Having a night filled with fun is for the young at heart.
My sister is no longer in her twenties. She has a birth of her son and a death of her friend behind her. Yet, shaken as she is, she invited friends to her summer retreat on Fire Island. Off we go to Cherry Grove by water taxi after a spectacular day of beaching and swimming oh so close to a couple of slick happy dolphins.
At night, on a water taxi, we chat with family and new friends, our faces, open to the all-too-friendly wind, are turned towards the pink of a gorgeous sunset over the water. Our souls are warming up as if in a slow cooker . My sister and her husband are getting in the mood for love, and I am a lucky witness of the beautiful link between them.
We easily find an inviting, simple beach side restaurant. Are we in Maine? Sand dunes surround us. After the ritualistic display of comradely, tasting morsels from each plate, we eat seafood and burgers. The thread of the conversation is spinning smoothy, spanning across themes of introductions, welcomes to the circle of friends, discoveries of similar interests, jokes; all channeled to emit an unforced energy boost like a drink of latte, foam first.
While dining, we all notice a male deer with antlers outside the low fence raised around the perimeter of the restaurant, and the second one following him. He has antlers too. We joke that even deer in this town are homosexuals, it is a rare event to see two male deer together. A waiter stops by, and we are relieved that he is in no rush to leave. He is a cornucopia of stories, the imagery is so vivid, he is our sweet dessert. After dinner, we decide to go for a walk before catching a 10 pm ferry to go home to Seaview.
Up we go to a karaoke place which offers karaoke by day and a drag queen show by night. We all are curious and agree to stay for few minutes. The show is a spectacle worth seeing, and Megan suggests, “Shall we stay for another hour?”, an invitation we cannot refuse.
The whole time of the show I cannot take my eyes of a back of its biggest serious fan, a worn out wolf in the front row. He is tipping each drag queen generously. He is not entirely bold and has disheveled long graying hair that dangle on his shoulders, hair are bent by the rim of his black leather vest like ancient bushes beatten by hurricanes.
As time goes by and I get into the groove, I reach a point of no return where thinking is replaced by enjoyment, and enjoyment transforms into joy. My sister is having a great time, I see those funky sparkles in her eyes, hallelujah. Megan is on fire too. We dance, passing White Russians and feeling like three graces, why not.
A girl runs out screaming that she will party on her night because she just turned 25. She wants to connect, and comes out on a porch to connect, and she connects, she talks to us, we all laugh at the end, there. In fact, the whole show is about connecting. The show was using the props and the queens to say “Let’s climb to the point of a screeching turn when you begin to feel love for life and feel the beauty of being human, and pain of being human, and reach the point where empathy and joy join hands and dance the beautiful dance of life. Let’s live and let live!” We all dance.
The water taxi takes us back in the darkness, stars are above us. I let my scarf lose, and it becomes a wave behind me, reaching far into the darkness.
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