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Episode 2

On a Mission

Tammy and Frances had been best friends since they were in junior high school – two kids on the fringe of the norm just looking for anyone who might understand them and finding each other. Most people had been more than a little puzzled by their friendship. After all, Tammy was all about playing sports – a real tomboy – while Frances – if she hadn’t been dubbed a freak early on in life – would have been cheerleader and prom queen material. When they went on double dates together, Tammy’s date always wound up flirting with Frances, and Tammy never seemed to be very upset about it.

            Growing up in Piedmont, a conservative upper middle classed suburb of Shea City, there had probably been a lot of other teenagers going through the same things they were, but no one talked about it. Besides, in Piedmont there was no safe place, so they kept what they felt to themselves, covered as best they could, and felt mostly isolated – except they had each other.

Tammy admitted – at least to herself – that she was gay before she turned thirteen. Basically as soon as she learned what a lesbian was she knew what she was.

Frances was just wild.  She had been flipping between boys and girls, more or less fucking everything that moved since she was fourteen and at least pretending that it had nothing to do with being an over-sexed teen and everything to do with being sexually adventurous and maybe a little confused.

By the time they were applying to Shea City U, Tammy was looking to get out of town to get away from an ex-girlfriend she was afraid was going to out her to the entire town at any minute. Frances was telling anyone who’d listen – including her parents – that she was a bisexual, and was somewhat disappointed when even this failed to get an emotional response from them.

Tammy was more than happy to let her friend flaunt her sexuality while she hung on for dear life to her closet door.

            “I’m telling you it’s B Street,” Frances said.

            “‘P’ Street like penis,” Tammy insisted.

            “‘B’ like boob, boob,” Frances said, dropping the map and deciding to quit pretending like she could read it. She looked through the car windows at the city around them. “Let’s see, super butch, we’re on P Street. I see a Baptist church, two filling stations, and a laundromat. Does this look like where all the queers hang out to you?”

            Tammy laughed at herself. “No, not really. See, I told you it was B Street. Don’t know why you always have to argue with me; we all know your little bisexual brain stays so confused.”

            Frances laughed, too. “Must be why I can’t read the map, you better have a look and see where we’re going.”

            Tammy pulled her BMW over, took the map from Frances, gave her a look and then turned it over. She frowned.

            “What?” Frances asked.

            “It’s less than three blocks from the campus.”

            “Great going!” Frances laughed.

            “Better be nice to me since your mom and dad cut you off because of your perverse ways.”

            “They don’t give a shit about my perverse ways. Hell, that’s the whole problem. They don’t give a shit at all. They didn’t cut me off; they never put any money back for me to go to college in the first place because that would have cut into their boat fund. If I didn’t kill myself and go without a social life…”

“Probably just as well. Your social life is likely as not going to give you a social disease,” Tammy said with a laugh.

“Fuck you, Tammy. I had to get a scholarship or I couldn’t go to college at all, you know that.” She made a face.

            “Cheer up. We’re about to be in queer town,” Tammy said, then punched Frances in the arm.

            “You ever been before?”

            “Nope. If I had been I think I could have found it. You?”

            “No, no car remember? I basically haven’t been anywhere you haven’t been if it takes a car because my parents sure never took me anywhere. They were always off in one of their cars and God forbid that they should get me one.” Bitterness crept into her voice again.

            “Gee, I wonder why you wanted to major in psychology.”

            “Shut up, she who waltzes with big orange ball. You have a fucking trust fund, so what would you know about being broke? You’re like the poster child for butch dykes, and yet your parents believe that you’re straight. Even if they knew they’d probably be disappointed but they’d get over it quick and they wouldn’t pass judgment because they’re good people and they actually love you. So what the hell would you know about parental rejection?”

            “Would you stop with the whining, Frances? At least quit bitching at me, I didn’t tell you to come out to everyone in the known world. I don’t want to come out of the closet, I like it in here, it’s warm and cozy and I still have all Daddy and Mommy’s love and money,” Tammy said, then changed the subject with a laugh. “So you suppose this is it?” Tammy asked.

            “Let’s see, four coffee shops, two gay book stores, and three bars in one city block with names like Hook Ups, Changes and The Closet Door. I’d say we’re home.”

They couldn’t get in any of the clubs because they were under aged and they got carded everywhere they went. They were bitching loudly as they walked down the road.

“So where the fuck are you supposed to go when you’re under twenty-one and gay?” Frances hissed.

“I fucking told you we needed to have some fake IDs made, but no you said it wasn’t necessary that no one was going to card us on B Street,” Tammy lamented.

A good looking red headed woman walking up the street heard them, stopped and said, “Head over to Rhonda’s Caf�. It only serves beer so you don’t need ID to get in there.”

            “Thanks,” Tammy said.

            “You’ll like it.” She smiled at Frances. “It’s where all the artsy types hang out, good crowd.”

            “Thanks,” Frances said, smiling back seductively.

            “It’s just across the street at the end of this block,” the red head pointed in the direction. “Freshmen?”

            “Yeah, how’d you know?” Frances supplied.

            The girl smiled. “It’s that time of year. I’ll see you around I’m sure.” She walked away.

            Tammy laughed as they started walking in the direction of the caf�.

            “What?” Frances asked.

            “Is it the perfume you wear or just a pheromone you excrete that lets everyone know you’re in heat?”

            “Jealous much?” Frances laughed.

            Rhonda’s wasn’t hard to find – the sign hanging from a post about fifteen feet above the sidewalk was bright yellow with black letters. In big letters it said “Rhonda’s Caf�,” under that in smaller letters it said “Food, Beer, Entertainment,” and then in slightly bigger letters along the bottom it read, “If you don’t like the rules go away!”         Apparently most people didn’t mind the rules, the place was packed, noisy, and full of life. Frances loved it immediately.

Just outside the front door was a four by four foot sign. at the top in big letters it said,

The Rules:

1. NO DRUGS!

2. No smoking!

3. You break it; you bought it.

4. No Chicken Hawks.

5. No one under sixteen.

6. To drink beer you must have ID.

7. If you give beer to a minor or drugs

to anyone the cops are on speed dial.

8. No fighting.

9. NO DYKE DRAMA!!!

If you break the rules

you will be banned from Rhonda’s for life.

Have a good time.

Frances and Tammy looked at each other, laughed, and walked in. Frances could hear a woman playing guitar and singing and finally saw her on a small stage just behind the equally small, very crowded dance floor.

            “So you want a coke or something?” Tammy asked in her ear so that she could be heard over the noise.

            “I suppose. There’s no sense even trying to get anything stronger,” Frances said with a sigh.

            They walked up to the bar and found the bartender working on one side while women hung all over the bar in front of her as if they all expected a genie to pop out of her ass at any moment. Francis didn’t have to wonder why, the woman had a smile that would melt the coldest heart and was so charismatic you didn’t have to see her to feel her presence.

            Frances sighed longingly and said to Tammy, “I take it back, there’s the dyke poster child.” 

            “Adrian Bar,” a black woman with a hint of British accent whispered in her ear. “All she serves is the beer. If you want a soda or coffee, just find a place to park and someone will serve you shortly.” The woman was sultry and carried herself like some African goddess.

            “Thanks,” Frances said.

            The woman just smiled and said, “Welcome to Rhonda’s,” in a voice that said she really was glad they were here.

            “We could be sent off to the president’s stupid-assed war, but we can’t even walk up to the bar,” Tammy mumbled as she started propelling Frances towards an empty table. A few minutes later another waitress came to take their orders.

“There’s a $1.00 cover charge,” she said.

“Only a buck?” Tammy said in disbelief.

“It’s just to pay the entertainer. When we don’t have entertainment there is no cover charge,” the waitress said.

“I’ll have a coffee. What do you want, Frances?”

“Coke.”

            “You want anything else? We’re still serving from our munchies menu if you’d like to see that.”

            “Actually I am a little hungry,” Tammy said.

            “You’re always hungry,” Frances said.

“Yeah, and whatever I order you know you’re going to eat half, so shut up.” The waitress handed her a small menu and she ordered some nachos.

As the waitress walked away Frances eyes went to the bartender again.

            The waitress came back in seconds with their drinks. Tammy saw where Frances was looking, smiled and sipped at her coffee. “It’s good, and hot too, wonder if the same is true of the bartender?”

            “I’m just looking,” Frances said with a laugh. “Not saying I wouldn’t like to try her on for size, but I have no intention of competing with all that.” She said of the throng of women gathered around Adrian like cult followers might surround their Jesus.

            Tammy laughed.

They shared a plate of nachos, and as the night wore on they started to relax. They danced a lot and flirted a little. They were having a great time, and everything was cool till some huge, fat, bull dyke thought that Tammy was trying to run off with her girl friend – which she had been, but in all fairness the girl hadn’t been acting like she was with any one. Besides, since – as Frances had observed on many occasions – Tammy had no game whatsoever, the woman’s girlfriend had been the one doing most of the talking.

            “Hey, get off my girl friend,” she said, grabbing Tammy by the collar of her T-shirt and throwing her half way across the now fairly empty caf�.

            Frances put an open palm on the big woman’s arm. “Hey, we don’t want any trouble.” It might have worked, too, because she had a way with people, but Tammy had already jumped to her feet and was posturing – ready for a fight – stupid butch idiot.

            “I ain’t got no problem with you, it’s with your friend and…”

“I will kick your stupid fat ass,” Tammy said, and then Frances was pushing against Tammy’s chest, trying to hold her back.

Then Adrian Bar was standing between them and the furious dyke.

            “Get out. You and your woman get out,” she said in a deceptively calm voice.
            “Fuck you, Adrian! I know you fucked my woman.” She slung a big meaty fist at Adrian. Adrian ducked the blow and came up under the other woman’s arm with a right upper cut that laid the bitch out. The big dyke lay on the floor half dazed and rubbing her chin as her girlfriend knelt beside her.

            “You came in here drunk. You’re nothing but a fucking troublemaker, Deadra. So you and Jenny get the fuck out and don’t come back.”

            “You can’t throw me out of Rhonda’s; you don’t own it.”

            “But I do,” the black woman who had talked to Tammy and Frances earlier said walking up to Adrian’s right shoulder. “So I suggest you get out before I have Adrian throw you out.”

            The woman helped her girlfriend up and then they both left. The black woman turned to Frances and Tammy. “Sorry about that.”

            “I could have taken care of her myself,” Tammy said.

            “Oh I don’t doubt it, but we don’t allow fighting here, and it’s Adrian’s job to handle the dyke drama, not our customer’s. My name is Stella. I own Rhonda’s.” She must have read the confused look in France’s eyes because she laughed and said, “It was named after the former owner’s girlfriend. They broke up and she sold the business. It already had a good clientele, so… if it ain’t broke don’t fix it – isn’t that what you always say, Adrian?”

            “Well not always, but I say it a lot.” she smiled at them both and then went back behind the bar where she started washing her hands.

            Frances drug her attention back. “Ah… I’m Frances Powers.”

            “Tammy Willis.” Tammy shook the woman’s hand. “I’m sorry; I swear I wasn’t trying to cause any trouble.”

            “You don’t have to with Deadra, we had her on the three-strikes-you’re-out list; we were looking for a reason to ban her,” Stella said.

            “Last call,” Adrian screamed from the bar, and two men and a woman all half staggered to the bar. Was it really that late? Frances looked at the clock – it said 12:00 –that wasn’t late for a club, but this wasn’t really a club, and it was a lot later than she had thought it was.

            “So I guess you’re the first of the freshmen this year. There ought to be some sort of award for that. What about one more round of drinks, on the house?”
            “Sounds great, thanks.” Tammy said.

            Stella started walking away then turned and whispered in Frances’ direction. “You can talk to her; she doesn’t bite. At least she doesn’t bite on a first date, or so I’ve been told.”

            Frances flushed, looking at the floor. Tammy laughed.

            “I’m going home and writing this down on the calendar. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you embarrassed before.” She shoved Frances’ shoulder towards the bar. “Go on.”

            “You don’t get it, Tammy. I find her unbelievably attractive but… I’d rather know what her story is.”

            “You aren’t a shrink yet,” Tammy said with a disgusted tone as she went back to their table.

            Frances sat down across from her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            “It means you don’t always need to know what makes everyone tick. You don’t always have the right to ask some of the questions you ask,” Tammy said. The same waitress that had been serving them all night brought over a coffee and a coke. “I’ve drank so much coffee tonight I’m never going to sleep.”

            “So that’s it. You’re just going to assassinate my character and then change the subject to jonesing on caffeine.”

            “Assassinate your… now what the hell are you talking about? Do you think you might try speaking my language?”

            “So does that mean cave-man type grunts? Why are you pissed off at me?”

            “Me… why are you pissed off at me?”

            “Wow dudes!” Adrian had walked up to their table. She pulled up a chair and sat down she pointed to a great big sign hanging on a rafter over her head and read it without looking at it. “No dyke drama.” The rules were posted on big signs separately all over the caf�.

            “Look, Frances, it’s Muhammad,” Tammy said, proving that she wasn’t as stupid as she liked everyone to think she was. Frances kicked her under the table.

            “Muhammad?” Adrian asked.

            “Don’t pay any attention to her,” Frances said, and then couldn’t think of anything else to say which was an absolute first for her.

            “Thanks for bouncing the Dyke from hell,” Tammy said, though it was obvious from her tone of voice that she would have rather handled it herself.

            There were a million questions Frances wanted to ask Adrian, none of which were appropriate for a first meeting with a total stranger.  For one thing she was wondering why the owner and the bartender were being so nice to two strangers.

            “You close out the bar?” Stella screamed from the back.

            “Mostly, money’s in the safe,” Adrian yelled back, and that was when Frances noticed the caf� was empty except for her and Tammy and the employees.

            “I’m sorry,” Frances said. She looked at Tammy. “We’re keeping them from closing.” She started to get up, and Adrian grabbed her hand. A tingle went up her arm from this simple touch, and… the woman smelled incredible.

            “You aren’t stopping us from closing.” She released Frances’s hand. “Where you guys from?”

            “Piedmont,” Frances and Tammy said at once.

            “So you basically just moved across town. You living at home or here?”

            “In the dorms,” Tammy said. She could have pledged to a sorority but decided against it because Frances couldn’t and she really didn’t want to be surrounded by strangers. Besides, her parents didn’t really approve of the whole fraternity/sorority thing.

            Adrian frowned, and they heard Stella laugh as she walked over. She slapped Adrian in the shoulder with a towel. “Quit working,” she said in a scolding town. “I’ve got an apartment to rent. Adrian is the super, so she thinks it’s her job to fill it as soon as the last piece of the old tenant’s furniture goes down in the lift.”

            Frances would love to live down here, but she certainly couldn’t afford it, and she couldn’t very well ask Tammy to foot the bill just so they could live someplace cool instead of in the dorms.

            “Can’t beat me for trying.” Adrian shrugged and got up. She caught Frances’ gaze and held it like she was looking at her very soul. Then she turned on her heel and went back over to clean and restock the bar for the next day.

            Stella sat down then. “Getting too old for these late nights, so you girls will have to come back and,” she smiled at Frances, “see Adrian.”

            “We’ll be back,” Tammy said.

In the car on the drive home Tammy was too quiet, especially since she’d drank enough coffee to wake a dead body. Of course Frances had drank just as much coke, so maybe Tammy wasn’t talking because Frances wouldn’t shut up which was actually common for their friendship and had little to do with how much caffeine she’d drank.

            “Rhonda’s is just the greatest place on earth. Don’t you think it’s the greatest place on earth? I mean aside from the fact you nearly got your ass kicked.”

            “I did not nearly get my ass kicked,” Tammy said, then fell silent again.

            “I suppose not. Fat, sloppy, drunk, bitch – I probably could have taken her and… what’s wrong?”

            “Nothing,” Tammy shrugged in that way that she always did when she was hiding something.

            “Are you still mad at me?”

            “No.”

            “Then what’s wrong, why are you so quiet, what are you thinking?”

            “Dammit Frances, this is what I was talking about. Can’t you just let things alone? I’m allowed to have a thought all of my own.”

            “Not from your best friend.”

            “You’re my best friend, not my girlfriend.”

            “That should make it easier to tell me anything,” Frances said.

            Tammy let out a sound that was like steam escaping from a pressure cooker then she said, “If you make fun of me I’m going to smack you.”

            “Fair enough.”

            “When Adrian sat down at the table with us I had this weird sense like we had done it before you know that dajado…

            “Deja vu.”

            “Yeah that. It was weird I just knew I’d done it before, and when I looked at her it was like I was looking at a friend, someone I’d always known not someone I’d just met.”

            Frances was quiet.

            Tammy sighed, “Go ahead and laugh.”

            “I’m not going to laugh at you, Tammy. I just don’t know what to say.” Frances shrugged. “That sort of shit happens; sometimes you just connect with people.”

            Tammy still looked bothered.

            “There something else?”

            “Rule ten,” Tammy said.

            Frances laughed. “The one on the bathroom wall that said if you just can’t wait, do it in the stall and shut and lock the door?”

            “Yeah, I don’t get it. What kind of weirdo pisses or worse shits in the floor or even on the can with the door open?” Tammy said, making a disgusted face. Frances started to laugh. “What?”

            “The ‘it’ isn’t shit, dumb ass, it’s sex.” Frances laughed.

            “Oh,” Tammy said as the light dawned, then added angrily. “See, I knew you were going to make fun of me.”

Stella watched as Jan and Adrian split off the trail away from the apartment house and towards the street instead. She didn’t have to ask where those two were going, over to Changes to dance for awhile and most probably score. For two years Adrian had asked her to go with them, and she’d always said no. Now she didn’t even ask anymore.

            Toni was gone more and more, and when she was home she was such a bitch that Stella often wished she’d just stay gone. Toni was going through menopause and very dissatisfied with where her life was and all the places it didn’t seem to be going, and she seemed to think that everything that was wrong with her life was Stella’s fault. When she was gone Stella missed her and when she was here Stella just wanted her gone again.

            Something had to give. She owed Toni a lot and they’d been through a lot together, but every time she talked to Toni every time she saw her she just felt more and more like it was over. If it was over… maybe she should have gone with Adrian – and not just to the bar. Maybe she should call out to them right now and tell them she wanted to go. She felt like she’d forgotten what fun was.

            She shook the thought from her head as she turned the key in the lock on her door. She did love Toni; they did have a life together – well almost.

            She locked the door behind her then walked over and dropped her purse and her keys on the bar by her phone. She looked at the phone and started to call Toni, trying to remember what time it was in Uganda. She couldn’t, so she didn’t call because Toni would no doubt scream at her, and that was just going to encourage Stella’s fantasy where she dumped Toni and took up with Adrian.

            Of course once she actually thought about it she started to remember; that gave life to the fantasy and it just sort of took over. So she took her fantasy and a water proof vibrator and went to get a long, hot bath.

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