Page 80 of Disco Witches of Fire Island

“I didn’t mean to imply your feelings weren’t valid,” Howie said. “I just meant that no one as young as you should have had to go through that. None of us should. And if you still believe that it’s somehow your fault, that you’re damaged beyond repair, please stop. The Great Goddess Mother loves you, Joe. She loves all of us passionately. You need to trust me on this. I’m not going to tell you it will work out with Fergal. I can’t know that. But you mustn’t control your heart too much or you’ll end up bitter. Just look around.” Howie gestured widely to the room, the island, the world. “So many people who have lists of limits for who is and is not worthy of their love—and they wonder why they are alone. We need to give the Great Goddess Mother the freedom to do her matchmaking work.”

“Her matchmaking work?” Joe said, bitter poison drenching his words. “Is herworkalways forcing me to fall in love with someone who’s dying?”

Howie held his gaze. “We’re all going to die, Joe.”

Joe’s teary eyes squinted into a look of puzzlement. “Is that supposed to help?”

“No,” Howie said. “But it’s true. That’s what makes love possible. While we tell ourselves “forever,” inside we know that our time is limited. That’s why we embrace our lovers so tightly when we first meet them. The goddess wisdom in our bones understands thebrevity of it all. But I also promise you something else, Joe: many of those who have the disease today won’t die from it. I just know it. The greatest of the gods and goddesses are on our side.”

Joe looked up to face Howie. His dark eyes were ready to challenge. “Do you really believe in all that woo-woo stuff?”

“Most of the time.” Howie smiled, using the edge of his caftan to wipe the tears from Joe’s cheeks.

Joe’s eyes shifted as he jerked his head away. “You know, ever since I got here, I’ve heard people say crazy stuff about you and Lenny, that you are …” He hesitated. Howie saw his embarrassment to even say it.

“Witches?” Howie offered.

“Yeah.” Joe rolled his weepy eyes. “Disco Witches, in fact—whatever that means. That you used to perform spells in the clubs—magic and stuff. ”

“They say that, do they?” Howie feigned being aghast, then chuckled.

“Yeah,” Joe said. “It freaked me out. What with you making all that weird potion stuff on the stove, and your reliquaries and charms, and the way you’re always talking about the Great Goddess Mother and auras …”

“I see.” Howie’s face began to feel hot.

“So, are you? Are you and Lenny Disco Witches? Do you cast magic spells? Cause people to fall in love? Did you … did you set a club in Rehoboth Beach on fire?”

Howie sighed and then laughed a small bitter laugh. “Those silly queens just love to talk. Of course we didn’t set anything on fire. That’s arson, not witchcraft.”

“I knew it was stupid.” Joe gritted his teeth guiltily. “I feel like an idiot even bringing it up. But can you just say it out loud? Say, ‘No, Joe, Lenny and I aren’t Disco Witches.’ ”

Howie studied the young man’s face. Was it the right time to tell him?

“Joe, everyone has a power inside themselves—” he began.

“Oh, bullshit!” Joe spat. “Don’t patronize me. Just tell me the truth. I’ve seen how people react around you.” His voice grew softer but insistent. “I told you my secrets. Now you tell me yours.”

41.Confessions, Part 2

“Upon their first Saturn Returns, the chosen one will rise up or fall prey to the Great Darkness. It is the Disco Witches’ responsibility to protect them.”

—Disco Witch Manifesto #122

“So? Are you going to answer me?” Joe asked, scrunching up his thick eyebrows in a way that made Howie think of the phraserolling hills of puzzlement. “Do you, Lenny, and Dory call yourself witches?”

Howie recalled all the friendships and romantic paramours he had lost over the years when he revealed his true nature. Most gay men had no problem with the most lurid or complex sexual fetish, but tell them you follow an offbeat esoteric spiritual practice that enables you to sometimes levitate while wearing six pounds of ostrich feathers on your head and then boogying to Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive” with dozens of other Disco Witches, and within a matter of minutes you’ll hear the screen door slamming behind them. Yet, if Howie wanted to make Joe a true friend, he had no choice.

“Yes, is the simple, unmediated answer.” Howie sighed. “Some of us are, or were, part of a spiritual cooperative—a dance-centered ‘religion’ if you will. Our faith is more like Quakerism or Unitarianism in that we all can believe whatever we like. Individually wefollow a metaphysical hodgepodge of beliefs—paganism, folk witchcraft, Strega, Santeria, and so on. To be quite frank, most of our solo practices were just a bunch of silly superstitions.”

Joe just sat there, expressionless. Howie wasn’t sure if he was even listening, but it didn’t matter. The truth moved at its own velocity, andnowwas its moment. “It was in dancing together that our magic truly catalyzed itself. We experimented, testing various hallucinogenic infusions, both popular and esoteric forms of dance, all set against this or that track of club music. At first it was just a lot of fun, an extra layer to our creativity and dancing. But then one night we noticed little sparks of true magic happening.”

“What kind of sparks?” Joe said, sitting up and hugging his knees. That he spoke at all pleased Howie.

“Oh, nothing that crazy. Altering the flow of electricity to the lights, pepping up the mood of the party, inspiring the DJ to play better music. It was hit or miss at first, but bit by bit our craft matured. Max—who, besides being our best friend, is also our founder and high priest—began compiling a manifesto of our collective wisdom, as well as his private spell book of what worked and what didn’t. One of our greatest triumphs was called the Boogie Down Disco Love Ceremony. We’d use incense and this fabulous twenty-three-song disco diva set—Gloria, Donna, Nena, Nona, all the greats. Suddenly, all the ‘potential lovers’ in a club discovered one another. Of course, spells like that also have their downsides. We used them sparingly.”

Howie paused to see if Joe needed a moment to process, but after a few silent seconds, Joe tossed his head—a demand for Howie to continue.

“After a while we started experimenting more with our dance-floor magic—you know, testing out necromancy, psychic prediction, levitation, that sort of thing. And yes, it’s true, sometimes during our twirling trance dances we were able to even combust matter, but nothing extremely dense—only softer matter like wood and drywall. Setting fires requires intense concentration and an absolutely off-the-charts DJ set.”

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