Black Cherry's
 GUN CONTROL
the sixth story of the "Skin Deep" saga

 


CHAPTER TWO:

“The big red rocket of love”

 

“Drinking spirits is against Jesus, just water for me”. Virgillia replied to the waiter.

 

“Oh brother.” Torrid said, nervously stroking her eyebrow and playing with the piercing that went through it.

 

“Melinda—if not to come home to me, why did you call?”

 

“Mom, I called you because I have something to tell you. And I haven’t seen you since I was a kid. Do you know how that makes me feel? How does it make you feel?” Torrid asked earnestly.

 

“Sad, Melinda. It makes me sad that my baby was gone from me all this time.” Virgillia started to mist up. “ You were such a beautiful and bright girl…why you chose this, I’ll never understand.”

 

“That’s just it, mom. It’s not a choice! Do you think I wanted to be this different? That I wanted to be rejected by you?  Do you think I wanted to leave my home? Why the hell would you think I chose any of this?”

 

“Melinda, I don’t understand.”

 

“No…you don’t. But I’m trying to explain it to you. Will you listen? Will you really listen?”

 

Virgillia looked into her daughter’s eyes. She had the most beautiful pale blue eyes, like her father’s. She suddenly flashed back to a time when Melinda was young and she and her father were the best of pals, when did everything together, they were inseparable.  “You look at me with your father’s eyes.”

 

“Yeah….I guess I do. Maybe I’m more like him than I want to think.”

Torrid said, admitting,” But I’m also your daughter. It’s been so long, mom, I wanted to see you, to see how you are, I …missed you.”

 

“You did?” Virgillia asked, somewhat surprised. “I didn’t think you would, with the last words we exchanged. You hurt me, Melinda.”

“We hurt eachother, Mom.” Torrid said gently, “But it’s in the past. Can’t we just enjoy the moment? Being here, having lunch on this nice spring day?”

 

“I’d be nice, dear. But I’m not good at pretending, Melinda. I can’t pretend that I understand your choices.  I want you to know something. Melinda…I, do love you, I never stopped.”

 

“God, I hope you really mean that.” Torrid said, “Because there’s something really important I have to tell you.”

 

“You can tell me anything, honey. I’m your mother!”

 

The waiter brought the drinks and sat them on the table. Virgillia’ s reaction to him wasn’t lost on Torrid. It made her feel uncomfortable. She wondered, is that how she sees me? With that kind of disdain?

 

“Well, First off, “ Torrid said, “Being gay is not a choice. Now I know what the churches say, but they don’t know. I do know first hand. I was born this way. It’s what I am, and nothing can ever change that. But that doesn’t make me any less your daughter, mom. Can’t you see that?”

 

“Oh Melinda, I see your struggle and your pain and I am so sorry. I know you are my daughter, you never stopped being my daughter, and I love you. I want to help you, to be here for you…but sweetie, you’re sick. You need help.”

 

“What I need is another drink…Waiter!” Torrid said. “You’re not listening to me, Mom.”

 

“Baby, I met this man…he can help you. He’s a real prophet of the Lord. He says he can cure this…whatever it is—save your immortal soul so you don’t burn in the hell fires of damnation for all time!”

 

Torrid’s jaw dropped.

 

“Mom…could you keep it down?” Torrid said, looking around. “And while we’re on the subject of it, I have something to ask you about this prophet man and his miracle cures.”

 

“What is it baby?”

 

“Are you nuts?”

 

“Melinda Bairn Duncan!“

”Torrid. It’s Torrid. I’m not Melinda anymore. I’m Torrid Goddamned Duncan. I’m a leather wearing, gun toting, tattoo sporting, black belt, motorcycle riding, lesbian bad ass dyke!”

 

“I can see it was a mistake in coming here.”

 

“Well yeah, I could have told you that!” Torrid said, downing her drink and standing up.

 

“Why did you call me then?” Virgillia asked, perplexed.

 

“My girlfriend—who I am going to kill, when I see her next; she wanted me to. She thought she could help me get over some of my childhood traumas, get some closure to the estrangement between us. She meant well, but you’re right…. it’s hopeless.”

 

“Melinda, it’s not hopeless. Who is this girlfriend?”

 

“You’d like her mom, she’s a doctor. A professional woman, good money, great career, smarts, beautiful—but, blonde. She still believes in unicorns and rainbows. She still believes that a mother’s love can overcome anything…. even brain washing.  She’ll have to grow out of

that fantasy world one day, because it’s a load of crap!”

 

“Melinda, that’s not fair! I’m only trying to help you! I’m trying to help you get better so you can be –“

 

“Be what, mom? Be like you?”

 

“I, uh, I just want you to have a normal life!”

 

“Normal? Do you think it was ever normal? My God mom, you drove Dad away with your zealous devotion to those crack pot evangelists on the TV, you condemned your own daughter, tried to have me locked up against my will and given shock therapy…what the fuck is normal about that?” Torrid demanded.

 

“I think I’d better leave before I say something I’ll regret.”

 

“I wish you would! I wish you would regret some of the shit you say! I’m not sick mom…. I AM normal!  I am the best person I can be. If that’s not good enough for you, then I’m sorry. I can’t be what you want me to be.”

 

Drelica pulled into the parking lot of Baba Yaga’s and parked her car. She rushed to the front steps of the entrance only to see the scene that was in full burning glory on the patio. She rushed into the restaurant and out onto the patio to try and put out a fire that seemed to be raging out of control.

 

“Torrid!” Drelica said, breathlessly.

 

“Dre—you’re late.” Torrid said, calming down. “You missed the excitement. Mom and I were catching up on old times.”

 

“Mrs. Cartwright? I’m Drelica Truman, it’s so nice to meet you, “ Drelica said extending her hand to Torrid’s mother.

 

Virgillia stared at Drelica’s extended hand and let it hang in space for what seemed like an uncomfortable eternity, and then she gingerly accepted it and gave an eely cold fish shake. The kind that Church women are so skilled at; the kind that make you feel as though they’ve just put their hand in a bucket of eyeballs by touching you. It was the most unwelcoming feeling Drelica had ever experienced.

 

“Dr. Truman, is it? Melinda said you were a doctor.” Virgillia said coldly.

 

“Melinda?” Drelica said surprised. Then she felt Torrid elbow her and she was shaken out of her momentary shock. “Uh, yes, I’m a PhD in Vertebrate Paleontology. I work at the museum as curator of the Paleo wing.”

 

“I don’t follow.”

 

“She’s in charge of the dinosaur stuff at the museum, mom.” Torrid said, irritated at her mother.

 

“I see, an evolutionist, and a lesbian. Well, it figures. Ms. Truman it was kind of you to set this up, but it seems Melinda and I can’t see eye to eye on some matters of importance.”

 

“Oh?”

Shit. Don’t ask and get her started Dre! Torrid thought.

 

“What matters are they, if I may ask?”

 

“Well for one, the fact they you’re both sick and need help or you’re going to burn in hell for all eternity. But this seems to be of little concern to my daughter. Would you care to give me your expert opinion on the matter, I mean, as a scientist?”

 

“Uh…” Drelica searched Torrid’s face for help, but found none. It was obvious that his was a bad idea, and the ship was sinking fast. “No. I don’t have anything to add. I guess I’ll be on the elevator going down with Torrid, since we’re going to be married next month.”

 

“What??” Virgillia said, shocked. “You can’t be serious! You can’t do that; it’s against the sacred union of a man and woman. Two women can’t be married…it’s against God!”

 

“See? I told you.” Torrid said to Drelica. “There’s no reasoning with her. Let’s go.  Mom…you take care. “

 

Torrid walked into the restaurant, and headed straight to the ladies room. Drelica stood there agape in disbelief that this woman gave birth to her brilliant amazon. This woman who was so frail, and so filled with negative thoughts and feelings, so brain washed, was Torrid’s mother.

 

“I’ve lost her.” Virgillia said, sadness in her voice.

 

“Mrs. Cartwright, my heart goes out to you. I can’t imagine what you must being thinking. Or what you think of me, but I love your daughter.  And whether or not you approve of us being married or not,

I want you to know that I will take care of her. She’s a good woman. She’s taken care of me. She even saved my life. I hope that counts for something in your book. Whatever book that is.”

 

“My book, Ms. Truman is the word of God. Good day.”

 


With that, Drelica shook her head walked into the restaurant to try to find Torrid.

 

 Virgillia, reached for the bill placed on the table by the waiter and opened the card to find Torrid had left a $100 bill to cover the drinks.

Virgillia frowned. “I guess sin is profitable.”  Just then she noticed that Drelica had left a calling card. At first, she pushed it away, but reconsidering picked it up, stuck it in her purse. She then got up and left.

 

Drelica was too late to catch up with Torrid. She had missed her in the ladies room of the restaurant, and again in the parking lot. Torrid had already pulled out onto the street and couldn’t hear Drelica calling after her over the sound of the bike’s engine.

“Great. I sure am going to be in the doghouse over this one, “ Drelica said to herself.

 

 

Ariel Ryder walked upstairs to her apartment after another long day that seemed to last 48 hours. She was exhausted, but determined to succeed at finding the lunatic that was out there somewhere murdering people in her neighborhood.

She picked up her newspaper and fished for her keys, just as a noisy motorcycle pulled up into the parking lot below.

Great. Just what I need after a long noisy day.  She leaned over the balcony and called out to the stranger who was getting off the bike,

“Hey keep it down will ya buddy, it’s been a long day.”

 

“Buddy? Say what?” Torrid said, annoyed.

 

God, how embarrassing, Ariel thought to herself as she realized she just insulted the dyke below.  The really hot dyke. You’d think I’d be good at spotting my own kind by now.

“Uh, I’m so sorry—like I said, long day.”

 

“No problem—I’m just here to see a friend. I’ll keep the bike quiet when I leave.”

 

“Thanks.” Ariel said, and turned back toward her apartment door. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, enjoying the cool rush of the A/C over her misted body. She hated wearing a suit in the warmer months, and even though it was April, it was heating up fast. Everything seemed to stick to her skin. She was ready for a cold beer and a pair of clean cut off jean shorts.

 

There was nothing in the fridge but a moldy carton of cottage cheese and a half a dozen eggs.

 

“Shit.” Ariel said, slamming the fridge door. “What’s a girl gotta do to get a cold beer around here!”

 

 

Two doors down, Torrid was sitting on Liz’s couch recounting the tale of terror of her meeting with her mother.

 

“You’re shitting me.” Liz said, wide-eyed and hanging on every word of Torrid’s story.

“No. That’s what happened.”

 

“What did Drelica say about all this?” Liz asked.

 

“I don’t know—I’m sort of not sure if I’m ready to talk to her about this. I’m a little pissed off at her right now.” Torrid admitted.

 

“Why? She was just trying to help.”

 

“I know that, but—I knew how it would end.”

 

“And?”

 

“What do you mean, ‘And’?”

 

“I mean, ‘and’, you’re pissed off at Drelica…because?  She never put a gun to your head, Tor. You agreed to this. Cut her some slack.”

 

“Thanks, Liz make me feel like a heel already.”

 

“If the boot fits, babe, wear it.”  Liz smirked.

 

“Piss off. I need a beer. You got?”

 

“No. Fresh out. But if you give me a lift to work, I can hook you up there.”

 

“Okay. I’m not ready to deal with this shit just yet anyway.”

 

A few minutes later Liz and Torrid were mounting up on Torrid’s bike.  Torrid put her helmet on and kick-started the engine. Liz was riding bitch, with Torrid’s spare helmet. Torrid revved the engine and they were off to the bar where Liz worked as night manager and bar tender.

Inside her apartment Ariel Ryder heard the bike engine and scowled. That was the last straw. She wanted to unwind, and her apartment was gross and devoid of food or beers. Now, whether she liked it or not, if she wanted any diversion from a long day, she’d have to go out to find it.


”What the hell, right? I’m off for a couple days; I deserve a night out to unwind. And, if I’m lucky, I might get …lucky!” She mused to herself.

 

Drelica checked the voicemail on her home phone hoping to find a message from Torrid, but there was none. “She’s probably over at Liz’s licking her wounds. I hope she’s not too upset with me.”

She sighed sadly then threw her shoes off and flopped down on the sofa clicking the television on to catch the news.

Ariel Ryder parked her Toyota Tacoma in the space next to the door of the neighborhood bar, and chuckled to herself as she put the gear in park. “Right up front, must be just the bare bones at this hour.”  She took her shades off and put them on the dash and unfolded her pop up sunshade to keep the cab of the truck from turning into an oven in the Houston heat. This was definitely a hot and steamy day, even though it started out rather mild.

 

Inside the bar Liz was setting up for her shift. “Have a seat, Tor, and I’ll get you a cold beer.”

 

“You’re a Goddess, Liz.”

 

“A fact of which, I am well aware.” Liz replied as she popped open a long neck for Torrid.

 

As Torrid reached for her beer, a sudden blinding flash of light disoriented her as someone opened the door at the west entrance filling the room with the bright blistering sun. Torrid shielded her eyes as she tried to refocus on the silhouette of the figure standing there framed by the spillage of sunlight.

“Come in or go out, but shut the door, will ya?” Torrid growled. Ariel eyebrows raised in slight surprise when she realized the person growling at her was the really hot tattooed woman riding the motorcycle in the parking lot of her apartment complex.

 

“My bad…” Ariel Ryder replied. “I’m just looking for a cool quiet place and an ice cold beer.”

 

“Come on in!” Liz smiled, motioning for Ariel to enter.

“You’re a Goddess.” Ariel smiled back.

 

“We were just having that same discussion,” Liz replied. “I am the Goddess of Brew…. here…. sample my sacrament!”

 

Liz slid a cold long neck across the bar to Ariel who caught it and grinned in gratitude.

“Thanks, Liz—It’s been a long day.”

 

“How’s the job treating you?” Liz asked.

 

“It’s been stressful lately. This one case I’m working on is especially stressful, so I’m glad to have a couple of days off.”

 

“You two know each other?” Torrid asked Liz.

 

“Torrid, I’m sorry—this is Ariel Ryder. My neighbor. She’s a police officer.”

 

“Oh yeah, I saw you today.” Torrid said, eyeing Ariel suspiciously. “Good to know you, buddy.”

 

“Ariel, this is Torrid Duncan, my best friend since high school. She owns an ink shop, Skin Deep.”

 

“No kidding? I was thinking of getting a tattoo…but I’m not sure what.”

 

Once the subject of ink came up, Torrid warmed up rather quickly to Ariel, and they visited and drank beers together for a long while, waiting for the Texas sun to set outside.

 

Virgillia Cartwright waited outside the church door trying to gather her composure. She had an upsetting afternoon. She had thought her prayers were answered and that her daughter was returning home to God, but it was as she had feared all of these years. Melinda was indeed lost to the devil. Her only hope of saving her daughter was to go to Reverend Smyth and tell him what had transpired today. He would know what to do, he was a true man of God.  She wiped her tears away with her hands and took a deep breath.  She got out of her car and took the steps to the office door. She knocked and went in.

 

Drelica clicked the TV off and tossed the remote on the couch. She stretched and yawned and looked at the clock. It’d been a few hours and there was still no word from Torrid. Damn. I guess it will be up to me to call her…damn butches. Drelica sighed as she pressed the speed dial on her cell phone. Voice mail. It figures. “Torrid, it’s me. Baby I’m concerned. I know you must be upset. I’m sorry. You know I love you and I was just trying to help. Please call me back and let’s talk about this. Or…at least call me back and let me know you’re okay if you don’t feel like talking about it.

That’s okay…just call me? I love you.”

 

Drelica stuck her tongue out at the phone as she flipped it closed. She walked to the window and looked out at the sun setting over the park.

“Well, now what? I’m sick of TV, and my girlfriend is off being all dark and broody. I’m bored.”

 

 

“Mrs. Cartwright—do come in, sister.” Reverend Abner Smyth said as he opened the door to the Church office wider for her to enter.

 

“Thank you, Brother Smyth. I didn’t know where else to go. Something terrible has happened. I need your guidance.”

 

“Of course…what has happened?”

 

“The devil, Brother….the devil has happened!”  Virgillia said, handing him the calling card Drelica had left on the table at the restaurant.

 

Drelica decided to go for a walk in the park and enjoy the beautiful evening. She loved springtime in Houston, and the warmth. It was a nice change from the windy city, and the freezing cold winters of the Midwest. Drelica didn’t know what to expect when she decided to move back to Texas, with her turbulent family dramas, and maniac smugglers trying to kill her, but things had worked out for the better and her life was for the most part, happy. She was just disappointed with the way things went for Torrid and her mother, and she felt helpless and frustrated over the whole situation. It’s just so fucking stupid. How can people really believe all that hateful shit?

 

Drelica strolled past the museum and into the rose garden where she could walk among the blooms and relieve the tension in her mind and body. She loved Torrid, more than anyone on the planet and she wanted only good things for her lover. She was disappointed at herself for dragging Torrid into an awkward and painful situation, and she was disappointed in Torrid and her mother both for being knot heads. Sheesh.  Maybe in time things would improve. Maybe if they invited her to the wedding, or out to dinner sometime? Maybe she should just forget it and accept the fact, that some people just cannot accept the fact.

Drelica frowned. There was some days that all of it really did get to her. Some days that she felt that no matter how happy she and Torrid were, or how successful, that nothing they did mattered to society and that they would always be outsiders.

“Well I guess, when you come out…you really are out.”  She shook her head and walked on toward the Japanese garden, unaware that she was being watched from a distance.

 

“And she blew the bitch’s head off!” Liz said, pouring drinks and finishing the story she was telling of how Torrid took out Elektra Knossoss.

 

Ariel looked Torrid up and down, “That was you?”

 

“Yeah. But it wasn’t that dramatic and exciting—well, okay it was, but it was also nauseating. The woman was a friend of mine at one time, it was hard to pull the trigger. It was hard to be in that position where I had to pull the trigger.”

 

“I take it the grand jury gave you a pass?”

 

“I wouldn’t be sitting here if they hadn’t. I’ve got a clean record, Detective Ryder.” Torrid said, punctuating the point. She was annoyed at the inference.

 

“Sorry, occupational habit. But you have to admit, Torrid, bodies fall a lot when you pass through.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“I’m just saying. Your ex friend and rival turns up dead—“

 

“Don’t you mean a homicidal maniac who killed a woman and attempted to murder me and my ex girlfriend—?“

 

“And what about that ex girlfriend? She turns up murdered, the case is still unsolved, and you conveniently start dating her sister. I’m just saying.”

 

“Ariel, wait just a minute.” Liz interrupted. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

 

“No…let her finish, Liz. I want to hear this, before I kick her ass.” Torrid said. Now she was really starting to get pissed off. Breaking balls was one thing, but this woman was digging for blood. “Lady, what’s your beef with me?”

 

“What?” Ariel said, suddenly lost in her own thoughts. Jesus she was drunk. What was she doing? “Fuck—you’re right. I’m out of line. I’m sorry…I’m going home.”

 

“Ariel, you’re not driving?”

 

“I’ll be fine.”

 

“Torrid—“ Liz pleaded.

 

“Fuck. Okay ‘detective’, where’s your squad car?”  Torrid said as she caught Ariel’s arm.

 

“What? No way.”

 

“Then you’re walking, because you’re not driving on my streets in that condition. What the hell kind of cop are you?”

 

Ariel jerked her arm away from Torrid’s grasp. “Not a very good one. There’s a killer out there and I have no clue who it is!”

 

Liz and Torrid stared at each other.

 

“Killer?” Torrid asked.

 

“Shit.” Ariel said. “We’ve set up a task force at the substation. We think it’s a serial.”

 

“Serial? Here in Houston?” Liz asked

 

“Houston? Try right here in Montrose!”

 

Drelica walked along the reflection pool dropping breadcrumbs from a hotdog bun she bought from a vender into the water. A trail of ducklings followed along gobbling up the breadcrumbs. The sun was setting and the city was growing quiet. She really enjoyed walking in the park at this time of day.

The ringing of her cell phone broke the peace of the moment, and she was disappointed to find that it wasn’t Torrid calling her, but rather, Oh shit!

The wedding planner…Fuck. We forgot to meet him today.

 

“Hello? Dennis….Hi there! Uh….well, no we didn’t forget…” she lied. “We had a bit of drama today with Torrid’s mother. Can we reschedule? I’m so sorry. Tomorrow? How about the day after? I’ll buy you lunch…. Okay, great! Thanks, hon. Bye.”

 

Oh Torrid…I’m so sorry. She thought, regretting that she pressured Torrid to reunite with her mother.  There’s a lot of baggage between them, a lot of unresolved hurt on both sides, not to mention stubborn pride. Drelica let out a sigh and turned to go back to her apartment; just then she noticed a stranger watching her. He was sitting on a picnic table, with his feet on the seat, feeding the ducks, and pigeons that pecked and scratched for morsels dropped by the park visitors.

He seemed occupied with his feathered friends, and uninterested in her, but it was still creepy, since she had thought she was alone for the longest time.

 

The man watched her as she walked the trail back toward the edge of the park, and he even nodded and smiled as she passed. She smiled nervously back and let out a breath as she passed him and cleared the

Trees.

“Shit, Dre—you’re just being paranoid.” She said aloud to herself as she stepped off the curb and crossed the street to her building.

The eyes of the stranger stayed with the woman until she had cleared the tree line and gone out of his line of sight.  He turned his attention back to the hungry flock at his feet, and smiled.  He made cooing noises as she brushed crumbs out of the bread sack for the pigeons. He began to hum, and smiled to himself as he sang the words to an old fashioned hymn, then he took out a note pad from his pocket and made some notes. He scribbled and thought and scribbled some more.

Then he looked down at the birds and he addressed them.

“Gather around my congregation….I will practice my sermon for you today. How does this sound? Children need to know: become gay and face the wrath of God. And this message needs to be backed up with spanking, with summers at Jesus camp, with mandatory prayer and Bible readings. At every step, there must be at least some hint of the suffering and pain that will follow should a child choose a life of sin. It would be especially helpful if the people that chose the gay life-style were publicly humiliated and forced to walk the streets in shame. I’m thinking something along the lines of being forced to wear ballerina outfits and bright red high-heel shoes. Of course, my mind isn’t set in stone on this point — somebody is more than welcome to offer a better idea.”

 

He smiled at the congregation of birds below him, and blessed them, as he got up to leave. “Bless you, my children, you are beloved in the eyes of the Lord.”

 

The stranger followed the trail in the direction the woman had gone. Slowly he walked, curious as to where she had come from to begin with. Curious as to whether this was her regular routine.  He would spend some time getting to know her, before they were properly introduced.

continued in chapter three