Out of the Burlap Ch. 00-01

"Sure," she smiled.

When he lifted them, her Blow-Up Dolls album appeared behind underneath.

"I should sign that," she said.

He handed it to her and she extracted a blue sharpie from her purse and wrote in cursive across the back, "To my dearest Joe King Solomon, May your burlap dissolve. Maya."

He nodded when he read it. "You know, it did with you for awhile. Longer than it ever had with a lover. In fact..."

"What?"

"I never felt...so..."

She smiled and kissed his tear and threw her purse and back pack over her shoulder and grabbed her guitar. "See you," she smiled sadly as she passed through his apartment door he had opened for her.

"...free," he muttered when she disappeared down the stairs.

***************

He missed her. He told her so in a phone message a couple days later. Since she never returned the call, he figured it was over. A wave of sadness as deep as he ever felt swept through him from time to time. "I should never have told her," he thought. "Idiot."

"Get over it," his best friend, Randy told him a couple weeks later as he massaged his shoulders and kissed his head. Such intimacy from a man never bothered Joe. It never got past that even if he knew Randy wished it did.

"You should talk," Joe smirked through his sadness. "It took like a year to get over losing Simon to another man."

"Fuck you," Randy replied lightly. He sighed when one of the dancers glanced back at them. "Such beautiful glutes."

Joe chuckled. "Look at his eyes, Randy. Morris is jealous."

"Really?" Randy perked up.

"Sad dog eyes."

"Beautiful brown eyes. He's just a kid."

"A kid with a crush on his choreographer. Go to him."

"You've got the tightest neck and back muscles I ever felt." Randy pressed deeper.

"I'm used to it."

"How can you dance so smoothly with these?"

"I use it. Fling it out when I fling myself outwards. Pull it in when I pull myself in. Loosen me up too much and the effect's gone."

"You're crazy," said Randy.

"Yeah," Joe replied sadly. "So I've heard. I'm fine. Go to him before he gets away thinking I got you instead of him."

"Got a joint?" Randy smiled removing his hands from Joe's naked back.

"Hand me my shoulder bag," Joe pointed to the bag resting on top of a front seat in the theater in which they had rehearsed for a final time for the opening performance the following evening. Randy rushed over to it as he tended to do when enthusiastic and brought the smooth black leather bag to his friend. "You sure you're not gay? I don't even carry a purse."

Joe found the Sucrets box in his bag and opened it and handed Randy a couple joints.

"One's fine," Randy objected.

"One for before and one for after," Joe explained. They chuckled. "Hurry."

"Yes Massa," Randy, the medium height and slim black man, one of few of any race but white or Indian from his hometown of Bemidji, replied.

Joe shook his head as his best friend darted away, returning for his jacket before disappearing out of the theater space, giving Joe a brief, embarrassed shrug.

Removing a new blank book, Joe began to write, murmuring to himself, "If she ever does do my lyrics, these won't be amongst them."

Maya's Eyes

She stood tall at five feet five

So brilliant and so alive

She glowed as if heaven sent

So angelic so evanescent

She never knew what she did to me

She sent me soaring she set me free

She filled me full of loving sighs

With just a look from violet eyes

She had a body that just didn't quit

A face that stunned me quite a bit

A voice so sweet it stirred my soul

Just her presence made me whole

Only a day but a whole lifetime

Seemed to fill my love starved mind

So many sorrows, so many cries

Gone with a glance from violet eyes

I lost it all in Maya's eyes

What a wonder, what a surprise

A day and a night until sunrise

I lost it all in Maya's eyes

Those eyes so fetching those eyes so blue

No other glance could be so true

Any other would be compromise

In comparison to her violet eyes

Only a day and she stole my heart

After that day I felt torn apart

When she left me to seek other things

She left a dirge in my heartstrings

She left me solo she left me bare

She left me bereft of even a care

All that's left until my heart dies

Is the memory of those luscious violet eyes

I lost it all in Maya's eyes

What a wonder, what a surprise

A day and a night until sunrise

I lost it all in Maya's eyes

*****************

The timing couldn't have been more perfect. The talented and pretty young man with the puppy dog eyes that had been so cutely sad had been transformed. An elated puppy dog is just as cute. And Randy looked equally elated. The three women of the Nordeast Dance Company, hopeful beyond hope that they had a chance with Morris, that he wasn't gay, got over it with shrugs and resigned smiles. Carol, the tallest, a lithe, sinuous blonde with a pretty, girl-next-door face that became radiant when she danced shifted her attention to Joe, who by association with their leader the ladies had figured was Randy's lover.

The perfection of the timing of the newly minted love affair between mentor and dancer came from the evening that followed their getting together being opening night of the season's first performance of the Nordeast Dance Company. Falling in love energized Morris. He never moved so well or glowed so charismatically before. Randy seemed that much more powerful in presence and movement as well. And Carol's sinuous seductiveness luring Joe to notice her didn't hurt. And the other ladies seemed to feed off the energy. Only Joe seemed unchanged, though that wasn't a problem. He always had a powerful presence on stage with his endless arms and legs and his grace and even his relentlessly deadpan expression that, like Buster Keaton had done nearly a century before, reflected emotion in the most subtle and beguiling way possible.

Third season is the charm. Randy had slowly built a following from the two previous seasons. They had a near capacity crowd at the Southern Theater witnessing them at their best.

An immense distraction in the audience constituted the only problem for Joe. Dark blue, nearly violet eyes near the back. It tightened him all the more. But he used it as he always did. And he refocused on Carol and her flirtatious, subtle smiles and glances at the middle of his body. Tights made the lump there more obvious. It didn't rise all that much, but enough, especially when he saw her tongue or at least he thought he did sliding between her wide, perfect lips, neither too thin nor too plump. Her amusement in her flashing pale blue eyes helped him more than she could know in bringing him out of a throb of nervous funk in his chest and belly and into his own amusement at her amazing ballsyness, seducing him in the midst of the seriousness of performance. He managed the subtlest of grins and nods which she received happily.

"Oops," he thought. "Wrong message. Then again...she is hot and I'm not taken really." Somehow that thought pleased him, like climbing to the summit of an endless hill to find the comfort of flatness and even a nice quiet descent.

Backstage afterwards, Maya approached him tentatively, offering a single red rose. "It's been dethorned," she told him.

"Unlike you," he returned, lost in her eyes. It surprised him when she smiled albeit sadly.

"Yeah," she said. "You were...beautiful. You too," she said to Carol who leaned against Joe almost possessively.

"Thanks," said Carol, studying the beautiful older woman, almost a decade older than her she could somehow tell despite the woman's petite size. Except she wasn't altogether petite. She couldn't help noticing how well the woman filled her vibrant violet cashmere sweater.

"Uhm...," Maya hesitated.

"We're going to be headed across the street to the bar/restaurant the Moosehead as soon as we're changed," said Carol. "Come join us."

Surprised by Carol's invitation, Joe decided to go with it. "If you're alone."

"Sure," said Maya.

"Cool," Carol smiled. "You can get us a big table. We'll be a half hour changing. Order us a pitcher of beer and big basket of fries. I'm starved." Then she scurried through a door.

"It's good to see you," said Joe.

"Really?"

"Sort of."

"Yeah. Sorry."

Joe chuckled, loosening up. "I guess I won't slap you."

"That's good," she chuckled back. "Yours would hurt."

"You think yours didn't?"

"Sor...never mind. You look good, Joe."

"You do too."

They stopped talking and gazed into each other's eyes.

"Better change," Joe finally said. "See you in a few. Thanks for the rose."

"See you," she replied and turned and walked away. He could see her petite butt shifting in her tight red leather slacks and sighed reminiscing on it's nakedness in his hands.

He noticed Randy inundated by a fawning audience looking back at him. "You okay?" his best friend mouthed.

Joe nodded, a half smile on his face. Surprisingly, he was. Surprisingly, he felt relaxed.

*************

The threesome huddled together outside the back corner of the building housing the bar/restaurant handing the joint from fingers to fingers, forming a triangle to avert the cool wind. Smiles bounced against smiles from all three mouths.

Despite the loud distractions of the full back table the dancers had taken over, the three had bonded over plentiful glasses of beer ensconcing each other in a sort of private bubble. And they alone had stayed to near bar closing, Joe offering sharing a joint at that moment before last call would be announced and the remaining crowd exiting would make privacy such as they found as they sucked in sweet smoke impossible. Of course, as it turned out, they could have just walked to Carol's apartment.

"I should go," said Maya reluctantly once the roach had been put away in Joe's Sucrets box.

"And how are you going?" asked Carol.

"How do you think?" Maya chuckled.

"Well, Joe here takes the bus or walks several miles."

"I can drive you home, Joe."

"You're not driving anyone anywhere, including yourself," Carol proclaimed.

"What? I'm not? Why not? And what other choice would there be?"

Carol leaned down and kissed her. "You two are coming home with me," she smiled.

"But what about my car?" Maya argued.

"Where is it?"

"Just there," Maya pointed to her green Volvo parked across the street from them. "I had to feed it the maximum two hours and just managed exactly 10 o'clock when it wouldn't be a problem."

"Let's see when the meter needs feeding in the morning," said Carol. "We'll just have to get your cute little butt up to take care of it."

After another soft kiss, Maya squeaked, "Okay. So where do you live?"

"Not far," Carol smiled.

Finding out the meter needed feeding at six am didn't please Maya. She shrugged. "Just a second," she said to her new friends, Joe's friendship being older but not by all that much. She opened the trunk and pulled out the ubiquitous black guitar case.

"Let me take that," said Joe.

"Of course," Maya smiled.

Along the way to what turned out to be only three blocks, albeit they were long blocks, Joe asked Maya, "Do you always have your guitar?"

"Nope," Maya replied. "I...had plans...for after your show."

"Shit," Carol muttered. "I guess I ruined them. I can be a bit...aggressive."

"No," said Joe, taking her hand.

"Are you kidding?" Maya said simultaneously. "I had a great time tonight."

"You did?" Carol grinned.

Both Maya and Joe nodded, Maya taking her other hand.

"Cool," the tall blonde said. "We're almost there."

**************

"Nice," said Joe when they entered Carol's apartment on the eighth floor. The view from the living room looked over the University of Minnesota campus including the Washington Avenue Bridge, the Mississippi below it and the shiny and curvy new Frank Gehry designed Weismann Art Museum just beyond it. The apartment itself was much more modern and comfortable and somewhat more spacious than his apartment despite being a one bedroom like his. The pinkish beige coloring of leather and chrome furniture and shag rug and the eggshell white walls made it very light and airy.

"Daddy spoils me," Carol shrugged. "Sit. Make yourselves at home. Coffee?"

"Sure" and "Thanks" her friends said simultaneously prompting giggles from all three despite it being not all that funny. Being stoned can do that. The giggles in fact metamorphosed into full belly laughs.

"Ah me, I feel good," said Carol recovering.

"Me too," both Maya and Joe said provoking another round of unreasonable laughter.

Carol filled her fancy kettle and put it on her fancy stove to boil. Gathering her large coffee press, she ground her fancy coffee. Finally she pulled out a bottle of fine cognac and three snifters. "I'm glad you didn't ask for decaffeinate since I don't have any," she told them as she walked into the living room with the glasses and handed two off. "I had instant but couldn't stomach it. I guess I'm a bit of snob that way. No sipping the cognac until the coffee's ready and we toast, okay?"

"Sure," the other two said and stifled laughs. It was getting too silly.

"So what's with the guitar?" she asked Maya.

"I wanted to surprise Joe," Maya answered.

"Don't let me stop you," she smiled and kissed her for the third time and headed to the kitchen with the low whistle of the kettle already announcing boiling water.

Opening the case, Maya brought out the old Gibson and some sheets of paper, placing the sheets on the coffee table, and strummed and tuned and strummed. And sang.

"Wow," said Joe afterwards. "Thanks," he gulped, feeling blown away.

"Yeah, thanks," sniffled Carol. "Such a sad and funny and beautiful song. You wrote it?"

"Just the music," Maya smiled and chuckled a little at Carol's tears.

"And the lyrics?"

"That'd be me," Joe replied, still stunned, gazing in wonder at Maya.

"Oh Joe," Maya murmured, setting the guitar on the rug and pulling him down awkwardly for a kiss. It became less awkward when he guided her into his lap straddling him as it continued. "I'm sorry," she murmured before another lengthy kiss. When it ended, she murmured into his ear, "I missed you."

"Uhm..." said Carol causing the two lovers to look at her. They chuckled at her look of embarrassment, regret and sadness all combined. "Coffee's getting cold." The chuckle turned to laughter and Carol joined it, feeling relief for some reason.

Climbing off Joe's lap, Maya gestured for the blonde dancer to sit at Joe's other side on the coach. Once Carol sat, Maya reached a hand across Joe and took Carol's hand and grasped it and pulled it into Joe's lap. Her other hand reached for the snifter. "You had a toast for us?" she said to her new friend.

Carol grinned a little and moaned a little and rubbed a little on Joe's hidden but obviously significant hard on. She and Joe took hold of their snifters and raised them. "To the pleasure of new and improved friendship," she said nodding at Carol for the "new" and Joe for the "improved."

"Amen," Maya responded as glasses rang at their meeting. The three sipped the delicious heat of the cognac. "Yum," she responded to the flavor.

"Taste the coffee," Carol explained. "I know everyone likes their coffee different, but this is really prime stuff and just a hint of sugar makes the flavor perfect."

"Nice," said Joe after his sip. "All we need is an expensive cigar."

"I knew I forgot something," Carol grinned, jumping to her feet and heading to the bedroom. She paused in its doorway. "Share or one each?" she asked.

"Share what?" asked Joe.

"Cuban cigars."

"You're kidding."

"Nope."

"Wow."

"Let's bond with it like a joint," Maya suggested.

"Cool," said Carol before disappearing into her room. She emerged a minute later with a large cigar, an ashtray and in the ashtray, a small guillotine to slice off the tip and a box of tipped matches. The ashtray and guillotine were matching brass.

Returning to her spot on the couch, she leaned forward to carefully snip off an end. "Dad brought me a box of these in his last trip to Europe and even bought me a humidor and gave them to me for my 21^st birthday."

"Weird," said Joe.

Striking the match on the sandpaper side of its box, Carol carefully waited for the tip to burn away leaving only wood to fuel the flame. Then, the large brown phallic object held in her mouth, she turned it as she lit the end until the cigar glowed evenly there. Handing the cigar to Joe, she exhaled the smoke into her snifter and sipped, followed by a sip of coffee.

Once the ceremony ended, and while Joe followed it precisely as far as filling the snifter with smoke before sipping it and the coffee, Carol explained, "Dad never knew what to do with me when he raised me, though he made every attempt. My biological mother wasn't maternal and the wives that followed never got accepted as mothers by me. I adore my father, always have, and when he returned from his many excursion to far away places I always greeted him excessively, more than the wives to their returning lover, though often times, especially with his later wives, they accompanied him with a nanny looking out for me. And he would return bearing gifts, dolls at the beginning or frilly dresses. But I wasn't all that interested in them, even throwing a fit when he insisted I wear one of those dresses, always the height in young girl fashion, when he invited fellow Brahmin families with children to my birthday, my tenth I think, making it clear to him his daughter clung to a tomboy attitude. I think he thought he could cure me of that; have a sweet feminine daughter to show off or something. I guess it got through and forever after it became more sports oriented toys and we would bond over tossing baseballs or footballs or kicking soccer balls around in our backyard. He even got me a soccer ball signed by the players of the Real Madrid soccer club which was like the coolest present of all."

"Thus, cigars," Joe concluded for her.

"Yeah. Cool, hunh? Though this is the first one I've smoked since the day he gave them to me. We did it like we're doing it now. He always wanted me to learn sophisticated ways."

"Why's that?" asked Maya.

"I told him back when we had a talk after my birthday dress tantrum that I wanted to be just like him. Not a ballet diva, though I loved my ballet classes, but an international consultant on trade with the US or US trade with other countries. I don't know if he believed me then, he might have, but for sure he did when I asked him a million questions whenever he returned from his business travels."

"But you dance now, beautifully I might add," said Maya.

"Thanks. I did study dance at the U, but I got my bachelors in business. I only minored in dance. I plan on continuing my studies, get an MBA at Georgetown in DC, but first I want to keep dancing for Randy and with Joe for awhile. Randy really is a genius. And Joe is...adorable. I always thought he was gay since he and Randy are so close."

Maya giggled. "He's definitely not gay."

"Yeah," Carol giggled. "I just found out tonight." Her smile ended and she looked down from her glances at Joe and Maya. "Maybe too late."

"You like girls too?" Maya murmured.

"Yeah. I thought I was a lesbian for awhile. My first lover was a rather butch girl in high school. Funny thing was, though I went out of my way to befriend her since she seemed to be ostracized and I enjoyed, well, the lovemaking, perhaps I did it because she needed it more than me. Sort of a noble cause. I've always been a cocky kid, never shy, and that allowed me into her life in a way, breaking through her walls which probably had a lot to do with a fear of being outed or something. And she did have a scrumptious body, voluptuous and athletic, a lot to play with." Carol giggled. "But I never felt as attracted to her as I did to boys, usually older boys who either had a girlfriend or might have been gay. A lesbian wasn't supposed to have crushes on boys. And I had a feeling my girlfriend would be disappointed or worse, torn apart if I decided to pursue these obsessions." She puffed on the dwindling cigar and sipped the two liquids. When she offered to pass it, both Joe and Maya shook their heads so she snuffed it out.