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Authors: Saxon Bennett

BOOK: Back Talk
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“It’s necessary to embrace the grayness, dance in the rain, sip herbal tea and do yoga so your joints don’t stiffen up from all the dampness.”

“That sounds great,” Anne said, throwing a pencil in the ceiling. “Maybe a little slow for me, but it takes all kinds.”

Another guy called and said, “I just visualize the mushrooms growing on my head and I want to shoot my fridge because I’m going nuts.”

“I’m with you,” Anne said, twirling another pencil that was two seconds from hitting the ceiling.

Hilton could tell she was getting bored. They were five minutes from the bottom-of-the-hour news and weather. She grew relaxed as life appeared to be normal. She was probably just being para-noid.

Anne took another call. “Hello, caller, go ahead,” she coached.

“I just wanted to talk about what I used to like to do in the winter.”

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“All right.”

“Well, I had this lover and we used to cuddle up on the couch and have a glass of wine,” the caller said.

Hilton recognized the voice. She looked at Anne, who hadn’t made the connection. She was frantically trying to decide what to do.

“But I can’t do that anymore because you stole my girlfriend and I’m thinking that’s what you’ve been doing,” Nat said.

“Well, Natalie, nice of you to call.”

Hilton sprang from her seat. “Lillian, drop the call, drop the call,” Hilton screamed.

Lillian couldn’t hear her because of her headphones.

Dave swung around in his chair. “Hilton, what’s wrong?”

“How does it feel to steal someone else’s girlfriend?” Nat taunted.

“Drop the call!” Hilton screamed.

Lillian looked at her, plucked off her headphones and screamed back, “Don’t tell me to chop-chop, young lady, I’m screening calls as fast as I damn well please.” She slapped her headphones back on.

Hilton banged her head on the table. What the hell did Anne think she was doing? This was going to wreck her career instanta-neously. Everything she feared was coming to fruition.

“Well, if you’d been a better partner that wouldn’t have happened, but you were out screwing every Tina, Denise and Harriet in town,” Anne retorted.

“That’s your POV on the issue,” Nat said. “She was still my girlfriend and you had no right.”

“Nat, it’s time you moved on. I love Hilton and we’re in it for the long haul.” Anne dropped the call.

Hilton was still banging her head when Dave put on the bottom-of-the-hour news and weather. Anne came into the control room followed by Veronica.

The first words out of Veronica’s mouth were, “That fucking little bitch. Why didn’t you drop the call? You should have 187

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dropped the call. And Lillian, what the hell were you doing? You know you officially outed yourself. Ed is going to kill us.” She was standing with her hands on her hips in her usual tailored skirt and jacket.

“I was listening,” Lillian said, stomping off to have a cigarette.

“That’s just fucking great!” Veronica screamed. “You can’t hear half the time but this time you were listening.”

“Well, sometimes things happen for a reason,” Anne said. She smiled broadly at Veronica.

“You know this is the end of your career,” Veronica replied.

“Yes, I’m aware of that.”

“Dude, I don’t think this was a good move,” Dave said, running his fingers through his hair.

“Actually, I’m kind of relieved. I have two years left on my contract and I’m sure I’ll find something to do,” Anne said, looking at Hilton. “You’ve got a black smudge on your forehead.” She wet her forefinger and tried to rub it off.

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea she would do this.”

“You know, I’m pretty much done with this part of my life. I was bored to death six months ago and then you came and maybe that’s why I had to ride it out. But it’s over now and why not go out with a bang.” Anne clapped her hands and smiled. “Dave, let’s get this show on the road.”

Ed, the program director, stood in the doorway blocking her exit. He looked serious. “A heads-up would’ve been nice. I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Let me do one more segment,” Anne pleaded.

“It’s not going to be pleasant,” he advised. “We could avoid the issue all together. Put Dave on the calls and not let anyone through with a homophobic or homosexual comment or we could do a best-of show and call it good.”

“No, Ed, I have to live in this town and should at least get a chance to explain myself. Otherwise it’ll always look like I’m a big closet case.”

“They’re going to hang me for this upstairs,” Ed said. He stuck 188

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his hands in his trouser pockets and furrowed his brow. “Okay, here’s how it’s going to go, no screaming matches, and watch for profanity. I mean quick with the switch. I certainly hope you have a balls-to-the-wall monologue because you’re going to need it.”

“Oh, believe me, I do. Thanks, Ed.”

He left. The control room was quiet. Shannon must have noticed because she came in and nuzzled Hilton’s hand. “It’s all right, girl,” she said, petting her.

Veronica was suddenly beaming. “I’ve got a great idea. You could be a gay talk-show host on XM Satellite Radio. You’d be brilliant.”

“No, thanks. I’m going to write thrillers.”

“You write?” Hilton said. “All those yellow legal pads and the pencils …”

“You wrote a book?” Veronica said.

“I’m writing a book,” Anne corrected.

“Dude, I want an autographed copy,” Dave said.

“I know an agent. Well, I dated an agent once,” Veronica said.

Lillian came clomping in. “So you’re a lesbian now?”

“Yes, Lillian.”

“I was a lesbian once,” she sat down and looked reflective.

“Once?” Anne said.

“It was the summer of nineteen fifty-five …”

Dave, apparently not able to stomach the image of Lillian in the throes of girl-passion, cut the story. “I hate to interrupt but we better get this thing rolling.”

Anne nodded. She touched Hilton’s shoulder. “It’s going to be fine, I promise.”

“I’m not letting the bigots on the air,” Lillian screamed from across the room as she sat down and clamped her headphones on.

“Thank you, Lillian,” Anne said. “All right, boys and girls, let’s rock and roll.” She went into the booth and the bumper music started.

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After station identification Anne started her monologue. “As you all probably have deduced from that last segment, some things in my life have changed. I’m not certain as of yet how this will affect the remainder of my career but I will keep you posted. So in honor of that I’d like to welcome you to Homoslavia, my new homeland. It’s a place where Fiesta Ware and the Pottery Barn rule all fashion, a place where parents hold their arms up in the air and wail, ‘What have I done to deserve this? Where did I go wrong?’

It’s a land filled with Donna Summer tunes, pink drinks and rain-bow flags adorning the porches of neat bungalows where couples still have sex in tastefully decorated bedrooms with designer sheets. Homoslavia, home of the free, home of the brave. And now it’s your turn for all the bigotry and ugliness of the latent fears in your heart that you can muster. People, bring it on.”

The first call was from her father. “Hi, Dad. This wasn’t exactly how I planned on telling you.”

He laughed. “Well, you always were for making a big splash and scaring all the little fish. I just wanted you to know I’m all right with it.”

“How’s Victoria taking it?”

“At the moment she’s packing. I imagine she’ll be hiding out in a spa in Palm Springs until this whole thing blows over.” He chuckled.

“You got to love a woman with a brave heart.”

“She’ll get over it. Welcome to the family, Hilton.”

Hilton smiled weakly. She still had the black smudge from the newspaper on her forehead.

The rest of the show was comprised of the burning-in-hell crowd, gay callers wishing her well and offering advice, a lawyer who threatened to sue the station on her behalf and supportive straight people who knew gay people or had gay relatives. Anne still threw pencils at the ceiling and when she was bored scribbled notes down about new scenes for her book. She was suddenly feeling very inspired. No pain, no gain—it didn’t just apply to the gym. She was starting a new life now and she was kind of excited.

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After the show, Anne said, “See, that wasn’t so bad.”

“You are a very brave woman,” Hilton said. Anne noticed she’d washed the black smudge off.

“They can only hurt you if you let them.” She hooked her arm through Hilton’s and then said, “Let’s go have a few cocktails.

Everyone is invited. I want to toast my new life. I feel like a fucking butterfly who just dumped the white condo.”

“I can finish my lesbo story,” Lillian said, putting on a giant purple hat with a black feather. Dave ducked just in time to avoid having his eye poked out by the razor sharp end of the feather.

“Oh, great, I can hardly wait,” Hilton said.

“No, please,” Dave said, putting her hands together in prayer.

“Here. When she starts the story just put the ear buds in,”

Hilton said. She handed him her iPod.

“Sweet. I’ll just nod at the appropriate moments,” Dave said.

They left the building like a merry band of misfits and walked to the bar across the street and down a block. A few people stopped Anne and told her the show was well done. Anne Counterman smiled politely and thought about how nice it would be to live in a world where no one talked all the time, where every instance of public record didn’t have to be deciphered and discussed, a place where you lived your life and didn’t talk about it. The silence was going to be beautiful.

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