Shining White

         She flipped her waist-length, pale gold hair back over her shoulder; then turned, slow and deliberate, and watched her image in the mirror. She wore a mid-calf length, buttercream-colored froth of a dress covered in lace and pearls. She stood tall, elegant and shining in a dozen shades of pale.

         “This outfit is so . . . so . . . Oh I don’t know, posh, I guess. Denim is more my style.

         “Are you sure I need to wear this?” she asked. “I’ll stand out like a sore thumb.”

         “That’s the whole idea, my dear,” he answered. “If you are going to do this, be brazen about it.”

         She sighed as she turned once again. “I can’t remember ever being brazen about anything. I like to fade into the background and watch other people be brazen. Brazen just isn’t ME.”

         “Tonight you will be something different, something unexpected and new,” he directed. “You will shine like the brightest star in the darkest night. Everyone’s eyes will be on you.”

         “I don’t know,” she faltered.

         “Are you chickening out?”

         “No . . .” She paused. “But I didn’t expect to be the center of attention. I just thought I’d slip in and sit in the back and look.”

         His laughter rippled forth. “Sweetheart, even dressed in simple black from head to toe, you’d stand out. You might as well capitalize on it.

         “Now remember,” he continued, “for your own sake people must think you are my intended. They have to believe you have abandoned your world and your people in favor of ours. If anyone suspects this is only an adventure for you they will tear you apart – literally.”

         “I know,” she replied. “Besides, I’ve been in love before. I know how to act!” She slipped over to him and slid her hand around his waist, pulling him close with a hint of possession in the movement. She gazed into his eyes with mindless adoration and leaned her head on his shoulder. She pulled his arm around her and nibbled at his ear with a throaty laugh.

         He gasped and pulled away. “Okay, I believe you! Knock it off!” She laughed a real belly laugh and flashed an impish grin.

         “Come on!” he said, grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it. Then he scooped up her coat, a cream swirl of feather soft velvet and draped it over her shoulders. The bell rang and a disembodied voice announced their cab.

         “We’ll be right down.” He punched the security code and ushered her out the door.

         She paused in the hallway. He could almost see her donning a persona for the evening. She stool taller and carried herself with an instinctive grace, a regal lady in her element. She looked over her shoulder at him with an enticing half-smile.

         Lords! She’s beautiful! He gasped and took her arm to escort her to the elevator.

         The gleaming chrome elevator doors slid open with a whisper. The young operator gaped at her with admiration. Her escort stood taller; pride in her welled up inside him.

         “Lobby, please.” He tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and drew her into the elevator at his side.

         As they crossed the lobby, all eyes seemed to seek out the shining star that she was that evening. Males sighed with silent wishes and erotic imaginings.

         Females scoffed with envy and pulled their male companions away from the sight. The doorman threw the door open with a flourish and a courtly bow. She smiled and winked at him, delighted in his surprise when he realized just who she was.

         A cab waited at the curb, doors open and inviting. He handed her in and saw her comfortable before stepping in himself, amazed and pleased at the change in her as she played her role with abandon and delight. He surprised himself as he too slid into the role of her beloved with enjoyment.

         “Man, you can’t be serious!” the cabbie exclaimed when he gave their destination. “You can’t take her down there. They’ll eat her alive.” She smiled and winked at the cabbie. He stared at her, startled.

         “She’ll be fine,” her escort said. “She belongs to me. They won’t bother her.” As he spoke he slipped a large antique gold and topaz ring out of his pocket. “Here put this on,” he said handing it to her.

         She started to put it on her index finger. “Like an engagement ring,” he instructed. “Anyone who sees it will know it and you for mine. It’s your badge of protection, so to speak.”

“Oh!” She slipped it onto her third finger. It was a little loose but not to the point of sliding off unnoticed. “It’s beautiful! I’ve never worn anything like this before. It’s almost like it’s someone else’s hand.” She laughed delighted in her playact, and snuggled into his side.

         He felt a surge of warmth and desire and thought to pull back. I can’t feel this way! She’s a friend and this is just an adventure. There can’t be anything more between us.

         He didn’t pull away.

         He sighed and wrapped his arm around her as if she belonged to him alone.

         The cab rolled to a stop. The flashing entrance lighting of the night club shed throbbing brilliance through the cabs dark-tinted back windows. Clued to the game the cabbie hopped out and hurried to open the door for the couple. The gentleman emerged, smoothed his midnight blue suit coat and checked his tie for straightness; the picture of well to do masculinity.

         Chocolate brown female eyes sought him out. Lilting voices laughed and called, demanding his notice. He turned from them and held his hand out to her.

         She inched across the seat taking care to stay in the shadow as long as possible. One slender, pale foot in a gold tipped, off-white stiletto slipped out and balanced in a delicate "en pointe" on the pavement. She almost flowed out of the car and stood tall. She paused as if posing for the gaping crowd. She shook the long curtain of her hair back, aloof with an almost regal air. Her light amber eyes danced with mischief and anticipation.

         A rumble rolled through the crowd waiting for admission to the nightclub. Snippets of conversation reached the couple’s ears.

         “Who is she?” “How dare he!” “I can’t believe it!” Their words clamored to a hornet-like buzz as the couple stepped forward.

         “Evening Sir,” the huge bouncer greeted them. “Your reservation card please.”

         She laid her left hand on his upper arm with a brazen air and displayed the filigree and topaz ring, as he handed the reservation card, and a ten dollar bill, to the bouncer. The man appeared to check the card and his admittance list a moment before removing the chain to admit the couple.

         “She’s a real looker,” he said leering at her and nudging her escort as they passed.

         They ignored him.

         The heavy beat of contemporary rock music pounded in sync with her heartbeat as they entered the night club. Low flickering lights and candles on the tables painted the club interior a soft, golden glow. He led her to a secluded table on a raised platform near the back of the club. He sat her in shadow with only the candle to spotlight her face. She glowed, limed by the ambient light, one spot of purity in a world of flickering dark.

         She sat quiet, remote, and watched the dancers on the floor. She sipped her drink, a milky white concoction. “Part of the image,” he had whispered as the cocktail waitress set it in front of her. “It’s potent, so go slow,” he warned, a warm laugh rippling under the current of his voice.

         She did.

         She held a portion of herself aloof as she played the part of aristocratic lady holding court before her affianced’s friends. His friends and non-friends trickled by the table. Some with genuine warmth congratulating the supposed engaged couple, others only to gawk and gossip with malicious intent.

         “Did you see her hand?”

         “She’s wearing his grandmother’s ring. I’d know it anywhere.”

         “She can’t be!”

         “She is!”

         “Why can’t people like her stay with their own kind?”

         “Guess they think our kind is better!” This followed by a hard laugh.

         She leaned forward, caressed his arm and pulled him close so she could whisper in his ear.

         He listened. Groaned a little. Then stood.

         He bowed a little and pulled her chair out. Offered his hand to help her stand. He escorted her across the room to the ladies’ room. He pulled her close and nibbled at her ear to mask his words.

         “I can’t go in with you. Do your business quick. Don’t look anyone in the eye and don’t speak unless they speak first. Your safety depends on this.”

         She nodded. “I understand.”

         “I’ll wait right here for you.” He leaned with feigned insolence against the wall and pulled a cigarette out of his coat pocket. He lit it and took a long pull. “Go on, you’ll do fine.”

         She sucked in a deep breath and pushed through the door. Fear pulsed through her veins. Not a bone-killing fear but a strange almost sensual fear. It invigorated her and almost titillated. She swept a slow gaze across the small room above the heads of the young women clustered there. The laughter and gossip halted with her entrance. A hostile silence weighted the air and made it almost hard to breathe.

         She pasted a small smile on her face and stepped to the first open stall. She felt a wave of relief flood over her as she locked the door behind her. Whispers wove a net of menace that snaked through the room and threatened to envelope her as she finished in the stall.

         She stood. Smoothed her dress and re-wrapped herself in her persona for the evening. It took all the strength she had to open the door and face that group.

         She stepped forward. The room was stuffed. There wasn’t an inch of free space between her and the door. There was no path to the sink. She paused and let them shoot daggers at her with their eyes. She reached into her small gold lame evening bag and pulled out a handi-wipe. She cleaned her hands and dropped the wipe in the toilet behind her.

         She nodded to the group, and stepped out.

         “We could rip your heart out,” an angry voice threatened. She looked for its owner.

         “Yes, I suppose you could,” she answered.

         She gazed above their heads and didn’t move. Her heart thumped a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Fear tickled up and down her spine, urgent, demanding.

         She ignored it and waited.

         A tiny path opened to the door. She picked her way through, inch by inch.

Rough elbows and angry shoulders poked and prodded as she passed. She shoved her fear aside and said not a word. She looked over her shoulder when she reached the door. Her hand rested on the knob. She nodded, slightly, and stepped out.

         A sigh escaped her lips as she met his eyes. She was trembling, her breath coming in snagged, harsh little snatches.

         “She’s got guts. I’ll give her that.” The words escaped the small rest room before the door shut. The sounds of laughter and gossip resumed.

         He stubbed out the cigarette he didn’t want in the first place and stepped up to take her arm.

         “You okay?” he asked in a lowered voice.

         “Yeah,” she paused. “Yeah, I really am.” She smiled in genuine relief. The hardest part of the evening now behind her, he led her back to their table. The floor show was about to start.

         She settled back in her seat to enjoy the show. The comic on stage was acerbic, intelligent and witty. His ghetto dialect and self deprecatory comments had the crowd in stitches. She relaxed and let the laughter bubble forth.

         Suddenly one of the spotlights lanced around and speared her in its harsh glow.

         “Ahhh! I thought so,” the comic drawled. “We’s got white folks in the house. Aww betta keep it clean.” A sea of dark faces swiveled to stare at hers, the one white face in the place. She trembled. Her heart sputtered to a near stop. Silence reigned for an instant. She regained her composure.

         “Not on my account I hope,” she returned. She stood and dropped half a curtsy. “Please, do continue as you were.”

         Laughter and applause erupted. The show went on. No one seemed to notice her presence any longer.

         “That was well done,” he told her later as they rode in a cab back to her house. His dark face shone in pride over her success. “I didn’t really think you could pull it off.”

         “Me either,” she admitted. She melted into the seat and let her eyes droop closed.

         She dozed.

         He gently nudged her awake as the cab pulled to a stop in front of her home. The nightlight glowed from the small bungalow in the cozy lower-middle class neighborhood. If it had been daylight lace and cotton curtains in the surrounding windows would have been tweaked aside so curious eyes could see who was arriving in a cab. People in her neighborhood did not take cabs. Frugality demanded they ask a neighbor to drive them instead.

         She sighed, her evening’s adventure at an end. She slipped the topaz ring off her finger and held it out to him. He opened the door and stepped out of the cab helping her out after him. He reached out and closed her fingers around the ring.

         “Keep it,” he said. “It suits you. The dress and shoes too.”

         “It was great,” she said. “I’d heard black night clubs were amazing and it was! Thank you for taking me.”

         He laughed. “Sure, but never again.”

         She grinned and waved as she started up the walk to her door. She still moved like a regal goddess.

         “Maybe I ought to try a Gay Bar next time,” she tossed over her shoulder.

         He rolled his eyes and jumped into the cab.