by Amy Casseaux
"Okay, I've heard a lot of things, but I can't believe what I just heard. Please tell me again, just so I'll know I'm not going insane."
That was my Dad's reply to my idea. Not anger, just disbelief. I can understand disbelief because I once spent the best part of three days in denial of something that was pretty undeniable. Slowly and dispassionately, I repeated what I'd told him earlier and waited for the explosion.
"You got up on a table and danced without your clothes, and now someone wants to pay you to do it on a nightly basis up in Houston.", he said, as if repeating it again would make it make sense.
"Well, it would help cover my college tuition. I know things are tight for you and Mom. It would only be for the summer. The guy says I'd make a lot in tips, too."
"A lot in tips, too", my father repeated numbly. Was it my father? I wanted to reach out and touch his face to make sure. He has this little mole on his cheek that...
"HELL, NO, YOU CAN'T STRIP FOR MONEY IN HOUSTON SIX NIGHTS A WEEK!!! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?"
It was my father. When he roars, Mario D'Agastino can be heard clear to the far side of the island. With his outburst over, he began to laugh uncontrollably. I reached out to Mom in fear because this is most unlike my Dad. From her, I got a sense of fear and bewilderment. Was it for me or Dad?
In order to explain what happened Saturday night, I kinda have to explain what happened about four years ago. It was a day that changed my life forever and the image is indelibly imprinted in my mind because it was the last image I ever saw. It had been during a hurricane and I'd been trying to start the generator behind my Dad's restaurant. It was an older model and it didn't work well - you had to prime it manually. The wind was blowing and it was dark and somehow I spilled some fuel and when I hit the starter there was a flash and I got burned - right in my face. My corneas were burned and I never saw anything ever again. It left me blind for the rest of my life.
My face is mostly okay now. Everyone says so, even my most trusted friend, Amber. I still have burn scars around my eyes, and on my eyelids. They don't close all the way. My eyebrows and my eyelashes are gone from the flash. My eyes are hard to look at from what Amber told me. Since everyone who has seen them since that day has gasped, I'd kinda suspected that. I started wearing dark glasses before I left my hospital room. Now a pair of shiny reflective wraparound Oakleys keeps the world from seeing the damage. Only my family and one or two friends have ever seen me without them in the past few years.
Okay... so let's segue to last Saturday night. I was at a party, I'd had too much to drink, and yes I know I'm still underage, but this is Texas. Don't drink means don't get caught. My boyfriend, Kevin, and I were there. So was Amber and her boyfriend, and some other kids I'd known in high school. People who had once been close friends, but who had shunned me after the accident and who were just now getting comfortable being around me again.
I think it was Chrissy who took off her top first on a dare. From what I hear, she never wears a bra anyway, so there they were for the whole world, minus me, to see. The music was up and she started dancing - I could tell from all the lewd comments coming from the guys. Maggie and Theresa followed suit and then so did Amber with Kevin doing a play by play narrative. That was when it happened. Kevin told me that I had a better body than any of them and why wasn't I out there doing it, too?
Yeah, I was drunk, but no one had ever told me that I was beautiful. Oh sure, my Dad did, but in a way that all parents tell their kids. Kevin said my body was beautiful and wanted me to show everyone.
So I did.
We were at Chrissy's Dad's house over on Tiki Island - the high dollar part of Galveston. We were out on the back deck above the canals that weave in between and around the houses. Some neighborhoods have alleys, Tiki Island had canals - and everyone had a boat or two. I'm getting side tracked here. Back to the story.
We were on the deck - outside - and I stood up and took off my top and my bra (I know better. I don't want them dragging the ground when I'm older) and I started dancing. The shoes went next, then my skirt, then my panties - the next thing I knew Kevin had grabbed my hips and lifted me on to a table. I was so into the music that it took me awhile to notice that I was dancing alone with everyone watching me. How can a blind girl tell everyone is watching, you ask? The same way you know that someone across a room is staring at you, waiting for you to look their way. You just know. Maybe it comes from my growing up waiting on tables. Anyway, I suddenly knew that all eyes were on me. I stopped and I got very self-conscious. I climbed down and began to grope around for my clothes.
It was one of those really embarrassing moments for blind people. Sometimes you're totally functional and people are asking how you do that without seeing. Sometimes, you're just there, one of the crowd except that people kind of watch you out of the corners of their eyes, wondering what you see. Then there are those other times, when you're acting like everyone expects a blind person to act, groping around for things that are right next to you. You lose orientation and you're crawling or walking around with your hands out in front of you, trying to find things and you know that you're being stared at and you hate it. You just hate it because you feel so damned helpless. Very uncool. Your face burns with embarrassment and anger. Mine sure was just then.
Amber came and helped me gather my clothes up and led me to a room where I got dressed, then she held me while I shook all over, trying not to cry. What had I been thinking? After a while, I asked her to get me home, but before we could leave, the cops arrived. Someone had complained about the nude dancing.
So there we were, all calling our parents to come meet us at the jail when one of Chrissy's neighbors came over and tried to talk the cops out of arresting us. He flatly denied that there had been any nudity and claimed that he'd been on his back porch listening to our music and watching us. He also said that one of us had been wearing a flesh colored halter top and that it had looked like she was topless. Chrissy produced some garment and I heard the man say that was the one.
Maybe it was close to shift change and the cops didn't want to do the paperwork. Whatever the reason, they let our parents come and get us and take us home - without any criminal charges. Hurray!
That was two nights ago. Needless to say I'm grounded, which at the age almost twenty-one seems silly. The thing is, I live at home during the summer semester when I only have two classes a week. No dorm, so I live by their rules. The same rules I lived by when I was growing up. Shit!
Anyway, getting back to what happened today: because I've always been active all my life, I tend to exercise when I get bored. I was in the backyard on my Dad's weight pile doing some lat pull downs - I don't use a lot of weight; I prefer doing more reps with less weight because I don't want bulging muscles, just good tone. I'm blind but I'm a woman. I want to look good.
I was between reps when I heard an unfamiliar voice call out. "Hello?"
It caught me off guard and I set the hand weights down and picked up a long bar. "Who's there?"
My Aunt Pam, who is also blind, has taught me some self defense moves. I was at home alone except for my little sister who was inside, so I was definitely in defensive mode.
"My name is Conners. I saw you at a party Saturday night. I'd like to talk to you if I could."
By now I was oriented on his voice and I had the bar in front of me at roughly a forty-five degree angle, tilted slightly forward. I was listening for cues and I was prepared to bash over-head or sweep low if he got any closer. "Stay where you are!"
Does he know I'm blind? Is he alone? I thought. I was oriented on where I thought he was. I could hear no movement. Very slowly, he said, "Please don't hit me with that. I'm not here to hurt you, I'm here to hire you. I want to give you a job."
Judging by the sound of his voice, he hadn't moved. I said, "Stay where you are and you won't be hurt. Don't come any closer."
That was when I heard Chrissy say, "Oh, Angela, put that silly thing down. He knows you're blind. This is Mr. Conners, the guy that kept us from going to jail the other night. He's okay."
I relaxed. "Chrissy, in the future, please let me know when you're there, and please introduce people. For all I knew he was some perv."
"I don't know, you looked kind of funny there."
Bitch!, I thought, then remembered my manners. "Mr. Conners, thanks for helping the other night. Won't you please sit down over here?"
I swapped the weight bar for my cane and walked over to the picnic table by the grille. Once we were seated, he said, "I was glad to help. I know who phoned in the complaint. She's an old sourpussed church lady that hates for anyone to have a good time. She's tried to get me thrown out of the neighborhood because she knows what line of business I'm in."
"What line of business is that?"
"I own several strip clubs in Houston."
I had to laugh. "So you really were watching us Saturday night."
"I was indeed. I'm always looking for new talent. That's why I came by here today. To offer you a job."
"Doing what?"
"The same thing you were doing on Saturday night."
That brings us back to now. It was after closing time at my Dad's restaurant. Mom had come there after getting off from the shipyard to help out. Aside from bussing tables and setting them up again, I can take orders and run the cash register (there's an electronic gizmo that identifies bills for me) and do some food prep, but I'm very much afraid of working around the stove and the ovens. At home alone, I can cook, but a busy commercial kitchen is too big, has too many people moving around, and too may chances to get hurt. Hence, Mom does much of what I used to do during the dinner rush, after getting off from her regular job. Dad has a part timer - an older retired lady - to help with lunch. Things have been hard on them since I went blind, I know.
Anyway, my parents and I were sitting at a table with my Aunt Pam and Uncle Bob. I knew that if I had any chance of selling this, it would be with Aunt Pam's help. She and Uncle Bob hadn't "just happened" to stop by tonight. I called earlier and begged her to help.
Aunt Pam is really cool. If I have any coolness at all, I learned it from her. She lost her vision not too long before I did and she was the one who bitch-slapped me out of the funk I was in and made me move forward emotionally. I know I was a whiny crybaby at first and I'm not proud of the way acted back then. I owe Aunt Pam a lot - like for saving my life on top of everything else. I'm not supposed to know that she's helping my parents with my tuition, but I do. That's why I was trying to earn some money and ease their collective burden.
My Dad was still laughing as if he'd lost his mind. I decided to plunge ahead. "Look, I know this isn't easy for you guys. I know it won't be easy for me. I have to learn to dance better, how to keep my orientation on the stage, I'll have to practice hard, but the money is really good. I'll have a contract for the rest of the summer that will guarantee..."
Dad said, "You're not even twenty-one yet! You can't sign that contract any more than you can legally work in that club! It's ridiculous."
"I will be twenty-one in two weeks. It will be two hard weeks of practice before I can go on. I'll only be in the club during the morning when it's closed and the liquor is locked away. During practice, I won't be nude, I'll have tights and leotard on. No laws will be broken. Mr. Conners is willing to pay me a little - enough to cover Kevin's gas money to drive me back and forth - while I'm rehearsing"
In a sweet voice, my Mom said, "Angela, wake up! Breakfast is ready. You're gonna be late for school!"
Dad said, "You got that one right, Jess. She's dreaming."
I was down to my last hope. "Aunt Pam, what do you think?"
I could almost hear her shrug. "It's your body. I'd say it's your decision."
Before I could thank her, Dad said, "Not while she's living in my house!"
"Dad, I'm twenty. I can move out. Kevin wants me to move in with him anyway. In two weeks I can sign that contract without your consent. I'm asking for your blessing because I don't want to split up the family over this. I don't want to cause a great big rift between us. You don't have to ever see me do it. No one outside of this room needs to know. I'll be doing it Houston, not here on the island. I'll definitely be using another name and lots of makeup. Most of the people will refuse to believe I'm actually blind. It's not like this is some big shame that you're gonna have to live down. No one needs to know."
"Angela, I....", he sighed deeply. "That's not it. I'm not worried about what people will say, I'm not worried that it will hurt the restaurant. I'm worried for you. What happens if someone attacks you in the parking lot or follows you home? It's not the safest line of work."
"I thought about that. It's in my contract that I get a two bouncer escort to and from my cab or whoever picks me up and drops me off, and I don't have to work the room between dances. I'll be backstage."
It went on like that for over an hour. I have a pretty level head on my shoulders. I like to think things out in advance. When your blind, that's how you have to do everything. Every objection Dad and Mom thought of, I had an answer for. Aunt Pam helped with a quiet word here and there. Finally, Dad gave in. The next day, with Dad looking over my shoulder, I signed the Brailled contract.
Rehearsal wasn't easy, but I hadn't expected it to be. Using my cane, I mapped the backstage area and the stage, then I began to practice moves. It took hours, but I finally knew exactly where the edges of the stage were. I knew how many walking steps, how many dancing steps, how many spins and kicks I had to work with. Mr. Conners had a dance instructor come in and help me choreograph four distinctly different routines. A costumer made four different outfits. I practiced and I practiced and I practiced until I almost dropped.
Then came my debut. Dad was there, as was Kevin and Uncle Bob. Believe it or not , Aunt Pam was there for moral support. She assured me that I could do it and she assured Dad that he wouldn't spend the rest of his life on a therapist's couch. My friend Chrissy, she of the soon to be dangling boobs, had been hired as well. She'd already been dancing for a week. With her help on makeup and dressing, I stood backstage waiting for my cue. My stomach was in my throat when I heard my stage name called and I stepped out.
The funny thing is, I knew there people - well, men - if men are actually people - out there. I know they were watching me. I know hands were on crotches and tongues were hanging out because that's how some men behave. Still, I had to keep steady to the beat, count steps, pose, count seconds, bump, grind, turn, high kick, pivot...
I was so into performing that I guess the reality of it never sunk in. Can there be advantages to being blind? All I know is, when the last downbeat faded and I was done, there was applause like I had never heard before...
... and it was for me. I took a bow and smiled, then oriented by the pole and went backstage to where my cane waited. With it in hand, I went to the dressing room to get ready for the next dance. No sooner had I sat down than my cell phone rang.
"Hello?"
"It's Kevin. No one out here can believe it! Your Dad still hasn't spoken. His mouth is just hanging open. Your Uncle Bob is so red he's glowing and your Aunt Pam is laughing her butt off at both of them."
"What about you?"
"Honey, I don't know whether to be jealous or proud. You weren't like any of the other acts. You outclassed 'em all."
"Tell me more, tell me more..."
I felt a hand on my shoulder. I heard my Mom say, "No, I'm not telling you again, Angela. Get up and get out of bed! We've got a lot to do today. I have to be at the shipyard for the board of directors meeting in thirty minutes and you have to help your Dad get ready to open. Your sister has already had breakfast, now get up!
"Mom?"
"What?"
"Was I asleep?"
"Yes, you were. I've called you six times. How much did you drink at that party?"
I sat up and groaned. Being blind and hungover is not good. Still, if nothing else, I had the dream of dancing in the dark. You can take away my eyes and give me a scarred face that I have to hide behind dark glasses, but you can't take away my dreams.
I got up and headed for the bathroom, doing a little dance step as I moved.