Invisible Life

by E. Lynn Harris

  “Life.” I smiled. “Just life.”

  Kyle quickly became my first openly gay friend. At times the relationship was trying, while at other times Kyle was like a breath of fresh air in a smoke-filled room. He became my mentor in terms of teaching me about the gay world. Sometimes he would look at me in amazement at my naïveté about the gay life. It was completely different from the world I was used to. Different in many aspects, including language. I felt like I was learning a foreign language.

  Everything and everyone was referred to as Miss, Miss Thing this or Miss Thang that. There were often used words like trade, size queen, B-boys, butch queen, read and clocked. These words were often punctuated with a quick finger snap or pop, and almost every gesture was exaggerated. Kyle was a master at all the wiles and ways of the black gay community.

  Most of the time I felt as though I were in a different country, not really fitting in. But by now I didn’t feel a part of the straight world either. My transition to the black gay community reminded me of high school, when I was one of twenty-two blacks in my freshman class of eight hundred forty-three. All my new white classmates were different from the kids at my all-black junior high on the east side. I mean, the way they talked, the things that made them laugh and the things they considered important were totally opposite of what I was used to. Down South, Kyle would definitely have been labeled a sissy. I told him on countless occasions that I would have gone in the opposite direction had I met him in high school or college. He would simply reply, “And I would have read you for filth.”

  “Didn’t the boys you grew up with tease you?” I once asked Kyle.

  “Not after I had worked them,” he replied with confidence.

  With Kyle, I no longer had to keep secrets about my feelings. I could say what was on my mind and not worry about what my girlfriend, fraternity brothers or my parents thought. I could always count on Kyle to make me laugh whenever I had a bad day at school or (once I had finished law school) at the office. Even though I had felt close to Kelvin, we never talked about gay things. It was always school, sports and girls. At first we were just two guys fucking; later, two men who loved each other and who enjoyed a sexual relationship. We played the same head trips with each other that occurred in male-female relationships and sought the same kind of security. Even though Kelvin and I shared a great many secrets, there was no one I could talk to about him.

  My relationship with Kyle wasn’t about sex, but friendship. About removing the guards I had learned to put up to avoid letting people in. Although I had had close male friends all my life, Kyle was the first person who I believed loved me no matter what. With Kyle, I became more comfortable with who I was and whom I had become. I faced my insecurities with a newfound knowledge. Life in the black gay community was not for the weak or the weary. It was not for sissies.

  “Earth to Raymond,” I heard Kyle say.

  “What?”

  “Where are you, mister?”

  “Oh, I was just thinking about something,” I said.

  “I want you to meet someone. This is Rock.”

  “Rock?” I asked.

  I now noticed that Kyle had returned with the guy he had spotted in the club earlier. He was an oatmeal brown-skinned guy in a black leather bomber jacket and skintight jeans that hung suggestively low in the front. He was decent-looking, well built and tall. Definitely Kyle’s type.

  “Is that your real name?” I asked Rock.

  “No, it’s Willis.”

  “How did you get Rock out of that?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I’m sure,” I responded sarcastically.

  Kyle had this stop-being-a-bitch look on his face, so I stopped my questions.

  “What time are we supposed to meet JJ?” Kyle asked, rolling his eyes in silent commentary.

  “At ten o’clock. I told her we would meet at the Popeyes on Seventy-second and Broadway. Is Rock coming with us?”

  “Ask him,” Kyle responded smartly. “He can speak.”

  Before I could get a word out of my mouth, Rock looked strangely at Kyle and then turned to me. “I have to go up to the Bronx and pick up my little girl. It was nice meeting you guys. Kyle, I’ll give you a call before you leave.”

  As Rock walked out the front door, I looked at Kyle and shook my head, trying to register my disapproval.

  “Don’t you say a word, bitch. And yes, I said ‘bitch.’ You know, you’re such a snob.”

  “Who me?”

  “Yes, you.”

  “But Kyle, a baby! Did he ask you for Pamper money?”

  “You know, bitch, you’re not funny. Let’s just get the fuck out of here before we’re late. Besides, I’m starving and I can taste that greasy chicken right now.”

  We buttoned up our coats, got our briefcases from the coat check and headed for the streets beyond the door. The wind was blistering now and the temperature seemed like ten below. A light rain had begun to fall and the sky suggested snow. The street was filled with people going in and out of the different shops, restaurants and apartment buildings that lined Seventy-second Street. Popeyes Famous Fried Chicken was located close to Broadway, right across the street from the subway station. Once we reached Popeyes, we could see JJ already had a spot in the long line.

  “What trouble have you two been into?” JJ asked as she gave us both a big hug.

  “Just the usual,” Kyle said. “Ray’s being a bitch.”

  “No, I’m not,” I said in my defense.

  JJ, or Janelle, was the female member of our trio. Most people would label her a fag hag; most of her close friends were gay men and she hung out in gay bars. She would correct you in a minute if you implied that she might be gay herself, although she had several lesbian friends.

  JJ was attractive in her own way. Her skin was paper-sack brown. She had a narrow face, a small pug nose, thin lips and extremely short well-kept dreads. Janelle wore very little makeup, just a little blush and lip gloss, and dressed with a layered look; probably to hide her child-bearing hips. JJ had dropped out of Sarah Lawrence College during her senior year and was now working as a secretary at the William Morris Agency, so she always had great gossip. I had met JJ shortly after my first term at Columbia. I was at a midtown cabaret, Sweetwaters, enjoying Cissy Houston in concert, realizing where Whitney got her pipes from, when the waitress brought me a drink and said a young lady at the bar had sent it over. After Ms. Houston’s set, I asked the waitress to point the young lady out and I went to the round bar to thank her. After polite conversation JJ suggested that I join her for a nightcap. Three drinks later and a ceaseless flow of laughter was the only thing that separated us. With a long Virginia Slims cigarette in one hand and a brandy in the other, JJ said, “Every man I meet these days wants to get in my pants, Raymond, but to be honest with you, I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to too.”

  I took a long gulp of my drink, took a deep breath and replied, “I’m sure that would be nice, but uh … uh, Janelle, I’m gay or I guess you could say bisexual.”

  “I know that, honey, so is it your place or mine?”

  “So you want to get down with me?” I asked in a deep Southern cadence, obviously sounding very country.

  “Get down?” JJ screamed. “What’s that?”

  “Oh, you know,” I responded, embarrassed but too tipsy to acknowledge it.

  “You mean fuck?” she questioned.

  “Yeah.”

  I couldn’t ever recall having a young lady use the term fuck in conversation with me. But then again, JJ was unlike any young lady I had ever met. Although she wasn’t my type sexually, I became enchanted with her wit and confident demeanor. We did share that one night of lovemaking and it was quite an experience. JJ wasn’t passive like the other ladies I had been with. She took charge in bed, instructing, directing and even placing the condom at the appropriate time. As I separated her thighs and started my approach into her, she stopped my movement and said, “If you can’t eat it, you can�
��t fuck it.” Like people say, you learn something new every day.

  While the evening as a learning experience was quite enjoyable, it never happened again. We never talked about it, nor did we allow it to get in the way of our fast friendship. It was a secret that we kept even from Kyle.

  “So what’s on the agenda tonight, kids?” JJ asked.

  “Let’s go to Keller’s,” Kyle suggested.

  “I want to go uptown to the Cotton Club,” I said.

  “Is it gay night?” JJ quizzed.

  “I think so,” I said.

  “Let’s go to Keller’s. We haven’t been to the Village in a long time,” Kyle repeated, making it quite clear that Keller’s was where he wanted to go.

  “Okay, but let me get some of this barnyard pimp. I’m starving,” I said.

  The three of us ordered chicken and rice and grabbed a nearby table. We talked about the previous week and the upcoming holidays. Kyle would be going home to nearby New Jersey and JJ was going to the Caribbean islands with some mystery guy, or so she said. I had not yet decided whether I was going to make the trip down South. The holidays just didn’t seem to be the same since I finished law school. My mother was begging me to come home, if only for a couple of days. I figured she and Pops would have some new young lady that they wanted me to meet. Or, even worse, they’d drag Sela over, despite the fact that she was practically engaged to a guy she’d met in Mobile.

  I thought about telling them that I was busy with work and maybe I would just fly down Christmas morning and come back the next day. Maybe I was trying to avoid the inevitable conversation with my father about what he viewed as a phase I was going through. New York would be lonely during the holidays despite all the millions of people. Kyle’s mother, Peaches, who was such a sweet lady, was pleading with me to come to Jersey and a couple of associates from the office had invited me skiing. I just didn’t seem to be in the holiday spirit. In spite of having two wonderful friends, I felt lonely.

  “Let’s get a bottle of champagne and celebrate the holidays before we head downtown,” Janelle suggested.

  “That sounds great,” I said.

  “You know, kids, this will be the last time we will be together this year, so let’s send it out with a blast,” Kyle said.

  “What about New Year’s Eve?” I asked.

  “Oh, Ray, I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you. I’ve decided to drive with my mama down to North Carolina to see my grandma. She’s getting old and this may very well be the last holiday season we get to spend together,” he said.

  “Oh shit, now what am I going to do?”

  “Get out your phone book and call some of that trade you know,” Kyle said.

  “Yeah, I’m sure you’ll find someone to keep you warm,” JJ added.

  “I can’t believe you two are going to leave me up here alone. A little ole boy from the South,” I said, trying to look as pitiful as possible.

  “Chile, ain’t nothing little about you,” Kyle laughed.

  “I know that’s right!” JJ declared.

  “Come on, you guys, let’s get this champagne and head for the Village. I’m not even going home to change clothes,” I said.

  We finished our chicken and went into the first liquor store we spotted. Nothing seemed to taste as good as Popeyes fried chicken after a few drinks. We decided to buy a bottle of Korbel. We debated getting something more expensive, but since we were going to drink it out of the bottle, it didn’t make a lot of sense. We kept the chilled bottle in the brown paper sack and took turns drinking it as we walked across Broadway to the subway that would take us directly to Christopher Street a few steps from Keller’s. Once we reached the Village, we were toasted, laughing at almost everything and everyone, trying to sing a soulful version of Donny Hathaway’s “This Christmas.”

  Keller’s was packed; it was smaller than the Nickel and had a huge pool table that took up half of the room. There was also a jukebox, but no DJ. I recognized some of the people I had seen earlier at the Nickel Bar and a few new faces. Keller’s was all black, with the exception of a frighteningly frail white bartender with a red Santa’s hat. The clientele was a little bit different from that of the Nickel Bar due to the large number of hustlers who frequented the place. It was a cruise bar in the true sense of the word.

  “Merry Christmas and what can I get for you?” the bartender asked.

  “Two Stoli’s on the rocks and a white wine. You don’t have champagne, do you?”

  “André’s.”

  “Forget it. Let’s just stick with the first order.”

  Kyle and JJ found a spot in the corner near the men’s restroom—make that the unisex restroom, since it was the only one in the bar. You could not move without brushing up against someone and you could barely hear the jukebox for all the voices speaking at one time. Kyle was showing JJ his new robe and trying to find out whom she was really going to the islands with. Kyle and I had bought JJ a hot pink swimsuit that she just loved, but she was not giving in on telling us whom she was traveling with. Kyle went up to the bar to order another round of drinks while I looked to see how long the line was for the restroom.

  “Don’t order anything else for me, Kyle, I’m already too high,” I said.

  “Oh, come on, just one more.”

  “Okay, but this is it.”

  “What about you, JJ?”

  “Order me a brandy,” she replied.

  I pushed my way toward the restroom line, which included about three people. As I was standing there waiting on my turn, I looked up as a very attractive guy was making his way out of the small, one-stall restroom. He was very tall, with smooth charcoal black skin. He didn’t have a single hair on his face, with nice full lips that surrounded his white teeth. His ears were a little large, but they looked perfect with his full face, large chocolate eyes, slightly pug nose and closely cropped coarse hair. He smiled at me as I looked at him, up and down from head to toe.

  “It’s your turn,” the guy directly behind me said.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “Yes, I see,” the small-framed guy said, laughing.

  I quickly went into the restroom, relieved myself and rushed out into the bar to try to find the vision I had just seen. He would take my mind off the holidays and seeing Kelvin. Before I had the chance to look for him, I heard Kyle call my name. “Ray, over here. I have your drink.”

  When I spotted Kyle and JJ, I noticed that they had now been joined by the guy I cruised coming out of the bathroom.

  “Thanks, Kyle,” I said as I reached for my drink, purposely avoiding the eyes of the group’s new member.

  “Ray, this is Quinn. Quinn Mathis. We just met,” Kyle said.

  “Hello,” I said, now looking straight into his dark eyes.

  “Hello,” he said as he extended his well-manicured hand. “Are those your eyes or contacts?”

  “They were mine the last time I checked.”

  “Well, I’m sure you’ve been told this before, but you have beautiful eyes.”

  “Thank you,” I said with a forced smile.

  As I looked away from Quinn and toward the front door, I noticed a familiar face from earlier in the evening. It was Rock, or Willis. He spotted Kyle and the rest of the group and started to push his way toward us.

  “Well, we meet again,” Rock said.

  “Hello, Rock, or is it Willis now?”

  “Rock,” he said.

  “Excuse me,” Kyle said. “Ray, come here a second.” Kyle pulled me away from the group and whispered in my ear.

  “What do you think of Quinn?” he asked.

  “He’s great-looking.”

  “Yeah, I know that’s right, but I’ve promised Rock that I would spend some time with him.”

  “You’d rather spend time with that, rather than Quinn?” I asked, with my eyes moving from Quinn’s direction to Rock’s.

  “Why don’t you talk to him?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he
’s another one of those confused boys. Look how he’s all up in JJ’s face. Probably because she’s the only female in the place.”

  “Push that bitch out of the way. She’s already got somebody.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, while you’re thinking, I’m getting ready to leave with Rock. Make sure Janelle gets in a cab. You know she’s drunk and no telling what she’ll do.”

  “Okay,” I said as I grabbed Kyle and hugged him. “Merry Christmas and I’ll see you next year.”

  “Yeah, thanks for the robe. Now don’t act a fool. Get over there and get that man,” Kyle said as he hugged me back real tight and motioned to Rock. The two of them headed out the door of Keller’s. I returned to Quinn and JJ, who seemed to be involved in deep conversation. Immediately I felt someone grab my hand. I turned around and realized it was Kyle.

  “I forgot to give you this,” Kyle said as he handed me a small, neatly wrapped box from his briefcase. “Don’t forget to give your parents my best and remember that I love you, bitch.” Before I could say anything, Kyle disappeared again.

  I was standing in the same spot, looking at the door Kyle had just run through, when I noticed the clock above the door had already passed 1:00. I turned and saw JJ and Quinn staring at me. I went back to the corner where they were standing and paid special attention to the nice gray wool suit that Quinn was wearing.

  “So, baby boy, I’ve got to get home. Merry Christmas,” JJ said.

  “How are you getting home?”

  “The subway.”

  “It’s too late for you to be on the subway. Anyhow, you look high.”

  “I’ll be okay.”

  “I don’t care. Take this and take a cab,” I insisted.

  JJ took the ten-dollar bill from my hand, folded it and quickly put it in her bra. She grabbed my neck and gave me a big sloppy kiss on the lips that reeked of alcohol.

  “Merry Christmas, Ray. I think Mr. Macho Man over there likes you. Be safe, use a condom,” she whispered.

  “Merry Christmas, JJ. I’ll see you soon. Be safe.”

  “I will.”

  “Do you want me to hail a taxi?”