Heteroflexibility (21 page)

“Like hell I’m going to put up with this!” said Blitz, and before we could stop her, she had flung the door open, knocking the protestors back, and hurtled out.

“You get ‘em, Blitz!” Krieg screamed, stumbling in her flowy pants as she fell out of the limo.

Nikki scrambled out next, then turned back to me. “Looks like you’re going to get more than you bargained for.”

I had a split second to decide to part with my mega camera bag, which held my back up camera and extra lenses, as well as the tripod. I ripped the smaller inset bag, with spare cards and batteries, out of it, slinging it over my arm as I leapt out the door and took off after Blitz, Krieg, and Nikki.

Blitz was no small woman at five-ten and a good two hundred pounds, mostly muscle. She already had her hands on the ladder, glaring up at the minister as if deciding whether to shake him off it or carry the whole lot and dump it in the bay. I knelt in the grass, madly shooting frame after frame, the sunlight pouring from behind his head, leaving his purple bellowing face in shadow.

He pointed his megaphone down at her and shouted, “Sinners, behold the hour of your judgment!”

At that, Blitz gave the ladder a mighty push. The protestors scattered as it began to tilt. At the last second, the man jumped off and the metal frame crashed to the ground.

“Oh good God,” Mary said, rushing up and grabbing Blitz by the arm. “We’re going to get arrested.”

Krieg grabbed Mary’s hand and flung it away, wrapping herself around Blitz. “You do whatever you think is right.”

The minister had gathered the crowd around him. “Let’s pray! Pray for the souls of the wayward sinners. Let them see the healing light of Jesus, our Lord and Master, may he enter their hearts and souls, and save them from the fiery pit of hell!”

The men and women began to kneel, some clasping their hands to their chests or foreheads, laying their signs on the ground. A chorus of “Praise, Jesus,” and “Hear our prayer,” started softly, then grew into a chant.

I zoomed in on their faces, on Blitz, standing stiff and angry, surrounded by the white silk of Krieg’s flowing sleeves. Then Mary, off to one side, red-faced and crying. The others must have remained behind me, but I didn’t take my eye away from the camera to see, scooting forward, still low to the ground, trying to remain unobtrusive.

Mary strode forward. She still held her bouquet, the ribbons loose. It must have begun unraveling in the scuffle with Blitz and Krieg. She stopped before the minister, then flung the flowers at his face.

“Shut up! Shut up all of you!” she shouted to the crowd, who began to quiet. She pointed to the minister. “How can you call yourselves Christian?” she said. “How can you claim to followers of Christ when you sit here in a position of judgment?”

The minister held out a hand, and a white-haired woman passed him a Bible. He opened it to a place marked with a red ribbon. I snapped a quick shot of the open book cradled in his knotted arthritic fingers.

He raised one hand into the air. “Leviticus 18, verse 22! Do not practice homosexuality! It is a detestable sin.”

Blitz snorted. “I had a feeling he was going to pull that one out.”

“Back up three verses, Leviticus 18, verse 19,” Mary said, her voice practically a snarl.

The minister’s face bloomed red. “Leviticus is very clear on the matter of aberrant sexuality! Incest! Adultery! Bestiality!”

Mary crossed her arms across her chest. “Verse 19. Do not have sexual relations with a woman during her period of menstrual impurity.”

“Aberrant sexuality!”

“You really believe that?” Mary shouted now. “That having sex with your wife on the rag is a sin?”

The minister closed the Bible and held it to the sky. “Pray with me!”

Mary grabbed him by the collar. “I will not pray with you. The word homosexuality didn’t even exist when Leviticus was written. Or Corinthians. Or Timothy, or any of the other clobber passages you might have marked in your book, our book, my book too.”

The Bible wavered at the end of his arm. “DEAR HEAVENLY FATHER!”

Mary twisted the collar in her grip. “I do believe,
reverend
, that we talk to the same heavenly father. And I also believe that Jesus, if we love the same Jesus, healed lepers and blessed the outcasts. That he told us to love the Samaritans and didn’t even judge a woman who was guilty of adultery. I don’t think when he names us children of God, he starts excluding people on the basis of anything other than the greatest commandment.”

She pulled him closer, her pale flushed face staring up into his blustery mottled one. “Love the Lord Your God with all your heart, with all your soul and all your mind. Luke 10:27. You know what comes next,
reverend
?”

Nikki walked up, loosened Mary’s fingers from the minister’s shirt. “I still remember that one from Sunday school a billion years ago,” she said quietly. “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

I stopped snapping frames as everyone silenced. A pair of birds swooped overhead, in and out, bumping into each other then flying apart, back and forth in a strange manic dance. Mary began to shake, then sob, and Bradford stepped forward to pull her into his arms. “That’s enough,” he said. “We’ve made our point here.”

The women shuffled slowly back to the limo. Bella, Jenna, and the Audreys stood outside the open door and slipped back in first.

I continued to photograph the crowd, then the women as they reentered the car. The protestors were huddled together, discussing something fervently. When Bradford motioned to me from inside the limo, I ran forward. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw four people also dash to their cars. I didn’t like the look of it.

“They may follow us,” I said, lunging inside. “Keep an eye out.”

We all leaned toward the windows as the limo pulled away from the curve. “Where should I go?” the driver asked. “I am not used to this.”

“Just go,” Mary said. “We’ll figure out where in a moment.”

“We can’t hesitate,” I said. Three cars were already pulling out, and a news van was coming up the street. Had they called the freaking news? They were clearly going to follow. “Too late. Don’t go to the hotel.”

“What’s the opposite of ‘follow that car?’” Nikki said. She walked, hunched over, across the compartment, and sat next to the driver’s window. “Can you lose them?”

“I can try!” He took off his cap, revealing a wild tuft of gray hair.

“I bet you’ve seen some crazy things in this job,” Nikki said.

“Actually, this is my first day,” he said.

And we careened around a corner.

Chapter 26: Road Rally

Bella let out a scream as we crunched over a median, did an ungraceful 180, and sped down the road going the other direction. We all slid into each other, flowers flying, limbs askew in white silk and taffeta. I gripped my camera.

“Oh my God, this is nuts,” Jenna said. “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry or hit something.”

“Hit Mary,” Nikki said. “She got us into this.”

Mary’s eyes were red, her makeup smeared. “How was I supposed to know this was a set up?”

 “Ladies,” Bradford said. “Divided, they conquer. Let’s figure out what to do next.”

Audrey turned in her seat to peer out the back window. “Bogies at six o’clock,” she said. “They’re limo-magnets.”

“We’re not exactly hard to spot,” Nikki said.

Blitz pounded her hand on the glass. “Fucking pink limo.”

“I don’t think any limo would exactly disappear in traffic,” Jenna said.

The driver rapped on the partition. “Should I get on freeway? I can lose them.”

“Whatever works,” Bradford muttered. “I don’t want them figuring out where we’re staying.”

“You got it,” the man said. He gunned it, rapidly changing lanes to fly up the ramp. This time we all hung on to our seats, trying to avoid smashing into each other.

“Did they make it on?” Mary asked.

“Not sure,” Audrey said. “I don’t think the black Honda did, but there was another one, something blue.”

We weaved through traffic, gripping the cushions and door handles grimly, as if starring in our own movie and handling our own stunts.

We passed signs for Mission Bay, the water appearing and disappearing as we raced down the highway. We were driving away from our hotel, without a destination, and I certainly had no suggestions about what to do next. I could barely process what all had just happened.

I flipped backward through the images on the LCD. The protesters chanting. The limo exit. The minister shaking his fist. The flowers smashing into his face. Mary crying. The ladder tipping. Blitz, red and angry. A blood red sign reading, “Marriage is sacred.”

Then into the past, last night—ocean water, fire rings, and a line of silhouettes, figures stretching out across the dark. Only as the scenes flashed by could I begin to process them, as though they hadn’t really happened until I lived through them this second time. I set the camera in my lap, remembering the pictures in the house of me and Cade, of my parents, and realized, suddenly, for the first time, far too late, that there weren’t any pictures of me and my husband from this last year, just sample shots in the studio, set designs, all photographs designed to help my business grow.

How much of my life did I live in the moment? How much did I only assess after the fact? I thumbed through the images, faster this time, and saw how quickly something wonderful can turn tragic. I shut off the LCD. I couldn’t bear it.

The women were all intent on the windows, straining to see if we were being followed.

“I think that news van is for us,” Jenna said, her fingers splayed on the glass.

The limo changed lanes and zipped forward. The news van kept pace.

“Are they filming us?” Nikki asked. “Does that one guy have a camera?”

Mary turned back to her seat, resting her head in her hands. “This is awful.”

Krieg’s dreadlocks were silhouetted against the glare outside her window. “I think we got two more behind us,” she said. “We gotta shake these crazies.”

The driver punched the gas again, swerving through lanes and at the last minute flying off an exit ramp.

“Did they get off?” Jenna asked.

“I don’t think so,” Kreig said.

We screeched through an intersection, running a red light, and turned down a street lined with hotels.

“We’ve definitely lost them for the moment,” Jenna said. “We’re the only ones on this street.”

Everyone visibly relaxed, smoothing skirts and checking bouquets. Mary wiped beneath her eyes. “I’ll fix that in a bit,” Bradford said.

Krieg continued her vigil out the back window. “Might be the news van turning onto the road,” she said. “I think he exited and circled around. Still pretty far back.”

Everyone turned back to the windows, their faces grim. “Where the hell can we blend in with a pink limo?” Nikki asked. “A car wash? Something we can hide behind?”

As we passed an enormous hotel, we all saw it at the same time. So did the driver, and instantly crossed three lanes to bump over the curb and into the parking lot.

Full of pink cars.

We drove along the rows, line after line of pale pink Cadillacs. As we got further back, the types of cars became more varied, SUVs and even a pick up truck—all still pink. On the back wall by a fence, we found four other pink limos. “Hey, those are ours,” the limo driver said. “We got a fleet of pink ones.”

“What is this?” Nikki asked. “A Pepto Bismol explosion?”

“It’s that cosmetic company. Anna Visigmilla,” Bella said.

“Did you say Vagisil?” Nikki asked.

Bella punched her arm. “No. Visigmilla.”

“I don’t wear Vagisil on my face,” Nikki said.

“Oh Nikki,” Bella said. “They must be having some sort of consultant gathering. The big wigs, looks like. You have to get people under you to earn a pink car.”

“They have people under them?” Nikki asked. “I’d like to get a gander at THAT.”

The ladies broke into wan smiles.

“The news van is slowing down!” Krieg said. “Park this sucker!”

The driver rolled the car into the line of other limos and killed the engine.

“Did it pass?” Jenna asked.

“It passed,” Krieg said.

Everyone sighed.

“So what do we do now?” Nikki asked.

Bradford kneeled on the floor before the line of brides, holding his cell phone in his palm. “We can try to find a JP.”

“Won’t happen,” Mary said. “The courthouse is closed and everyone was booked. I had the worst time trying to find the guy we got.”

The dresses rustled lightly as the women shifted around.

Bella leaned forward. “I hate to bring this up, but I really have to pee.”

“Hold it,” Blitz said.

Bella frowned, sending a concerned look at Nikki. “I’ll try.”

“Not necessary,” Nikki said. “We’ll walk in there like we own the place.”

I looked out at the hotel. It was a short sprint to a set of side doors. “We can make it in,” I said. “Plus, there might be a bar.”

Everyone murmured in agreement on that one. The driver hopped out and opened the door. We filed out of the limo and hurried across the pavement, not stopping until we were safely inside the carpeted hallway by the meeting rooms.

The place was an explosion of pink. Balloons, streamers, glossy pamphlets and folders. A line of rose-colored badges lay spread out on a wide table. But the corridor was otherwise empty. We could faintly hear a speaker talking over a sound system in the grand ballroom.

“There’s the bathroom ahead,” Nikki said. “Let’s go.” She glanced at Jenna, still clutching Butch. “Don’t get caught with that dog, or they’ll throw us out.”

As if on cue, a perfectly coiffed and suited woman emerged through a door. She saw us and hurried forward. “You’re here! I was so worried.”

She held out a hand and grasped Bella’s. “The dress is lovely. You didn’t have to do that! But it will make the experience even better for the women as they practice bridal looks. And for prom.” She nodded at the two Audreys in their red dresses and turned to Krieg. “Your skin tone is excellent for our new line.” She tugged both women forward. “We must hurry. Everyone’s been waiting!” She ignored the dog, who fortunately had the good sense not to bark at her.