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The Black Flamingo

Page 12

by Dean Atta


  and she was telling us about a gay club

  that plays hip-hop, R and B, dancehall,

  and Afrobeat. Kim said it’s basically a black

  gay club. She’s going tonight and I

  said Sienna and I would go along. Kim’s driving

  back to London. Do you wanna come?

  It will be me, you, Sienna, and Kim.”

  “Please come, Mike!” says Sienna,

  in the background.

  “Since when have you been making plans

  with Sienna?” I ask Lennie.

  “Since you went AWOL,” Lennie replies.

  He’s right, I’ve not been a good friend lately.

  I’ve been self-absorbed.

  “Can I invite someone else?” I ask.

  “Hold on,” says Lennie,

  and the phone goes silent,

  then, “Yeah, Kim says there’s space

  for one more in the car.”

  “They’re in London already,” I reply.

  “Remember I told you about my friend Daisy?”

  “Daisy? Oh, yeah. She has a girlfriend, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s a shame, she sounded like

  my cousin’s type.”

  I hear Sienna and another girl, who must be Kim,

  laughing.

  “I’ll text you Kim’s address and Daisy can

  meet us there at . . .” Lennie pauses.

  “Nine,” says Kim.

  “Nine,” repeats Lennie. “Come to mine ASAP.”

  MICHAEL: I’m in London tonight!

  DAISY: Yaaaay!!!! Will you be at your mum’s?

  MICHAEL: No. I’m going to a club with friends from uni. Wanna come?

  DAISY: Which club? Where is it?

  MICHAEL: I don’t know. We’re meeting at 9 at someone’s flat. I’ll send you the address

  DAISY: But what kind of club? What music?

  MICHAEL: Black gay. R & B hip-hop

  DAISY: You know I can’t dance to that!

  MICHAEL: Just come! It will be fun!

  DAISY: Will you protect me from the lesbians?

  MICHAEL:

  In the queue for the club, it’s me,

  Daisy, Sienna, Lennie, and Lennie’s cousin

  Kim. We had pre-drinks at Kim’s flat

  and everyone is getting on.

  Looking down the queue, I realize

  I’m a bit too smartly dressed for this place.

  I’m wearing the pink shirt, black trousers,

  and black shoes that Mum bought me.

  Daisy is wearing a sequin rainbow dress.

  Kim, who is softly spoken and petite,

  is wearing an oversized black tracksuit

  and fitted cap, and looks like a teenage boy.

  Sienna asked her earlier if she’s a trans man,

  to which she replied, “Nah, I’m a soft butch.”

  Sienna is wearing her green dress

  and Lennie is wearing his green tracksuit.

  We get into the club and there’s a lot

  of people dressed like Kim. But

  there are also people of all shapes and sizes

  in tight, figure-hugging dresses

  and short shorts with crop tops

  showing off flat stomachs, abs,

  and bouncing bellies. It’s beautiful!

  Most of the people are black. Everyone

  is dancing. It’s not a song I recognize but

  I feel the beat and nod my head to it.

  “Let’s get a round of drinks,” says Lennie.

  “Good idea,” replies Sienna. “To the bar!”

  And we all move toward it together,

  all except for Kim, who has disappeared.

  I’m looking into the crowd for her when

  I see him. But I must be imagining this.

  Wishful thinking. It couldn’t possibly be.

  “Daisy, Daisy, look over there! You see

  that person doing the headstand? Over

  there? Behind them there’s a person

  with green hair. To the left of them. See?”

  “No! It can’t be!” says Daisy, gripping my

  arm, as we stare into our recent past together.

  “It looks like him, doesn’t it?” I say. And

  for a second I think he’s looking back in our

  direction.

  “Yeah,” says Daisy, “but even if it is, you

  can’t assume he’s gay just because

  he’s here. He could just be here with

  friends.” She points at Lennie and Sienna

  kissing by the bar.

  We’re both watching him intently.

  “Did he get hotter?” asks Daisy.

  “No,” I reply. “He looks exactly the same.

  Maybe you’re just less racist now?”

  “Oh my god, Michael, you’re such

  a bitch. What’s happened to you at uni?”

  I don’t know how to begin answering that.

  I continue watching as he says something

  to the person with green hair,

  then disappears in the crowd.

  If Daisy hadn’t seen him too,

  I wouldn’t have believed this.

  “Mikey, here’s your drink,” says Lennie,

  handing me what I assume must be a rum

  and Coke, carrying on from what we were

  drinking at Kim’s flat. “Who are you two

  checking out?”

  “He’s gone. We thought we saw a guy

  we both went to school with. But I can’t see

  him now.”

  My face must be showing all my emotion

  because Lennie asks, “Why don’t you go

  look for him? Where did you last see him?”

  I think of school and him

  waving at me from the soccer cage.

  “It’s too packed in here to find anyone.

  We’ve already lost your cousin.”

  Lennie laughs. “Kim’s not lost, she’s

  in there, exactly where she wants

  to be, trust me. She’s a ladies’ man.

  The stories she’s told me. She’s a player.

  A real heartbreaker.”

  I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Excuse me,”

  he says, close to my ear, and I turn to him.

  “Michael? You’ve cut your hair, but I recognized

  you from all the way over there.”

  Kieran is wearing a tight black top and I

  can see the outline of his pecs and the top

  of his abs. His jeans are black and tight,

  his shoes are black boots, maybe suede.

  “Kieran, yeah, hi. Remember Daisy?”

  I’m nervous, I don’t know what to say to him.

  “Yeah, of course, you were always together.”

  He opens his arms and hugs Daisy

  and I’m jealous that she got to hug him first.

  I blurt out without thinking, “Can I get a hug?”

  He smiles. “I’ve got a better idea—

  how about a dance?” He winks.

  “Why not give this brother a chance?”

  I hand Daisy my rum and Coke

  and take Kieran’s hand.

  He leads me to the dance floor.

  Beyoncé’s “Sweet Dreams” is playing now.

  Dancing with Kieran is better than a dream.

  He puts his hands on my waist

  and pulls me toward him.

  He bends both his legs to bring his groin

  in line with mine

  and we sway side to side,

  finding a mutual rhythm.

  His right hand leaves my waist

  and then it’s stroking the side of my face.

  I lean my head into his hand.

  I once saw him knock someone out

  with this hand. He lifts my chin

  and he leans in and kisses me,

  so s
oftly, no tongues. Just a peck.

  Then he leans back and smiles.

  Puts his right hand on my waist again.

  Kieran from school.

  Kieran who I watched playing soccer

  in PE and at lunchtime.

  Kieran who was kind to me,

  always so kind. Was this the reason why?

  Does it matter now?

  “Kieran!” comes a voice from behind me.

  “Kieran!” comes the voice again. Now

  I see who it belongs to: the girl with green hair.

  “Kieran, your sister is outside throwing up.

  I’m ordering a taxi now.” Clicking her fingers

  on the word “now.”

  His hands drop from my waist.

  “Oh! Shit!” says Kieran. “All right, I’m coming.

  Just gimme a minute.”

  “Okay, you have literally one minute.” And

  she stands there with her arms crossed.

  “Why don’t you give me your number?”

  I say, handing Kieran my phone. I can feel

  the Death Stare of Miss Green Hair.

  “Yeah. Cool,” says Kieran as he types

  his number into my phone. He hands it back.

  Miss Green Hair claps her hands together

  once on the word “Wonderful!” as sarcastic

  as she can be. “Now, let’s go, Kieran.”

  She pulls him through the crowd. And I’m just

  thinking: Miss Green Hair is so fierce!

  I look to where my friends are by the bar.

  None of them are looking in my direction.

  So I head the opposite way to the toilet.

  I lock myself in a cubicle and write a poem

  in my phone.

  I Wanna Be Fierce

  I’ve been friendly.

  I’ve been frightened.

  I’ve been fake.

  But I’ve never been fierce.

  I’ve been frustrated.

  I’ve been forgotten.

  I’ve been forgiving.

  But I’ve never been fierce.

  I wanna be fabulous.

  I wanna be flamboyant.

  I wanna flaunt what I’ve got.

  I want to be fierce.

  I go back to the group.

  “I’m gonna go,” I say to whoever is listening.

  Lennie looks at me sympathetically.

  “Mikey, what happened with that guy?”

  “It was nice,” I say, “but he had to go.

  And I’m not feeling this place anymore.”

  Sienna says, “Well, we were just talking

  about heading back to Kim’s.”

  As soon as we get in the taxi, I fall asleep

  on Sienna’s shoulder.

  “Not all angels have white wings,”

  says The Black Flamingo in my dream.

  I am also a black flamingo

  in this dream. The two of us are

  standing on the pebbles

  of Brighton Beach. The sea foam

  laps at our webbed feet.

  Seagulls circle above.

  “Who are you?”

  I ask, taking one, two steps closer.

  “Michael Brown,”

  says The Black Flamingo, unmoved.

  “Michael Angeli,”

  I reply, spreading my wings.

  “Mikey,”

  says The Black Flamingo,

  spreading his to match mine.

  “Michalis,” I squawk.

  “Mike,” he squawks back.

  We peck at each other,

  locking beaks once, twice.

  The seagulls are laughing.

  We back away slowly and fold

  our wings.

  I wake up.

  Shit!

  I’m meant to be on campus this morning

  handing out flyers. It’s Drag Soc’s show tonight.

  I leap up off the sofa, step over Lennie

  and Sienna on the floor. Pat myself down:

  Where’s my phone?

  Step back over the sleeping couple

  and search between the sofa cushions.

  Found it!

  I run out of the door, to the Tube,

  to get to London Victoria station

  and on a train back to Brighton.

  KATY: Do you still need help this morning?

  KATY: Rise and shine!

  KATY: On my way to help with your makeup

  KATY: I’m outside

  KATY: Where are you?

  KATY: I’ve gone back to mine to get ready

  KATY: See you at Library Square?

  KATY: Are you okay?

  KATY: Are you still coming today?

  KATY: Let me know that you’re all right

  KATY: Mzz B is asking me where you are

  KATY: ??

  MICHAEL: Katy! Tell everyone I’m so sorry!

  KATY: What happened?

  MICHAEL: I went to London last night

  But I’m on my way back now

  I won’t be in drag but I’ll give out flyers

  KATY: OK. I’ll tell Mzz B you’re on your way

  MICHAEL:

  MICHAEL: You awake? I’m on the train to uni

  DAISY: Yeah. You okay? How was Kim’s?

  MICHAEL: I fell asleep in the taxi

  Then I woke up there this morning

  DAISY: We were all drunk

  MICHAEL: Was Kieran really there?

  DAISY: Yeah! Don’t you remember?

  MICHAEL: Kind of. But remind me?

  DAISY: You danced. You kissed!!!!!

  MICHAEL: You saw?

  DAISY: Yeah! It was so cute!

  MICHAEL: Do you think I should text him?

  DAISY: Obviously

  MICHAEL: What should I say?

  DAISY: Just say, “Hey, it’s Michael”

  MICHAEL:

  MICHAEL: Hey, it’s Michael

  The whole of Drag Soc is meant to be

  in costume in front of the library.

  Everyone is but me. I’m two hours late.

  Mzz B is more than disappointed when

  they see me.

  “Save your excuses. Just hand these out,”

  they say, pushing the pile of flyers

  into my chest. They shake their head

  and turn away.

  They go to the portable sound system

  and pick up the microphone. “Tonight,

  Drag Soc presents Glitter Ball, the most

  fabulous show you will ever experience.

  These amazing drag kings and queens

  will entertain and educate you in a way

  that the books in this library could never do.”

  Katy says,

  “Don’t worry, I understand how intimidating

  doing drag for the first time in public can be.”

  I tell Katy,

  “Honestly, I was gonna do it

  but I had the craziest night.

  I met a guy who I

  had the biggest crush on in school

  but I never thought was gay.

  He loved soccer and fighting

  and, well, that was it, really.

  I never thought he’d be into me.”

  Katy says,

  “Did I ever tell you about how much

  of a controversy it was when David Beckham

  wore a sarong, a skirt essentially, in 1998?”

  I look at Katy, confused.

  “I wasn’t born then, neither were you.”

  I look at her: England soccer uniform,

  fake stubble, hair in cornrows;

  she really does look like the photos

  I saw online of nineties David Beckham.

  I think of Kieran.

  Is he gonna message back?

  I think of Justin Fashanu,

  the first openly gay

  professional soccer player.

  I think of how my sister

 
could wear my clothes

  and play with my toys,

  and it doesn’t seem fair.

  MICHAEL: Hey, it’s Michael

  Mzz B comes over and says,

  “There’s always next term,

  if you don’t feel ready for tonight.”

  “I am ready!” I exclaim.

  Mzz B looks me up and down

  and raises an eyebrow.

  “I mean, I’m not ready right now

  but I will be tonight.”

  I see Simon and Mia

  enter Library Square;

  they don’t notice me

  at first and I’m relieved.

  But I’m with a group

  of drag performers

  in their full costumes.

  They see them

  and me, the plain-clothed accomplice.

  Mia is friendly in a way

  that makes it clear she knows

  what happened

  between Jack and me.

  Simon holds out his hand

  for a handshake.

  I place a flyer in his palm.

  Mia says, taking the flyer

  from Simon, “OMG, yes!

  I love drag!”

  Simon plays it cool.

  “Sure, we’ll all come along.”

  He says, “Jack’s here

  for the weekend.”

  I look behind them

  and then behind me,

  expecting to see

  Jack.

  “Relax,” says Simon.

  “He’s still asleep on my sofa.”

  My palms feel sweaty,

  I grip the flyers tighter, so as not to drop them.

  I pause to compose myself.

  “Sure. Feel free to bring him,

  if you like.”

  MICHAEL: Hey, it’s Michael

  KIERAN: Hey, Michael! You good?

  I see Lennie and Sienna

  enter Library Square,

  they are hand in hand.

  They come straight over to me.

  “Well, look who it is,” says Sienna.

  “I don’t see anyone,” says Lennie.

  “Oh, you’re right. I thought I saw Mike

  but he must have disappeared again.”

  I roll my eyes. I think they rehearsed this.

  “I’m sorry, guys. I had to get back here.

  You were asleep.”

  “You could’ve texted,” says Lennie. “Kim

  was calling you my rude friend who didn’t say

  goodbye or thank you.”

  “Really?!” I feel mortified. “Will you call Kim

 

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