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“Oh yeah,” Izzy says. “Drag story hour is a thing. She’s done it before.”
How kind of Izzy to seek me out and offer ways to improve the library with no reason to do so, apart from wanting to help me.
I had hoped this was something I would get from Councilman Grady, the new city councilman who oversees this ward and has repeatedly denied my budget requests. Or, if not ideas on how to improve the facility, then an interest in the ideas I provide.
But no, it is clear he sees the library as a mere drain on government resources, even when he refuses to use funds to repair parts of the building that are falling apart. I invited him to trivia night, but unsurprisingly, he did not show his face. I’m not sure he even lives in the ward he is charged with managing.
“Thank you, Izzy. I shall see if Uma is interested.”
Uma eventually takes a break from singing to have a drink at the bar, and I take that as an opportunity to discuss story hour with her.
“Hel-lo there,” she says, her eyes drifting over my attire. She glances at Izzy, filling her glass with ice cubes and dark liquor. “Is this the Viscount of Sudbury?”
Izzy laughs. “That’s actually our head librarian. Uma, meet Mylo. Mylo, Uma.”
Uma extends her hand in a way that indicates I should kiss it, and I do, with a bow. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Uma Sinner.”
She laughs heartily at my excessive chivalry and pats the stool next to her. “Take a seat, gorgeous. What can I do for you?”
I explain my idea, Izzy’s idea, rather, and tell her about the group of ten or so children that frequent my weekly story time. “They are wonderful kids, and I want to make sure they remain excited about reading. It seems far too easy for students to fall out of love with books the older they get and the more material they are forced to read.”
“Oof, so true. I still detestRomeo and Julietbecause of how many essays I had to write about it in school,” she tells me before throwing back her drink in one large sip. “I mean, killing yourself over one man. It doesn’t get any dumber than that. And Juliet was a total smoke show. She could’ve had at least three new boyfriends if she waited a day.”
“Precisely,” I say with a laugh. “Would you consider coming to read to the kids? I know your time is in great demand, but anytime you are free, the Sudbury Library is available to you.”
“Sure thing, honey,” she says. “I’ll give you a discount, too, since you’re a friend of Izzy’s.”
Even if I were to use the measly sum provided annually by city council for special events, it would not cover Uma’s discounted rate. But this is important, and I know the kids will love it.
“Fund the library yourself,”Kyan suggested.
As much as I hate when he is right, I’m about to do just that.
“Splendid,” I tell Uma.
We are in the middle of discussing potential dates and times when the music stops, and a hush falls over the crowd.
“Fucking hell,” I hear Izzy grumble, stomping toward the other end of the bar near the entrance.
Standing there, I see Officer Burton with four other officers gathered behind him. Izzy approaches them and has what looks to be a heated exchange with Officer Burton. Eventually, Izzy’s expression goes from murderous to resigned, taking a slip of paper from Officer Burton. The officers leave immediately after that.
Izzy takes the stage, paper in hand, and grabs the mic. “Okay, guys. So, we’ve received a noise complaint.” The crowd boos and hisses. Izzy’s eyes roll in agreement. “Yeah, I know. Considering the closest building houses a dentist’s office that is currently closed, I think we all know what this is about.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Uma groans. “Different circus, same clownery.”
The crowd offers their own exasperated agreement. None of which I understand.
“For the rest of the night, we’ll switch back to one of our beloved playlists here at Tipsy’s, but let’s give the almighty Uma Sinner a round of applause for her amazing performance tonight.”
Uma stands and bows several times as the crowd continues clapping. Cheers and whistles also accompany the applause. Uma and I exchange numbers before she leaves and despite the return of the music, the mood inside the bar has soured.
People begin to leave, and our group follows suit. Samantha gives Izzy a hug, and I have Axil explain to me what he has seen in the news recently about prejudice against drag queens as we walk outside. The conversation leaves me with more questions than answers, but that is to be expected, considering how prejudice is rarely rooted in logic.
“I shall walk you home,” I whisper to Samantha when the rest of the group is ahead of us.
“No,” she replies quickly. “That’s okay. My house is closer than yours. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you guys coming?” Vanessa hollers from several feet in front of us.
