Ain't Gonna Be the Same Fool Twice (13 page)

But there were moments during the parade when my mood matched the cool, overcast skies: When I reflected on the teenager that I'd heard about who was thrown into a river back East and drowned because he was gay, and also when a mental-health group's placards reminded us of the high suicide rate among young gays and lesbians, and, of course, reading the signs of teachers who'd lost their jobs, teenagers who'd been kicked out of their homes, and mothers who'd lost custody of their children, simply because they were gay, was all quite sobering.

A short, black man wore big signs, back and front, that read
AMERICA COME BACK TO GOD
. Traci said the dark-skinned brotha was a permanent fixture at the cable car turnaround at Market and Powell, rain or shine.

I was shocked to see a mayoral candidate and elected officials riding in the parade. I had major trouble imagining Mayor Daley doing such a thing.

Traci had suggested a hot tub as the perfect way to unwind after the parade.

“Are you sure this is cool?” I whispered to her as she opened the creaky wooden gate of a dark backyard.

“Positive,” Traci assured me.

“And are you sure Sunday nights are ‘Women Only'?” I asked as I followed her through the tall grass.

“Stop tripping, Stevie.”

I'd never heard of such before. Rank strangers just coming in off the street to use somebody's hot tub. Then again, I'd never even seen a hot tub, let alone soaked in one. According to Traci, the deal was you put a dollar in the plastic jar and took a shower before you hopped in. Of course you had to bring your own towel. There were certain nights for women only, and tonight was one of them.

“Nobody steals the money?” I'd asked Traci.

“No, this is a mellow scene, people aren't into ripping this place off. It doesn't attract that kind of energy. Besides, it's a word-of-mouth thing. Not every Tom, Dick, and Harry knows about it.”

“You sure men won't crash it on Women's Night?” I'd wanted to know.

“Why would they?” Traci shrugged her shoulders. “For over half the week, it's coed. They can wait till then to see a naked woman. Besides, the people that use this place have pretty good vibes. They're not tripping on nudity.”

I couldn't believe that I was standing buck-naked under an outdoor shower with Traci.

“More hot water,” I shivered.

Traci adjusted the faucet.

“Now it's too hot,” I squealed, reaching out and tinkering with the knobs myself.

I paused to admire Traci's wet, well-toned body in the moonlight. Her firm breasts with big “come suck me” nipples and the curly bush between her legs made me want to reach out and touch her. But instead, I followed Traci's plump, bouncing behind toward the big wooden tub. I was glad that I had gotten up the nerve to do this, I thought, stepping into the bubbling hot water. It felt good. Chicago seemed a world away.

I smiled shyly and made brief eye contact with the three strangers inside the tub. Two of the women were white and one was Latina. They were passing a joint among them.

“Happy Gay Day!” The Latina woman greeted us. She had large, bobbing breasts, despite her boyish haircut. “Happy Gay Day,” Traci and I responded.

I couldn't help but notice that the brunette had ample breasts too. The blonde was flat enough to be mistaken for a boy. But I appreciated glimpsing the rest of her slender body when she sat on the edge of the tub. I imagined she could be a dancer.

“We were discussing orgasms,” the curly brunette said casually.

“Oh,” I said, somewhat taken aback.

“If it bothers you, we can talk about something else.” The Latina woman with a crew cut smiled.

“I'm cool with it, but she's visiting from the Midwest. It might be too much of a culture shock for her,” Traci added.

“I'm not from the Midwest,” I protested. “I'm from Chicago.”

“Last time I looked at a map, Chicago was in the Midwest,” Traci insisted.

“Well, technically, Chicago is in the Midwest,” I acknowledged. “But it's different. Traci, you make it sound like I'm from Nebraska or some damn where.”

“Like I said, we can talk about something else.”

“Yeah,” the Latina woman agreed, “
Chica
, this is as much your space as anyone else's.”

“Yeah, you're a child of the universe. And you have a right to be here, same as the trees and the stars,” the blonde chimed in. She made a little splash hopping back into the tub. When she passed me the joint, I noticed that she had a ring in her nose.

“Look, feel free to talk about orgasms all you want to,” I insisted, and sucked on the reefer. “Knock yourselves out.”

“Lisa, you were saying that if you can't have a beautiful orgasm, you'd rather not have one at all.”

“It's not that I don't value them,” Curly explained to the blonde. “It's just that if it isn't special, why bother?”

“What do you mean by a beautiful orgasm?” The Latina woman wanted to know.

“I think I know what you mean. Otherwise, it's just a release,” the blonde explained.

“Exactly,” Lisa agreed.

I wouldn't mind just a release, I thought.

“I want to feel music between my legs, ride a roller-coaster ride,” Lisa sighed.

The Latina woman exhaled. “Why not just go to the Santa Cruz boardwalk, if you want to ride a roller-coaster?”

“It's not the same,” Lisa groaned.

“Sounds like you wanna be speaking in tongues and shit,” Traci smiled, joining in the conversation.

Lisa looked confused. “What's ‘speaking in tongues'?”

“You have to get the Holy Ghost,” I explained.

“The thought of Lisa getting the Holy Ghost and speaking in tongues is funny,” the Latina woman said, cracking up.

Everyone whooped, including Lisa. It was like none of us could stop laughing.

“Having fun, Stevie?” Traci asked.

I nodded. Although I worried that we were being sacrilegious.

“Girl, you ain't in Kansas no more,” she teased.

I had a good feeling about tonight as we walked back to the house. It was like the stars and the planets and the moon were all in the right place. In the right place for love.

“Traci, I feel so relaxed from being in that hot tub. It's amazing.”

“A hot tub allows you to lay your burdens down, all right. People make fun of us Californians and our hot tubs, but that's because they don't know how to relax.”

“Hey, I'm sold. Don't you wish you had one of your very own?”

“Sure, but having one a few blocks away ain't too shabby, either.”

“I'm hipped. Well, tomorrow night, Cinderella will be back to her ashes, with no hot tub,” I sighed.

“Cinderella, huh? So, you feel like Cinderella?”

“A little,” I admitted, pausing to appreciate the Victorian houses that looked good enough to eat. “I mean, it's been wonderful and exciting. Soon, I'll be back at home, cramped in my little non-air-conditioned room in ninety-degree heat. I'll probably end up taking some job on a newspaper in a small market. The town will be too small to turn around in.”

“Didn't you tell me that practically everybody has to start out in a small market?”

I nodded and motioned for Traci to stop. I put my arm around her shoulder as we gazed at the panoramic view of San Francisco from above Dolores Park.

“I used to think that all I wanted was a job in the media, period,” I continued as we admired the view. “Any job, anywhere. But you know, after spending this past week with you and being in San Francisco, I'm not so sure.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I'm beginning to ask myself, ‘What is really important? What do I really want out of life?'”

“And what's the answer?”

“Happiness. I suppose I'd rather be happy on a bicycle than crying in a Rolls-Royce.”

Traci pulled me close to her. “I can dig it,” she agreed.

I can dig her, I thought as my knees weakened. Our lips touched, and then our tongues.

“I'm willing,” I whispered.

We were on Traci's foam mattress. She'd promised me the total Traci treatment. So far, I had no complaints. We'd drunk some Blue Nun wine out of her good glasses. And she'd brought the vase of fresh-cut flowers from the kitchen table and put them on the wooden crate near the bed. Traci had even lit a bunch of white candles inside little glass jars. The candlelight had transformed the room into a romantic hideaway.

“I almost forgot the music,” Traci said, breaking away from my embrace. “Roberta Flack? Phoebe Snow? Chris Williamson? What is your pleasure tonight?”

“I love Roberta Flack, and ‘Poetry Man' is one of my favorite jams. I've never heard of Chris Williamson before.”

“Not everybody can get into women's music. Even I can only take so much.” Traci smiled. “But Chris Williamson is exceptional. Her album
The Changer and the Changed
is beautiful. I think you'll dig it.”

Traci and I sat on the bed in the candlelight. She pressed her finger against my lips. I licked it with my tongue and sucked it inside my mouth. I felt more excited than scared. It wasn't like I was a virgin. It wasn't like Traci had anything to hurt me with. It might be different being with a woman, but I could hang with different, I told myself. I was ready to get it on.

I gathered Traci in my arms and she kissed me long and hard. I rubbed my fingers against her soft face. “It's nice being with you.”

“You ain't seen nothing yet.”

Suddenly, I felt shy. It was put up or shut up time.

Traci drew circles with her thumb around my nipples through my T-shirt. They felt hot and hard. I wanted to unfasten my bra. I wanted to feel her bare hands on my breasts.

“Let me help you,” I offered, raising my T-shirt. Soon Traci's lips were sucking my breasts and I was running my hands up and down her back.

“Let me relieve you of your threads. I promised you the total Traci treatment, remember?”

“Yeah, and I'm ready for it,” I answered bravely.

Traci slowly unsnapped and pulled off my jeans. She planted kisses on my bare thighs. By the time she tugged at my panties, my love had come down. But despite my wetness I obeyed her request to lie on my stomach so that she could rub vanilla-scented massage oil all over my body.

“You sure know how to rub me the right way. I feel so relaxed,” I moaned, stretching my well-oiled body.

“I just aim to please.”

“Traci, you're so sweet. No one has ever done all this before.”

“Baby, I just want you to be happy.”

“Well, I'm very happy.”

“Hey, we've only just begun,” Traci promised. She undressed and laid down next to me. I shivered with excitement as our naked bodies touched. It was strange feeling a woman's soft breasts and stomach against me. But it felt strange in a good way. It was like an adventure. Traci rubbed her hands up and down my thighs. I was glad that she was taking the lead, but I still couldn't help feeling nervous. After all, it was my first time being with a woman.

We kissed and wrapped our bodies around each other.

Feeling her breasts against mine made my heart beat faster. And holding her warm, woman's body reminded me of the gentle rocking of the boat that took you into the tunnel of love at Riverview Amusement Park back when I was a child. I sighed. Traci ran her fingers up and down my thighs. I felt my vagina muscles open and shut. I wanted Traci as much as I'd ever wanted anyone.

She made circles with her finger around my clitoris. I reminded myself to breathe. Traci's finger found my spot. She rubbed it gently. I grabbed her and kissed her as she stuck her finger inside of me. I was wet.

“Stevie, you're beautiful inside and out!” Traci breathed. “You deserve to feel good. You deserve to feel good,” she repeated like a mantra as she stroked me.

Traci's voice trailed off. I closed my eyes, turning inward, paying attention to my own sensations. I was losing touch with the world. I couldn't believe it, it
was
like I was climbing a roller-coaster ride! It was thrilling and exciting.

“I don't care what anybody thinks! I don't care what anybody thinks!” I shouted as I reached the top. There were fireworks between my legs.

“You came, didn't you?” Traci asked.

“Yeah,” I marveled.

Traci hugged me.

“It
was
like a roller-coaster ride. And then it was just like Chris Williamson sang in that song, ‘about an endless waterfall!'” I exclaimed.

“Well, congratulations. You not only came, you came with a bang.”

I sat up. “Traci, I can't imagine ever feeling any better than I just did!”

“It's not always that good,” Traci said smiling. “In fact, it doesn't sound like it gets any better than you described.”

“Thank you so much. I never came before. I can't believe it!” I said, giving her a big hug.

“What can I say? Traci is my name, and love is my game.”

I swallowed. “I can't believe this is our last night together.”

“Yeah, it's a damn shame,” Traci sighed, and twisted her face like she'd bitten into something rotten.

“I'm not going.” I was surprised to hear the words come out of my mouth.

“You're not going back to Chicago?”

“No, I'm not going.” I said clearly. “I'll just use the rest of my savings until I find a job. I've made up my mind.”

Traci's face lit up. “You won't regret it.”

“It's cool with you?”

“Hey, I'm all for it!” We hugged and kissed. I felt so excited. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared too. But it felt good taking a risk. It felt right stepping out on faith.

“Traci, you want me to make love to you now? I think I can figure out what goes where. I'll do my best to please you.”