I was pleasantly surprised by the entertainment as we explored the building. For such a casual title, the "jam session" had been organized by music genre and each room was in full swing. There was evidence that food had once filled a banquet table near the entrance, but that had been fully picked over by the time of our arrival. The crowd seemed to be thinning out; families headed home and younger couples warmed up. There was a looseness in people’s bodies that spoke of alcohol flowing, though I didn't see any outright. It wasn't until we reached the biggest room, what Suzie called the main stage, that I realized how many glances we were getting.
Whispers of “Who is that?” and “Damn, they aren’t from around here…” followed us as we made our way to the center of the dance floor.
Suzie pulled me along until she bumped into a group of girls her age, maybe older. Dressed in cowboy boots and plaid shirts, they could have been copy/pastes of the same person.
The one in the front scanned Suzie up and down. “Little overdressed,” she said to her friends, obviously wanting to be overheard.
Suzie squeezed my hand tighter, her long gown swishing along a dirty and scratched wood floor.
“Wait, isn’t that that crazy stripper Jethro dumped forever ago?”
“How pathetic.”
“Right? How can she show her face after he got engaged to Sienna? Trying to use a fancy dress to hide her loss.”
“Desperate much?”
Mean girls were symptomatic of most patriarchal cultures. Their appearance had always boggled me, as women had enough odds stacked against them. You’d think they’d band together rather than tear each other down. But then again, I’m sure the roots were based so deep in our patriarchal society, that it sought to do exactly that—keep them fighting. That might make interesting research actually—
“Come on, Ford. Don’t worry about them. Let’s just dance.” Her voice was tight with tension.
I had stopped walking when I heard them talking about her. It occurred to me, embarrassingly belatedly, that Suzie was hurt by those words. I assumed Suzie to be impervious to the thoughts of small minds because of how she always stood her ground to me. And I was on the more difficult side of the scale. However, it made sense—as Green Valley was where she hailed from—that she’d be more sensitive. Roots settled deep and were hard to break.
“You realize we can hear you speaking, right?” I addressed the question at the clear leader of the four women.
“Ford. Don’t worry about it.” Suzie tugged on me but I remained unmoved.
“Sorry,” the leader said without sincerity. “I was talking to my friends.”
“I don’t think you were. It seems as though you wanted her to hear.”
The other girls started to look uncomfortable, but of course, the leader had to prove herself to keep her pride intact.
“She’s the one that came here.” Her face twisted with mock pity. “You know this is a family event. We can’t have the likes of her here.”
“Meaning?”
She stage whispered with a cupped hand. “Strippers.” Her face scrunched up in a way that told me she practiced it in a mirror to make sure it was cute enough. “Sorry, but she should probably go.”
“Does it make you feel better?”
“Her leaving?” She blinked. “Sort of. I mean the Reverend is here.” She tilted her head to look me up and down. “Look, you seem like a nice guy. You should know that she has a nasty past. Done some unclean things.”
“Ford.” Suzie tugged harder.
I ignored her and kept my face neutral even though I seethed on the inside. “You misunderstand my meaning. Does trying to put her down make you feel better about your own life? Are you bored with your life or feel like you don’t have sufficient accomplishments? Are you that miserable you feel compelled to make others feel bad? Or are you just mean-spirited?”
She opened her mouth but didn’t speak.
“Because I’ve spent plenty of time with this woman. I’ve seen her help people who don’t deserve it. I’ve seen her try to better herself. I’ve seen her take care of people who don’t deserve it. Not once have I heard her say mean things to someone just to hurt them.”
The mean girl’s face paled. Her posse mumbled excuses and began to scoot away from her.
“People are not their occupations or their pasts. They’re a culmination of a thousand different things and worthy of respect until they’ve lost it. You have lost my respect based on your actions. Suzie, the stripper you seem to look down on, has nothing but esteem in my eyes. To me, that tells me you should think about your life and your actions.”
“Ford. It’s okay.” Suzie was pulling me but she was laughing now. Not a “that’s funny” laugh; more like, “oh man, you’re crazy.” But either way, I would take it, because her laugh was as soothing as a creek rolling over pebbles.
We were several steps away when Suzie stopped, straightened her shoulders and looked to the main girl who stood dumbfounded.
