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Authors: J. M. Redmann

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BOOK: Deaths of Jocasta
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“I roamed, I wandered, I wondered what would become of me. Then I saw this very interesting group of women go into a bar. I must have walked around that block at least ten times before I summoned the courage to go in.

“It was filled with women. Only women.

“And what had seemed impossible in that het bar, to pick up some strange man and go home with him, seemed possible here. Except in straight bars, men made the advances. I stood around for about an hour, hoping someone would at least come and talk to me, but it didn’t happen. And I kept giving myself all these little pep talks. Just go up and say hi. Ask for the time, my watch had stopped. I’d take a step or two, then falter. No, she’s with someone. No, she’s going to the bathroom. Any port in my storm. And I kept hoping some woman would come up and talk to me.

“I finally got what I wanted. A—I’m sorry, I know this is politically incorrect—bull dyke was suddenly standing less than six inches in front of me. Cigarette hanging out of her mouth, beer on her breath. My dream date. She took a step in and I took a step back until I was backed against the wall. ‘Hi,’ she said—I was relived to know she could talk—‘wanna dance?’

“I couldn’t dance with her. I’d asphyxiate on the alcohol and smoke on her breath. I do remember vaguely saying some sort of no, but she wasn’t in the mood for negatives. She flung a paw around my shoulder and pulled me to the dance floor. I bumped into this tall, dark woman that I had noticed earlier, causing her to glance in my direction.

“And, being desperate, not to mention light-headed from the beer breath, I said, ‘It’s about time you got here.’

“She burst out laughing, then winked at me and said, ‘Get your hands off my girlfriend. She dances with me or nobody.’”

Alex looked at me again. She had obviously gotten the pertinent details from Danny, who, I had to admit, was doing a very good job of keeping a poker face.

“Tall, dark, and handsome led me across the dance floor. From a nightmare to a fantasy. We danced a few times, including a slow one for appearance’s sake, she told me. Slow enough to get my pants wet. Then she said, ‘Let’s go,’ and she led me out of the bar. We were walking down the streets in the Village and I had no idea where I was. And I suddenly had these images of headlines blaring, ‘Vassar Senior Strangled by Lesbian Maniac.’ This woman was tall, a good eight inches over me. I didn’t have much of a chance.

“Then she asked me where I lived and said she’d escort me home, making me feel a bit foolish. I explained my missed train predicament. And she very politely offered to let me crash at her place. I agreed because I’d detected a hint of a Southern accent. I knew Southern girls wouldn’t be lesbian sex maniacs.”

“So it was you, huh, Mick?” Danny asked as if she wasn’t in on the whole thing.

“Of course,” I replied. “Who else could possibly have the stamina to sleep with both you and Alex?”

“To continue,” Alex continued, “we walked a bit more. She was chatting, in that Southern fashion, about this and that, pointing out where Stonewall had been. And this lightbulb went on in my head. I was being taken to this gorgeous woman’s apartment.

“Then she led me into the subway and I began to wonder if I’d met the first Southern lesbian maniac. At some point she noticed how nervous I was. Maybe it was my saying Hail Marys and not being Catholic that tipped her off. She said she never worried about being in the subway alone. Only if there were other people did she worry. It was only me, her, and some wino asleep on the bench in the station.

“So we were standing there waiting for the train and I found myself looking up at this woman, thinking, God, she has beautiful eyes. Then she bent down, moving slowly, and I knew she was going to kiss me. And I didn’t even know her name. Just as she started to kiss me, an express train roared by. I jumped back, startled by the noise and the idea of all those people on that train watching me kiss another woman in a subway station.”

I sat up. A scrap of memory intruded. I had kissed a woman in the Christopher Street station and she had jumped away. I looked at Alex. Different haircut, different glasses…but she could have been Alex. I surreptitiously glanced around the table, but people were watching Alex as she told her story. Could I have mentioned enough of the details for Danny to have passed them on to Alex? This being true wasn’t possible.

“…and we were passing Eighty-sixth street and I’m thinking, I’m going to the Bronx. After Ninety-sixth, I had to ask, because I was beyond Hail Marys. She replied, ‘Relax, we’re going to my dorm at Barnard.’ Relief. We finally left the subway.”

And I remembered the woman, saying, “Hi, I’m Alex. I just thought it might be a good idea to introduce myself.” Embarrassment descended with a vengeance. I
had
slept with Alex.

I glanced around the table again. Joanne was looking at me. Then Danny caught Joanne looking and she stared at me, too, followed by Elly. I could imagine the look on my face. Alex paused, noticing that her listeners’ attention had been diverted.

“Is it that dress, Mick, or are you blushing?” Danny gleefully asked. “Naw, that’s not possible.”

“Alex, I’m so embarrassed,” I said.

“Why?” she replied. “I had a good time.”

“Did you? I hope so,” I answered, trying desperately to dig up a few more details from my faulty memory.

“Yeah,” Alex answered again. “Didn’t you?”

I couldn’t remember. I tried to picture us having sex, but the images blurred.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” I said very softly. “I don’t…remember.” I suddenly felt sad and empty. Why hadn’t I been present then? How many other women had I taken in a drunken or drugged fog? “I’m sorry, Alex,” I repeated quietly. “I should have remembered.”

“What was that, Mick?” Danny inquired. “Couldn’t hear you at this end of the table.”

“I said, Elly, did you throw out those dental dams I left in the back seat of your car?”

“Very funny,” Danny replied.

“Gosh, I hope so.” Elly winked at me.

“Could we hear the end of your story, Alex?” Cordelia asked.

“Being a proper Southern girl,” Alex continued, “Micky offered to let me have the bed and she would sleep on the floor. Of course, being a proper Southern lady myself, I couldn’t allow it. Being a typical college cot, the sleeping space was immediately intimate. Then she…you started kissing me. And like a fool, I decided to be honest, so I said I’d never done anything like this before. And you rolled over and said, ‘Okay, we don’t have to do anything.’”

“And?” Danny asked.

“Having a big mouth helps out in situations like this, because I immediately blurted out, but I want to do something. Then we did a lot of things. And I learned the virtues of keeping my mouth open and not saying anything.”

“Congratulations, Alex, on a memorable first time,” I said, sardonically raising my glass. I was upset.

“For at least one of you,” Danny couldn’t resist adding.

Damn, Danny and her needling. It suddenly occurred to me that I might find it amusing, too, if I were drunk.

“Okay, Micky, now I want to hear about your first time,” Alex said.

“If she can remember,” Danny interjected.

“How about a break for the bathroom?” Cordelia suggested.

“Come on, Elly,” I said, standing up. “Let’s get it over with. We can do it while they pee.” I was trying to annoy Danny.

“No way,” Danny answered for her. “Take Cordelia.”

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Cordelia replied.

“Hey, golden showers, Mick’ll go for that,” Danny said.

“Yeah, you taught me,” I retorted.

“Bullshit! We never did that,” Danny responded.

“Have you forgotten?” I said.

“I don’t forget the things I do in bed,” Danny chided.

I sat on the side of Elly’s chair and put my arm around her shoulders. “You want to do some forgettable things?”

Danny shook her head and looked away, pretending to ignore us. I let my hand slide down toward Elly’s breast. Danny couldn’t ignore that. Elly took my hand, holding it where it was. She looked at me.

“We like you, Micky,” she stated simply.

You’re playing an ugly game, I thought, and not one I could continue after Elly’s statement. My belligerent advance turned into a friendly hug.

“I like you, Elly,” I responded. Then I got up and hugged Danny.

“You, too, Danno. I just wish you would forget a little more and I could remember more.”

“Might not be a bad idea,” Danny admitted, returning my hug. “But, Mick, that red dress is an awfully tempting target for us bull-headed people.”

“My favorite bull…” I started.

Cordelia, Alex, and Joanne returned from the bathroom.

“Okay, women,” Alex said, taking her seat. “Now the one we’ve all been waiting for. The first sexual experience of Michele Knight.”

“Don’t get your expectations too high,” I said. “Well,” I began, then faltered. “Okay. My sophomore year…”

“I beg your pardon,” Danny interrupted. “I remember women in your freshman year.”

“…in high school,” I continued.

“High school?” Joanne raised an eyebrow.

“High school,” I confirmed. “I had gym sixth period. A mixed class, freshmen through seniors. One of the seniors, Misty, started joking around with me. She joked with everyone, actually, but I answered her back. She was the head cheerleader and very popular, and I was a gawky sophomore.

“One day after school, I was waiting for the bus, when she drove by, then stopped and asked if I wanted a ride. She drove me to the burger place where I worked. And after that she started giving me rides fairly regularly.

“Misty was dating Ned, the captain of the football team. A few weeks later, during lunch, his best friend Brian asked me for a date. So on Saturday, Ned, Misty, and Brian picked me up after work, and we went out for a pizza.

“The next weekend it was unseasonably warm, and Misty suggested that we all go swimming. I made up some line for Aunt Greta and early Saturday morning the four of us headed off for some creek up around Bogalusa. It was in the middle of nowhere. Ned had discovered it on a scouting trip. We parked the car and hiked down to the creek.

“Ned and Brian took off downstream. Misty and I waded upstream for a bit and found a grassy place to sit down. We sat there talking for a while. Then she asked me if I’d ever really been kissed. I hadn’t. She asked me if I wanted to learn how to kiss.

“I think I said something like not yet, that I wasn’t really interested in that kind of stuff. I was worried that we were out here to fool around. With the boys, I mean. I really didn’t want to do that. We circled around for a while, her inquisitive, me diffident, until I finally told her I liked Brian, but I wasn’t ready for sex.

“Misty told me not to worry, that Ned and Brian were absolute gentlemen and they wouldn’t lay a finger on us.

“I suppose I need to mention that at this point I didn’t know anything about sex. Only what I’d seen in the movies and some vague whispers in the girls’ locker room.” And what I’d learned from Bayard, but I was still too ashamed to bring that out in front of everyone. “I kind of knew that if boys and girls went off together, the girl often ended up pregnant. And that wasn’t good for the girl.

“Then Misty asked if I wanted to try kissing with her, just to see what it felt like.

“What harm could there be in two girls kissing, I figured. I didn’t even know enough to know it might be considered perverse.

“So Misty kissed me. She told me that that was a regular kiss. Then she said ‘this is a french kiss’ and she started french kissing me. Then she told me to lie down and she got on top of me, still kissing the hell out of me. Then she said ‘this is petting’ and she put her hand on my breast, eventually working her way inside my swimsuit.

“And…this is embarrassing…some where around this point, I suddenly jumped up because I was sure I’d gotten my period. I was, well, wet between the legs. I told Misty and she said she had a tampon if I needed it. Which didn’t really help because I’d never used a tampon before. Like I said, ignorant.

“I pulled off my bathing suit bottom, I didn’t want to get it bloody. Misty said let me look and she pushed my legs apart and was staring at…well. Then she sort of chuckled and told me I didn’t have my period.

“I couldn’t believe I was that…damp down there and not having my period. So I put my finger there and came up with this clear liquid. I wondered what had gone wrong and why Misty thought it was so funny.

“Then she pushed me back down and got on top of me. She told me that it was lubrication and she would show me what it was for. She slid her fingers in and…well, you know.

“After it was all over—she had guided me to do her—I remember feeling stunned and vaguely ashamed. I knew it had to do with sex, we had been touching each other down there. And that it wasn’t something I could talk about with anyone else. And even if I did want to talk about it, I…couldn’t name what had happened. I’d never heard the word ‘homosexual,’ let alone ‘lesbian’ before.

“Misty and I kept seeing each other. I don’t know if ‘seeing’ is the right word, but, anyway, she’d pick me up after work and we’d drive to some secluded spot, usually behind the garage at her parents’ house and we’d do it. I always felt…guilty about it… So that’s how I lost it.” I ended abruptly. I noticed I had peeled and shredded the entire label off Cordelia’s beer bottle.

BOOK: Deaths of Jocasta
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