Music from Another World

by Robin Talley

  Everyone at the whole table was laughing now, me included.

  I can’t believe how easily Tammy manages to fit in anywhere she goes. Two weeks ago, she was a pampered Orange County girl in designer clothes. This afternoon I saw her wearing a stained apron and joking around with Javi while she swept dead flies out from behind the display window. Now here she was, effortlessly talking tattoos with the lesbian feminists. She didn’t seem nearly as nervous as I’d felt the first time I came to the bookstore.

  “Are you sure you want a tattoo?” I asked her, when the laughter died down. “What if you got it and then changed your mind later?”

  Lisa gave me a wry smile. “You think it might be a passing phase?”

  “What?” I had no idea why, but Alex and the others were laughing harder than ever.

  “Heads up, everyone, I’ve finally got the sign-up sheets for the bus trip to Napa,” Evelyn called from the cash register where she was shuffling through a stack of envelopes. Becky stood next to her, counting out dollar bills. “It’s tomorrow, and we need more people.”

  “Where’s Napa from here?” Tammy asked.

  “North.” Lisa pointed. “An hour and a half away. Easy trip. We’ll knock on doors, give the usual talking points.”

  “I have to work tomorrow,” I reminded Tammy. “You do, too.”

  She sighed. “Shit.”

  “We’ll have plenty more door-knocking trips, don’t worry,” Evelyn added. “Plus we need volunteers to travel for the debates in the fall. Harvey and Sally against Briggs and his cronies.”

  “That sounds so cool.” Tammy licked an envelope so fast I was afraid she was going to give herself a paper cut, but she sealed it quickly and reached for another. The stack of finished mailings next to her was already high. She’d clearly had a lot more envelope-sealing practice than the rest of us. “I can’t wait to see them hand Briggs his ass. He’s been my senator for years, and he’s never had the first clue what he’s talking about.”

  The smiles around the table faded. “Your senator?” Lisa asked.

  “Well, formerly. I’m from Ocean Valley, in Orange County. I was lucky to escape with my life.”

  Tammy laughed, but this time it was a tacked-on laugh. As if she wasn’t sure if she was joking or not.

  Alex leaned toward her, looking a little uncertain herself. “What brought you here, then?”

  “Sharon.” Tammy turned that sunny smile my way. It was the first time she’d looked at me since we set foot inside the store, and the sudden shift made me blush. “We were pen pals, so the second I got loose from my family, I came straight here. I knew she was the one person I could absolutely trust.”

  I was blushing so hard by the time she finished talking I’m surprised I didn’t burn to a crisp, but no one was looking at me. Every single person around the table was nodding at Tammy.

  Becky came over from the cash register and draped herself over the back of Tammy’s chair, leaning in to look at her intently. “When did you get to the city?”

  “Two weeks ago.” Tammy grinned. Her hesitance from earlier was long gone—if it had ever been there—and she seemed totally unfazed by all the attention focused on her. “Now here I am, surrounded by cool women working against Briggs. Should’ve run away years ago.”

  There were more laughs around the table, but Becky didn’t join in.

  “That was me a while back.” She slid into an empty chair next to Tammy. “Except I was running from small-town Utah. How are you holding up?”

  “Not bad, thanks to Sharon and her family.” Tammy smiled again. She was talking about this as though it was nothing more than a funny story. When she’d told me what happened, she was in tears. What on earth was happening? “Her mom’s letting me crash, and I’m trying to save money while I figure out what to do next.”

  “Are you in school?” Lisa frowned.

  “I was. You should’ve seen my school down there. The textbooks are all thirty years old, but they get new Bibles every year. And we have to wear skirts that cover our knees, but the girls bring in straight pins and roll them up when the teachers aren’t looking.”

  Everyone laughed again, and Tammy launched into the story of the pep rally she had to organize in support of Prop 6. She made that sound funny, too, doing an imitation of her uncle’s midprayer smoker’s cough that was so good, even I laughed.

  This story had sounded entirely different—and entirely unfunny—when she’d written about it to me months ago. Having her here, physically here, was like getting to know her for the first time all over again.

  By the time Evelyn disappeared into the back room and came out again with two six-packs, Tammy had already made plans to visit the SFAI darkroom with Alex so she could experiment with using photo paper in her collages, and traded running-away-from-conservative-family stories with both Becky and Lisa. When Evelyn finally shooed us all out so she could close up, Tammy and one of Lisa’s housemates were in the middle of an intense debate about whether Princess Leia qualified as a feminist, given that she was a princess who got rescued by a man.

  As far as I could tell, Tammy might as well have been born in this bookstore.

  I said goodbye to the others, but Tammy lingered to get Alex’s phone number so they could make darkroom plans. I stuffed my hands into my jacket pockets while I waited.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised Tammy loved being there so much. I love it there, too. But the way she made instant friends with everyone...

  I guess I was jealous. For so long, I’d thought of her as my friend. Now it was obvious everyone who met her liked her just as much as me.

  It had even happened with Peter. He’d thanked me for helping Tammy. As if I’d done it for him.

  “Thank God we’re out of there,” Tammy said when the others were finally out of earshot.

  I turned, astonished. She met my gaze, and there was something different in her smile. A warm, crinkled note in her eyes that hadn’t been there when she smiled at the women in the bookstore.

  “Oh, no, don’t get me wrong.” She brushed a chunk of thick blond hair out of her eyes. “Everyone was great, but that was kind of exhausting, you know? I kept thinking I had to be so cool all the time. I couldn’t relax for a second.”

  I laughed, and the thick coil of tension in my chest loosened and floated off into the fog. “Come on, that wasn’t hard for you. You’re automatically cool.”

  She laughed, too. “You’ve got to be kidding. You’re the one who fits in there perfectly. They treat you like part of the family.”

  I blushed, turning away so she wouldn’t see, but she only laughed again. “You blush easily, don’t you?”

  “Um.” I scratched my neck, blushing harder. “Yeah. Ever since I was a kid. It’s so embarrassing.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s cool. You wear your heart on your sleeve. Well, some of your heart, anyway.”

  Now I was blushing so hard there was no point turning around. My cheeks were burning so bright they’d be impossible to miss. “I wonder which part.”

  “I wonder, too.” She grinned again.

  We caught the bus, and for once, it wasn’t awkward. We talked, we laughed, and we smiled for the entire twenty-minute ride. When we got home and stepped into the dark, empty living room, though, we fell quiet, the sensation of being alone together rushing back like always.

  It hurts to be alone with Tammy. I don’t know why, and I don’t know how to make it stop.

  She must’ve felt it, too, because she went straight for the stairs. “I’m so tired all of a sudden. I’ll probably fall asleep the second I lie down.”

  “Okay.” It was obvious she didn’t want to be alone with me. “I’m getting a snack. Maybe watch TV.”

  “Cool. See you tomorrow.”

  “See you.”

  But I didn’t get a snack after she disa
ppeared upstairs, and I didn’t turn on the TV, either. Instead I grabbed a few sheets of paper out of the kitchen drawer and sat down to write this.

  Since Tammy got here, I’ve been keeping my diary hidden on the highest shelf in my closet. That’s where I’ll stick these sheets of paper, too. She’s been upstairs for an hour now while I’ve been down here writing, so it’s probably safe to go up, but I’m not any clearer on what’s going on between us than I was before.

  Who knows? Maybe if I hope hard enough it’ll all start making some kind of sense tomorrow.

  Yours, Sharon

  Sunday, June 18, 1978

  Dear Tammy,

  Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh.

  Sorry, I know it’s odd for me to write you a letter while we’re living in the same house, but I’ll probably be gone by the time you get back from work (I’m meeting Kevin), so I’ll leave this on your pallet. If we’re lucky you’ll see it as soon as you get back.

  Tammy...something’s wrong. Really wrong.

  Half an hour ago, while Mom was out at the meeting for the church auction, I was alone—well, Peter was here, but he was upstairs getting ready to go out—and I was rummaging around in the kitchen for something to eat when the phone rang. I grabbed it off the hook and looped the cord around the door of the fridge. “Hello?”

  “Hello.” The woman’s voice on the other end was tinny, hard to make out over the hissing sound that always hangs in the background when someone calls long-distance. I grabbed a leftover chunk of roast beef off the top shelf. “May I speak with Sharon, please?”

  “This is she.” I carefully balanced the plate as I swung the fridge door closed.

  “Ah, wonderful.” The woman paused. There was a smile in her voice, but it sounded thin. As though she had to remind herself to do it. “I apologize for disturbing you. My name is Mrs. Dale.”

  I didn’t recognize the name. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your call, ma’am?”

  “You’re very polite.” Mrs. Dale chuckled. “Your mother raised you right.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I didn’t laugh as I opened the silverware drawer and grabbed a fork. Something about Mrs. Dale’s voice made me want to keep my guard up.

  “Is the rest of your family at home this evening, Sharon? Or are you there alone?”

  I set my plate on the counter and crossed my arms. “I’m terribly sorry, but what is this call regarding?”

  “Now, Sharon, there’s no need for you to be nervous with me.” The woman chuckled again, and if I hadn’t been nervous before, I definitely was now. “We’re practically family ourselves. Your good friend Tammy is my niece.”

  I swallowed hard. Panic simmered in my stomach.

  Mrs. Dale. Of course.

  But...why would your aunt call me?

  The panic rose slowly toward the base of my throat.

  “I hope you’re still there, Sharon.” The smile in her voice was razor-sharp. “I’m only calling to make sure you’re safe. Are you alone, or is anyone with you?”

  Something about the way your aunt talks made it seem as if I had to answer her. Like if I didn’t tell her exactly what she wanted to know, I’d be in enormous trouble. “My brother’s here.”

  “Yes, of course, your brother.” She sounded delighted at this news. “Splendid. Now, Sharon, I won’t keep you. My top concern, again, is that you’re careful. I do hope you’ll keep in mind that you can’t allow yourself to be led astray this summer while you’re away from the positive influence of school. You’re a bright girl with a promising future ahead of you, and it would be a shame if anything were to interfere with that. The choices you make right now could determine everything.”

  I stared down into the receiver. “How did you get my number?”

  “I must be going, dear. Please do think about what I said, and God bless.”

  The receiver clicked. The hissing stopped.

  Aunt Mandy hung up on me.

  I dropped the phone back into its cradle, my hand shaking.

  What the Hell was that?

  I tried to replay her words in my head, to make some sense of what had happened, but it was already swimming together.

  Let’s talk as soon as we can. I’m scared, Tammy.

  Yours, Sharon

  Sunday, June 18, 1978

  Dear Diary,

  My hand is shaking, trying to write this down. I’m back at home, and Tammy should be, too—but she’s not.

  She doesn’t know her aunt called. I have to tell her. Being the only one who knows is eating me up inside.

  But all I can do now is wait, so I’m going to try to keep my head busy writing about the rest of tonight.

  As soon as I’d left the letter on Tammy’s pallet, I grabbed my jacket. Peter had already left, so I headed for the bus stop and made my way to the restaurant where Kevin works. We hadn’t made plans to meet up tonight, but I couldn’t stand to be alone.

  I didn’t know what time he’d finish his shift—they usually aren’t very busy on Sunday nights, so sometimes he gets out early—but I wound up waiting more than an hour on the hood of his Camaro a couple of blocks from the restaurant. When I finally saw him, I did my best to act as if nothing was wrong.

  “Sharon?” Kevin frowned as he approached, like he wasn’t quite sure it was me. He was dressed in his shiny black vest and bow tie, his apron bunched in his hands.

  “Hi.” I slid down from the hood, smiling. It’s usually easy to smile at Kevin, but not tonight. “I wanted to surprise you.”

  He smiled back, but his smile didn’t look much easier than mine. “That’s great. I’m beat, but it’s good to see you.”

  “I thought maybe we could go somewhere.”

  “Sure.”

  He unlocked my door first, the way he always does. As I slid into the passenger seat, I took a deep breath, trying to push back all the thoughts creeping into my head.

  “Where do you want to go?” he asked, a Santana tape blaring as he twisted the key in the ignition. He smelled faintly of salad dressing.

  “How about the park?”

  He glanced at me and nodded, smiling more easily this time.

  My heart pounded, and I tried to focus on the music’s soaring rhythms as we steered down the hills. Ever since I finished that letter to Tammy, I’d been trying to convince myself I wanted to see Kevin, but now I wasn’t so sure. I’d almost managed not to think about that phone call during the hour I’d sat on his car, but now I couldn’t stop.

  I was terrified of what it could mean for Tammy. To be honest...I was terrified of what it could mean for me, too. Was her aunt making some kind of threat?

  The guitar music pouring out of the tape player was smooth, melodic. Pretty. I tried to focus on it, but thinking about music made my mind shift into thinking about Midge Spelling. That was no good, either.

  The images were fresh in my mind. The way she looked on that poster. The way Johnny had wrapped his arm around her waist, leaning into her as though they had their own private language. The way her lips curled around every sound she uttered.

  Kevin pulled over beside a park a few blocks south, and I leaned over to kiss him before he’d even turned off the engine. He laughed, but he went along with it, twisting the key with one hand and sliding the other around my waist. I shut my eyes, until I realized I was still thinking about Midge.

  I was kissing him, but I was thinking about kissing her. I was wondering—and not for the first time—whether kissing a girl would feel different from kissing a boy.

  Would she be that much gentler? Would her skin feel that much smoother?

  I wrenched my eyes open. Kevin was so close all I could see were his pores and his eyelashes. I’d never noticed how thick they were.

  This wasn’t fair. He had no idea what was happening in my head. I couldn’t tell him, but I coul
dn’t let it keep going, either. I may not know what it means to be “in love,” the way the disco singers talked about, but I knew what I had with Kevin wasn’t it.

  I pulled away.

  “I, um.” I took a long breath. I’d never imagined saying these words, but suddenly I was absolutely sure they were the right ones. “I think we should break up.”

  He froze, his arm still around my waist. A second later he drew back sharply. “What?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re...” He shook his head, as though he was in a fog. “What?”

  I fumbled for my purse. “I’m sorry. I should go.”

  “Go where? What are you talking about? Things have been kind of off lately, sure, but...you show up out of the blue and say you want to come here, I thought—”

  “I’m sorry, Kevin.”

  “Please stop saying you’re sorry.”

  “I—Okay.”

  I wanted to apologize again. I wanted to say it as many times as it took until he believed me, but it was clear he wasn’t going to.

  I climbed out of the car, and by some miracle, I didn’t start crying until I’d made it halfway down the block.

  The bus stop was one street up. If I walked slowly enough, I might be able to make the tears stop before I got there.

  I shut my eyes, expecting Midge to float into my mind again. The usual image of her growling into a microphone, her lips curved wide.

  Instead, the face I saw Tammy’s.

  Tammy, laughing with the women at the bookstore. Tammy, rolling her eyes at Peter in the living room, Dallas playing on the TV screen behind us. Tammy, crying quietly in the O’Sullivans’ kitchen.

  Tammy, dressed in rumpled clothes on my doorstep, smiling faintly as my whole world changed to let her in.

  When I got home, the house was dark. I grabbed an open box of Lorna Doones someone had left out on the kitchen counter and dragged myself up the stairs. I’ve been lying on my bed ever since, writing, hoping—

  Wait. That was the door.

  She’s home. She’s here.