“That’s your whole problem, Martha. You
Helen rolled her eyes. “Oh, come
“It’s not like that
Annie snorted. “Oh,
“Actually, Angelica’s practically giving it away these days,” said Martha. “She’s got all these priestesses teaching new initiates—”
“Priestesses?” howled Annie. “Now she’s got
“Annie,” growled Helen.
“Priestesses! I bet she passes the collection basket, too! Man, what a crock! Meet the new boss, same as the old boss. This one’s got tits and a twat, that’s all.”
Helen raised her voice above Virgie and Lyla’s angry protests. “Annie, you are being
“Oh yeah? Well, maybe you should just go with them and get in touch with your secret lunar self. I’m leaving.”
Annie stormed from the table. She paused to stare disdainfully at the crescent moon on Lyla’s cheek. “Hey, that’s pretty cutting edge—only you and ninety thou-sand other girls have one of those.” She headed for the door.
“It’s a sensitive topic,” said Helen, sighing. Martha put her arm around Virgie. Lyla just looked mad. “Look, I’ll go calm her down—but let’s not talk about religion anymore, okay?”
“I thought she’d
“Hush,” said Martha.
Helen found Annie just outside the front door of the Inn, leaning against the wall. Down the street the usual nighttime crowd was starting to gather in front of Spiritus. A few yards away, a streetlamp’s shining globe cast a rippling silver reflection on the dark surface of the water, the bright circle breaking into fluid coils when the breeze stirred it. From a sailboat at anchor echoed laughter and the strains of dance music.
“If you think I’m going back in there, you are out of your fucking mind.”
Helen smiled in spite of herself, reached to stroke Annie’s neck. “Don’t you think you were overreacting a little?”
“No.”
“Oh, come on—Charles
“Angelica di Rienzi could eat Charles Manson for breakfast. Probably she already has,” Annie added darkly.
“I think you’re carrying around just a teensy bit of personal baggage, Annie. I know you said you never wanted to talk about Angelica, and I’ve always respected that, but this has kind of gotten out of hand. I mean, they’re just a couple of dopey kids, that’s all! Virgie’s crying, Martha is totally bummed, and Lyla the Bee Queen looks like she is getting in touch with a very pissed-off inner goddess.”
“Good,” snapped Annie, but her mouth twisted into a half smile. “Maybe next time they won’t ruin my show.”
Helen sighed. “Well, I don’t think you’re going to get much repeat business from those two. Listen, Martha says there’s some kind of dance party out at Herring Cove tonight—”
“Yeah,” said Annie, nodding. From here you could just glimpse where the narrow spit of land curved to face the Adantic, a hazy darkness spangled with a few bobbing lights. “In the old boathouse there. Patrick told me about it; he knows one of the guys who’ve put it together. They’re supposed to have a fabulous sound and light show.”
“So let’s go and dance. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“Oh, sure! A bunch of kids on X and vitamins—”
“You used to
Annie shook her head stubbornly. “If I ever loosen up, the world will come to an end. You know that. I’m the only thing standing between you and the dark of Mordor—”
“Hey. You know what, Annie?
Helen took Annie’s chin in her hand, stared into her dark eyes, and then kissed her, long and slow, her hand dropping to stroke her lover’s breast beneath the thin black T-shirt. After a minute she drew back and there was Annie, her face slightly flushed, the blazing light in her eyes somewhat softened. “You remember how to dance, don’t you?”
Annie nodded, her mouth breaking into a slow grin. “Sure. You just put your lips together, and
And drawing Helen close, she kissed her again.
When they got to Herring Cove Beach the party was in high gear, the rickety old boathouse shaking dangerously as music throbbed inside and the party spilled out onto the sand, hundreds of bodies thrashing and moving ecstatically.
“Now I know why the bar was empty,” Annie shouted.
“It’s been going on since this morning,” Martha yelled back. “I’m surprised they haven’t gotten busted.”
“They will if they stay out on the beach like that.” Annie handed the boy at the door a ten-dollar bill. He glanced at her and did a double take.
“Yo, Annie Harmony! Great time inside—”
He stamped her palm with a little smiling Goofy face in purple ink.
“What, no change?” Annie looked down at the zippered cash bag that sat in the lap of the huge bodybuilder helping guard the door. “Ten dollars so I can get sand in my drink?”
“Ten bucks, ten bucks,” he yelled, his head nodding up and down. “Chem free, smart drinks at the other door, no drinking inside—”
“Oh, yeah,
“Enough, Annie!” Martha and Helen pulled her through the door.
She felt like she was inside a fireworks display, all explosive sound and color and motion. The boathouse was the only structure on this stretch of the protected seashore, a place curiously ignored by the local constabulary, most of the time. You could drink or cruise or engage in just about any carnal pastime you wanted there. Its piers had been bored by sea worms and salt, the roof was missing most of its shingles, the whole thing flooded whenever it stormed. There were ragged holes in walls and ceiling. Annie’s sneaker got stuck in the gap between two floorboards. When she bent to yank it out, she could see through the hole to where black water lapped at the rocks and pilings below. She straightened and found herself alone on a patch of empty floor. The DJ had shoved a new song into the sound system, and everyone seemed to have rushed to the far wall. She could just make out Helen and Martha dancing a few yards away. Of Virgie and Lyla she saw nothing; they had stalked off as soon as they got here, whispering and casting baleful stares in Annie’s direction.
