All Good Women (17 page)

Teddy felt an ache in her chest. Was it the smoke, was it the explosive ‘South American Way' blaring from the jukebox or was it this slim warning about being visible as one of ‘those girls'? It had never occurred to her that she would be ‘caught' here. This seemed so separate from home and work, as if she had gone to Mars for the evening. Why did it matter to other people? Mr Whitney caroused at the Steer Inn bar with the guys after work. Why couldn't she go out on Saturday with Sandra and Dawn? She wondered what Moira and Ann and Wanda would think of Gretta. She found herself looking down at the table and breathing rapidly.

‘Dawn, look what you've done to the girl, thrown her into a tizzy and we only just got here. Don't make it sound deadly. It's not like Gretta has a direct line to the cop shop.' She patted Teddy's hand. ‘You just relax and don't let our darkest Dawn fuss you none, understand?'

Before Teddy had a chance to reply, two women hurried over to their table.

‘Mary Ellen and Hannah!' whooped Sandra. Teddy tried to ignore the implications of their previous conversation — police, loyalty, subterfuge — by concentrating on the two new girls. Mary Ellen was a pretty Negro with elegant curls shining down her back. Her luminous round face was further brightened by a smear of carmine lipstick. Hannah was almost unidentifiable as female — a tall, white woman with close-cropped hair, she wore slacks and a pin-striped shirt. The four women seemed close friends. Teddy remembered something Dawn had said over lunch about the Quiet Cat being one of the few places where it was safe to go with racially mixed groups. Apparently the city had all types of bars, like Wallace's Spot for upper-class women; there was some talk that when the spinster princess from Argentina was in town, she spent several nights at Wallace's Spot. The Carousel was patronized by white working women. Anyway, the Quiet Cat had always been mixed. When Teddy asked why, Dawn shrugged as if she couldn't take the time to figure it out. And there was the Whispering Well, which was mostly colored women. Dawn and Sandra split their weekends between the Quiet Cat and the Whispering Well, plainly tailoring tonight's venue to Teddy.

‘OK, girls.' Gretta sashayed over and wiped a grey rag in front of them as if cleaning the table. Teddy noticed that she barely skimmed the damp cloth over the various spots and scars on the wooden surface. ‘Let's have less gasps and more gulps. What'll it be?'

‘Beer?' Dawn asked.

‘Yes,' said Teddy.

Sandra nodded.

‘Pitcher, please,' Dawn ordered.

‘So don't we get an introduction?' asked the white woman, now leaning against the wall, with one arm around her friend's shoulder.

‘Oh, Teddy Fielding,' Sandra laughed. ‘This is Hannah Kelly and Mary Ellen Moore.'

‘Hi, Teddy.' Hannah had a surprisingly sweet voice.

‘Charmed, I'm sure.' Mary Ellen gave her a meticulously manicured hand and a broad smile.

‘Mind if we join you?' Hannah asked Dawn.

Dawn looked at Teddy protectively.

‘Oh, we won't eat her for God's sake,' Hannah laughed.

Teddy tried to smile. She wanted to reassure Dawn that she could fend for herself. While she was touched by Dawn's concern, she was also troubled about being a burden. After all, this was Saturday night.

‘Make yourself at home.' Teddy invoked her easiest Oklahoma welcome. ‘Sorry we can't offer more cosy accommodation.'

Mary Ellen laughed, sat down beside Sandra and immediately began whispering and giggling. Dawn kept a close watch on Hannah as she sat beside Teddy.

‘That's the spirit, girl,' Hannah grinned. ‘A little hospitality goes a long way in this cold world.'

Within twenty minutes the bar was bustling like Market Street at noon. The small room grew smokier; the conversations and the Andrews Sisters were tuned up.

Shrimps and Rice, won't you hold tight?

Hold tight. Hold tight. Hold tight.

The four friends obviously had
a lot to talk about and Teddy was relieved to sit back, soaking in the atmosphere. She watched the single women at the bar ordering drink after drink, working up the courage to converse. The graceful men in the far corner laughed quietly. It took her fifteen minutes to turn her head and watch the people on the dance floor.

A dozen girls were swinging under yellow lights.

Mother, may I go out dancing? Mother, may I go romancing?

Must I keep on dancing? … yes, my darling daughter.

Teddy tried to forget
her
mother. Suddenly, she fell into a deep hollowness. Could she write to Angela about the Quiet Cat? Were there Quiet Cats in Texas? Was Angela right now dancing to ‘One Night When The Moon Was So Mellow' with some yellow rose? Did Angela go for the cowgirl types? Teddy looked back to the bar, above the tapping fingers and the stiff necks, to the mirror which caught all the sources of light and spent them back through bottles of whisky and gin. Phew, this place did smell like a tavern. She recalled those terrifying Saturday nights when they couldn't find Pop and she and Hank and Arthur had to comb the bars until they spotted him huddled at the back of Joe's Hut or the Dry Stick or one of a dozen Okie watering holes.

Teddy was conscious of her stomach ache easing. She heard a loud buzzing in her ear. The beer. How had she gone through three glasses already? It was the same for everyone at the table. Dawn could usually handle only one glass after work. This place wasn't at all what she had expected. Better in some ways. Far more women than she had imagined. And the variety! Integrated couldn't describe it. Not only had she seen Negroes, Orientals, whites and even a woman who looked like an East Indian — was she the Argentine princess in disguise? — but they were wearing all sorts of outfits — butch and femme and some, like herself, in between. Teddy was surprised at how familiar this place was, at all the terms she knew, from her reading … from her imagination? She thought how Moira was always teasing her about not being observant with what she wore. It was true, on Saturday morning she could be found with two different colored socks. And worse, occasionally she arrived at work to find a hem falling from her dress. Sometimes she felt that Moira was her mother, the way she groomed her. Anyway, here she was, suddenly fascinated with the clothes people wore in this new, yet comfortable territory. What a relief to be in a room almost empty of men. One layer of tension was replaced by another because of the way the women scrutinized­ you.

‘How about a dance?' Hannah asked.

Teddy let in the music again.

Oh, beat me Daddy eight to the bar … he plays the

boogie … he plays eight to the bar!

‘What's the matter?' Hannah persisted.
‘Don't they dance in Oklahoma?'

‘Oh.' Teddy's jaw locked. Inadvertently, she glanced at Mary Ellen who was busy whispering to Sandra. She caught Dawn's eye. Her friend seemed to be saying, do what you like, but watch it.

Hannah observed the exchange. ‘Unless your chaperone objects.'

‘You know, Hannah,' Dawn wiped her glasses, ‘sometimes you're a pain in the ass.'

Teddy was glad their teasing gave her a chance to pull herself together. What was Dawn so worried about? ‘Sure,' she answered. ‘We dance up a storm in Oklahoma.' Now where did that confident voice come from? She remembered her last dance — with Randy at the house party while Angela and Moira looked on. If she could handle that, she could do ‘Beat Me Daddy' with Hannah Kelly.

‘So you're new to the scene?' Hannah inquired, drawing closer to Teddy.

Yes, my darling daughter …

Teddy tried to shut out
the jukebox. These girls did have a thing for the Andrews Sisters. Then, abruptly conscious of Hannah's question — actually the warmth of Hannah's body pressed against her own, she said, ‘No, I've lived in San Francisco for about ten years.' She knew this was the wrong answer. She felt like she had to continue immediately or she would explode. ‘And you?'

‘Born in the city.' Hannah pulled back, frowning. ‘I mean,' she drew close again and spoke more slowly, ‘you new to this bar scene?'

Teddy thought Hannah's question was more challenge than inquiry. If she said yes, did that mean she was a lesbian? Was she a lesbian? Was she like the women in the frilly dresses or the ones masquerading as men? She must admit that this evening had released fantasies she never had allowed herself to consider with the lights on. If she wasn't a lesbian, what was she doing here? She was so nervous she didn't know what she felt. And why was Hannah asking? She was with Mary Ellen, wasn't she?

‘I've never been here before, if that's what you're asking.' Clarity emerged from somewhere.

‘That satisfies part of the question.'

I'll be with you in apple blossom time …

Teddy tried to remember
the
words from Moira's record. She had played this song over and over and over after Randy left.

‘You known Dawn and Sandra long?'

‘I work with Dawn at … downtown,' Teddy said carefully, for she had developed a wariness during the last hour. Of course Hannah wouldn't tell anyone at the Emporium, of course she was a lesbian herself. She knew Dawn worked there, didn't she? How much did these people know about each other? Ridiculous, they were all people. Could Hannah see how nervous she was?

A couple bumped into them and Teddy was relieved to encounter a real, physical obstacle. She let out a long sigh, releasing 5 minutes of breath.

‘What the hell?' Hannah screeched. ‘Oh, Lucille, do me a favor, will you stay off the floor when you're soused? Liquor and polkas do not mix.'

Teddy detected a shade of concern in Hannah's rebuke.

‘Come on, Kay, take Lucille back to the table. She's in no condition.'

Maybe Hannah's interview was just another tough role. Maybe she was trying to be welcoming to Teddy.

Hannah leaned closer. ‘Dawn and I have been pals for a long time now. How come she never mentioned you?'

‘Don't know.' Teddy concentrated on breathing. ‘She never mentioned you either. Dawn can be close-mouthed when she likes.'

Then add a boogie woogie and look what they got.

Rum Boogie. Rum boogie woogie …

She was enjoying the dancing
more now. Hannah nodded to the beat of the music. Teddy imagined them travelling to Cuba.

Then throw your body a way back in …

Teddy looked around,
wondering if
she would ever return to this place. Her mind raced with excitement, fear, irritation, confusion. She didn't much like the sensation of being lost. But she did like this new feeling of letting go. How come she could feel this good in a room full of strangers? She stretched her head back and noticed a mirror in the ceiling. There below her, beside her, around her were women dressed as women, women dressed as men. Women looking for something in each other and looking at each other in the mirror and ultimately releasing themselves for the evening. What would Moira think of all this? Why did she think of Moi? Maybe she felt Moi would understand this world better than Wanda or Ann. She was more daring, herself. Someday she would tell Moi all about this. The thought startled her so that she fell straight back into Hannah's curious gaze. Was this woman cold, challenging, amused? The music had stopped. Two couples near the wall hung on each other, whether from passion or booze, Teddy couldn't tell.

‘You OK?'

‘Yes,' Teddy said evenly. She played back Hannah's voice. She had a rough concern, a veiled irony like Angela. Teddy pictured Angela hanging over the fence, tossing sarcasms about her Victory Garden. Her edge came from shyness. The evening started to spin again. Dawn-Moira-Angela-Teddy-Hannah-Mary Ellen-Gretta-Sandra. Was she a lesbian? Did she have the flu? Could she give Hannah an answer?

‘Sure, I'm fine. But I wouldn't mind sitting out the next one.'

‘No choice.' Hannah smiled. ‘They break the music every hour — to encourage trade at the bar.'

Hour, thought Teddy, no wonder she was tired. She barely felt Hannah's hand at the back of her elbow. Her cheeks were burning as they approached the small table. Dawn observed closely. Hannah stared back in bluff defiance. Satisfied that Teddy was safe, Dawn returned to her drink. As she sat down, Dawn pushed a glass of beer to her. ‘You're not a bad dancer.' This was one aspect of the carnival that Teddy had overlooked, the business of being on display. Had Dawn really admired the way she danced? Why would Dawn watch her? She was with Sandra, wasn't she? Were they all together? How did they come apart? How many parts were there? Was she playing a part now?

‘What do you think of “South American Way”,' Sandra asked Hannah. ‘Don't you think they're better with the fast music?'

‘No.' Hannah shook her head and defended her favorite Andrews Sisters songs in intricate detail. Teddy could barely follow the conversation, but she didn't mind. She wanted to sit back and rest and let the parts reassemble. She was just a little worried that they would never find the old pattern again. Just a little worried.

‘Teddy, don't sulk.'
Moira sat
across from her unusually snappish friend in the living room. ‘You know I want to have this party too. I just need to make sure things are a little smoother with Randy before I do.'

‘I'm not sulking,' answered Teddy, who didn't know how she was behaving. She had been in a state for weeks now, as if her period were always due the next day. Her one certainty was that she wasn't upset about the party. She was upset about the Quiet Cat. And excited. She was upset about Randy. But why? Moira had a right to her own life. ‘It's fine with me to postpone the party. It will be easier next month.' By then, she might be clearer whether she should invite Dawn and Sandra. She had considered Hannah and Mary Ellen, in a mad moment.