After Petronella walked away, Amy looked down at her feet.  She raised a shoe.  There was toilet paper stuck to her heel.  She tried to step it off with her other shoe.  It got caught on that shoe.  She tried to kick it off.  Finally after several electric slide dance moves, Amy succeeded in ridding herself of both the toilet paper and her dignity.

Edison lifted the edge of the tablecloth and looked down at Jordan.  "You can come out now."

Jordan shook her head.  "Huh uh.  It could be a trick.  Go follow Petronella and make sure she got in her car and drove away."

Edison nodded.  "Good idea."

"And make sure she isn't just driving around the block either."

Just as Edison was about to walk away, Amy's feet appeared.  “Where’s Jordan?”

“She’s under the table.  I’ll be right back,” Edison said.

Amy squatted down and looked at Jordan under the table.  "Are you hiding?"

Jordan fake-laughed.  "Hiding?  Me hiding?  Don't be ridiculous."

"Then what are you doing under the table?"

About a billion answers to that question flitted through Jordan's mind:  She was looking for a lost contact.  Retrieving a dropped fork.  Checking the cleanliness of the floor.  Looking for gum under the table.  Doing a study on the shoes of people in Portland cafes.  Jordan reached into her grab bag of answers and pulled one out at random, and it just so happened to be partly true.  "I was, uh, scared."

Amy's face softened.  She crawled on all fours under the table and sat next to Jordan.  "What are you scared of?"

Jordan said in a tiny voice, "I'm scared you don't know this a date. You know a date-date.  With me."

"I know it's a date-date," Amy said.

"Really?"

Amy nodded.

Jordan asked, "And you're not weirded out or anything? You know, being on a date-date with a real live lesbian?"

Amy shrugged.  "I'd be more weirded out if you weren't real or alive."

Jordan smiled.  "How do you think it's going so far?  For a first date, I mean."

"I think…"Amy said, "I think I want you to kiss me."

Jordan held her breath, closed her eyes and leaned in to kiss her.  Her lips were only a fraction from Amy's when a waitress holding a basket of sandwich, chips and pickles in each hand, peeked under the table.  "Who had the extra mayo?"

Kissi interruptus.


Edison’s Story

 

Edison drove her VW Bug two times over the posted speed limit and careened around a corner.  Jordan gripped the strap and pumped her foot against an imaginary brake pedal.  Jordan ascertained that Edison was upset about the whole Amy thing and it was sending her over the deep end.  Edison didn’t want Jordan getting hurt.  Jordan knew that. Although her affair with Edison had been brief, a matter of hours really, Jordan knew Edison was infatuated with her.  Jordan sensed that Edison found unrequited love blissfully painful.  However, it was easier to tolerate when Jordan was not dating.  Even when Edison was suffering through Jordan’s relationship with Petronella it was easier because she knew that Jordan didn’t love Petronella, but this Amy thing was different and Jordan knew that Edison knew that.

“You know, I’m really sorry that your lunch date with Amy didn’t work out,” Edison said.  Before Jordan could answer, she went on, “I had an unrequited love once, too.”

That was news to Jordan.  Edison had never talked about her past before.  Even when Jordan tried to draw her out, Edison would clam up like a… well, like a clam.

“I pined after the minister’s daughter,” Edison said, wheeling the car around a sharp curve.

“Ooooh, this sounds like Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit.”

“Except it was the Amish version,” Edison said.  She stared straight ahead.  “I grew up Amish.”

“Amish?” Jordan hit her head on the roof of the Bug.  “As in bonnets and long dresses and no cell phones Amish?”

“Is there another kind?”

“Amish?  You’re Amish. Seriously?”  Jordan was on the verge of laughing until she saw the pain etched across Edison’s face.

Edison covered her face with her hands.  “I shouldn’t have told you.”

“I wish you wouldn’t do that while you’re driving,” Jordan said, reaching over and grabbing the wheel.  Maybe that’s why Edison is such a horrible driver, Jordan thought.  Driving a buggy must be a lot different from driving a car.  “I didn’t even know Portland had Amish communities,” she said.

Edison took the wheel and miraculously even slowed down.  “I’m not from here.  I lived in Ohio.  I came here after I was shunned.”

“You were shunned?  Like thrown out?”

“Yes.”

Jordan was beginning to feel like Detective Joe Friday in Dragnet – she’d loved that show when she was growing up. (Of course, she had been watching ancient reruns not the originals.)  Plumbing Edison was a “just the facts” kind of interview Joe Friday liked; only Jordan wanted the story and a lot more than just the facts.  “Why were you shunned?”

“I was raised in Holmes County, Ohio.  We were Swartzentruber, but mother insisted we have a flower garden and a paved driveway so we were already living dangerously on the edge.”

Jordan was already lost.  “What’s Swartzentruber?”

“It’s like the super-Amish.  They think other Amish people are not strict enough.  My people don’t have running water or electricity.  They take the buggy thing seriously.  We couldn’t even have one of those reflective triangles on the back of the buggy.  Do you know how unsafe that it?  We couldn’t use anything reflective.”

“What?  You’re being serious here?” Jordan honestly thought Edison was fucking with her and she’d burst out laughing saying something like “I really had you going,” only that part of the script didn’t appear to be showing up.

“Yes.  It was the reflective triangle and the sidelong glances between Melly and me that got me shunned.  Melly was the preacher’s daughter,” Edison said.

“One question,” Jordan said.  “Did kids make fun of her and call her Smelly Melly?”

“That’s not funny.  I’m being serious.”

Jordan studied Edison.  She did look serious.  “Okay, sorry,” Jordan said.  “Please continue.  The triangle was like a symbol of your love or something?”

“No.  Even then I was known for my inventions.  Being Amish and having limited contact with the outside world, I didn’t know about modern technology.  I didn’t know about most ancient technology either.  I used to spend my nights in secret in the barn, inventing things.”

“What kind of things?”

“Oh, you know, the Chop-o-matic, Wart Remover, The Clap On-Clap Off, which was much harder to make with oil lanterns than its electrical cousin.”

“I bet,” Jordan muttered.

“I had no idea those things already existed.  Anyway, I had noticed a need for a reflective paint.  There had been too many buggy accidents.  You can’t see a black buggy on a dirt road at night, you know.  One night, Melly and her mother were out helping one of the sick people and they got rear ended by a teenage couple who were out for a drive in their car.  Actually, I think the girl was giving her boyfriend a blowjob while he drove.  They smashed into Melly’s buggy.  They weren’t going very fast – probably because of the blowjob – and well they crashed and she bit his penis off.”

Jordan’s mouth gaped open.  “Like in The World According to Garp kind of bit off?”

Edison nodded. “The townspeople got a little uptight about it.  The loss of the penis proved to be the proverbial straw and things got ugly.”

That was when Jordan realized that the loss of the boy’s penis and Edison’s predilection for inventing fake penii might have an emotional connection.  “Then what happened?”

“I tried to fix things. I experimented with fluorescents.”

Jordan thought Edison said that in the same way most people say, “I experimented with drugs.”  Jordan pulled the rubber ball out of her pocket and squeezed it.  She was now using it as a stress ball.  “I’m getting lost.  What do fluorescents have to do with Melly?”

Edison flattened out her lips and furrowed her brow.  “Let me tell the story in chronological order.  I was eighteen and I kissed Melly in the barn.  We professed our love.  The accident happened.  I snuck into the hardware store and stole coated phosphorescent pigment and a gallon of green paint.  It’s the only thing I’ve ever stolen.  With Melly’s help I painted all the backs of the buggies so they would glow in the dark.  This appeased the townspeople.  They thought the Swartzentrubers had caved.  I hadn’t counted on that.  I just wanted everyone to be safe.  I could’ve lost Melly in that accident.  Word got out and that was the end of everything.  The elders found out who’d done it and I was finished.  I claimed full responsibility but Melly got in trouble too.  She was only seventeen so she couldn’t go with me.  Her parents sent her to live with relatives in Pennsylvania.  I never saw her again.”  Edison wiped a tear.  “I hitch-hiked here.”

“Wow,” Jordan said, shaking her head.

“Don’t tell anybody, okay?”

“Okay.  Your secret’s safe with me.”

"Anyway, I'm sorry your lunch date didn't work out," Edison said.  "The whole dating game is overrated.  Don't feel bad about it.  Lots of people are dating-challenged.  You're just one of those people.  Me too.  That's why we have each other.  As friends – I know what you're thinking – as friends.  I totally agree with your assessment on that matter.  But if you ask me, and I know you're not, but if you did ask me, I'd say that today's dating disaster was worth it.  Now you know that you and Amy aren't compatible.  You got it out of your system.  You're free to move on."

"Actually," Jordan said, "we have another date tomorrow."

Edison punched the gas and swerved the car around another corner.  Jordan hung on for dear life.


Lesbians in the Mist

Amy was nervous.  Everything in her mind told her not to go.  However, everything in her body said, “Go! Go!”  She was stuck somewhere in between, vacillating between bliss and fear.  The middle ground was nerves.  That’s where she was now.  After the almost-kiss yesterday under the table, Jordan had asked her to go to the art museum with her. Amy’s mouth had said yes without even consulting her brain.

Her brain had kept her up most of the night, dredging up excuse after excuse after excuse as to why she should not go on a date, technically a second date, with a gorgeous, sexy lesbian.  Here were the reasons in no particular order:

Dating a lesbian would mean she was a lesbian and if she was a lesbian then…

She couldn’t wear her cute shoes anymore.

She would have to get her hair cut short and that meant it would curl into its natural Afro state.  Not her best look.

She would have to carry her lipstick in her pocket because lesbians don't carry purses.

They also don't wear lipstick, so nix on the last reason.

She would have to learn to cook so she could attend lesbian potlucks.

She would have to learn to like hummus.  And learn how to pronounce it.

She would have to get a cat.

Then, in an act of fairness, her brain came up with reasons to become a lesbian.  Here were the reasons in no particular order:

She would save a lot of money by not buying…

Pantyhose

Dresses

Make-up

Curlers

Razors  (She was uncertain whether lesbians shaved their legs and under their arms.  She hoped so.)

She could share a wardrobe with Jordan.

Amy knew she was being a little silly.  Not all lesbians were exactly alike.  She had seen a couple of episodes of The L Word.  She was pretty sure her career wouldn't suffer and her mother – her father was long gone – would eventually warm to the idea.  Still… it was a pretty big step.  Especially for someone as clumsy in bed as she was.  See prior banana peel story.  However, Jordan had woken up certain parts of her body that had been hibernating for the past ten years.  And like a bear crawling out of her cave after a long winter's nap, Amy was ravenous.

She wished somebody would write a guidebook.  Lesbianism for Dummies.  It would make things a whole lot easier.  Or maybe she should infiltrate the periphery of lesbians.  Study their culture, their mating habits, their sense of humor (assuming they had one), their sense of style (assuming they had that also).  She could acquaint and acclimate herself to lesbians after careful study.  She could be the Diane Fossey of Lesbians.

Early in the a.m. hours after zilch sleep, Amy decided to quit thinking with her brain.  She made a pledge with herself to leave her brain out of the equation and let her heart and body do all the thinking.