Chapter three

A Chapter by Satchmo's Gal

I now realize why Sunday is my day of solitude, and why my mom spends half the day at Church. It took us over in hour to get to the church in Chicago. It was one of those old fashioned churches with stain glass windows and rows and rows of pews, where a bunch of old ladies sat, greeting my mother by name. A few adults and a couple of girls my age introduced themselves, but I was too distracted to notice. What was happening to Alex right now? Was she crying? Being kicked out? What would her mother say? Or her father? I had only met Alex’s father once. He was a very tall and scary man, with buggy eyes that made you scared to look into. What did he have to say?

“And Rochelle, dear, this is Reverend Frank.”

Reverend Frank was a tall skinny old man with white hair and a yellow smile. “Why nice to meet you Rochelle. Your mother has talked a lot about you.”

“Yes.” I looked around for her, but she wasn’t in sight. Yeah, because I want to be alone with a 60 year old man with a creepy smile.

"So Rochelle. Your mother mentioned you were in the band at your school…”

I tuned him out. A couple of nods later, I was in the car, my mom talking enthusiastically to me, shifting from French to English so quickly I couldn’t keep up.

The carpet in my room has tread marks where my feet paced, taking breaks to check AIM for Alex's screen name, urging it to come online. It didn't, and her icon (a pair of dainty pink ballet slippers) danced at me like nothing was wrong. I knew better. Her mom had been too cold, her body too stiff behind the wheel as she drove off, Alex in tow, for her to turn around and be okay with this. With us. “Rochelle?” I heard Clarie call from down the hall “Rochelle?” I didn't answer, just kept pacing as I heard her jiggle the doorknob. “Rochelle? Let me in.” I heard her sniffle on the other side “I sorry.”

I rolled my eyes, turning to unlock the door. Why did she have to be so cute? I opened the door to see Clarie beginning to cry. I keeled down to her level, putting a finger under her chin to tilt her head up. “Don’t cry mademoiselle.” I wiped the tears from her rosy cheeks, “you have nothing to be sorry for. Rien du tout,” She giggled, her face brightening at the first mention her native tongue.

“Bien mademoiselle Rochelle” She fingered something around her neck, and I realized it was a pendant made entirely out of pearl. Mom's cross. She had given it to me when I was young, advising me to keep the lord close to my heart... and had asked for it back only days before. I stared at it, tears almost spilling out of my eyes before turning away. I closed the door behind Clarie and collapsed onto my bed, only letting a single tear slither down my face before I smothered my face with a pillow to muffle my scream.

I felt a small source of warmth on my arm “Rochelle?” I heard Clarie's soft whisper “what's wrong?” I sat up, the pillow falling off my face in onto the floor, my face blotchy and flushed with embarrassment. I had forgotten Clarie was in the room and a ping of guilt ran through me as I saw her eyes were wide with fear of the sudden outburst.

“Nothing Claire” I put a hand on her arm, patting it reassuringly “It's just some stuff going on.”

“Are you sad that god doesn't like you?” I paused at that.

“What was that?”

“Auntie says that god doesn't like people that are lezbians, and that she wishes that you would at least give guys a chance before you go and become a dyke.” she tilted her head, like a dog discovering a new chew toy “What's a dyke?”

My gazed burnt a hole in the wall. “She said that to you?”

She shook her head. “No, she said that to the Reverend Frank. What's a dyke?”

“A dyke is a very bad name for someone like me. It's like calling someone a butthead. I think it's time to go to bed Clarie”

“But Auntie said-”

“Well I said goodnight.” I turned to face her, fire still burning in my eyes, and got up to usher her out of the room. She went without question, going to her room but turning to face me in the doorway as I stalked down the stairs to the kitchen

My mother sat at the head of the table like a queen, gabbing on the phone as she finished her dinner. I held down the receiver, glaring at her as she looked up in surprise. “Rochelle what in the-”

I slammed my hand on table, making her plate jump and her glass tip over. “You know its one thing to not accept me, but to go behind my back and gossip about me to people. It's disgusting. Dyke, mom? Is that what you think I am?”

I wanted her to look me in the eye, but she wouldn't. Instead she watched the wine flow like a waterfall onto her lap. “Who told you this?”

“Who do you think? Clarie overheard you. Apparently God hates me now.”

“Well he's not exactly pleased.”

“…What?”

She stood up, the wine puddling onto the floor like a pool of blood. “Did you ever think about how you hurt this family. How much embarrassment and shame you put on us by choosing this, this, lifestyle? Clarie's running around saying that this, this liking girls, is okay. And your grandmother will have a heart attack when she finds out.”

“How much I shamed this family? Mom this is about how much I shamed you!” I laughed bitterly “This has always been about you. You wanted grandchildren, you wanted a son-in-law. You wanted juicy gossip to tell your friends. And I haven't even begun to tell my friends yet.” I crossed my feet and turned, running out the back door. I stopped in the middle of my backyard, and threw my hands up in true gospel style. “I'M A LES-” My mom followed close behind me, putting her hand around my mouth. I struggled with her, tears falling down my face, before finally breaking free and turning to face her. SLAP. Her hand came in contact with my cheek so fast, I didn't realized it happened until it was over.

She gasped, putting her hands to her mouth, whereas I laughed, doubling over to slap my knee before I stood up, looking directly into her eyes “I didn't choose this mom. This chose me” I poked a finger at my chest “And I'm glad that it did. And I'm glad that Clarie knows, because I am sick of hiding. So let them all hear.” I pushed her aside, and ran back into the kitchen and up the stairs to my room. It was a half hour before I heard her come in, and another ten minutes before she went upstairs and turn the lights off. I tip-toed out into the hallway, opening the closet door to grab three towels. When I got back into my room I stuffed them in the crack below my door. I would not let her hear me cry.

“Hey Rochelle, you okay?”

I cursed silently. How did she always know? I closed my locker, and turned. Her visage grew more and more concerned as my eyes met hers. “Oh Elle…”

“I’m fine.” My voice cracked a little, “Clarie kept me up all night crying with her, that’s all”

Natalie’s eyes widened. She would jump off a building for me, but if she had to choose between me and Clarie to push off, I’d be a grease stain on the street in a matter of moments. “What happened?”

“She got upset about some fight outside.”

Natalie tilted her head to the side, brushing her fingertips against my cheek. I had tried to cover the bruise with makeup, but a faint purple undertone still lay there. “What happened to you?”

I jerked my head away “Marching band.” Natalie still didn’t seem convinced, so I quickly added “Ajay knocked me with his quads. I’ll be fine.”

Natalie raised her eyebrow, a skill she has perfected after 14 years of befriending moi. “Alright…” her eyes widened suddenly and she gasped “I forgot to tell you!”

“Tell me what?”

Natalie smiled, “I got asked out. On a date” She slowed the last part, before coming to a stop, her lips pursed and her eyes gazing at the locker door. “With Bevin.”

She waited for my reaction like a person would wait for a nuclear bomb. I furrowed my brow “Bevin from the second grade?”

“Yea…”

“That’s um, great.”

“And…”

I groaned “I hate the ands”

Natalie started walking “And I kinda lost it.”

It took me a minute to contemplate what she said. I caught up to her “Lost what?”

“Um. Something...”

“Your necklace?”

“No…”

I tried again “Your…wallet?”

“No…”

What could she have lost? Then I grasped it.

“Your…V?” She looked at me pathetically “So I should take this as a yes?”

“Are you mad?”

I laughed a bit “Why would I be mad? It’s you virginity.”

“Shh…” She looked around. “I don’t want anyone to know.”

“Well too late. At least three people know. You, me and Bevin.” Then I gasped overdramatically “Unless he wasn’t conscious…”

I landed on the floor with a loud thump, laughing and for a moment forgetting the events of the past 24 hours. A hand gripped mine to help me up and I took it blindly, opening my eyes to see chocolate brown instead of hazel. “Hola chicas.” Alex said, smiling. She was wearing more makeup than usual, but I could still see the puffiness beneath her eyes. She had been crying too.

“Hey Alex.” Natalie spotted Bevin by the vending machine “bye Alex!”

I turned to wave, but she was already gone, abandoning me in favor of her not-so-innocent boyfriend. Swiveled to Alex, who was still staring at me. I mimicked what Natalie had said to me at my locker. “You okay?”

She glanced around. No one was staring, but she grabbed me by the arm and walked with me anyway, waving at several girls that were smoking in the courtyard. “My mom… She’s pissed I didn’t tell her.”

“Did she do anything to you?” She didn’t respond. “Alex what’d she do?” A mumble escaped her lips “What?”

She pulled on the edge of her collar, exposing a purplish bruise. “She tried to grab me.” She looked down, shuffling her feet “My dads coming home this weekend. I have to tell him”

My eyes flickered from the bruise to her face. The bell rang for third period broke our daze, and Alex hurried off, leaving me with ‘I’m sorry’ on my lips.

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© 2010 Satchmo's Gal

Author's Note

Sorry the format is a bit out of whack. My computer is fighting me at the moment. Anyway, I really want your honest opinion. Did you like it, hate it, what could I improve on, or even if you think the storyline or the characters are boring or stupid. Just let me know. Thanks!!