The steam seeped into Johnnie’s skin and she breathed it deep into her lungs. Sweat began to trickle down her back and ribs. She wiped her brow, wishing she’d asked for a bandana. She shifted, growing uncomfortable. But that was part of the process. You had to accept it and push through it. Her mind began to jump, first with the sweat and the steam, then to Elaine, then to Gail, a brief guilt laden flash of Monica, and then to her own image.
She jerked. She wasn’t expecting that. The women in her life, yes. But facing herself, no. She didn’t want to. She didn’t know what to do.
She wiped sweat from her eyes, ignoring the sting of it. She looked to the exit, to the flap of hide gently swaying in the desert breeze. She could crawl out and take deep gulps of fresh air. But nothing would be solved. The negativity would still be deep inside her. Not yet having come up to her skin to be sweated out or wiped away.
“I don’t like this,” she called out.
There was silence for a moment and then Jolene poked her head in. “Too bad.”
Johnnie panicked. “I’m seeing myself, Jolene. I don’t know what to do with that.”
“Ask it,” she said.
“Ask it?”
Jolene disappeared.
Johnnie held her head in her hands, then placed her hands in the red orange dirt. She pulled them back and then studied her handprints. Henry needed to paint for her. That was it. That was what was needed. He needed to come in and let the colorful sand pour delicately from his hand, making images. Giving her medicine. Helping her know what to do.
“I need Henry to paint,” she said, calling out to Jolene.
Henry poked his head in. “I can’t,” he said. “Only you can face yourself.”
“But, Henry, I don’t know how to do this.”
“You must figure it out. No one knows you better than you.”
“I want out,” she said.
“No, you don’t. You will only be mad at yourself if you come out now.”
She stilled. “Goddamn it, Henry.”
He disappeared and she heard him say, “Talk to yourself.”
She closed her eyes and balled her fists. She sat very still and eventually felt her body relax and turn to hot lead. She was pliable now; she could be moved and bent and curled. Henry could create a masterpiece with her if he so chose. But Henry wasn’t with her.
She saw Elaine again. Elaine touched her, felt her strength and examined her. Then she lightly stroked her, which aroused her. Johnnie’s knees went weak. Elaine could read her mind. She knew Johnnie would do anything for her. But Elaine stepped back. It wasn’t what she wanted. She reached out and raised Johnnie’s chin with her fingers. She wanted Johnnie’s best. Her strongest self. Her happiest self. She took another step back. Johnnie reached for her, but she spoke with her mind and said, “Not yet.” She turned and vanished into the steam.
Johnnie clutched the darkness and pulled back a handful of steam. Sweat coated her body, but she had moved past the uncomfortableness.
“Elaine,” she said. “Come back.”
“I’m here for you, baby.”
Johnnie sat back. Gail’s voice tickled her ear. “You don’t need anyone but me.”
Johnnie felt gooseflesh erupt along her skin. Gail could always turn her on, calm her down. “Remember, I’m the only one who can love you. No one else can accept you and your past and your issues. Only I can. And let’s face it, baby, there’s no one like me.”
Johnnie fell to her side as she felt Gail stroke her face, arm, and back. “I know,” she said in return. “I’m too far gone. Too fucked up.”
“I love you just right don’t I?” Gail was sitting next to her, stroking her hair.
Johnnie closed her eyes. More images came. Images of her pacing when Gail disappeared without calling. Images of her alone at restaurants when Gail stood her up. Images of Gail turning on the charm only when they were around other lesbians. Only to have them become infatuated with her, leaving Johnnie to be the bad guy to tell them to get lost.
“No.” Johnnie sat up and felt the dirt clinging to her wet body, but she didn’t care. “You don’t love me just right.”
“Come on, love. I do. I’m just absent-minded. I just forget sometimes, that’s all. And you know I’m busy.”
Johnnie shoved her away. “I don’t believe you anymore.”
Gail reached for her, but Johnnie shoved her away again, and she vanished in the mist.
“I’m sick of you,” Johnnie said, hugging her knees and rocking. “Sick of your shit. Stay away from me,” she shouted.
“Good for you,” Monica said, appearing across the rocks. “’Bout time.”
Johnnie shook her head. “I have nothing to offer you, Monica,” Johnnie said, blinking against the sting in her eyes.
“I only want a date.”
“I can’t.”
“You mean you won’t.”
“I mean I don’t want to.”
Monica let down her long brown mane. “Ouch. I’m offended. You’ll date Gail but not me?”
“It wouldn’t be fair to you. I want someone else.”
“Who?”
Johnnie rocked again. “Someone I can’t have.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I just can’t. Leave it at that.”
“What about that day at your studio?”
Johnnie clutched dirt, growing agitated. “It was a mistake. I’m sorry.”
“Kiss me again and we’ll see.”
Johnnie watched as she unbuttoned her blouse. “I’ll love you, Johnnie. Protect you, treat you right.”
“I can’t,” Johnnie shouted, throwing dirt across the stones.
Monica disappeared.
Johnnie pounded the earth. Why wouldn’t people listen to her?
“Because you don’t mean what you say.”
Johnnie looked up. Her own image sat across from her with dirt smeared along the side of her face and right side of her body.
Johnnie scrambled backward. “Go away.”
“Why? If you can’t handle seeing me, how do you expect anyone else to?”
Johnnie had never liked her reflection. Not even as a child. Her mother had always told her she looked too masculine, too much like her father.
“You do look like your father,” her reflection said. “But he’s a handsome guy isn’t he?”
“I guess.”
“No, you know he is. He didn’t have any trouble with the ladies, and really neither do you. You’re androgynous. Women love that.”
Johnnie looked at herself cautiously. She was right.
“Admit it, you coward. You’re a good-looking cat.”
Johnnie looked away.
“My God, you’ve been browbeat for so long you feel guilty liking yourself.”
“I’m not supposed to like myself. It’s vain. And I look like him.”
“Fuck that. Fuck it. No more.”
Her reflection wiped the dirt from her body. “I can’t stand being trapped inside you anymore, letting you think this way. Your parents…they put you on the street. Not a penny to your name…your father ran you out of your business first, then put you on the street. That’s not love and that’s not someone who has the right to make you feel like shit about yourself. So fuck him. Fuck them. You’ve learned to live without them, so learn to live without them in your mind.”
Johnnie watched as her reflection stood as best she could and reached across the rocks for her hand. She took it and stood in a crouched position. She wiped herself free of dirt.
“Now, say what you feel. Speak. No regrets. No guilt. You’re not a bad person so you don’t have to worry about what you say. We are one now. We are good, kind, caring, and strong.”
Johnnie nodded.
Her reflection motioned toward the flap.
Johnnie nodded and took a deep breath, and stepped through. Darkness enveloped her. In a distant fog of sorts, Jolene rose from a chair and watched as Johnnie wiped herself down in dirt. Johnnie didn’t speak and neither did Jolene. She simply wrapped her in a blanket and led her to the chair. Johnnie sat and sipped tepid water. The breeze chilled her.
When Jolene placed a caring hand on her shoulder, Johnnie looked up at her and said, “It’s okay now. I’m ready.”
Jolene nodded. “Good.”