Flor Fights Back by Joy Michael Ellison

Author:Joy Michael Ellison [Ellison, Joy Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: adventure story; chapter books for girls; diverse author; female hero; historical fiction; own voices author; survival story; trans character; transgender; stonewall inn; LGBTQ; LGBT; gay rights
Publisher: Capstone
Published: 2022-10-12T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

Greenwich Village, New York City

The Stonewall Inn

June 28, 1969

1:20 a.m.

“Stay close to me,” Jackie said into my ear.

My eyes blinked away the shock to my system. I could feel a new current of tension spread throughout the bar.

All the couples that had been standing close to each other were far apart now. Smiles were replaced with wrinkled brows and stiff lips. Many people had turned to someone of the opposite gender, acting like they had been dancing together all along. I wondered if it was illegal to dance with someone of the same gender. I guessed yes.

I caught the gaze of a woman in tight jeans and a black T-shirt. Her brown eyes were worried. I thought of what Tami had told me about what happened to girls like us in prison. I wondered if it was as bad for the lesbians who wore masculine clothes. Judging by the expression on this woman’s face, it must be.

Jackie put a hand on my shoulder. “We have to get out of here. Now.”

I could tell by the tone in her voice that this was serious. She started steering me toward the back of the bar.

I followed Jackie, but I kept looking back over my shoulder to see what the cops were doing. A couple of policemen were ordering people into lines. The cops traced the bodies of the patrons with their eyes.

The way they looked at the drag queens and women like us made me squirm. They checked IDs and ordered some of the patrons to one side. I heard the clink of handcuffs.

The patrons looked like they were scared and angry, but they were clearly used to this procedure. They cooperated until a police officer approached a Black woman. She was tall and wearing white tennis shoes. I thought she might have been Marsha P. Johnson.

“ID,” barked a police officer, not making eye contact.

The woman shook her head slowly. The officer glanced up, confusion on his face.

“I got my civil rights,” said the woman, her voice ringing out like a bell. She reached back like a baseball pitcher and threw a shot glass at a mirror behind the bar. The mirror shattered with a spectacular crashing noise.

When the mirror broke, it was as though a spell had been broken. The patrons of the Stonewall no longer looked meek. Some people began yelling at the police. I heard someone shout “gay power.”

“Flor!” snapped Jackie. “Come on.” Jackie pushed me in front of her and propelled us toward the exit at the back of the bar. I turned my head to look over my shoulder one more time, but all I could see was the fear in Jackie’s face.

We stepped out in the alley. The world outside of the bar felt strange. There was a feeling in the air, an electric energy that made me believe something was about to happen.

Jackie turned toward the front of the Stonewall Inn and began walking back to Christopher Street. Before the street came into view, I could hear the noise of a crowd and see the blue flashing of police-car lights.

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