Confessions of a Transylvanian (42 page)

In the interim between first seeing Charley in her transvestite getup in the parking lot and her first appearance on stage, the full impact of being in her presence had diminished significantly.

But as I lay on the floor at the conclusion of “The Time Warp” and heard the opening beats of “Sweet Transvestite,” the anticipation began to grow anew. I could just make out Charle
y’
s tiny frame, off in the corner, facing the wall, her black cape swirled around her tiny shoulders. She was stomping her foot to the beat of the song while Tracey and Ron backed slowly toward her.

On screen, Brad and Janet are oblivious to the fact that, just behind them, Fran
k’
s elevator is creeping slowly down toward the first floor. When it gets to the bottom, Janet is the first to spy Frank through the gated door and reacts noiselessly, her eyes wide and her mouth agape in horror. Brad remains blissfully unaware of Fran
k’
s presence until, quite suddenly, the gate to the elevator flies open, Frank swirls around and Janet, screaming in terror, faints to the floor.

On our stage, Ron, as Brad, prattled on obliviously as Trace
y’
s Janet slowly turned, pretended to see Frank through the elevator door, and silently began to freak out. Then the power chord struck, Tracey let out her scream and Charley whipped around.

Every Frank-N-Furter brings their own, special essence to the role. Mar
k’
s Frank had been a study in complete transformation. He simply embodied the character that Curry had created for the film. Boyd, on the other hand, was entirely his own person, a Frank-hybrid, if you will. He was still Frank, of course, but he added, as a bonus, his not-quite-in-focus view of the world as well. Bill
y’
s was more of a conventional impersonation, the straight guy playing the transsexual (but all in good fun).

Charle
y’
s Frank, however, was something else entirely.

When she flashed her laser eyes on Ron that night, I was half-expecting him to leap back in terror. Because if Charley brought anything to the role of Frank-N-Furter that I had never seen before, it was this:

Danger
.

Charle
y’
s Frank was
n’
t simply sexy, she was
predatory
. This was a slinky, smoki
n’
hot praying mantis that would happily welcome you to her bed, fuck your brains out, and then rip off and consume your goddamn head as a finale.

Charley finished the first couple of lines of the song and started trotting away toward Fran
k’
s throne at center stage, singing all the while. When she reached the throne, she whirled around again and struck a seductive pose. “
I’
m not much of a man by the light of day,” she sang. “But by night
I’
m one hell of a lover.” At this point, Charley smiled seductively, stepped forward and, with a flourish, threw off the cape.

Now, I knew that this girl only stood about five-foot-four in her stocking feet. She was this petite, little thing in real life. But on stage, at this moment, she looked like an Amazon. Standing there in her black corset, slinky underwear and thigh-high see-through stockings, she was the living embodiment of towering sexual desire.

Still, despite her obvious attractive qualities (and there were plenty of them), your first instinct upon seeing her was, inexplicably, to back away. This was not someone to enfold lovingly in your arms. The vibe that came off her was less “potential sex partner” and more “ravenous feral beast.”

The crowd, predictably, was going bananas. Guys who normally refrain from cheering too loudly at Fran
k’
s entrance (for fear of appearing attracted to a dude) were now hooting lustily. By the time she climbed back into the “elevator” and disappeared at the end of the song, everyone in the room, men and women alike, mourned her absence.

Well, almost everyone. Because as each minute of the film ticked by, we got closer and closer to…The Scene. All eyes, when they were
n’
t glued to Charley, were fixed on Ron. And he already looked like he wanted to jump out a window.

Generally speaking, the members of the cast (at least those of us who had been doing the show for months) did
n’
t usually watch the entire movie. W
e’
d participate in our scenes and then, during a break, w
e’
d run to the bathroom, maybe make a phone call from the lobby, nip out to have a smoke. As long as you did
n’
t miss your next entrance, you could do whatever you wanted.

Tonight, our eyes were riveted to the stage show. Even after the Rocky/Frank wedding scene, when most of the cast was done for the night (the Transylvanians having completed all that was required of them), nobody left the theater. The entertainment on hand was just too good to miss.

Charley was taking the role of Frank-N-Furter to new heights (or depths, depending on your perspective). She slinked her way around the lab, she fondled Rocky with obvious relish…every scene had an extra dash of red-hot spiciness that the guys who regularly played the role simply could not provide. At least not from where I was sitting.

Finally, the Narrator appeared and announced that Brad and Janet were being shown to their separate rooms. We were now three scenes away from Ron and Charle
y’
s long-awaited face-off and the suspense was delectable.

First, though, it was Trace
y’
s turn. Charley, playing Frank (who, in turn, was playing “Brad”), rushes into the darkly lit chamber and climbs into bed with Trace
y’
s Janet, supposedly to seek comfort for the night. They were bathed, thanks to To
m’
s spotlight, in a pink glow. Soon, the two are locked in an embrace and, as events proceed, Janet offers no resistance until...surprise! Janet pulls off Fran
k’
s wig and discovers that he has been masquerading as her fiancé. Frank, undaunted, continues to encourage her to give in to him and, after receiving the assurance that Brad will never know the truth, Janet succumbs.

Seeing Charley climb on top of Tracey and seduce her was great fun, of course, but it was only the appetizer. The main course was only a minute away.

Slam cut, on the screen, to Riff and Magenta cleaning up the lab. This is the scene where Riff chases Rocky down the elevator shaft and gets a little elbow sex, but no one was paying any attention to the players on stage. Knowing what was coming next, our full focus shifted to Ron. He stood, wearing a blue bathrobe, a pair of white briefs, white socks, dark shoes, and a forlorn expression.

Steeling himself, he strode up the ramp toward the bottom of the screen, lay down in his accustomed spot for the bedroom scene (where Tracey had been writhing about only a few moments before) and awaited his fate.

He lay as still as a corpse. He did
n’
t look around in expectation or alarm, or appear panicked or distraught. Instead, he seemed resigned, ready to accept whatever came. Then Riff laid a big smackeroo on Magent
a’
s neck, she moaned in delight, the spotlight switched to blue and…

....it was time.

An hour or so later, when the lights came up after the show, I looked around for him but...Ron was gone. I helped put the props away, asking everyone I saw where he could be. Nothing. He had just disappeared.

Giving up the hunt, I was stepping into Stev
e’
s car to head over to Denn
y’
s when I spotted Ro
n’
s car parked on the other side of the movie house, partially hidden. I could just make out a figure in the front seat.

I told Steve to head over to the restaurant without me and made my way over. Sure enough, there was Ron, sitting behind the wheel, staring through the windshield with an odd look of disbelief on his face.

I rapped on the passenge
r’
s side, trying to snap him out of his trance, but he did
n’
t seem startled. It was like he was expecting me. He reached over and flicked the lock and I got into the car.

We sat, wordless, for a few seconds. And then for a few seconds more.

“So,” I finally offered. “What was that like?”

Ro
n’
s eyes slid over to me and, after a beat, he said: “Lemme ask you something. What could you see?”

I thought back, searching my memory for any abnormality in the scene. At last, I simply said, “Not much, actually. I do
n’
t know what I was expecting but...it looked pretty much like it does every night.”

“Really?” he said. He looked relieved. “Tha
t’
s good.”

“I guess that means...nothing happened. Right?”

He allowed himself a sideways smile. “Not quite.”

“So...what? What did she do?”

Ron shook his head like he was
n’
t going to tell me, but then just as quickly changed his mind.

“Okay, look. Le
t’
s get something straight right off the bat. Tha
t’
s a hard scene to feel sexy in to begin with, all right? I mean, when yo
u’
re dressed like I am...in the robe, the tighty-whities, the socks and shoes...yo
u’
re not exactly feeling like Casanova, you know?”

I interrupted him. “Hey,
I’
ve been meaning to ask you—Why the
shoes
? Brad just wears his socks in the movie. Wha
t’
s up with that?”

“Tha
t’
s self-preservation, brother. I played him without the shoes when first I started out. Ran around a movie theater in just my socks one night. It was fucking disgusting. I wanted surgical gloves to take the things off when I was done. It was
toxic
. After that, it was socks and shoes all the way.”

“Aha. Insider Brad info. Got it. Go on.”

“Well...you know the scene in the bedroom, how it goes. Frank gets in, snuggles up to me, we start to kiss. Then the wig comes off and I jump back. So tonight, the same thing happens with me and Charley but...about two seconds after she climbs on top of me, I see her reach for my underwear. And I think,
‘
Oh, shit. Here we go
.’
Luckily, the timing is perfect so I pull off her
‘
Jane
t’
wig and jump back like
I’
m supposed to.

“Trouble is, I was not quite as quick as she was. Somehow, her index finger had hooked the top of my waistband, so when I jumped back...I made
another
entrance.”

Ron looked over at me to make sure I fully understood and I nodded. I could picture it in my mind, but from where I had been sitting earlier, I could
n’
t see it from the house. His robe had covered everything.

“You mean...you were
at attention
? Right there?”

At this, Ron shifted a bit in his seat uncomfortably. “Well, no. Not at
attention
. How could I be? It was freezing in there.”

I frowned slightly. It had
not
been cold in the theater. It never was. I almost contradicted him on this point but, it was
n’
t my story so who was I to argue?

“Besides, I was in character, right?
I’
m not
supposed
to be turned on by the whole thing, you know?”

“Oh, sure. Absolutely,” I said in an understanding tone. I did
n’
t really understand him at all, but I thought it nice to pretend that I did.

“Plus...” he said uncomfortably, “she had this...
look
on her face.”

And then I got it. I knew exactly what he meant. I had seen the look myself and it had just as efficiently unmanned me. It was the look of the man-eater. The Piranha.

“I hear you loud and clear, brother,” I told him. “Believe me.”

“It was unreal, Jack. There I am, lying in front of this sexy, hot little nympho wh
o’
s just ready to go to town, waiting for me to step up and...I got nothing. It was exactly what I was worried would happen.”

I felt terrible for him and thought it my fraternal duty to try to comfort him. “Hey, big deal. I
t’
s over. Forget all about it.”

“Oh, you think tha
t’
s the end of the story?” He laughed. “No way.
I’
m not done. Not
near
done. Because when she sees wha
t’
s going on downstairs...”

“You mean, wha
t’
s
not
going on.”

“Yeah, thanks a lot. Anyway, when she sees that Mr. Happy is
n’
t paying her the proper attention, Charley decides...sh
e’
s going to help.”

“Holy shit.”

“Uh-huh. So when Frank starts kissing Brad, making his way down his chest and toward his nether regions, Charley starts doing the same to me. Sh
e’
s nibbling my neck, she licks my chest...she fucking bit my nipple, Jack.”

“Wow. So did it work?”

“No, it did
n’
t fucking
work
. It was horrifying! I think I actually got
smaller
.”