Time Passes Slowly

Time passes slowly while you are waiting for life to happen.



Winter becomes spring and planting seasons. Children keep growing. Mercy follows me everywhere. She helps me feed the chickens and ducks. She helps me plant the the fields. When Charisma is there she does as well. I have the older girls help me get the soil ready. They are tired of this choir.

The day to day of planting and feeding and gathering eggs leaves my mind to wander. It wanders to the clubs, to men I will never have or see again.

The girls are still a little too young to leave by themselves so I can go out to the single bars or any other place I could find a man and not scare them away immediately by four fighting children. Maybe in another year, so I count down the days until Freedom turns 13. She should be old enough to watch her sisters while I nip out for a few hours once a week.

Until then, I decided I will just take the girls out to all the little fairs and festivals around town. Socialize enough to be known. Not seen as a freak. Or if nothing else, be around enough that it bothers the old bitches.

With Spring comes Strawberry festivals all over New England. These as usually sponsored by the churches in the center of these towns. Our town was just the same. So I packed the girls up and off we went.

Sack races, face painting, children singers, strawberry pies and other strawberry like pastries for sale.

We did it all. I cheered the girls on. Charisma fell in the egg race. Before I could get to her Tom had picked her up. I nodded thanks to him. He smiled back.

Later the girls wanted a snow cone and cotton candy each with a hot dog. I have told them before the Strawberry festival not to ask me for anything because we ate before and we will eat after. I realize that $20 for my girls all to have these things each is not much to many people, but that can be the whole weekends worth of food for all of us. I tried to say many things to them to get them to stop, but they were using public pressure to their leverage.

I heard one guy say "cheapskate, get your kids some food."

Oh I stopped and looked him right in the eye. I was about to explain the difference 7between cheep and poor using him and what ex wife says about him paying his child support had said about him when Tom saved his lousy judgmental-throwing -stones-in-glass-houses butt. How he save him? Before I could say what was in my mind, Tom had already bought the children all what they wanted.

I opened my mouth to protest, I don't want to be seen as so poor I would take from strangers, When he said "Hey, Emma, I am so glad you let me pay you and the girls back for the dinner you cooked for me and mother last week when she was ill." He handed me a burger and soda.

Tom looked at the jerk who made the remark "Hey, Joe, I see you didn't bring your kids, why not?"

"The bitch wouldn't let me have them, it's my weekend, too!" Joe said angrily looking at me.

"She usually only does that when you are more than a month behind in the old child support checks." Tom said with a smile as she led me and the girls away from the mother hating bitter ex husband.

"Don't mind him, he's a douche and everyone knows it " Tom said to me.

"Thanks. But I don't like to take charity. " I said back. "I really need to pay..." before I could reach into my purse or finish my sentience Tom stopped me.

"Hey, no, it's not like that. I just wanted to shut Joe up. Thank you for letting me put him in his place. He has been rubbing on my very last nerve for over a year now."

I looked at him as if I half believed him.

"If it makes you feel any better you can make me a supper. Than it is a truth. I could use a woman's home make meal any way. Tomorrow night? "

" That's fine, what do you like to eat?" I said hoping it wasn't something expensive.

"I'm not fussy, anything really. Just whatever your girls would eat on Sunday night. "

"Alright than, don't forget your mom." I said as we shook on it.

"Why would I bring her?"

"Because you told Joe I made supper for both of ya. I don't want to make a liar out of you." I said with a grin.

The girls and I parted with Tom and finished our day at the fair.



Sunday I was anything but lazy. I spent the morning cleaning.

The afternoon I was trying to make a Sunday meal that would be fitting of company.

I made some corn bread.

I had some wine left over from Christmas.

I made some brown rice.

I have chicken, mushrooms, garlic, ginger, pepers, onions, celenrto and soem itialian seasonings and cracked pepper. I put it all together with some of the wine. A little for the chicken a little for me.

I defrost a pie for deseart.

All came together by the time Tom and his mother showed up.

Tom's mom said to me apone entering my house, "I undestand you have to feed us to make my sure my son is not a liar. That is a good a reason as any to get out of the house and not have to cook."

She enjoyed the girls and we had a little too much wine all of the adults.

The food went over well and it was a much better evening than I suspected it might be.

The evening ended short as school was still in session at least for a few more weeks.

Could it be I might actually make some friends in this place?

Who knows but it's worth a ponder.

As we said our goodbyes Tom's mum said "Next time dear, have a proper date with my son." She winked as she said. " I can watch the little darlings."

"MOM! This was just her paying me back for the carney food at the church. " He smiled at me as if to say she was senile.

"Tom, next time ask the girl out proper!"

This was going on all the way to the car. I closed the door but listened through it at the same time.

The court of the Chrimism King

Christmas morning we woke I started making pancakes for 10. It felt good. Eggs, scrambles, sunny side up, pooched, pancakes, plain and candy cane flavor. I felt more like a short order cook than a blues musician. I felt there was a lot of love going on in my house, more so than I had in a very long time.

Girls wanted to open presents, I wanted to wait until after church. JuJu Bee scold me for torchering my children and they all ganged up against me to open one each.

Mercy and Charisma opened a Barbie each. Solace and Freedom opened up a CD each. Chumbawamba and Mariah Carey. They had me open one too. A Bob Dylan album I never saw before, Time out of Mind. Music all around. I put it in while we all got dressed. Bob was sounding more like an old blues man but not quit there yet.



Oh, dressing for church was a spectacular to behold. Mizty was telling each of the girls they could not look like their club slut selves but like a good church going woman and if they couldn't pull that off they needed to dress like a man.

Walking into to church, slightly late as to make the perfect entrance, was something I wish I had my camera for. Eric and Mizty went in first. Mizty in modest heals and a light blue tasteful tweed dress with fox trim on her stole.

The next two dressed as men, with pencilled in thicker brows and thin mustaches.

Next was JuJu Bee, in red. A respectable red dress, but red none the less. with each of my youngest daughters in hand. Now where the whole congregation was skeptical of the sexes of most of the people before, most the men where looking like they were going to pop a button when JuJu came down. They definitely could not tell. I must explain to her that bras are a must for church.

Next my older two daughters followed by me, trying hard not to laugh.

Don't you know that Mizty insisted on sitting near the front. We all sat piece by piece to fit in towards the front. Eric and Mizty in one pew, and so forth back until I covered the rear.

The whole place was silent, including the preacher as we walked in and sat down. At first I don't know if it was the fact Mizty was black or if it was that she was a he that threw them off more. There are no people of colour in my little town. The combination was priceless.

The preacher finally spoke: "Christmas is a time of friends, family, neighbors coming together and worshiping as one. It is a time for loving thy neighbor as they self. It is a time of charity and good will to all humankind. It is un-Jesus like to judge others on his birthday. It is a time of bringing new friends to celebrate his birth to church as Emma has, as Nancy has, and as Alice has done." He waved his hand to each of the woman he was talking about, as I was not the only one bringing people to church today, he nicely pointed it out. " So I say, welcome new friends, lets worship the lord together."

"AMEN, PREACHER" Mizty said as if we were in a Southern Baptist church.

I did giggle a little then into my hand. Tom looked back at me and smiled. I think I have found someone in this town who has a sense of humor.

The rest of the mass went like that. A little Southern Baptist from Mizty, a little jazzing up the tunes from all of the girls. They encouraged my girls to sing the same way, and they did. You know I had to follow suit.

Finally Preacher gave up and asked me to sing a bit with his guitar. Guess who were my back up singers. It seems no-one else wanted to join in. But I think the preacher was having his own good time with it, for what ever reason, maybe he wanted to get back at the nasty women there or he just liked a little pizazz in his music today.




Afterwards, of course , my friends needed to join the precision of well wishers and greeters to the preacher. The men were drooling even more over JuJu Bee. Oh her breasts are real because of the hormones but so is his manly bits. But they couldn't see that. She even got invited out to Christmas dinner by some of the more bolder bachelors in town. One of the boys who dresses like a girl dressed as guy came over and let them all know she was taken.

Tom came up and wished us Merry Christmas and referred to all the queens as ladies, even the ones dressed as men.

"Does he remind you of anyone?" Eric said.

"Just like all the other farmers." JuJu said.

"Let's get home, girls, I want to eat and open presents!"

We laughed all the way home at the reaction in church.



Home. We started on dinner and sang songs of the seasons, opened more presents, laughed and drank some more. I got some nice sexy dresses. The girls some nice toys and music. Freedom even got her own disc-man so she can have her private music.

They were so generous to us.

I was so sad when they left that night.

The ghosts of laughter lingered and kept me warm through New Years Day.



My house that was filled with joy and love seemed so lonely all of a sudden.

Mother should I build a wall

The Crystal affair left me in a high even after he left to be with his family for a week. His father had past and he needed to make arrangements and help his family as any good son would.

I offered to go and help. But in reality we didn't know each other well enough and I was now part of a world he never wanted his family to know about.

We left with a hug and a kiss and promises to meet up again after he returned.

Eric helped with the bar tending and I made a bit more money with my singing.

Time flew that week, first part of the week letting loose my carnal desires and the second with my head in the clouds. It's Saturday again.

As the girls are finishing up their set Mizty at the microphone says "Hey, people, don't forget we are open during the long holiday weekend, so don't be a stranger. Strange is fine, a freak is better!" He made a meow sounds and some lude moves.

I laughed.

Than thought ' what holiday weekend?!'.

"Have a great Labor Day if we don't see you again! And if you are drunk, don't drive. Seriously we have numbers of cabs by the door, and the door boy wont let you drive if you are drunk."

Labor Day, shit shit, school, shit shit, Labor Day, shit shit school. Fuck, I got to get home. Cindy's going to kill me, I asked her for a few weeks. It's been a month. Shit. I am turning into my mother. Shit. I want to stay here. Shit just call me Bobbie.

I must have had a weird look on my face and for some time, I didn't see the show end fully, I didn't see the people leave, I didn't see people cleaning up. I didn't see Mizty and Eric in front of me.

"How long the girl been like this?" Mizty asked Eric

"Since you made the announcement about driving drunk."

Slap. Across my face a black hand with well polished nails.

"Shit, Labor day, Shit, School, Shit, Kids, Fuck!"

"Ah" they said together, and looked with a knowing smile "she remembered she has children. "

I stopped my chant.

They looked at me.

"Child, if you didn't wake up soon we were going to do it for you on Monday morning." Eric said.

"Yeah, we I was a little girl, first day of school was the day after Labor Day." Mizty said

They looked at each other again.

"I gotta go!" I said.

"You gotta go, than go, after supper though." Eric said.

We went home to the flat. We cooked, we ate, I packed. We exchanged addresses, and their phone number, as I don't have one. I counted my money, enough to get through winter with. To get food. Some clothes for the girls. Some oil for the tank. I drank lots of water to flush out the booze.

We hugged by the car. We invited each other to each houses. I made them promise to visit. And I started home. It is 3 am and I am going home.




The drive took two plus hours to get home. The dawn was coming up on the ride home. I could see it in my rare view mirror. I felt I was running away from the sun, from my own happiness. Logically one would not want to run into the darkness. The thought that I was being just like my mother, running away from my children to start a happier life snapped me back. They will never understand how much of myself I am giving up for them. And in the end I think they will despise me anyway, it is the nature of children as they grow to dislike their parents for the things they did or didn't do. But in the end we will have each other and I will not hate me. Some sacrifices are worth the price that is paid.



I pulled into my long drive way. Cindy's car was there covered in dew. I could hear the sounds of the chickens. It was so quite here. I forgot. I don't hear the girls. I go up to the door and unlock it. I can hear people sleeping. Mercy always snored since she was a baby. I resisted waking them all up for my sake.

The house is a lot cleaner. Some changes were made, furniture rearranged, new pieces here and there. And is that a new t.v. in the corner not too far from the other t.v.?

I got out the griddle. I got out the ingredients for pancakes. I started making pancakes. The noise woke Cindy first. She came out of my room with a baseball bat.

"Hi sis." I smiled at her "Want some pancakes?" I said as I handed a plate out towards her.

"Hi sis?! You left a month ago! You said a week or so! You needed som time to digest Mom's death! A WEEK!" She was not happy. I expected she might not be.

"SHHHHHHH. You'll wake the girls with a start with all this yelling." I smiled as if we were just normal sisters having a normal argument. Not me having to take my medicine for leaving for a month.

She glared at me and breathed in deep. I could tell she was about top yell louder.

I cut it off quick. "So did you get to bond with the girls? They are great aren't they. Smart and loving. " I smiled as if we were really having a normal breakfast conversation. I finished setting the table and flipped pancakes.

"BONDING! YES they are loving and smart and wondering where there mother was. I THOUGHT I WAS ABOUT TO ADOPT THEM!" She is getting loud again. "HOW COUDL YOU? do that to them? What kind of mother are YOU?!" Now she is in my face.

"What kind of MOTHER am I?! I came back. That is a lot better than Bobbie ever did for me! She abandoned me with those nasty people in the middle of nowhere and started another family and became perfect mom of the year with YOU! Tell me? How much did she leave you when she died?" Now I am glaring at her.

"Mom was a great mom! How much was left to me is NONE of your business! I can;t help it if you were a mistake! Don't diminish MY MOTHER!"

"So unlike me, she never dropped you off at a relative's house you never meet and never came to visit you, she didn't tell your siblings you don't know of that you were their aunt and she didn't have sex around you? Damn, you missed out on all the fun! I but her pet name for you wasn't Ugly , either! You poor neglected girl? Hey, how much did she leave me? Or my girls, her granddaughters she never saw!"

We were in each other faces. She was as judgemental as our granny. And I was trying not to be Bobbie, but man my rage over all those years was coming out, unfortunately the sister with the charmed life and the perfect family is the one who got it.

"HOW MUCH?" I demanded to know.

"NOTHING."

"I can see why she wanted to forget about such a throw away person like you. She wanted forget she had such a demon spawn. I can't help I was born with a perfect face and after she was done with the drugs, I can't help you were the product of a teenage runaway and a drugged out hippie. Someone who would so easily forget her own children and abandon them with a stranger."

She was being very self righteous right now.

"You were not a stranger, you were their aunt. A family they didn't know they had. I left them with FAMILY, not a STRANGER. "

"MAMA!" the sound came from the entrance of the kitchen to the hallway that lead to the bedrooms. It was my girls.



I smiles and went over to them, hugged and kissed them all.

"Don't fight!" Mercy looked at me.

"Yeah, you are sisters! You are not supposed to fight all the time. You are not supposed to make each other hurt!" says Solace

"Right, Mum? Sisters are not supposed to make each other cry. Isn't that what you always say?" Freedom added

"AHA" Charisma chimed in.

"Yes, yes, you are right. Right, Auntie Cindy? Sister's aren't supposed to hurt each other." I look over to Cindy.

She tries to hide her anger and pain. Just as I am doing. The girls never knew what my mother did to me. Never knew much about my childhood beyond the good things I told them about hunting frogs and Moses. Freedom doesn't even know the name of her father. Nor the circumstances of her birth. Since I made her a British citizen as a baby she didn't even know she was born in America. Even the girls born here I made British citizens.

We sat and ate breakfast. They missed my pancakes.

"Girls go get ready for church." Cindy said when we finished.

"Church?" I said, not really wanting to go back.

"Yes! Church, we go every week." She said back to me.

Church was odd, as normal. I could hear whispers about me.

"She back?!"

"I thought she left for good. "

"Those poor girls! Why couldn't she just stay away. I wonder if that nice Cindy is going to leave now."

I looked each one of those bitches in the eye. Being with Queens taught me a lot about self respect. You know backstabbing bitches seldomly want to look you in the eye.

As Church ended the preacher reminded us of the church and town fair and bon fire the next day.

I was surprised I made it through church without passing out. I didn't make it much mast the living room without falling asleep on the couch.

It was dark by the time I woke up. Cindy and Freedom had made Sunday dinner. Roast chicken and veggies. The smell woke me up. Solace was on the small t.v. and Charisma and Mercy were on the big one.

"Hey, " I said to Cindy as I got up. "I;m sorry I was driving all night. I didn't mean to fall a sleep on you."

"Hey, your home, that's all that matters. " Cindy smiled back at me and the girls.

"What's with the small t.v.?" I said, not really understanding why we needed two, never mind two in the same room.

They all laughed a little.

"O.k. let me in on the joke."

"That's a computer." Charisma said.

"O.k." I said examine it. I never had one. I saw one. But it wasn't something I really cared about.

After supper I got caught up on the Internet, and when the phone rang, I found out Cindy also paid the phone bill and got it turned back on. It seems from opening my mail, all the bills were caught up too.

I had some crow to eat. Cindy said it was alright.

I explained all the money I made when I was gone. First thing she wanted to know was if I did it legal. I just told her I played gigs. I didn't explain where or who I was with. Too much. Hell I finally got her to see me a a normal person again.

In the mail was also a note from Kim. With a check. It seems since no-one can contact me he , as my relative , negotiated for a company to use one of my songs in an ad. This was lucrative. Enough money for some solar panels. It would take care of a lot of my energy problems for the year. I know most people would go spend it on a new car or something frivolous. But I am always thinking about the long term tomorrow. This is country life. I am back in Mama mode.

The next day we went to the fair. We all had fun, we all were a family. The girls signed me up for the talent contest.I sang it with all the attitude I had in the clubs. I didn't care that I was in a small town.

I didn't care that no-one here liked me and wished I'd stayed away.







Oh, I liked to mix it.

And the towns people, well it seems a lot of them liked my music.

I lost. But true enough the winner was a cute little girl. I got second prize.

"Hey Emma. I thought you were just great!" Tom said as he came up to me all smiling.

Tom is a bit older than me, by about 5 years. He is about 5 inches taller too. A bit of teddy bear. He is one of those normal guys that tend not to talk to me, ever.

"Thanks, Tom."

"You should be yourself more often. Seems like someone or something turned on the Emma light while you were gone."

"Emma light?"

"I got it from a movie I saw once. It means it's better to be yourself than trying to be someone else. I guess."

"Thanks, Tom." I smiled at him.

A second later my girls came and dragged me away to watch them in the sack race.

It was a good day. We were all tired.

Cindy told the girls at supper that she had to go and might not see them for a while.

Tears ensued. Promises to keep in touch via email and phone were said.

The next day was the first day of school and Cindy and I got the girls off to school. After the school bus left so did Cindy.

I got cracking on getting some solar panels with Mercy by my side.

Life is so different than a week ago. All my time is spoken for again.

I need a man

The next week I gave up on the idea of a one night stand.

The guy at the bar and finding more solace in the bartender was making things clearer. We find comfort where it comes, not where we look for it.

Or like I have become fond of saying in my head: "Boys are stupid."

I still played the other bars a few nights a week and came back to the gay bar at night or played before the shows. I made good money. And got lots of hugs and cuddles from the boys and girls of the club. This seemed good enough. It was more than I had had in years. It reminded me of something all humans need. Without it we become distant, detached, and plainly unable to connect.

Love. Sex. Why we crave it? Well, why I craved it. Human connection. Not even pleasure. Since pleasure is but a means to connection which is my real goal . Now I understand, such an aha moment, the love the boys and the girls who are boys give me works. It works on so many levels.

Anyway, getting your time of the month is a great time to say "forget getting laid, I need a cuddle.".

Cuddles I got. The bartender made sure of it. Though every night he got a little more grabby. I think he was just making sure they were real. My girls, that is.

Finally, Saturday came, my Aunt Flow left. I was feeling myself again. I must tell you sharing house with a boy pretending to be a girl and being a real girl with real girl things happening was a little odd. I found myself trying very hard to hid the evidence. Triple bagged it. Stuffed it under bad food in the trash. Mizty still manged to figure it out quickly.

"Honey, only women bleed!" He smiled "You need to stop acting like a girl with her first blood."

And Eric laughed. "I almost forgot about that. She's right Honey, don't be ashamed you don't have a penis. What did you think we were going to send you to the lesbians for a week?" He laughed again and kissed me on the cheek.

Almost a week past.

Tonight is Saturday night. It is warm outside, the walk through the streets from the gay club to the singles bar I was playing at was a pleasant one. I was all revved up to try again. Visions of men parts and naked arms in embraces went through my head and I hardly noticed the mile walk at all. It is still about 76 degrees is this arm late summers night in Boston.

I got to the bar, streaming with beautiful and not so beautiful people, mostly under 30. I was feeling a bit old. But I snapped out of it, so what if the homme du jour is a little younger, as long as he knows how to use his equipment to my satisfaction.

I sat up at my stool, took out my guitar. I began to play some songs to set up the mood while looking for perspective prey. I feel like such a hunter and the sings work for the crowd anyway.





The funny thing about this bar, is that most of the patrons are white. I see a few bigger girls in the audience. You know they need some attention too. I had to play a song to remind the men not to ignore them.



Funny in a more mixed race crowd this would not be necessary, but it seems to work, I see some men asked them to dance, and boy, are they enjoying themselves. I love to see that. It is getting me into the mood even more.

It seem the magic of music , the whipping the air into a lusty potion worked. For them. Not me. They all paired off. There were some older gents left. But I am not about to go that far older than me just yet.

I fell good anyway. Being turned on. But I was the magician in the middle, I was Mickey Mouse, making it all happen. All the mops dancing about. There is a good feeling to that too, even if I was not involved in the end results.

The tip glass was over flowing by all the happily horny people who left and that was a wonderful bonus. Got paid, by the owner, and headed back to the Cabaret. That's what it is called by the way. Simply The Cabaret.

The walk back was still warm and pleasant. The summer haze of the city obscured the stars, but I was sure they were there, at least I remember when I looked up to see them and I could see them. Just not here. I feel briefly that I should be someone where else where the stars are very clear and bright and there are not car sounds at midnight only that of animals on the hunt for some tasty unsuspecting morsel.

The sounds of the beginning of the last song of the show shooed the thoughts out of my head.

Chrystal, the blond busty bartender, smiles at me and hands me a drink "this a something I have been toying with, hope you like it?"

"Thanks, beautiful." I smiled back and started sipping, fruity, Malibu, and very delightful. " It's good, what do you call it?"

"Butterfly. I am glad you like it, otherwise the name would have been awkward." he winked at me as he went to the other side of the bar to get all the drinks ready for last call.

When last call was done, Chrystal came back to me with my last Butterfly drink. " So, no luck again tonight?"

"Naw, but that's o.k.. I set the mood for a lot of other people, sex is in the air."
I said really meaning it.

"Everyone but you? Been that way here, too."

"No luck for you either?" I smiled at him.

"Ah, none of them my type, beautiful." He winked at me in a playful way.

"Back at yeah, beautiful"

The people were all most out of the bar.

"Play me a song while I clean up, wont you?" Crystal asked lovingly. "You know how much I like your music, sing me a woman, sing me something hopeful, sing me something sad."

"You don't ask for much Crystal, do ya? Is Janis o.k.?"

"Always."







By the time I was down with the last song he was sitting by me. The bar and tables all cleaned up. Mizty was still not ready. I put my old guitar away.

"That was beautiful, Honey."

"Thanks. Glad I could be of service." I said with a smile.

I sat back down back down next to him. I cuddled into his arm. Dressed as a woman or not, I was still small compared to him and his arms are still strong. He just has boobs bigger than mine in the way. They do make good head rests. And so they have become my favorite pillows of late.

I stretched up my neck to kiss him on the check like I usually do and he met my lips with his. First I thought, 'our lipsticks will clash, I am not really a pink lipstick person'. The second thought was 'This is not just a peck' as our mouths opened up.

Time stopped in there for a while. My first real kiss from a man in years and his lipstick clashes with mine.

Mizty proclaimed "Now that is the way to kiss a transvestite! You could give lessons, Baby!"

I broke out of my spell.

I looked at Chrystal and then to the girls all watching us.

"DAMN!" Chrystal proclaimed with his lips pressed tight. "Ahhhhh!" And again he presses his lips and a tear ran down his cheek.

Mizty looks at him over top to bottom and laughs full bodily. "Oh, doll, did you just pop your tape?"

The rest start giggling.

"Tape?" I am confused, by more than tape. "Wait, Chris, aren't you gay?"

"Baby girl, he popped his tape for you! What do you think?" The Asian queen, JuJu Bee, said.

I just looked confused.

"The tape to hold his winkle down, for that all so smooth girl like muffin instead of the bulgy boy look that poor Chrystal now has." She giggles at his pain as she wiggles like a girl.

"I'm not gay!" Chrystal said as he came close to me again. "I like girls, so much so I like being a girl, but I am still a man. And I like you."

With that he leaned in and kissed me again.

A chorus of "awww" came out.

"Let's work this out at my place, o.k." He said with a smile.

Off to his place we went.

I was so used of seeing him as Crystal that without the wig, without the makeup, the short cropped hair and shaven body we very odd to me. He has to convince me a bit he was still Chrystal, the one who loved Janis Joplin songs.

I must say we had fun exploring this for the next few days.

Detail would be pornographic, and a lady doesn't get that crude. I will say I felt loved and connected to the rest of humanity and wonderful pleasure. I felt like a sexual being again.

Across the Universe

Time flies when you are having fun. And I have tried to breath in every great smelling man in the club and remember every second of the reemerging me. I know this time will be over all to soon.

Ever feel that way? You realize the storm lays beyond the horizon, you know you want to stay safe and warm. You try the best you can to rejoice in the warmth of the sun, but your knowledge of the storm lingers in your mind.

I have been here a week.

Now about this time I realize I need to go back. I also have a overwhelming feeling if I do I will die, my soul will shrivel and my body will follow it down that hole. That feeling helps me stay here and convince all my good seances that Cindy was raised in a way I was not. A very normal way. I tell myself this will be a good experience for the girls. I tell myself "isn't this a great opportunity for Cindy to really get to meet and bond with her nieces?" I tell myself one more week, thing nothing more of children, you are not Mumma, you are Butterfly the musician, you are a magical being and you are free. One more week will not hurt anything.

Anyway, I am working of sorts. The more money I earn, the easier it will be this winter to get food and clothes for them. At the club the owner has let me play for tips before the girls come on, as long as it is befitting of the beautiful queens. A lot of women artists. Before I leave the stage Mizty or another will come out and demand the patrons put money in my case. Oh, it works, you have a 6 foot something drag queen demanding you pay the little lady , they do.

During the day I am in my old stomping grounds. I have even gotten one or two gigs here and there in other clubs this week. First week I made over $500. That money will go far back on the farm. I can't believe I have come to the point where that is good money for a week. This week I should make more with the club gigs I have.

I put the girls out of my head for another week.



I have enjoyed the love and attention I get from the boys and girls of the club.

When I started playing down the street for a regular pub, I was shocked at the difference in the vibe.

I looked around between songs for possible shagging material.

Man in his 30's at the bar. Well groomed. Not poor, at least that is what his clothes say. Dark hair , fair skin, white smile, fairly good muscle structure. I do one quick check of the hand. Nope, no wedding ring. This could be a winner.

I try giving him the eye while singing. He seems to be into it.

Good.

Hey being around the boys has not made me forget how to act around the opposite sex. I felt all sorts of confidences come back. Between sets I walk up to the bar and sit next to him. He looks down and me and smiles.

"You sing great, where did you learn?" He inquires with a smooth voice.

"thanks, I learned from an old delta blues man."

He looks at me like I just feed him the biggest line.

"In Kentucky. I lived in Kentucky as a kid. There were some Blues bars down there. He was my Grandparent's neighbour." Something in there was akin to the truth. I smiled at Mr. Prospective Shag.

He was in middle management. He was happy in middle management looking to climb the corporate ladder. It is good to be happy in what you do. We should all feel like what we do makes a difference. Even if it doesn't, or we are just cogs in the machine. We have to feel like a useful cog.

Well he seemed well enough for a shag after the show.

"You going to stick around for the second set?" I asked.

"I wouldn't miss it." He smiled a confident smile back. "maybe we can get a bit somewhere after?"

"Sounds great, I could eat something." A girl should never admit she is starving. I have been trying to save my money and not spend it on stupid things like food. And my new diet has me losing about 10 pounds. Oh I get feed from Eric and Mitzy. But with my playing that ends up being about once a day.

I walk away, I can feel him checking out my ass as I walk away, I swing my hips some.

I settle myself in for the second set. And just in case he forgot what might be on my mind, I played songs that would not let him forget.








You know I got so into the idea of sex I hardly saw the women come into the bar and sit next to him.

She was professional looking, tall and thin. She seemed so put together. Too put together for here.

It has been so long that I forgot what the educate is when another is sniffing around your perspective shag for the evening. Was it a bar stool to the head, an slight dunking of her head in the toilet when I follow her in to the ladies, or was it the clumsy dropping the drink on her.

I pondered these things when I saw him reach into his pocket and put on a ring before she could see. He saw me notice. He smiled a sly smile at me. She noticed me looking at her husband. And have me a "back off ,bitch" look followed with a " you are not even in my league" look for good measure.

I looked at her and smiled. I waved and said And this one is dedicated to the lovely couple at the bar."



She stopped looking at me with disdain. I looked at her with pity. I was her once. Trying so hard to hold on to a man determined to stray. I wondered when she would stop blaming other women for his transgressions. But something in her eyes told me it was soon. Something in his laughter told me he would be blindsided by it.

But in the end I left the bar without diner and a shag or a snog.

I did leave with more money than I came in with. And that was good.

I walked down the street to the now familiar dive, I hear the laughter and joyful song coming from inside. I turn in. The door boy, smiles and winks and lets me in. Eric sits at the far end of the bar admiring his beautiful mate. I sit next to him and give him a kiss on the cheek.

" No luck in getting lucky tonight with the straight boys, huh?"

"What?! I can't give my old friend a kiss on the cheek and a snuggle?" I smiled at him to tell him he was right.

"Ah huh." Eric said with such attitude.

"Leave her alone, Eric, poor girl had her heart tossed around a bit tonight. Or at least her hopes dashed." The bartender said, a tallish pretty blond queen. He has always been sweet to me. "anyhow, we all know what that feels like. Baby, what do you want, on me."

"Surprise me, Beautiful." I said with a wink.

"You do know how to make a girl feel good, Butterfly. Something fruity for ya, coming right up. "

Well, they kept coming up, one fruity drink after another until me and the bartender were braking down men on the stage, my head on his lap, his arm around me. It is nice to be so safe, to have strong arms and no worries.

After a while all I could think about was how perfect his nose was.

Time to leave. Bid my shining white princess adieu and go home to lay my bones down.

Dude looks like a Lady

The club closed at at midnight.

I lost $20 to a lovely lesbian biker couple. My pool hall days never prepared me for them. They invited me to the gallery show opening of their good friend. It is something about women and pain. Something I know well. They also invited me to join them for the night.

I agreed to the art and passed on the group sex. You have to love open relationships. I don't trust them. I don't ever wanted to be a third wheel. But it was nice to be asked. They were the first people interested in me sexually since Mercy was created, I am not even sure if then. It did make me feel a bit alive and that I am a sexual being again. I will always thank them for that.

After the bar closed and the girls were getting into their going home clothes, Mizty asked me to play some music. Something soulful and dark, something sad and strong. Oh so much to choose from, but what does beautiful queens like? Oh they love women larger than life, so large that no man can dear contain them.










"Now baby, you do know how to since the blues. Someday you will have to tell me why." Mitzy put his arm around me and kiss me gently on the check. "But not tonight, because, girlfriend we have got some celebrating to do , after part, it is my man's birthday!" He said standing and smiling making a large stage gesture with his arm like Vanna White to point out Eric.

"Oh, man! Happy birthday Eric!" I jumped up and hugged him. "I'm sorry , I have nothing for you."

"Nonsense, girl." Mitzy was right behind me and coming down to my ear. " He has been saying all day that the goddess of fairies brought you to him today. His birthday present was you. "

" Then off to the after party we go!" I put my guitar away in it's case and strapped it over my back. "Hey wasn't your birthday yesterday" I said as I looked at the clock as we were going out the door.

"Sweetie, the day doesn't end until I close my eyes and sometimes not even then, not where birthdays are concerned. "

Everyone laughed.

"29 is such a big year!" Mitzy proclaimed.

"Yes , indeed, it has been for the last 10 years. SHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! the world outside awaits, fairies of the night." And with Eric's words we entered out into the alley to party on into the night from gay bar to gay bar.

I don't remember coming back into the apartment. I don't remember getting undressed. I don't remember crashing on the sofa. I don't remember much more than leaving the to the alley from the last bar to be sick.

Oh, my head. Make the world stop spinning.

"Sorry, sweet Butterfly, I can't do that, you see the world would stop moving and who would I ever banish from the light?"

I opened my eyes to see Eric.

"Come to think if of it, I can think of quite a few people. We'll start with the republican party." He laughed at his own musing.

"Did I say that out loud?" I got out of my mouth. Oh my mouth, did I pack a tooth brush and mouthwash? Oh mouthwash has alcohol in it. The thought made me nauseous.

"Yup. And from the looks of you I better help you to the bathroom."

Before I knew it I was in the bathroom making sick all over the place.

There are some moments in your life that make you realize you are too old for drinking like Peter O'Toole and Richard Harris. They even came to that conclusion at some point. Though it does make for great stories you make up later.

After cleaning the bathroom and myself and washing my mouth out several times with mouthwash, I emerged from the bathroom a new woman.

Ah bright light, bright light. "Sun glasses, anyone have sunglasses?"

This went on for more than a day. I will not bore you with the details but I did like being pampered, I almost faked it for a few more hours. But Mizty caught on quick when I could keep an egg down. He started batting me about with some sort of piece of his long silk scarf that made me stop.

By nighttime I felt better.

By nighttime I was expected to go back to the club. We went early as Mizty preforms in the cabaret.

Mizty asks me to come along with him early. He needs to get ready for the show. He does so many divas. While he and the girls get ready, work out details, etc, he wants me to play.

The owner likes the music. But this is a gay bar. A la cage au faux show. Not meant for the blues. The audience wants outrageous queens to go with their girls night out, bachelorette parties, birthday celebrations or first dates. They do not want to be brought down.

He is fine for me playing for the girls, it makes them happy but lets me know once it is time for the show it is time for me to pack it up.

The people file in and I go back stage, I put my guitar in Mizty's dressing room and stand off sides.

The first night I loved watching her and the other girls. But now I love watching the audience react to them. I have gone up to shy women and told them to just get up there and give them the money. Tips like strippers in their fake bosom brazers.

When Mizty comes out he transforms into the divas of old.

Aretha was the first, the women went wild, so did the guys. But like Chrystal points out in every show, "All your straight girls, the boys all look pretty but they are just not into you."




And that makes this the safest place in the world for a woman like me. Don't get me wrong, I want a man. I want a man like the faux divas are singing about. But I am not in the position to get one. And these very real men, in dresses, shower me with love and kisses. the safest place in the world, like I said, to teach me how to except the love from other adults without the fear of of my heart getting broken in the process.

Eartha Kitt is a favorite of Mizty. She just channelled this great woman.



I Will Survive is many many women's, real and fake, anthem. All the women cheer and stand up. Dancing follows. Such a joyous song for us. It's a good thing the only boys in the club are boys.




Oh I cheered all night and danced on the sidelines and watched the people in the crowd. There is something magical about being here. No one cares if I have a butterfly on my face, if my house if clean enough nor do they care if I have a few extra pounds.

I feel beautiful. In every way. I see beauty in everyone here.




After the show I played a while, as requested by the girls, while they did a meet and great with with people who hung around. A young man , so bright of spirit waits for the slight queen who looks way too much like the real thing. He takes female hormones so his breasts grow in natural. No fake tatas on him. Damn I wish mine looked that good after 4 children.

The young man with the gleam in his eye, acts to cool as he hands her a $20. She excepts is with a smile and a peck to the cheek. He smiles and both know that is all he will get. But he is happy. He walks over to me and hands me a $20 too. I smile at him. And he smiles the sweetest smile. He is so nice. So real about his niceness.

He was the first boy I wished was straight. I stood up and kissed him on the cheek. And he reminded me how much of a beautiful gay man he was by his expression of "awwwww".

It was enviable that if I was here long enough I would start seeing the beautiful boys as more, but so quickly.

I decided that night, I must find a straight guy for a one night stand before I leave. You may ask, why just a one night thing? Well simply put, I can't stay here for ever and I can't bring someone back to the girls either. I put my mind and fantasies into that and let the pretty boys flight of fancy fly right back out of my head.

diamonds on the souls of her shoes,

Cindy, my sister. Still in her 20's. She is well dressed, As in "those shoes cost more than my whole family's wardrobe". But that is not hard to do nowadays.

She knows obviously, that I am her sister.

This fact hit me first.

"So, you know I am your sister and not your Aunt? When did you find out? And why no sisterly love before this?"

O.k. so at this point I was thinking how I could have used a sister since Ian left. I could have used a babysitter every now and then. I could have used a shoulder to cry on. My kids could have used a stable person around while I was falling apart.

Yeah, how long did she know?




"I tell you our mother is dead, and that is what you have to ask me?" Cindy vex perplexed. Her brows and furled and she looked at the ground to me to the sky to the rolling hills. "Don't you care?"

"I care more that you know I am your sister. I care more that you weren't around. I care to know how long." I said quickly.

She seems upset. Real upset. I had all but forgotten she and her brother existed, I almost forgot Bobbi existed. Occasionally I wonder what happened to them, whether or not they were still alive. But the thoughts didn't last long and they were far and years between.

"She was a mother to you, I get that. But you need to understand, she was not to me, nor was she that sister she pretended to be either. I didn't loose a mother, but knowing I had a sister who didn't care to contact me until now, that is a slight more important to me." I looked her straight in her harsh looking eyes. "I a, sorry for your loss, but I lost her a very long time ago. I thing it was about 8 months and 29 days before my birth. I hope you can understand my life has been very different from yours, from what little I can remember of you." I sighed and she softened.

Cindy sighed heavily too.

"I realized when you called Granny, Grandmother. I heard them talk hen they thought I was asleep. I heard Mother on the phone when you had the baby." she looked towards the car. "Your first baby." she corrected herself. "I picked up the other receiver. I heard about your brother. But after that, after that... I was young. Very young at the time. I kept it in the back of my head. When Granny died I hoped to talk to you at the wake or funeral, but you never came. No-one talked about you. When I asked where you were, I was told nobody knew." She said looking me right in the eye.

Well this seemed like a emotional sister conversation that I had seen other sisters have. I smiled. She looked confused. I hugged her. She seemed confused.

"Just like real sisters. " I said as I let her go.

"What?!" She recoiled back a little

" We see things different just like real sisters. " I smiled. " we argue the point like real sisters." I smiled again. "I could use a sister."

She smiled a little, not sure what to think. Here begins the awkward silence.

In the awkward silence my daughters came out of the car. The came and stood around me. They looked at her.

Unlike my for-mothers, I don't believe children are imbeciles or deaf. I know they are very good listeners.

"This is your aunt Cindy. "

They all looked at her wide eyed. They have gone through a lot of aunts and uncles that are no longer here. They are removed from family so easily. It is the story of almost every divorced kid. At this moment being torn away from the commune made me realized I knew this feeling too. From then on you precede with caution.

"Hello, girls." Cindy said as she bent down to little Mercy and smiled.



That was the beginning of my crazy month.

Some times you have to take time out in your life to have a crazy time.

Now I know what you might be thinking, what was all that bathtub gin about, seemed pretty crazy. Naw, that was just coping. And there is nothing like your mother dying to put just coping over the edge to crazy for a while.

If I had someone to watch the girls, I probably would have gone crazy after Ian left. I couldn't afford to. I had 4 babies. One of them literally a baby.

Now I have Cindy. I took some time to digest everything. Away from the girls.

Cindy caught me up. Cancer. Brest. Genetic kind. 6 months ago. No-one told me. No one called me. No one tracked me down until 6 months later.

Cindy finished up her schooling in Boston. Sandra. Sandra was watching over her, keeping tabs on her. She finally told her she should look me up. She should hunt me down since we lived in the same state, than slipped her my address. Took her another 6 weeks to do it.

I should be upset with Sandra and Carol for not telling me. They told Cindy it was her responsibility to tell me. To find me. To make some links back. They were right of course.

After a week at my house, after making calls to Sandra and Carol, I figured it was safe enough to leave the girls with Cindy. She was taking time off between school and life. She just broke up with her fiance she had at school. In the end they wanted different things. Nothing earth-shattering bad. She was looking for something that would take her mind off it, so many reasons why we end up where we end up, the right thing done for other reasons, still turns out to be the right thing.

She doesn't really know anything about me beyond the girl she saw so many years ago and the woman, single mother, 4 girls, slightly a bit of a train wreck she sees before her. Everything in between didn't happen, didn't exists, she never knew butterfly. It is funny , we only see people as what we see them at during that moment of time. It is hard to see them as anything else. I think that is why it is so hard to change. When people put you in a role, they like you to keep playing it. Even yourself. You get caught up in it. Role of a lifetime. This is why moving is so popular among women in my situation. You get to get a new role of a lifetime.

Best place to go crazy? Not in the town you live in. Hell no. Find a city. One far enough away you are not about to meet up with the townsfolk.

I kissed my babies goodbye. I pack my old steel guitar and a small bag with a few changes of clothes. Boston your my town. I remember how free I felt there. How bound I felt there. But mostly how young I was there. Crazy is the gift of youth and old age. You are allowed to be off center without too much judgement. In between we yearn for pieces of its sweet freedom.

Well that was my plan when I drove to Boston that last summer's day, to go crazy for a while, try to recapture my youth. Hell I promised myself I wouldn't even look at a mirror fir the time I was there.

I wish I was in heaven sitting down

The girls all washed and in their Sunday best. For the first time for Sunday church.

I had past the church in the center of town many times and thought little of it other than a good example of the stone architecture of the time. It always struck me as strange it had star of David in the middle of the left tower. The first time I passed it I thought it was amazing we had a Temple in town. I was assured it was the First Congregational Church when I asked where the knishes were at the Church bazaars and picnic the first year we were in town.

For the record they didn't know what a knish was. Nor any other Jewish food I asked for. At that point they thought Ian married a Jew. I just went along with it and tried to invite the pastor over for the Sador. He bowed out gracefully.

Ian and the girls were the only ones who got the joke. Though there were less girls back then.

Some years later I did tell his wife it was just a joke since no-one seemed to think an star of David was unusual for a church. She was shocked to hear it was a Jewish symbol. It must have been there so long no-one made the connection. Funny how it takes a stranger to notice something you see all the time.

People , passers by have always pointed out to me things I never noticed about myself in my youth. I yearn for those days again every now and again. It seems everyone I see now I have seen for years and there are no strangers around sent from some celestial place for wisdom to filter through.




Back to church. We, of course, got there 5 minutes late. Last time I did this , I was the kid. There is no better way to make an entrance in the local small town church than to arrive 5 minutes late with a bunch of load questioning girls, the kind of questions you don't want resonating through a silent Church. Questions like " what is church and why are we going?" "why do we have to be quite?" And my all time favorite from my oldest "shouldn't you still be asleep at this hour, mother?"

And me, tired and weary, and yes, usually at this time I am still sleep this time of day on a Sunday, instead of being embarrassed in front of most of the town and all of the town's gossips.


The preacher had stopped what he was saying as I was trying to slip into church with my noisy bunch. He waved us in. I took the road of pride and walked us to the middle of the church instead of the back of the church where I was hoping no-one would notice us. No chance of that now.






Fidget was the word in my family for the next hour. An hour of constant correction. The one thing going through my mind "why do women who have children put themselves through this?" why did my grand mother with all those kids do this? I do remember she didn't care after a while, when I ran away. When I left to catch frogs and learn from Moses. She didn't realize after a while I was going to church with Moses' family.

Oh no, the thought of genetics came to mind. These girls are all mine. How can they do anything but fidget. I braced myself to see if any would bolt out the door.

About that time the preacher preached about a sows ear and a silk purse all while looking at us. How flashbacks of my grandmother's church was coming to me. Filtering through my mind in between the hushed words to Solas and Freedom. The words of hatred and condemning those Jesus would have loved.

I really don't think Precious really meant this for me and the girls.

Then something strange happened.

Oh nothing like Mother Mary coming down to make my girls perfect angels, but something that threw me just the same.

Preacher talked about hidden talents. About other loves. About people not being what they seemed. That people had lives before they arrived. that people are different than what you believe them to be.

Then he came down to me and asked me to come up,

"take for example, Emma, here. " he said to the congregation " How many of you know she was a musician? or that she even record an album in Europe? Oh I am sure you were aware of her husband's musical career..."

I was so proud of my self for not interrupting him to point out that Ian was my EX husband, as in former and no longer.

"But Mrs McEwing here, is a musician in her own right, and they meet when he was he back up musician."

He stopped to let that all soak in.

"So I have asked Mrs McEwing up here to see if she would grace us with a song or two this morning as our Mrs. Benoit is unable to play for us due to an ailment. It must have been God himself who directed Mrs McEwing here today with her daughters to fill in." he smiled and brought me a guitar.

How can you say no when GOD HIMSELF brought you to church to fill in. Maybe in more ways than he knew.

I tuned the unfamiliar instrument. I wish I had my old steel one for this. But I make due. I tuned it to my satisfaction and sat down on the chair the preacher fetched for me. I sang two songs. Old ones. I avoided looking at the town's people before me trying to get my old mojo going. Just like the old days with Moses.







I must say, it felt great to sing in front of people again.

I noticed the town folk in front of me. They looked shocked. I don't think they were used of the blues or gospel. I wasn't sure what to make of them. Strange people, don't know what good music is.

The preacher smiled at me as he retrieved the guitar and the chair and put them aside.

"If I am not mistaken, Mrs McEwing, that was examples of the blues you learned growing up in the south."

I smiled back and said "Yes, I would often play in church in my youth." I really wanted to say "Will you stop calling me by Ian's name AND IT IS MS SMITH, the name change came with the divorce decree." But I didn't, I just smiled and looked meek as I walked back to my pew. My girls were smiling at me.

Damn, Ian must have told him a lot about me.

"Mama, you sing good" Mercy said in her little voice. That was all the justification I needed for the day that I still had it.

As we left the church the preacher asked us to come back, "Don't make yourselves strangers to God's house. " he said.

The jury was still out on that in my head. The ride back home was nearly uneventful. Mercy did ask who my husband was. It made me laugh. Freedom quickly said we don't talk about that. We really don't talk about that in our house. I realized she really had no clue who Ian was, how could she, she was only a few weeks old. And the next youngest, Chas, she barely could remember some vague man who was around and than not. His loss. I kept saying that in my head all the way home. It pushed out any feeling of the blues I had for them not having a father.



When we got home a woman was there. Blonde, thin, bright blue eyes with freckles. Much younger than me.

"Can I help you? Are you lost? " I said as I told the girls to stay in the car and I ventured toward her.

"Are you Dani?"

"That was a lifetime ago." I replied. Been decades since someone called me that.

"Where is your birth mark?"

"Under my makeup? Do you need to see it for some reason?" Now I was getting annoyed. She doesn't seem like some long lost fan. I could only think of the millions of ways this young woman has come to mess with my life.

"You don't remember me?" she said hopeful.

Now I was starting to worry for my children. "Sorry? Should I? " I said as nonthreatening as I could. " I have meet a lot of people over the years. Maybe a hint?" Though something about her reminded me of someone. I couldn't put my finger on it, but what ever it was made me very uneasy and worry for my children.

" It was a long time ago. I suspect you wouldn't. I was only a little girl." She looked to the ground "No easy way to say this."

"Well, easier if you just spit it out and let the chips fall sometimes, I find." I replied in a friendly voice, hoping she wasn't carrying a weapon.

"Mom's dead, sis."

I'll never let go of your hand

During the months after the awaking the gavel coming down brought me to the sleep of of a whole different kind, a waking dream of me sleepwalking. My mind not wanting to really accept He didn't love me. He never loved me. I was that easily replaced when too old. All those promises were lies. The children I created with him were nothing. Not made of love. Not sacred.

It would have been easier if I had some friends. I seemed to have isolated myself here on this hill, in the farmhouse so old and wooden, so many years ago. I brought my children to a place to be raised of frogs and chickens.

I forgot all but those fun things small farm towns had. The remembering everything else was the hardest part. In the beginning it didn't matter really that I wasn't accepted for the talented, creative, mysterious, loving, kind, curious, magical person I was. All they saw was the mark of my freakishness on my face and my rock star attitude. None of the rest. I tried. They just couldn't see beyond their own preconceptions of me. But unlike when I was a child, I had a man, we had a plan. We had a family. And they could go jump in the big ole lake that housed a town at the bottom of it.

That attitude didn't help when you are without a man. Now I am the freaky bitch who couldn't keep her man. Some of the older women in the shops gave me that look of pity as I try to wrestle my girls out of their stores without too much incidents. It is considered a success if it is under a half hour and nothing gets broken, with one girl going this way, Freedom holding another , another goes another way and Freedom bitching about the child she is holding.

I don't like going to the stores. Not that I have the money for it.

Money. That child support that was ordered came regular for the first few months, then, then... well we all know how this story goes. You get some here and there. when the mood strikes him or he feels guilty. Having children with no friends or family to watch them means mama don't work.

So small town in the boonies and not one outed gay man about for me to lay my pitiful head on his shoulders equals one sorrowful pitiful Emma.

Yup, I dropped the Butterfly crap for the locals, trying to fit in, you know.

Nowadays. I find myself making bathtub wine, in my spear time and finding the occasional extra change for Malibu to drown my sorrows in.




I yearn, in my time of my eyes closing tight, for arm around me, I can almost remember the feel of Ian's around me as we danced or as I made dinner when he came up from behid, not to mention the times in the bed, I have such a hard time thinking of it as making love any more.

In those times, I awake to believe it was all a bad dream and I forget he is not here. His side of the bed as cold as the day he left it. It comes rushing back as I begin my day.

Midsummer's night.

Oh how I miss England.

All the stories of magical Fae.

Where ecsentric is just a quirk of nature to make life more interesting.

Oh England. Where my only family lay.

I think.

Last time I talked to Kim he said he wished me luck and love. He said he wish he could over here and solve all my problems but... oh I hate that word, it is like it negates everything before. Not that I blame him. He said we both had families. He said we both had responsibilities and his keeps him in England. He now looks for talent like his step dad did. He has 3 children of his own. Though he did end with: " you are always welcome to come back home, the wife can help you with those beautiful girls of yours. And if I ever see Ian again, I will make good on my promise made on your wedding day. Luv ya sis, got to go."

I can't blame him and sometimes I think about selling off the farm and moving back home. But, we are both adults now and he shouldn't be having to take care of me all my life. He was my white knight once. He has a woman and children who needs his protection now.

We called every now and again. When I couldn't afford the phone bill so that put the end to that when the phone was shut off.

Midsummer's' night.

Warm and cloudless. Stars that went on for ever. The fireflies tries rival the stars for my attention. They hovered and swirled in their lover's dance.

Me and my wool blanket full of sunset colours. We bought it out west when we went to the Navajo reservation. I wanted to see if Suzie was still there. She wasn't. It is funny how you go to a far away place to find your past and realize that it vanished and all the players moved on. We stopped at a trading post found the blanket for our bed. The man behind the counter recognized my butterfly. Joseph. He sold trinkets to the tourist. He got grown up with a family. Funny he was still a boy in my head and I still a little girl in his.

The blanket I should have burnt it. I could not. More than Ian it reminded me of Joseph. I can't get rid of one of the memories with out the other going up in smoke too.

I have my old steel guitar and a bottle of Malibu.

The were girls asleep, I locked the doors and went to watch the moonless night under the old apple tree. The moss under it is soft and cushy.

I play old blues songs of lost love and heart ache. Most of them by men. I fell asleep when I could stand no more about how when are so wrong.



"Wake up , child!" I heard and it felt like someone kicked my butt.

"Girl! I said wake up your lazy good for nothing butt up!"

Damn all this yelling I rise from my sleepy drunkenness.

Damn I must be drunk. He sounds so familiar that deep old voice.

"Now don't you be treating that child like that, Moses, she's got the blues something bad." A soft voice said.

I got to my elbows and tried to focus on what was going on.

"Moses?" I said. Slowly figures seem to come to focus, illuminated by the fireflies and glowing against the night.

"Who do you think it is? Denzel Washington?"

"How do you know about Denzel?"

"Oh child, I am dead I am not uninformed! And especially not uninformed about your foolishness!" Moses said in that very scolding tone I heard only once or twice.

"Moses!"

"Oh Precious, you see this foolishness this child has gotten up to! Don't be Mosesing me."

"She has been going though a lot. But darling, it is enough now. Those babies need you! You are their mother and that Freedom of yours, she's having to grow up too quick. You are hurting that baby of yours."

I looked down. The bottle was empty. The words stung. "I just don't know what else to do."

"You be a MAMA! How hard is that! I taught you better than this, child. You are being as bad as that mother of yours and those grandparents who couldn't care less for you. " Moses word made me cry.

"Baby, tears wont help those girls, you SHOW them that you LOVE them. You pick yourself up, brush off your derriere and get back to raising those girls right! It wont hurt to take them to church, too. You got any good Baptist preachers up here? "

I started laughing at Precious words. "I think I am five steps beyond church. No Baptists here only judgemental white women wearing pink sweaters."

"Oh, child, We had those down south, too. White or coloured folk, those pink sweater ladies are more judgemental than any good Christan should be. BUT that never kept good folk like you and me from going to church. Your daughters ever been to church?" Precious said.

"Not all of them." I looked back down to the moss under my hands.

"Than you better get them there. It is Sunday morning after all."

"But you are just a midsummer's' nights dream." I shook my head.

"We may be a lot of things, girl, but it is time for you to get your ass up and get those babies to church. Here comes first light." Moses points to the east and indeed I see the sun rising.

"Not much time to make breakfast and get those girls dressed." Precious said in such a loving voice.

"But I... is this all you have come to me for? To scold me? I am so lost."

"You are lost. So I gave you a kick in the butt to show you the direction home. Don't make me do it again!"

I sat up straight now covering my butt with the solid ground.

"We love you baby, that is why we came. You do what you are supposed to, trust in the good Lord to take care of the rest." Those loving words Precious said as they faded into the sunrise were the most kind words I heard in a long time.

I got up grabbed my guitar and blanket and bottle went into the house.

I deposited the bottle in the trash and started making pancakes.

I have made pancakes every Sunday since.

The smell of pancakes woke the girls. I set the table and explained they all needed to get dressed after they ate in their finest clothes.

"Why?" Freedom asked more bratty than curiously.

"Because we are going to church."

"What's church?" Solace and Chaz asked

"You'll find out. And if we like it maybe we will go back some more."

They started scampering off to their rooms to change when I heard "I love you Mummy" and I realized I have heard those words all this time. It just dawned on me that every day I was showered with love I just wasn't willing to except it because it wasn't the kind I wanted.

Feel Me

The track to justice is full of pitfalls, traps, snipers and highwaymen. It is the best way I can describe filing for divorce and child support.

I remember hearing me men friends over the year talk about the "leaching women using the system with their free lawyers meant to milk men dry". Lord knows I tried but could not find anyone like that to help. I stood in long lines with people who gave me papers to fill out and when asked a question told me to hire a lawyer or that I didn't want it bad enough. Once the legalize was filled out than they wanted money for this and that fee. There were no free leaching lawyers. I can see why after all this women are so hateful by the time they see the men in court.

Oh, than they make you wait. And wait. And wait.

You want it over yesterday. You want it all gone so you can start over. You think that once the judge bangs the gavel it all magically disappears. All the hate and love and resentment and good and bad memories and the extra weight while we are at it.

So I spend about a year going from crying to hope to eating too much ice cream to not eating at all to eating ice cream again. I don't remember much more from that year. I wish I did. It was like my mind was turned off and my survival primal brain took over.



I looked through my closet and found the most respectable dress I could find. One that said I am a responsible mother. I am not a unstable emotional bundle of nerves who can't keep a man. Funny enough it is the same outfit I go to funerals in.

I put my war paint on. First a heavy base. I still have some of my old stage make up when I wanted to cover this mark of wings that don't work. My eyeshadow and lipstick so unlike me, so unbold, so unsluty, just like the pink sweater ladies brigade that dislike me so much. It is what people want to believe is an honorable woman. I look like them. Well a rounder version of them.

As I look in the mirror at a reflection I don't recognize I tell myself I will lose this extra pre divorce depression weight off to the out and about divorcee slimmer me like I used to be back before I knew Ian.

Walking into the courtroom is like walking into a tomb.

The walls and stairs and column. All stone cold.

It seems so silence and dark.

Oh wait that is me, I must remember to keep breathing.

I wish I took something to kill this pain.



But I didn't because I didn't want the judge to think me an addict. But As I breath and sound comes back to my ears so loud I do feel like I imagine detoxing must be to a heroin addict. The sweats start. This make up and funeral suit are so hot with so many people.

I make it to a seat. As sight and sound come back more firmly I look over and see that all familiar face. I smile instectively. He doesn't see me. His is the only face that I recognize. It has been a year.

My mind goes to those places I would not allow it to go before. All those years. All that love. all those babies made. Seeing him hold his first child. Gleaming with pride and love.

The love. I get so caught up in that feeling. Like seeing an old friend again after a long time. Some silly spat you don't remember quite what it was about. Like time to move on with the feeling you had once, a love so strong you can forgive some little trifle thing and get back to being a family.

As I stood I could see him in my waking dream beg the judge time to talk to me, to save is marriage, his family. He realized he made a mistake. He realized that some loved were greater.

Then she walked in with his son.

The son I could never give him.

Not gaining an ounce for the trouble.

He smiles at her and kisses her as she sits with the boy in her arms.

His lawyer whispers in his ear.

I tried not to hate him. I tried not to let pain back in. I tries to hold on to the love I just felt.

I don't remember much of the time there after that. The Lawyer, "blah blah blah" and " so you see he has a new family to support, she has her own means, she has the house, give her no more" and more "blah blah blah" and "loves all his children, this woman kept him from them" and more "blah blah blah".

If I had a friend to stand with me, maybe I would have remembered more. If I had a friend who asked me later at a pub I would have told them just that.

In the end I only ended up with $1000 a month to live off of with the 4 children. Not all school age. Meaning I had no way to go to work. Not that there was much work where I lived. Small towns don't tend to hire the town freak.

I walked out of the cold cold court room after the clap of thunder that was the gavels strike. I was trying so hard to hold on to the images of the past. I tries so hard not to cry. I made it all the way back to the car.

With all those nasty things his lawyer said about me, I wonder if he remembered any of the past at all. He had moved on.

I came to realize all my best days were behind me. I had no clue how I got to the pub. I have no clue how I got home that night. I remember paying the babysitter who wanted double for being gone so long. The next thing I remember was waking up with my old guitair wrapped in a blanket on the deck sitting in the Adirondack chair.

Though I could have swore I saw Moses put the blanket around me.