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I used Donna’s lyrics to lecture the audience then Burgundy and I got nose-to-nose screaming at each other, shaking our hair in tandem with the angry words, and the crowd began chanting the chorus.
It was Barbra’s song. Donna was only dessert, so I worked the crowd, leaning double at the waist, my hand at my hip, and got in the faces of the people who dared to approach me with dollar bills, snatching notes out of their hands like the tip was my God-given right. I scrunched up my face with mock pissed-offedness and didn’t give a single kiss. I even went so far as placing the sole of my sandal into a butch biker’s chest and sending him careening backwards giggling himself silly.
The crowd ate it up, shouting, cheering and sending up deafening whistles and catcalls.
It was beautiful and the biggest fucking happy rush I’d had in my life.
It was when the disco slowed to the funky bit that was a wind up to when Barbra gets so pissed off her voice goes husky that I saw Pepper Rick standing across the room, pointing a gun at me.
I froze.
Then, without my brain telling my body to do it, I whirled and threw myself in a body tackle, bringing Burgundy down. Both of our tip money and microphones flew out of our hands and Burgundy shouted a very male, “What the fuck?”
The crowd began to cheer, thinking it was part of the show, but the cheer turned to screams and shouts when gunfire rang out.
“Crawl,” I hissed to Tod. “Stay low and crawl the fuck out of here.”
We almost started to crawl as more gunfire rang through the bar, then I jumped back on Tod, covering him with my body. Once the sound of the guns cleared, I could hear Dad and Malcolm shouting orders to people trying to keep calm and stop a stampede.
We started crawling again. All I could see was Tod’s sequined ass. I heard heavy footfalls on the stage, and all of a sudden I was lifted up. I let out a half-enraged, half-startled scream and tried to twist away, but I no sooner got a look at who had me when I was thrown, like a human discus, off the stage.
I flew through the air and hit Lee with a grunt, both his and mine, and his arms came around me as he staggered back a step to brace himself. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Tex, who had made it to the stage (and me) before Lee. Tex executed the stage dive to end all stage dives, his bulky weight toppling the unfortunate and unprepared people who’d been in his way.
I didn’t get a chance to process this because Lee lifted me up by the waist and carried me to the door, moving anyone out of our way by either shoving them, punching them or just plain old body slamming them with his shoulder.
I saw Hank in front of us with Ally in a similar hold just as Malcolm pushed Kitty Sue out the door.
Lee dragged me to Ally’s car, a newish, convertible Ford Mustang. Hank was shoving Ally in the driver’s seat. Lee shoved me in the passenger side.
“Indy!” Dad shouted from somewhere.
“Here. Safe,” Lee shouted back.
My eyes found Dad and I noticed he lifted his index finger and snapped it smartly at Lee in a “you the man” gesture. He got in with Malcolm and Kitty Sue as Lee started talking to me.
“Stay here, lock your doors, stay down and out of sight.”
I turned to him. “Tod, Stevie, Tex. Ohmigod, Andrea’s a mother!”
But he wasn’t listening. He slammed the door and ran back to BJ’s.
“And now you,” I whispered, watching him go.
Ally’s hand took mine.
“He’ll be okay,” she said. “You know, you wouldn’t even want a man who wouldn’t go back to save someone’s mother and a drag queen.”
This was true.
Her hand went from mine to my neck and forced me down, and my torso explored the limits of the seatbelt Lee buckled on me.
“I’ll tell you what’s happening,” she offered.
I bent forward as far as I could to hide myself. I heard the locks go on the doors and she started the car in preparation just in case we needed a fast getaway. I listened as Ally counted off Duke and Dolores, who roared off on their hog. Marianne came out with Hank, who took her directly to her car. Andrea came out with Lee, trailed by Andrea’s husband. Lee made sure they were in their mini-van before he went back in. Tex raged out on his own power, but this included from Ally an, “Uh-oh, I think he’s bleeding again.” I nearly shot up, but she kept me down with a hand at my neck.
The locks went. I was pressed further forward as the back of my seat was tilted. The seatbelt strained to its limits and cut into my chest, and Tex threw himself in back.
“Holy fuck, pandemonium at the gay bar!” he yelled.
