CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I hardly remember our journey back to Dallas. We drove straight there, stopping once for gas and a bathroom break. I’d broken down in the dirty bathroom stall, crying tears that I was too stubborn to shed in front of Beck. I collapsed on that disgusting floor, trying to make sense of life. I stayed in there for so long that eventually an attendant had to come bang on the door and demand that I let other customers use the restroom. Her palm shook the cheap plastic door and I wondered if the stall could collapse on top of me. The only thing I decided in that bathroom was that I didn’t want to live in a world without Caroline.
Beck didn’t mention anything when I got back into the car with puffy eyes. He put on a podcast of ‘This American Life’ and gave me my peace. I didn’t want to talk about it; I just wanted to wallow in my sadness and guilt. Empty landscape morphed to urban sprawl and concrete. We drove straight to my apartment without a word. He helped me bring my luggage up, and then we stood in the threshold of my apartment in silence. My throat was tightening up and tears burned the back of my eyes. I clenched my teeth together as a last stitch effort at remaining composed.
“ Do you want me to stay?” Beck asked. His dark brown eyebrows were tugged together and his hazel eyes had lost all of their joy. He looked like he had in his MIT ID photo. My jaw tightened even more and I swallowed past the lump in my throat.
“ No,” I answered, keeping my eyes locked on the door jam.
“ Are you sure?” he asked. I wanted to yell at him, to take my anger out on something, but I just mumbled a yes.
He nodded slowly and then inched backward. “You did the right thing,” he said before turning on his heel and fading down the stairs. I pressed the door closed and then slid down onto the linoleum, wondering what he meant by that. Did I do the right thing by leaving Caroline to die? By coming home when I found out she passed away? By telling him to leave? By taking a road trip with a stranger?
I had no clue how to get beyond the questions. They were suffocating me from within. My apartment felt like a furnace, so I got up, grabbed my keys, and left.
Once I was in my car driving toward downtown, I dialed my mom.
“ Sweetie, are you home?”
“ I just got back,” I answered, putting my blinker on and changing lanes to enter the highway.
“ We’re coming over!” she said, and I could already hear her shuffling around to get her shoes on.
“ I’m not there, I needed some air. I’ll come over to the house later.”
“ Are you sure? I could take a walk with you?” She was so sweet. She wouldn’t have been this forgiving if Caroline hadn’t died. She would have been royally pissed about my road trip.
For a moment, I considered letting her come with me. It would have been nice to have her for comfort, but I wanted to be alone.
“ No. I’ll see you later,” I answered, and then cut off the call. I tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and focused on driving toward an unknown destination. I exited when I felt like it, turned left and then right without conscious thought.
I ended up on a street with a row of bars and trendy restaurants. It was nearly nine at night, so most of the places were in full swing. I parked down the street and then walked along the sidewalk, looking for a venue where I could drown my sorrows. They all had interesting names like The Flying Squirrel, O’Doyle’s Pub, and The Hippy Hollow.
One bar caught my attention out of all the rest because of the wild dancers in the window. They were scantily clad and swaying with easy confidence. Music was streaming through the doors. It was a Rihanna remix with heavy bass that seduced me enough to pull my wallet out of my back pocket. I had no clue if it was an eighteen-and-over bar or not, but the bouncer at the door was busy arguing with another guy, so I just walked right in like I belonged. A dark black staircase led me up to a second floor and the moment I hit the landing, the music and bass multiplied tenfold. Bodies shuffled in every direction and I pushed my way through, trying not to make eye contact with anyone for fear that they’d realize I was too young to be there.
I wasn’t in control of my emotions. At any moment I could have crumbled into tears that wouldn’t cease, but I kept walking deeper into the flashing lights.
There was a single spot open at the bar, smack dab in the center, so I slid onto the seat and let the club scene engulf me.
“ What can I get you?” A voice asked. I looked up to see a well-dressed bartender smiling down at me. He was impeccably groomed: waxed eyebrows and gelled black hair. Damn, he was prettier than me.
“ Could I just have a water for now?” I wasn’t sure if he would ask for my ID and I didn’t want to get kicked out. My fingers laced together and my foot tapped nervously at the foot of my bar stool.
“ Sure thing,” he winked, and then grabbed a glass and filled it with water. His movements were fluid and moved to the beat of the music the entire time. When he was finished, he grabbed a small bowl and tossed a few Maraschino cherries inside.
“ On the house, sweetie.” He placed the bowl in front of me and offered me a genuine smile before moving on to the next customer.
I popped the cherries into my mouth one at a time, letting the pulsing music push away any thoughts trying to break through my facade. It turned into a cycle: I’d hear a snippet of the conversations around me or get distracted by the bartender and for a brief second I felt like a normal person. But then Caroline’s death would snake into my consciousness and I’d feel a sharp punch to my gut all over again.
I wished she was at the bar with me. I wished she was sitting in the seat next to me instead of the couple shouting over one another to be heard. I stayed in my own little world, but she would have already had conversations with a dozen people. She drew people in like a fly trap and I always stood in the background in awe of how personable she could be to complete strangers.
I guzzled my water, trying to scrape away the sadness. People shuffled around me. The seats at the bar would empty and then fill again by a never ending stream of club goers.
My gaze was focused on my empty cherry bowl when a large presence filled the seat to my left. I didn’t look up, but I could feel the person’s energy. The scent of hair spray and a flowery perfume made my nostrils sting.
“ Why the sad face, gorgeous?” A deep voice asked.
My eyes flitted up to see a sight that I have never beheld in all of my nineteen years. A drag queen, the most beautiful, over-the-top, sparkly drag queen I’d ever seen, was peering at me from beneath thick false eyelashes. I just sat there gaping, trying to take in as much of his/her appearance as I could. A bright pink wig spiraled at least a foot into the air. Her (I decided to go with her for the time being since I didn’t know proper protocol) make-up was flawless: bright pink and purple glitter eye shadow that tapered off into a cat eye.
“ Better close that mouth sweetie, or I’ll find something to put in it,” she said, and shimmied her shoulders playfully. Glitter particles flew into the air in every direction. Her sexual innuendo only forced my mouth open an inch wider.
“ Javi, could you get us two shots of tequila, please?” she asked, pointing one long finger at the bartender. That’s when it hit me. I hadn’t wandered into just any bar. Nope. I’d wandered into a gay bar. Who knew they even existed in Dallas?
“ What’s your name?” she asked me as the two shot glasses were set in front of us.
“ Abby,” I answered shyly, staring toward the liquor. I wasn’t supposed to have alcohol because of my transplant. It’s not like one night would kill me. It was just one of those things that got cut when I already had so many obstacles working against my health.
“ Well, Abby, You’re in luck. You wandered into my club. I’m Queen Bee.”
I smiled for the first time since listening to the message on my phone earlier that day. “I love that name,” I answered, still not quite finding my voice. I sounded hollow.
“ Good! Bottoms up, Abby. I need your help judging a competition and the rules state that the judges can’t be sober!”
Queen Bee picked up the shot glasses and handed one to me. “To Abby!” She yelled it out so loudly that most of the people at the bar turned toward her in awe. “Who for the rest of the night will be named,” she paused eying me up and down once, “Ruby Red!” Everyone cheered in agreement as I sat there shocked at the situation I’d stumbled upon. No one would believe me. Except Caroline. I had no doubt that she would have taken the shot glass and poured it down my throat for me.
“ To you, Caroline!” I yelled, so loudly that it made my ears ring, before downing the shot quickly. The liquor burned going down and I didn’t even think to hide the look of pure disgust on my face.
“ Looks like we have a virgin over here,” Queen Bee sang, shoving another shot into my hand that had appeared out of nowhere. I swallowed it without hesitation and felt the effect as the two shots hit my stomach. Everyone swarmed Queen Bee as if she was literally the queen bee. She air kissed the club goers and offered little greetings that they lapped up like loyal fans. I couldn’t help but wonder how popular she was. Was this really her club?
“ Now, Ruby Red, it’s time to doll you up. You can’t go on stage dressed like that.” I looked down at my shorts and tank top.
“ This is all that I have,” I admitted, confused about what she planned on doing with me. She batted her eyelashes down to me and that’s when I realized they had tiny gemstones at the end of each lash. She looked like someone straight out of the Capitol in the Hunger Games… only more insanely dolled up.
“ I have everything you need!” she cheered, tugging my hand. “Follow me!”
She led me away from the bar and through the crowd toward a backstage area. There was a bouncer standing guard and a huge sign that read: “VIP”. A small part of me felt like I should bolt and cut my losses, but a bigger part of me was curious about what Queen Bee planned to do with me. What could she possibly want me to judge? A drag queen contest?
“ We don’t have long, but I’ll do your hair and makeup really quick and then we’ll pick out something for you to wear,” she declared as she pushed open a bright red, glossy door. The inside of her dressing room looked like what you would expect to find at the end of Candy Land. It was like a rainbow had exploded on every item in the room. Bright striped, neon walls housed racks of sparkly clothing.
“ Are you my Fairy God mother?” I asked, feeling the warmth of those two shots begin to swirl in my veins. I wasn’t drunk, but the sadness eroding my stomach all day was finally taking a backseat to a newer sensation. All thanks to Queen Bee, I could breathe without feeling like a hand was clamping down on my lungs.
Queen Bee threw her head back and laughed, carefree and wildly. “Let’s say just for tonight that I am.” She pushed me down into the chair and put her hands on my shoulders. I caught her reflection in the mirror; her bright brown eyes met mine. Her expression held a look of deep understanding, and before I realized the words that were forming, I started telling her about Caroline.
“ My friend died last night. She was sick for a long time and she never got to live her life. I’m trying to live for the both of us.” I blurted it out, never taking my eyes off her. Her grip on my shoulders tightened and her mouth flattened into a thin line. It was a brief moment of profound sorrow, but then she nodded and tucked those feelings away behind her beautiful mask.
“ Then baby, living is what you’re going to do!” She whirled me around and immediately started working on my hair. She teased it, pulled it up high, and twisted it impossibly tight. All the while I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to handle the pain. She gave me another shot when she realized how tense I was. “Beauty is pain!” she laughed before stepping back to secure my hair with more hair spray than I even realized could fit inside of a bottle. I coughed and hacked, trying desperately to breathe through the thick, chemically air.
“ Ten minutes until show-time, Sugar Britches!” she sang. I laughed uncontrollably, not even realizing what was so funny. Maybe I shouldn’t have had three shots , I thought as she layered on purple eye shadow. I knew I was going to look like a clown. Who wears purple eye shadow without looking like a clown? She swiped on mascara and smeared my lips in bright red lipstick. My face felt tight from all the tugging and pulling.
“ Are you ready, Ruby Red?” she asked once she leaned back to eye her work. Her smile was genuine and proud, like I was her baby girl all grown up. Maybe she really was my Fairy God Mother. When she turned that black chair around, my mouth hung open. I didn’t look like a clown. I mean I looked crazy, like a Texas Pageant Queen, but somehow I still looked beautiful. The eye shadow made my sage green eyes pop and the mascara made me look older and sultry.
“ This should fit, although it’ll be a little loose,” she said as she disappeared behind racks of clothing and then came back with a tight red dress. It was a cotton-blend material, and when I slipped it over my head, it clung to my skin like a wetsuit. It fell mid-way down my thighs and the spaghetti-straps criss-crossed between my shoulder blades.
“ Now! In true Fairy God Mother Fashion, I have a single pair of gemstone encrusted pumps. They’re size eight and they used to belong to Professor Luscious, but she moved to San Francisco and left them here.” I smiled at the drag name as she handed me the shoes. They were gorgeous and definitely a modern take on the glass slipper. Glittery gemstones, which looked like fake diamonds, coated the entire surface.
There was only one problem. “I’m a size seven, they’ll slip off,” I lamented.
Queen Bee arched her impeccable brow at me and shook her head. “Fake it till you make it, that’s how we work in this business.”
I thought she was referring to slipping some stuffing into my shoes so they would fit, but the next thing I knew she was slipping falsies down the front of my dress so that my size-A boobs now looked like a size-C at least.
“ You look like a mini-me! Now let’s go!” She tugged my hand and the room spun in a hazy mix of glitter and color. I had to hold her hand with both of mine so that I wouldn’t stumble in the stiletto heels.
The second we walked out of the VIP dressing room, cat calls sounded throughout the bar. Every single person stopped their conversations and held their drinks up in a wild salute to Queen Bee and me.
She kept tugging me behind her until we were on stage. A short guy dressed as an angel, complete with giant white feathered wings, handed a microphone to Queen Bee and then bowed in humble servitude. Any cheers that had followed us onto the stage completely died out as Queen Bee started to speak.
“ Good evening!” she whispered seductively into the mic. “As you all know, every Tuesday at the Trancing Pranny we hold a little contest…” The crowd erupted in response. Whatever contest I was about to judge was clearly loved by everyone. “We have very well-endowed contestants tonight, but before we begin, I’d like to introduce you all to my guest judge for the evening.” The spotlight swooped over to me in response. It was so bright that I had to hold my hand up to shield my eyes.
“ Her name is Ruby Red and she’s my little Cinderella, so let’s all give her a big welcome!” The crowd whooped and hollered. For one moment I wavered on a precipice. I could sober up and remember the tragedy of the day. I could leave immediately and go home to my empty apartment and cry for Caroline in peace. Or I could let the tequila, the bright lights, the make-up, and the crowd, take its effect and pull me away from the demons crouching in wait just outside of the club. Luckily for me, the decision wasn’t mine to make.
A second later, a wild club beat started bouncing from the speakers and right on cue, a stream of deliciously sexy men danced out from behind backstage.