Jayleen Galarza
Split

_____At five a.m. on a Friday, most residents of Houston were still enjoying their dreams. Lydia didn't have the luxury to sleep in or enjoy any dreams. She woke up before the sun and was already sipping on coffee at the Seven Eleven. Lydia and her coworkers gathered at the gas station before every shift. She stood there in her neon green jumper with a cup staring at the trucks parked in rows.
_____“Hal, what route are we taking this morning?”
_____“Uh, I think we, uh, took Bill and Roy 's route.
_____“Why? Our usually Friday route is quicker. Plus the neighborhood isn't a disaster. People don't go leaving their garbage laying out and untied.”
_____“Well I told them that we'd take it this morning because Bill ain't to fond about old Mrs. Wilson's dog yappin at him every morning when the truck rolls up.”
_____“Give me a break. Bill needs to suck it up. Its only once a week.”
_____“Yeah. I know.”
_____“Well, I don't care. As long as my shift is done by noon, I don't give a rat's tail. I've got places to be.”
_____Lydia crumbled her cup and tossed it in the garbage can. She lit a cigarette and headed for her truck. Hal trailed behind and was hollering at the other men while strolling to the truck. Lydia hopped in the passenger side. She didn't enjoy driving so early in the morning. There were remnants of crust in the corners of her eyes. Although she had been doing this routinely for two years, Lydia still hadn't adjusted.
_____She rolled down the window and stared vacantly at the buildings that streamed by. The gray sky was now shifting toward lilac. The morning light danced upon the brick walls of businesses and on the rooftops of houses. Lydia sucked in the air before placing her cigarette back on her lips.
_____“Hey, Lydia !”
_____“Huh?”
_____“Snap out of it. Get the garbage.”
_____“Alright. Can't a girl just have a moment? Geez.”
_____The humidity of May was already getting to her. Heat was one thing that she could never really escape. It didn't matter what hour she awoke, Lydia still had to deal with the sweat and stickiness, which caused her hair to cling to her forehead. She brushed her black hair with her fingers and tied it with a hair tie. She grabbed the bags and tossed them into the truck. She hopped onto the back and held onto the bar. The truck stopped every couple of minutes. She'd hop off, toss the garbage, and hop back on. This went on for the remainder of her shift. The scenery would change minimally; they drove from suburbs and into governmental housing. There was always more garbage in the suburbs. This always left a bad taste in Lydia 's mouth.
_____Damn rich people. Don't they know how to conserve?
_____When the shift is finally over, Lydia strips herself of the neon green spacesuit. She doesn't change her clothes even though the smell of rotten food and week old dog droppings is embedded within her t-shirt and jeans. There is only one locker room in the station and since she's the only woman, she'd rather put up with the smell than the catcalls from her coworkers.
_____With her keys in hand and bag over her shoulder, she rushes to her bright blue '86 Ford pick up truck. Her truck was two years younger than her, yet it should've been retired ten years ago. After two attempts at starting the engine, the third time was the charm. Lydia checked her watch and stepped on the gas. She had to be at the bar by two, and her watched already read 1:00. She needed to be on the other side of town, and traffic was unbearable. It seemed like every stoplight was red.
_____“Fuck! I'm not gonna have any time to stop at my apartment at this rate. I'm gonna have to eat at the bar.”
_____She lit a cigarette to calm her nerves. This was the daily routine; she was always hurrying from one place to another. She tried listening to the radio but the only channels that were clear blared some sort of sermon or country music. She didn't want to be preached at or listen to somebody else whining about his or her life. She shut off the radio and just stared out the windshield as she drove.
_____Her eyes glanced over to the tourists walking along Main Street with their cameras around their necks and several colorful bags in their hands. They were all like cut out paper dolls. They wore sunglasses or visors to shade their eyes and wore khaki shorts. They'd litter the streets of Houston gawking at all of the attractions and imitating the accents of local residents, always emphasizing the words y'all or howdy. Lydia just chuckled to herself. She put out her cigarette in the tray, which was spilling over with butts.
_____Traffic was thinning as she rolled beyond Main Street and into the outer limits of Houston . Soon there were no sights of tourists taking pictures and gawking at the architecture. Nothing much to gawk at. Every other building had boarded up windows and some had signs saying For Commercial Lease Only. There were plenty of bars and tattoo shops. Seemed like they went hand in hand. Plenty of people would stumble into a tattoo shop asking for their mother's names engraved on their backs.
_____Lydia was accustomed to this scenery. She had crossed over to other side of Houston all her life. She made her next shift with a little time to spare. As she parked the car near the back entrance, her watch read 1:50. She grabbed her bag and headed for the door. The bar had a back alley entrance, and the name Lilly flickered in neon pink above the door. She walked in, threw her bag under the counter, and sat on a stool. Meg had already started her shift behind the counter, and Dez was working the booths. Plenty of women came in for lunch or just a quick beer.
_____“So how's it looking in here, Meg?”
_____“Hey! Glad you're not late again. You know how Dez is. She hates waiting.”
_____“My shift with the guys took longer today. Man, I didn't even have any time to eat lunch. I'm starved.”
_____“How ‘bout I go to the kitchen and ask Ned to whip up a sandwich or something?”
_____“Its cool. I'm just gonna head back there myself. I need to clock in anyhow. Can you watch my stuff for me?”
_____“Sure thang.”
_____“Thanks, sweetie.”
_____Lilly's was a small but popular establishment. There were two floors. There was a bigger bar upstairs and two pool tables. There was an area set aside for a couple of tables and chairs and a big screen TV in order for people to watch a game or something as they shared a pitcher. Downstairs was Lydia 's domain. There was a smaller bar, a kitchen, a number of booths, and a stage set up for performances. Every Friday and Saturday night there was always a huge audience standing in front of the stage anticipating the next performer. This made Lilly's a household name in the queer community. Drag performers would venture from all parts of Texas to perform on Lilly's stage. This Friday night would be no exception.
_____Lydia threw open the swinging doors to the kitchen and clocked in. The clock was set up next to the owner's office, Lilly. Lydia stuck her head in. Lilly was pounding in numbers on a calculator. As soon as she saw Lydia , she stopped and sat back in her chair.
_____“Hey Lyds! Glad to see you made it on time.”
_____“Yeah. Yeah. Whatcha doin?”
_____“Boss stuff. Working out the shift schedules. Making sure everybody has enough hours.”
_____“Hey I left a note on your door last night asking for Saturday off. I need a day to rejuvenate.”
_____“Yeah I got it. I'm having Dez take your usual shift.”
_____“Cool.”
_____“Hey, are you excited for tonight?”
_____“Umm. My nerves are taking over, but I'm sure I'll cool off later.”
_____“Maybe you should down a couple of shots before you get on stage.”
_____“Nah. I don't want my first experience to be a drunken one.”
_____“Alright. Well go relieve Dez. She's been aching to leave ever since she started her shift.”
_____“Oh, and by the way, love the new buzz cut. Makes you seem more tough, Lilly.”
_____“Stop goofing around and take some orders.”
_____Lydia wandered by Ned before heading back onto the floor. Ned was standing in front of the fryer with headphones on. He was the only man that worked at Lilly's. Not only that but he was the only straight person. Ned was Lilly's nephew and had just recently dropped out of the Armed Forces because he said, “I just couldn't take all of the running.” He didn't have much experience as a cook but Lilly put him the kitchen so he wouldn't “disturb” the customers. In other words, Ned had a fondness for the ladies, especially women who enjoy the company of other women. Lydia tapped on his shoulder as he swayed to the music in his ears. He nearly jumped out of his own skin.
_____“Jesus, Lydia! You scared the crap out of me!”
_____“Aren't you supposed to be working and not dancing?”
_____“Aren't you supposed to be working?”
_____“Oh, shush. Throw some fries in for me. I'm starved.”
_____“What do I look like? You're slave?”
_____“Sure do. Just give them to Meg when they're done.”
_____When Lydia came back to the bar, Dez had already left. The lunch hours had died down, but there were some women at the booths and some at the bar. Meg was stocking up the liquor and ice. She was making trips into the basement and bringing up cases of beer. Lydia grabbed a note pad and headed for the women at the booth. There were six of them squished inside a booth. They were all older and made cheap attempts at flirting. Each one took a shot at Lydia . One of them hollered, “What's a pretty little thing like you doing in a dump like this? You should come over to my place.” One woman, who sported a haircut that reminded Lydia of her own mother's hairdo, offered to buy her a drink. She smiled, brushed off their comments, and took their orders back to Meg. She couldn't afford to be rude.
_____“A round of Bud.” Lydia tossed her notepad on the counter.
_____“Looks like they're celebrating.”
_____“Guess so. Not sure what though.”
_____“I can't wait till the night crowd comes pouring in. Ya know I'm pulling a double shift tonight. Riley called in sick.”
_____“Are you kidding me? Tia better not call off. I'm counting on her to take over ‘cause I have to head back to the dressing room at nine. The show starts at ten, and I need time to calm my nerves.”
_____“There's nothing to be nervous about. I'm sure you'll be fine. The lights will block most of the audience anyway. All you'll see is shadows.”
_____“Yeah I guess. I just hope I remember my moves.”
_____The bottles of beer clanked together on her tray. She dropped off their order and sat down at another booth to take a cigarette break. Things were moving slowly. She watched as Meg went back into the basement for more beer. Friday nights were busy but the evenings moved like molasses. She exhaled and watched the cigarette smoke float toward the ceiling. Her gaze then fixed on the stage. She had wanted to perform for so long. Bring out her alter ego, Diego. This was her stage name that she had created while in high school. She stared at the microphone and thought back to her first time cross-dressing.
_____At seven years old, she scavenged through her older brother's closet. While her mother was in the kitchen and her father at the office, Lydia would put on her brother's pants and shirt. She'd wrap her long hair into a bun and tuck it under a hat. George Michael would be on MTV, and she'd mimic his moves. She'd line her Barbie dolls in a row; they became her audience. She would imagine them fawning over her and screaming her name. These moments only last a few minutes because her mother would be knocking on her door demanding her to turn off the TV. Now, in just a couple of hours, Diego would make his public debut.
_____People started pouring into the bar. The booths were filling up and all the stools at the bar were occupied. Lydia put out her cigarette and made her way from booth to booth. She took their orders and cleaned up the messes that were left by previous customers. She rushed back and forth from the kitchen to the bar to the booths. She'd stop once in a while and lean on Meg's shoulder.
_____“We need to prop that door open. Its too damn hot in here.”
_____The room was filling its capacity and much of the crowd was starting to move upstairs to play pool or find a seat. There was already a crowd in front of the stage. There were always people eager to get the show started. The DJ was setting up and there was already music in the air. Now, the performers were rushing in and hurrying to the dressing room, which was situated behind the stage. Lydia 's hands were shaking as she brought pitchers of beer to her tables. She kept glancing at the stage while she worked. As soon as she saw Tia walk into the bar, Lydia grabbed her bag from under the counter and headed for the dressing room.
_____“I'll be rootin' for ya Lyds!” shouted Meg.
_____The dressing room smelled like a mixture of sweat, hair spray, and cheap cologne. There were queens throwing on wigs and strategically putting on panty hose without ripping them. There were kings taping their chests to create a smooth appearance, and they were brushing on facial hair. Lydia just sat and stared into a mirror; she didn't know where to begin. She saw the line up pinned up on the wall. Diego was the first name on the list. This made her stomach turn, but she took in a deep breath and emptied her bag. She wrapped up her hair and tucked it under a hat. She slipped on her baggy jeans and snapped off her bra. Her chest needed to be covered in order to make her performance believable. One of the other performers helped her bandage her breasts tightly against her chest. Breathing was difficult. She put on a white beater and nervously brushed on facial hair with an eyeliner stick.
_____When she was finished, she smiled at her reflection in the mirror. She stood with her head up and posed a couple of times. Then she walked over to the side of the stage. The crowd was intense and loud. The lights in the bar dimmed and the spot light hit the stage. Sounds of Techno music hushed the crowd and the DJ shouted into the microphone. Lydia 's heart hit her throat as she waited for her introduction.
_____“Lets get this show started! First up is a debut performer. Put your hands together for Diego!”
_____Lydia walked toward the sea of shadows, and transformed into Diego.