Rainbow Road (12 page)

“But won’t it hurt, to peel that off later?”

“That’s why you shaved, hon.”

“Do I have to?” Nelson hesitated. “Okay, let’s just do it!” He shut his eyes, then opened them as BJ showed him how to strap himself down. It realy wasn’t
that
bad, except when he moved … or laughed … or breathed.

For Nelson’s Britney outfit, BJ suggested a tight black miniskirt, with a huge black belt, boots, and a slinky black crossover blouse, cut high above the midriff. But in spite of the mock boobs, his body didn’t look quite as shapely as Britney’s.

“I think I need a birdseed butt.”

Last came the blond Britney wig.

“Close your eyes,” BJ told him as she adjusted the wig on his head. She stood close and he breathed in her clean, perfumed smel.

“Okay, Miss Butterfly,” she said softly, her breath tickling his ear. “Spread your wings and soar.” Nelson opened his eyes. At first the girl in the mirror startled him. Then she mesmerized him. It was hard to believe she was him. He slowly raised a hand and the image folowed. He realy was her … if he’d been born female.

He glanced at BJ’s reflection as she came to stand beside him. And suddenly Nelson understood how displaced BJ must feel trapped in the wrong body, unable to peel off the male masquerade nature had mistakenly given her.

“Okay, now.” BJ folded Nelson’s long blond hair over his shoulders. “A few quick lessons on being a girl. First, don’t stroke your hair away with your hand.

Instead, flick it with the back of your fingertips. Like this!” She showed him.

“Second, when you sit down …” She moved to the chair. “Brush your skirt from behind to make sure it comes forward. I like to sit diagonal, crossing my legs at the ankle. Of course, never
ever
sit with your legs apart. Let’s see you do it.”

“Great! Next, for the walk. If you notice, guys walk from the legs. Girls walk from the hips. Stand up straight, look up and forward, smiling, relaxed, and confident.

Say to yourself : ‘I’m a girl, getting the attention she deserves,’”

The walk took a little work, but with BJ’s coaching, Nelson finaly got it.

“Ready to show the boys?” BJ asked.

Nelson swalowed, took a breath, and nodded. BJ turned the doorknob and Nelson stepped out.

The events that folowed that evening unfolded as though Nelson were watching himself move through a dream.

Jason stared at him, mouth agape, then gazed at him, with a gentle, sheepish smile such as Nelson had never before experienced from him. Meanwhile, Kyle laughed and kept repeating: “This is wicked freaky.”

The Saint Charles streetcar whisked them like a carriage past stately oaks and balconies ribboned with Mardi Gras beads.

Once in the French Quarter, they jaunted by topless strip clubs and restaurants with petticoated Southern beles, past drunken colege frat boys, spiling their super-size cups of beer, and around street musicians dancing with trombones.

Their destination, the Rendezvous Bar, was Nelson’s first gay club ever. The wals pulsed with music and the floor was thronged with men—white, black, old, young, bald, tal, paunchy, skinny, in jeans, leather, sports coats. And everywhere, there were beads.

Kyle puled Nelson by the hand, as they rose with a cloud of smoke upstairs, past a sign reading BATTLE OF THE BRITNEYS to a room packed with Britney blondes everywhere—black Britneys, old Britneys, Asian Britneys, plump Britneys…. The crowd cheered as onstage a wheelchair Britney crooned “Toxic.” And then somehow Nelson was being passed arm by arm up to lights shining in his eyes. Voices cheered as he lip-synched “Boys” and danced the steps he’d watched a gazilion times on MTV, and he looked down to see Jason clapping for him.

Nelson felt like a star: beautiful, applauded. He wished he could stay on that stage forever. But he came down and Kyle hugged him. Strangers told him, “You’re a fabulous Britney.” And a muscled guy in a tight tank top marked STUD whispered, “I wish I was as brave as you.” Then it was BJ on stage, lip-synching “Slave 4 U,” except you could’ve sworn it realy was Britney singing. She won first prize, and Nelson thought,
She’s a girl,
getting the attention she deserves
.

Then they were walking down the street, trying to wave down a taxi, past a drunk yodeling to a lamppost.

“I’m cold!” BJ gave herself a hug and asked Kyle, “Can I borrow him a minute?”

She draped Jason’s arm around her waist, teling him, “Someday I’m going to find myself a tal sweet muscley guy just like you, Jason.” And Kyle smiled, though it looked a little forced.

Al the way home Nelson thought how much fun it had been to be a girl—at least for a little while.

Then he was sitting in front of the mirror, wiping his face with cold cream as he returned to being a boy.

“Yeow!” he screamed, as he tore off his tuck tape. “I’ve got to pee so bad! How do you do this al the time?”

“One day I won’t have to,” BJ said hopefuly, gazing down at her own freed masculinity.

And soon they were asleep, breathing softly, side by side.

Arriving back at the New Orleans house, Kyle had quickly undressed and climbed into the foldout couch, exhausted and eager to sleep. But once beneath the sheets, he lay wide awake in the dark beside Jason, his mind replaying the day’s wild ride of events: picking up a Britney wannabe at a backwoods gas station, finding out she was a he, seeing his best friend shape-shifted into a girl, going to his first gay bar ever, and watching as his boyfriend put his arm around BJ’s waist.

Kyle had been able to deal with everything except that last item.

He now snaked his own arm across Jason’s chest, trying to reassure himself that Jason’s action with BJ hadn’t realy meant anything. Kyle felt sily for his jealousy, except he knew Jason had been attracted to girls and had a special weakness for blondes. Didn’t that make BJ the best of al worlds—boy, girl, and blonde?

“You stil awake?” Kyle whispered, unable to contain his thoughts any longer.

“Just thinking,” Jason replied from the pilow beside him. “About everything that happened today.”

“Me too.” Kyle stroked his fingers along Jason’s arm, working up his courage. “Can I ask you something? Do you, um … are you attracted to BJ?” While he nervously waited for Jason’s response, his fingertips brushed the soft hairs of Jason’s arm. Would Jason be honest? What if he said he
was
attracted to BJ?

Jason yawned and the couch springs squeaked noisily beneath him. “She’s cute. It’s freaky how much she looks like Britney.” Across the darkness Kyle eyed Jason guardedly. He hadn’t exactly answered Kyle’s question. “So are you attracted to her?” Jason remained silent, then turned onto his side to face Kyle, as the couch squeaked again. “You’re nutty.” Kyle propped his head up to explain. “Wel, I mean, you used to like girls, right? And she’s both a boy and a girl.”

“Yeah …” Jason said, as if pondering. “But I think it would be too freaky, too confusing. This whole day was bizarre enough.” The response helped reassure Kyle. He wrapped his arm tighter across Jason’s chest, listening as Jason continued.

“I kind of feel sorry for her, you know? Can you imagine growing up with the wrong body parts? It’s hard enough with the right body parts.” Was Jason becoming more understanding—or at least less freaked out—than he’d been at the sanctuary? Maybe he hadn’t felt as overwhelmed by one teen tranny as he’d been by the throng of older gender-bender Faeries. Or maybe he realy was becoming more accepting.

In any case, Kyle rested easier now. He leaned across the pilow, kissing Jason tenderly on the lips. Jason kissed him back and slid a hand beneath the elastic of Kyle’s underwear.

“Hey,” Kyle whispered nervously. “What if someone walks in?”

“Everyone’s asleep,” Jason whispered back, pressing against Kyle.

“They won’t be for long.” Kyle giggled as the couch squeaked and creaked beneath them.

“Crap,” Jason muttered. “Let’s get on the floor.”

Kyle thought surely Jason was joking, but Jason puled him by the hand as the couch squealed louder than ever.

The two boys crawled off the mattress and lay on the hard floor, softened only by a rug. The circumstances weren’t the greatest, but after three nights spent lying beside Jason in unrequited anguish, Kyle wasn’t about to complain.

The next morning sunshine sliced through the window shutters as Kyle woke. To his amazement, Nelson’s voice carried from the kitchen, chattering and laughing with BJ and her friends. Had Nelson actualy gotten up before Kyle and Jason?

On the couch beside Kyle, Jason lay snoring softly. Kyle gazed at him, recaling their rug romance of several hours earlier. And he couldn’t stop grinning, even when he walked into the kitchen for breakfast.

After beignets and coffee came good-byes. Nelson gave BJ an Elvis key chain he’d bought at Graceland and BJ’s eyes teared up. She gave Nelson, Jason, and Kyle each a hug. And to Kyle it no longer seemed the least bit odd that she was realy biologicaly male. She was their friend; that was al that mattered.

Kyle guided them onto I-10 and Jason drove down the elevated highway over the bayou.

“You two sure are smiley today.” Nelson gave them a devilish grin. “Did you finaly bone last night?” Jason flashed a red-faced glance in the rearview at Kyle.

“None of your business,” Kyle told Nelson.

“You did, didn’t you?” Nelson gave Jason a playful nudge on the shoulder. “I’m so jealous. I hate you both. I wish we could’ve stayed longer in that bar. Al those men! What a waste.”

At the bar Kyle had watched Nelson revel in the attention from guys. Fortunately the bartenders hadn’t served Nelson any alcohol, and BJ had kept him focused.

For Kyle, the bar experience had been a little unnerving because of al the guys staring at him, and even more stared at Jason. And at the same time it had given Kyle a rush to watch how Jason turned heads—and to put his arm around Jason, letting everyone know this guy was his.

“I want to go out again tonight,” Nelson said, running his hands over his hairless bare legs. “As a boy this time. It’s my turn to get laid.” Kyle stared out the window at the cypress trees, half-wishing Nelson would get laid so he’d shut up about it, but also worried. More than anything he wished Nelson could find someone good for him.

For lunch they stopped at a “Gator-to-Go” place where Nelson bought aligator-on-a-stick, Kyle got a burger, and Jason got chicken, though it al tasted nearly the same.

After lunch Nelson took the wheel, and when they crossed into Texas, he beeped the horn and shouted, “Woo-hoo!” East Texas passed by the window, uneventful and hot. The sun stil shone brightly when they arrived in Austin and checked into the Lone Star Campground. After the boys unloaded the car, Jason grabbed his basketbal to go practice. “Come partner with me,” he told Kyle.

Kyle hesitated, stil tired from the night before and also the drive, but then he decided maybe the exercise would help wake him up. Besides, how could he turn down Jason’s suggestion to “partner” with him?

The word echoed in Kyle’s ears as he rebounded and passed for Jason, watching him run in, gather up the rebound, and go up strong for the put-back. He loved being with Jason, watching him.

They practiced for over an hour before returning to the campsite, where Nelson was waking from a snooze. They al showered at the bathhouse, then they bought hot dogs and chips at the camp store. While griling the dogs, Nelson said, “I want to go dancing.” Especialy after basketbal practice, the last thing Kyle wanted to do was dance. “I’m beat,” he said, serving himself a wiener. “Can’t we just relax for one night?”

“No way!” Nelson protested. “This is our vacation! I don’t want to spend it sleeping.” Kyle chewed his hot dog, debating. He could tel by Nelson’s insistence that it was probably pointless to try to keep him from going out. Maybe he should just let him go by himself. But that worried him. Who would Nelson end up meeting? What little drama would he get into next?

Nevertheless, it would give Kyle and Jason time alone—and their sleeping bags would be a lot more comfortable than the floor of the New Orleans house had been.

However, just then Jason announced, “I want to go too.”

“Aren’t you tired?” Kyle asked.

“Yeah, but we might never be here again. I want to see where we are.”

Kyle grabbed a handful of chips, feeling outnumbered, and chewed on them, trying to decide what to do.

“Or,” Nelson proposed, slathering his hot dog with mustard, “if you don’t want to go, then Jason and I wil go alone.” Jason flinched as if startled by the idea of going alone with Nelson. He turned to Kyle, his brown eyes beseeching. “Come on, Kyle. Come with us.” Though he realy didn’t want to, Kyle agreed. After dinner, the boys dressed to go out.

At the camp office a beefy registration guy was reading a colege textbook. Nelson asked, “You know where we can find a dance club?”

“There’s lots of places around Sixth Street,” the guy replied.

“Isn’t he delicious?” Nelson commented, returning to the car.

Kyle unfolded his map, searching for Sixth Street. Then he guided them on a quick tour of the city, past the university’s tower and the pink granite capitol.

“I love it!” Nelson observed. “This butch cowboy state has a pink capitol!”

Then they headed to Sixth Street, an area lined with neon signs, nightclubs, and people spiling onto the sidewalk. At a stoplight three teenage girls—a black chick, a blonde, and a brunette—waited at the crosswalk. The black girl pointed at the boys’ car and waved, so Nelson roled down the window to hear her yel, “I like y’al’s rainbow flag!”

“Thanks!” Nelson shouted back. “Where’s a good club to go to?”

“We’re going to Score!” The blonde chick grinned as though fuly aware of her double meaning.

“That’s the name of the club,” explained the brunette, pointing down the street.

“It’s eighteen and over,” added the black girl.

The stoplight had changed to green and a car beeped behind them.

“Meet us there!” The blonde smiled again, and it seemed to Kyle like she was smiling especialy at Jason, in more than just a friendly way.