Tempest Brewing Tropical Storms Part 1 (5 page)

"Not 'what' are you doing, 'how' are you doing?
Two separate questions, Don't care "what," just "how." Joy smiled
at her co-worker and friend.

"I'm fine" was all she replied.

Crystal had climbed out of the taxi minivan and
had joined the conversation. "Fucked up, insecure, neurotic and
emotional, that's what
"fine"
means. Hey Storm, long time no
see, I'm "fine" too. Hey, I think I left something at your house
last night."

"Yep, I got it put away for you, you careless
bitch." Stormy replied through an unchanged evil grin."

Joy thought to herself that it made perfect
sense that these two already knew each other, she should have
known. "Well, I'm out," Joy announced."Gonna walk home and wait up
for Brian."

Joy had read the undercurrent of attraction
between Crystal and Stormy and really had had enough of the whole
Key West party to you puke, drop or go to jail lifestyle. A good
night's sleep and tomorrow she planned on looking at her life from
a fresh vantage point. It was time for serious review and
restructuring.

Brian had seen Stormy stop at the taxi that had
just pulled up and talk to whoever had arrived. When he
surprisingly recognized who were getting out from the cab, he had
ducked back to the rear of the fenced compound. It was an easy
vault over the chain link to escape unnoticed out the back and a
short walk back to the Red Garter Saloon on the 200 block of
Duval.

Joy started walking away from the Schooner's
Wharf; she spent enough time there and didn't want to be there now.
She wasn't, however, ready to go home to an empty house. Glad to be
alone with her own thoughts uncontaminated by anyone else's drama,
she sauntered off without a firm direction or destination in mind.
She was content in her own space on a balmy tropical night in
paradise.

It was a perfect night for a walk; the air had
been dry as all the humidity had been sucked away by the recent
storm. Temperatures had remained slightly cool around 80 degrees at
night. It seemed as if people had come out of hiding from the
little thunder storm and people were walking on the sidewalks and
streets, bicycles with a single beam of light darted in and out,
scooters with "Rent me for the day" logos chugged haltingly between
blocks. A few of the scooters lurched erratically as the driver
hadn't quite figured out the basic operation of the vehicle yet or
had alcohol on the brain. As she neared Duval, Pedi-cabs became
involved in the island's transportation scene, with more than a few
motorcycles and cars. This volume of pedestrian and motored traffic
was not due to any Key West event like Fantasy Fest or Conch Days.
This was just a typical weekday night in the southern most U.S.A.
The number of people and vehicles coming in could quadruple and
perhaps even more during annual festivals on the Key.

From the Schooner she walked on William Street
inland to Eaton Street. Taking a right on Eaton, she soon found
herself on the infamous Duval Street. Without a specific
destination she turned right and started up Duval, immersed in the
frenetic chaos of alcohol-attenuated tourists and the ever vigilant
locals looking to change the available cash balance between the two
groups. She was lost in her own place, unaware of the human energy
around her; she wasn't obsessing about any one thing.

Fragments of thoughts, memories, and emotions
drifted in and out of her consciousness without settling on
anything in particular. Of one thing she was quite certain, most of
the emotions were of discontent; she had to make some changes.

She saw him standing on the street as if he were
the only person; not one of the multitude that surrounded him. She
stopped to study him for a minute. He was across the street from
801 Duval, the Bourbon Street Pub. He was just leaning casually on
the stone wall that edged the property across the street. He didn't
appear unusual or uncomfortable; just like a tourist who stopped at
this particular spot to rest and reflect. He casually looked up and
down the street as if he was looking for someone, and then would
just stare over at the Bourbon Pub. The scene would have been
comical if Joy didn't read it immediately.

As she walked up to him she remarked "So when
you said you knew what a drag show was, it was from a book or the
internet or something right? You've never actually seen a drag
show."

"It's about time
you
showed up." was
Vincent's greeting.

"Excuse me?,"
was all Joy could
utter.

Vincent was clearly a little agitated. "I've
been standing here waiting for you for like three hours. I've been
solicited by at least three homosexuals for sure and at least one
woman who I think wasn't my kind of lady. One guy came by and asked
me if I wanted a "bump," what the hell is a "bump?" And then the
cops came by and asked if I was all right. I assured them I was,
and then they left but holy cow Miss Joy, I could've done okay with
a whole lot less of the local color, if you know what I mean."

Joy just looked at Vincent the dentist from the
Deep South and burst out laughing. When she could recover herself a
bit she managed to say
"You poor baby."

Vincent looked at her for a second and joined in
the hysterical fit of laughing. Between spasms of uncontrolled
giggling he sputtered "Yes'um, for gosh sakes, poor me!"

After they both got control of themselves, they
stared at each other like schoolchildren.

"So how did you know I would see you here? We
didn't have a date or anything, did we? Last I knew you were a
satisfied customer."

"I jes knew, that's all." he softly said.

After a short silence Joy asked "So you want to
go on in and see?"

"I told you," Vincent replied gently, "I reckon
it'd be okay if you went with me."

Joy linked her arm into the dentist's arm and
walked with him across the street. "Don't get freaked out if some
guy hits on you."

"I'd be disappointed if no one did," Vincent
stated with a completely straight face. "I'm not that ugly now, am
I?"

Joy smiled to herself thinking how Brian would
react to a cross-dresser coming on to him. The image was not at all
pretty. Joy liked the quiet confidence this man she was with,
possessed. Maybe, she thought, it was all an act to subterfuge a
major player within. She hoped not. She didn't think it could be
true. Every indication of Vincent's behavior had pointed to a
genuinely good guy, spreading his cultural wings and sowing some
wild oats before inheriting a lifetime of dedicated service to his
community as the family dentist.

Joy happily took Vincent by the hand and led him
into Duval Streets' premier gay spot. Inside, there was no pretense
at anything mainline, anything went.

From the second that they entered the club, Joy
could sense the conflicting rules of etiquette and convention
Vincent struggled with. He quickly gave up his usual "Howdy Ma'am,"
or "Howdy sir" in lieu of "How are you tonight?" And it sounded
authentic each time he uttered it.

His spontaneous and natural reaction to the
scene and people around him was as spontaneous as if he had just
encountered a prehistoric tribe village while on vacation kayaking
on the Amazon River. He was witnessing and experiencing a culture
he had only been exposed to in media and the internet. There were
no gay clubs in Montgomery, Georgia. He literally soaked it all in
and spontaneously joined in the rambunctious applause and hooting
after each performer. A couple of Jack and Cokes had loosened up
the good dentist a bit. He genuinely seemed to be having a good
time. But he never let Joy out of his attention for more than a
second or two.

He was continuously on guard to make sure her
drink was filled, and that she was enjoying the show. He often
would solicit her opinion. "What about that on?" he would whisper
intimately in her ear and jerk his eyes toward a particularly
attractive woman.

"Man." Joy would respond with conviction.

"No!" Vincent would exclaim with disbelief, "Too
pretty, I mean,
way
too pretty."

"I know her," then Joy caught herself, "I mean
him, he's in a class I take at the community college. Only there
he's a guy and hot as can be, always coming on to girls in the
class."

"You mean that beautiful woman is a guy? I mean,
mind you, not a queer guy, but a
straight guy?"
Vincent
asked incredulously. The reality of the individual he saw before
him on stage defied his boundaries of comprehension. "Why?" was the
only rational question he could ask.

Joy answered "For tuition, he's studying to be a
Paramedic at the local college. He's taking one sociology
requirement with me. He's doing very well, he's at the top of his
class. Do you have any idea how much money he will make tonight?
Between what the club pays and tips from 'admirers' through the
night he'll walk with six or seven bills."

"What do you mean "Bills?" Vincent asked.

"You know," she responded, "Like, hundreds.
He'll take home six or seven hundred bucks on a good night. And
there are more good nights than bad."

"So why did I go to dental school?" Vincent
asked in genuine awe.

"Cause you would look like shit in makeup and a
wig." Joy told him with a grin. "Have you ever walked in high
heels? They couldn't pay you enough, believe me."

Vincent roared appreciatively. "Yeah, I guess
you're right. Can you imagine that?" And he started laughing again
at the mental picture of himself wearing a wig and in high heeled
shoes. It was nothing he had ever considered in his entire life,
not even once.

At one point in the show Vincent leaned over and
whispered to Joy "He can sure sing like a girl."

Joy considered not telling him the truth, his
awe was so genuine. "She's lip syncing, not actually singing."

"What? Really? It's perfect, I mean the lips
move exactly in sync and the facial expression-" Vincent was
accustomed to looking at mouths. He truly appreciated the skill
displayed by the entertainer singing Adele's recent hit "Fire in
the Rain." There was also a part of him untainted by contemporary
racism that also appreciated the way the performer moved . He was a
true actor and his talent was worth every penny they made. Vincent
thought "For cripes' sake didn't Robin Williams make a bundle of
cash pretending to be the nanny to his own kids in a movie?"

Mrs. Doubtfire was actually very entertaining to
see and one could learn a lesson or two, watching it. "Not all
families have one mummy and one daddy," Mrs. Doubtfire had
announced on national television. "It's the love that binds."

Vincent had a really great time in Joy's company
experiencing a new perspective on human existence. He absorbed it
like a dry sponge soaking up water. She appeared to enjoy herself
as much as he was enjoying himself. It was exactly as it should be,
he thought, stealing a glance at the beautiful woman with him in
this alternative universe. "I have to remember to thank Dad for
this." he thought.

After the show, Vincent suddenly felt a surge of
anxiety as he realized there was no further reason for Joy to hang
out with him. It never occurred to him that she might actually
enjoy his company and might be feeling similar feelings about the
end of the show and not being ready to part ways.

"So that was fun." She said innocently.

"So is that it?" asked Vincent.

"What do you mean?" Joy asked, knowing very well
what he meant.

"I mean, so is that it? Like, we walk off into
the night and pretend that there wasn't something between us? A
spark?" Vincent implored.
"...Something?"

Joy knew exactly what he was talking about, but
wasn't close enough to identifying her own feelings and
acknowledging his. She felt something about this guy she had just
met, but all of her experience in Key West warned her that he was
only here for a few days. That anything and everything he said was
designed to provide one more memorable experience in his one-week
vacation, and then he was off to wherever it was he came from.

"I love you" could mean "I want to fuck you." "I
want to be with you forever" could mean "I want to be with you
forever, at least until my flight back to Iowa in a week."

This was the first time, however, that she had
allowed herself to open up just a little. Just a little, though.
When he left without any intention of remembering her or
acknowledging the time they had spent together she would be hurt,
but just a little. She would have only herself to blame for
allowing the little spark of hope that this guy was different. None
of them were ever different, she believes, they were all there on
vacation in Key West and were there only to have a good time, not
meet the girl of their dreams.

"Relationships are based on mutual trust and
take time." Joy started to explain. "I had a lot of fun with you
tonight, but what are you asking me? I mean really, what are you
saying?"

Vincent absorbed what Joy had said and
immediately understood the situation from her perspective. His
demeanor immediately became submissive and undemanding. "What I
meant to say was... Can I see you home tonight and maybe have lunch
with you tomorrow?"

"It's not that easy you know." Joy said.

"What's not easy?" asked Vincent. "All you have
to do is whatever makes you happy. Anyone who cares about you would
respect that, or should."

"Sounds good, Vincent, but I have to figure a
few things out, you know?"

"I know, I know. So do I, but I can't just say
"good-bye". You know?"

"I know," Joy quietly said lowering her gaze
imperceptivity. "Look," she said meeting his piercing gaze head on,
"We don't have to decide the fate of the world in the next ten
minutes, right? It's still early, let's just go have a drink and
sit and enjoy the night for a few more minutes. You're not rushing
back to Alabama or Georgia or wherever tonight, are you?"