"24/7" DINER

I arrived at the hotel last night. I hated arriving Monday mornings. Awaking much too early to drive from my last gig, rushing to make the dancer meeting by 11, and the first showtime was often at noon! Dance CD’s and stage props everywhere, costumes and toiletries strewn all over the bed, suitcases exploding in every corner. No thanks. Better to spend my day off driving and arrive with time to settle in.

After my last show of the day, I enter my room with a grateful sigh. I dump my stage bag and blanket on the bed, as well as a rumpled up naughty nun costume and about a hundred dollars in tips. I smile. Not bad for the 7 o’clock show on a Monday night in a small hick town! I slip out of my sexy nun underthings; I’m still wearing them because in backwoods hyper-religious Saskatchewan there's a law against full nudity in a licensed establishment. So they bring in strippers that are forbidden to strip. Crazy. My nun show is a crowd-pleaser, possibly because of the blatant disregard for the Catholic church’s sexually repressive dogma. I think the true blasphemy is in saying that Woman’s God-given sensuality is sinful and to be feared and shamed. I step into a pair of thin cotton shorts and pull a light tank top over my tanned torso thinking “This little town certainly has a unique vibe” My workday behind me I plan to head across the highway to the all-night-diner the manager recommended in the meeting this morning. “I don’t eat out in this town, except at Deborah’s 24/7 Diner.” she declared “The food really can’t be beaten.”

As I step out of the dark hotel the sun blinds me momentarily, and my eyes squint instinctively. I'm caught off guard, and in concert, light silvery notes float towards me. The tones hang momentarily in the air, then drop. I feel shivers rise up my spine despite the pounding heat and all the hairs on my arms come to life. With sunspots dancing before my eyes I see a ragged, bony man playing the flute. The open case in front of him is filled with fives, tens, and twenties. No coins. I realize with shock that he’s playing what appears to be a 14k gold Brannan. For those in the know, this instrument is worth at least fifty thousand. Disbelief sets in as I consider the oddity of a homeless man playing a priceless ornate flute outside a strip club in small-town Saskatchewan. I struggle to find my voice. “Beautiful,” I mumble, suddenly self-conscious. “just exquisite.” My words feel inadequate. I reach clumsily into my purse and pull out a twenty, dropping it in his case. He stops playing for a moment, and in a deep voice that reactivates my tingling spine says “As are you, my Goddess, as are you. Pan thanks you. Pan thanks you.” Regaining my composure I walk across the parking lot and head to the highway. There’s a heatwave in the south of Saskatchewan and as my feet hit the road, I feel the heat rising off the pavement, filling my nostrils with the pungent odour of hot tar.

I step into the diner and immediately feel a wave of relief as the air conditioner greets me, cooling my blazing skin. The hostess has ivory skin, with long flowing red hair and sparkling green eyes. She greets me in a singsongy “Welcome to Deborah’s Diner, table for one?” I glance around the tiny diner, ten tables all told. My eyes land on Oshun, another dancer in this week’s line-up. I’d worked with her several times over the years and she was one of the few dancers I’d cultivated a friendship with outside of work. She was an ebony beauty who had chosen her name as a tribute to her favourite Goddess, the Goddess of all the arts, but particularly dance. She even wore a belt with a tiny mirror attached, as did her namesake. She was known to hold that mirror up to men in the bar, and sometimes other dancers, showing them when they were projecting their crap onto others and needed to take a good long look at themselves. It didn’t always go over well.

She waved excitedly to me. “Over here, over here! Come sit with us Shekinah!” The blonde man next to her smiled warmly, amused by her obvious exuberance. The hostess gave a little laugh, glancing over her shoulder as she led the way “I guess you’ll be sitting over here with your friends.” I followed her, happy to join my friend and her new acquaintance. As I slid in next to Oshun she said to the waitress “Lilith, meet my girl Shekinah, she’s the healer I spoke of earlier today, remember?” I blushed a little, I was always embarrassed when people praised me for my healing abilities. I didn’t believe in myself half as much as the people I worked with did. Lilith placed her hand lightly on my shoulder and energy flowed through my entire being. I felt her strength instantly. This was a powerful woman. My heart skipped a beat and I had the peculiar thought “She will protect me with her life” She gave a little squeeze and said, “So nice to meet you Shekinah, I’m sure we’ll all get to spend some quality time together this week." She gave me a wink. “I’m told your name symbolizes the mind at peace. Did you know our lovely Axel here also has a name emblematic of peace?” She gestures toward the man sitting next to Oshun. I had signed a poster for him earlier and he had mentioned knowing my name was equated with the feminine aspect of God. I was astonished as only twice in ten years had I met someone who knew the origins of my name. Oshun had been one of them. The man concurred in a delightful Swedish accent “Yes, it’s true. I was born in Sweden, August 15th, 1964, the very day Sweden celebrated 150 years of peace. Axel means ‘my father is peace’. We moved here when I was five.” His light blue eyes pierced through the windows of my soul and I felt completely naked and exposed. And safe. This was a man who could truly see a woman.

A bell tinkled as the diner door opened and Lilith said: “I’ll give you a moment to decide what you want, ok Hun?” She spins on her heels, tossing a “so nice to meet you” over her shoulder as she goes to greet the new guests. I glance around the room taking in the other diners. Two cops sit looking bored and drinking coffee; killing time on a slow crime night. A mother and father with two kids, a boy and a girl. In the far corner a Father. What? An actual Father! I jolt slightly, flashing back to my stage show just 20 minutes earlier… I feel quite strange looking at the priest and when he looks back at me, my eyes quickly drop to the table. Lilith passes our table at a brisk pace. Following her is Pan carrying his flute case. He is accompanied by the escort who lives in our hotel. High heels clicking, short pink skirt fluttering around her thighs. She wears a high-necked white blouse. Her hair worn in a high chignon completes the look. Lilith seats them at a table across from the priest. The priest thunders loudly “NO! They are not sitting near me! You know better Lilith.” The priest glares at Lilith, his white collar tightening as the veins pump fiercely in his neck. “You’re all sinners and whores!” he roars. He turns his head and his eyes bore right into mine. I feel a chill and my skin crawls.

Lilith stares back at the priest defiantly. “Aeron, you know better than trying to rule the diner. This is Deborah’s Diner. We don’t submit to any man, especially a priest.” Axel nudged me gently. He speaks softly, explaining to us, “I grew up with these four. Aeron lives up to his name always seeking war and carnage. He purports to fight for God but gets off on shaming others and self-righteousness. He often locks horns with the owner of this diner. She’s a retired judge named after the only female judge in the bible. She lives up to her name as well. Devoted to good, to God. People take names seriously around here.

“Really?” It dawns on Oshun something deeper is going down. “Axel, what is that women’s name, what does it mean? Tell us now!”

“It’s Kali-” he began.

“Kali!” We both whisper in unison, cutting him off. Our eyes grow large. Axel doesn’t bother to complete his sentence. No further definition needed. We know who Kali is.

The sun swiftly disappears from the sky. The diner falls dark save a glow coming from the kitchen. Lightning flashes, illuminating the scene with Father Aeron, Lilith, Pan, and Kali. I grasp that something momentous and not simply symbolic is happening. Thunder shakes the diner, so close it seems to originate from within. Unbelievably the priest pulls out a sword. He rushes towards the pair. The little girl screams. This is a war. The cops sit there stunned, frozen. They signed up for small-town cop duties, not… this.

Lilith. The Original Lilith. Adam’s first wife who refused to submit to him and was thrown out of Eden. Enraged that women’s life-affirming sexuality has been sullied and made sinful by fearful controlling men, she is the ultimate angry feminist.

As Aeron grabs for Pan, Kali leaps to her feet and Lilith inserts herself between the priest and Pan. I also jump to my feet, but Axel grabs my wrist, stopping me. “No,” he said “that’s not your role. Remember your name. We are Masters of Peace. They are Defenders and Protectors of the Innocent.” He nods his head towards Lilith and Kali, now brandishing their own swords. I understand. We must meditate, conjure up peace. Pan has grabbed his flute and floated over to us without being seen or heard.

“Pan thanks you. Pan creates. Pan virile.”

He opens his flute case, reverently lifting the instrument and gazing at it lovingly.

“Sex make music. Sex make dance. Sex make peace”

He gestures towards Oshun.

"You Dance Goddess, you dance now, Pan thanks you”

He touches his fingers lightly to the crown of my head.

“You Peace Goddess, you peace now, Pan thanks you.”

He looks towards Axel, and Axel bows low before him.

“You Peace God, you peace now, Pan thanks you.”

Axel and I join hands closing our eyes, and begin to breathe together slowly, deeply, in harmony. Pan begins to fill the air with sweet melodies, reminiscent of fertile green fields in springtime. Oshun begins to dance. And behind us, thunder roars, lightning flashes and war rages. “Do not think that I came to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace but a sword. Matthew 10:34” shrieks the priest, sounding like a madman. Axel and I respond by chanting ever so slowly, “My---Fa---ther---is---Peace. My---Fa---ther---is---Peace.” Oshun’s hips sway gently and Pan’s flute fills the room with magic and wonder. The energy gets higher and I feel peace amid chaos. I feel no fear. “My---Fa---ther---is---Peace.”

The bell tinkles loudly above the door, which crashes into the wall behind it. A tiny woman, grey hair in a bun, looking just like my grandma or yours, explodes into the room. Her yellow sundress stands in stark contrast to the shotgun she holds steadily. The little girl chirps brightly “The Judge is here! The Judge is here!”

The Headline the next day reads “Local Priest Dead following Judgement Day” Turns out Lilith was right. We did all get to spend some quality time together this week.