Chapter 42 Bella Does Leno #2
“Well,” Matt dispensed with the finger counting.
This next condition would not only help Adam, but would also square Matt’s tab with Laura, the SGA girl whose vegetarian resolution he had promised to support.
Colton had made him break that promise, though, in order to prove his loyalty to him.
“There’s the little issue of cafeteria food.
Adam’s a vegetarian, you know. And the school seems to think vegetarians can subsist on oatmeal for breakfast and iceberg lettuce and tired tomato salad for lunch and dinner.
I think Jesus would want them to do better than that, don’t you? ”
“I’m not sure it even matters what I think,” Garland groused.
Bradley stuck his head through the doorway. “Everything still alright? I just pulled some chicken satay from the oven. Want any?”
“Just a second,” Garland said to Bradley, then looked at Matt. “Those three conditions are it, right? There won’t be a fourth? Or fifth?”
Matt nodded.
Garland brightened. “In that case, Bradley, I hate to put you on the spot, but may I ask a favor?”
“Of course!”
“Matt’s boyfriend, Adam, is a client of mine.
In a couple of weeks, probably at the end of this month, I’m going to need Adam to come to town for a long weekend.
I have a feeling we’ll be wrapping up his case.
I’ll need him to read and sign the agreement, be available for consult about any last-minute issues. ”
“Yay!” said Bradley. “What’s the favor?”
“Can Adam stay with you and Nicholas? Maybe entertain an overnight guest?” Garland winked. “I can’t afford having these boys being spotted at a hotel—or worse, in a public setting—doing filthy, abominable things to each other.”
Bradley broke into a wide smile. “I can do better than that! I’ve been pestering Nicholas to take me to Eureka Springs for a while now, and this will give us the perfect excuse! The boys can housesit while we’re gone.”
The pillowy, L-shaped sofa was as deep as a twin bed and twice as long.
Matt and the rest of the GM snuggled there, jumbled like puppies.
Given the hour, the alcohol quantities already consumed, and the fact that this was a group of intimately acquainted guys who planned to crash there anyway, most had stripped down to their undies.
They were in the basement den at Nicholas’s and Bradley’s house, watching Jay Leno’s opening monologue on a big-screen TV. The “adults” (Nicholas, Bradley, and Garland) sat behind them in recliners.
“Matthew, dahling,” William drawled, “when was the last time you trimmed your toenails? They’re like paring knives!”
“Sssshhh!” said Todd. “I’m trying to listen!”
Matt teased his big toe near William’s scrotum.
William whined. “Matthew! Stop! You might geld me with that talon!”
“Will you two get a room already?” said Evan, who was combing his fingers through Luke’s fine hair.
“No fair! Handshake Rule!”
“Did someone fart?”
“Is it just me, or is Leno’s chin in a separate time zone than the rest of his head?”
“Have another drink, Sue Ellen!”
Robert grabbed the TV remote and cranked up the volume.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” said Leno, “our first guest is new to television. She comes to us all the way from Texas by way of the Oklahoma County jail.”
Polite, confused applause.
“That poor state has had more than its share of bad news lately and I’m not talking about the bombing or tornadoes.
There’s a small college there. You might have heard of it: Midwest Christian University?
Apparently, this place decided that since they can’t compete with Sooner football, they’ll go for the title of ‘Meanest Place on the Planet.’”
“No kidding,” Leno continued. “Remember that whole ‘Team Debbie’ thing where that lady got fired—right before Christmas—just for being divorced?”
Boos from the audience.
“Now that school is in the news again! Have you seen this?” Molly’s photo of Colton and Bella outside Oklahoma City police headquarters flashed on the screen.
Matt remembered. He’d been at Molly’s side while she snapped away, capturing the infamous scene for posterity.
The focal point of the photo was Colton’s Colgate smile juxtaposed against Bella’s outrage.
Then, as the eye took in more detail, the contrast became more jarring. Colton was naked, although the photo stopped at his midriff. He was handcuffed. A blurry cop was behind him, guiding him.
The screaming lady was a man. Her wig was askew. Her dress was torn. She, too, was handcuffed. Her cop was not kind.
And you knew—just knew instinctively—that the angry lady was the victim and the privileged frat boy with perfect teeth and a lantern jaw, the guy being coddled by the cops, was the perpetrator.
“Get this,” Leno said, “the naked guy was the president of the college’s student government!”
Pause.
“If you’re wondering how the guy qualified for his office, remember that this school is trying to be ‘meanest place on the planet.’”
“Rumor has it Saddam Hussein applied to this school and was rejected as being too nice.”
When the laughter subsided, Leno pointed at the picture of Colton and Bella again. “That lady? The one who looks so pissed? That was naked guy’s date! And wait ‘til you hear her story! You’d be pissed, too. She had a worst first date than Macaulay Culkin when he visited Neverland!”
Awkward groans and scattered laughs from the audience.
“Ladies and gentlemen please welcome…. Bella Bottoms!”
The curtain parted. Bella stood there, clutching her purse, blinking wide-eyed like Lucille Ball in the “Vitameatavegamin” commercial, milking the moment.
Talk about juxtaposition! If the audience had been expecting an outrageous drag queen with a big up-do of a wig (Bella’s normal attire), what they saw was Jacqueline Kennedy circa 1960.
Short, bobbed hair. A pillbox hat. Cinch-waisted dress.
Pumps—not 3-inch heels. Still, this version was 6’5” versus the 5’7” original.
Then Bella turned left, walking the wrong way, wobbling like a little girl in her mother’s shoes. It was classic and endearing.
The audience hooted and clapped.
Leno gave a dog whistle and motioned her towards his desk.
Bella took a seat, crossed her legs primly, and carefully removed her white gloves.
She smiled genteelly. “I think your audience is a little disappointed, Jay. You said Oklahoma, and they were probably expecting Shawntel Smith. You know, Miss America. She’s from Oklahoma.”
“Is that true?” Leno asked the audience. “Are you disappointed?”
Loud clapping and cheering. Someone in the crowd yelled “Bella! Bella!”
Leno waited for the applause to die down. Gave Bella his signature half-smirk. “Satisfied?”
Bella stroked the pearl necklace that graced her neck. “Why do men always want to know that? I mean, if you have to ask—”
It would have been a funny enough laugh-line if uttered by a run-of-the-mill drag queen, but coming from the mouth of America’s stoic widow, the effect was amplified.
The camera cut to an audience shot, zeroed in on a woman elbowing her husband—his looking mortified, her guffawing.
The joke ricocheted around the room, moving from one red-faced, belly-fat husband to the next, their wives high-fiving each other in solidarity.
Leno leaned forward, straightened his tie. “Can I ask you about what happened that night? March 22nd?”
“It all started when I left my hotel and went for a stroll…”
Bella stopped mid-sentence, looked down at her boobs, and frowned. Pushed the left one up a bit. Craned her head, assessing her handiwork.
“You went for a walk?” Leno prompted.
“Stroll. One walks to the powder room, strolls outdoors. So, there I was, strolling, and there was this young man sitting in his car. We chatted. He asked if I wanted to see his—”
Leno reached out to cover the microphone on his desk.
“—Grandma’s farm,” Bella finished. She reached into her bag, retrieved her compact, and tried angling its little mirror to see her chest.
“That didn’t seem odd to you?” Leno asked. “The farm bit?”
“I work in gay bars, honey. I’ve heard stranger things than that.” Bella put the compact away. “Say, Jay, you don’t happen to have any duct tape in that desk, do you? I think I’m having a wardrobe issue. Too much ballast on the left.”
Leno shook his head. “Fresh out. Madonna was a guest last night. She had the same problem.”
“Her right one? Maybe we could get together, swap out, and each end up with a matching pair.”
“I’ll give you her number,” Leno quipped. Then, “So, you got in the young man’s car, and he drove you out to grannie’s farm…”
Bella gestured wildly. “There was no grannie! No farmhouse either! Still, I hoped the young man would unhook his—”
Leno covered the desk microphone again.
“—barn door and let me pet his—”
“Parakeet?” Leno offered.
“Heavens no! This was a first date, after all!”
Leno tried again. “Is it fair to say that things went south?”
“In my experience, where men are concerned, things always go south sooner or later.”
The audience erupted into cheers and clapping.
“We’re talking seriously south,” Leno said. “The young man was arrested for attempted rape, right? Rape is not a joking matter.”
“No one’s joking about rape,” Bella said firmly. “That young man, whose name I won’t mention, has done some awful things. He needs to pay for his misdeeds, no doubt about it. But he’s the least of the problem.”
“The least?” Leno asked.
“That boy is 22, obviously immature, can’t hold his liquor, so deeply closeted I’m not sure he knows what year it is.
What about the 46-year-old cop who ignored the 9-1-1 caller who had reported a rape?
That cop showed up on the scene, took one look at me, and started swinging!
Then he handcuffed me and later kneed me in the—”
“Lady parts?” Lenno offered.
“I would have said ‘balls.’ I mean, c’mon, who are we kidding?”
Bella continued. “Don’t forget that college, Jay. That place is a HATE factory! They told that young man that God loathes him. They rewarded that boy for ratting out other gays. How sick is that?”
Lenno looked pensive. “I see your point. Unfortunately, that young man is the only one facing trial.”
Bella sighed. “I haven’t decided whether to testify against the boy or not. It’s a tough decision.”
“At least some good came out of the whole affair,” Leno said. “No more working gay bars for you! You’re currently doing a nightly show off-Broadway. The Pembroke Theatre! Sold out every night! I hear you even sing and dance!”
Applause.
“And after that, you’re going on a 16-city tour...”
Bella smiled. “Enough about me! You’re making me blush. Now, didn’t I see Richard Gere backstage? Get him out here! I wouldn’t mind seeing his—”
“Parakeet?” Leno said. “So would most of my audience!”