Audrey Hepburn's Pearls: Part I

Chapter 13.2: 1994, Ruiz

Chapter 13.2: 1994, Ruiz

Another Sunday morning. Another day to try with Mrs. George. How could it be that I was seeing her on a Sunday again? It felt like I was walking into re-living the same events as that Sunday when I had destroyed her photo album. 

But this time I was dressed in girl's jeans and a loose white button down shirt. On my bed, I slipped on my black mary janes, but then looked at them in the full body mirror which sat on my white carpet at a tilt. Frowning, I took them off. They made me look really cute, but it was too girly. The jeans were pushing it. I wasn't going out in drag. I was being me. And if my Mama saw me wearing mary janes with a casual outfit...

An all over body shiver gave me the answer. I covered my face in the mirror. 

Having found my old beat up sneakers just under my bed with my foot, I started lacing them up on my feet. They grossed me out, but they were perfect to draw attention away from my girl jeans. These jeans were tight, but the large shirt covered that up a bit. It certainly covered up the little pink daisy on the jeans' back label. 

I looked at myself fully in the mirror again. As I tied my curly hair back with a rubber band at the base of my neck, I tried to ignore how girly the jeans looked. Maybe nobody on the street would notice. Or if they did, I considered I could say, "damn, I must've taken my sister's jeans again" even though I didn't have a sister. Frowning, I wondered about taking them off. But I didn't take them off. They'd be my little secret. They made me feel so good, like a spark was in my heart. 

When I walked into the kitchen, Mama was still in her church clothes. She was sipping coffee and reading the Sunday paper. 

"You're going to a grocery store, right, Ruiz? Can you bring home some coffee creamer?" she asked, not looking up from her paper.

I shifted in my old sneakers, uncomfortable. "Mama, this isn't a regular grocery store. Its a Jewish grocery store. They don't have that stuff," I explained gently.

She looked at me now, her gaze unwavering. "Why not? Jewish don't drink coffee?"

"I'm sure they do, Mama, but they don't have coffee creamer. I've been in there a lot. I've never seen it. Its kind of a small store..."

She was staring at me now, her newspaper lowering to the table. Her eyes traveled downward. My breath caught in my throat. She was staring at my jeans. A million years seemed to go by as she stared. I swallowed.

"You need new sneakers? Your birthday is coming up. I'll get you some new ones," she said, picking up her newspaper and taking a sip of her coffee. My breath let out silently. I smiled at her. I wanted to tell her I didn't need new sneakers, but no sound came out of my throat. 

As I walked to the subway, no one looked at me. It was a relief. In the train car I was surrounded by happy families -and a few unhappy ones- going to church. Everyone was dressed to the nines except for me. Little boys in suits and ties. Little girls in dresses with sashes. One such little girl sat at my feet the whole way, the tulle of her dress enveloping my leg. I sighed silently to myself, feeling the rough material's weight. A burning in my heart started, telling me it wished to wear tulle; wished I was wearing tulle now. But I ignored the feeling. Instead I looked around the train car, like I was avoiding looking at someone who happened to be myself. 

At a particular stop, most of the families in my car got off the train. It appeared they all went to the same church, perhaps. The little girl who had been sitting at my feet skipped off the train. Suddenly, I saw myself as a little boy in her white tulle and blue satin dress. I blinked several times. This yearning heart. How dare this yearning heart. 

A couple of stops later, I was near Club Her Majesty. I got off the train and was thrown into the underground world of the subway. People of all shapes and colors darted around me, getting on the train. Others sat, some were reading the same newspaper my mom had been. It felt surreal after the train ride with all of those similar smartly dressed people, those people going to church, going to god. I passed a homeless man sleeping next to the stairs, his things in several large black trash bags.

Going down the street now, I passed Club Her Majesty. It looked strange during the day. I guessed this must be like going down the Las Vegas strip during the daytime. Its old vertical rectangular sign wasn't lit. It looked ghostly, like an abandoned movie theater in a ghost town. On the marquee, there was the usual announcement of couples getting in for the price of one on Mondays and for the Tuesday goth night. 

Ambrose floated into my thoughts. Goth night. I wondered if he was maybe working goth night now, being a goth queen and everything. I'd have to ask him. I hadn't gotten a chance to call him the night before since I had fallen asleep.

Some streets down but not too far away, I rounded into the Jewish grocery store. Charlie was there, helping a customer at the counter. I overheard him ask the old lady if she'd like him to carry her groceries to her car, but she declined politely. How nice of him. He truly was a nice guy.

When she left, I smiled to him near the door. He began to fiddle with something under the counter, not looking at me. I walked up to the counter. Had he not seen me? He looked up to me now.

"May I help you?" he asked. His eyes looked overly polite. Confusion grew in me.

"Charlie?" I asked back, my eyebrow raising in my confusion.

He took a step back. "Wait!" he yelped. 

I burst into giggles. "You didn't recognize me!" I mock scolded, "And here I thought we were friends?"

"Sorry, Miss Ruiz! You look so different!" he gasped. "I've never seen you out of...well out of you know..."

"Out of drag. You can definitely say that. Its okay," I giggled. But inside I was sighing, blushing to myself privately. He called me 'Miss' out of drag. I had to hold on to that for a minute. Relish being called that outside of my drag clothes.

"Your hair is pretty," he smiled, gathering up two grocery bags. 

My hand reached up to my short ponytail slowly. Was it? "Gracias," I said a little quieter than usual. I couldn't believe my ears. He was treating me female outside of drag. I felt like I was floating on a cloud. Even though I knew he was treating me this way out of ignorance, maybe thinking all drag queens liked to be treated as women at any time, I still held onto it. It was enough.

As I thought to myself, he had been to the drink cases and back. He held a strawberry milk out to me. "This is for you. Free of charge. I know you like it, so... Here," he said. My heart flipped a little bit. Did I detect a nervousness in his voice?

"Gracias," I said quietly again, taking it. I felt too hot. What was going on? 

He smiled in a small way to me, looking away quickly. "Let's go," he said, clearing his throat afterward.

My eyes widened and my eyebrow raised involuntarily. But then I ignored what he had done just now. I recalled what his father had told me the other Friday, about Charlie having been on a date. I was reading him wrong. That's all it was. Blushing a little bit, I followed Charlie out of the store. The strawberry milk was freezing my hand, my body hotter than it had been a few minutes earlier.