Dyke in the Heart of Texas

The three sisters and their mother, Jewel, entered the gate and sat next to the closed pool. It was about midnight on a hot June night and the country club had been closed for two hours. Juju’s mother worked at the country club three days a week making salads and other side dishes for the daily buffet. It was her mother’s way of helping her aging and not so healthy father, the chef at the club.

Jewel had a second job during the day at Bell Helicopter in Hurst, Juju’s hometown. At Bell Jewel prepared and served a daily lunch buffet as well, only there, to employees of the worldwide helicopter company. Jewel had taken the Bell job when Juju entered fifth-grade as a way to supplement the family income. Jewel had worked hard her entire life, raising seven children, odd jobs and this, the summer of her fifty-second year, was no different.

Jewel had worked at both locations that Friday night in 1973 and she was hot and tired..tired to the bone. Sitting there, gazing at the pool, she suddenly got to her feet and started to disrobe! “Mother! What are you doing!!??” asked Joyce. I think that water looks damn good, Jewel responded, it looks like an invitation to go skinny-dipping! Juju started laughing as she watched her mother strip!

Two of Juju’s older sisters, Joan and Joyce, had come down to the club on the premise of a late night swim, but not a skinny dip! It was daring enough for them to swim after the pool had closed…daring for Jewel meant no swimsuit. One spotlight illuminated the front of the clubhouse and another at the rear. There was sparse light flickering off the water as Juju jumped off the diving board in all her glory!

The older girls, giggling and nervously chatting followed their mother’s lead and all four were soon cool and relaxed on a long ago Texas night. Jewel regaled her daughters with stories about skinny-dipping while growing up in Fort Worth during the Great Depression. Cheap entertainment she said, who could afford a swimsuit back then?

Juju wondered aloud if they could get in trouble for what they were doing? No said Jewel, she had gotten permission to swim after hours from the club general manager. “Did you neglect to tell her we would be naked??” Joan inquired. Everything they said that night was met with laughter…everything is funnier when you are staring at three naked women. Maybe we shouldn’t call this a skinny-dip Juju said, I don’t see anyone close to skinny here!

Juju watched her mother and couldn’t believe what she was witnessing! The woman who usually got her cardio chasing her around the house with a fly swatter was doing laps in the pool and mooning her!

Friday nights at the club were “all you can eat” shrimp peel night. Juju and her family loved Friday nights because her father would come home with the leftovers! Newspaper would be put all over the kitchen table and a big white tub of shrimp would be dumped out in the middle.
The night had started with a shrimp feast and now was ending with Juju seeing another side of her mother…a goofy, care-free side. Juju marked the moment in her memory. She floated under the diving board and watched her mother and sisters giggle into the night. Even at twelve, Juju knew that certain events tend to stick with you a long time….this was one of those times.

“You are trespassing!! I am calling the police!” said the man’s voice. Juju, startled and scared…nowhere to run…saw a man’s shadow walking from the back door of the club. As the man got closer, Jewel recognized him as Emmet, the dishwasher. The four not-so skinny dippers swam hastily to the front edge of the pool and pulled themselves in tight! “Hey there Emmet, it’s Jewel! I have some of my kids here swimming, everything is okay!” An exchange of pleasantries took place, and Emmet was heading home. Jewel, not seeing any cars in the parking lot, had thought they were safe from discovery, but had forgotten Emmet always had his wife pick him up. More laughter bounced down the hills of the golf course as Emmet got into his ride. Poor, old Emmet was never the wiser, never knowing how close he had come to seeing four sets of Billhymer…shall we say…flotation devices.

The girls, having enough, exited the pool to get dressed. Juju looked back and watched Jewel enjoy herself a few minutes more swimming back and forth alone in the pool. The next day Jewel would be the salad lady again, making sure the club women had the best produce in town available to them. She would walk past the pool on her way to the back door kitchen entrance, carrying only a secret.

Juju worked the snack bar the next day and sat there staring out the window at the packed pool. On that particular day she was not envious of the club kids and their leisurely fun. The crowd before her disappeared and all Juju could see was her mother. There was Jewel throwing her bra over her left shoulder and running butt-naked into the water. Not many people have a memory of their mother like that, Juju thought. From that day on, the moonlight swims her mother suggested took on a whole other meaning.

So I’ve heard some press that the world is coming to an end tomorrow. That means two things to me; the Texas Rangers will never win the World Series and I don’t have to pick up my dry cleaning this afternoon.

I actually don’t care if the world is ending tomorrow. Humans are going to figure out a way to screw it all up anyway…just a matter of time if it doesn’t occur in the next 24 hours. And talk about eliminating all grief, pain and suffering….if we all go together, what does any of it matter? What does matter….matter?

The thought came to me this morning that I could tell everyone I know what I really thought of them today. Then I realized everyone I know already have an inkling of what my feelings are towards them. If you haven’t picked up the phone in a year and asked, “hey Juju, how the hell are you?” Odds are you know I don’t waste my energy thinking of you…except as I type this sentence.

If the world ends tomorrow I will not find out who would have won this season’s American Idol….pity. I told Linda the first week of the final 25 who would be in the finale. The same voting block that brings you the likes of Taylor Hicks, Lee DeWyze, and Carrie Underwood are the tween kids of the people that bring you Rick Santorum, Joe Wilson, and Glenn Beck. That show is about as predictable as Rick Perry’s hair…stiff and totally in-line with the Puritanistic core of America.

I might have donuts for dinner tonight. We all get to share in the delight of those death row inmates in the Texas Department of Corrections….we all get to pick our last meal.
What will yours be? Don’t want to die tomorrow…didn’t do anything wrong to warrant that type of treatment? Neither did a percentage of the inmates on death row…now do you feel their pain? Oh and I might eat a big T-bone steak….screw the vegetarian diet…the cow is dead already….pass the rolls and butter while you are at it.

To the people that owe me money….I am not forgiving your debt. Even if we meet at the gates of hell, you still owe me for that DWI defense…I will bring the tequila.

I honestly think that the end and hell for me would indeed involve Rapture….the Blondie hit from the 80s. Hell for me would be that song on eternal “replay”…with interjected commercials about Oxyclean screamed by a coke snorting guy in a blue shirt.

.. and the dead in Christ shall rise first: Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord. Thessalonians 4:15-17

Notice the citation for this biblical passage regarding the rapture…4-15-17. That is when I am guessing the end of the world will happen. You heard it here first folks….my soul will be flung on the roof and no one will be able to retrieve it on tax day, 2017.

That gives me some solace and comfort….first knowing that tonight is not my last night on earth. Secondly …knowing for the tax year of 2016 we can all thumb our nose up at the IRS together. What a glorious, bipartisan way to go out?!! A national, unified finger lifted together…an appropriate hand signal for one last hurrah for Americans of all walks of life.

But just in case….just in case this is the end and this is the last blog ever for me….I have one last confession.

I voted for Ronald Reagan in 1984.

Juju stood there at the podium and looked out at the faces of about 450 disinterested teenagers. She could feel her thighs sweating, the crotch of her mother’s panty hose hanging down just a little north of her knees! The smart, maroon print, polyester jacket and short skirt would look fantastic on maybe .001% of the earth’s population, needless to say Juju was not in that minority. Scabs on both knees were visible through the tan stockings, badges of honor really, the result of a dive into the dugout for an errant foul ball the previous Saturday morning. She cleared her throat and tapped the microphone to make sure it was working. From the back of the gymnasium she heard, “You Suck!”

Juju gave her speech for student council secretary, periodically looking down at the bullet points she had jotted down on index cards. As she spoke she wondered what on earth had made her want to do this??!! The entire election was just a foregone conclusion, five popular ninth graders had lined up to take the council officer positions. The assembly for the speeches was kinda like the Dating Game she thought. Even though the guy couldn’t see the girls, you knew the blonde sitting in the middle with the large….uh…with the cute answers was going to get picked. Juju enthralled a couple of teachers and her best friends with her plans for the infra-structure of the school and her hopes to create a student charity account for the community. She heard about six people slap their hands together as she swished (panty-hose) back to her seat and sat down.

Juju’s competitor for the office of student council secretary was the head cheerleader of the school. Her name was Kim and this was her entire speech. “Hey, you guys all vote for me. Student council will be so much fun!! Far out!! Kim sat down to thunderous applause and whistles. It wasn’t so much an ovation as it was a victory celebration, case closed. Kim was the expectant. giggling date sitting in the middle.

Kim sat down next to Juju, in her nicely pressed cheerleader uniform, tanned legs, and bright white Keds. Juju wondered if she could walk home at lunch and change into her jeans, no use in being miserable for the rest of the day. She was embarrassed to tell anyone that she hadn’t owned a dress and had bought it special. Juju’s mother had taken her shopping the previous night to help her get ready for the big speech. Juju knew she didn’t stand a chance, and she believed her mother was of the same opinion. “You just march right up there and show them what you are made of Juju! Sometimes in life you just have to do things that might not allow you to grab the brass ring, but perhaps will yield the unexpected” That is what Juju heard that evening at her house in another speech…her mother’s.

The election day came and the five ninth graders, the hip kids, all won in a landslide. Juju got about twelve votes, eleven if you didn’t count her own. She was trying hard to find the big yield like her mother had told her about.

A couple of months later Juju was working her school job as student aid in the principal’s office, it was the period right before lunch. Secretary Kim came bopping into the office on an errand to retrieve the cheerleader coach’s mail. Juju got the mail and handed it to Kim saying, “hope you are doing well on the council, I don’t have any hard feelings toward you.” Kim got a quizzical look on her face and wondered why Juju had said that? The cheerleader didn’t even remember Juju was the one she had slaughtered in the election. “Whatever” was her response and she turned and cheerleadered herself down the hall.

The yield….there it was. The election was decided because Kim was a hot cheerleader and Juju was a sweating, 7th grade nerd/girl jock. The school got what they deserved Juju thought. In life if you choose for reasons that are not on point, you get someone who can’t stay on that same point. Kim had been more focused on that starched cheerleader outfit than her own opponent…and it had worked for her.

Juju managed to fulfill one of her campaign promises to be more active in her charitable efforts. Not long after, she unceremoniously dropped the maroon polyester skirt set at the local Goodwill Store. As her mother drove off Juju wondered if the next owner of the outfit would be in the .001 percentile or if they would have the guts to go for the brass ring? She was hoping for the latter…and possibly a Slurpee on the way home.

President Charlie Sheen announced today that he had appointed Lindsey Lohan as the new U.S. Ambassador to Columbia. The forty-five year old Lohan said at the press conference, “I am interested in opening up the import/export of product out of Columbia by working on easing up trade restrictions between the two countries.”

Ms. Lohan was asked about the recent New York Times article stating that the melding of the entertainment world with Washington D.C. was the worst thing to ever happen to the country? Lohan retorted, “Well, I have to dispute that. Did you see George W. Bush on Law and Order last night? Not only did he look fantastic for 85, I thought he played the part of the lying, cheating, murderer spot on!”

In other news, President Sheen announced that he would be spending the entire month of August at Camp David with his goddesses, or First Ladies 1, 2, 3, and 4 as they are known throughout the world. He divulged little about the vacation other than the fact that next week there will be a private party on the grounds. P.Diddy IV will be performing live with the likes of Zachary Jackson Levon Furnish-John and others on the playbill.

Right Wingers and Tea Party members continue to rally in middle-America. The premise of their complaints is basically that legalizing gay marriage in 2014 was the catalyst that made our country go to hell in a hand basket. They had always thought that after that we would legalize goats marrying dogs….they didn’t think we would get a coke-head in the White House. They are still trying to perfect their agenda and are earnestly trying to tie everything into one catch phrase: “It’s the Queer’s Fault!” In response to the attacks the HRC pointed out today the divorce rate in heteros has stayed steady at 50% while the divorce rate of queers was only 20%.

Vice-President Justin Bieber declined to comment after repeated requests to his office. Bieber is planning a trip to Israel this summer at the Seventy-Eighth Middle East Peace Talks. He stated he feels confident peace will come soon between the Israelis and the Palestinians…if only they can work that Gaza Strip issue out. Post Israel, the Vice-President is stopping at Euro-Disneyland to be the headliner in the Oldies, But Goodies Tour of 2031. Other headliners for the big show are Willow Smith, Usher, and Jerry Lee Lewis. Lewis, 96 is still touring he says to support his new cousin-bride, who just turned 18.

Washington was shocked today when the Speaker of the House announced that she would not run for re-election in 32 and was stepping down. Speaker Paris Hilton stated she wanted to focus more on her humanity work and besides, “they won’t let my little puppy in the House Chamber and I am sick of all the dark suits.”

Both Houses of Congress approved a amendment today eliminating the Electoral College and our system of voting for a U.S. President. President Sheen is expected to sign the document into law at Camp David. Sheen, in his second term, welcomed the change and stated that he was sure voter turn out would triple in the new format.

The 2032 elections will be the first cycle where we will vote for the new leader of the free world via telephone. The producers of American Idol are very proud to be the designated phone bank for the election. Starting next year Americans can vote on their favorite singer and while on the line, cast their vote for President. Past Idol winner Taylor Hicks is testing the waters and gathering campaign funds as I write this, eager to toss his grey mop into the ring. “I am kinda tired of playing Branson, I thought I might try politics,” stated Hicks.

Governor Joel Burns of the great state of Texas announced good news today. The state has gone an entire year without a child being born and named “Bubba.” Burns also announced that the Texas Education Board is finally seated with educated Texans, a first for the state.

So it seems, even with the mixing of Hollywood and Washington celebrities, the U.S. is still the best place to live in the world. We no longer go to air strikes first to solve international problems and conflicts. We send Oprah, she gives everyone involved 12 free sessions with Dr. Phil and a new Chevy. The sparring factions are also given a copy of “The New Earth” and invited to Winfrey’s Santa Barbara ranch at a later date as a follow up.

The former President and Nobel Peace Prize winner, Winfrey says she is happy to help humanity, that is why she is on earth. When asked what she does when talks hit a stalemate? Winfrey yelled, “I say things three times and loud and it just somehow works out. It does work out. I don’t know how it works, but it does.”

In sports today, Peyton Manning, Jr. threw three touchdowns and beat the North Texas Cowboys. The Pokes continue to struggle internally, but Jerry Jones refuses to step down as General Manager. Coach Tommy Buttlicker had no comment.

This blog was originally published under the title “A Love Letter.”
It has been updated and is currently featured on Blogher.com so I re-post it today for that reason

Some of you have asked if I currently have a life-partner. I do, I actually have a wife….we were married in Dana Point, California on October 3, 2008. We are two of the 18,000 queer people who are legally married in California, having married during a brief time of legality before the passing of Proposition 8. Prop 8 made marriage between same-sex couples illegal again after its passage.

Perry v. Schwarzenegger is making its way up the judicial ladder, currently awaiting a setting in the California Supreme Court. Perry is the landmark California case concerning the fight over Prop 8. The basic argument by the Plaintiff’s is strong legally, based on the Due Process and Equal Protection Clauses of the Fourteenth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. California has no rational basis or vested interest in denying gays and lesbians marriage licenses. Anyone with the ability to read can come to that conclusion, the hard part is getting people to admit it. Gay bias makes people turn away from cold hard facts…it takes ignorance to discriminate when the laws in place are on point!

Imagine what you would feel like if strangers were deciding if you could marry the person you loved? Americans against gay marriage argue we are a democracy and the voice of the people shall stand…always!
Frankly, I always have thought that is the biggest problem with people’s definition of that style of governing. It took Loving v. Virginia to allow interracial couples to marry…the majority would have never allowed it.

The majority of Americans read on a 7th grade level and have actually never even picked up a copy of the United States Constitution. If you haven’t read it lately, Google it today when you have time. It is actually good reading, a beautiful document.

The 14th Amendment, Section 1 to the Constitution reads as follows:
All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.

Plain English? As a queer girl I get the same rights as a straight girl and equal protection under the law. I cannot be denied any right or privilege heterosexuals have by any state as long as I am a citizen of the United States…it is illegal to do so. Wow, that sounds surprisingly simple!

Notice it doesn’t mention religion, we have that little rule “separation of church and state” in America. My marriage has nothing to do with your religion or any one else’s religion. It is a civil ceremony and a civil right if I am a citizen of these United States.

Facebook recently decided to add two categories to the information section regarding your relationship status. They have added “in domestic partnership” and “in a civil union” to the descriptor list. To me, that is the equivalent of saying to a black person, “you still have to sit at the back of the bus, but we have added extra cushion and really nice red velvet to the section!” Thanks, but no thanks!! Members of the LGBT community must not cave!! REFUSE ANYTHING BUT TOTAL EQUALITY!!

The Declaration of Independence is worth a re-read…check out this part of the preamble, in particular:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

I had the officiate of my wedding read that very passage at the beginning of the ceremony. We were pursuing our happiness as every day, good old, law-abiding, American citizens.

Oh, okay…back to my wife. For the purpose of this blog we will call her “Linda.” Well, because her name is Linda. We had been together for nine years when I proposed, having lived through previous relationships that were not the right fit…this was indeed, the right fit.

I met Linda through mutual friends and knew right away that my life would never be the same. She is as good, honest, and caring of a person as you will ever meet. It’s ten years later and I am still trying to figure out what she sees in me. I will go the rest of my life protecting her interests, her happiness is always at the forefront of my mind.

We booked the trip, making reservations at the St. Regis at Monarch Beach. It is a glorious, 5 star resort…the setting would be a white gazebo, at sunset, overlooking the Pacific. We were surrounded by a great group of family and friends that were witness to our testimony of commitment. Customs and ceremonies do matter…rituals matter, the the word “marriage” matters….legality matters. It changed our relationship for the better and continues to do so, we are legit.

I am not as tough as my appearance would suggest. I blubber like a baby all the time and my wedding was no different. It had not occurred to me when I was a child that I would ever get a day like October 3, 2008. I didn’t have a phrase for it then, like I do now….but I felt I was a second-class citizen.

Wedding showers and walks down the aisle were for all the other girls, not me. Some argue I could have had it all, if only I had married a man.
My pursuit of truth and the drive for my inalienable rights does not include living a lie…that looks like the contradiction it is, even as I type this sentence.

This is a love letter. I am unabashedly in love with Linda, my spouse….who just happens to be a woman….I feel good today and every day because of that love. I want to spend the rest of my life with her…wouldn’t it be nice if we could do that legally in Texas? The law is clear, our hearts are full, we demand equality. Take your civil-union status and domestic partnerships and put them…well, you know. We are a married couple, it is a lawful union, we are not second class citizens!

I cannot change anything about me or her…the genetic groundwork was done for us long ago. If this was a choice, why would we choose to be part of a minority that is disparaged and rebuked daily? To my detractors, I say, “Why does our love lessen yours?”

I don’t know, maybe I am missing the boat. This all seems unmitigated when you see it in black and white…if only a 7th grader could understand it.

You know I never let an opportunity go by the way-side when it can benefit my number one cause, today is no different. As I monitor on my computer the activity and excitement unfolding in Cairo, I have a mixed bag of emotions. Of course, I am like most Americans in hoping that Egypt establishes a democratic government with a constitution that ensures equal rights for all. But I am also irritated when I listen to the pundits, on both sides of the political spectrum, in the U.S. talk about how they yearn for equal rights for all Egyptians. I screamed at the TV this morning…..get angry for me!! Take to the streets for me and others like me!! Today I am walking like an Egyptian.

I am angry. I am tired. I use this blog to rant and rave sometimes, maybe I should use it to do my part to start a revolution here on American soil. I wonder what would happen if thousands upon thousands of gay Americans traveled to New York City for a massive protest? We could shut down the city, we would make the world take notice. A non-violent sit-in reminiscent of the 1960s might serve us nicely. Take a seat with your latte, dressed in Prada young man….and don’t get up until you can marry your partner in any state in the union! Non-violent doesn’t mean not angry. I want you to get pissed!! I want some righteous fury to come out of you!! I want our liberal political leaders to do their damn job and ensure justice for all. I want the gay celebrities to stop worrying about their bank accounts and to join us, regardless of the consequences!!!

Gay Americans lack a leader with some fire in his/her gullet. We need another Harvey Milk. Milk knew how to work/use the system, but he didn’t take crap from anybody. Who among us is going to stand up and be the voice of the movement?? After Clinton failed us….I waited 8 years for Obama and he is a major disappointment. I have blogged before that an ex-Constitutional Law professor should look into the camera and announce to the world that the 14th Amendment stands for everyone and that gay marriage is not an issue to be argued, it is already a right to be had!!

The Egyptian people witnessed what happened in Tunisia and have now changed the future of their country. They didn’t think about it for years, or go to caucus or to the courtroom. The citizens of Egypt said 30 years of oppression is ENOUGH and we are taking it to the streets!! Eighteen days later and a 30 year dictatorship is ending….now that is what I call affirmative action! I want to walk like an Egyptian from this day on out!!
Will you have the courage to join me? If you are not angry, look in the mirror and ask yourself why not???

I am angry that I am eleven years into the 21st Century and I am talking about this subject!! I am not going to be satisfied for gay rights to move along with baby-steps or at a snail’s pace or any other analogy you want to use. Get up off your ass today and refuse to be a second-class citizen!
I have been one for forty-nine years and I am sick of it!

If a video of two cats playing patty-cake can go viral on You.tube then why can’t this message get the same treatment? I think I just answered my question….we are a nation that cares more about who wins on Dancing with the Stars than who is elected as your congress-person. We are a nation where Sarah Palin is seriously considered to be a Presidential prospect in 2012. Get angry with me people!!!

I am angry with my fellow gay Americans too. If you are in the closet, come out….reveal yourself! It is time for all the pretense to end…it is time to be true to yourself and to the revolution! When a woman was asked in the square of Cairo why she was out there in the middle of the night…blood streaming down her forehead after getting hit with a flying rock…why was it she was out there when she had children at home?? The woman answered, “Because I am an Egyptian. I want my children to be proud to be Egyptian. I want to be free!” Do you have that kind of fire within you? Are you disgusted enough to put it all on the line to stand up for a just cause? Are you ready to walk like an Egyptian??

I read an article this week that basically had one premise. You want to shut up all the talk of gay rights today, during every political campaign, every day from here on out?? GIVE US EQUALITY!! Canadians NEVER talk about gay rights! IT IS A NON-ISSUE because every Canadian has the same rights. WANT TO SHUT ME UP? WANT ME TO STOP BLOGGING ABOUT THIS SUBJECT? Make me a first class citizen and the only thing I will have to blog about is the weather! I welcome becoming a boring, main-stream citizen whose biggest issue is what to have for dinner tonight.

I want the movement angry and evolving….I want a revolution. I am calling you out today to join me. Perry v. Arnold Schwarzenegger will be heard by the Supreme Court in the coming year…hopefully. I now except that the Court is a political entity having abandoned their unbiased, judicial role in our three-pronged system of government in 2000.
Having accepted that I am looking for other avenues to fight the oppression and the people in Tahrir Square have given me focus. With that newfound focus and the clarity of knowledge that this country was founded by people seeking their own voice, religious freedom and individual rights for all. With my one voice I call for yours today. It is time to talk the talk and walk the walk…..like an Egyptian.

Juju sat under the bridge and listened as her neighbor and sister convinced her that she was, in fact, adopted. Look how old our parents are, Junene said….they don’t even sleep in the same room for craps sake! Rod, their cross the street neighbor, and Junene started to weave a story that flowed as easily from their mouths as the slow stream of water at their feet.

This explained everything Juju thought…she knew she was different, suddenly all the pieces were falling together in her mind! She quickly ran down the creek bed, up the concrete side behind her neighbor’s house, and sprinted across Oak Street to her front door. Juju had a sick feeling in her stomach, but was excited at the same time. No wonder her siblings were so much older and a mystery to her, she was adopted!

Juju’s mother was washing dishes as she bounded into the room. Where is your sister? Juju, thought quickly of a fib, not wanting to tell her mother that Junene was at their secret hiding place smoking cigarettes with their neighbor, Rod. I think she walked up to the 5 and Dime. (Juju had to cover for her sister often and resented the fact that she had become adept at being a liar, maybe it would help her in a future career choice) She felt double guilt because she had seen on the TV news that menthol cigarettes could make your lungs bleed and she knew Junene preferred Kool Menthols…..because she thought they were kool.

Juju entered her bedroom and pulled out a photo album, she turned the pages to a group shot of her family. Scanning the picture, she started to notice dissimilarities in herself and the rest of the family. It was scary it was so obvious! Who are these people!?! What did Juju’s real family look like?? Thoughts were racing through Juju’s mind….what did her real parents do? Surely her real father was an US Ambassador to some country she had never heard of….and her real mother….oh, wouldn’t it be grand if her real mother was Rosalind Russell? Ever since Juju had seen the movie, The Trouble with Angels, she had loved the actress Rosalind Russell. She imagined visiting the film set and spending weekends on a California beach where the movie stars all lived.

Juju decided that her adopted parents had done a really nice thing taking her in….she loved them, but she would have to tell them she knew the truth now. Why had Junene waited until she was 9 to tell her? Maybe the tickle feeling in her stomach when she saw Captain von Trapp kiss Maria in The Sound of Music had something to do with her being adopted. Did other little girls want to kiss Maria?Maybe there were more people in California that felt the way Juju did?

Juju was sitting in the living room listening to her older sisters talk back and forth. Sometimes it felt like they were speaking a different language, or in secret code. It was Sunday afternoon and they had come by to eat dinner. Junene joined their conversation effortlessly as Juju sat on the green bean bag chair and listened. She had decided that she would confront her adopted mother Jewel that night.

Juju watched as Jewel sat on the couch reading the Sunday newspaper. Her father was sitting at the kitchen table, eating his second piece of pie. Junene was in the room she shared with Juju, listening to music. Her sister had purchased two, new 45s the previous day at the record shop in the Bellaire Shopping Center up the street. The records cost .95 cents each and after much thought, Junene had selected Sly and the Family Stone’s Family Affair, and Brand New Key by Melanie.

Juju noticed Jewel’s eyes peak above the top of the page of the newspaper. She looked at Juju sitting on the bean bag. I thought I told you not to eat in this living room? These are Smarties, no crumbs, said Juju. Before she could change her mind Juju blurted out to her mother that she knew the big secret! What secret, Jewel asked? Junene told me your big secret yesterday when we were playing down by the creek! I know what you and Daddy did to get me!! Jewel was taken aback and instantly furious at Junene for talking to a nine-year old child about the birds and the bees.

Juju listened intently as her mother began to talk about what happens when a man and a woman meet and like each other. There is more than kissing, Juju was starting to get disgusted and stopped Jewel! Stop, yes stop….that’s not the secret Junene told me! Jewel, looking somewhat relieved, pressed Juju for the story. I want to thank you and Daddy for taking me, but I know now that I am adopted! Juju’s father yelled from the kitchen, “what the hell did that kid just say?”

It took about forty-five minutes for Juju’s parents to convince her that she was definitely a part of their gene pool. They were somewhat upset that this didn’t completely make Juju happy! Juju still didn’t know what sleeping in the same room had to do with it…or what came after kissing and that was just fine with her. She knew now that even though she was in the right house, with the right family, there were still differences in her that someday needed to be answered.

Until that time, Juju delighted in watching her mother chase Junene around the house with the fly swatter, yelling, “I am going to make you wish YOU were adopted!!” Jewel was 49 at that time and didn’t catch Junene and Juju too often….she looked at it as her cardio.

Juju heard one of the swats connect on Junene’s backside and yelled above the commotion….SHE ALSO SMOKES KOOL CIGARETTES!!

What happened to sister loyalty? Well, that along with the big secret of the summer of 71 …it was all just water under the bridge now.

Randy Caufield had far exceeded everyone’s expectations. He had started as a small time thug in Tampa, Florida and after a 25 year criminal career was now a mid-level doper living the good life on the Keys. He had a crew of seven guys that helped him move weed, coke, H, and even Cuban prostitutes…he sold anything to anyone, for a profit. Randy had always had just enough I.Q. points to stay out of jail and off a slab at the county morgue…or so he thought.

Trujillio was a someone in town that was competition to him, but Randy had steered clear of the guy…satisfied to grab his share and not step on the toe of his more powerful counterpart. Caufield deemed the two men equals in big talk with his crew, but secretly yielded to the Trujillio organization. Trujillio, on the other hand, saw Randy as a ubiquitous pile of dog shit on the island; repeatedly coming afoot…with a perpetual faint whiff wherever he was tread upon. Lately the smell had grown stronger and Trujillio had put Caufield on his short list for extermination. Poor Randy, ever so careful to maintain his business, lifestyle, and steady heart beat had fucked up and hadn’t even realized it. He had done something that could not be undone. Randy Caufield was about to be part of the Atlantic ecosystem.

It had been about a month since that night, the night when Caufield sealed his own fate. He had been driving past The Green Parrot Bar on Whitehead Street at about 2:15 a.m. when he saw her. She stumbled into traffic with one high heel shoe on and the other in her right hand, waving frantically. Caufield pulled over and yelled at her to get into his low-key black Chevy truck. Appearing drunk out of her mind and crying hysterically she had told him her name was Nina. It seems that her date had been a bit overzealous in his desires for Nina…she had wound up in the backseat of a car where the word NO didn’t have meaning. Someone how she had struggled and gained her freedom from the would-be rapist loser and into what she deemed to be the safe haven of the Chevy truck. “So where do you want to go?” Randy asked. Anywhere but here came the reply…anywhere but here.

Randy was not bad-looking and came across like a talkative good old boy to strangers. He had a cover that he used often that seemed to endear him to others, especially women. Randy told the story that he had been the second string quarterback for the University of Florida Gators in 1990 until a career ending knee injury. Bummed by the injury he had dropped out of college and been in the construction business ever since. He told the story to Nina as he drove out to a condo that he owned on the beach….she was listening to him yammer about contracting jobs as she passed out…the shots of tequila had made her head swim, she greeted sleep with a slight smile as her head leaned against the passenger window of the truck. Randy looked over at the unconscious girl who had appeared out of the night for his taking….his smile was more than slight.

Randy Caufield was not a murderer. He had killed in the past by ordering or acquiescing when one of his men had done the deed, but never had he himself committed the act. He was thinking about other things as he carried Nina into the condo and gently placed her on his bed. He noticed track marks on her arms as he slipped off her jacket. Good grief, a freaking junky he thought…never once thinking about the irony of the moment. The heroin Nina was addicted to had paid for his condo on the beach, in cash.

Nina awoke the next morning at ten and looked out the large window onto the coastline. She had no idea how she had come to be in the million dollar condo, but the thought that the owner had watched too many episodes of Miami Vice did run through her head. She took out her iPhone and snapped a picture of the stunning view..as she was throwing it back in her purse she heard someone walking down the hall. “Well good morning,” said Randy as he entered the room offering her orange juice. After awkward re-introductions and Randy giving Nina a rundown of their chance meeting…the negotiation began. “You look like a guy that might be holding?” Nina said, “what can I do for you to get what I need?”

Nina went to her knees and soon after a small amount of smack wrapped in cellophane was tossed her way as she washed her face in the restroom. Nina retrieved a small leather pouch from her purse containing an elastic band, a small spoon, a Bic lighter, and one dirty hypodermic needle. She slammed the door in Randy’s face with the words, “you got yours, now leave me alone while I get mine!”

Randy padded down the dirt path from his back door to the water, a morning plunge into the cold surf always did him good after a night of debauchery….it was a daily ritual. After about a twenty-minute swim he returned to the condo, expecting a dressed Nina to be wanting a ride back to whatever rock she lived under….but that is not what he found. After no answer at the bathroom door he kicked it in and found her lying prone on the sea green tile floor…a white foam coming out of her mouth, her gaze staring up to the ceiling. Randy didn’t react as a “normal” man might react to finding a dead woman in his restroom…there was barely a reaction at all, save for a quick phone call to Rudy, his closest associate. “Get over here, I have some trash you need to take out!”

Rudy left the condo with Nina stuffed into a large suitcase on wheels….one less stupid whore on the island thought Randy as he walked back into the same restroom to take a shower and ready himself for the day. Randy didn’t know it, but that blow-job was going to cost him his life….thirty five days later.

Nina had always been a problem child…sometimes they turn out that way when you give them everything too early. What were her parents to expect when her first car was a BMW convertible that she used to cruised around South Beach at the age of sixteen. Platinum credit cards and her last name got her into any club she desired…the friends that surrounded her were purchased too. It didn’t take long for Nina to latch onto the Florida drug scene in the mid-nineties…to have it envelope her, devour her. Why would one want to go to college or chase the American dream when you didn’t want for anything right out of the gate?? She went from a beautiful teenager to a used up smack whore in a matter of ten years….disowned by her family, an embarrassment to them really.

Nina’s father had imagined the day he would get a phone call saying his little girl had overdosed…he had mentally prepared himself for it. What he didn’t prepare for was his little girl being dropped off at his door-step, in a large, red Samsonite suitcase, curled up like a ball inside, in full rigor.

A travel tag on the suitcase read: Nina Trujillio 1984-2010.