Book Reading, "My Almost Certainly Real Imaginary Jesus", Kelly Barth, June L. Mazer Lesbian Archives, 2012/09/16
[caption: Kelly Barth reads from her book My Almost Certainly Real Imaginary Jesus]
[caption: At the June L. Mazer Lesbian Archives in West Hollywood September 16, 2012]
Barth: Mary Ellen had chipping red fingernail polish, dark eyes, and smelled like a combination of Bonne Bell lip gloss and a cigarette falling apart from the bottom of her suede purse. I knew how Mary Ellen smelled and how her skin felt because once after class, she and I were the last two people left roaming the halls of the dark church, playing sardines, the youth group version of hide-and-seek. The rules said that as each person found those hiding they crawled into the hiding place with them. Eventually, only a few stragglers remained, wandering the tiled hallways alone with only the occasional light through the church’s stern 16-pane windows to guide them. You didn’t want to be the last one left. You could not end sardines by calling out, “I quit!” You had to keep looking until you found everyone waiting somewhere in the dark for you. Mary Ellen and I found each other by the half door to the crawlspace in the wall of the Fellowship Hall where they stored folding tables between church suppers, a favorite hiding place because it could hold so many people. She touched my sleeve and I swatted her hand in the dark like you would at a Junebug trying to hang on.
“Shit! Sorry, oh my God,” she said, “Who is this?” I did not need to ask her. “Thank God it’s you,” she said.
“Have you seen anybody else?”
“Not for a long time,” she said, whimpering a little.
“Shh,” I said, taking charge. We stood still, Mary Ellen squeezing my arm.
“That’s it, they’ve all found each other,” she said. Another rule said you couldn’t pair off to search and unfairly minimize the shock and fear when you heard the collective rustling of clothing in the dark rising to greet you.
“I’m not letting go of your arm,” Mary Ellen said, “rule or no rule.” She pulled me into the crawlspace. “Are we sure they aren’t in here?” We both felt into the darkness, touching spiderwebs, exposed cement blocks, the bowels of the church. On what felt like a tablecloth–tabletop, I touched what I hoped was jelly. Aside from each other’s, we felt no clothing or skin.
“They aren’t here,” she said. She sat and pulled me down next to her. She put her fingers between mine. “Whatever happens, don’t let go of me,” she said.
“I won’t.” For different reasons, neither of us wanted to start seeking again.
“I refuse to keep looking,” Mary Ellen said, “I’ve had a hard day. When we find them, I’ll have a heart attack. You won’t leave me will you?”
“I wouldn’t leave you,” I said and then I added, “I’m not going out there alone,” so she wouldn’t know how much I longed to stay there in the crawlspace with her. We hid like that for what seemed like half an hour. For a while, she nervously rubbed her thumb back and forth over my hand. I tried to count the number of times just to keep myself from touching her back. If I had, she would have known I hadn't done so out of fear. When Mary Ellen felt good and ready, we found the others in the chancel area under the massive church organ. One of the boys lay camouflaged across its pedals in a black and white rugby shirt. Before someone turned on the lights, Mary Ellen squeezed my hand one last time and then turned it loose.
[caption: Special thanks to Kelly Barth http://kellybarth.com/ & Eloise Klein Healy http://www.eloisekleinhealy.com/]
[caption: For more information or to make a donation Go to www.mazerlesbianarchives.org The Mazer Archives Where Lesbians Live Forever]
[END OF VIDEO]
Kelly Barth reads from her book My Almost Certainly Real Imaginary Jesus at the June l Mazer Lesbian Archives event.
Interviewee: Kelly Barth
Interviewer: None
Transcriber: Renusha I.
Transcriber: Kailee S.
Formatter: Serena R.
Recording Date: September 16, 2012
Release Date: September 17, 2012
Location: June L. Mazer Lesbian Archives in West Hollywood, California
Interview Length: 00:03:22