So I was going through old Live Journal Entries, and I found a copy of the first thing I ever had published. It was Published in the July,  2003 Issue of Queer Voices (A now defunct Lesbian/Bi Women's Lit Zine) I was 15, nearing 16.  I figured there's nothing for me to lose by sharing it, right?

The Fair
by Nicolette Coer

Beth was a slim girl. She danced gracefully, and she had that long, dark hair that shows her to be a pure-bred Celt, not tainted with Saxon blood. Her cheeks were always full of roses, while the rest of her was the color of milk fresh out of the carton.

I was the opposite. Heavy, blond, and skin more the color of old ivory then milk. Mama was a Spainard, Papa was an Englishman, so my blood could never be called "pure". However, I did have one thing in common with Beth. I loved to dance almost as much as she did. 

I frist met Beth at a renfair. It was my frist day working there, and my frist real job. The task manager was in a hurry, and didn't look up to see where I would fit best. He only said "Meria Montez, eh? Er. . . there's an open spot in Mid-East that needs filled. Get your ass over there and have Beth fix you up with some Garb. Fifteen till gates open! Kay! Where is the damn gate key?"

I got out of there as fast as I could. Not knowing where Mid-East was, I followed the sound of hand drums warming up. A few people wearing swords at thier sides raised an eyebrow and waved me to hurry up. 

They were dancing when I got there. about 9 women, mostly shapely things with hips and busts but nearly no waists. One woman did not fit this. She was tiny, a little figurine from a music box that twirls humming a tune of a quite childhood. My eyes followed her as she warmed up. I didn't realized that the music stopped till she stood in front of me.

"Who are you? Ta, never mind, let's get you some garb and I'll tell you the basic routine. Jo, Delay the crowds for about two hours, ni? So, your name is?" 

As we rushed into the tent that served as a dressing room, I spilled my guts. By the time she handed me a green size sixteen dance set, she knew just about every thing about me. How Papa ran off as soon as he found out about me being born, how I grew up all alone with Mama and her cats, about how at twenty years of age, this was my frist job. There was one thing I avoided telling her, about how confused I was at who I was. 

After about an hour and a half of going over routines, Beth pushed me out into the sun. at frist, I stared blankly at the crowd of people gathered about. I was supposed to dance in front of these? But once the music started, my mind drifted into the simple movements of the dance, my body swaying to the music like the sea billowing in a wind storm. My feet danced between the other dancers as we wove the pattern that creates the routine. I didn't stop for four hours, when the music ended. Again, I was faced with those many eyes with nothing to hide me from them. Beth poked me in the back then informed me that I should get back into the tent to change for lunch. 

I found myself dressed in a sari under the canopy of the Boar and Hound eating Italian Ice with Beth not fifteen minutes later. She was going over a few things about what the group in Mid-East did in the afternoon when she paused. "Meria? Are you okay?"

"I-I was. . ." Staring at your neck, wanting to shower it with kisses "thinking about the long drive home this evening. Erie is a ways from Pittsburgh you know."

"Ah, Meria, bunk at my place. It's about fifteen minutes from here if the traffic is good. You can't be making that big a drive every morning and evening; you'll get burnt out, and then your dancing wouldn't be that good. Besides, the rest of Mid-east was going to have a begining of the season meal together after hours, and I thought you could come. even if you don't like Gustoff's fried rice, we can go over the dance routines." She played a bit with the wooden stick they gave you for a spoon. "Besides, I figure that if I'm going to try to provide you a place to stay, I should learn a bit more about you. You have a Boyfriend?"

I shook my head no.

"Ah, you must have a girlfriend then. You're too pretty not to."

"Mama would kill me if a brought a woman home."

She banged her cup down on the table. "So I was right! I knew you weren't straight. Your eyes fallowed me durring practice too much for that. So, when did you know?"

I didn't really know till I saw you. "I, eh, just figured it out recently. I thought that it was odd that I was jealous of my friend Raf when he started dating this one girl, but I just let it go. Um, you aren't going to retract that offer of lodging now, are you?" Her laughs lasted in my ears till the afternoon preformance. 

Another thing I loved about Beth was how she always assumed things. After the rennie season was over, she didn't expect me to leave. In fact, when I started packing my things, she grabbed my hands and asked me why I was packing. Even then, I knew on some level that Beth and I wouldn't last. We were like dark and light, only we weren't equal. Every thing you always tip to her favor. You may think it odd, but nothng physical had happened between us up till that point. But her hands this time didn't stay at my hands. They creeped around me and before I could actually answer her question, the answer had changed.

In my mind, I thought of Mama for maybe two seconds, how she would disapprove of what I was about to do. But I pushed her nagging voice out of the situation and gave into my body. 

That frist time with Beth was like dancing in front of an audience for the first time. My body danced after feeling her touch on my skin, and I forgot everything but the movement and the need to feel Beth's fingers again. After it was over, I found myself looking at the floor lamp next to the bed while I silently counted Hail Marys. Then Beth poked me in the side. Five minutes later, she had me tucked in like a child and herself tucked under my arm like the doll Mama threw out when I was seven. 

Images like this make one wonder why she left me. Beth leaving was another part that could never be seperated from her personality. She had told me the last day of the renfair that she couldn't commit to a thing, that she would rather dance in a park and be free then to hold a real job. I had pushed it aside at the time. 

The day she left, it was raining. I left for coffee at the local cafe, not noticing the boxes that had seemingly packed themselves in the night. Maybe I hadn't wanted to. But when I got home, she was gone. No note, nothing. I found out much later from one of her friends that she had up and gone to England to work with a dance company there for a year, but after that, no one ever knew what happened. Some figured she died, but I knew what really happened. She met some one and stopped running from commitment. The Beth Mclough I knew did die in a sense; I met her daughter Sara Kellingwood yesterday at the fair.

~FIN~