Of Drag Kings And The Wheel Of Fate Part 8

Taryn sat with the book, just holding it gently in her open hands, looking at Rosalind in a way that made her want to cry, to dance. Something remarkable had happened; an understanding had pa.s.sed between her and her drag king.

Rosalind felt like she had succeeded in letting Taryn know how much she wanted to know all of her. How welcome she was as who she was. She had found a way to get inside. She sat in the glory of that recognition, too scared that it might vanish if she spoke.

Maria came back with hot tea and poured into the silence between them. Taryn sighed, at last, and set the book aside. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Rosalind said, picking up her teacup.

The meal had been remarkable, but Rosalind couldn't recall much of it afterward. She remembered how Taryn looked in the candlelight-the shadows on the planes of her face, the sharp edge of her cheekbone, the way the new haircut left her neck exposed. The way her eyes got soft and swimming the minute they fixed on her.

"You know, Joe told me tonight about him," Rosalind said, remembering.

"About being trans? He must like you. He usually waits to mention it."

"I think he likes me because I like you. I get that impression from him. He loved playing papa while you were upstairs. I see a lot of him in you."

Taryn leaned back in her chair, a smile easing across her face. "There was this film they showed at Hallwalls, several years ago. Part of the Ways in Being Gay Festival. It's called Shinjuku Boys. It's about the drag kings who work at the New Marilyn Club in the Shinjuku district of Tokyo. This club is staffed by male impersonators who are hired to charm the customers, flirt with them, sing karaoke to them, get them to buy drinks. And all the customers are women."

"Gay women?"

"Nah, that's the thing. Straight women flock to this place. They eat the drag kings up. Call them, page them, send them gifts, try to get them into bed. There was this whole romantic culture built up about being with one of the kings, drove these women nuts." Taryn paused, sipping at her tea.

"Oh, I can relate. In a distant way," Rosalind said, fanning herself with her hand.

Taryn grinned. "They profiled these three drag kings. Tatsu was a transman. He was on hormones, his voice was lowered. I don't think he'd had surgery, but he was living as a man. He had this gorgeous nineteen-year-old girlfriend, Tomoe. She wanted to marry him. They seemed very devoted to each other, very happy. Joe's like Tatsu. He always knew he was a man, he just had to make the outside match the inside."

"I can see that. What about the other two?"

"Well, this one, Gaish, looked pretty femme, but dressed like a king. She lived with her partner, another performer at the club, a transwoman. They seemed pretty solid. But the third...she was a real dog. She had all these women calling her, paging her. She was cruel to them, but they were all over her."

"Wonder where I've heard that before?" Rosalind said, thoughtfully tapping her temple.

"Stop it. I'm not that bad. But I am like her. I know I'm a woman. But I'm a masculine woman." Taryn paused to see if Rosalind was following. She took Rosalind's hand from the tabletop, kissing it.

"What's that for?" Rosalind asked, pleased.

"For listening. For caring."

"Finish your story," Rosalind said tenderly, to keep from saying I love you.

"Joe said to me, after we saw that movie, that he thought it might be even harder for me sometimes than for him. Once he transitioned, the whole world saw him the way he saw himself. Few people are ever going to see me like I see me. I don't make sense, like he does. I don't fit what's expected out of a woman," Taryn said, spinning her teacup on the tabletop.

"I see you the way you see yourself," Rosalind said, every word from her heart. "I see a handsome young woman whose courage will change the world. I see a hero. I love...who you are." She realized what she had almost said and buried her face in her teacup.

Taryn looked at her, shaking her head. "You have this remarkable effect on people, worming right under their skin. I knew you for an hour, and I felt like I never wanted to stop talking to you."

"Not all people," Rosalind said, remembering Rhea. The evening was going so well, her first date with Taryn, that she didn't want to bring Rhea up just yet.

"I can't imagine anyone who wouldn't be charmed by you. You're just so...good. Loving. And you're smarter than anybody, but not pretentious about it."

"Why, Taryn, do you have a crush on me?" Rosalind asked in her best professor tone.

Taryn blinked at her, blue eyes innocent and wide. "Yes. But I'm all confused about it. You're so pretty, and everyone tells me it's just me admiring you, wanting to be like you, but all I want to do is take you home and f.u.c.k you till you scream."

"Taryn! You are bad," Rosalind said, delighted and scandalized. Her body responded to the suggestion with enthusiasm.

"I'm a dog. Come take a walk in the park with me. I promise I won't try and hold your hand."

"If you promise that, I'm not going anywhere with you," Rosalind warned, and Taryn hung her head.

"Okay. I'll be a gentleman. Not perfect, but a gentleman."

Delaware Park was a haven of green and black trees standing against a sky lit charcoal and orange from the city lights. Taryn led Rosalind down past the Rose Garden, where Shakespeare in the Park was performed during the summer. Taryn pointed to the hill, her arm disappearing against the gunmetal gray sky.

"People come and set out their blankets, bring a picnic and a bottle of wine, and watch the show. You'd be in Heaven. I always have trouble following the language, so I make Rhea translate, or I just drink the wine with Joe and ignore the whole thing. It'd be fun with you, though. You know all that stuff."

"I'd love to see a Shakespeare play with you. A comedy to start, I think, but I'd work you up to the tragedies. I'd have you reciting Hamlet by the end of the summer," Rosalind said, as they strolled down the path.

The hill was dark; the lights were fading between the trees. The park closed at ten, and she should have been afraid. But...she wasn't. It was being on Taryn's arm, the rightness of it, that made her feel immortal. Like nothing could touch her. It helped that Taryn looked male, especially in the darkness. Another couple walked by them, saw Rosalind on Taryn's arm, and nodded a greeting before vanishing into the trees. "They thought I was a nice young man escorting you. You can tell when people don't get it. They don't give you the double take."

"Does that bother you?" Rosalind asked, leaning against Taryn's shoulder.

"Nah. It's a benefit, at night. People don't f.u.c.k with you if you're a straight couple, not the way they would if they saw us as two women. It's when the sun is up, and they get a good look at me, that it gets more complicated."

Rosalind looked at Taryn's profile, etched against the darkness of the trees, her hair blending with the night. "You know, there's a Shakespeare play where a young woman named Rosalind dresses as a young man and has a few adventures in a forest. She takes the name Ganymede," Rosalind said, folding her hand over the arm of the handsome girl.

"So you should be the one in the suit?" Taryn asked, amused.

"I don't think I'd look nearly as good as you do. It's funny, Ellie told me I'd meet my Ganymede. And here you are."

Taryn tilted her head. "So you're Zeus? Funny, you don't look like him without the beard."

"You know the story?" Rosalind asked, pleased.

Taryn stopped walking. "One day Zeus, King of the G.o.ds, was looking over the earth. He saw this beautiful boy in a field, the most beautiful boy in the whole world. Zeus went crazy with l.u.s.t. He did that all the time apparently. This kid, Ganymede, was just hanging out, minding his own business, maybe playing a game, and this big eagle swoops down and grabs him, drags him off to Mount Olympus. He ended up fetching drinks for Zeus, being his boyfriend. I know most of the gay stories. They're the only ones I paid attention to. They don't talk about that one much in school."

They walked down the hill, down to the edge of the lake, where the path curved and became paved. Benches sat along the walkway; the water shone dully in the starlight beyond the lip of the stone wall. Taryn stopped and faced the lake. "Here, stand next to me. This is the most powerful spot in all of Buffalo."

Rosalind stood at Taryn's side, looking up at her profile. "Why? Besides being next to you, I mean," she whispered, slipping her arm around Taryn's waist.

"Draw an imaginary wheel around us. The Albright-Knox Art Gallery is to our left, across the road. The Historical Society is in front of us, off that way. Forest Lawn Cemetery is to the right. Behind us, that building is the Casino. The city rents the s.p.a.ce out. I think there's a wedding reception starting, from the sounds of the music, up on the second level." Taryn said this as if it explained everything.

Rosalind was enjoying leaning on Taryn's shoulder, enjoying the warmth. Her brain was pleasantly floating in the sensations of being in contact with Taryn. It didn't help her comprehension at all. "I'm not sure I get it."

Taryn gestured out into the night, the sweep of her arm taking in the lake, the building, the lights on the water, the wedding reception beginning above them. "Art on our left, death on our right, history before us, and love behind us. What could be more powerful than being in the center of that?"

Rosalind considered this. "Turning around. So history is behind us, and love is in front of us." She gently guided Taryn around, until they faced the Casino.

Music started up on the level above them, the bridal dance. Taryn stepped away from Rosalind, bowing from the waist, holding out her hand. "Dance with me?" It was a question, but the force of Taryn's charm was behind it, making it an invitation guaranteed to be accepted.

Rosalind had stepped forward and taken Taryn's hand without even thinking about it. Truthfully, she'd started moving the minute Taryn held out her hand, whatever invitation was being offered. She put her arm around the drag king's shoulder and felt her hand on her waist.

Taryn led, and they danced in the night, on the sh.o.r.e of the lake, moving in and out of the light that spilled from the wedding reception above. Rosalind could see, as she turned, an old woman sitting on the stone wall to get some air. She watched them until the song ended before turning back to the reception.

The song ended. Taryn spun Rosalind to a slow stop, reluctant to let her go. Rosalind was entertaining the nicest fantasy, with Taryn in her arms, dancing in a public place, people looking on and commenting on how well they looked together. She was still warmed by this thought when Taryn leaned down and breathed in her ear. "You dance great."

"Ballroom dance lessons. My mother insisted on them before my wedding." It slipped out before Rosalind could think about it. Funny, she hadn't thought about Paul much since meeting Taryn.

"You're married?" Taryn said, disbelief in her voice. She dropped Rosalind's hand and stepped back, her eyebrows climbing up into her hairline.

"Divorced. Almost ten months now," Rosalind said, mentally kicking herself.

"You never said anything about it," Taryn said, her voice cooling.

"Hey! Don't you dare do that to me," Rosalind said, grabbing Taryn's hand.

"What?" Taryn asked blandly.

"Disappear. You've been here, really here with me, all night. You don't get to vanish now." Rosalind could see the struggle on Taryn's face, knew enough to read the shock, the hurt, finally covered with a thick layer of att.i.tude, like the formation of ice on the lake in winter.

Taryn took her hand back and walked away, crossing to one of the benches by the Casino. She sat down and looked out over the lake.

Rosalind felt her heart crash into a flaming wreck. Why had she mentioned it at all? Now Taryn was gone, after things had been going so right, so...

Taryn slapped the bench next to her. "Come sit down," she said in a weary voice.

Rosalind did, carefully, inches from her. Tears were threatening to spill over in her eyes, misery clouding them.

"Did you love him?"

"No. Not like...We were good friends, for many years. But it wasn't more than that." It would kill Paul to know that. He'd survived their divorce by thinking that it was just the affair that ruined things in an otherwise sound marriage. How was she ever to tell him that it had never been sound for her?

"How long were you married?" Taryn's voice hardened like steel. The tone made Rosalind flinch, but she answered.

"Three years. We were still in graduate school. He had an affair, admitted to it, and offered to divorce me. I accepted. I was relieved, actually, to get out." Rosalind squeezed each word out like a drop of blood from a wound she never expected to be torn open. Taryn was right next to her, but that might as well be a million miles away, for all Rosalind could reach her. "Taryn, I'm sorry I never mentioned it. Paul did love me, but-"

Taryn's head snapped up, her eyes savage and undone in her handsome face. "No!" she snarled, cutting Rosalind off. "No. Don't tell me any more about him. I don't want to know. I don't want to hear his name." Taryn stood up, stalked to the edge of the lake, and stood on the stone lip over the black water.

Tears spilled over, running down Rosalind's cheeks. She felt them, but it was nothing compared to the black hole in her chest where her heart had been. She couldn't bear losing Taryn now. The thought propelled her off the bench. She crossed behind her and put her arm on Taryn's shoulder.

She half expected to be shrugged violently off, but Taryn turned at her touch, eyes gla.s.sy with agony. "I don't want to know that anyone else ever loved you. I want to be the one, the only one."

Rosalind gasped, the words as sharp as new steel. She threw herself against Taryn's chest, above her heart. "You are. You are." She half spoke, half sobbed the confession, soaking the white shirt. Taryn's arms around her were demanding, fierce, a bear hug of an embrace.

She lifted Rosalind's head and stared hard into her face. "Tell me you love me."

"I love you, Taryn," Rosalind whispered, the words eager to escape into the air, to seek their own life out in the world.

"No one else," Taryn insisted, capturing Rosalind's chin in her hand.

"You are the only one I've ever loved. And I'll die if you turn away from me." The words were spoken; the intensity of them shocked even Rosalind, in the grip of the overwhelming realization of her first love.

Nothing in her experience had prepared her for this, for the way Taryn's words would slay her, make her want to cry out, fight and die, live for her. Everything she'd spent a lifetime fearing she would never feel came roaring through her veins, making her shake. Rosalind Olchawski admitted to loving another person for the first time. The need for Taryn was so strong it nearly made her beg. How do people ever survive, walking around feeling like this?

Taryn kissed her. Rosalind drew Taryn's head down, taking it in her hands as if she could mark her, set a brand on her. She willingly gave over her heart in that kiss, knowing she no longer owned it. That honor belonged to Taryn, whatever she chose to do with it. Rosalind was committed.

Taryn brushed the tears from Rosalind's cheeks with her thumbs. "You okay?"

"I think I'm better than I've ever been. I feel like I'm waking up." Rosalind looked at Taryn and, with a mix of wonder and determination, saw her tremble, slightly. Was Taryn scared? Rosalind felt no fear, only certainty coupled with a desire to bring Taryn back to her. Rosalind wiped at the tearstains on Taryn's shirt. "I got you all wet."

"Promises, promises."

It was a relief to hear her make a joke, to watch Taryn get her stance back, to be c.o.c.ky and young. It also made Rosalind smile, and the sweetness of that was like wine, drowning the fear. Rosalind took Taryn's hand and placed it over her heart, holding it there. The jolt of emotion staggered her. In her confession, in her abandon, Rosalind had found a strength that made her feel wise and gentle.

Rosalind kissed the side of Taryn's neck, above the life vein. She saw the pulse dancing there, so fragile, obliquely shielded by the muscles of neck and shoulders. It was ridiculous how close to the surface that life ran, how easy it would be to threaten it. Rosalind felt very tender, wanting to shelter the girl's vulnerability, shield it from the world so it couldn't hurt her anymore. She kissed the muscle surrounding that vein, as a knight's armor might be blessed.

"So...I guess you'd go out with me again."

Rosalind smothered a chuckle against the skin of Taryn's throat. "Maybe. Are you asking me out?" Rosalind said, pleased with the language. She hadn't been asked out since high school. It had a nice symmetry to it, going through her second adolescence, discovering s.e.x, finding out new things about herself every five minutes, and being asked out in an awkward, charming way. The fact that she was all but sharing the blood in her veins with this girl already made it seem silly. Would she go out with her? Taryn would be lucky to pry her off in order to change clothes.

"Rosalind, would you be my girl? I know, you are a woman, not a girl, but...you know what I mean," Taryn said, biting off the words.

"Going steady? I don't know. It's such a big step. We've only been on one date. I don't even know your last name..." Rosalind said, raising her head from Taryn's shoulder.

"Cullen."

"I need to think about it," Rosalind said primly.

"What, you need references? I can provide them," Taryn said in a dangerous tone. Rosalind gave ground, not wanting to hear about the number of references Taryn might be able to provide.

"All right," she said into the lapel of Taryn's suit coat. Taryn didn't seem to hear her.

"I know I'm younger than you, and I don't have the education you have, and...this is all new for you. But I'll be good to you, Rosalind. Give me a chance." Taryn's voice was defensive, rising into anger.

Rosalind put her fingers over Taryn's lips. "You didn't hear me, baby. I said yes."

"You did?"

"Yes, I did. I love you. Of course I'll be your girl. Go out with you. However you want to say it. I'll make you a part of my life and become a part of yours. Fair enough?"

"Careful. I'll get used to your saying things like that to me."

Rosalind cupped the back of Taryn's neck. She could feel the heat from it singeing her palm, but she didn't flinch away. It was only the heat of Taryn's blood, a heat she knew she could take. "I think you'll have to. I'm not going to be able to stop."

Music started up, spilling over the ledge. Rosalind's head perked up. She tilted it, listening. She tried, Lord knows she did, not to give in, not to let the hilarity win, but the short film had been planted in her brain by Joe. She saw the kitchen, saw Taryn, in her boxers...Rosalind grabbed the lapels of Taryn's coat, burying her face in the drag king's chest. Her shoulders shook from the effort of trying to restrain herself, but it only made it worse.

Taryn stood like a post, letting the hysterical woman cling to her and laugh herself sick. "What's so funny?"

Rosalind mumbled something that might have been Billy Ray Cyrus.