Page 13 of July Skies
Wasn’t it great when a plan started to come together? Dahlia looked upon the empty café she had reserved for the next hour. Heaven, the barista, told her she didn’t often keep the café open so late on Mondays unless there was a function going on, but when Dahlia promised hermorevisibility in the documentary, well… who was Heaven to tell Dahlia she couldn’t host a small interview roundtable in the café? Bonus points for her ordering a pot of coffee and a small tray of pastries. Even if her interviewees didn’t eat them, the crew could take everything back to Waterlily House and chow down for dessert.
“I would simplyloveit if you could join us for our roundtable about life in this town,” Dahlia said to Heaven’s girlfriend, a young woman in a canary yellowhijab.“You’re exactly the type of person we would love to get some perspective from.”
The woman mounted her hands upon her hips. “Is that so?” she cautiously asked.
“Ah, yes.” Dahlia had to think fast. “You say you moved here less than a year ago? That makes you perfect. We want a panel of recent transplants and people who are from the area.”
Heaven looked up from her scrubbing. “How about that? I grew up here. Yet I don’t recall you askingmefor an interview…”
You’re getting yours later! Haven’t you gotten enough yet?Some people were insatiable when it came to fame. Not that anyone appearing on this film would be famous by any stretch of the definition.
The first invited guest to arrive apologized for being so late. Her bold and striking makeup cued Wayne to rearrange the lighting where Meadow Hobfield sat, since her large hoop earrings reflected the bar of fluorescent lighting flickering overhead. He also had to pull the camera back a little ways to frame her afro. Dahlia side-eyed him as he conspicuously did his work. Meadow merely chuckled. She suddenly didn’t seem to care about being solateanymore. Or maybe that was her realizing that, aside from Heaven’s girlfriend, she was the first one there.
Slowly, more women trickled in, each one lifting their sunglasses upon entering the dimly lit café. They said their hellos to everyone else, especially to Heaven, who perched behind her counter and watched the goings-on as if she were somehow a part of them.Of course she’s a nosy busy-body who has to know everything that’s going on in “her” town. There’s always one.Dahlia kept her back turned to Heaven so she could address her small crew and the women quickly filling up the corner tables. When Heaven’s girlfriend – Salama, was it? – finished with her chores, she took off her café apron and joined the others.
Excellent. Everything was slowly coming together. There was Meadow on the far end, her clothing, makeup, and perfume everything Dahlia conveniently associated with a stylish florist. Frankie Nicolauer from across the street looked like she’d rather be anywhere else, but after a lengthy conversation with Dahlia earlier that day, was convinced to join in on the supposed fun. Padmini Singh, the owner of the highest-rated antique shop in the area, wouldn’t stop looking at her phone until she realized the camera was rolling – that prompted her to put on a large smile and position herself so her “best” side showed.I would argue that this is not her best side.The person sitting on Padmini’s other side was someone who proclaimed herself “the only Asian in town,” which made Padmini roll her eyes. Yet Yi Chen loved to point out that she was actuallybornandraisedin Asia, unlike Padmini, who grew up in Portland.
“I will ask any questions you’ve got.” Her slightly-accented voice dominated the conversation. “I’ve got a green card going back fifteen years. So good at English I’m alibrarian.Do you know how many people in this country try to become librarians and never do it? Meanwhile, I did it!”
Whatever good humor everyone had soon disappeared. When Padmini wasn’t back on her phone or Frankie bothered to glance into the camera, Meadow and Salama were looking like they’d rather be hanging out with their girlfriends.
“We’re only waiting for one last…”
The door slammed open, bell jingling. In bounded a young woman with curly hair to rival Heaven’s and a backpack sliding off her arms. Her baggy sweatshirt did nothing to conceal the generous curves making up her young body. When she saw who else was in attendance, Anem Singer instantly shouted, “The gang’s all here!”
“Oh, no,” Frankie said with a snort. “Bad enough I’ve gotta see her at the store all the damn time.” Meadow agreed with her on that. The only one not side-eyeing Anem as she squeezed in on the far end was Salama, who offered her a small wave and a smile.
Yet Yi was not afraid to say what everyone else was thinking. “You invited the loud one?” Big of her to say when she was stuck right next to Anem. “She’ll never shut the hell up unless you tape her mouth shut. I’m always telling her toshushat the library.”
Anem could have taken offense, but she was more inclined to wrap her arm around the town librarian and say, “You’re always so funny, Ms. Chen!”
“Yes, so funny! Get off me!”
“We’re gonna need more snacks,” Heaven muttered behind Dahlia, before slithering to a back room. “I’mgonna need more snacks.”
“Ladies,” Dahlia said, once Wayne gave her the go-ahead on the camera, “I’d like to personally thank you all for taking time out of your day to come down here and have a roundtable discussion about what it’s like for you living in Paradise Valley.”
Everyone was momentarily quiet – including Anem – as they glanced at the other people at the table. Finally, Frankie spoke, as if on behalf of everyone else there. “You mean what it’s like for a non-white girl to live in a town full of white folk?”
Padmini sputtered on the coffee she had picked up. Salama let out a huge breath, relieved she didn’t have to say it. Yi fell into a fit of cackles loud enough to rouse Heaven from the back room again. The only ones not exploding in reaction were Meadow, who merely pursed her lips, and Anem, who did a double-take of the table and said, “I’m white!”
“Whatever. You’re Jewish. I’m guessing that’s why you’re here,” Frankie said. When Anem to scowled at her, Frankie continued, feigning indifference, “You’ve gathered every non-white, non-Christian or atheist in this town and stuck them in this café. Bold.” She sat back in her seat, arms crossed. “I can’t say if I admire you, or think you’re full of shit.”
Meadow shook her head so furiously that Wayne readjusted the camera one last time. “Nope. Not doing this.” She grabbed her purse and scooted out of her seat. Since she was on the end, it didn’t take much effort for her to escape the table. “I thought this was about people who weren’t from this town. Now I see why you invited me and not my girlfriend.”
Salama furrowed her brows in Dahlia’s direction. “Same. What is this really about?”
“Ladies, ladies.” Dahlia was used to conducting damage control before these roundtables ever began. People were always heated about something. Slighted. Offended. It didn’t bother her as much as it probably bothered them. Good thing she couldn’t care less about offended sensibilities.Wouldn’t be much of a filmmaker if I did.“This isn’t what it looks like. We’re not singling you out because of your ethnicity. I want to get therealstory of what it’s like living here. Paradise Valley purports itself to be a sliver of paradise because of its progressive views on sexuality and gender identity, but it’s still a small Oregonian town, which are historically…”
“We don’t need your researched reminders,” Frankie said. “We know. We knowplenty.Really rich coming from you, lady. Jesus, I shouldn’t be surprised that you duped me into coming here when I could be at home watching the new Avengers movie.”
“Yeah. Bye.” With another disbelieving shake of her head, Meadow strung her purse strap over her shoulder and exited the café. The door shut with finality behind her. Sunglasses were soon back on her face as she marched down the sidewalk, never looking back.
“Hmph. Go figure.” Padmini pushed herself between the two tables that offered her a way out of there. “I’ve got more important stuff to do than rehash the same ol’ crap over and over again. I’m definitely not doing it on camera. You all have a good day.”
“Aw, man, everyone’s leaving?” Yi slumped against the table. Beside her, Frankie grabbed her jacket and laughed with mild amusement. “Not fair. I wanted a good show.”
“You knew what was going on, huh?” Salama asked her.
