You Told Me So

One week. It took one short week to shatter her entire world.

Most things are not binary but exist in degrees. For instance, there was want, desire, ache, obsession, and far above that, the degree to which Ty wished to move to the mainland.

“You what?!”

Ty flipped her short, bleached hair back. “I quit the gym, and I have my ticket to the mainland. I leave tomorrow.”

Lila covered her face in her hands, letting her warm brown hair fall around them. “I know I said I’ll always support your decisions, but I never said I wouldn’t tell you if I thought they were foolish.”

“Mom, stop it. It’s done.”

“Did you save enough for a return trip…in case it doesn’t work out?”

“I have my ticket, and enough money to hold me over until I get settled.”

“Do you have a job lined up?”

“Mother…really. I’m a personal trainer. There’s work anywhere there are gyms, you know, like, everywhere.”

“I really wish you’d given it more time, found a job first.”

Ty moved her mother’s hands away from her face and lifted her chin. “Mom, I’ll be fine. As soon as I get there, I’ll call to let you know I landed safe.”

“I’ll miss you, babygirl.”

“I’m an adult.”

“Yes, you are, but you’re still my baby. No matter what happens, if you need me, you call. I promise I won’t ever say ‘told you so’ about anything.”

#

Although she’d called her mother on landing, she wondered how she would describe the place she was staying. It was the cheapest room available with weekly rather nightly rates, but it was still far too much money for what it was.

She could try to convince her mother that it wasn’t a filthy hovel in a terrible neighborhood, but she’d never been able to successfully lie to her. Might be best to not bring it up, she thought.

Ty did her best to ignore the questionable brown stains on the carpet and wall, even though they looked a bit like dried blood…ketchup maybe, she tried to convince herself. Aside from her clothes, all of them workout wear, she had nothing worth stealing, so she wasn’t concerned about leaving the room to go job hunting.

She took a bus to downtown, where she would find the higher-end gyms. Her workout wear was newish, and very much in style. She carried a folder, weight belt, gloves, exercise bands, water bottle, towel and change of clothes in a small gym bag.

As she approached the first gym, a man in a shiny suit and dark glasses stepped in front of her. “Wow, island girl, you are insanely fit. You looking for that mainland money, baby? I can give you lots.”

Ty raised a fist and flexed; her delts, biceps, and pecs clearly defined. “You’re not my type, and I’m not your baby. Out of my way before I flatten your doughy ass.”

“Ohhh, yes, mistress,” he said, holding out a business card. “Please, mistress, I’ll do anything if you crush me with your thighs.”

Ty feigned vomiting and stepped around him. She noticed that the man at the front desk of the gym had been watching her exchange. That probably ruined my chance for a job here, she thought.

She entered the gym and set her bag by her feet at the counter after removing the folder.

“Looking for a membership?” the young man asked. His name tag said “Bruno” but she thought he looked more like a Colin or Caden.

“Hi. My name’s Ty, and I’m looking for work.” She opened the folder to her credentials and turned it so Bruno could see.

“Personal trainer and professional masseuse, huh?”

“Yes.”

“I hope your interactions with clients are better than with Creeper Carl, out there.”

Ty felt shame redden her cheeks. She took a deep breath and shook it off. “Yeah, I didn’t handle that well at all. It was just so…I’ve not been propositioned quite like that before.”

“Let me guess, he wanted you to crush him with your thighs.”

Ty nodded. “Yeah, but first he called me island girl and baby and tried to offer me mainland money.”

“He’s a major creep, thus the name. Used to work out here until we booted him out and banned him for life.” He leaned forward over the counter. “You looked like you were about to beat the crap out of him, but you controlled yourself better than I could have.”

“He probably would’ve enjoyed it, anyway,” Ty said.

That elicited a laugh from the young man. “I take it you were working as a trainer on the island?”

“Mornings, masseuse in the evenings.”

“If I could, I’d offer you a job,” he said, “but our trainers are hurting for clients as it is.”

“That’s okay,” Ty said, “there’s a lot of gyms.”

“Good luck out there. Nice to meet you, Ty.”

“Thanks, Bruno. Nice meeting you.”

He looked down at the tag on his shirt and chuckled. “The name’s Aiden, but whoever works the desk wears the Bruno tag.”

Ty began working her way out from that gym in an ever-increasing spiral. Every gym, spa, and fitness center said the same thing: Not hiring.

At one of the spas where she’d been turned down, Ty couldn’t help but flirt with the attractive young receptionist. When that flirtation was reciprocated, she gave the woman her number and left with a new bounce in her step. It was an hour later that she realized she hadn’t gotten the woman’s name.

The first week ended with no job, and no remaining gyms, spas or fitness centers she hadn’t checked. She was looking for other jobs, any jobs, when she got a call from an unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Ty. I don’t know if you remember me, but we talked at Lily Spa a few days ago and you gave me your number. I tried to text, but I kept getting an error.”

“Oh, yeah. I had to switch to a voice-only plan to save some money. Hey…uh…I forgot to ask your name.”

“Miri.”

“Hi, Miri.”

“Are you doing anything tomorrow evening? If not, I’d like to take you out for drinks and conversation.”

“Is that what they call it on the mainland?”

Miri laughed. “No, but seriously, I’d like to sit over drinks and talk to you for a while.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Butterfly Bar at nine. See you there.” She hung up before Ty could respond.

The following morning, she went to the front desk to pay for the next week. She’d planned on having enough money for at least a month, then she discovered what room rates and food prices were like. If she spent nothing else, she had enough for two weeks; one payable that day, the other a week later.

She laid out the payment for the next week, and the manager wrote her a receipt. “Any luck on the job hunt?” he asked.

“No. And I’ve checked every gym everywhere.”

“Oh? What do you do?”

“I’m a personal trainer and professional masseuse.”

“Well, it ain’t exactly a gym, but it’s a workout…,” he pointed at the Help Wanted sign on the door.

She read it over. “Housekeeping, huh?”

“Early mornings, until you finish for the day. No clocking in or out, but you got to finish your work.”

She looked at the bottom of the flyer. “That’s all it pays?”

“That’s it. Paid weekly.”

Ty sighed. It would cover her room, and, if she was careful, possibly keep her fed. She’d have to give up her phone, though. “That’s…not really enough to live on, is it?”

The man shrugged. “That’s what it pays. Of course, a pretty, little island girl like you could make a lot more in one night out there.” He pointed out to the street.

Ty knew what the women out there were doing after dark, and she would have none of it. “No. Not happening. Especially not with guys.” She heaved a sigh. “Can I start tomorrow?”

“Sure.” He pushed a form across the desk to her. “Just sign there, and don’t worry about what the night manager says, I’m your boss. He gives you any grief, tell him Al said, ‘Stuff it.’”

“Thanks…Al.”

The Butterfly Bar was on the edge of the neighborhood, straddling the boundary between the gentrified area and the seedy part where her hotel room lay. It was a short walk, but filled with whistles, catcalls, and inebriated men asking, “How much?”

It was quieter than she’d expected in the bar. Booths provided semi-privacy for conversation by low light, while a swinging door at the end led to a dance floor. Except for when the doors opened and the music poured through the bar in a tsunami of aural assault, only the low thump of the bass, more felt than heard, made itself known.

Miri was there waiting for her and motioned her to a booth. Ty sat to find a pitcher of beer and two glasses waiting for her.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Miri said, “but I took the liberty of ordering. If you don’t like beer, that’s fine, I’m sure I can finish it myself, if you promise to stuff me in a cab later.”

“Beer’s fine,” Ty said.

Miri poured her a glass with a practiced hand, resulting in the perfect head without overtopping the glass.

“Looks like you have practice.”

“College,” she said. “Worked as a bartender my freshman and sophomore year, then the spa while I was finishing my undergrad.”

“What’s your major?”

“Exercise Science.”

“Oh! I have an Associates in Massage Therapy, and a Bachelor’s in Kinesiology. I was going to go into physical therapy but fell in love with training.”

The conversation meandered through trivialities for a while, until the second pitcher appeared. “Ty, tell me about the island. What do I need to know to get by there?”

“Uh…it’s not…um…well.” Ty found herself struggling to come up with something coherent to say. “Maybe, if you tell me why, I can figure out what you need to know.”

“You know, basic stuff. What to wear when I show up for work, how to not piss people off unintentionally, where the gay bars are…the basics.”

“The gay…what?”

“Gay bars. You were flirting with me, right? Or did I read that entirely wrong? If so, I am so sorry.”

“I was flirting. I think you’re attractive, and interesting, and I’d like to get to know you better. But…gay bars?”

“Look around,” Miri said, “what do you think this is?”

Taking the time to notice her surroundings for the first time, she realized that most of the couples in the bar were same-sex couples. It was odd to her, since that sort of segregation was not something she was used to.

“Miri,” she said, “this is weird. All the bars on the island are the same. Do you mean that I can’t go to just any bar I want?”

“You can, but it can be dangerous. So, if two guys were making out in one of the bars on the island, what would happen?”

“Someone might tease them, tell them to get a room, but nothing else. Same for any couple doing that in public.”

“Wow! I am so in love with the island…I can’t wait!”

“A—are you moving to the island?”

“Yeah! I got a personal trainer position at a gym close to the beach. It doesn’t pay as much as it would here, but it’s so much cheaper to live there.” Miri stretched with a contented sigh. “And, I can go to any bar, anywhere, and be myself.”

“Wha—what gym?”

“Black Sands Fitness.”

Ty felt her heart drop. The one good thing she thought she’d found, was leaving, and taking—.

“What’s wrong?”

“That’s my old job,” she said, barely above a whisper.

“Well, you’re here to explore the mainland and have an adventure, right? How’s the search?”

“Housekeeping at the Overview. Pays just enough for rent.”

“Hey, hey.” Miri took her hands. “Chin up, island beauty. You’ll find something better.”

Ty didn’t want Miri to see her crying, so she excused herself and instead of going to the washroom walked out the front door. There was no end of men offering to help her “get over it” or ignoring her tears entirely while trying to buy her body.

She stopped in front of her room in the hotel and stared in shock. Did Al do it? The night manager? Someone who saw her going into the Butterfly Bar? Someone who couldn’t spell, anyway. Scrawled in red spray paint on her door in huge, capital letters, were the words “dyke” and “iland lezbain”. The paint was still wet, and she rushed into the room, bolted the door and collapsed in front of it.

Two hours later, Ty held the phone in shaking hands. When her mother answered, she broke down into deep, gut-felt sobs. “Mommy, I’m so sorry. You told me so.”