Finding Tranquility Page 6

  As the door swung shut behind us, a voice rang out. “Hey, queers, you’re using the wrong bathroom! That one’s for ladies.”

  Thankfully, no one else stood in the restroom to overhear the comment. I leaned back against the counter, gasping for air.

  Humiliation flooded me. I squeezed my eyes shut until cool hands touched my face.

  “Hey, girl,” Nina said. “Look at me. Look at Nina.”

  I shook my head miserably. Maybe this had been a horrible mistake. So what if I finally felt like myself? The rest of the world saw me as a joke.

  “What was I thinking?” I moaned.

  “You were thinking you can’t live your whole life based on other people’s prejudices. You did that for twenty-something years, right? It’s time to live for you. Not the rest of the world. And you are a beautiful, strong woman, inside and out. You can handle this, and you can handle all the obstacles on the road ahead.”

  I forced a weak smile to my lips. “Thanks.”

  Finally, she managed to talk me into leaving the bathroom so we could head out. The night had been a bust, but there was no need to make it worse by hiding in a dingy bathroom. I held open the door for her.

  “No way.” Nina shook her head. “You first. That way, I can put my foot up your ass if you try to run back in here and hide.”

  “Ok, fine.” I threw back the rest of my drink, then grabbed hers. “Liquid courage, right?”

  When she continued to glare at me, finally I moved back into the bar, head down.

  Dynamite exploded across my cheek, igniting a fire behind my eye socket. In my surprise, the empty glass still in my hand crashed to the ground. Pain stabbed my calf as a shard bounced off the floor, into my leg. Less than a second later, a fist rammed my stomach, knocking the breath out of me. The asshole caught me off guard instead of just walking up and hitting me like a decent person. He reeled back, preparing to deliver another blow. Just in time, I ducked and side-stepped. My left arm swung upward toward the space where he’d stood.

  Not only was this guy a piece of shit, he was overconfident. Wearing women’s clothing didn’t mean I’d never been in a fight. I grew up with an older brother, played football in high school. I knew how to hit and be hit. Working at Tranquility had made me strong. My fist connected squarely with my attacker’s jaw, sending him reeling into the bar.

  “Hey, hey! That’s enough!” The bartender rang a triangle over the bar repeatedly. “No fights in my bar. All of you, out of here, before I call the cops.”

  To the left of the bathroom door, I spotted Nina, lying on the ground, holding one hand to her bleeding lip. I went to her and crouched on the sticky, peanut-covered floor. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. Just help me up so we can get the fuck out of here.”

  “Ladies! Out!” The bartender said behind me.

  “We’re going!” I yelled, before muttering, “Asshole.”

  Nina was taller than me, but thin. She didn’t weigh much. I wrapped one arm around her back and another under her knees, cradling her to my chest. No one offered to help.

  We left a silent room in our wake. A drop of moisture flowed down the outside of my lips. Until the copper taste hit my tongue, I hadn’t realized I was bleeding.

  Once we made it outside, I stopped. The rain hadn’t let up since we entered, and our umbrella now sat on a table on the other side of at least half a dozen hostile Vermonsters.

  “Can you walk?” I asked Nina.

  “I think so. Dropped my lipstick when I fell, but I’m okay. Put me down.”

  With Nina’s right arm draped across my shoulder, and my left arm wrapped around her waist, we limped toward the waiting car. We’d made it exactly four steps before something slammed into the small of my back. I stumbled, dropping Nina a split second before my knees cracked onto the ground.

  “Get up, faggot!”

  I didn’t know if the unseen attacker spoke to me or Nina, but it didn’t matter. I turned and lunged, silently thanking my parents for pushing me toward football for the first time in my life. Even in a dress, I knew how to tackle. My arms wrapped around the guy’s shins, and he toppled. It was the guy from inside. Trent, someone had called him. He swore, and I rammed my fist into his perfect face, feeling his teeth smash.

  Beside me, Nina pushed herself to her feet. The lights from the bar showed a shadow moving up behind her.

  “Nina, look out!”

  If she heard me, she didn’t have time to react. She hadn’t managed to turn around before the long-haired one punched her in the kidneys. She stumbled forward.

  A fist impacted with my head, taking my attention away from my friend. The world faded away until Nina’s screams cut through the grunting and flying fists. A burst of anger gave me the strength to shove Trent off me. I rolled to my feet, squinting through the downpour until I spotted my friend.

  She lay face down on the ground, several feet away. Long Hair straddled her, one hand pushing her head into the ground while the other moved to raise her skirt. Beneath him, Nina twisted, rolled, kicked, and clawed at the slick pavement, trying anything to get away.

  “Stop fighting!” Long Hair yelled. “You wanted to be a woman, right? This is what it means to be a woman.”

  His fingers gripped her wig, pulled back, and slammed her face into the ground. Nina’s nose hit the ground with a sickening crack. When her attacker released his hand, her head lolled to one side.

  Chapter 7

  “No!” The sound escaping me was less a scream, more the sound of agony personified. “Nina!”

  With the superhuman strength that allows mothers to move cars off children, I shoved my attacker, sending him stumbling back toward the dumpster. I ran toward Nina. She hadn’t moved since her nose crunched into the pavement.

  Sirens interrupted the silence.

  “Man, let’s go. Let’s go!” One of the guys said. Trent, maybe. The other kicked me, and I moaned. “Chet, police! LET’S GO.”

  Chet must be Long Hair. He stopped, foot poised to kick again, as he finally noticed the approaching sirens. Then he rolled Nina onto her back. “Oh, fuck. I think he’s dead.”

  The words sliced into my heart. Not Nina. She couldn’t be…She was so vibrant, so full of life. The wind rushed out of me as if they’d kicked me in the gut. I couldn’t breathe.

  I fell to the ground with a wail, not caring if they killed me, too. A wad of spittle landed on my face; I didn’t see who sent it. It didn’t matter. The rain washed it away in a heartbeat. Just like my best friend’s life. Footsteps receded across the parking lot. An engine roared, tires squealed, and they were gone.

  Nina lay a few feet away. I scrambled to her on my knees, needing to see for myself if what they said was true. Her eyes were shut, but a pulse beat in her neck. Her breathing was slow, yet steady. Not dead, just knocked out. Thank all the gods that ever walked this earth. Not knowing what else to do, I sat back and held her hand. The sirens grew louder.

  The fall had mussed her wig. I adjusted the red locks, ignoring the pain that exploded in my chest when I moved my arms. My fingers combined through the strands, arranging them around her face. She looked like an angel. An angel with smudged lipstick. I didn’t have a purse, so I dug in hers until I found a bright red tube. Fire engine red, for Nina Wun-Wun. One last emergency before she retired the look.

  With my thumb, I removed the streak across her chin. Then I dabbed the tube against her lips, stroking back and forth until she looked as beautiful as when we left home.

  There, perfect. My perfect friend. What if she never woke up? The world around me blurred, faded away. I collapsed against Nina’s chest, tears and rain mingling until it was impossible to know where one began and the other ended.

  A police car stopped on the pavement nearby. I didn’t look up. A second later, flashing lights entered my peripheral vision. An ambulance screeched to a halt. Doors slammed.

  “Are you hurt, ma’am?” A man’
s voice spoke at my ear. A paramedic crouched beside us.

  Wordlessly, I nodded. I didn’t move.

  “We need to look at your friend. We can’t do that unless you stand up. Can you do that, or should I get someone to carry you?”

  My legs wouldn’t hold me. I managed to crawl a few feet away and sit, legs splayed, watching rain patter into a nearby puddle. Beside the puddle stood a red six-inch platform heel filling with water. The sight startled me out of my reverie, and I grabbed it.

  “Wait!”

  Two police officers and three paramedics looked up from where they were loading Nina’s stretcher into the back of the ambulance. The flurry of activity and my limited knowledge of medical television shows told me they were stabilizing her. I prayed it wasn’t too late.

  One bare foot poked through the open back door, reminding me what I held in one hand. When Nina woke up, she’d be pissed if to find one of her favorite heels missing.

  “She lost her shoe. She needs her shoe.”

  One of them patted my arm. “I don’t think she needs shoes right now, sweetheart. You can bring them to the hospital to her later.”

  “NO! She needs her shoe. Nina never goes anywhere without her shoes. Make sure—” A sob cut off my words. My shoulders heaved.

  One of the female paramedics wrapped an arm around my back. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll make sure your friend gets her shoe back.” She took it from me, handed the heel to one of the policemen. “Now, let’s go get you checked out, okay? You’re pretty banged up, too.”

  Unable to speak, I nodded.

  “Where does it hurt?”

  Vaguely, I gestured up and down my entire body. My knees gave way, but another paramedic appeared at my other side, and the two of them held me upright. Seconds later, a stretcher appeared behind me. They helped me sit, then lie back.

  The moment my head touched the pillow, I closed my eyes and willed the whole world to fade away.

  When I came to in the hospital, two police officers asked me questions while a couple of doctors poked and prodded at me. I answered woodenly, the questions barely penetrating the fog of my brain. I couldn’t begin to guess whether they got anything useful, but they eventually left.

  The driver’s license bearing the name Brett Cooper lay in the Charles River, never to be seen again. The wig I’d borrowed from Nina got lost somewhere between the first punch and the hospital. I couldn’t remember the last time I had it. Plus, the doctors had probably checked me thoroughly enough to discover my junk. Instead of telling them my name was Christa, which seemed like a bad idea under the circumstances, I went with Chris.

  “Do you have ID, Chris?” A police officer stood on one side, a nurse on the other. I didn’t see which of them asked the question.

  I shook my head. “The bar didn’t ask for ID.”

  The officer wrote that down. I wondered if the bartender would get in trouble. Not that it mattered.

  “Do you live around here?” the nurse asked.

  “I’m staying at the Tranquility Cooperative Bed and Breakfast. Just passing through the area.” I gave the address, but failed to mention that I’d ‘passed through’ weeks earlier and had no idea where to go next. Before Nina hit the ground, I hadn’t been planning to move on until my hair grew out and we figured out how to grow some all-natural female hormone supplements. But I wasn’t safe here anymore. Neither was Bo.

  The doctors wouldn’t tell me much about Bo since I wasn’t family, but he still lived and breathed. They didn’t know how long, and they wouldn’t let me see him for at least a few days without consent from a family member. Considering what Bo had said about his parents, they wouldn’t be happy to see me when they arrived. It was better for everyone if I made myself scarce. After speaking with the doctor again, I checked myself out of the hospital. I’d gotten a bit banged up, but I’d be fine.

  Not knowing what else to do, I called Henny from the pay phone in the lobby. Then I sat inside the doors, shivering but not from the cold, trying not to think about Nina. Tears ran down my face. She was going to be okay. She had to be okay. A nurse sat beside me, holding my hand for as long as she could, but eventually went back to work. I didn’t mind. Being alone suited my dark mood.

  The Tranquility van arrived ten minutes later, screeching to a halt at the red curb that was supposed to be reserved for emergency vehicles. Henny tumbled out the front passenger door before Val even turned off the engine. I went through the doors and fell into her arms without a sound.

  “Oh, honey,” she said, wrapping her arms around me. “I’m so sorry. She’s going to get better. Don’t you fret.”

  Val looked as shell-shocked as I felt. She went through the motions as if she knew she’d break down the moment she stopped. I found it strangely comforting the way she checked me over as if the doctors might have missed something, bundled me into the car, and took off within seconds after pulling up.

  Once we were moving, I buried my head in my hands and sobbed. I hadn’t said a word since they arrived. Dimly, I felt the car turn out of the parking lot, heard Val tell me we were going home, but I didn’t care where we went. I couldn’t care about anything anymore. My home wasn’t safe, and my best friend in the world was dying.

  It was all my fault. We never would’ve gone to the bar if she hadn’t been helping me live as a woman, to find out if that was what I wanted.

  Then I sat up straight, realizing another reason I wasn’t safe going home. “I can’t go back to Tranquility. Police. Reporters. Big news. I can’t.”

  “It’ll be fine,” Henny said. “You’ll do a couple of news stories…” Val shot her a look across the front seat, and she stopped talking.

  “I can’t go on the news. No one can see me.” Silently, I begged them not to ask questions. I couldn’t tell them who I was, what circumstances brought me to Vermont. Couldn’t risk them turning me in after everything. Faking your own death seemed like one of those things that was probably illegal, but I didn’t want to find out.

  Val said, “No problem. We see a lot of people around these parts who prefer to keep to themselves. Our job is to help them on their way to their final destinations. We’ve learned not to pry. Your business is your business.”

  Henny twisted around in her seat. “We hate to see you go. You’re one of our best workers. You’re part of the family now. But we understand. Tranquility will be a hive of activity until something else interesting happens around here.”

  My brain still wasn’t working right. Thoughts tumbled around like socks in a dryer. “Where? How?”

  Val said, “There’s a ton of makeup still in Bo’s room, and lots of wigs. I’m sure he’d understand if you take a couple of things to get yourself started. Send us your address when you get settled, and you can pay him back.”

  I nodded. It seemed wrong to take my friend’s things while he was unconscious, not knowing if he’d ever wake up. At the same time, I couldn’t stay here another minute. Val and Henny would keep me posted about his condition. There wasn’t any other way, not right now.

  “Henny will teach you how to put your face on. No one will recognize you when we’re finished.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Losing at least twenty pounds since 9/11, getting a tan, and shaving my beard did wonders to change my appearance, too, but a little insurance never hurt. Learning to put on makeup was more than that, though. If I didn’t continue down the path I started, if I put aside the wigs and the makeup and the clothes and went back to being “Chris” or worse, Brett, then all of the pain I caused my family was for nothing.

  “You can take Bo’s car, too,” Henny said. “Drive into New York, then take I-87 up toward Canada. Leave the car in a rest stop this side of the border with the keys under the front seat, and we’ll go pick it up in a couple of days if he’s not awake yet.”

  I gulped. In the hospital, I overheard a nurse say that if he didn’t wake up in a few days, he probably wouldn’t.
But then the rest of her statement sunk in.

  “The border?”

  “Yeah. Canada,” she repeated. “Start over where no one knows you. We’ll stock you up on herbal supplements and estrogen pills before you go. People are always leaving pills behind. We’ve got a drawer full of birth control in our bedroom. You can find a doctor in Montreal.”

  My hopes rose when I told them about the passport in my bag, then plummeted. “I have no keys for the car, no money, and no other way to get to Canada without hitchhiking.”

  “Did she leave the keys on the rear tire before going into the bar?” Henny asked.

  When we first got out of the car, Nina had bent down for a minute to adjust her shoe. She did that a lot, but I never thought much about it. Shoes needed adjusting, right? But maybe she had a hiding spot. There certainly hadn’t been any place to store keys in the dress she’d been wearing.

  “Maybe. I’ll have to check.”

  “For now, let’s assume you’ll have the keys,” Val said.

  “Am I really going to try to cross the border using someone else’s passport? Isn’t that illegal?”

  Henny reached back, squeezed my hand where it rested on the seat. “Desperate times call for desperate measures. Crossing the border won’t be a problem. You’re white, you’re young, and you’re headed into Canada, so no one will look too closely. I’ll do what I can to help you look more like the photograph, and we’ll get you some jewelry and sunglasses to complete the look. You’ll be fine.”

  Just like that, I had my new life all planned out.

  ∞ ♡ ∞

  My plans to disappear immediately evaporated when police tape and media vans prevented us from getting into the bar parking lot to retrieve Bo’s car. After I hid in my room at Tranquility pretending not to exist for a few days, the reporters moved on to a bigger story. Once my taped ribs didn’t ache so much, I returned to the bar in the light of day. If possible, it looked even more run-down, less inviting than it had before. A lump rose in my throat, and I refused to let myself look at the stains on the sidewalk near the door. Bo still hadn’t woken up. I hated this place with every fiber of my being, and every second spent thinking about why just meant being here longer. It was time to get going.