Page 27 of A Straight Line

I laughed. “He really doesn’t. He’s just putting on a show. He loves all of his queer community. He just has a funny way of showing it.”

“Thank goodness,” Sheila chuckled. “We’re really excited to see Bang Bang perform tonight. We saw her a few weeks ago at A Straight Line, and—is she here yet?”

“I haven’t seen her.” I shrugged.

“I was telling Sheila and Joanie earlier how Bang Bang is the one that started the school supplies drive years and years ago. The Drag Queen Reading Hour at the library. The food pantry over at Gentry’s. Bang Bang has altruism running out of every orifice.”

Sheila and I both turned up our noses comically. Floyd grinned.

“She’s done a lot for the community,” I said. “Queer or otherwise. I’ve been around for a while, but even I don’t know all she’s done.”

“Even when she had nothing, she made sure the people of this community were taken care of, Russ,” Floyd said with a firm nod. “Granted, not everyone was happy about it at first.”

“What do you mean?” Sheila asked.

“Well, for example, the school supplies drive?” Floyd said. “A lot of the more puritanical parents in this town accused Bang Bang of having ulterior motives for helping the children. As though Bang Bang was trying to align the queens with little children to groom them or something. Turns my stomach to remember it. But Bang Bang still took school supply donations, went door to door asking for money, posted flyers…by the beginning of the school year, every kid in this town starting school had the best. And it’s been that way ever since. Now, it’s gotten easier over the years, now that people are all friendly with Bang Bang and admire her philanthropy, but it wasn’t so way back when she started. Even some of the queers in this community told her to give it up.”

Floyd raised his voice in admonishment of some of the people around us, and to remind them we all should be more altruistic.

“Bang Bang just did what Bang Bang does,” Floyd said. “She wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. And that’s why Littleburg has one of the lowest drop-out rates, one of the highest percentages of kids who go off to trade school or college, no one goes hungry, and you’d be hard-pressed to find a single person who can’t read. Drag Queen Reading Hour at the library wasn’t just for little kids. Bang Bang would stay and help older people in the community learn as well. They were cautious of her at first, but once they realized how dedicated she was to making sure they could read and live their lives with less struggles and more accessibility, they all fell in love with her. She’s also why the non-queers and queers of this town get along so well. She’s been one hell of an ambassador over the years.”

“I can’t wait to be formally introduced.” Sheila was in awe.

“Well,” Floyd said slyly, “the Bang Bang you meet, and the Bang Bang who does charity work are two different people. She’s…standoffish?”

That’s not the Bang Bang I know, I thought to myself.

“She doesn’t like people to fuss,” Floyd said.

“Even so,” Sheila said, “I can’t wait.”

I had busied myself, stuffing my mouth full of a slider. One, I was getting hungrier by the second, listening patiently to Floyd, and two, I wanted my mouth full so I couldn’t correct him about Bang Bang’s demeanor. If she was “standoffish” to anyone, it was probably because she didn’t want everyone begging her for something all of the time. Besides, she was kind of a regional celebrity. Even queens need their privacy from time to time.

While Frank prattled on about Bang Bang, the community in general, how lovely the party was going, and other such things, the sun fully set around us, leaving us all bathed in the twinkling glow of the lights strung around the yard. I also managed to scarf down a few helpings of potato salad, eat a serving of fries, and inhale a few spring rolls. My tummy thanked me.

Bird was playing a slow song as Frank and Joanie finally drifted away, obviously to find their partners for a dance or to make conversation with someone more inclined to participate in said conversation. As I stood there, realizing that I’d been left alone in the gazebo, an empty plate in my hands, Power of Two by Indigo Girls played in the background. The party had swelled to at least a hundred, maybe a hundred-and-fifty, people, and while not everyone was slow dancing with their partner of choice, the dance floor had spilled past the Bluestone patio and out onto the lawn.

Most of the elders were still in their semi-circle of chairs, adoringly watching the other queers dancing happily. Vic and Harry were nowhere in sight, so I assumed that meant they were somewhere amongst the throngs of people dancing away to the lesbian anthem. That was kind of out of character for Harry, dancing to a slow song and all, but it was possible Vic might have convinced him to join him on the dance floor. Watching all of the people in our community enjoying the lovely evening—and the perfectly executed party thrown by my uncles and Kristal—I should have been thrilled. I just felt…empty.

Looking over the crowd of people, how surrounded by members of the community who loved and supported my uncles and their bar—and were sad to see them retiring—was nice. It was more than nice. But it just made me remember how alone I was in the world. The people on the dance floor were holding each other gently or gripping each other tightly, their bodies pressed closely together. It had been months since I’d had someone hold me…at all. I didn’t have a partner like my uncles, or Bethany, or any number of the other people who had come to the party. I was just a chronically gloomy, socially awkward gay man who would probably end up all alone for life.

Nothing like a party to flip a guy’s mood.

“Hey,” I jumped when Denny popped up at my side in the gazebo.

“Jesus!” I gasped, but laughed once I realized that I was in no immediate danger.

“Sorry,” He said, leaning closer towards me. “You just looked like you were lonely over here. Full, but lonely.”

“Uh, yeah.” I agreed. “Definitely full.”

“What are you doing up here all alone?”

I had to stop myself from telling Denny that I was alone. I didn’t have a special someone to forcefully drag me out onto the dance floor. But then he’d insist on dancing with me, and I wasn’t so sure I wanted to dance with Denny.

“Floyd was telling Sheila and me about Bang Bang and his many philanthropic endeavors over the years,” I said. “I was stuffing my face…and I guess everyone wandered off to dance in the meantime. So, here I am.”

“Bang Bang is pretty beloved, right?”