I leaned a little heavier on my Haan

     “Give me your belt, bitch!” Mother yelled over to me.  My eyes zoomed from my midget, who was passed out cold at my feet — a little spit drooled out of his mouth, but no blood, thank the Lord — to Mother and her struggling red-neck whose rage had turned to pleading for Mother not to fuck him up the butt.  ( HIS exact words...)   She’d rolled him over and was straddling his backside ( in her sequin cocktail dress  —  tags flapping in her armpit  — and what was left of her Sheer Energy's which looked more like a spider web than panty hose because of all the runs caused  from all those Karate kicks, I figured) and holding his hands behind his back, so I almost understood his pleas...........but I also thought at the same time, that straight men are so presumptuous and always think we want to pork every one of them.  Lord, someone needs to tell them that they aren't God's gift to gaykind.  Some of us do have some standards....even Mother.

     “I said give me your damn belt before he gets loose!!” her insistence shook me from my stupor, and I yanked off my braided leather belt ((( which was quite trendy at the time...we even made sure they dangled in front of our crotches, so we had to buy them extra long.  It was terribly phallic and probably the reason it was so popular in the gay subculture.)))  I ran to her and quickly complied.
     "Please, Please don't rape me," the idiot bellowed.  "I give really good head, ask James Leroy."  Now, I got the impression that he wanted an excuse to demonstrate his fellatio techniques,but it was only suspicion..and I didn't know who this James Leroy was for sure..but I had the distinct feeling that he was the midget who was passed out and drooling on the asphalt.  Apparently, these boys were closer than they would normally admit.
     With a couple of ounces of effort, the struggling scarecrow, raised his face up and looked right into my eyes and said, "You're going to hell, you pervert.  God hates you!"  His words pierced me and stung, and brought back an ocean of memories that flooded my mind and paralyzed me with thoughts for a few seconds.  

     “Hold his head down with your foot, and smash his face in the  ground.  I'm tired of hearing his mouth,” Mother panted as she wrapped up his hands.  I looked at her with deep question marks in my irises. But, I didn't move.  For just a few seconds, I remembered when I had thought like he did, but I hadn't committed mutiny to the Lord.  I'd just decided to be honest and be me, and now, this self-appointed messenger of the Lord had come here to spread the Gospel with his disciple, the midget.  He was thoroughly convinced that harassing us, intimidating us, calling us names and even throwing eggs at us were sanctioned by Jesus, even though he did the same thing we did in secret with  James Leroy.
     “Don’t be a fucking pansy now, just do it!” Mother cried even loud and brought me to the situation at hand ….Timidly, I placed  my right Cole Haan on the back of his wiggling head and tried not to hurt him.  
     “Smash it, or the turd will get loose..and HURT him.  Don’t be a pussy.  He would have killed you if given the chance,” Mother yelled between breaths, and I knew she was right.  If the tables had been turned, and if Mother hadn't been a closet Karate expert, I might have been lying where the red-neck was... so I smashed... and I smashed hard.  Truly, the enormity of the situation hadn't struck me until that moment.
      His yelps were muffled by the blacktop and he spit and sputtered and begged.  He offered to perform oral services more times than I could count all the while interspersing those offers with threats of hellfire and damnation, but it was kind of funny to watch him squirm.  We certainly didn’t ask for them to accost us; we were just trying to turn the lights on….but the lights still didn’t shine and Jennifer Holliday had grown silent.  I had to wonder just what SiAra was doing in there.  The lights had flashed off and on multiple times, so she’d obviously found the switch, but they were off now, and no sound came from within the clap-board fence which was more like a roofless shed against the back wall of the bar. It was as dark and quiet as a tomb. What was SiAra doing in there? 

    I guess the red-neck grew weary of wiggling and figured out that we had no intentions of deflowering him because he relaxed a little and only released puffs of loud moans intermittently. If someone would have glanced over and heard the sounds, they would have sworn that a wigless drag queen was being quite anal with this red-neck, but we didn't think about that at the time....so Mother straddled him, and I smashed his head.  He wasn’t going anywhere.  I glanced over at Kerry, and he had followed Mother’s example and had flipped over the midget and lassoed his hands with his belt ( which, of course, was the same as mine...I told you they were the trend then).  The midget snoozed away like he was on a Serta Perfect Sleeper rather than on the cold, hard black top.  The idea that he was playing opossum ran through my mind, but it was quickly replaced by my wonderment at what we were going to do with these two holy basher-wannabes.  Just then,  I heard a car driving behind the bar and coming up the narrow stretch of drive-way where we had subdued our villains.  Mother looked up and saw it first, and then I saw the beams from the head lights slowly creeping up beside me.  I was afraid to turn around and possibly lose my footing, but I was also aware that these bashers might have had friends who were late arrivals.

     “Oh God, it’s the cops,” Mother said.  Honestly, I was relieved that the police had shown up but the sound in Mother’s voice told me that their appearance was not good news. 
     “Let me do all the talking, and pray that I know them,” she instructed Kerry and me.  I heard the engine turn off and a car door open. The headlights provided ample light for me to notice that the red-neck's hair was greasy and matted.  I was going to have to clean my shoes after all this ends, I thought to myself...but his Jeans and leather jacket were tattered and torn. Part of me realized that he was poor and disheveled..and you know, stupid me, felt a little sorry for him...just a little, so I let off my foot some......

     “Mother, get off of him, “ I heard a female voice demand.

     “Nope,” Mother said, but there was relief in her “nope”, so I knew that we weren’t going to jail for defending ourselves.  Then, I heard the door slam and footsteps…..The mouth under the head that I crushed with my foot started begging for help and uttered some more things about butt sex, pig squealing, fat ladies, Chinese  perverts, Jesus and hell.  He uttered fag in there somewhere too, and I wanted to remind the red-neck that he’d offered to perform fellatio on me less than two minutes prior and had confessed to his oral prowess on James Leroy, but I restrained myself....... Instead, I leaned a little heavier on my Haan.