Chapter 25
"Invitation?" the burley, beefy armed bouncer challenged them as soon as they got to the door of the Trapp.
"We, um, left it at home," Audrey stammered.
"Are you even old enough to drink?" the bouncer asked, his face flat and unemotional behind his sunglasses.
"That's a great costume, man," one of the men in line behind them said with admiration, reaching up to touch Gabriel's wings. Gabriel flinched back his wings, not liking to be touched. "Wow! It's like they're real … or something."
"Cool mace," a second bar patron said. "Can I see it?"
"What's with the tattoos?" a third patron asked Audrey.
"This is a private party, kid," the bouncer said. "Come back when you're invited."
"Lena is going to want to see this," a third bar patron said, an African-American woman in a gold, glittering evening dress said, gliding up to them and scrutinizing Gabriel's wings. She was dressed up as Diana Ross. "Russ … go get Lena. Tell her Roxanne sent you."
"You can go right in," the bouncer said respectfully to Roxanne. "I'll hold these jokers outside until Lena makes a decision."
"Later, big boy," Roxanne said to Gabriel, taking her gloved hand and blowing him a kiss. "Lena will let you inside."
The Reverend yelped as Roxanne slapped him in the ass on her way by, giving him a wink, and then started to laugh.
"Beautiful costume," Audrey observed. "She looks just like Diana Ross."
The Reverend laughed even harder.
"What?" Audrey asked, looking to either side. Gabriel was sullen and scowling, having retreated behind that expression to hide whatever emotions she had unleashed earlier. He diligently maintained his physical distance, the way he quickly stepped back every time she moved near belying the cool indifference he had schooled onto his face.
"You'll see," the Reverend said cryptically, mirth twinkling in his eyes before he pulled his dark sunglasses over his eyes and assumed his most convincing Elvis pose for whoever this Lena was who had the power to let them inside.
Gabriel had a small crowd gathered around him, all trying to touch his armor and pat his feathers.
"Are you like, an FX guy, or something?" one patron, a man with a purple or red Mohawk asked.
"How do you get them to move like that?" another asked, a man with a long trench coat asked.
"They look real," a third man with a razor blade and black lipstick on, looking very much like Billy Idol, said as he gave one of Gabriel's primary feathers a tug.
"Enough!" Gabriel snarled, crossing his arms in front of his chest and glowering at the patrons buzzing around him.
"He's got the 'Thor' pose down perfectly," Mohawk Man said, oblivious to the threat of Gabriel's rapidly deteriorating temper.
"And he's got the arms to throw that big old mace he's carrying," Trench Coat man said. "Ooooo."
"What's the armor made of?" Billy Idol man said, boldly rapping on Gabriel's breastplate. "Did you get it off E-bay before the apocalypse?"
"Gabriel," Audrey murmured, reaching out to touch his forearm and calm him before he blew his stack. "We need to get inside."
Gabriel retreated behind his unreadable expression, but she could see storm clouds gathering in his eyes as the patrons continued poking and prodding his 'costume.' She could feel his muscles coiled beneath her fingers like an overwound spring getting ready to explode. Only her small hand on his bare skin was keeping his anger in check.
"Can I hold your mace?" a fourth patron, a man dressed in a zoot suit, fedora, wing-tip shoes, and carrying a violin case asked. Gangster-Man. The man reached to touch Gabrie'ls mace.
"Get back!" Gabriel snarled, instinctively reaching for his mace.
"Gabriel, please…" Audrey pleaded, reaching up to touch his cheek. "We need to get in here." He looked into her eyes, shuddering with anger, and let it go with a grimace and a grunt.
"Ooooo…" Mohawk Man said, admiration tingeing his voice. "He's definitely got the Thor thing down. They should cast him in the next blockbuster."
"If there ever is another blockbuster," Trench Coat Man said. "I can't even get decent radio reception. Nothing but Mormon hymns all day long."
The patrons all sighed at that comment.
"Well, well, well," a breathy, husky voice chuckled. "Just look what the cat dragged in." A voluptuous woman in a full-length blue evening gown, slit all the way up to her pantyline, sidled out the single step up to the bar and glided over to their little group.
"These jokers are trying to crash the party," the bouncer said. "Roxanne thought you might be interested in them."
"Lena, I presume," the Reverend said, stepping right up and offering his hand in a manner that anybody who had ever been forced to watch too many reruns of old Elvis movies at her grandmothers' house would recognize. "I must say, it is a pleasure." The Reverend bent down and kissed her gloved hand.
"You really know how to charm a girl," Lena said, casually tossing her white feathery boa over one shoulder. "What's a nice king of rock and roll doing in a shithole like this?"
"Trying to find a sinner amongst the saints," the Reverend said, slipping up his dark sunglasses and giving Lena a wink.
Lena looked next at Gabriel, scrutinizing him intensely. Gabriel scrutinized Lena right back.
"You're a long way from home, big boy," Lena finally said softly, the breathiness leaving her voice. "Slumming?"
Gabriel was silent as he didn't have an answer for her question. He just gave her an unreadable glare, and then when it was obvious Lena was waiting for an answer, he grunted, "Yes."
"This is a closed party," Lena said finally, not breaking eye contact with Gabriel. "If you wish to enter, you must be respectful of my guests."
"Yes," Gabriel said.
"If you wish to enter my sanctuary," Lena said, "you must be willing to pay the price."
"I have a little money," Audrey said, fumbling into her coat pocket and pulling out a few greenbacks. Money nobody wanted anymore.
"Money is worthless," Lena said, glancing at the Reverend. "Times are unsettled. If you wish to gain entrance, you must each contribute something of value."
"I sing Elvis songs," the Reverend offered.
"I sing … backup?" Audrey offered.
Gabriel regarded Lena intently. "I can offer nothing of value except my presence."
"A dance," Lena finally said. "I will allow all three of you entrance if this one gives me one dance."
"Agreed!" Audrey said, grabbing Gabriel by the hand and tugging him towards the door.
"I don't dance," Gabriel started to say.
"You do now," Audrey ordered, shoving the immovable wall of his big frame towards the door.
"I've never…" Gabriel said, his expression guarded and unsure.
"You'll learn!" Audrey snapped.
Gabriel tucked his wings tightly into his back, barely able to move his large frame and even larger wingspan in a bar already overcrowded to popping.
"Drinks for these three are on the house," Lena said to the bartender.
"Thank you," Audrey said.
"Don't thank me yet," Lena said. "The Mormons don't allow strong liquor. I suggest you stick to beer."
On stage, Roxanne, aka 'Diana Ross' was just finishing up singing an old Aretha Franklin tune, R-E-S-P-E-C-T. It appeared the bar was largely lit up with kerosene lanterns, although the hum of a generator could be heard in the background, powering a spotlight on the stage and a single microphone. The rest of the band strummed along on a variety of instruments.
Gabriel backed up to the corner of the bar, parked his body there, and refused to move, his face unreadable except for the occasional contemptuous twitch of his wings every time one of the bar patrons bumped into him.
Roxanne aka 'Diana Ross' finished up her string of songs, and then the Emcee came on to announce the next act as the bar patrons cheered. There were so many people in the bar that she had to stand with her arms pressed jammed against her sides. Most of the men's costumes leaned toward that post-apocalyptic or gothic leather look, but many of the women were surprisingly well dressed.
"And now ladies and gentlemen," the Emcee announced. "Our own Miss Lena would like to dedicate this next song to her special guests." The spot light dimmed and then came back up again with Lena in her blue evening gown, wearing some sort of strange hat, surrounded by four men bare-chested men dressed in little more than black leather pants with goth-style chest-straps held by chrome rings. The audience hushed as the band struck up.
The moment the band started playing, the Reverend gave her a knowing look and a shit-eating grin. It wasn't from her generation, so it took Audrey a moment as Lena sang through the first stanza in her chain-smoking, husky voice before she was able to place the tune as well. They both glanced at Gabriel, knowing what was coming.
Fee, fee, fi, fi, fo-fo, fum
Look at Molly now, here she comes
Wearin' her wig hat and shades to match
She's got high-heel shoes and an alligator hat
Wearin' her pearls and her diamond rings
She's got bracelets on her fingers, now, and everything
The four leather-clad men, who appeared to be both dancers and backup singers, danced across the stage and sang the refrain as Lena worked her way through the crowd, over to where Gabriel was trying his hardest to disappear into the wood making up the bar.
She's the devil with the blue dress, blue dress, blue dress,
Devil with the blue dress on
Devil with the blue dress, blue dress, blue dress,
Devil with the blue dress on
"You promised me a dance," Lena said, reaching out with her gloved hand. "And your kind never breaks their promises, do they?"
"No," Gabriel said, reluctantly reaching up and taking Lena's hand. She immediately tugged him back towards the stage with her, just in time to sing the next string of verses. Gabriel stood there, stiff as a board, wings tucked so tightly into his back they would have disappeared if they weren't so darned big, while Lena used Gabriel's large frame as a prop.
Wearin' her perfume, Chanel No. 5
Got to be the finest girl alive
She walks real cool, catches everybody's eye
As Lena sang that last phrase, Lena moved as though to touch Gabriel's chin suggestively with her gloved hand, but didn't actually touch him. Gabriel crossed his arms, the muscle in his jaw betraying his displeasure at being made a spectacle of.
She's got such good lovin' that they can't say goodbye
Not too skinny, she's not too fat
She's a real humdinger and I like it like that
"She's really good," Audrey said, admiration tingeing her voice. "What's she doing all the way up here. She belongs in Las Vegas or someplace."
"She's not a she," the Reverend said. "She's a he."
"Oh, okay," Audrey said and then, as the implications of what the Reverend was saying sank in, exclaimed, "What?"
"Gay bar," the Reverend said. "Look around you. Notice a pattern?"
Audrey looked around and realized for the first time that although there were many men and women present, most of the men were standing chatting with other men, while most of the women were standing chatting next to other women.
"Oh…." Audrey said, glancing at Gabriel and getting that sinking feeling. "Do you think he's figured it out yet?"
"He hasn't taken that mace of his yet and smote any sodomites yet," the Reverend said. "Probably not. He'll figure it out eventually."
"Doesn't it bother you?" Audrey asked, not sure how she was supposed to feel about suddenly finding herself in the middle of a gay bar smack in the middle of the bastian of intolerance, Salt Lake City.
"I'm a Methodist minster from Las Vegas," the Reverend said, shrugging. "Some Methodist sects decided it was prudent to preach tolerance. My congregation was one of them. If not for the gay, lesbian, transsexual and transgender community in Las Vegas, I wouldn't have had any real congregation at all. Live and let live."
"Oh," Audrey said. She stood, ready to spring in case Gabriel suddenly 'got it' and exploded, not sure how he'd react.
Luckily, although Lena for some reason was holding him to his promise to 'dance' with her, or more accurately, stand immobile as a prop while she sang and danced, thankfully she, he, she-he, had enough common sense to recognize the murderous look Gabriel had in his eyes and not taunt him any further. The leather-clad men danced around and finished the refrain.
She's the devil with the blue dress, blue dress, blue dress,
Devil with the blue dress on
Devil with the blue dress, blue dress, blue dress,
Devil with the blue dress on
"At least we found our devil," Audrey said. "Do you think she realizes that's no costume he's wearing?"
"You saw her when she first looked at him," the Reverend said. "She knew exactly who he was. She made him promise to respect her patrons before she'd allow him entrance."
"She said she knew his kind always keeps their promises," Audrey said thoughtfully. "How would she know that, other than crap spewed out by big religion?"
"We'll just have to wait and find out," the Reverend said.
After another round of refrains, Lena finished her song and let Gabriel off the hook, gesturing him back towards the bar where she had found him as the audience exploded in applause. Gabriel went back to his corner, tucking his wings in so tightly to the wall he looked like a statue. Gabriel hadn't wanted to come in here at all. She decided she'd better show some appreciation … fast.
"Thank you," Audrey said, shouting over the music. She touched the bare skin on his arm just above his leather wrist-braces. "I know you really didn't want to do that."
Gabriel just gave her a sullen expression, very displeased at being forced to go into a bar and turn himself into a stage prop.
It had been a long time since she'd seen him wear his armor, even if it was only partial armor. She'd forgotten how well it accentuated the bulging muscles in his arms. Gabriel had stopped losing weight and begun to bulk up again about two months ago, eating better and working out several hours each day.
Being cast out of heaven had not only been emotionally traumatic. It had also been extremely physically traumatic as well, nearly killing him. Whatever transformation his body had needed to accomplish to exist down here on Earth, it appeared he had finally made the transition and was on his way to regaining his former strength. Audrey realized her hand had lingered on his arm, the noisy room behind her fading as the only thing that registered on her consciousness was the warmth under her fingertips and the curious way it made her heart beat faster. Gabriel studied her eyes carefully, his sullen expression fading at her touch.
"I'm sorry I teased you earlier," Audrey said, certain the music was so loud he couldn't hear. "I meant no disrespect."
Gabriel reached out and touched her chin, drawing her eyes up to meet to his.
"I am not made of stone, little Prophet," Gabriel said, his anger gone and an expression she could only equate as sorrow replacing it. "The Father exacts a heavy price from those who disobey."
"How do you know you'd be disobeying?" Audrey asked, her heart beating in her ears, anxious to hear the answer.
"Because you were not so marked until after I asked," Gabriel said, leaning close to whisper that last statement into her ear so he did not need to shout it over the music.
Her heart sank. She knew exactly what mark he was talking about, and she knew exactly when it had appeared. The day they had found the first disciple, the Reverend. The day she had woken up in his arms in the pink Cadillac in the garish Elvis chapel, Gabriel so tenderly holding her in his arms after her episode channeling her peculiar gift of defiance.
Gabriel was in love with her, and the Father had told him 'no.'