Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Redemption

...is rise above the occasion.

Shandelier glanced about the room. All eyes were upon her: the table of dumpy faghags and a few queeny friends in for their regular catch-up; a large fortieth birthday party for a rather unsuccessful drag queen; a group of early twenties inner-city types who thought they were hip to be sqaure and then of course Mausie, Morty and the ruggedly handsome Saul. It was Saturday night the place was packed to the gaudily decorated rafters.

It had been a long time since Shandelier performed and although she'd been an adequate showgirl she was never in the league of Iva Biggun. Carmene had always been the biggest star in Melbourne but when she'd decided on management instead of any more surgery Iva had really come into her own. Shandelier had been a reliable third or fourth billing but she was savvy and she figured it wasn't long before she could sell The Sassy Palms and retire disgracefully. That was as long as the blackmailer backed off and she found out whatever it was she was being blackmailed about. And how dare the blackmailer call her underpants cheap! The red lace g-string had been USD$50 on its own, plus delivery from the US.

She'd come a long way from Boiling Springs, South Carolina: a confused girly-boy with nowhere to go - to the owner of a successful cabaret venue on the other side of the world. OK, Abbotsford was no Paris but it sure as hell was a few rungs up the ladder from Boiling Springs. Just then Franklyn, the witty and ridiculously handsome technical assistant (if you liked that Brad Pitt + 10 years - 5 inches look) knocked a switch and the spotlight's glare became brighter. Staring into the white light Shandelier felt something stir inside her she hadn't felt for years, something that felt sort of special. The crowd moved uncomfortably in their seats, waiting for something to happen, Iva was just about to grab back the microphone and let fly with a bit of June Carteresque quick talking sass when Shandelier opened her mouth and started singing.

Abbotsford didn't know what hit it when Shandelier found herself transported back to Boiling Springs, the front pew of the church, the star of the choir - her beautiful voice (a touch disconcerting with its fine baritone) found itself again and she let rip with 'Leave it There' in the style of Clara Ward. Franklyn dropped the lights back to a soft single spotlight and the crowd sat in awe. When she finished the place erupted, everyone rose, they applauded and screamed, Iva was uncharacteristically overwhelmed and everyone in that room knew they'd been present for a unique and amazing episode.

Shandelier clutched the microphone, "Thank you everyone. Thank you Jesus. I'm glad Iva brought me up here I have an announcement to make..."

1 comment:

Martin Turnbull said...

"...with a bit of June Carteresque quick talking sass" - LOL'd on that one. Perfect!