I drove quickly home in hopes of finding Bart lounged on my velveteen sofa atop the women at the well and gristmill prints, but that didn't happen. I contemplated waiting for him, but since I didn't even know his whereabouts, I changed my mind and showered because I was going to have a good time tonight. I deserved it. I was almost glad that Bart hadn't given me his phone number in Arkadelphia because I knew I would have called him...I had a little ache in my heart, and I was worried about his physical well-being since Eugenie had told me about his scuffle with Mother even though he had looked perfectly fine when I'd seen him walking through the mall with the ex -- when I'd fallen to pieces after the ice cream slide......... But, he hadn't bothered to call me or stop by AND he'd ignored me as he walked right past me, and I didn't know if I'd ever hear from him again.
I was, after all, a single gay boy in a new town...........Like Mother and Cora, I was feeling the call of the wild, but my approach would be a tad bit more civilized than their Central Avenue sin-capade. There was a guy in Hot Springs with my name tattooed on his butt, and I was going to find him. (( Okay, I know you have had this feeling before,too....so don't raise your eyebrows at me. I'm human, just like you are. Hell, I was in love with Bart, and I'd finally accepted it. I was feeling rejected by him, so I was going to find a self-esteem boost one way or another...but I'd never stoop to do it.....I still had standards no matter how low my feelings about myself had plumetted............AND this just might teach Bart a lesson....He couldn't just expect me to stay at home and pine away for him. IF he did stop by my apartment and not find me there, HE could worry about where I was, what I was doing....and WHO i was doing........I knew I wouldn't DO anyone else, but Bart didn't..AND that is what mattered)).
I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror as I blow-dried my hair, and I felt a little Cher coming on.........I'd been feeling my Indian heritage lately, so I decided that a little Half-breed was what I needed. I grabbed my hair brush ( the one with the pink handle and bristles going all around it ) and blasted my boom box. I imagined a huge Cherokee War Bonnet with Eagle feathers draping behind me on the floor like the train of an Indian Princess' wedding dress, and I did a little Rain Dance in my reflection..I looked down my svelte body and saw only a tan,suede tube top with a matching mini-mini...I had the body to show off my tanned, bare midriff and long slender legs..............Hell, in my mind, I could have given the real Cher a run for her money.......As I lip synched ( and tongued my upper lip) into my hairbrush/microphone, I could definitely identify with the words of the song. The part about the family being ashamed of the half-breed certainly hit home............. Granted, it wasn't one of Cher's best songs, but it sufficed for the time being, and by the time I'd finished the vintage song from the '70s (( and curtsied to three imaginary standing ovations...I even squinted because the stage lights I imagined blinded me... )), I'd determined that I certainly was not going to run away from what I was (( A gay boy, alone AGAIN....)). This Cherokee was going to shake his tail feather tonight, and nothing was going to get in his way.
When the song and my fantasy ended, I checked my real appearance in the mirror once more before I stepped out into the chill December air. Yeah, I looked good. The jeans were tight enough in all the right places, but I still didn't look like a 3 dollar whore, the red Polo shirt showed just enough of my pecs to evoke curiosity, and my braided leather belt fell exactly where it should......The hair was gelled to perfection.......... Yeah, I told myself, I'd do me................. I'd read in Seventeen Magazine (( yeah, gay boys read that mag, too )) that if you look in the mirror and tell yourself positive things about yourself that you'd eventually start believing them..................so I was convinced that I was IT...for the evening anyway............. I wondered how long it would last because I knew that just below the surface lurked a broken heart and rumpled self-esteem, but I'd never tell anyone that...........................
As I shut my door behind me, I sang quietly, "Give her a feather, She's a Cherokee."
Just for tonight, I'd take a little Cher with me.................
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