by Carrie Pack
Marty laughs, and this time it’s warm and friendly.
“I’m sorry I offended Jackie,” Marty says after a bit.
“Thanks, but maybe you should tell her that.”
Marty nods slowly. “Yeah.” She takes a drag of her cigarette and blows the smoke over our heads where it floats for a second before dissipating. “I feel like no matter what I say, Jackie and Venus are going to jump all over me for it.”
“Maybe, but you have to try. And maybe listen once in a while.” I stub out my cigarette and dust off my hands. “You ready to go back in?”
She lifts her hand with the cigarette between her index and middle fingers. “I think I’m going to finish this first.”
“Okay. Maybe… try to be a little less confrontational, okay? Jackie and Venus are your friends.”
Marty raises an eyebrow as though she doesn’t believe me, but then she smiles. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Tabitha.”
Mom lets me borrow her car for the show in Aurora so that Jackie can leave immediately after with the band. Well, she doesn’t exactly know it’s for the concert or a date with Jackie. I told her I needed to borrow the car, and she didn’t ask. Jackie’s car is in the shop, so she’s not taking it on tour. It’s weird to be the one driving with Jackie riding shotgun, but it’s the good kind of weird. She massages the back of my neck with her left hand and sings along with the radio.
“Your voice is beautiful,” I say. “You should form your own band.”
Jackie shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t really like being onstage.”
“Neither does Cherie. But she says it’s different with a band. She doesn’t feel so on display.”
“That boyfriend of hers seems pretty cool,” Jackie says. The change in subject is her way of telling me the topic of her singing in a band is dead.
“Yeah, I think it might have something to do with being raised by two moms. He’s pretty progressive for a guy in a punk band.” And since he convinced his bandmates to give Shut Up a spot on their tour, the Riot Grrrls have collectively decided we like him.
Jackie nods and then turns to stare out the window. She doesn’t say anything else until we pull up outside The Pit. The marquee boasts the names of the bands: The Nitwits, Donkey Kart & Shut Up.
“Well, the girls easily have the best band name of the three,” I say.
“Mm-hmm.”
I kill the engine and turn toward the passenger seat. “Jackie, you’ve been awfully quiet tonight. Are you okay?”
She shrugs, her preferred method of communication tonight. “I guess so. I wish you were going on tour with us, that’s all.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I’d chickened out about asking my mom. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t find the courage to ask. Or maybe I’m worried she’ll say no and then I’ll feel even worse. Or maybe she’d say yes. I’m not sure I’m ready for Jackie to know what my morning breath smells like. Would she expect things? We’ve done lots of stuff from the waist up, but the idea of being totally naked and having orgasms together, I don’t think I’m ready for that. Not yet.
“I know,” Jackie says when I don’t respond. Her voice sounds heavy, and my heart twinges. “Let’s just enjoy the show, okay?” She smiles at me, but it’s forced. It’s better than no smile, I guess. At least she wants to be happy.
I open my door and step out into the sweltering July night. “I’m glad this venue has air conditioning.” Apparently some of the later dates are in venues with barely any circulation, let alone cool air pumped in. I think I’d die.
“Come on,” Jackie says, wrapping her arm around my waist. “Let’s get you inside before you melt.”
Cherie does her usual spiel calling the girls down to the front, and the crush of bodies closes in on us. It’s hot and sweaty, but I don’t care. Jackie squeezes my hand, and we share a smile just as Shut Up rips into their first song.
My friends are cool. They’re in a band and they are legitimately, undeniably cool. And not in an abstract, I-like-this-music kind of way. But in an own-the-stage, make-you-want-to-start-your-own-band kind of way.
Dancing comes easier this time. I raise my hands over my head and thrash with the crowd, not caring what I look like or who’s watching. This is my territory… and theirs. In this moment, girls own this place and that’s powerful. For the first time in my life, I’m part of something bigger than myself. It may not solve world hunger, but it matters. Just like Kate’s obsessive need to protest, and Marty’s passion for Riot Grrrl, and Cherie’s unapologetic femininity, everything has its place. Even “Flabby Tabby” dancing at a concert is part of it.
I look around to take it all in. Jackie and I are once again front and center, but this time we are surrounded by dozens of girls who came to see Shut Up play. I recognize a few of them, but most are just here because they heard about a punk girl band and want to be a part of the moment. I can’t believe it. I’m part of something, and it’s not dorky or cheesy. It’s real. I’m real.
Over the roar of the band and crowd, Jackie’s voice meets my ears. She’s singing along and dancing wildly. Joy radiates from her like heat from the sun. She’s part of it, too. Without asking, I know she’s experiencing the same feeling. Now, more than ever, I love her. I still can’t believe she wants to be with me, but I know it’s true. And more importantly, I believe it. I feel it deep in my bones.
When it comes down to it, I don’t want to say goodbye. “Don’t go.” I lean my forehead against Jackie’s.
“I’ve got to go on tour. I promised Vee.”
“What about me?” I choke back tears and try not to pay attention to the band waiting impatiently behind us.
“You’ll be fine,” Jackie says, stroking my cheek.
Marty rolls her eyes. “Seems kind of shitty to me that you’d leave your girlfriend all alone to follow us around on tour.”
“See?” Venus says. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Nobody asked your opinion. But you gotta offer it up. Like we all supposed to listen to your ass just because you talking.”
Both Marty and Jackie turn to face her. Marty looks terrified; Jackie is grinning. Marty swallows hard and opens her mouth, but Venus cuts her off.
“No. I’m done with your bullshit, girl. You say racist shit all the time and you talk over everyone and bark orders at me like I don’t have a brain of my own. This is why I want Jackie on tour with us. I need backup when you start all your white-girl craziness.”
“But—”
“Uh-uh.” Venus holds up her index finger in front of Marty’s face. “Unless it’s specifically related to the band or a life-and-death situation, you don’t speak for the next twenty-four hours.”
Marty looks to Cherie and Kate for support. But they pretend to find the ground very interesting.
“This is for your own good, Marty. So I don’t kill you.”
Jackie hides her laughter behind her hand, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from saying something stupid. I’m not entirely sure what this blow-up is all about, but I have a feeling it’s been brewing for some time. Jackie’s hand rests comfortably on the small of my back and she leads me away to Mom’s sedan.
“That was weird,” I say when we’re a comfortable distance away.
Jackie furrows her brow. “What?”
“Venus blowing up like that on Marty. That came out of nowhere.”
“Oh,” Jackie says. “Yeah, it wasn’t really out of nowhere. Venus has been holding back for a while.”
“Why does she hate Marty so much?”
“She doesn’t. It’s just… Look, I know Marty is your friend and all, but she says some really problematic shit sometimes. It’s racist and ignorant, and with Monique back in Detroit and you occupying my time, Vee’s been dealing with most of it herself. She’s tired.”
“Don’t you think you’re a little hard on Marty, though?”
/> Jackie takes a step back. “Actually, I don’t think we’re tough enough!”
“Oh, come on. She’s not racist. She’s just…”
Jackie places her hands on her hips. A challenge. “Just what? Tell me what she is, Tabitha.”
“She’s white,” I say. “Like me.”
“Maybe that’s the problem.”
“What are you saying?”
“We’re… different. That’s all. Venus and I deal with a lot of shit living in Decker that you probably don’t even notice.”
“You think I don’t see it? Shit, the other day when you came to pick me up for our date, my manager thought you were shoplifting just because of what you look like. I know what you’re up against.”
“It’s not the same as living it, though, is it?” Jackie looks sad and defeated. I’ve disappointed her somehow and I don’t know how it happened. I reach for her hand, but she doesn’t twine her fingers with mine the way she usually does.
“Jackie, I’m trying,” I say. “Please don’t shut me out.”
“I know, but we keep coming up against issues. And I think maybe those things are differences in the way we see the world. Maybe it’s good that we’re taking a break from each other.”
A break? I don’t want a break. I want Jackie. But I don’t want her to see the disappointment in my face, so I focus on the space between our feet, and what I say is, “Sure.”
Shut Up #2
Tour diary Day 0
Hey, party people! Well, it’s here: the Shut Up Semi-Midwestern American Tour. We can’t wait to see you at one of our shows. Don’t forget it’s girls to the front, as usual, and we won’t stop rocking until the venues kick us out, so bring your ass-kicking/dancing shoes. Oh, and feel free to bring your fellas to the show. Just remind them that our set is all about the ladies and they’ll have to take a back seat.
Speaking of back seats, if you see a girl struggling with a guy in a car, don’t be afraid to interrupt the potential amorous happenings to protect a fellow grrrl in need. If it’s consensual, you’ll only have egg on your face, but if it’s rape, you’ll be helping someone from a humiliatingly terrifying ordeal.
And don’t forget to look out for each other at parties and concerts and whatnot. We’ve got to stick up for each other. We saw this girl the other night getting catcalled by some asshole and we got up in his face. You’d be surprised how quick these assholes back down when they find out we’re willing to stand up for ourselves. Just be careful. Only do this in large numbers. One or two girls will not seem threatening to a trucker or a frat boy.
Also, it’s not a bad idea to keep a rape whistle or some mace on you. It’s not your fault if you get assaulted but man, it ain’t gonna hurt to be prepared.
Thanks, and we’ll see you at the show!
Tour diary Day 1
Well, our first show in Aurora rocked. The fans at The Pit were great. A lot of them came out to see The Nitwits and Donkey Kart, but I think it’s safe to say we converted them. We sold all of the tapes we allotted for the show and had to dig into our stash for later gigs. We’ll try to have more in time for the shows late in the tour, but just in case, I’d plan on getting there early if you want one.
We’re also working on some new songs that we hope to have ready for our La Crosse show. So if you’re planning on coming out for that one, you’ll get to hear some brand-new stuff. That’s all for now.
Shut Up!
Chapter 16
I sleep in after the concert. I have the day off from work, and the only thing I have planned is roadside trash pickup duty. But that’s not until later in the afternoon. I snuggle into my pillows and catch the barest hint of Jackie’s scent. I miss her already, and she’s only about an hour away in Rockford. This is going to be a long three weeks.
I finally drag myself out of bed around noon and shuffle downstairs in a fog. As much as I love sleeping in, I almost always regret it. It always seems like a good idea until I spend the first two hours after I wake up in a complete and total stupor.
“Morning! Or should I say afternoon?” Mom smiles and hums to herself while she cleans the kitchen counters. Yesterday’s dishes are soaking in the sink.
“Hrngh.” I drag myself to the pantry and pull out a box of cereal. I think it’s Cap’n Crunch. To be honest, I don’t care as long as it’s food. I grab a bowl and some milk and plant myself at the kitchen table. Mom’s still humming. How can she be so chipper?
“I heard you come in last night. You were out kind of late. Where were you?”
“With Jackie,” I say around a mouth full of what is definitely not Cap’n Crunch. I think it might be Corn Pops, though. I take another bite.
“You’re with her a lot these days.” It sounds more like a question than a statement and it’s loaded and ready to fire. My defenses are immediately up.
“Well, she is my girlfriend.”
“Tabitha.” Mom stares at me as if she’s looking for a different answer. “Don’t be silly.”
I drop the spoon into the bowl and it splashes milk on the table. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Aren’t you just about done with this…” She pauses and lowers her voice to a whisper as if anyone could hear her from our kitchen. “Lesbian phase.”
I’m not hungry anymore. I pick up my bowl, plunk it down in the dishwater with a satisfying splat. I turn to face her with my hands on my hips. “It’s not a phase, Mom. And I’m not a lesbian; I’m bisexual. That’s not going to change.”
Her face lights up. “Well, that’s great then! You can choose a nice young man to date. What about that Bernbaum boy? Didn’t you used to run around with him?”
I roll my eyes at her and try my best to stay calm. “Mom, it doesn’t work that way. Besides, Mike and I aren’t even friends anymore.”
Mom frowns and goes back to cleaning the countertop.
“I thought you were okay with this,” I say. “You said Kate and I were cute together.”
“You are cute together. I don’t understand why you have to date this Jackie person.”
I take a deep breath. “Because I love her, Mom.”
Mom waves me off. “You’re sixteen. You have no idea what love is.”
“You got married at eighteen. Jackie’s eighteen.”
“That’s different, Tabitha. It was a different time. And you can’t marry Jackie.”
Her words hit me in the center of my chest, and I’m shocked to find I’m still standing. Certainly a blow that hard would have thrown me across the room.
Finally I find my words. “Maybe I can’t marry Jackie, but I’d rather be on tour with her and the band right now than standing in this room with you!”
I turn on my heel and practically run back to my bedroom and slam the door. I haven’t done that since I was twelve. It feels good.
When I come downstairs later, Mom’s car is gone and the kitchen is clean. There’s a note on the counter:
Tabitha,
I had to show a house, but I’ll be home for dinner tonight. We can talk then.
Love, Mom
I crumple it into a tiny ball and leave it for her to find. I’m still angry and I want her to know it.
With Marty, Cherie, Venus and Jackie on tour, it’s my job to handle Riot Grrrl’s weekly assigned stretch of road cleanup that’s part of our agreement for use of the rec center. I recruited two other girls to help so we won’t have to spend all day in the hot sun, but only Bennett has shown up. She only started coming to our meetings a couple weeks ago, and I think she’s trying to score points, but I don’t care. At least she showed up.
Fifteen-year-old Bennett is a short, pale, round-faced girl with jet black hair and golden-hazel eyes who seems to have an obsession with Hello Kitty. Everything she wears has the tiny Japanese cat depicted on it. But that’s the sum total of what I know
about her.
She steps out of her mom’s station wagon wearing yet another Hello Kitty shirt and skips over to me. I’m already wearing my county-sanctioned safety vest and I hand the other one to Bennett.
“I wish this came in pink,” she says with a frown.
“Yeah, they’re not very stylish.”
“Or flattering.” Bennett drapes the neon orange vest over her shoulders. It won’t close around her belly but it nearly hits her knees.
My vest is the larger size, but there’s no way I’m giving it up. She’ll have to deal.
“So normally we split up, but since it’s just the two of us, I think it’s best if we stick together. Grab a trash bag and some gloves, and we’ll get started.”
“Do I get a stabby stick?” Bennett asks, making a jabbing motion with her empty hand.
“Over by the tree,” I say. “With the trash bags.” I toss the third vest onto the grass near our stuff and head west. Bennett catches up to me and stabs at the small amount of trash we find. Every time she spears something, she giggles.
I’m so not in the mood for this.
“I don’t think my mom believed me when I said I was picking up trash,” Bennett says after a few moments of silence. “She wasn’t going to bring me, but I convinced her at the last minute. Joke’s on her, though, because you were here and now here we are picking up trash.”
“Here we are,” I mutter.
“How come you aren’t on tour with the band? I thought you were friends with all those girls. You’re always together.”
“I um… I have to work.”
Bennett nods. “Makes sense. I’m sure touring with a band that’s just starting out wouldn’t be very lucrative. It’s not like they’re Nirvana or anything.”
I stab a faded Fritos bag and then an empty paper cup. I drop them in my trash bag.
Bennett keeps chatting.
“Of course I don’t know if I’d let my girlfriend go out on the road with so many pretty girls. Not that I’m gay or anything. I have a boyfriend. But I’m just saying.”