John stood, hands in pockets, in an unimpressive street in front of a nondescript door set apart from its neighbors by a purple light. "Are you sure that this is the place?" he asked. "It doesn't look like a bar. It looks closed."
"The light is on, and it's not that late. If you hadn't wasted all of that time dithering in front of the post office we would have been here sooner," Harry said as she and Jazz led the way in. John followed.
The entry was dark, but it opened out into a cabaret set with round candle-lit tables surrounding a stage. A tall woman with pink hair and a red dress was singing a love song. She moved with the music in a way that set off her narrow hips, too narrow. John looked again. Suddenly he understood what Harry and Jazz had been joking about all of the way here, about how he would become 'a new man'.
He looked around for a quiet table in the back only to find most of them already taken, mostly by single men, but some by couples. John stared at one couple wondering if they were really a man and a woman as he had first thought, before Harry chided him for being rude. She pulled him to a table closer to the stage.
John looked down at the scarf-covered table. He picked up a purple matchbook that said Brandywine. This was the sort of place where they still printed matchbooks even though smoking indoors was now against the law. John wondered what people used the matches for. Burning evidence perhaps?
Suddenly John felt eyes watching him and he looked up to see a tall woman (man?) towering over him. She had black hair piled up in a bouffant hair-do and was wearing a blue sequined floor-length dress. Her make-up covered face made her look dramatic and fairly beautiful.
"Brandywine!" Harry said reaching out a hand to her which she took in both of hers, smiling.
"Harry darling, and Jazz," she said in a deep sensuous voice, "So good to see you again so soon. And who is this incredibly handsome young man?"
"I'm not that young. I'm certainly no younger than you," John said.
"Oh I like him," Brandywine said extending a manicured hand.
"This is my brother, John Watson. John, this is Brandywine," Harry introduced them.
"Pleased to meet you," John said reaching out to shake her hand.
She took his hand and clasped it between both of hers before sitting down in the chair next to him. John jumped up to adjust her chair, and she smiled broadly. "I must say Harry, you have the most charming brother. Why did you never bring him before?"
"Well, My brother and I don't often socialize together," Harry said, "You see..."
"Harry!" John interrupted knowing what she was about to say.
"I was just going to say that we needed her help," Harry said kicking him below the table.
Brandywine looked back and forth between the two of them. "My help? How can I help you?"
"Well," Harry said leaning forward and lowering her voice," he wants to get away for a while, but he will very likely be followed. He needs to not be recognized, you understand?"
Brandywine flashed an enigmatic smile and then batted her large lashes at John. Just then the stage lights dimmed and when they came up again, there was a white-faced figure covered by a large billowy black hooded robe. The face was white and as perfectly formed as a mask. She stood still for a second, sure that all eyes in the room were on her before she dropped the robe to reveal a strapless white floor length gown. John had to look twice to make sure than she was a man. But the shoulders were a bit too straight and was that shadow chest hair?
John felt a touch on the back of his hand. He turned to look into Brandywine's dark eyes,"The art of the female impersonator is the art of illusion," she said leaning over to whisper in his ear. "You may think that the best female impersonators are those that look most like women, but you would be wrong. The best impersonators always have a tell-tell hint that makes you suspect that she is not. You wonder 'is she or isn't she?' It is the ambiguity that makes her so alluring. That makes her not just male or female, but a goddess. It's a powerful feeling. Once you've tried it, it's hard to give up.
"I don't want to be..." John began but Brandywine hushed him with a finger on her burgundy colored lips.
She turned to Harry. "I can't do anything without interviewing him first." She raised a hand, and a waiter materialized at her side. "Give these fine, young ladies a drink on me will you Rae? I'm going to take John here to my office."
Brandywine rose from her chair and reached out her hand to grasp John's. He took it and she sashayed out of the room pulling him behind her. More than one set of eyes followed them as they passed.
A man in a silver dress and high heels rushed out of a dressing room and asked another man if he had seen his razor. When they had left, John turned around to see Brandywine standing before an open door. She motioned for him to go inside.
John didn't know exactly what he was expecting. A pink upholstered couch and lace curtains perhaps, but not the plain rectangular business office with the wooden desk and the green fake leather chair. She closed the door. "Take a seat John," she said lowering herself behind the desk.
John looked around the office. The walls were covered with framed posters of her glory days as a headliner. There were also pictures of Brandywine standing next to celebrities and dignitaries that showed that she was quite a bit older than John had thought. She had really aged well. "So John," she began, "you need to get away. Why?"
John puckered his lips and took a breath, "I have a wife, and a friend who are after me to ...make a decision, and I can't think clearly when either of them are around. I need some time away to think things through. It's confusing. I don't know if you can understand."
"Oh, I think that I do understand you, John. Your problem is not as uncommon as you might think. There are many people out there who have problems with family who don't understand them. Sometimes they even send people after them, to find them, even to hurt them. The world is not kind to people who are different."
"I'm not gay," John said.
"Did I say that you were?" Brandywine countered. "Pardon me. I don't mean to seem nosy, but helping people is not without risk, and I won't do it without a good reason. Tell me about you, John. How do you feel now?"
John sat back in the chair, and then he crossed his arms facing away as he began, "I feel ... like I'm being pulled apart, dissected. Like my emotions are being taken out and examined and some are being thrown away. Like I'm a flag in a storm blowing violently back and forth never knowing where the next breeze will take me, only knowing that it will rip me to shreds. I try to aim for a goal, only to find that my compass is off, and I've missed the destination by miles. I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know who I'm supposed to be, and I can't just keep smiling and pretending that it will all be alright. I just... don't want to feel this way anymore, and I know that neither of them will ever let me go."
John put his head in his hands and sighed, then he sat back and licked his lips nervously. "So, is my reason good enough?" he asked his eyes questioning, "Will you help me?".
Brandywine looked into John's earnest eyes and smiled. "Yes, I'll help you," she said, "for you honey, I'd face them off myself. I could sense your desperation the moment you sat in that chair. I will help you get away, but I want you to consider this. The people who really love you will accept your decisions whatever they are. Maybe not immediately, but eventually."
Brandywine stood and walked around the desk to the door. John jumped up to open the door for her and she smiled at him as she said. "Oh and John, about you not being gay. I have a confession to make." She leaned down to whisper in his ear and said, " I'm not either." Then she adjusted her wig and strode out of the room.