I made him look forward again at the end of the hall and pushed open the wall that was a hidden door, “Like Stewie said,” Charlie turned back at me, imitating Stewie where we left him, jaw dropped.
“Oz.”
Before we even made it down the stairs, we could hear the ruckus. It sounded busy already. The black hidden staircase that traveled downward with two landings to turn us to the right after four steps each before going straight down.
The cellar was exposed brick with scuffed up wood floors, like any old cellar, but there was a beautiful wooden bar constructed on the left side with ten stools with a mirror on the wall and bottles of liquor displayed. Another five round tables and a small area to dance to the music that came from an old record player sitting at the end of the bar where anyone could change the music, shelves of records under the bar top. ‘Rock Around The Clock’ was currently spinning on the needle.
We were halfway down the stairs, still holding hands and now exposed to the floor when I heard a shout, “Oh fuck! Look at the jackass that just walked in?”
I laughed, shaking my head. It’d been a while since I had made an appearance. Waiting at the bottom, the culprit that called me a jackass made himself known, standing there with one of his hands on a hip, leg extended out with attitude. He was the one that took me under his wing when I first started coming here and helped me understand myself. “Where the fuckhave you been, huh? Another week, I would have sent a search party into the mine, and we know how that would have ended.”
I smiled at the man, who was mid-thirties with a soft frame but not completely out of shape. He had reddish hair that made him stand out easily, even if he didn’t talk. I stepped around Charlie to hug him, making sure to guide his hand to my upper back, “Hi, Mickie. How have you been?”
“Doing well, I guess,” he let go and stood back to get a look at me. After seemingly passing his assessment, he continued, “The steel plant is really producing a lot, at the moment. Rumor has it, they have new bridges in the works to cross all the rivers and expand the just finished highway south of here up to the city to connect them all. We’ve had to hire more men.”
“That’s a big rumor. You’d think we already have enough bridges to get into and out of the city,” I looked around the room at the other fifteen men or so.
At that moment, Charlie brushed up against my arm, coming to huddle next to me, nervously. Mickie finally noticed our hands were attached, “Well, I’ll be.” His face lit up radiantly.
“Oh, sorry. Mickie, this is Charlie.” I turned to Charlie and told him who Mickie was to me. He gave a small smile, saying hello while also looking around the room, taking it all in. “Welcome to The Underground, Charlie.” Giving his hand a little shake.
“Come on, I’ll get you your first round,” taking us to an open spot at the bar waving at Sam, a beautiful black man serving drinks. There waiting were two other men that I knew. “Hi Donald. Jacob. How are you both?” They were both drinking two fingers of a golden-brown liquid with a giant rock in the glass.
“I think the more important question is, how have you been,” Jacob said, immediately spotting Charlie,brows bouncing. I shook my head, the ends of my mouth pointing up making my cheeks tense with happiness. I introduced everyone, Charlie staying close, his shoulder attached to the back of mine, our palms were getting sweaty, but I didn’t care. Mickie got us two Iron City beers which I noticed Charlie grimace, remembering the night he tracked us down.
“So, where did you find this stray,” Donald asked. “Isn’t he a little too cute for you, Jim?” It looked like he was giving Charlie an appraisal to assess his worth.
“Watch it, Don,” fully joking but I didn’t need Charlie to think he wasn't good enough. He already had too much doubt in his life that I am trying to readjust. I told them where we met which got about the same reaction to Stewie upstairs but not as dramatic. I guess two men in a mine wouldn’t have crossed anyone’s mind with how most men were in that environment.
Other than saying hi to everyone, Charlie had been quiet, taking in the atmosphere and the people in it. His eyes have been constantly shifting while also not being rude to my friends, landing on two men in the corner fully macking on each other.
When he turned to me in surprise, I said, “You’re safe here. We can be ourselves. We don’t have to hide here. Stewie created this place for people like us to come and live like we should be able to, even if for a little while.”
“This might sound like a foolish question, because I understand the ignorance of not being able to be ourselves out in the open,” Charlie asked, looking back in the direction of the stairs, “but why did Stewie hide this place?”
“You mean the secret door?” Charlie nodded in response, understanding why he thought it might be an overreaction. “Because this place is illegal as well as simply being ourselves or ourdeviantrelationships.”
Donald added, “To keep us safe, it’s an unspoken rule that to bring someone here, you have to vet them, make sure they are one of us or someone that is one-hundred percent supportive. Stewie miraculously created this space three years ago, using the design and building process of the hotel as a cover to build this space as well.”
I kissed Charlie’s cheek, rubbing my nose where my lips pressed. It made him tilt his head in my direction.
“I truly never thought I’d see the day,” Jacob said. “You. Of all people. Finding someone.” He shook his head. “So, what’s your story, Charlie?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charlie take a gulp of his beer, delaying any answer, but only coming back with a question. “My story?”
“Everyone has a story,” Jacob swept his arm around, including the other patrons. “Our experiences may be similar, but our journey over the rainbow is never the same.” He looked back at Charlie. “For instance, my parents caught me with a boy when I was seventeen. They kicked me out with only three months left of my schooling and I became the outcast of the small town of Beaver Falls. I took what I could and left. I found my way here eventually. It took me about a year of living on the streets, working here and there.”
“That’s horrible,” Charlie was exasperated.
I looked at him and said, “That’s the‘similar’detail most of us share. It is just the trajectory of the before and after that makes our stories unique. Like mine, remember? My family and a couple of close friends knew, but it wasn’t until they saw with their eyes that they had a reaction. Delayed as it may have been. True colors always show eventually. So, we takethose colors and turn them into something positive for ourselves. This community.”
Charlie just nodded his head, understanding. While Elvis was playing in the background, Charlie took a pull of his beer before saying, “My father and I were run out of town.”
twenty-six
Friends Of Dorothy
Charlie
