The Crown Is Mine

by Berlinda Wall

  As we left the park, there was a plaque that read "Here in 1857, James Pierpoint, organist and music director of the Unitarian Church first performed his composition ‘The One Horse Open Sleigh,’ or as it became better known "Jingle Bells" on Thanksgiving Day."

  "It was performed right here in this church. Unfortunately the Yankees in Medford, Massachusetts are trying to claim that the song was written there," Dick said. "Stupid carpet baggers trying to steal something else from the South."

  We went to Manny's, which was the place where all the politicos went when they came to town to stump up votes. They had a great mini shuffleboard game that we got to play. The next thing I knew shots were sliding down my way. So I consumed and consumed.

  Our bar tour continued. With each stop I became even more inebriated and disoriented. My day turned into a beautiful fog bank as we strolled the streets of Savannah.

  The next thing I remembered was Sheila waking me up. "Time to wake up, sweetie. We have dinner reservations to make."

  "What time is it?"

  "Seven. Our reservations are for 8:00."

  Where had most of my day gone and why do people here eat so late?

  The house was in a flurry with wedding guests running up and down the stairs.

  "Look, the only way we can do this is if we share the bath," Sheila said.

  The fog was lifting, and I could pull myself together to say, "That's okay. You don't have anything I want and what I've got you've already seen before, so we are good." Next thing, we were both naked, giggling up a storm in the bath. One hopped out of the shower as the other hopped in. We managed to process and make it downstairs in time.

  "I don't know what was going on upstairs," Dick said, "But the other guests said there was a lot of laughing coming out of the bathroom."

  "Just having some fun," I said.

  The rest of the evening was very tame, which was much appreciated after two days of binge drinking. The people in Savannah really take their drinking seriously.

  In the morning we said goodbye and thanked Dick for all of his hospitality. We then started our long, quiet drive home to Atlanta. The only thing that broke the silence was a text from Braxton. “Jamie decided to take some time off and discover his true self. He has left the hotel.”

  I hope he didn’t do it over what I said.

  CHAPTER 32

  My break was over and it was time to get more competitive. I needed some advice from someone who's been around for a while, so I set up another meeting with Marni. As I sat at the bar waiting for Marni, I was listening to "Smash" on my iPod. It was one of my favorite songs, "Let Me Be Your Star." I couldn't help but to sing along with it. This had become my unofficial anthem as I could relate to the TV characters and what they were going through. It's about the love of a man and them wanting to be chosen. That's what I want and that's why I love the build up to the moment where they crescendo to "Let me be your star," and with that, the song was over. They were singing about the desire to become something better. This contest was my star-making moment. Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

  "Hey girl," Marni said.

  "Sorry. I got lost in my own world there."

  "So you want some ideas?"

  "Yes. How do you think I'm doing? I have no idea where I stand in the rankings."

  "No one does. That's the beauty of this. I'll give you a hint. You are not at the top, but you are also not last."

  "That's good to know."

  "Look, you can keep doing all these small fundraisers, which will wear you out and kill your support staff, but you have to come up with something bigger. Less effort for more money. Here is a list of everything that has been done here at the club in the past to raise money."

  I took the list and scanned it over. A lot of the ideas I had were already there. The car wash. Jell-O shot nights. I began to panic a little until I saw something that I didn't know what it was. All it said was "Pageant" in quotation marks. I know they held pageants here in the past, but they all had a title like Miss Hotlanta and Miss Barfly, so I asked, "What is ‘Pageant’?"

  “‘Pageant’ was a musical about a fictitious Miss America-like beauty contest. Each contestant represented a state. It was hilarious."

  "So we could have the Cabaret Room for something else other than a typical drag show?"

  "Sure. As long as it doesn't conflict with something else scheduled. What are you thinking about?"

  "Miss Gigi and I both have an unnatural love for the cancelled way before it's time TV show ‘Smash.’ When she was doing my makeup, we were tossing around some ideas of how you could do it as a stage musical. I think I have worn out my DVD because I watch it so much."

  "Now you have something. It's new and fresh and it will put butts in the seats. I'm sure it will take you a little bit to work it, but when you’re ready, let me know and I'll give you a night. You could easily get a hundred people at ten bucks a head. That's a thousand dollars for the night depending on your costs. Remember to keep doing what you are doing to keep the money coming in, but get your stage show done as soon as possible," he advised.

  "You think we really could?"

  "I've done enough theater and you need to keep the staging to a minimum to keep your costs down. I've got a copy of ‘Pageant’ from when it was done here so that it will give you a great idea of what can be done to give you the biggest impact. Let me go get it from my office.” Marni was off to get the tape.

  I finally felt a renewed sense of energy and lightness that I hadn't felt in a long time. As I waited for Marni's return, Mr. Winston popped out of his office. I really hadn't spent much time with him, so now was my opportunity. "Hey Mr. Winston I want to say thank you for putting all this together."

  "You're welcome. It has been all my pleasure," he said.

  "I don't feel like I've ever gotten a chance really to get to know you. Do you have some time now?"

  "Not right now. I've got to go visit a friend in hospice."

  I didn't want to appear ignorant, but I had to ask. "What's a hospice?"

  "When you are too ill to take care of yourself and you are terminal they move you to hospice so that you can die with dignity," he informed me non-judgmentally.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."

  "You didn't. I've been in my own world today. Dying is just part of the human condition. No one gets out of here alive."

  "Can I go with you?"

  "Really?"

  "Yes. No one should be alone at a time like this."

  "That's very generous of you. It's just a short walk. Let me grab my cane."

  While I waited, Marni brought me the tape for ‘Pageant.’ I had some homework to do in reviewing the tape.

  It was very humid as we headed out the door. You could tell summer was right around the corner.

  "How did you end up owning a gay club? You're straight, right?"

  "Yes, I am homosexually challenged. The reason I own a gay club is because I got tired of making money for other people. My wife was a manager and I was the DJ. We worked at several places here in town and made the clubs some good money. We were the fixers. If you had a struggling club, you hired us, and we were able to turn your place around. We had plenty of people who were encouraging us to open our own place."

  "So you finally did here?"

  "This place was open and it was in the heart of Midtown, so we knew the clientele was going to be gay. My wife and I didn't care if it was a straight club or gay club, but just based on the location here, we knew our audience was going to be gay. So we marketed to that audience."

  He went silent for a little bit as we walked over the cracked brick sidewalk. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts.

  "Things were going great until Marie got sick. My wife's name was Marie. She was so beautiful."

  Then he paused at the intersection and looked both ways before we crossed.

  "Running a club is a tough business. People don't realize the hours that need to get put into a place so
that they can come in and have a great time."

  "What happened to Marie?"

  "Marie was the love of my life. She was an incredible woman who made my heart jump every time I saw her, even after the years we had been together." He paused for a second. "She kept getting these increasingly painful migraines that would take her down. We finally went to the doctor and they ordered an MRI. It revealed that she had an inoperable brain tumor, and within two weeks of finding out she was gone." He stopped and looked up at the stars.

  "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for you to have to go through it again.” I really didn't want for him to have to relive that painful moment in his life.

  "It's perfectly alright. I like to talk about Marie. As time passes you forget the bad things and only remember the good things. The other day Queen's ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ came on the radio, which was one of Marie's favorite songs. I realized at that moment that I have known that song for forty years already. You see, you will remember the good things no matter how old you get. He stopped and pulled out his wallet to show me a picture of Marie. She was stunning.

  "This is the way I will always remember her."

  "She was a looker."

  "Thank you. She would have liked you," he said. "And while we’re at it, let me tell you a couple of things that no one tells you about as you age. Once you're in your fifties, you will start taking naps. I have always hated naps because I wake up grumpy, but you will start taking them whether you want to or not. And your bladder control isn't as good as you get older. Remember to shake it several times before you zip up."

  "I will remember that."

  "We're here. Thanks for walking with me. Have a great night." He gave me a hug, and then entered the building.

  I'm glad we had this time together.

  CHAPTER 33

  Germaine called, which was strange because we both had the day off.

  "I really need to meet you for coffee," he said.

  "Is it something serious?" I asked.

  "I need to tell you something, but I want to do it in person," he said.

  "Give me an hour and I'll meet you at Java Jive."

  "Good," he said. "See you then."

  All I could think was that he had some dire health issue that he wanted to talk about, but didn't think he could discuss it at work. I hoped it wasn’t cancer.

  When I got there, he was already seated at a booth looking all prim and proper. His hand glimmered as the light caught the rings on his fingers. He appeared to be in good health for someone who was sick. I waved and signaled that I was going to the counter to get a water and a donut. I never drank coffee. When I was little, I told my Grandma I wanted to try coffee, but it turned out that I didn't like the taste of it. Grandma put in a bunch of Cool Whip, which in my mind turned it into hot chocolate, and that was the only way I could tolerate it. Since Grandma wasn't around that often, I didn't see the need to drink coffee unless she was there.

  "Are you alright?" I asked as I pulled my chair closer to the table. "You sounded so serious."

  "Yes, I am fine. I want to share something with you that is not to be discussed at work. I don’t want people to talk about it."

  "Is it cancer?"

  "Cancer? What are you talking about?" he asked.

  "I assumed that you were ill and didn't want people to know."

  "Heavens no, my little one. I'm perfectly healthy, and that is not why I asked you here. I want to tell you a story."

  "I like stories."

  "Once upon a time, there was an ugly duckling who was awkward and uncoordinated and very, very shy. She was having a hard time finding her place in the world. It wasn't until she discovered a very magic world called the club that she was able to find where she belonged. It wasn't easy at first, and the other ducks made fun of her because she wasn't as experienced at performing as they were. They were just nasty and evil to her. But she persevered. Over time, the ugly duckling watched and learned from everyone, and eventually the ugly duckling started turning into a beautiful swan. The other ducklings were jealous, and did everything they could do to tear down the rising swan with their pettiness. The rising swan marched on, and her rising star kept getting brighter drowning out the other ducklings. The rising swan reveled in her new found popularity and lorded it over all the other ducklings, destroying their egos at every opportunity. The rising swan became the most hated person in the magic club and even turned off her legion of followers. She even got into fights with the goose manager who eventually told her to pack her bag of tricks and leave the magic club forever. The rising swan soon became a recluse and faded out of memory realizing how she wasted her opportunity to do something with her brightness. Now no one remembers that once lovely swan."

  "That's a lovely story, I guess."

  "Do you understand what I am trying to tell you?" he asked.

  "Not really. I've never been a swan."

  "The story is about me. I have never shared this with anyone here in town, and I want this to go no further because I'm embarrassed by my behavior," he said.

  "You could never have been that bad. You are always so eloquent that I can't imagine you ever being petty."

  "Believe me, it happened, and I am not very proud of it. I sabotaged gowns, shoes and props. I was horrible."

  "It is so hard to imagine that from you."

  "I grew up in a small town in Kentucky, and being gay back in my youth was very different from what it is now. You take for granted all the things that we couldn't do back in our day. You couldn't put up a gay flag or put a sticker on your car without being afraid of getting shot. I had a boyfriend who got fired for being gay. One day they were taking him out for his birthday, and the next his boss found out he was gay and fired him on the spot. This generation takes it for granted."

  "I thought you grew up here?"

  "I just tell people that now. I've been here for so long that people don't know any different. Just listen to what I'm telling you," he implored.

  "Go ahead."

  "You will become a role model for some of these people who come out to support you. You have the power to do a lot of good, and I want you to realize that."

  "Power? How do I have power?" I asked confused.

  "You are raising money for a good cause, and those people who benefit from your efforts may not know who you are, but they are grateful for all that they receive. The people who come to see you get the information about the charity, and they in turn may be affected enough to go out and help them or donate more money. You are a force in this world for good. Don't let the attention you will be soon receiving go to your head and destroy everything that you can accomplish. Tyler, you are a lot like me, and your time is coming sooner than you know."

  "What was your drag name?"

  "It was Glory Swanson," he said.

  "And how did you come up with that name?"

  "Well, there were two food processing plants in town that I had worked at for a very short period of time. One was Glory Foods, and the other was Swanson Foods. It just made sense, and everyone in town got the joke."

  "Shouldn't it have been Gloria?"

  "No, Gloria Swanson was a silent movie actress back in the 1920's. Didn't you every see ‘Sunset Boulevard’?"

  "What is that?"

  "I forget that was way before your time. Just remember what I told you. You have the power for good, so don't let the attention go to your head."

  I left our meeting feeling good because I had never been told I was a swan before.

  CHAPTER 34

  The competition was heating up, and it was time for Precious Oil's show. I was running around getting ready and waiting for Albert to come over. He said he wanted to go, and I had to let him know I was working on a project with Miss Gigi. I was sure how he would take it, so I needed some back up. Marjorie agreed to hang around till he got to our apartment. I had a pit in my stomach.

  The buzzer for the door rang. I pushed the button so Albert could come up. I swear I could hear ev
ery step he made. Each one got louder and louder. The door knob turned for what seemed like an eternity, and the door swung open very slowly.

  "Hey gang," he said cheerily and came over and gave us both a hug. "It feels like I haven't seen you in awhile."

  "Can I offer you a cocktail?" Marjorie asked.

  "I thought you would never ask. I'll have a Chardonnay if you have some.”

  "I'm almost ready. I wanted to have a little chat with you before we left."

  "What about?" he asked.

  Luckily Marjorie came back with the wine for Albert, a screwdriver for me, and a beer for herself. She plopped herself next to Albert as if preparing to hold him back.

  "As you know, I am working on a higher dollar fundraiser show for the contest. I'm writing the show and then working with an editor who's helping me get the stage version of ‘Smash’ into a workable show."

  "That sounds like a great idea. I thought that show was very underrated," he said. "Do you need any help getting it ready?"

  "Not yet and thank you for offering, but I need to let you know that the editor I'm working with is Miss Gigi."

  For a minute I thought his head was going to explode, but he just sat there with this blank stare on his face. I could see the gears turning in his head as he connected the dots.

  "What the hell do you mean? She is bat-shit crazy. How can you work with her after all the grief she has caused me?

  "It was just a coincidence that we both have a mutual love of the show, and she has some really great ideas," I said trying to explain myself.

  "Great ideas? I could shit on a piece of paper too and that would be better than anything that would ever come out of her mouth."

  "To give her some credit, she has gotten off the coke, so she is a lot more focused and not as crazy as she was. You have to admit she has been leaving you alone lately."

  "Albert, please hear him out," Marjorie interjected.

  "I don't care. I don't want to have anything to do with her and neither should you. I can't believe you are making this decision to choose her over me."