds a box and brings it to me, extracting a tissue for me to blot my eyes and nose.
“Thanks, Grammy.”
She perches on her sofa, patiently allowing me to finish with the waterworks display. Her eyes drift about her small room, landing on the crystal vase of flowers…the knickknacks and curios she’s collected over the years…the holo-screen viewing device embedded in the wall…the window that overlooks the neighborhood and the city in the distance…and finally, me. “You can talk to me, you know. Who am I going to tell?” She reaches a wrinkled hand over to take my hand. The embrace is soothing, like being enveloped in marshmallows and chocolate milk. I feel as if I am twelve years old and I just scraped my knee and Grammy is soothing me, like she’s done my whole life.
“You’ve got friends in this joint,” I joke. “They’ll talk.” I blow my nose noisily.
She shakes her head. “No. I think I’ve earned your trust over the years.” She picks up the small waste receptacle and holds it out for the tissue. It lands and immediately begins decomposing. “Here.” She extends another tissue to me.
“Thanks.” I dab at my eyes. “So, it’s Jonas.” Just saying his name causes another tidal wave to erupt. “He scratched me off his friend list,” I wail. “Me! Vienna! His longtime friend!”
“Oh my, that must hurt.” She gives my hand a squeeze. “You’ve been friends a long time. Your heart must feel as if it’s in a vise-grip!”
“It does. Like it’s in your waste receptacle, more like it.” I glance at where the tissue used to be. “And the enzymes are eating it, posthaste.”
“How do you know you’re off the friend list?”
“He told me. He said he couldn’t go to lunch with me today and not tomorrow and that he and Jenner are working things out…they’re working things out! What’s to work? He caught her with another man and this is how they work things out?” I sniffle some more.
“He’s a man, honey, and men have to sort things out in their own way.”
“Yeah? Well, their way is stupid. I saw him in a restaurant just now and he looked miserable.”
“I imagine he’s not happy with his decision either. Just be patient.”
I splutter. “Be patient? Be patient? Why should I be patient? He’s the one who’s being an asshole.”
“Oh, honey.” Grammy leans over and folds me in her slender, frail arm
s.
I’m lovingly swallowed in cologne, wise thoughts, and buckets of love. That’s when I really lose it. That’s when my lungs fling their remorse about, trying to cast away all hurt and anger and sorrow. When I’ve finished, a feeling of quietude quietly beams from my insides. It’s a small beam of peace, more like a penlight than a sun, but it’s what I’ve got finally, and I’m grateful.
“Thank you,” I say, easing away from her. I look at her now moist shoulder. “We’re going to have to get you another shirt. This one’s soaked.”
“It’s warm today. I needed the moisture.” She smiles. “Feeling better?”
“Yes.”
She glances away and then faces me square. “Vienna, I know Jonas has been your friend for years but all these feelings point to something more. Are you in love with him?”
“No!” I protest. “I love him, but I’m not in love with him.”
“Okay.”
“What? I’m not.”
“I heard you.”
“And anyway, even if I was, it would never work.”
“Okay.”
“You don’t believe me.”
“I’m just listening.”
I sigh. Glance at her wise face. Her light blue eyes peer from underneath folds of soft skin. I’ve always loved her eyes, her kind face. Not as wrinkled as her peers. She’s got a warm smile. One chipped tooth, right in the front. She says it happened a long time ago but never told me the story of how it occurred. Her curly salt-and-pepper hair is short. I adore her. She’s always been my safe haven. I decide to take a risk. “I’ve got this…this problem, Grammy.”
“What is it?” Her eyes are like searchlight beams probing my skull with gentle persistence.
“It’s…well, I’ve never…” My eyes cast about wildly for something to land on. Finally they land on Grammy’s kind face. “I’ve never had an orgasm. I don’t know how.”
“Not even with Liam?”
