FRIDAY ^#7

Opening Night

Nick hovers around the ticket booth in a vintage blue tux, welcoming guests as they enter. Violet arrives in a tight crimson dress and sniffs the theater’s hallway. The usual hint of dust and sweat is masked by burning sage. She hugs Nick and asks him to take an orchid to Raven before the show.

“She’s in the greenroom, you can bring it yourself.”

Raven pulls Violet into the dressing room and plants a kiss on her parted lips.

Violet stands in awe of Raven’s striking figure, framed by an embroidered gown. “You look stunning, my queen!” Smiling, she bows before Raven and presents her with the potted plant.

Raven smells the flowers and exclaims, “Lady slippers! How’d you know?”

“It’s from Damien, he told me to remind you, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, but an orchid is always a vagina.”

Raven smirks and says, “Please thank him for all the space he’s been giving me. Sorry I wasn’t ready to see him, tonight.”

“He understands. How are you?”

“Well, I’m past the stage where I wanted to throw up.”

“Do you need anything?”

“Just for you to sit in the front row. I reserved a seat, house left. That’s where I do the climactic scene, and I want to look out and feel you there.”

“I’m honored. I’ll go there now.” Raven grabs Violet’s arm and tugs her in for a hard kiss on the mouth. “If I suck tonight, I’ll take it out on your ass.”

“And if you rock, you can punish me even harder.”

Before leaving, Violet looks back at Raven and says, “I love you.” It just sort of slips out. It’s less of a revelation than a fact. It feels as if Violet simply stated: “The sun is hot.”

Raven’s smile says, I know.

Violet finds her special seat in the front row and watches nearly two hundred friends, students, and community members file into their seats. Violet smiles to herself, knowing they have all come to watch her queen.

The music stops, lights flicker, and eventually, the chatter slows. Nick steps onstage with his guitar and says, “Consider me the fluffer. I’m here to warm you up with an original number. For those who don’t know, I’m Nick, Raven’s partner. If she’s the Sacred Slut, I’m her patron saint. I wrote this little piece about the decriminalization of prostitution. You laugh now, but you have no idea how hard it is to find words that rhyme with ‘victimless crimes’ and ‘consenting adults’ so, please bear with me….”

Violet giggles through Nick’s musical comedy set, then nearly jumps to her feet when her queen floats onstage in her royal gown. She carries herself as if wearing heels, but is clearly barefoot with toenails painted like lilacs. She centers herself in the spotlight and waits for the applause to subside before opening with an invocation.

“I dedicate this show to the Sacred Sluts of the world. We are a subversive band of men and women doing holy work in hotel rooms, yoga studios, private homes, and occasionally temples. We are temple priestesses, heaven’s harlots, holy whores, and sacred prostitutes. Call us whatever name you choose. We may or may not use labels, we may or may not have sex with our seekers, we may or may not accept money for our work, but we all serve the Goddess.”

As Raven kneels at the altar, Violet feels tingles as she recognizes the basket of fruit alongside Raven’s crystal cock.

Violet is aroused by the intoxicating sound of Raven’s voice, or is it her graceful movement? She feels her own flower blossom against the cushion of her seat. She is hypnotized as Raven shape-shifts into a variety of different forms using body language, vocal intonation, and wigs. Violet’s favorite line happens when Raven wears a wavy blonde wig to play the modern courtesan, Veronica Monet:

“And the world was telling me that prostitutes are dirty, and that our pussies would get loose and saggy if we had too much sex, but it was all a lie. My girlfriend, who taught me the business, had the tightest, sweetest, cleanest, most beautiful pussy I’d ever seen. It was easy for me to get over the idea that women who work in this industry are nasty hoes, or undesirable. It was like, oh my God! She’s so hot, and you’re so wrong. I don’t care what you’re all saying, you’re wrong. My vagina is a muscle, not some orifice that’s going to get stretched out of shape if I use it too much. You cannot defile me. I’m a muscle and the more you use me, the more powerful I become.”

The show culminated in an indescribable ecstatic sacred ritual wherein Raven’s prayers merged so fully with Violet that she lost all sense of time and space. Afterward, Raven tenderly gathered herself in a rocking chair, in the dim downstage light, talking directly to the audience about the dharma of the sacred prostitute: “For centuries, she’s been the one whose job it is to take the war out of our warriors…”

After Raven receives an explosive standing ovation, she dashes backstage.

Violet, still in awe, slips behind the concession stand to make a cup of hot tea. She eavesdrops on the excited chatter of the adoring audience on her way to her queen’s greenroom.

Violet finds Raven crumpled against a cushion sobbing, her silk robe loosely fastened around her lithe body. She sets the tea down and kneels at Raven’s feet, lightly holding her leg. Violet observes Raven’s sobbing, pretending not to notice that one of Raven’s boobs is peeking out of her robe. She yearns to touch her nipple, but intuits there is a time for inappropriate perverted behavior, and this is not it.

Eventually, Nick pops his head in the door to see Raven’s body heaving in her girlfriend’s arms. “Do you need anything from the crew?”

“Just to be held. We can circle for notes in like ten minutes.” He joins them on the couch with an awkward attempt at encouragement. “It was ten thousand times better than the dress rehearsal.”

Violet, who had been unsure about what to say until now, takes his cue. “You blew everyone away, especially me.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m not just saying that because you’re my queen, I actually learned a lot.”

Raven slowly sits up, wipes her wet face on her robe, and says, “I love you.” She turns to her husband and hugs him. “Both of you.”

“Want tea?” Violet offers.

Raven nods and says, “I really went for it. I feel well-used.”

Nick asks, “Anything else?”

“No.”

Nick smiles and exits, saying, “I’ll let the crew know we’ll meet in here.”

“I need to ask, before I go,” Violet says.

“What is it?” Raven says, concerned.

“I’ll be back tomorrow, and I’ll be telling everyone they must see this show, but I don’t feel right about Damien missing it. Can he at least come to closing night?”

A slow smile spreads across Raven’s face. “You know, I kind of wish he were here right now.”