by Pope, M. T.
“Look Ma!” My tone was stern. “I don’t want to do this.”
“What do you mean this?”
“The arguing that we do every time that you call me.” I sighed. “I have enough stress as it is.”
“Your stress is because you don’t want to be upfront with yourself. You don’t know how to forgive others as well. Especially, family.” She confirmed what I already knew. “I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am for the way things turned out. What more do you want from me? What more?” I could hear the pain in her voice.
“Sorry, Ma. I’m sorry.” I broke down and started to sob. “You’re right.”
“Mama knows that already.” She spoke assuredly. “I didn’t do everything right, but I did get some stuff right. I know it because you are successful and you made me proud.” I needed to hear those words. She never said she was proud of me.
“Baby, how’s your husband doing?” she spoke sarcastically, casting my mood downward again.
“He’s a very happy man. Very happy indeed.”
“Umm ... I bet.” Another sarcastic remark flew out of her mouth. “So when am I going to meet him? You know, face-to-face?”
“Soon, Mama. Soon.”
“Don’t you think it’s been long enough. What are you ashamed of?” she asked.
“I am ashamed of nothing.” I lied to her and myself. “He’s a very busy man. His free time is limited.”
“So we are still playing Russian roulette, huh?” She laughed. “Baby, remember as a child, you were never good at playing games. Remember life is not a game and it plays for keeps.”
“Don’t I know it.” I spoke lightly, more to her than me.
“I was just calling to check in on you, my child.” She was now speaking sweetly. “And your secrets ... Talk to you soon.”
“Okay, Ma.” I hung up the phone. My mind was racing a mile a minute. She acted like all of this is my fault when she knows she had a hand in it. I loved my mother like a child should love their mother. I paid her bills and all, but I also have some great resentment toward her. I just didn’t know how to deal with it.
I went back upstairs and climbed back into bed and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
Chapter 3
David
A Real Man
April 1st 9:30 P.M.
“Ahh,” I moaned softly as I came on my stomach. I slouched back in my chair and breathed heavily again, exhausted because this was the second time I had jerked off within the half hour that I had been in here. I watched my would-be liquid children die on my chest as they dried up.
“What a waste.” I pulled a couple of Kleenex from off of my desk and cleaned myself off.
My wife thought I was in here working, but that was not the case. It almost never was. I came in my office to relieve myself in privacy. What she didn’t know was that I had an addiction to porn.
For most of our marriage I have had this addiction. Most people didn’t know that Grace and I were not the perfect couple as we portrayed. She was very adamant about not wanting children. She never gave me a reason why, but she always made me wear a condom when we had sex and she insisted on being on birth control. I was fucked up mentally by this. Her rejection hurt me to the core. It almost felt as if I was not man enough to give her a child. A man almost always wanted to have a prince or princess to carry on his bloodline, but it was out of the question with her. She was unrelenting.
I figured wasting my seed in her or on me was all the same, so I masturbated to porn in private. I know you are saying, “So what!”, because having an addiction to porn was not foreign to a married man. It’s not right, but it wasn’t foreign. The thing is that I was watching man-on-man porn. My wife’s rejection and me being tampered with by my father—well, not him per se—but both were catalysts to my weight gain and me now wanting to experiment with men. But what man would want me at my age? The extra weight that I carried was not in the plus column either. I mean, I was a good-looking brother at my age and I knew I could still turn a few heads. My wife’s recognition of my weight flooded back in my head and the urge to squeeze off another nut began to weigh heavily on me again. I changed my mind, because with the combination of the amount of food I ate and the two nuts I busted earlier, I would be like a walking zombie at work tomorrow. I needed to quit while I was ahead. I got up out of my chair and made my way upstairs toward my bathroom and got in the shower.
I eased into bed next to my snoring wife. She was so pretty when she slept.
“We would have had some beautiful children,” I whispered to myself as I gently rubbed her cheek. “What was wrong with me that you didn’t want to have children with me?” I rolled over with my back to her. I wondered if she could tell that I wasn’t the man that I pretended to be. Could she see through the mask that I put on since the day I met her? I wonder if she married me because she felt sorry for me. I wasn’t man enough for her and she knew it, but she married me anyway! Now my shit was coming apart at the seams. My secrets were threatening to spill out and expose who I really was.
I drifted off to when I was back in middle school. I was a very shy little boy and I was not one to be the center of attention. I did my work in class and played football during recess like any other normal little boy at my age. I was twelve and full of energy and secrets. One day in particular my mother had dressed me in my school uniform, blue khakis and a powder blue button-up shirt. I had to admit I felt pretty good that morning as I sat at the table eating my cereal and toast. My oldest brother Wallace had on jeans and a regular shirt, because he just started high school and they didn’t have to wear uniforms. My younger brother, Robert was in his last year of elementary so he too was dressed in regular clothes.
As usual my dad said he would be taking me to school since I was the closest to his job, but today it was as if he was rushing more so then usual. He took turns between Robert and me, because his school was in close proximity to my father’s office as well. My father was a psychologist and he had his own practice. He would usually take me straight to school without detouring, but this day was different. This particular day we stopped by his office.
On his way to his office he kept complimenting on how well I looked in my uniform and how I looked like a “real man” today. He used that term so much when I grew up. I poked my chest out real proud-like, because I loved my dad and his approval. My dad was my idol. He was everything a “real man” was supposed to be. I wanted to be just like him. Now that I think back, I was really foolish. Anyway, we pulled up to his office and that is when my life changed.
“Come inside with your old man for a second,” he said, rubbing my head before unbuckling his seat belt and getting out of the car. “I want to show you something in my office.” I was excited, because my dad rarely let any of us come to his office. He was very adamant about separating home and work. He almost never talked about what he did at work when he was home.
I followed behind my dad and admired the way he was dressed too. He was such a well-put-together man. We walked into his office and everything in his office was immaculate. He had the basic stretched-out leather chair that you see patients laid out on television stretched out on, divulging their innermost secrets and pain.
“Hey son, sit right on that chair right there,” he said, disappearing into some closet in the back of his office. After a couple of minutes of waiting, there was a knock at the door.
“Come in.” My father peeked out of the room he was in and spoke slightly louder than in his regular pitch. A slender man walked in, shut the door, and stood in the middle of the floor. He had these beady eyes that looked at me like he was looking through me. My eyes darted from him to the floor as I fumbled with my book bag, hoping that my dad would hurry up. This guy was freaking me out. A couple seconds later, my dad walked out of the room he was in with a towel in his hands.
“How are you doing today?“ My father walked up to the man and hugged him for a couple seconds too long. He rubbed the guy�
�s back and his hand moved down to his buttocks and squeezed it hard. By this time, I was freaking out on the inside because I had never seen two men hug in this fashion, especially my father. I had never seen my father behave in such a manner, even with my mother. They both backed up and my father’s eyes shifted toward me. I, in turn, looked at the floor. I didn’t know what to do. My eyes watered up and I wanted to run and get the hell out of there. I knew something wasn’t right, but I couldn’t move.
“Son, won’t you to say hi to John,” he said, reaching out his hand as to say come here. I walked toward the two men, legs trembling as I walked. “Come on son, he won’t hurt you.”
For the first time in my life I looked at my father with uncertainty. What is wrong with him? I looked up into his eyes, which were glazed with happiness, and wondered.
The guy hugged me as I made my way up to him. It felt uncomfortable, so I quickly pulled out and backward a little.
“Son, don’t worry, he won’t hurt you. He’s a very good friend of mine.”
I looked at him and then the guy. “O—okay.” My mind was racing and at the tender age of twelve I was confused.
“I’m ready,” my father said to the guy as he rubbed the guy’s bicep and squeezed it. The man walked over to the leather couch and began undressing from the waist down. By this time, my stomach was rumbling and my legs were shaking a little harder. I backed up toward the wall a couple of feet from the front door. My dad was still in the middle of the room watching the guy slowly take off his socks. I knew this because I was watching too, but I was terrified. My father, on the other hand, was like he was in another world altogether. There was even saliva running down the side of his mouth.
“Dad, I want to go ... now!” I was easing my way toward the door.
“A couple ... more ... min ...” His voice trailed off as if he was answering my question and taking in the sight of the man who was now bent over and playing in between his buttocks. I looked at the clock and noticed only ten minutes had gone by, but it seemed like an hour. He walked over to the couch, bent down, and stuck his face in between the guy’s buttocks and started licking like a dog at a water bowl. Tears were running down my face and I began to sob as the guy began to moan “oh, yeahs.” My father started going crazy: biting the guy’s buttocks, smacking it and sticking his finger in his buttocks.
“Dad!” I yelled. His head snapped around like he was possessed and I was wrong for calling him. “I’m going to be late for school.” I lowered my tone. I wasn’t that in love with school, I just wanted to get the hell out of his office as soon as possible. He got up from in behind the guy and walked over to me. I looked away, because I didn’t want to look at him.
“Son.” Both of his hands were on my shoulders and he crouched down to be on my level. “You’re a real man, right?” I nodded my head, looking at the floor.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” his stern voice penetrated me. I almost had to force myself to look at him. I was ashamed and confused at the same time. “Do you love me?”
I nodded my head yes. I did; I idolized him. Whatever he said I believed, and whatever he said was right. I didn’t argue with him; he was my father and I knew he would never steer me wrong.
“There’s something that Daddy wants you to do.” His arms started to massage my shoulders. I guess he was trying to loosen me up, because this situation was new to me and it did have me tensed up. “You’re a real man, right?” I nodded my head again.
“I need for you to do me a favor,” He got up and walked over to his desk and opened a drawer and pulled out something square, metallic and shiny. It looked like a big piece of gum. He then walked over to the guy again and waved me over.
“Pull down your pants,” he instructed me. I nervously did as I was told. The other guy turned his head around and a smile came across his face. I stood there shaking and ashamed. The man looked at my father and my father then nodded his head. He then turned around, got down off of the chair and kneeled before me.
“Son, close your eyes and be very still.”
A couple seconds later I felt the strange man’s hand start to pull on my penis slowly and after a minute or so it was as hard as a rock. I had played with myself before but I had never been this hard. Then, I felt something warm on my penis and my eyes shot open and I saw the guy with my penis in his mouth sucking very hard. Tears were running down my face once again. I looked at my father who standing next to me rubbing the top of my head. “It’ll be over soon, son. Just keep your eyes closed.” He smiled like he was proud of me; it was the same smile he had when I played basketball, football, and my team had won the game. After a few seconds, my body started to twitch and the guy pulled off my penis and started massaging my penis again. I opened my eyes as I watched white liquid shot out of my penis and all over the man’s face.
“Well done, son.” He walked over to his desk again and pulled out some napkins and handed them to me and the other guy.
“Clean yourself up and pull you pants up.” He looked and me and the other guy. He walked back out the room, to his other room, and after a couple of seconds he came out with his coat and hat. I looked at the clock and only twenty minutes had passed. I grabbed my book bag and stood by the door, not looking either man in the face.
John walked out first and after a few minutes me and my father did the same. We rode to school in silence and before I got out of the car he told me that I showed him that I was a real man today and that everything we did should never be told to anyone, especially my mother.
In the following weeks, my brother Robert would soon join us and the same scene played out, except my father let the other guys put his penis in my brother’s buttocks. Neither of us said anything to anybody, because, as my father put it, we were “real men” and real men didn’t gossip or kiss and tell.
Years later in high school I learned that the behaviors and things my father made us participate in were wrong and was not accepted in society and I hid my secrets very well from then on. To this day my definition of a “real man” has been blurry. I couldn’t share any of this with my wife, because I was so ashamed. This is also why I never let my wife meet my family, especially my parents. My father was a big no-no. I just couldn’t stand his presence. I was liable to snap. He was dead to me. And unfortunately my mother was too, because she was an unknowing ally. I wanted to see my mom, call my mom, hug my mom, and share my wife with her. But, I couldn’t and strangely my wife almost never asked about them. My father twisted my life and my way of thinking so much. I am surprised that I have gotten so far in life and my career. Or maybe I haven’t gotten that far. Maybe I am just marking time. Going around and around in my head.
My wife saved my life and I didn’t want my past coming back to mess that up. That was my logic. That was my truth. Take it or leave it.
Chapter 4
Alex
Searching for me
April 3rd 1:35 P.M.
I sat in the college cafeteria looking over the list of numbers I got off the phone directory online. There were so many Parks living in California that I just didn’t think I would ever find the info I was looking for. I had already been through dozens of phone numbers and I still haven’t found out who James/Jerry Parks’s family was or lives. I could only do but so much calling because with class and football practice I had little time to do anything else. I put my head down in my hands and rubbed my temple with my thumbs, trying to focus on my homework before me and the two chili dogs I had sitting before me. I sipped my soda and took a bite of my now cold hot dogs and flipped through my playbook for practice. I had so much to do and so little time.
“Man, I need some help with all of this.” I spoke a little louder than I should have.
“Excuse me?” I heard a voice from behind me say. I had been so engrossed in myself that I didn’t notice anyone around me. I turned and looked up and saw one of the school’s servers-cooks standing before me. He was an older guy, probably around my father’s
age. A little rough looking, like he had a bad night or something.
“Nah, man, I was just talking to myself out loud,” I said looking at him with wonder. He looked familiar, but I just could not place him. He was looking at me the same way for a few seconds.
“Oh ... okay!” he finally spoke back. “I was just making sure.” He walked away and I turned to gather my things so that I could get back to the apartment, get ready for tomorrow, and make some more calls on the apartment phone.
As I walked out the cafeteria I got another glance at him as he was cleaning off food trays. I still couldn’t place him, so I kept it moving.
A couple of hours later ...
I heard Ashley come in the apartment. I was sitting up at the computer in my room doing some studying and searching the online phone directory again. Ashley acted as if she could have cared less about the news we got when we were sixteen, about the one we called Dad. When my mom said that he was not our biological father, I didn’t freak out at all, I loved him nonetheless, but that didn’t stop me from wondering about my biological father and what he was like. Since my parents never really discussed him, the only thing I have of him is the letter he wrote me before he died. I was hell-bent on finding out for myself. I needed closure in the situation. I wanted to know who the other half of me was, the other side of my family.
I knew he was born and raised here in California, but, again, it was hard trying to track down his family.
I got up out of my chair and walked out into the living room where Ashley was sitting, going through her backpack.
“What’s up, Ash!” I must have startled her, because she jumped.
“Oh, hey Lex!” She was a little jittery as she stuffed whatever she was looking at back in her backpack. She was so sneaky that it wasn’t funny. I tried to stop being concerned about her shenanigans a long time ago, but being the oldest I can’t help being concerned. It’s just seems like when we moved out here from Baltimore she started acting weird again like she was when she was home. Her being out late at night, whispering into her cell phone and having large amounts of money stuffed in her dresser drawers. Yes, I was still nosy, but I figure I had to help her stay out of trouble. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I hoped she wasn’t out here pimping one of the little lesbos running around on campus. I still can’t forget when I found out she was having sex with women.
