Chapter Seventy – Eight of Pentacles

It felt odd to be working towards something again.

My brain kept trying to interject and tell me that what I was doing was not work, but my body was so happy to be active again, even if it was just so that I could sit and take money from men who wanted to watch strippers dance for them. As Rhonda had told me before, we all had to start somewhere.

“I don’t know why you’re bothering,” Lisa said. “We get free money every month. Why do you want to work?”

“I just want something to do,”

Lisa shook her head. “What could be better than sitting with me and reading?” She told me. “You be careful around Rhonda, I don’t trust her.”

I didn’t share with Lisa how Rhonda felt about her, nor did I tell her that I needed a break from her. I didn’t want to fight and that would be the only outcome. Trying to balance the relationships I had with people with trying to find balance withing myself was getting to be a lot of work. I was trying not to upset Lisa and at the same time, trying to establish something good for myself. I loved her, I just needed more for me.

Lisa let out a puff of smoke as I continued getting ready for work. “You just think you’re better than the rest of us, that’s all.” She waved her hand. “Not that I blame you. I mean, look at Francis, he thought he was than better than you and that’s why he dumped you.”

I chose not to respond to that comment. I knew that her words weren’t true and that Francis had loved me in his way. I slung my bag over my shoulder. I was wearing a pair of sparkly jean shorts that I had found at the mission and a white mesh tank top. I figured that I would get more tips as a door boy that way.

“Why do you dress like that?” Lisa asked. “I can see your nipples.”

I shrugged. “A lot of men there like looking at my nipples. I’ll be back later.”

She gave me a little wave, and I could not help viewing it as a dismissal. We had had words earlier about her smoking while pregnant. She was almost due. It would be any day now. She had been a little pissy with me afterwards. I knew that some friendships were a lot of work, but she was becoming even more work than usual.

“I read your latest story by the way. It wasn’t as good as your others. You can do better.”

I let out a sigh, grabbed my coat and left. I knew that she was being cruel because my view on her smoking while pregnant had hurt her, but trying to crush my spirit when I was really just beginning to find my own spirit was a low blow. I chose to walk out instead of confronting her. It was easier that way. She often found a way to be right, even when she was in the wrong.

On the walk to Frankies, I just reminded myself of the work that I had done to get to where I was. It wasn’t what I had thought I would end up doing with my life. I’d had plans as a kid in high school to teach drama and act on the stage or screen, becoming a playwright at the same time. I wasn’t living that dream, but I was living this one instead.

 I had come to realize that my road was only just beginning. I had gotten this far and there would be more work to do, but that would come in time. I knew that I was on the right path because I had chosen it for myself. I didn’t want to be afraid anymore.

When I arrived at Frankies, Jake was there to greet me when I entered. “One of the dancers was asking for you. He needs the crotch of his underwear checked before he goes on stage. Don’t want his dick showing before anyone has to pay. You don’t have to touch it, but let me know if can see his cock at all.” He said. “One of the drag queens, too. You’re in demand this evening.” He winked at me and I could feel my cheeks blush, the redness spreading across my face.

“It’s nice to be wanted,” I said. I made my way up the stairs to the second floor to find a drag queen waiting for me at my station. Mizti was fairly new at drag and she totally rocked it. We had bonded one night when she had come up to my floor trying to promote the drag show that was going on at the bottom level. We had become fast friends even though we only saw each other on the nights that I worked.

“Honey, does my makeup look okay?”

She was wearing a blond wig and had done her eyes all exaggerated. They made her look like she was a Japanese animation character, and she had done her lips to match, all big and red. She made a kissy face at me and I laughed.

“Your makeup looks wonderful, very saucy.” I said shyly. I adjusted her wig and gave her the go ahead. “I don’t know why you come to me for my opinion on makeup anyways.”

“Honey, you always tell it like it is. That’s a rare find and it can be so much work to speak and worry about hurting someone else’s feelings. You manage to speak your mind. You tell it like it is, AND you’re a gentleman doing it. Plus, Honey!” She motioned at my outfit and made a gesture at my face. I had applied smoky eye shadow in blues and greys. “You look amazing.”

I sat on my stool and counted out my float for the night. “You’re just saying that.”

She gave me a sour look. “No, I’m not. I mean look at you. The men will be tipping you well tonight, I mean look at those nipples! Look at your hips! I’d kill for hips like that.” She waved a hand with red talonlike nails. “I kid. I wouldn’t want to end up in prison; I’d look horrible in orange.” She let out a sigh and snapped her fingers in front of my face. I looked up from my float. “Good, you’re paying attention. I like when men do that. It’s easier to drop the mic if someone is listening.”

Letting out a chuckle, I put the money back in the till. “Okay, I’m listening. You have my full attention.”

“Good, that’s how I like it. Now listen here. Stop looking to other people for your own self worth.”

“I don’t do that.”

“Yes, you do. You work so hard at holding yourself so rigidly in hopes that, when someone actually notices you, you act like it’s some kind of fucking miracle. Then you keep trying to be what others find attractive. That’s too much work honey. You need to love your body, it’s the only one you will ever have. You can’t wait for other people to love you. You need to love yourself; do you hear what I’m saying?”

I nodded because I did hear her. I knew that there were many different ways that I could see myself and she was right. I tried to be what everyone wanted instead of listening to what I wanted.

“I do, and I’ll try. I promise.”

“Better not be pie crust promise, honey. You are amazing and your whole life is ahead of you. How about we celebrate your newfound resolve by having a drink. I’ll get you a screwdriver. You like those right? They’ll go with my outfit at any rate.” She had dressed in a flowing yellow dress that hugged all of her curves and fell to the floor in a pool of sunlight. She walked away from my station, her high heels clicking on the floor.

A couple of guys came stood in front of me, holding out five-dollar bills so that they could enter to watch the dancers. One of them was wearing a shirt that said “Fellatio is not an opera.” I had no idea what that meant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting. What’s fellatio?” I asked.

The man dropped a five in my till and another five in my tip jar. He got down on his knees and placed himself between my legs and ran his hands close to my crotch. I let out a laugh that surprised me. I was so nervous and yet, this sound of joy was able to leave my mouth. I was so thankful to this man. His blue eyes looked up at me with thirst, and he gave me a roguish smile.

“Have a good night, boys.” I told them. The music was loud and the air was warm and this man had given me a gift, and I had no words to tell him so.

He stood up, planted a small kiss on my cheek and went into the other room to enjoy the boys.

Chapter Thirty – 9 of Wands

I was tired the next morning.

I had a fitful night sleeping on the floor in Lisa’s bedroom. I was exhausted from all the changes that had happened in my life over such a short period of time. Lisa tried to get me out of myself. I found it hard to show enthusiasm about much of anything and I missed Sunshine and the life I had before.

During my time away from the streets, I had aged out of the Youth Services Bureau when I turned eighteen. It’s not that I couldn’t go back, but I was not allowed to stay. I was too old and the fact that I could never go back to that part of my life filled me with a malaise I couldn’t name. I was constantly being asked to change, to adapt, to embrace. I was being asked to move forward, but I wasn’t sure how.

“You have to stop holding on to everything,” Lisa said. “It’s not healthy. You need to focus on the now.”

We were sitting out front of her apartment having a cigarette. She didn’t often give me life advice, but she was the queen of living in the now. “Who knows what the future holds? You can’t imagine the worst that is yet to come. You’ve got enough on your mind, I can see that. You don’t do well with change.”

I thought of all the changes I had experienced in my life in the past while and thought I had done pretty well with change and told her so. “You haven’t lived my life.”

“I know I haven’t,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t see. You are walking around all world weary but you’re at the age where you are supposed to be experiencing life. C’mon, get your cards.”

I sighed, put out my cigarette and went to my purple backpack to retrieve my tarot cards and brought them back outside. Lisa motioned at me and said “Well, you know what to do. Shuffle and draw.”

Shuffling the cards, I thought about all the changes I had been through and the weight I was carrying and how to let go of it. I drew the 9 of Wands. It showed four men trying to shift the weight of a statue, but he wasn’t doing so alone. There were others helping him to shift the weight so that they could move the statue.

“See?”

“See what?” I asked her, not sure what she was getting at.

“You carry the weight of your journey, but you are being reminded that you don’t have to do it alone.”

“I always have,” I told her.

“Then maybe it’s time you don’t. I can carry some of your weight, Sophie will help. You have friends on the streets and in the Pagan community and we’re all with you because we know you.” She lit another cigarette. “Didn’t I tell you that you were a warrior witch? It’s because you know how to fight your battles, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t ask for help. You don’t have to do everything on your own or fight battles all the time. You should let people in and let them help you.”

I thought about what she said. “I’ve been taught to do everything on my own.”

“Just because that’s the way you were taught doesn’t mean that you have to live that way all of your life. It must be so exhausting. I couldn’t do everything on my own. I have Paul and my roommate Frank to help me when I need it and my boyfriend Carl when he’s here in town. You don’t have to do everything on your own, Jamieson.” She motioned at the card. “Let someone else hold the Wands for once.”

I looked again at the card and saw that without the other people in the card the man trying to move the statue would never have gotten it done. Was I making my life more difficult for myself by trying to do everything on my own?

I would have to decide what to do, whether or not I was able to let anyone else into my life the way that Lisa was talking about. I was tired, but proud. Was I too proud to accept help and support from other people? I looked at the man within the 9 of Wands and knew that I would need to change my habits.

“Look, I can see from your face that you are going deep into yourself. Come out with me tonight? We’re going to go and play pool.”

“I suck at pool.”

“So do I, but that’s not the point. The point is that sometimes, we have to laugh at ourselves to that we can find a way forward. Sound good?”