Soundtrack You are encouraged to listen to songs embedded as YouTube videos or to your own digital music library [NB: Authorized videos are usually accompanied by ads… no free lunch if creators are to be rewarded for their efforts. These ads or “next up”videos from our own times can sometimes serve as an ironic companion to the embedded videos from the 60s.]
For Joanie Cohen, it was really two kisses, both disturbing ones. The first was Jake's unresponsive kiss at midnight. The second was later on, a decidedly sexual kiss with Annie, one that awoke in Joanie troubling lesbian feelings. The unexpected thrill she'd felt as Annie's warm tongue had snaked its way into her mouth had been far different from the all-too-familiar deadness she'd felt earlier when giving Jake the proverbial New Year's Eve midnight kiss.
Soundtrack: Let’s Spend the Night Together----The Rolling Stones
The party at Bill Samuels’ house had been a real drag from the start. Most of the kids there were young, drunk or stoned, and too loud; and, as usual, Bill was surrounded by a gaggle of gorgeous groupies, hanging mindlessly onto his every word and gesture.
Sure, a few of Joanie’s political friends were there, trying to hear each other over the loud dance music, but she just wasn’t in the mood for listening to their same tired anti-war, anti-capitalism complaints. Worst, though was Jake! He was totally strung out on smack and totally unresponsive to her attempts to sooth him.
But then, later, she'd found herself wrapped in Annie's arms, the two of them rocking back and forth in the dark to the strains of the Rolling Stones, drifting in from the other room; Annie's sumptuous breasts pressed into her back; Annie's perfume flowing over her like a wave of delicious flowers; Annie humming the tune along with the infectious music; Annie softly whispering into Joanie’s ear the words to Mick Jagger’s seductive song.
They'd been smoking dope with Jake and some of his druggy friends and, if it hadn't been clear to her earlier in the evening, it was getting real clear now: she and Jake were through. Lotsa’ reasons. First: he was one fucked up cat. Second: she was sick of men in general. That black guy, Jukie, they were smoking with? He reminded her of just how disgusting she found most men's ways of treating women. God's gift to women. That's what they all seemed to think. Fuck 'em. Who needed that shit anyway? Not Joanie. And third: this feeling in her groin, as she and Annie swayed to the music, this was better than anything she'd ever felt with Jake, or any other man for that matter.
A shaft of light hit Joanie's eyes. A door opening. Jake and his little queer buddy, Stephen, leaving the room. Fine. Fuck Jake! She felt a slight pressure on one of her shoulders. Annie was turning her so they were face to face. It was dark, but she could make out the outlines of Annie's wild curly hair. Then it happened: Annie's mouth on hers; Annie's tongue in her mouth; Annie's tongue exploring, running along her gums and her teeth, then the inside of her cheek until finally their tongues met. Wham! Joanie felt a ball of fire exploding in her womb. Not really her womb, she knew, but it did seem that way. It was the strongest sexual sensation she remembered ever having.
And it seemed as though there was going to be more to come. Even as their tongues danced together, Annie's hands were busy. Joanie experienced the familiar, yet oddly unfamiliar, feeling of hands stroking her thighs... and higher.
A woman's hands, softer than a man's, gentler, more communicative, giving pleasure, not just taking it. Then, as Annie's fingers began to pull lightly at Joanie's pubic hair, she was reminded that she hadn't worn any underwear tonight. Suddenly, she felt completely vulnerable... and ashamed.
Abruptly, she pulled her face back, simultaneously grasping Annie's strong forearms, "No... wait... I... I... uh, I'm not ready for this." She felt stupid, embarrassed, and terribly confused.
Annie looked her straight in the eyes and smiling, said gently, "That's cool, babe. Don't sweat it. We can take it slow." She slipped her arms out of Joanie's rigid grasp and gently took hold of her hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, I was just going with the flow. You know, if it feels good, do it. But, you know, if it don't feel good, then let's just back off a bit."
And they did. They just stood there, tenderly squeezing each others’ hands, listening to Mick’s sexy, but heartfelt, closing plea, Joanie wondering if she’d ever be satisfied or would ever satisfy another person and… if so, whether that person would be a man or a woman.
As Mick Jagger’s lustful invitation faded out, it was replaced by the Rascals' Good Lovin', yet another male song of lust that made Joanie grimace, recalling the dozens of boys who had come on to her since her early puberty. But then she caught sight of Annie’s smiling face and she felt a sense of relief, actually gratitude for Annie’s instant understanding and compassion.
Soundtrack: Good Lovin'---The Young Rascals
"Whew! Thank you. You know, if you'd been a man, you wouldn't have stopped. You would have just kept on and... and, you know, I would have let you... even if I didn't want it... even if I was repulsed or afraid. I really appreciate... er, uh... I mean..."
Annie squeezed her hands again, warmly, yes lovingly. "Sweetie, relax. You don't have to explain. I've been there myself plenty times. Men are fuckers; that's all there is to it. You want to be with them? Then, you got to learn how to set the agenda. Don't even let them get started."
Annie paused, then gesturing to the couch, asked, "Hey. How 'bout instead of rushing into sex, I just give you a relaxing back rub?"
Joanie hesitated, eying the couch suspiciously, her mind instantly filled with recollections of guys who'd used a back rub as a ruse to get her supine and then....
"No, really. Just a back rub, I mean it." Annie interrupted Joanie's unpleasant memories. "I know the guy routine. First back rub then front rub. That's not what I had in mind at all. It's just that you seem to have dug the physical contact, but aren't into... or maybe aren't ready... for sex with a chick. Believe me, I understand. I spent years being banged by guys before I was comfortable making love with a woman. Who knows, maybe you'll never feel that way. But, you do seem like you could use some loving female hands on your body and your back is a pretty safe place to have that."
Tears began to well up in Joanie's eyes. Annie understood. She understood completely. What a difference between her gentle, caring words and the kind of mental rape most guys pulled in similar situations. "Oh, come on, baby! What's the big deal? You're not one of those square chicks who thinks her body's a fucking altar, are you? Blah, blah, blah." And all the while, their hands are working overtime, looking for an entry... to breasts or thighs or crotch or ass. Oh, fuck them! Fuck all of them!
Joanie’s mind drifted back to the very first time a guy had forced himself on her. It was at camp, an all-Jewish camp; she had just turned fourteen and had begun wearing a bra, though she barely needed one, even now. One of the counselors-in-training, Brad something or other, one night after movies, had suggested a walk down to the lakeside. She'd gone along innocently, honored at being sought after by this camp big shot. Part way there he'd grabbed her hand and held it stiffly as they walked. She hadn't known what to make of it; she'd never held a boy's hand before. Then at lakeside, he'd pulled her towards him and kissed her roughly on the lips. She'd been so surprised that she'd bit her own lip. She was even more surprised when Brad pressed his body against her and she felt his hardness... down there. He kept trying to kiss her, but she averted her mouth, so that he ended up kissing mainly her cheek and neck. In between kisses, he was breathing heavily and sighing out her name, as though he were in pain. The whole thing frightened and confused Joanie. But when Brad reached up and touched her budding breasts, she was no longer confused. She was panicked.
"NO!" she'd exclaimed and pulled away from him, running back up the path, tears streaming down her face.
The rest of the summer had been a torture for her, spent avoiding Brad, and ashamed to tell any of her friends what had happened. In retrospect, what Brad had done was nothing, really, not compared to some of the shit that later, in high school, she’d put up with from boys. But at the time, it had frightened her, horribly.
Joanie was shaken out of her reverie by the psychedelic music now coming from the other room. She looked up to see Annie's still smiling face. She realized that she'd been staring down at the floor for quite awhile, as she recalled that first encounter with male sexual aggression. Yet, during all that time Annie had neither spoken nor moved; she’d given Joanie the psychic space she needed.
Soundtrack: Somebody to Love---Jefferson Airplane
"Annie, you're making me feel... uh... so normal... and, uh... so cared about. Listen, can we split this place and, uh, go somewhere and just kind of talk? I... I've got so many conflicting and confused thoughts and, uh, it seems like you've kinda’ worked some of these things out. I'd love to talk to you about the shit that's bugging me, but I don't want to do it here. I mean, Jake might come back at any time or one of those other fuckers like Jukie might decide that we're the kind of meat they'd like to paw tonight," she said, mixing her metaphors. "You know what I mean, don't you?"
Annie laughed, "Do I! That super-rad jerk off, Carl, already tried me tonight, coming on to me with some commie crap about free love. Man, that cat's politics are fucked up! He’s a walking example of the contradictions he’s always going on about as being at the root of capitalism and its inevitable collapse. I’ll bet he’ll collapse before capitalism does. So, sure I'd love to split. But… Where to? You know, it's like one or two AM, New Years Day, so I don't think there's too many places open right now."
"Well..." Joanie hesitated, considering the options and still harboring some remnants of suspicion from her many interactions with the libidinous guys of her past.
What the hell was she thinking? Hadn't Annie already shown that she wasn't like those guys? Still... No, she wasn't like them at all! Joanie decided. "How about my place?"
Annie smiled. Alarmed for a moment, Joanie added quickly, "To talk, right?"
Annie smiled again. "Yeah, Joanie, to talk. Whatever, you want... that's what it'll be." The two women, still holding hands, looked into each other’s smiling face. Annie gave Joanie's hands one last little squeeze and easily released them. Grabbing their pocket books and jackets, they headed into the other room where the party was still in full swing. Joanie looked around; she was relieved that Jake was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he'd split; she hoped so. She no longer had any desire or intention of hooking up with him tonight, or probably ever again. She turned back to Annie, who was trying to button her jeans jacket up over her large breasts. It was almost comical. Clearly, this was a jacket from way before Annie had blossomed into the blousy Italian mama she was now. "C'mon, let's split before Jake the Jerkshows up!" Joanie spat out, as she headed for the front door, eyes averted from the revelers in the room. Annie followed closely behind and in an instant they were outside, the music and loud stoned-out voices muted by the walls of the house.
Walking down the street in the semi-darkness of dull yellow streetlights, Annie latched playfully onto Joanie's arm, exclaiming, "What a night! It's kinda' cold out here!"
Joanie liked the way Annie held onto her. It felt sisterly... safe. "Yeah, and quiet," she responded.
And, as they turned the corner into the unlit cul-de-sac where Joanie's apartment was located, she added in a mock-frightened voice, "...and dark!"
Soundtrack: The Sound of Silence--- Simon & Garfunkel
The two women looked into each others’ eyes, let out melodramatic terror-filled screams, and broke into a run toward the back door of the large Victorian house in which Joanie lived. Flinging the door open, they scrambled up the back stairs, arriving on the fourth floor, breathless and laughing playfully.
“We outran the bogeymen!” Annie exclaimed, as she struggled to regain her normal breathing.
Joanie chuckled, as she pawed through her pocketbook, searching for her keys. Distracted and still shaking from their fake-terror-filled run, she couldn’t find them at first. "What the hell's the matter with me?" she exclaimed aloud. Was it really the running that was causing her hands to tremble or something else?
Annie smiled, patiently, allowing Joanie the time to compose herself, find the right key and open the door. This simple gesture touched Joanie deeply. A guy would have just grabbed the keys and, in an obnoxious overbearing manner, opened the door for her, believing his action to be chivalrous. Men were such assholes; they really were!
"Welcome to my humble abode," Joanie clowned, throwing her jacket and pocket book rather deliberately on the mattress that served as her bed. Her apartment was really just one room in a converted attic in the home of a widow of some prof at the U who'd died years ago. Her unauthorized kitchen consisted of the bathroom sink and a clearly illegal two-burner hotplate, which sat on a large table that dominated the room.
Annie tossed her things on the mattress as well, and sunk down to the floor, crossing her legs, yoga-style, her long dress spreading out to cover the entire bottom half of her body. She looked like some gypsy fortuneteller with her long curly black ringlets falling over the tops of her generous bosom, which bulged up, out of, and over the peasant blouse she was wearing. “Funny,” Joanie thought. “I've known Annie for three years or so and I just realized what a beautiful woman she is.
"Some tea?" Joanie asked.
"Yeah. That'd be fine. Herbal." Annie replied, looking around Joanie's crowded little den.
Besides the mattress and the long brown lab table that Joanie had salvaged from the Bio building renovation, there was a large stuffed armchair covered with several items of recently worn clothing; a couple of open folding chairs, acting as drying racks for Joanie's underwear; and a series of uneven cinder-block and pine bookshelves that snaked around the periphery of the little room, occupying every inch of available waist-high wall space, looking a bit like a model of the Great Wall of China.
On the upper walls were a randomly placed pastiche of cheap prints from the college store: the usual Utrillo, Modigliani, and Van Gogh admixed with photographs of Joanie, her friends, and family at various stages in her life
as well as torn and faded magazine photos of Che, Mao, Lenin and Uncle Ho.
But on one wall, there stood alone Joanie's most prized possession: an incredible drawing Jake had done as a study for a painting of Joanie as Joan of Arc, replete with armor, halo, and hand raised to ear, as though listening to voices. But, instead of leading 15th century French soldiers against their English counterparts, she was at the head of a platoon of pajama-clad Viet Cong, ambushing a column of U.S. and ARVN soldiers in the jungles of Viet Nam.
"Wow, Joanie! That drawing of Jake's is intense! Did he give it to you?"
Annie's question wrenched Joanie out of the pleasant reverie she'd sunk into, as she pawed through her tea collection. She'd been fantasizing about the gentle, sensual back rub she might get up the courage to ask Annie to give her. Then, bang! Annie reminded her about Jake! Shit! She just remembered that she'd asked him —no, she’d actually begged him —to come back to her place after the party. God, what if he shows up now? A wave of anxiety and disappointment washed over her.
Annie's voice broke through Joanie's now negative aura. "You know, I've never been up here. Seems like the fall term just went by so quick we never got to socialize at all. "
"I missed you," she added, softly.
A little alarm went off in Joanie's head, once again. Missed me? What did she mean by that, exactly? Has Annie always liked me... in that way? Joanie just couldn't rid herself of these troubling suspicions about Annie's intentions.
Soundtrack: Suzanne ----Leonard Cohen
Filled with thoughts about Annie’s feelings, her own needs for gentle understanding, and a nagging fear that Jake could show up any minute, she continued fumbling through the ancient Mason jar in which she kept her teas. Finally, she found the bags she was looking for. "Here they are!" she exclaimed with some relief.
Dropping a couple of chamomile tea bags carelessly into an old chipped china teapot, which she'd brought back years ago from a family vacation in Mexico, Joanie now turned to fill the tea kettle from the tap in her bathroom sink and placed it on the hot plate. She was still preoccupied as hell.
Her mind tuned into the Leonard Cohen song now playing on her little portable stereo. She remembered the first time she'd heard it; it was with Jake, maybe three years ago, when their relationship had been really intense. They were at one of the coffeehouses that had sprung up just off campus. He was reminiscing about growing up in a rural area, the narrow-mindedness, the lack of opportunity... or rather the limited view of what opportunities there might be. Earlier, she'd been regaling him with tales of her teenage years in the suburbs: the wild parties, the cars, and… the emptiness.
Then, in a break in the conversation, they became aware of a somewhat odd and unfamiliar voice, coming out of the speakers at the back of the room. The singer seemed to be almost speaking the poetic lyrics of his sweet, melancholy song.
Jake turned to her, slowly, and reaching for her hand, he said, for the first of many times to come, "Joanie, I think you're the love of my life."
Somehow, Jake's words hadn't surprised her. Nor did she experience them as phony in any way. She knew he meant it and she felt so in love at that moment, as well as at other moments over the past three years.
Most of the time, however, her feelings for Jake were far less romantic. Usually, she found him to be depressing to be with; he was so morose. Sometimes she was actually afraid of him; his paintings and the visions that birthed them were often terrifying.
Being "the love of Jake's life" was certainly a mixed blessing. For one thing, she never knew when she'd see him. He'd disappear for days on end and then suddenly be at her door, wanting to fuck her. She'd feel relieved to see him, to know he was O.K., but she wasn't all that thrilled with the sexual demands he made on her. It wasn't that she didn't like sex or even that she didn't enjoy sex with him... sometimes. It was just that there was so little about it that was mutual. It was always on his terms, on his time schedule.
Like tonight, for instance, earlier in the evening she'd wanted to make love with him, but he seemed totally uninterested. Yet, she knew, if the urge were to come over him, he'd be at her door, expecting it... maybe at any minute, dammit!
"Hey, kid! Where'd you go?" It was Annie who had suddenly appeared, standing in front of her. Deep in her thoughts about Jake, Joanie had forgotten all about Annie.
"Oh, Annie! Sorry. The music just kind of took me off... uh.. you know, to another place, another time, sort of..."
"Sure, Joanie. I know how it is. Certain music does that for me, too. You know, songs that came out when I was in high school. You know, like, uhm... things that Joan Baez sung." Annie tried singing one, but was hopelessly off-key. Both girls broke into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
"Hey, I've got one of her albums right here," Joanie said.
Soundtrack: It Ain't Me, Babe ----Joan Baez
Both girls were silent as they listened to the sweet voice of Joan Baez singing a bitter love-song, written by Bob Dylan. Now that was irony for you! Annie's smiled. ”Yeah, songs like that, they just take me back to that time. They just seem so innocent and.… and that's sort of the last time I felt innocent." Then she began to giggle at her own comment, the olive-colored skin at the corner of her eyes wrinkling in amusement. "Well, I don't mean totally innocent, or anything; I just mean that the world seemed like a simpler place and relationships, too. You know?" Joanie smiled softly, now, too. "Yeah, I think I know what you mean... at least about the world. But, relationships? I don't know. They’ve always seemed pretty complicated to me." "Well, then, I guess you were a lot wiser than I was in high school. I mean, to me, relationships were simple: were you gonna’ sleep with the guy or not?" Annie replied, her grin a little more subdued now.
Joanie's tentative smile vanished now. "Yeah. I guess so."
No, it hadn’t been that simple for Joanie, not at all. Suddenly her mind was flooded, as it often was, with unpleasant recollections of her relationships with guys in high school. One occasion stood out, in particular, etched permanently, it seemed, in Joanie’s psyche. She thought of it often… practically every time a guy talked to her… and it repeated itself frequently in her dreams. It had happened her sophomore year. She’d gone to the Junior Prom with Ralph Firestone, the best-looking Jewish boy in the school. Then, on the way to an after-prom party, he pulled the car over in a secluded spot. They kissed a bit, but Ralph's mind seemed elsewhere.
"Say, Joanie," he said. "You wanna’ do something that'll feel really cool and there's no risk." Joanie knew what Ralph meant by risk---pregnancy--- but she certainly had no intention of sleeping with him, anyway. So, what was he talking about? She had to admit she was curious, albeit apprehensive. "Well, I guess so. What is it?" she said. "Here. I'll show you." Ralph had by now unzipped his fly and pulled out his penis. It was stiff and a lot bigger than the penises she'd seen before: her little brother's and, long ago, her father's flaccid penis when he showered. But what was he intending to do with it that wouldn't involve risk? Joanie soon found out. Ralph held the back of Joanie's neck, not violently, but firmly, and pushed it downward toward his now-dancing penis. "Kiss it," he said. Joanie was appalled. Was this really safe? Were penises clean enough to kiss? "Go on. It won't hurt you. You'll see. You'll like it. It's the coolest thing." So she did. She kissed it. It was pretty weird. It was kinda’ like kissing a hot dog. But then Ralph said, "Now put it in your mouth and sorta’ suck on it." This idea totally revolted Joanie. She wasn't going to do that. "C'mon Joanie! It's the cool thing. Everybody does it! It's totally safe. Believe me. Nothing's going to happen. You'll love it." So she closed her eyes and opened her mouth ever so slightly. Ralph pushed his penis into the small opening she’d allowed, and holding Joanie's head in place, he began thrusting in and out, each time going in deeper, gagging her as his penis hit up against the back of her throat. She tried to pull away, but he had a firm hold on her neck. It felt to Joanie as if Ralph's penis was growing larger with every thrust, soon becoming far too big for her mouth. She thought she was going to vomit every time it touched her throat. She struggled, but Ralph was oblivious. Suddenly, she heard him moan in anguish and at the same time her mouth filled with a sticky, salty-sweet tasting substance. Ralph pulled away from her and sank back in his car seat, his slimy, shrinking penis still hanging out of his fly. "Wow! Wasn't that something!" he exclaimed. "You're the greatest! What a blow job! You're the greatest." He had a big grin on his face. Joanie was in shock. She hardly understood what had happened to her. Her mouth and lips and chin felt all sticky. She swallowed a large gob of the stuff in her mouth and instantly began to retch. She opened the car door and vomited on the ground. She got out of the car and began to run away from the scene of her humiliation. "Joanie! stop! Where you going? You OK?" Ralph sounded genuinely concerned. By now Joanie was crying and sobbing. Ralph caught up with her, took her in his arms, and said, "Don't cry, sweetheart. You were the greatest!" That had been the beginning of her career as a high school blow-job artist. Ralph had taught her to do tricks with her tongue and her teeth that drove him wild and she'd learned on her own when to yank his cock out of her mouth and finish the job with her hands. No more cum in her mouth, thank you. Then, when Ralph left for a summer job, it seemed that word of her skills and her willingness "somehow" had spread among the Jewish guys in town. Over that summer and the following couple of years of high school, Joanie found herself giving blow-jobs to a half dozen boys she dated. The guys loved it and it did keep them out of her pants. In this way, she'd remained a technical virgin until college, until Jake. Now that was over, all of that. She'd never kiss or suck another man's cock ever again. She knew that clearly. "Joanie... Joanie...you there?" It was Annie, once again breaking through Joanie's reverie. Joanie looked at her friend and considered telling her about Ralph and all those blow jobs and her new decision to end that aspect of her life. No, she was too confused about that period of her life to reveal it to anyone… at least for now. So, she changed the subject to a safer one. "You know, you're the first guest I've had up here. I've been so busy with theater and political stuff that I actually spend very little time here. It seems like by the time I get home, I just fall into bed and next thing you know, it's morning and I'm running to make it to class." "Not like sophomore year in the dorm, huh?" Annie asked, resuming her seated Yoga pose on the floor, just in front of Joanie. "Remember how we'd all stay up 'til practically morning, talking and shit and then sleep through our classes? Boy, to be sophomores and carefree again! I'd sure dig it! This serious student stuff gets me down." "Oh, I don't know," Joanie replied, staring at the floor, pensively. "I prefer this year. I feel like I'm doing some worthwhile things. I kinda' think my first two years here were a waste. I mean, I was just floundering, doing what other people wanted me to do, not what I wanted to do... not that I knew what I wanted or anything, but... well, I don't know. I guess it just seemed to me like college was a continuation of high school, sort of thirteenth grade, except without my parents to bug me and make sure I wasn't doing anything too bad. That's why I took off last year and worked, and it’s also the main reason I decided to take this apartment...alone. "
Joanie's thoughts were interrupted by the tea kettle whistling. She turned away and walked quickly to the hot plate where the water was boiling. Bunching a bit of her skirt material in her left hand, she grasped the hot kettle handle and poured the water into the teapot. She set it on the table amidst piles of dishes, books, school papers, unopened mail, records, and other miscellany of her college life.
Soundtrack: Suite: Judy Blue Eyes---Crosby, Stills, Nash
"Let's let it steep a bit," Joanie explained, as she walked slowly back over to near where Annie was sitting on the floor and, pushing her dirty clothes off the worn and faded plush chair, she sat.
"Hey," Annie said, looking up at her. "Why don't you sit down here... by me?" She gestured to the floor next to her.
Joanie hesitated; she felt listless and, once again, suspicious. She remained standing, her eyes lowered, and began to speak, as though talking to the floor. "Well... I... uh... I..."
Annie stared up at Joanie intently, trying to catch her eye. "Joanie, can you at least just look at me when you speak to me? Here! In the face." She smiled.
Joanie glanced down at Annie momentarily, but averted her gaze as soon as she began to speak. "Well... I... it's very hard for me to... to..."
Annie interrupted, again trying to catch Joanie's eye "...to look me in the eyes? To sit down next to me? Why's that do you think?"
Where'd that question come from? Joanie thought, raising her eyes angrily from the floor and glaring at Annie briefly. "Jeez, Annie. You're not my shrink you know!" she exclaimed, petulantly, and then again quickly averted her gaze.
That outburst startled Annie who, for the first time that night, seemed to lose her equanimity, "Well, I never thought I was! It's just kinda' weird, you know, sitting down here and you standing there talking to the floor. You know, I was just wondering what you thought that might be all about. Seemed like a reasonable enough thing to ask."
From Annie's response, Joanie realized that she'd overreacted to her friend’s question and she became concerned that she'd truly offended her. She had to try to calm herself, to get over this anxiety she was feeling about... yeah, what was it about? Was she still nervous about Annie coming on to her or was it something else? She groped for some sort of self-awareness, at the same time realizing that she also owed Annie an explanation.
Joanie knew she couldn't remain standing over Annie like this indefinitely, so with great force of will she knelt down across from her. Slowly, she sat back on her heels, spine upright, and stared in the general direction of Annie's eager face. It was an enormous struggle for her to do so, but not as hard as it was to get out the words.
"It's just that I'm not used to talking about myself to others... I mean... I feel self-conscious... like I don't want you to see me... uh... you know... to see what's inside me." She took a deep breath, this short speech having required a tremendous effort on her part.
Annie looked at Joanie and chuckled quietly, knowingly, and then, adopting a parody of a Viennese accent and stroking her chin as if she had a Freudian beard, she joked, "Ahh... zo you beleef zat I haf zee ability to zee into your zykie sroo your eyes?"
For some reason this, too, annoyed Joanie and despite her determination to make up for her earlier petulance, her back stiffened even more, as she once again snapped at Annie, "No! Of course not... I meant that metaphorically." She paused, tears came to her eyes, and her voice caught in her throat, " You know... that you'll be able to tell what I'm feeling by the expression on my face... uhhh..."
Annie turned serious when she saw the tears. She reached out her hand and, despite Joanie's flinch, touched her wet cheek and apologized sincerely, "I'm sorry, Joanie. I was just trying to get you to lighten up a little." She paused and then asked gently, "So, you really don't want me to know what you're feeling? Is that right?"
Joanie realized, now, the absurdity of her own prior statement, but she was really grasping at straws, trying to understand her own sense of panic and confusion. "Well... no; that's not it. I do want you to know what I'm feeling. It's just that... that the things that are bothering me are so new that I just don't have a handle on them. I don't know how to talk about them. And it's all confused by... uh... by what happened earlier, you know, at the party... uh… between us. You know what I mean?
Annie was smiling again, but in a totally empathetic way. She seemed to be carefully considering Joanie's most recent statement. "Well, yes. I think I know what you mean. At least part of it, I guess, is that you figure that if you're able to talk to me about your feelings, you might understand them better, but right now you're so confused that you don't even know how to begin. Is that right?"
Joanie felt relieved. That seemed about right. She shifted her weight off her knees and, constrained by her long straight skirt, she folded her legs awkwardly before her in a poor imitation of Annie's apparently natural yoga position.
"Yes! Exactly. I mean... I think that's it. Uh... plus some of the feelings are about sex and sexuality, and I guess I'm not totally clear about where I stand... or where you stand... I mean can I trust you to help me or will you be looking out for yourself? I... I know that's not a nice thing to say, but I'm trying to be honest. Annie, I guess the truth is that I'm scared." Having said that, Joanie immediately began to feel better and clearer, although she felt physically uncomfortable, as she'd gotten her skirt all tangled up in her folded knees.
Annie, too, seemed clearer. She picked up one of Joanie's hands in hers and again looked her straight in the eye, "Yes. I'm sure you are scared. That's only natural and it's even natural that you'd be suspicious of my motives. That's cool with me. Let's just feel our way through this, OK? All I can say is that no matter what happens or doesn't happen between us, sexually, I love you as a friend and a sister and that's foremost in my mind. Right now, I'm here to help you in any way I can, not to make you. Listen, babe, none of us really likes to look inside ourselves. We're all quite frightened of what we suspect lies hidden deep within us. And yet... you seem to realize that in order to work out whatever problems you have you've got to investigate those inner spaces. And, it sounds like you'd like my help in your investigation... even if I'm not a shrink, as you so rightly said."
Joanie felt a surge of warmth and hope flow through her body. She began to speak more clearly, less haltingly, although still barely meeting Annie's gaze. "Yes! Yes, I would. I'm really confused about a number of things and I feel that if I don't clear these up, if I don't figure out what's going on with me, I may screw up my life something awful. I guess that's what scares me, really. I mean... I just have this one life and I..."
Annie nodded her head gently, somberly now, as if that last thought had struck pretty close to home. "Yeah. I know what you mean. One life."
Joanie's eyes continued to avoid Annie's. They roamed the room, falling at last on the teapot, "Shit! I forgot all about the tea. I'm sure it's steeped plenty. It may even be too cold now. Wanna’ try some?" She was standing again.
Annie smiled up at her. "Sure. Let's have some tea and then why don't we just talk about whatever you feel comfortable with talking about. It doesn't have to be heavy."
Joanie quickly crossed the room, back to the teapot and poured out two cups of yellowish, tepid-looking tea. "Shit! I was afraid I let it sit too long!"
"S'O.K. I don't mind. As long as it's got some flavor, I'm fine with it."
Joanie carried the two cups precariously over to where Annie was sitting. As she bent down to hand Annie hers, she was conscious of Annie's eyes, looking down her blouse at her small, freely hanging breasts. Alarmed at first, she shot Annie an angry look, but, as she did so, she dimly recognized the emotion playing across Annie's face. It was one that Joanie rarely encountered: tenderness. Annie's eyes were soft and kind, as they appeared to caress Joanie's naked breasts. A shiver traveled up Joanie's spine. Her face warmed. Her eyes moistened. All her suspicions of Annie's motives melted away, replaced by a mix of gratitude, affection, and... yes, she had to admit it to herself... sexual arousal. As difficult as it was to acknowledge these sexual feelings, even if only to herself, doing so afforded Joanie a measure of relief that she felt flow throughout her previously rigid body. She just plain relaxed and, as she did so, she found herself slowly sitting down... on the floor... next to Annie... looking into her quietly smiling face... speaking, tentatively at first about what had been plaguing her for months now: her relationship with Jake.
Slowly, warming to the subject of her relationship with Jake, Joanie began, "Well, one of the things that's been on my mind... you know, that's been bothering me is... well, you know, Jake's sort of my boyfriend, or at least he was. I guess he isn't really anymore, but in a way it's not really clear. See, I've been, you know, sleeping with him since freshman year... my freshman year, not his; he’d been dropping in and out of the U since 1962. So anyway, I’ve been sleeping with him, you know, off-and-on for more than three years now."
Soundtrack: Piece of My Heart---Janis Joplin
Joanie realized she was fumbling with the words, so she paused and sipped her now cold, but flavorful tea. She became dimly aware of Janis Joplin singing in the background, but the words rushing through her brain now weren't the words of her song; they were Joanie’s words, her thoughts and feelings about Jake and her and, as she realized this, she felt a rush of energy that seemed to go straight to her mouth, causing her to speak much faster than she had been. The words began to tumble out as though they had a life of their own.
"See, I met Jake my freshman year. He had just quit the football team. It was a big deal, him being this really hot player and all. Well, I don't know anything about football, but I do know something about men's bodies and the first time I saw Jake… I think it was at a party… I said to myself: Now that cat's got a body!" Joanie laughed, giddily at hearing these words, as if it were someone else who'd said them.
Annie smiled ever so slightly in reaction to Joanie's laughter, but didn't laugh herself. Instead, she asked bluntly, "What's funny, Joanie?"
By now, Joanie definitely had the giggles, and she barely heard Annie's query. "Oh, I don't know. It's just that I kinda' sound like a guy."
At this thought, she lowered her chin and, eyes twinkling, spoke in a mock deep-voice, "Great bod, baby!"
Then, shifting back to her own, now excited voice, she continued at top speed, "You know, it's like we're in a boy's locker room, changing after a game, and I'm bragging to you about this really hot chick I'm balling." She laughed again, "Know what I mean?"
But Annie wasn't laughing or even smiling now. Her face had turned serious and she asked, "Is that the way you feel? Like you're bragging about a sexual exploit?"
This question and the seriousness in Annie's demeanor took Joanie aback. Her smile quickly faded and her eyes left Annie's face, once again staring at the floor. Her jocose mood was shattered. "No! Well... I don't know. Maybe. I don't really know... I mean that's the thing... I don't really know what I think about my relationship with Jake... uh… you know, the whole thing seems really fucked up to me."
Annie nodded at this, as if to agree, but said nothing. Joanie took this as a signal that she should continue. "See, 'til tonight, I hadn't really seen much of Jake all semester... and I haven't slept with him since the start of the term. I don't know why exactly. I was too busy or he was too busy or...?" Joanie stopped and began to bite at her nails furiously.
Annie reached over and removed Joanie's hand from her mouth. She held it and looking into Joanie's now troubled face, asked simply, but kindly "Or...?"
Joanie glanced down at her hand, now held firmly by Annie. Then she looked up into Annie's serious face. "Well. I guess the truth is I don't want to see him. I think our relationship is over. And.… I guess the real truth is: I'm not sure it was ever much of a relationship. I mean, we used to screw a lot, sure. And we went to parties and the movies and hung out and all, but I don't really know why. We were so different from one another and.… well, I don't know about him, but I... I, uh..."
Annie had been listening intently and had relaxed her grip on Joanie's hand. Yet, their hands were still in contact. Only now, it was more like they were each holding the other's hand. Annie asked very quietly, almost in a whisper, "Something hard for you to say?"
Joanie sucked in her breath and then slowly, but steadily she began to reveal what she was only dimly aware of herself. As she spoke, she felt an emotional and physical relief. "Yeah... real hard. Well, what I was thinking was that I... I think maybe I never really enjoyed sex with Jake. I know that probably sounds weird. I mean, we're talking about balling one of the biggest studs on campus, supposedly, but really, there was always something empty about our sex, like it was just mechanical fucking. At least I felt that way. I really don't know what he felt."
Annie seemed totally tuned into Joanie's wavelength, like she already knew all about what Joanie was telling her. Annie asked, again very gently, "Did you ever talk about that with Jake?"
Joanie was shocked by the question. "God, no! I mean, how would you do that? 'Uh, Jake? How was it for you? It sucked for me!' " She laughed sardonically.
Annie allowed herself a small laugh, but then turned serious again. "Well. There might have been other ways to talk about it with him, doncha’ think?"
Joanie was beginning to recognize how seriously Annie was approaching this whole issue and she realized that her own laughter was a cover for how serious it really was…for her. Looking down, she became aware that she was squeezing Annie's hand. It felt good to be doing so, but her self-consciousness about it caused her to let go and reach for her teacup instead. She took a sip and thought about Annie's question. It was a fair one, but.…
Joanie's thoughts became words. "I suppose I could have talked to him about it, but you don't know Jake. He's kind of remote, you know unapproachable... about a lot of things... really most things. I mean... you don't really know him, do you?"
Annie smiled slightly. "No. No, I don't. Not really, anyway. I mean, I see him at parties and I sort of feel like I know him a little because you and I are friends and also, you know, I'm real good friends with his buddy, Stephen, but I guess really... well, you know, he's kinda’ become almost a mythic figure in U-Town these past few years, sorta’ larger than life... so I'm not sure what I know about him. I mean, even as you were talking about your relationship, it almost startled me to hear you, a real flesh and blood person who I know pretty well, sitting across from me, speaking about being his old lady. I mean, it's like having someone say, 'Well, the other day the Dalai Lama and I were watching TV, and....' Know what I mean?"
Joanie listened, fascinated by Annie's rambling. This was a side of her she'd never seen before. It was almost as if Annie were in awe of Jake. "Yeah, I guess so," Joanie ventured, adding quickly with a broad smile and a salacious wink, "But, I can assure you that Jake is all flesh and blood, himself!"
This comment appeared to startle Annie, turning her thoughtful. "Hmmm, what do you mean by that, exactly?"
Now Joanie was embarrassed by her foolish braggadocio. She apologized, "I don't know. I guess I was just being silly. It's just that what you said sounded so absurd... I mean like funny absurd... Jake as the Dalai Lama? That's funny. Really, it is. Jake's just a guy, no different from lots of guys. All this mythic figure stuff about him is really a lot of crap. Believe me. I know him. I've known him for years now. He's just a guy. A weird guy, maybe, but just a guy, nonetheless."
Annie smiled at Joanie's insistence. "Well! OK! I'm prepared to accept Jake as just a guy, as you say, although I confess that I wonder what you mean by that."
That question really shook Joanie. What had she meant by saying Jake was just a regular guy? And why was she being so insistent about it? Once again, she stared down at the floor. Hesitating before speaking, she glanced over at Annie, but then, as the words slowly trickled out, she looked everywhere in the room, but into Annie's face. "Well, I guess that's it. I mean, that's what I wanted to talk to you about: Jake's and my relationship. I mean... If I do, you might see what I mean about him... or maybe you won't... maybe I'll..."
Joanie interrupted her own jumbled thoughts, "OK. Maybe I should just start at the beginning…you know, when I first met Jake. Like I said before, it was my freshman year and he'd already been here a few years and had been this big football star, but had quit the team, causing a big stir. But see, he was also this incredible artist. You’ve seen his paintings; they’re totally amazing, right? They’re so full of this... this energy and... and... uh... truth; you know, truth about the horrors of our society and our world. They’re scary, but at the same time... I don’t know... enlightening. I mean they make you understand things better. I mean, really clearly! “
Joanie sucked in her breath and continued at top speed. “So, anyway, when I met him he was this BMOC and I was... well... I was this chick who’d been real popular in high school, especially with guys. Uhm... well, maybe I’ll go into that more another time. So, we meet at this party and, well, of course I know who he is, but he doesn’t know me from a hole in the wall. Still, I can tell he’s attracted to me right away. We start talking and pretty soon, I say, ‘Let’s split and go up to my room and smoke a joint.’ Well, it was like he expected me to say this. He didn’t seem at all surprised or think I was being too aggressive or anything. So we go to my room, get stoned, and we ball. Actually, we ball most of the night. Seems like he must have come three or four times in all. As for me, I was feeling, well... I guess I did see it as kind of a conquest... I mean THE Jake DiAngelis, you know?”
"Whoah, Joanie! Hold on. That record needle's bugging me. How 'bout a new record?"
"Huh?" Joanie was so caught up in her memories that the repetitive buzz and click of the end of the record had failed to penetrate her consciousness. Now, Annie's request brought her down to Earth and she heard it.
"Oh yeah... sure."
She rose to her feet, a bit unsteadily and walked over to the record player where she removed the offending record and tossed it on top of its jacket on the table. Quickly scanning the other albums lying there, she didn't see anything she felt like listening to. Then, in her mind, she heard the seductive pleadings of the Mick Jagger from earlier on the party. Smiling, she squatted in front of the shelf that held most of her albums and quickly flipped through them until she came to the one she was looking for.
"Yes!" she exclaimed, as she stood up.
The familiar sound of the Rolling Stones filled the room.
Joanie smiled and turned back to Annie. "How's that?" she asked.
Annie smiled back, although she seemed a little taken aback by Joanie's selection. "Yeah, great, babe... uh... but.. well, never mind."
Joanie danced her way over to where Annie was still sitting and, surprising herself, she reached her hands down to Annie, "C'mon, let's dance!"
She pulled Annie to her feet and the two of them began to dance together, close, eye-to-eye, but not quite touching. Joanie snapped her fingers to the infectious drumbeat and her feet kept time with the rhythm of the bass line. The rest of her body meanwhile swayed to the sexuality of the melody and its words, almost as if in counterpoint. Her eyes met Annie’s, who appeared to regard Joanie in amazement, as though she were wondering if this was really the same woman who earlier had been so afraid of being seduced by her.
Although absorbed in the music, Joanie found herself fascinated by Annie's dancing, so different from her own. The motions of Annie's larger, more voluptuous body seemed quite disconnected from either the beat or the words of the song playing. Her feet were more or less planted on the floor, her hips moving simultaneously to and fro and back and forth in a kind of figure eight in space. Her large tanned arms, raised over her head, swayed slowly from side to side, like a giant underwater kelp being swept by the waves. Her eyes were closed now, and a dreamy smile played over her startlingly beautiful face. Joanie was intrigued. It was as though Annie were dancing to a song of her own, one without a beat and with an altogether different message. What was that message, Joanie wondered?
Now, as Joanie continued to watch Annie dance, she saw her slowly lower her arms and cover her large breasts with her hands. Joanie stopped dancing and just stared. Annie was massaging her own breasts in the most extraordinarily sensual way. The expression on her face altered. No longer a dream-like smile, her face had taken on an intense look of pleasure, building in the way Joanie associated with guys approaching orgasm when she gave them blowjobs. She was amazed and...she had to admit it, once again,... turned on.
No! She just couldn't handle it! Not with a woman! Joanie turned away from Annie and walked quickly toward the bathroom. As she did so, she called back over her shoulder in an attempt to break the spell Annie seemed to be in, "Hey! Sorry but I gotta' pee."
Annie must not have heard her because she didn't respond. At the bathroom door, Joanie turned and looked back. Annie had dropped to her knees. Her eyes were still closed, her face contorted with pleasure. Her left hand was massaging her right breast, but her right hand was reaching between her legs, having previously hiked up her long skirt to reveal oversized white men's cotton briefs. Joanie was shocked, as she watched Annie lower herself to the floor, roll onto her back and pull aside the baggy underwear to reveal her bushy black crotch. Joanie continued staring, as she saw Annie plunge almost her entire hand into her vagina, leaving free only her thumb with which she now began to vigorously rub her clit.
Finally, it was Annie's moaning that broke Joanie's concentration. She had never heard a woman experiencing such pleasure. Nor had she ever felt so disturbed by anything she had heard or seen. She stumbled into the bathroom and slammed the door hard behind her, shaking the door frame and making a sound like a gunshot. She was sure Annie had heard that and hoped it would cause her to stop.
O.K., she thought. There's nothing wrong with masturbating. God knows, I've done it often enough... but by myself for Chrissakes! Annie's doing it there in my room with me standing right here, watching her... well, that just sucks!
Joanie felt violated, as though both her personal space and her body had been invaded by some obscene force. She heard herself mutter half-aloud, "I mean who the hell does she think she is to come here and do that... especially when I told her how scared I was of... of... Well, what is it exactly I'm scared of?"
Joanie pulled up her skirt to pee and eased herself onto the toilet. Her heart was beating erratically and her mind was racing too fast for her to grab hold of any single thought for more than a moment. Images of her own sexual experiences careened through her head. Blow jobs, fucks, sixty-nining, more blowjobs... yeah, mostly blowjobs. And in all these images, she searched desperately for signs of her own pleasure... for sounds like those she'd heard from Annie moments earlier in the other room. She heard only the sounds of the guys... their panting, their moaning, their grunts, their screams. Where was her voice, her pleasure?
Joanie's face fell toward her lap as she burst into tears, sobbing. "Nowhere, she thought. “No sounds of pleasure from me! No pleasure for me! None!"
Instead, the sounds she heard were coming through the door from the other room ... the last, fading, pleading, words from Mick Jagger.
