23 Miles

by Renee Mackenzie

  He ran. He didn’t look back.

  She stepped to the side of the building and took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself. It wasn’t lost on her that a learning moment was missed with that kid. And it wasn’t lost on her that she didn’t care. She was so mad, so tired of people thinking it was okay to do harm to the cars in the parking lot of a lesbian bar.

  Dee came out the door to the parking lot and lit a cigarette. Shay walked over to her.

  “That shit will kill you,” Shay said, getting herself together.

  “And so will so many other things—and people,” Dee said.

  “You feeling a little morbid tonight?”

  Dee took a long drag. “I can’t shake the looking-over-my-shoulder feeling. You don’t think it could be someone we know, do you?”

  It bothered Shay that she knew without her saying that she was talking about Allie and Diane. So many people were thinking about what had happened. “I sure as hell hope not.”

  “Some of the regulars aren’t coming out anymore. They’d rather stay home or have parties at different women’s homes. Business being down hurts financially, but what’s even worse is knowing that people you care about are scared.”

  “Yeah. I feel so helpless in this whole thing.” And she did. At least while she was a cop she had some resources available to her and she was somewhat in the loop about what was going on in town.

  “There is something you can do—we can do,” Dee said.

  Shay looked Dee over carefully. Her friend had a thinking-way-too-hard expression on. “Should I be afraid?”

  “I’ve had several women tell me they think it’d be a big help if women felt more empowered.”

  Shay couldn’t argue with that, so she didn’t. “Okaaaay?”

  “And we think if you taught self-defense to whoever was interested that would help,” Dee said.

  “There are people a lot more qualified to do that than I am.” She snatched the new cigarette Dee was about to light out of her mouth. “Besides, I don’t have any place to teach.”

  “Sure you do.” Dee grabbed at her cigarette but Shay was too fast. “You can teach right here, during the day. We could set up a weekday afternoon class and one on the weekend.”

  Shay thought about that.

  “And you are the most qualified because everyone here trusts you and respects you,” Dee said.

  “We would need some supplies. Mats for starters.”

  “You tell us what you need and we’ll get it. Figure out how much you want to charge. You can keep all the fees. And we’ll make money on drinks and food because folks will need some nourishment after kicking your ass.”

  Shay smiled. “Sounds like you’ve thought this through.”

  “I think it’ll be good for everyone. You in?”

  “I’m in.” Shay handed the cigarette back to her. “Isn’t your break over?”

  Dee laughed. “Coming in?”

  “No, I had to scare off a punk intent on mischief. I think I’ll hang out here for a while longer.”

  An hour later, Shay felt pretty sure the kid wouldn’t be back, so she went inside. She leaned against the wall and watched the women. It was fascinating to look around at all the different types of people who came together under one roof. Some women held court at tables, letting people they knew come to them, others milled about, going from table to table, or perhaps conquest to conquest.

  A woman danced slowly alone on the dance floor, oblivious to anyone else. At times she closed her eyes, other times she watched herself in the mirrored wall. She was a good dancer, maybe a little too gyrating at times for Shay’s taste, but good nonetheless.

  Someone she recognized from her cop days came out of the bathroom, swiping at her nose. Shay had no doubt that she and the other woman who came out immediately after her had been in a stall snorting. Not my problem, she reminded herself. She was just there to keep everyone safe.

  The music changed and “Like a Virgin,” came on. The lone dancer started moving as if acting out the words of the song. Shay stared for a few seconds, then looked away. She saw Dee standing, frozen, at the bar, her face pale. Several other women had similar expressions. Shay felt a bit ill as she remembered the AIDS fundraiser they’d had at the bar the year before, when Allie had lip-synched to that song, also acting out the words.

  Suddenly the music ended and a faster dance song came on. Shay realized Toni was in the DJ booth, just as she had been the night of the fundraiser. Toni would know what painful memories would be provoked by watching that woman act out the song exactly as Allie had.

  Chapter Six

  Talia’s good mood from spending time with Shay kept her high the entire next day. Then something amazing happened. Shay called her Friday evening and invited her to dinner at her place for the next night.

  Talia spent most of Saturday trying to decide what to wear. She thought about what Shay had said to her in the parking lot outside of work. You look cute in real life. What if Talia showed up in little makeup and unteased hair and Shay decided she liked the bar look better?

  Shay hadn’t really noticed Talia with all the hair and makeup prior to her coming out as her stalker, so maybe she should try the other look for this dinner. What could it hurt? It would cut down on the time it took to get ready and it would cut down on the upkeep throughout the evening. And what if Shay invited her to spend the night? Waking up with makeup smears and huge bedhead was not a good look for her.

  Talia decided to wear minimum mascara and a touch of lip gloss. She wouldn’t give herself big hair, she would just let it feather away from her face with no hairspray or mousse. She put on an emerald-green blouse and black jeans. Finally, she slipped into her black loafers.

  As she was heading out, she saw her notebook and thought about the poem she’d started. She grabbed her larger notebook and the small one with the notes jotted in it, and sat on the bed. Before she knew it, she had a first draft.

  Van Gogh’s Ear

  If Van Gogh’s ear

  grew ovaries,

  and lay with an androgynous coyote

  on a bed of pine cones,

  then birthed a kit one year later,

  suckled by a black bear,

  mentored by a lioness,

  finally named Myself…

  seeking,

  searching,

  always listening,

  Van Gogh’s ear with ovaries.

  She was happy with it as a start and thrilled that she’d done it without a ton of caffeine or any speed.

  Even though she already felt jazzed from writing, Talia knew she’d need a little caffeine to stay energized. She sipped on a Jolt Cola on the drive to Norfolk. Luckily, the tunnel hadn’t backed up yet, or was in between backups. Talia was just glad not to be sitting there for any length of time getting her blouse wrinkled. Even though it was cool out, she kept the AC blasting to keep from sweating too much from nerves.

  As she turned onto Shay’s street, Talia wondered if she should have brought something. Wine? Flowers? No, not flowers. Crap. She didn’t even know the basics about lesbian dating. There were a lot of cars on the road in front of Shay’s house. Talia almost drove past as she realized it wasn’t a date but a gathering of friends.

  Friends.

  She parked but stayed in the car for a few minutes. Then she realized that was like stalking. She had to decide: go in and be one in a group of her friends, or leave.

  Talia got out of the car, locked it behind her, and marched toward Shay’s house before she could chicken out. Shay met her at the door, saying, “Hey, you made it.”

  “Hi,” Talia said.

  “Come on in. You know a few of the women here, but let me introduce you to the rest.”

  She followed Shay into the kitchen where Kate and Lana were working by the stove. “Hi, Talia,” Kate said, not overly friendly.

  Lana turned and reached out her hand. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Lana Christianson.”
>
  Talia shook her hand. “Talia Lisher.”

  “Can I get you a drink?” Shay asked. “Beer, soda, some booze?”

  “A soda is fine for now.”

  Shay handed her a can of Coke and grabbed her glass off the counter. “Come on outside and I’ll introduce you to everyone else.”

  There was a swirl of names and small talk before Talia ended up at a picnic table with Shay.

  “You look great today,” Shay said.

  Talia’s eyes made their path over Shay’s body before she could stop herself. Shay was wearing a white button-down shirt with dark blue jeans. “So do you,” Talia murmured. She looked around the backyard. “This is an awesome yard.”

  “Thanks.” Shay sat on the bench beside Talia. “We’re having hot dogs and burgers. Is that okay?”

  “Sounds great. Smells great.”

  “It does. Ginny’s cooking because I’ve been banned from the grill. Last time we had a cookout I burned up the first batch of food and someone had to take over.” She grew somber. “Wow, I’d forgotten. It was Allie who did the grilling after I ruined it.”

  By the look on Shay’s face, Talia knew which Allie she was referring to. Talia couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to hold that kind of memory after someone you knew died, especially if they died at the hands of someone else.

  “I’m sorry,” Talia whispered.

  Shay clapped her hands once, as if snapping herself out of a bad dream. “Today is a day to celebrate.”

  “Did someone say celebrate?” A woman whose name Talia had already forgotten approached them.

  “Yes, Brit, someone did,” Shay said as she lifted her glass. “Here’s to old friends and new.”

  Talia nervously touched her soda can to Brit’s beer bottle and Shay’s cocktail.

  “So, Talia, I hear you’re from the other side of the water.”

  “Yes. I live in Newport News now, but grew up in Seaford.”

  “Oh, Kate grew up in Seaford, didn’t she?”

  “Yes,” Talia and Shay said simultaneously.

  “Well, we like pulling our family over to our side,” Brit said with a smile. “So, Shay, I hear you agreed to teach self-defense at the bar.”

  “Yeah. We thought at first we’d start with two classes a week, but now I’m thinking we’ll start with one a week, on Saturday afternoons, and see how it goes. There are still a lot of details to work out.”

  “I think that will be great,” Talia said.

  “Yes, anything that involves sweating women is bound to be pretty great,” Brit said. She looked at her empty beer bottle. “Time for another beer. Check you later.”

  “You doing okay?” Shay asked Talia.

  “Yeah.” She looked around at the small groupings of women around the yard. “This is nice.” And it was nice; even if it wasn’t the intimate dinner she had thought it would be.

  “The food should be ready soon,” Shay said.

  Talia was surprised how relaxed she felt. When she pulled up and saw all the cars, she thought for sure she would feel uncomfortable around Shay’s friends, but she wasn’t. It was a big plus that Shay was sitting with her, talking to her, acting a little like her date.

  “We have to make sure you get some of the baked beans. Dee sent them over even though she couldn’t make it since she’s working the bar tonight.”

  Talia looked more closely at the corner of the yard. There was a lawn mower and other lawn care equipment. She remembered the talk that Shay was doing landscaping now that she had quit the police force.

  “Do you miss being a cop?” Talia asked.

  “Yes and no. My answer to that question seems to depend on what day it is.”

  “Why did you quit?”

  “I guess I’d become disillusioned. Jaded.”

  “Someone at the bar said it was because one of your cop friends beat up a queen you know.”

  Shay nudged Talia’s knee with hers. “You believe everything you hear at the bar?”

  “No.” She shrugged. “Hell, I don’t even believe everything I hear out of my own mouth.”

  Shay let out a huge laugh and most of the women in the yard turned to look in their direction. Talia felt a sense of pride that she’d made Shay laugh and that everyone saw them sitting together.

  “Come and get it,” Ginny hollered.

  “Chow time,” Shay said as she stood.

  As everyone fixed their plates, lanterns started to come on, adding a soft glow to the yard. Talia hadn’t noticed them hanging from trees around the yard. It was such a cool touch.

  Talia felt a little chill when she sat beside Shay at the picnic table. Kate and Lana sat opposite them. Talia noticed Lana had slipped on a jacket and decided after she ate she would go to her car to see if she had a sweater or jacket in the backseat.

  About halfway through the burger and beans on her plate, Talia started to shiver but thought she’d hidden it well, so she was surprised and grateful when Shay got up to get them each a vodka and tonic and returned with a jean jacket too. She handed it to her and Talia warmed from the gesture. She grew warmer still at the way the scents of raspberry and vanilla came from the jacket. “Thank you,” she managed to get out.

  “You’re welcome. If that doesn’t do the trick we can move inside. I just thought it was too pretty of a night to not take advantage of it.”

  “It is beautiful out tonight.” Out of the corner of her eye Talia saw Lana nudge Kate. Talia found herself not caring what that was about. She was sitting beside Shay, eating a perfectly grilled burger, and wearing a jacket that smelled like Shay. It was a beautiful night, all right.

  “So, Talia, how’s your brother doing?” Kate asked.

  She didn’t know what Kate thought she was going to accomplish, or what game she was playing, but Talia was beyond caring. “He’s doing great. As a matter of fact, I’m going to visit him tomorrow.”

  “Oh?” Kate asked.

  Brit had just sat down on the end of the bench next to Talia. “Where’s your brother live?”

  “Brookeville, at the federal penitentiary there.” There it was, out in the open. Welcome to Talia’s world, warts and all.

  Brit almost spit out a mouthful of beer.

  Shay squeezed Talia’s shoulder. “I think it’s good you see your brother.”

  Talia leaned in to Shay’s touch and was disappointed when Shay removed her hand a few moments later. She could tell Shay already knew about Brian being incarcerated. Of course, Kate would have told her all about Talia’s messed-up family. She wondered what else Kate had told her. Talia looked across the table at Kate. She could have easily asked Kate if April was still clean, but she already knew the answer to that one. At that moment, she actually felt sorry for Kate. Talia didn’t care how many degrees in psychology Kate acquired, she still came from a family as messed up as Talia’s.

  At least Talia had the class to keep her judgments to herself.

  †

  Talia walked slowly across the parking lot to the entrance of the prison. She felt guilty even though she wasn’t doing anything wrong. She wasn’t trying to sneak anything in, and she wasn’t going to lie about anything. So, why did she feel so anxious?

  The guard barely looked at her as he asked about food, weapons, or any other contraband. As he led her to the main room with tables and chairs spread throughout, she saw Brian immediately. His hair looked shorter than she’d seen it since his trial and the goatee he had grown was also gone.

  He gave her a bear hug before letting her sit down, then told her all about his new job coaching one of the softball teams. It felt more like camp than prison, except for the part where Brian wasn’t allowed to leave, all the windows had bars, and the guards at the gates wore big guns.

  She told Brian he looked good and he told her she did as well.

  He looked over his shoulder, pulled her close, holding her hand on the table and said, “Kind of bow your head a little. Make it look like we’re praying.”

 
Talia tried to pull away, but he held her there. “Come on. The guards love this shit.”

  “Brian, really?” she whispered. “I think faking it is a bigger sin than not doing it at all.”

  “This isn’t about sinning. It’s about how the guards treat the guys who are into God better than they treat the rest of us.” He winked at her before saying in a much louder voice, “Amen.”

  She felt a little sick. Pretender. Liarhead. “That’s just not right.”

  “What’s not right is me in here and people who did a lot worse than me are still out there. What’s not right is my own sister won’t even sneak some ribs or BBQ in here for me.”

  Talia stood up to leave.

  “Sit back down. I’m sorry. Come on.”

  She sat. She didn’t always like her brother, but she did love him. People change when locked up. She bet Kate Hunter could tell her all about the psychology behind that.

  “Tell me about work,” he said, “and about the new boyfriend.”

  She told him a few stories about dirty mouths and scared patients. One old man had locked himself in the bathroom because he didn’t want a root canal. It took an hour for his wife to talk him out. He left without the procedure.

  Talia noticed that Brian kept looking over her right shoulder as she spoke. She turned to see what he was looking at. At the table behind them, a young man and woman sat close, holding hands and talking. They looked utterly sweet and in love.

  “And the guy you’re dating?” Brian asked.

  “History,” Talia lied. “He wasn’t really my type and I got bored so I broke up with him.”

  “Do I need to arrange retaliation against him for anything?”

  “No, don’t worry. I broke his heart.” She wondered if he could reach out and touch someone from inside the prison. She looked him over. He smiled at her and she thought no, he was all talk. That was probably how he handled being incarcerated, by trying to feel like he was still in control of his life.