The Singer Pt. 02

DIPPING MY TOES

Linda is drawn deeper into Rowena's world when they decide to check out potential venues in Melbourne but Linda is finding it hard to avoid the feeling that she is just chasing rainbows. To make it worse Rowena seems determined to maintain a platonic friendship despite being aware that Linda finds her desirable.

Dipping my toes in the dating pool felt like something I'd done when I first came out to myself at least. I was in high school and trying to finish school without flunking too many classes and walk the fine line between being progressive and sluttish. It's a minefield when you're seventeen and I'm afraid I only got as far as being liberal-minded. I never called myself liberal because it might lead people to think I supported the Liberal Party in Australia, which has to be the most badly named party in Australia. They're anything but liberal!

Another factor of course was my interest in martial arts and admittedly I only started going because I had a crush on a girl at school who talked me into going. She was straight and still is but along the way I really got into karate because it was a challenge and it helped to focus my wandering mind for a couple of hours at least. However after classes I'd come back to the real world, studies, family life, and my struggle with sexual identity because I did like boys just not sexually.

I really didn't get any further until I started at Swinburne TAFE, a community focused higher education system that can either be a pathway to further employment or a gateway to university. For me it was just a way of catching my breath and it was there I met my first love, Cathy and after her there were a steady stream of others. Along the way I grew and matured, and about halfway through my arts course I agreed to come on board as a part time instructor at my dojo, working with youngsters and it was at the dojo that I met Mia, a doe-eyed brunette who stayed with me until just after I graduated.

She and I never stayed together for reasons that defy both of us, but she had a salon in Eastland and from time to time I'd drop in for a quick chat and sometimes she'd talk me into sitting in the chair to tidy up my brown mop. Today though I was going for a makeover from hell and nothing was going to dissuade me. I've always considered myself a Plain Jane, I do have a pixie-like face and I've been told my eyes are my best asset, my hair is shoulder length but if it grows beyond them I get split ends.

"So, who is she?" Mia stared at me in the mirror, "it is a she, isn't it?"

"Of course," I frowned, "but it's complicated."

"It usually is," she started running a brush through my hair, "do you want to keep it bottled inside or let it all out?"

I did let it all out for two reasons, firstly she was with someone so there was a clear boundary and secondly she'd experienced things I'd only read about. Her father was a Serb and her mother a Croat, a truly rare combination and when war broke out they fled to Germany and from there made their way to Australia. Mia's extended family on her mother's side had suffered greatly during the war. Mia was born here but she grew up with stories about the blood-letting, you can tell her almost anything and she won't blink but my predicament did cause her to frown.

"I think you're chasing your tail," she eventually told me, "you want her but she doesn't want you and you've agreed to this arrangement to please her."

"So, what should I do?"

"Perhaps you should go with the flow."

"But you just said."

"Things change," she replied, "take it from me, what's set in stone is not always permanent but you shouldn't pin all your hopes on her."

"So, you don't think she's curious?"

"She might be but for now just go along with it but don't come crying when she says no."

"As if I would do that," I stared at her.

"You need to find common ground."

"What common ground do we have?"

"You both belong to communities that are in the minority. I can't say if you two are meant for each other but you should find common ground and try to stay friends first."

The simplicity of that advice stayed with me the rest of the night and through the next day, and when Rowena stopped by the spare parts counter it took a few moments to get around to dealing with her. She had a CD in her hand.

"It's the band," she held it out as if it was tainted, "just to give you some ideas."

"Thanks," I took it, "I might not have time to listen to it tonight."

"That's cool," she replied, "so, you're coming tonight?"

"Yeah, I'll be there."

"I like your hair," she reached out and flicked at it, "you should grow it longer."

She pulled back and nodded at me.

"Okay, I gotta get back before they send out a search party."

"I'll walk you back," Bazza suddenly spoke up, "I've got to see Johnno about something."

"No worries," she folded her arms, "well, come on, I've got people to do."

That deliberate corruption of an old phrase brought a smile to Bazza's face as he followed her out into the street. I couldn't help but wondering at her though as they headed back to the main building she almost seemed unperturbed at his clumsy flirting. Was she flirting with me or just doing what women do all the time with each other?

The mystery continued when I turned up at the church that night with my camera to meet the band and they seemed almost normal. Paul and David play rhythm guitar, Mohammed or Mo' plays bass, Mac plays drums, and I've already told you about Rowena.

Any illusions I had about Rowena being a good little Christian girl who might need protection were shattered when she started strumming the first few bars of John Farnham's Freedom and then let rip with that voice of hers. Farnham has a pretty decent voice, considering he was a chain smoker for years, but her voice moves between several octaves with relative ease. When she's on stage it's like a completely different person comes out to play. The next song they rehearsed was one of my old favourites, Bad Company's Wishing Well and from then on it was a succession of secular hits from the eighties right through to the noughties. Was this a Christian band?

I took a few pictures at random and a few were posed ones with the band and their instruments, they all seemed so normal and outside I saw David puffing down a cigarette whilst on the phone to his girlfriend by the sounds of things. Rowena was chatting with the guys but judging by the body language the relationship between them was purely platonic.

"We're all Christians," Rowena told me later on as she leaned on my car, "but we don't want to get into preaching through our music. It causes a bit of controversy within the church because they expect us to glorify God with our talents but our argument is that a Christian bricklayer doesn't carve bible verses into the house he's building so why should we turn every song into a sermon. We want to play in pubs but because we're Christian we don't want to take on the rock and roll lifestyle of hard drinking and drugs."

"I get it," I frowned, "sort of, so is that why you're happy to have a gay woman do your flyers?"

"Yeah, absolutely," she grinned, "we're part of this world, not separate. God loves us all without any conditions, we attach conditions to unconditional love because we don't understand how anyone can love unconditionally."

"Now that's different," I admitted.

"So," she lifted the hatch of her hatchback, "we're set for Saturday night?"

"Yeah, too right we are."

"I'd like to go to the Burvale," she glanced at me, "my cousin, Jenny and her partner Kylie are going there for a night out so I thought it'd be a good opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. You can meet my cousin and we can check out the venue."

It sounded too much like a date and I admit I did think about it that night as stared at the ceiling. I'd lived with this Saturday night mantra for years, we all work for the weekend and yet truth be told I quite often stayed home on a Saturday night. The pubs on the weekend can be filled to capacity and it had become tiring to fight your way through to the bar and hope some drunk doesn't put his hands on your arse. Now I was committed to regular Saturday nights with a sexy straight woman and yet I couldn't help thinking that God had a twisted sense of humour. This feeling became more intense when I listened to the CD she'd given me, they had a good sound and when I listened to it a few times over I realised that the band were serious about not preaching. There were love songs and songs with a social justice message but nothing overtly Christian, it was ironic that I found myself listening to that CD over and over.

That sense of irony stayed with me on Saturday night when Rowena picked me up. She definitely looked desirable in a red blouse. It hung loosely over leather trousers and was cinched at the waist with a wide leather belt. She took a moment or two to look over my black shirt and jeans before pulling away from the kerb.

"You look nice."

What did that even mean? Was she being sarcastic or did she mean it?

Jenny turned out to be a real riot, she's a teacher with a dry sense of humour. Rowena called her the queen of the one liners. Jenny had always identified as gay but Kylie had only come out some eighteen months ago when she responded to a Tinder like. It was clear that Rowena doted on her older cousin and that left me exchanging pleasantries with Kylie.

"It just made sense," she mused, "she's there for me but she lives in her own house, there's no pressure to get married or even set up house together."

"But what if you did?" Rowena asked her.

"We'll cross that bridge if we ever come to it," Jenny raised her glass of Bundy and Coke, "here's mud in your eye."

We got to meet the manager that night and Rowena gave him a demo CD.

"I don't know if he'll listen to it," she frowned as we drove away, "but the way I figure it, we've got to get out there and start playing for real. Right now we're doing Christian gigs but this is where it all happens. If you're good they'll cheer and dance, but if you're crap they'll boo and throw drinks at you," she changed gear.

"Don't get me wrong, Christian gigs are good because there are so few decent Christian bands out there doing this kind of stuff but because of that they're all over us like a rash. We could get out on stage with our guitars out of tune and they'd still cheer. This is where the pedal meets the metal, it's real and it's visceral."

I didn't expect her to come in when we got back to my joint but when I asked she merely shrugged.

"Of course, just don't show me your red room."

"Ha ha, I share with another woman and the other room is just a junk room."

"Is she?"

"Nah, she's as straight as a die but she's at her boyfriend's joint this weekend, as usual."

"So, it's just you and me," she grinned as I opened the door.

"Yeah, pretty much, and the cat," I nodded at our tabby, Sam, "he's Melanie's cat."

Sam was sitting like a boss on top of the couch and his tail twitched when I closed the door.

"Very homely," Rowena looked around, "it's so quiet too."

"A lot quieter than the last place I was in," I replied, "I lived on Maroondah highway for eighteen months and this place was like escaping to the country even though it's suburbia."

"My parents are out in Warrandyte," she replied, "I keep saying I'll move out but whenever I get an offer to move it's always with someone I'd rather keep my distance from."

"You got a boyfriend?"

"Me? Not likely," she grinned, "I've had a few offers over the years but apart from Jeff back in youth group there's been nobody."

"Jeff as in the same Jeff?"

"Yeah," she followed me into the kitchen, "he and I were quite the thing and I thought for sure we'd be married when I turned eighteen and then I turned eighteen and he went to university and so I put it forward to twenty one."

"So, what happened?"

"We broke up," she shrugged, "one night I just looked at him when I was up on stage doing a sound check and realised that if we followed through with our plans I was going to have to give all this up and become a wife and mother. Jeff was generally supportive but he was never that keen on me being up there with all the guys. Not that he's insanely jealous, just very protective and while that was fine when I was seventeen, by the time I was eighteen and a half I had my licence and I was doing a Tafe course, and fronting a band," she flicked at her hair and propped against the bench as I started putting coffee into the cups.

"Jeff likes obedient, pliant women."

"So that's why he called you about me?"

"Pretty much," she replied, "it was all concern because a gay woman had mentioned his ex, I got that but I also needed to lay down the boundary between us."

"Hey, that's cool," I shrugged.

"Good," she kicked me gently, "because I had a great time tonight."

That next six weeks were perhaps the most interesting and somewhat troubling I'd experienced in years. There was a part of me that felt as if I was fooling myself because Rowena had laid down the boundary and I was staying on my side of it but was I just hoping she'd change or had I come to some sort of acceptance? My gay friends certainly thought I was chasing rainbows and I found myself in the unusual position of defending her straight orientation and dug my heels in.

Initially my excuse was that I had a job to do, designing a flyer but once I'd done that I set out to redesign their website and somewhere along the line the guys in the band discovered that their graphic designer/web designer was gay. I really thought they'd back off or politely show me the door but instead they seemed cool with the idea.

My next move was even more dramatic when I started helping them load their gear into a couple of gigs, a twenty first birthday and an eighteenth. After that I learned how to work the mixing desk but even so it still felt kind of strange to walk into a dressing room and find them all praying, the first time I turned bright red but Rowena reassured me that I was welcome to stay if I wanted.

"We're not embarrassed by our faith and you shouldn't be embarrassed to stick around."

"I just don't know what to say," I glanced over at her.

"Who says you have to say anything? Sometimes I just sit and meditate on a bible verse or whatever comes to mind. Prayer meetings can be a bit of a circus at times, there's always some guru who wants to preach to others through the medium of prayer."

"Is that even allowed?"

"Well there's no rules against it but I find it distracting, your relationship to Jesus is personal, it's nobody's business to be honest but there are those in the church who want to shepherd everyone into thinking like them."

It was a strange conversation to be having on our way to the pub and I said as much at the time, much to her amusement and now I have to talk about the 'deal' we had because while I seemed to be settling into her world, it was a different matter in my world.

It's been said that women are jealous of other women, particularly when these women are friends with their partners. This becomes even more toxic when it comes to lesbian couples for obvious reasons, because saying it's okay she's straight might not work all the time. I was approached by women because we stood out, I was the obvious lesbian and Rowena came across as being my girlfriend, despite our arrangement to pass her off as my cousin. We had mixed reactions to that and while a few came onto me the rest seemed more interested in Rowena.

And that brings me to Belinda.

Belinda had gone to the same school as Rowena, they were the same age but according to Rowena they weren't that close. We bumped into them out at the Pier Hotel in Frankston, a pub that was probably aiming too high for a band just starting out but what the hell, we had to try. What was obvious to me right away was the fact that Belinda was gay and that was before she made her way over our table. She was dancing with a woman who was just out for a good time, but she didn't want that kind of good time. Rowena saw her first and straightened up, a moment later their eyes met and she shifted closer to me.

"Put your arm around me," she shouted in my ear due to the fact the music was ear-splitting, "I'll be your girlfriend tonight."

I looked at Belinda, who was making her way over to our table and dropped my arm around her, she leaned into me and put her hand on my leg just as Belinda dropped into the seat opposite us.

"Hey, babe," she shouted, "fancy meeting you here."

"Belinda," Rowena shouted back, "likewise," she glanced at me, "this is my friend, Linda."

"Friend?" Belinda's eyes shifted, "when did you come out?"

"I haven't," she snuggled even closer, "she's my lesbian friend."

"Okay," Belinda studied us for a moment, "if you say so."

Belinda stayed at our table for a good hour or so and gradually Rowena and I moved further apart but every now and then she shot me one of those looks and touched my leg or arm. Belinda noticed that of course and when we finally decided to hit the road Rowena excused herself to go talk to the manager. That left me alone with Belinda and I was feeling somewhat self assured as she plied me with stories about Rowena.

She admitted that she'd had quite a thing for Rowena, and her feelings had only increased after Rowena came out as a Christian. As far as Belinda was concerned it just made her more alluring and so she'd doubled down in her attempts to 'convert' her.

"She always struck me as being the curious type," she finally admitted, "it's like she sits on the edge and just takes it all in but you never know if she's going to jump in. She only ever had one serious boyfriend in high school."

"Jeff," I replied.

"Yeah he was the one she went out with to get rid of Dirty Damien."

"Who was he?"

"Dirty Damien was working his way through all the girls, most of them turned him down because he had an aversion to soap and water but Rowena took pity on him and tried to be his friend," she raised her drink in salute.

"Hats off to her but the dirt went all the way to his mind, she had to put out definite signals that she wasn't up for it and that's where Jeff came to the rescue. At first it was just for show but then they got more serious and he became her first real boyfriend."

She paused and was about to tell me more when I kicked her gently under the table, Rowena was on her way back and she had a grin on her face.

"We've got a slot in two weeks, it's only fifteen minutes and we're playing in front of a manager and someone else but she seems quite keen to look at new talent."

Her eyes shifted slightly and I had the distinct impression she'd already worked out what we'd been talking about and that was confirmed some twenty minutes later as we headed out of Frankston.

"What did she tell you about me?"

"Um," I glanced at her as she changed gear, "she told me about Dirty Damien."

"Now that's a blast from the past," she winced, "he and I never got past the kissing stage, we were kind of going out together but when he wanted to take things further I had a sudden change of heart and went out with Jeff."

"That's pretty much what Belinda said," I replied.

"But what Belinda doesn't know that if she'd just tried a little harder I might have gone out with her instead."

It took a few moments for that to sink in because I was busy updating my Twitter but then I looked over at her and she grinned.

"Admittedly it was a passing crush, all of three weeks, more or less but then she went out with someone else and I went with Jeff," she shifted in her seat.

"It was a confusing time for me, I mean I liked her, I liked her a lot but I wasn't sure if I wanted to go that far with her, but to be honest if she'd taken the lead I would probably have followed and who knows where I would be now."