by Lee Lynch
“I can see you as a little girl.”
“A spindly-legged little kid with long blonde hair and a poodle skirt?”
Victoria looked shocked. “Poodle skirts?”
“Can you imagine?”
“Not at all, but I love the idea. Wouldn’t my mother have a fit if you appeared for dinner in one of those.”
“Speaking of which, what am I supposed to change to? I only brought my dungarees.”
“They’ll do. I, however, will change into some ‘slacks’ that will look more familiar to mater and pater and something a bit frillier on top. They may look at you funny, but don’t let it worry you. I hope you’ll never have occasion to be scrutinized by them again. My sun-shot love.”
“Huh?”
“You’re so bright that sometimes when I close my eyes I confuse you with the sun.”
“I’m not feeling very bright right now. I’m feeling more like a drink,” Annie said in a strained voice from the window where Victoria had left her to change.
“That you’ll have soon enough.”
“But not in the quantity I’m craving, my love.”
“You mean you want to get drunk?”
“You got it.”
“Why?” Victoria asked, returning to the window as she buttoned her blouse, a pale yellow one of light, soft material. She felt as if she were wearing Annie’s hair.
“I don’t know. I just get in the mood.”
“When things are going bad?”
“Or good. It’s good for despairing or celebrating.”
Victoria peered with concern at Annie who was averting her eyes. “Do you want to get drunk or go to a bar where you can be with our own people?”
“Good question,” Annie mused and fell silent. She looked up at Victoria’s glasses. “Why are you holding those instead of wearing them?”
“My mother gets upset when she sees me in glasses. I’m not sure my father ever has.”
“But you’re so nearsighted.”
“I’m used to it,” Victoria shrugged as she turned to finish her preparations. “People who aren’t half-blind don’t understand what the world looks like without these.”
“What about contacts?”
“Can’t wear them. Something about my eyes, they would be bad for them.”
“So you feel your way around in front of your parents rather than upset them.” When Victoria looked sharply at Annie she apologized. “Sorry, I’m feeling ornery. I’m not really criticizing you.”
“Yes you are, just as I’m criticizing you for drinking when you have a perfect right to want to run from these people.”
“Oh,” said Annie.
They stared at each other. “I’m not ready to wear my glasses in front of them.”
“And I want a drink, whatever the reason.”
Suddenly they both smiled and walked to each other, then hugged tightly.
“It’s going to be hard,” Victoria whispered, her voice low with emotion.
“We’ll probably end up hating each other sometimes,” Annie said, running her fingers along Victoria’s soft blouse. “But it will only deepen our love, these differences and adjustments.”
“Do you think so?”
“If we want it to.”
Annie set her jaw as she pulled away. “I think it will if we don’t direct it all inside our relationship.” Victoria looked puzzled. “I’m scared that we’ll spend every waking minute taking care of each other and our pet poodle and never do anything beyond ourselves.”
“Do you mean that you want a focus outside ourselves?”
“Yes. Or focuses. Hell, I don’t care if we just volunteer for something, if our lives leave some mark somewhere besides on each other.”
“And that comes from your family being so inward.” Annie raised her eyebrows and tipped her cap forward. “I guess it does, Vicky. I never thought of that.”
“But it’s a fine commitment and I want to share it with you.”
“We need to talk about it more. Not just fooling around with Peg and those guys, but seriously, you and me.”
Annie looked so intent that Victoria wanted to smile out of love for her, but she knew how serious she was. “On the train tomorrow, Anne, if not before. We’ll come up with some ideas. We’ll really start to plan.”
Satisfied, Annie smiled and began to pace. “Is it time to approach the colosseum yet?”
“Are you feeling like a lion or a slave?”
“I’m feeling like the meat they use to lure the lion out of its cage.”
“Okay,” smiled Victoria as she put her glasses into their case. “Let’s get this over with.”
* * * * *
“A lady on the train told me,” Victoria answered her mother after dinner when they had settled in the parlor.
“What lady, what train, darling? I’m afraid I don’t quite understand you,” Mrs. Locke said, glancing minutely at Annie. “She told you that you were a— homosexual person— so you became one?”
“No, Mother, I was only joking,” Victoria said patiently, “but it was part of the whole sequence. You asked me when it happened, when I came out. It wasn’t a sudden thing. I love women because of everything that ever happened to me.” Mrs. Locke visibly shuddered while her husband looked puzzled.
“You see, dear?” she turned to her husband. “I knew it would have been worth the expense to have a coming out party for her.”
“That wouldn’t have changed anything, Mother. In fact, it might have pushed me to find out about myself sooner. I would have been so disgusted with parties I would have looked even harder for a way out.”
“These women,” Mrs. Locke asked, pointing her chin slightly toward Annie, “these women don’t go to parties?”
“That’s not the point.”
Annie had watched Victoria’s patience run out. She tried to picture herself talking to her own parents in order to find a way to help Victoria. “I think, Mrs. Locke,” she said, “that Victoria’s trying to say she felt she had no choices when you arranged her life for her. They never fit her, she never fit them. And the more plans you made for her, the more she would have wanted to get out of them.”
“If you’ve always been like this,” Mrs. Locke replied after nodding abstractedly toward Annie, “what do you mean about that woman who told you to be like this.”
“She didn’t tell me what to do. And she wasn’t all that important. I just mentioned her because she was one of the ways I began to see myself. She seemed able to see into me and my future, like a witch would do. Because of her my mind opened up to possibilities for myself I’d never considered.” Victoria’s father straightened his new tie and looked skeptical. “Then other things began to happen which opened my eyes further. For example, I met lesbians.”
“I can’t think that’s anything but a silly way to make such a decision.”
Annie started to speak, but Victoria went ahead. “Mother, I feel like we’re not communicating. I’m trying to explain only because you’re my parents, but maybe you’ll never fully understand, or maybe it’ll take time.”
“I appreciate it, dear. It’s all so foreign to me,” Mrs. Locke said.
“And I know how hard it is. Our whole society teaches us not to accept or understand or even see gay people. That’s why it took so much to wake me up, too.” Victoria paused and looked defiantly at her mother, ready for another challenge.
“Then you don’t think you’ll ever get married?”
Victoria looked toward Annie as if to ask, “Did she miss the whole point?” Annie shook her head sympathetically. Victoria answered quietly, “No.”
“It’s not as if she’s an only son turned pansy, you know,” Mr. Locke comforted his wife. “And I’m sure you’ll be discreet, Victoria.”
She doesn’t count for him at all, Annie thought. Mrs. Locke, meanwhile, seemed to take her husband’s pronouncements as a signal to end the discussion. She turned back to Victoria. “Won’t you tell us about your friend?”<
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“We’ve only known each other a few months, but it feels like a lifetime,” Victoria smiled at Annie.
“I remember what a rebel I was at school. I defied all the rules when I went to a local roadhouse with your father,” Mrs. Locke said. “I suppose my daughter cares for you in much the same way, to defy convention for your sake,” she continued as if to compliment Annie.
Annie squirmed under her gaze, trying to respond to her without showing hostility. She felt uncomfortably drowsy from cocktails and dinner wine. The room was full of summer heat under its air conditioning. She wished Mrs. Locke would get tired of being polite. The woman was not interested in understanding Victoria, only in fitting her into the stereotypes she already had. Annie saw her as a manipulator who loses interest in anything which doesn’t suit her purposes. She wanted to say, sarcastically, “I hope you’ll find me worthy of your daughter,” and in desperation was about to, when Mrs. Locke asked her to talk about herself. “I’m from Boston,” was all she could think of to say.
“What was your last name?”
“Heaphy.”
“What an Irish name. Yet you don’t look particularly Irish.”
I don’t believe this genealogical inspection, thought Annie. She looked at Victoria who seemed to be still recovering from her own ordeal. Annie decided to shock Mrs. Locke in revenge. “I’m Swedish or Norwegian. I always forget which,” she lied recklessly, and saw the shock pass briefly across Mrs. Locke’s face. “That’s where the blonde comes from,” Annie went on. “And how come I’m so quiet even if I am Irish.”
“You’ve lovely manners. You know, we had a Scandinavian girl for Victoria when she was small. I hope you don’t mind me saying so,” she tittered, “but I can never remember which one of those little countries she came from either.” Annie watched the woman relax a bit, less on her guard now that she had placed Annie in a category.
“She was Swiss, mother.”
“Nevertheless, I wonder whether some of this,” she paused to find a word, “fascination you feel for Anne, might not be connected to that little blonde governess. A parent never knows what’s right or wrong. Did you go to college?”
“To a local college. Then I went to the state school down here and dropped out.”
“Why?”
“Money.”
Mrs. Locke made a sympathetic face, but dropped the subject. It was too close to home. “Perhaps we should have coffee and dessert now,” she suggested, leaving for the kitchen.
Mr. Locke straightened, apparently ready to take over as host. “Which school did you go to in Boston?”
“Boston College.”
“That’s a pretty good school,” he approved. “What’s your father do?” He smiled for the first time.
“He drives a truck,” Annie offered humbly. She was too afraid of men to confront them. “In season mostly, for a construction firm.”
Mr. Locke nodded again, trying to figure out how to make that information last. “Know the name of the company? Fellow I went to Yale with is in construction up there.”
“I’m afraid not. It’s a small company. Someone from the neighborhood owns it. He does some building himself.”
“A contractor?”
“Could be. They grew up together.”
“Not too close to your family, are you?”
“No, I’ve been away for awhile.” Annie began to warm to Victoria’s father. His manner was not as hard as Mrs. Locke’s though he seemed to hide this in her presence. “I’m the first one to go to college. It makes me different from the rest of them. None of my cousins went. Except little Johnny who’s considering the priesthood.”
Mr. Locke brightened. “Have you visited St. Patrick’s Cathedral?”
“No, sir. I hear it’s beautiful.”
“A classic. I love to go there and sit on a hot day. Seems like their God keeps the coolness in there for His worshippers. Lovely place. Say, it’s Saturday night. They may keep the doors open late enough for you girls to see the place. I don’t believe my daughter ever saw the inside of an American cathedral. Perhaps she’ll take an interest now.”
“My father’s been trying to get me to visit St. Patrick’s since I was a child,” Victoria explained. “Religious architecture is a hobby of his.”
“Want to go see it after coffee?” Annie hinted to Victoria.
“Wonderful idea,” Victoria agreed, glad of the excuse to escape.
“What’s a good idea?” Mrs. Locke wanted to know as she carried in the coffee.
“Going to church,” Victoria laughed. Annie couldn’t help but join in and Mr. Locke smiled again. When they had explained their plan to the humorless Mrs. Locke she laughed briefly.
“You will take a cab?” she advised. “The element in this city at night would make your skin crawl.”
Victoria, communicating to Annie in a smile their membership in the element her mother warned against, assured her they would take a cab. As the visit wound down with more silences and small talk, Annie wondered if she would ever have a discussion like this with her own parents. She couldn’t imagine it or their reaction. Lesbianism would be so alien to their world Annie suspected they wouldn’t be able to take in the information. Life was hard enough for them without visiting this upon them. Nor did Annie feel any need to tell them, although she understood that for Vicky it was a necessary part of her separation from her family.
Annie looked at the Lockes. They seemed more comfortable now that they were ignoring the issue. Finally, they rose and Annie went to Victoria’s room for her hat. Everyone said goodnight at the parlor entrance. “We may go downtown for a drink after church, Mother,” Victoria said as they left.
“Even my mother would be shocked at that combination,” Annie laughed as they waited for the elevator.
“I couldn’t help it, duckling. One parting blow. I was enjoying rubbing it in after the way they were questioning you. I hope you didn’t mind too much?”
“Their behavior? I was angry, but I know they don’t know any better and I certainly didn’t want to mess things up for you by confronting them,” Annie said as the elevator closed behind them. Wordlessly they embraced one another. Toward the first floor they let go and looked at each other as if they had been apart for years. As soon as they were out of sight of the night doorman they began to run, hand in hand, downtown, exhilarated by the freedom of the night air and release. They ran past doormen fanning themselves with their hats, old people strolling to catch the cooler breezes that were descending with darkness, singles walking their well-groomed, panting dogs. Like magic, they skipped over crosstown streets without traffic, running down and down toward the display of winking red and green traffic lights that lined the avenue. At the bottom of Central Park they stopped and leaned on one another to catch their breath. “Are we really going to St. Patrick’s?” Annie asked.
“Would I disobey my father?”
“Only in bed,” Annie teased. They walked on. At the corner of 59th and 5th, they kissed, Victoria unheeding of the night strollers who stared as they went past.
“Oh, Anne, Anne, will it always be this delicious?”
“No, but pretty often,” Annie answered, her eyes slanting with silent laughter. “You’re a lesbian now. That means, to me anyway, that we can be whatever else or however else we want to be—except maybe in good shape,” she laughed, still tired out by their run.
“You know, the sweat is streaming down my sides and I don’t mind? It feels good! I don’t ever remember sweating like this. Only politely into my anti-perspirant.”
“A little damp around the armpits?” Annie mocked, folding her hands in prayer. “We’ll take care of that in a jiff. A special little prayer will do it, don’t you know. Come with me to the little church on the corner and we’ll pray for dry armpits. Pray to God!” she raised her voice like a preacher, “for dryness of the flesh and coolness of the passions. God,” she whispered in Victoria’s ear as they resumed walking, “will dry you up. Dry you
up,” she began to shout to Victoria’s delight on another street corner, “and blow you away in a little puff of breeze. Dust to dust.”
“Amen.”
“Ah woman,” Annie was back at Victoria’s side gazing salaciously at her breasts. “I covet you, woman.”
“My daddy wouldn’t like that.”
“Your daddy isn’t here, little girl.”
“Thank goodness.”
“Oh, he isn’t that bad,” Annie said, slowing. “At least he tried to be pleasant. Unless he forgot to be unpleasant.”
“I think the latter is more the case. Even though I’m not a son and therefore haven’t broken the line, I’m still bringing disgrace onto the family’s head. Especially if I write lesbian things. He’ll be humiliated.”
“Good,” Annie said, suddenly sounding bitter. “Let’s humiliate them all. They’ve done it to us long enough.”
“Wow. Where is all that anger coming from?”
“The last time I was humiliated by a man.”
“My father?”
“No, he didn’t have it together enough to humiliate me. Although I’m sure he could, given the chance. It was my landlord coming to collect the rent and reminding me that I have to leave his property when he wants me to. They’re so arrogant about their territory. And everything is their territory. They won it all and only let us use it when it’s to their advantage. Then we pay, one way or another. We’ve got to get something of our own.”
“I never thought about it that much. They almost own us, don’t they?” Victoria concluded quietly.
“Not us, not lesbians. We’re probably the biggest threat there is against them. We don’t need them for anything. We’re free of them in our heads.”
“But they pay us to work for them. And rent us apartments. My father’s still supporting me. And as long as he does I owe him something. I see what you mean, Anne. It’s great to feel free and run through the streets, but we don’t really escape their power over us.”