Shane and Carmen: The Novelization Ch. 06

They stared at Feef. Then Jenny turned to Shane. "Okay!" Jenny said brightly.

"Yup!" Shane threw in quickly.

"Well, I think we'll get back to you!" Jenny said, smiling politely and with an insincerity that sailed past Feef untouched.

"I - I agree. Thank you, Feef."

"Thanks," Jenny said.

Shane got up and escorted Feef to the door. "Um, for, um ... for coming by!"

Shane closed the door and sat back down. "All right."

"Shit," Jenny muttered.

"We gotta cut these interviews short, I mean, right before it gets ugly."

"Mm-hmm, like in one second."

"We need to think of a signal," Shane said.

"Um, why don't I pull my ear, like that?" Jenny gave herself the Carol Burnett earlobe signal.

" Cool. If the person's not for you, pull your ear, and that means 'outta there.' And I'll do this – " she rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. "Okay?"

"Yeah."

Shane flopped back on the couch, exhausted. "Christ," she said.

***

"It's a consortium of doctors. I set up the Quickbooks system for them, and I run their billing for them," Ewen said. He was a pleasant-looking young man of about thirty. He seemed neat and clean, and he dressed and spoke well.

"And is that pretty much nine to five?" Jenny asked.

"More like seven to eleven. It's pretty intense, 'cause, well, uh, patients don't wanna pay their doctor's bills."

"Mm-hmm. So, Ewan, if it's not too personal, do you have a girlfriend, a boyfriend?" Shane asked.

"Well, I had a boyfriend, but, uh, we broke up about nine months ago. It was pretty mutual, but it was still kind of a rough time." He looked sad, and sighed.

"Sorry."

"I am starting to date again!" he said brightly.

"Yay," Jenny said, giving him a little cheer. So far so good with this guy. "What kinda music do you like?"

"Well, uh, mostly I listen to, uh, R&B and funk. Sly Stone, Chaka Khan, Prince."

Jenny and Shane smiled at each other.

"But I've got no problem wearing headphones if you're not into it."

"No, no, Prince is excellent," Shane said quickly. "Especially The Revolution.'"

"Yeah, with Wendy and Lisa?" Ewen said.

"Yes!"

"God, I love Wendy and Lisa," Jenny said.

"That's his best shit, hands down," Ewen said, smiling broadly. Kismet.

"Fuck it," Shane said to Jenny, "let's just show Ewan the studio room he'd have."

"Yeah," Jenny agreed. Finally! A housemate!

"There's just one thing I wanna make sure you're okay with, it's just not really a big deal."

"Lay it on us, Ewan."

"Well, I just want you to know sometimes I'm gonna be naked."

There was a pause while they considered this... development. "Uh, yeah. Yeah! I mean, when you're having a shower, or like, what, uh, getting changed," Jenny said, helpfully.

"Yeah. LA in the summer is a killer; everyone sleeps naked," Shane said.

"Yeah. Yeah, totally," Jenny said.

"And sometimes, like, you know, like, hanging around the house, too," Ewen said.

Jenny and Shane stared at him.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know, like doing day-to-day things, like, um, dusting, gardening, reading the paper, cooking breakfast ... "

Jenny slowly tugged at her earlobe.

"Basically, I'm a nudist. It's a lifestyle thing," Ewen said. "But it's so natural, after a while you'll get used to it."

"Do you really think that, Ewan?"

"Oh yeah, sure, what's the big deal if I took my shoes off." He stood and kicked off his shoes, "...and my shirt." He took off his shirt. "That wouldn't be a big deal, right?"

Shane rubbed her nose. Ewan unbuckled his belt. "So, what if I, uh, take it one more step further?" He dropped his drawers. "That's no big deal, right?" He reached to remove his underwear but Jenny and Shane held up their hands to stop him.

"Oh, my God! No, Ewan!"

Too late.

***

"I recommend we set up a schedule for bathing, cooking, cleaning," the woman said. She was in her early thirties. Short, blond hair. Bland but pleasant face. No smile. Authoritative. Direct. "And I think it would be really, really bonding if once a week we each made a meal for the other two."

Shane stared at her, wondering what planet she was from.

"My specialties are string bean tuna fish casserole, and, uh, Sloppy Joe lasagna." She smiled at Shane and Jenny.

Jenny and Shane stared. Shane rubbed her nose. Jenny tugged her earlobe.

***

"Yeah, I've been with the company for about four years. They treat me well, so I don't see myself going anywhere," said the young woman Jenny was interviewing.

"Good," Jenny said, pleased to hear it. "Would you be happy, in the studio, back there? Because Shane, my roommate, said that she would be willing to sleep in the main house."

"Oh! I don't even mind the extra little bit of privacy," the woman said, happily.

Just then Shane got home from a job and came through the back door.

"Um, hey!" Jenny said to Shane.

"Hi," Shane said, "Sorry I'm late." Shane threw her bag on the floor and sat on the couch next to Jenny. She patted Jenny on the knee affectionately, not even being aware of it.

"Shane, this is Sally."

"Hey, Sally."

"Hi," Sally said.

"And Sally said that she would be willing to sleep in the studio."

The smile remained on Sally's face, but it iced up a little as she looked Shane over. Androgynous kind of haircut. Man's shirt. Thin man necktie. Man-looking kind of girl, actually. You know...not...

"Excellent," Shane said to Jenny. Turning to Sally she said, "So, um ... you're into the studio. Does that mean you discussed the kitchen and bathroom situation?" She turned to Jenny again, gesturing back and forth between Jenny and Sally. They weren't picking up on Sally, who was stone-faced.

"Um, yes, I have," Jenny said.

"And what about rent?"

"Uh - I - I did need to ask a question," Sally said.

Jenny and Shane turned to her.

"Uh ... you two aren't ... um ... "

Jenny and Shane suddenly caught on and laughed.

"Uh!" Shane said, Jenny overlapping with "Oh, uh, no."

"No!"

"No," Jenny said, smiling.

"No," Shane said.

"No," Jenny said, shaking her head no. How silly.

"No," Shane said, putting her arm around Jenny. "No, we're friends. We're roommates."

"Just friends," Sally said.

"Yeah."

"Is there a problem?" Jenny asked.

Sally reflexively touched the cross on her necklace. She hesitated, then pulled a pamphlet out of her purse. "My church ... we have a group called Exodus Ministry and--"

"Exodus Ministry," Jenny said, doubtfully.

Shane stared at Sally. Shane knew what Sally was talking about. Jenny looked at Shane.

"We can help get you out of the homosexual lifestyle. Jesus loves us all. He hates the sin, but he loves the sinner."

It was Shane's turn to be stone-faced. "Thanks for coming by, Sally," she said, rising to her feet.

"Bye, Sally," Jenny said, without feeling.

Shane pointed to the door. "It's that way. I'll show it to you."

Shane walked over and opened the door. Sally looked confused but picked up her purse and left.

Jenny and Shane just looked at each other. Shane looked angry; Jenny could see the tension in her jaw. Jenny just shook her head sadly. Just then there came a knock at the door. Shane went to answer it, assuming Sally had forgotten something.

"Wait!" Jenny said, "I'm going to talk to her."

"Okay," Shane agreed, thinking she had a few things to say herself if she ever managed to tamp down all the noise in her head and put some sentences together that didn't start off with fuck you.

Shane opened the door and found a tall, good-looking guy on the porch with a video camera on his shoulder. He was filming Shane.

"Afternoon, ladies. I'm Mark. I, uh, I called earlier. Who did I talk to on the phone?"

Jenny rubbed her temples. What now? She felt a headache coming on. A tall, male headache. "That would be me."

"Jenny. That's your name, right?" He kept filming as he entered the living room. Shane looked at him suspiciously.

"Mark," he said, extending his hand to Jenny. Still filming, they shook. Jenny stared uncomfortably into the camera lens, frowning.

"Hi, Mark."

"Nice to meet you," he said. He worked the camera zoom, getting a close-up of Jenny's face.

"Wow. Amazing eyes," he said.

"Thank you."

Mark turned and walked to Shane, putting the camera in her face.

"I'm Mark."

"Yeah. You said that. I'm Shane. Do you mind, please?" Shane gently but firmly pushed the camera out of her face and closed the front door. Mark backed off but never stopped filming.

"Sorry, I know this thing is intrusive, but it's sorta my life's work. I'm chronicling, bear with me, guys."

Jenny pulled on her earlobe like crazy. Shane's nose itched so bad she nearly rubbed it off.

"Check this," Mark said, narrating into the camera's microphone. "Two dark-haired beauties with blue eyes. What are the odds of that?" He laughed. "So is that, like, how you guys decided to be roommates?"

"I'm sorry, Mark. What is it that you're looking for?" Shane asked coolly.

"That ... is an excellent question. How do you mean, spiritually? Philosophically?"

"No, as in a place to live," Jenny said.

"Oh, whew," he laughed. "I can answer that question. Um ... " He turned the camera around and handed it to Shane. "Would you mind? Just hold the camera while I ... "

Shane took the camera and pointed it lop-sidedly at Mark, uninterested in helping him film his own video interview. Mark leaned over to get his face into the crooked shot. "Sorry," Shane said, straightening out the camera.

"Mark Wayland here," he narrated into the lens, "talking to Jenny and Shane, answering the question, 'What are you looking for in a place to live?' And hoping that my completely obnoxious, in-your-face video camera entrance doesn't totally prejudice them against considering me as their roommate."

Jenny and Shane couldn't help but smile at each other. Jenny heaved a theatrical sigh. "Okay, Mark, sit down and we'll talk."

Shane found herself starting to get into this film thing. Still keeping the camera on Mark, she sat down on the sofa next to Jenny while Mark sat in the chair opposite them.

"So what is it you do with these videos, Mark?" Jenny asked.

"I make what are called 'direct-to-video' films," he said. "There's no intention to ever try to market them as first-run movies. For one thing, they aren't good enough, and for another, they appeal to very small niche markets."

"Direct-to-videos, huh?"

"Yup," Mark said.

"What do you do on these videos?"

"I write 'em, I shoot 'em, and I cut 'em," Mark said, smiling a little immodestly. "When I first took the gig I thought, uh, it'd only be part-time so I'd get my shit together, go back to film school, but ... didn't really work out."

"What are some of the titles of the videos that you've made, Mark?" Jenny asked, as Shane kept on filming. She started to play with the zoom a little, getting the hang of some of the options the camera gave her.

Mark's grin was a little shamefaced. "Bareknuckle Backyard Wrestling, Bloody Bar Brawls, Ass-Kicking Sisters, and my first was called World's Craziest Bachelor Parties. It was a pretty big seller, but not as big as, uh, Wild-Ass Catholic School Girls."

Shane turned the camera on Jenny to get her less-than-enthusiastic reaction. Jenny's eyebrows were wrinkled.

"Did you catch that one?" Mark asked, laughing, knowing full well they hadn't.

Shane turned the camera off, laughing. "That's twisted, Mark. Um ... you know, Jenny and I will get back to you." She handed his camera back to him.

"Okay. Look, I'm guessing both of you know what it's like to try to figure out how to be an artist." He pointed to the building out back. "Is that the studio?"

"Yeah," Jenny and Shane said together.

"Because that is amazing. I could bring in my equipment and post all my shows right out of there. Look, I don't wanna do this. I wanna make documentaries, that's all I've ever wanted to do."

"There's not a lot of call for that, is there?" Jenny asked sympathetically.

"No. But, I mean, God - a truly great documentary film, there's ... it's not - it's - have you ever seen this movie called Grey Gardens?"

"Oh my God," Jenny exclaimed, "that's, um, what is it. That's those two -- uh, the two insane women ... "

"Yeah."

Mark and Jenny both began to explain the movie to Shane, who looked perplexed.

"They're like the mother and the daughter, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," Mark nodded.

"Yeah, that's probably the most crazy--"

"Best--"

"Unbelievable--"

"Best documentary ever," Mark said.

"Best documentary I've ever seen," Jenny agreed.

"Yes."

"Yeah."

Mark turned to Shane. "You must see this movie. That is my inspiration. Imagine what that would be like to make something like that? That - that truly moved people. I ... " He stopped and sighed, acknowledging the futility of trying to meet a standard that high.

"Do you really want to move people?" Jenny asked. She was thinking of her own writing, and her own ambitions with it. And here was a fellow artist with the same aspirations and dreams.

"Yes. I really want to move people," he said quietly.

"That's understandable," Shane chipped in, entering their world for the first time. Jenny looked at her.

"Please don't judge me by what I do to get by. I mean ... I know it's weird." He laughed. "But my direct-to-video gig pays. I can give you first month's rent, last month's rent, security, and six months' rent up front, in cash."

Jenny and Shane looked at each other. They had a housemate.

***

Seven of them piled out of Shane's truck and Alice's car about 9 p.m. one evening a few days later. Only Alice and Dana had ever been here before, so Shane led them carefully along the driveway in the darkness to the entrance to Bette and Tina's backyard -- and their swimming pool. Alice and Dana had been at a club with Shane and a couple girls Shane knew when one of the girls complained about how hot and sweaty this dancing made her, and how she'd love to go for a swim to cool off. And before she knew it, Shane said she knew of a pool, just next door to her own place, and they were free to use it any time. And next thing she knew there were seven of them out on the sidewalk heading to the cars.

"Careful, don't trip," Shane said, leading the group down the driveway. "Bette said that we could swim here whenever we wanted. So ... let's fucking do it." She heard the sudden sound of a beer can pop-top popping, and heard Alice right behind her stop and take a swig. Shane opened the side gate and let them all pass by into the backyard. They began to undress, and in seconds there were seven naked women laughing and cavorting in the pool, lit by a few mood lights around its perimeter.

A few minutes after that, Jenny left her house to go to the store, and ran into Mark and some other guy, who'd just arrived in Mark's truck. "Hey, Jenny," Mark greeted her.

"Hey, Mark."

"This is my buddy, Gomey," Mark said, introducing them in the near-dark.

"Hi," Gomey said, shaking hands with Jenny.

"Hey," Jenny said. She had the impression of a guy in his late twenties, buzz cut haircut, sloppy T-shirt, slacker look, kind of plain looking, nothing special one way or the other.

They could hear girls laughing and splashing in Bette and Tina's pool, and through breaks in the shrubbery they could see the girls were naked.

"Whew. That pool looks so fine, Jenny. Would it be cool if we joined you?" Gomey asked.

"Um ... you should probably ask them," Jenny said. "I'm going to the store."

Just then Shane saw them in the driveway and called out, "Hey Mark, come join us!"

Gomey nodded happily and would have been naked in three seconds but for a look from Mark. Gomey frowned and headed off to the garage in a sulk. Jenny started to walk off down the drive way when Mark stopped her.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Jenny stopped and turned. "Yeah."

Mark walked over and sat down on a bench alongside the house. Jenny sat next to him. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Jenny. "Smoke?"

"Yeah."

Mark lit her cigarette and then his own. They listened to Shane and Alice and the others carry on and laugh, having a great time.

"What?" Jenny prompted him.

"Those girls ... they're all gay, right?"

"Yeah," Jenny said. "They pretty much are."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you gay?"

Jenny shrugged and blew out smoke. "No. I don't know. What do you think?"

"If I saw you at a bar," Mark said, "I would assume you were straight."

"Mm-hmm."

"That doesn't really mean anything," Mark said gently.

"No, it doesn't."

"Never know, these days, do you?"

"No, you don't. Except. You knew they were," Jenny said, motioning toward the pool. "Right?"

"That's true," Mark nodded.

"So what do you think it is?"

"I don't know. I'd say it has something to do with their attitude. It's not that they're masculine, or anything, 'cause actually some of them are pretty feminine. You know? It's ... they have these ... haircuts."

Jenny shook her head and rolled her eyes at him. Hopeless.

Mark tried to recover. "These very cool haircuts - don't get me wrong - it's not - more - it's obviously more than a haircut."

Jenny laughed at him. Keep bailing, buddy.

"But it's - no, it's true," he tried. "It's this ... something ... that they exude that's ... I'm gonna try and put my finger on it."

"Good," she laughed again. "Tell me when you do, Mark."

"I will. I'll tell you when I do."

Jenny chuckled in the dark. Mark glanced over at the girls in the pool. Jenny smacked his arm and pointed her finger in his face.

"Don't look!" she said, mock seriously. But part of her wondered what would happen if Mark jumped naked into a pool of seven very confirmed lesbians.

"Sorry," Mark said sheepishly, not knowing if he was in the doghouse or not.

"That's naughty," Jenny teased him, getting up. "G'night."

"G'night." He watched Jenny walk away and then glanced back over at the girls in the pool. Christ. Seven smokin' hot lesbos, naked. Seven hot, wet lesbians. Just think of the possibilities. Just think of the combinations. Just think of the ... oh, fuck. It wasn't gonna happen.

Reluctantly Mark got up and went home to the studio. And Gomey. Seven hot, smokin', wet, naked, young, wet, pussy-lovin', California-type, suntanned, golden, carpet-munching, did he mention hot? steamy, probably horny lesbians. Did he mention naked? Dykes. Daughters of Bilitis. Sisters of Sappho. And who does he wind up with? Gomey, and a night of Madden 2005.

Fuck.

***

About eleven one of the girls mentioned that it was a school night, not that anybody was actually a student or a teacher, but they did have jobs and lives, some of them, and by 11:15 everyone had gone home. Shane threw on just her shirt, walked across the driveway, and went into her house. She took a shower to wash off the chlorine, put on a fresh pair of jockeys and a sleeveless T-shirt, and picked up a small bottle of Jose Cuervo she'd been drinking from earlier in her room. She normally kept it in the freezer in the kitchen, but now it was room temperature. Shane took a belt and walked into the kitchen to put it back in the freezer. She found Jenny sitting at the kitchen table, looking sad and wistful.

"What are you doing still awake?" she asked.

Jenny looked thoughtfully at Shane.

"Shane? Will you do me a favor?"

"Sure. What?"

"Will you cut my hair?"

Shane thought about it for a moment. What was going on in Jenny's head now? "What kind of haircut do you want?"

Jenny knew the answer. It was what Mark had been struggling in his own boorish way to define. A dyke haircut. A lesbian haircut. She knew on one level that it was silly, that there was really no such thing as a dyke style. But Jenny had been brooding on what Mark said about her looking "straight." Well, maybe he was right -- and if so, maybe it was time to do something about that. To climb off the fence. To leave the straight world behind. Time to join her sisters. To make a statement about who she was. No, about what she was. It was time to tell the world: Jenny Schecter was a lesbian.