by Pope, M. T.
“Is everything okay, Ash?” I walked up to sofa she was sitting on and sat down next to her.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she looked at me dead in the eyes. The jitteriness seemed like it instantly disappeared. She was still a good liar, I figured. No, I knew. “Why you asked that?”
“I asked because you just seemed a little jumpy a couple of seconds ago. It was like I scared you or something.”
“Um ... Lex ...” She patted me on the leg and got up off the chair, throwing the backpack over her shoulder. “That’s a normal reaction when someone sneaky walks in the room and startles you.” Man, she can be a smart-ass bitch sometimes.
“Sneaky?” I looked offended. I knew what I was, though, but she didn’t have to call me out, though. “Ash, I was just walking into a room. How is that sneaky?” I stood up as well. She began to walk toward her room. I trailed behind her.
“Lex, just leave me alone ... all right!” The all right had an “I will cut you!” undertone, so I left it alone. She slammed her door and I walked into my room right next to hers.
“Chicks are just plum crazy.” I shook my head and laughed.
Ring ... ring ... ring ...
“Hello.” I picked up the apartment phone without looking at the caller ID. We didn’t have many people calling, so I knew it was my dad, mom, Diana or Li’l Shawn calling.
“Hey, son,” I heard my dad speak through the phone.
“Hey, Dad,” I said and blew out a breath of frustrated air.
“What’s wrong, son?” he asked in a concerned father tone.
“Nothing is wrong, Dad, just a little frustrated, that’s all.”
“School or football?” he asked.
“That, plus my other half.” I wasn’t about to tell him I was searching for my biological father’s family.
“Oh!” he laughed. “What did she do now?”
“Nothing in particular, Dad, just being the crazy woman she is.” I wasn’t sure of what she was doing, so I chose to leave out the details, at least until I knew what they were and if I could handle it by myself.
“Get used to it, Lex. They are all a bunch of crazies,” he laughed into the phone.
“Well, I’m actually calling about the amount of phone listings you guys were calling for from the apartment phone.” My father pays most of the bills for us while we are here. Before we left Baltimore, he made an agreement that he would finance us fully through our second year of college. He would expect us to have a job by the end of the second year and he would cut down his financing to half of what he is currently doing. Ashley was not thrilled with this, being the spoiled little brat that she is. She has been grumbling and moaning ever since Dad called us and told us it was time to start looking. I had no problem with it, though. I knew sooner or later that I would have to be a man and start fending for myself. “The amount of calls has been extremely high the last couple of months. It’s only you two in the apartment, right?”
“Of course, Dad, just me and Ash. Nobody else lives here.”
“That still doesn’t explain that volume of calls on these bills. It’s like someone has been going through the phone book or something.”
“Well, Dad, Ashley and I both have been looking really hard for jobs. That is why there are so many numbers on the phone.” I hoped that was a good enough lie, because I was not a good liar and I had no backup lies.
“Oh ... okay. As long as you guys are doing what you are supposed to be doing while you are out there. Alex, I‘m looking forward to seeing both of you graduate from college in two years, okay.” He had such high expectations of us and I can’t fault him for wanting us to succeed. I’ve just been wondering in the back of my mind if his care and love for us was genuine or not. Since, technically we are not his children. He’s never given us that impression, but I still wonder sometimes.
“Me too, Dad ... me too.”
“Lex, let me speak to Ash for a sec.”
“Okay.” I walked to Ashley’s door and knocked.
“Yeah!” I heard Ashley yell from behind the door.
“Dad wants you on the phone.” As soon as I heard her pick up I hung up my phone.
I walked to the bathroom and started the shower. About five minutes into the shower I figured out where I knew the guy in the cafeteria from.
Chapter 5
Back In Baltimore ...
Shawn
Loose Ends
April 3rd 8:02 P.M.
“Whew,” I blew out a nice strong breath after I hung up the phone with Ashley and Alex. “Children!”
I sat back in my chair, real hard. I was in my office as usual going over bills and such. Alex was the mild one, the one I really didn’t have to worry about. I’m sure he has his problems and all, but he knows how to stay focused and keep it moving. Now Ashley, on the other hand, is a whole different story. After I found out that she had a lesbian relationship, I have tried to keep a closer eye on her. I must admit I spoiled her because I thought she may have needed more attention when it came to her reaching out for same-sex contact. It had an adverse effect. She became accustomed to my coddling and now she doesn’t want to work for anything. The entire time we were on the phone talking she was giving me attitude and blowing her breath as if I was wasting her time. I just hoped and prayed that she didn’t turn out to be like her James. I could have inadvertently triggered something in her that would cause her to act out. I prayed that I didn’t, but I knew that it was possible.
On the other hand, I had Alex there to monitor her, and if she did become out of hand I am sure he would report to me any and all odd occurrences.
On another note, Wallace, James’s boyfriend, just up and disappeared on me. I was sort of a confidant and counselor to him when he needed to talk. He kept asking me questions about James that I didn’t know and some questions I knew answers to, but couldn’t divulge because it was giving away the secret of me and James being sexually involved. I don’t know why I didn’t tell him about us. Well, I did. I just wasn’t ready to tell me yet. I was attracted to him and the more I would talk to him the more I would fantasize about him and me together. I have been having steady counseling sessions with my pastor and a licensed therapist and I was making major headway, now that he was gone. I have told Mona about him; well, I didn’t tell her he was gay. I just said I was helping him out on a case brought against him. Another lie I would have to pay for, for sure. I am glad he is gone and I don’t have to deal with him or look at him. My pastor and therapist both said that I would need to have minimal contact with anyone that was “in the life,” to assure that I would stay abstinent. I agreed.
“Forgive me, God,” I said as I looked up to heaven. “I need some help tying up these loose ends in my family.” I got down on my knees and began to pray.
Chapter 6
Wallace
Remember When ...
April 4th 9:34 A.M.
It was a pretty normal day as I woke up in my apartment in Culver City. A nice, plush neighborhood that was quiet and laid back just like I liked it.
I laid in my bed on Saturday morning thinking about homeboy from the cafeteria yesterday. He looked awfully familiar. He looked just like a miniature James to be exact.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” I sat up in bed as painful memories invaded my mind. I threw my dreads in a makeshift ponytail, slid into my slippers, threw on my robe and made my way toward my bathroom. I stopped, turned and looked at my bed. Half of the bed was still undisturbed.
“Baby, you supposed to be sleeping next to me.” I walked up to a picture of James and me after we got married, which was on the nightstand on his side of the bed and picked it up. Tears slipped out of my eyes and down my cheek. Touched his face with my thumb and I put it down where it was.
“Maybe, I’m seeing shit. Homeboy doesn’t look like my baby. I’m just bugging.” I shook my head and walked toward the shower. “But he does look familiar to me, I just can’t place him.”
In the shower my mind was racing.
I had to do something really heavy today. I have been putting it off for way too long.
When James died, I tried my best to keep up a good front and hustle like I normally did. But I was consumed with him. I missed him so much. I would break down in my car a lot. Then I remembered the way I got him was underhanded. It was called karma and it took away my baby. My love and my heart. I lost my thirst to hustle, slowly but surely, when James died. I had no one to live for anymore. I had no one in my life to spend my money on. I had no one to love me anymore. So I sold everything I owned in Baltimore and moved back to California where my “family” was. I had long forgotten about my parents and my brothers. Here I was starting all over again at almost fifty-one years old.
When I moved back here two years ago I thought all I would need was the money that I left Baltimore with to shop and keep me busy, but I was wrong. Loneliness crept in like locusts and I had to find something to do with my time. I finally enrolled in culinary school. I graduated and looked for a job. Since I had no previous experience, I had to take an entry- level position at UCLA’s cafeteria. It wasn’t a million-dollar job, but I love cooking the food for the kids and it kept me busy. But, I still wasn’t completely happy. On top of missing James, I wanted to have a relationship with my family. I didn’t know them and almost thirty years has passed. I need my family, but I still had issues with my mom letting my dad put me out and my dad putting me out. I had many questions that I needed answered. I just hope I wasn’t too late.
I finished washing myself up and got dressed in some denim Capris and a plain white T. I threw on a plain powder blue fitted hat and some white Rockport sandals. I feed the cats, the ones that belong to James. Mindy and Shaw were the only physical things, besides the pictures and a few pieces of clothing, which I had left of James. I made sure I took good care of them. I jumped into my tan Lincoln Navigator and speed off toward my mom’s house.
I drove down the streets of Gardena watching my past fly by as I passed my high school hangout spots that I frequented, and the first place I had sex with a guy. Twenty-five minutes later I slowly pulled up to the block I called home so long ago.
“Home,” I breathed out. I looked at the neighborhood where I would watch my brothers run up and down the street and play on. Football, baseball, soccer; you name it, they played it. I was the oldest, but felt like the youngest, because most of the time my father would scold me for not being the “man” that he thought I should be like. He said real men don’t cook. I always wondered about the term “real men” as a child. I would hear him and my mother argue all the time about what he thought a “real man” consisted of and how I wasn’t living up to it. I would go in the bathroom and look at my genitals and I wondered why he would say the things he said. I had the same genitals he had and looked just like him, so why was I not a “real man”? For a period of time, I tried to be like my younger brothers and run up and down the street and play games like them. I admit I enjoyed it, but my heart wasn’t in it. So back to cooking it was for me. I loved to see the smile on my mom’s face when I got something right. She would call me “li’l chef man.” I felt special, unique.
At nine, I knew I was different. I knew I wasn’t like other boys. I wasn’t feminine or nothing like that, but I paid attention in class and liked colors and detail. But, I also liked cars and clothes. I would go to the library and look at the latest car and fashion magazines and marvel at how good the guys looked next to them. There were girls in the pictures too, but I never really noticed them. I paid it no mind then, but now I know that I was born the way I am. I was gay. I wondered if my mom and dad knew before I did and hoped it would go away. That is what I was here to find out.
“Nothing’s changed.” I looked at all the detached houses that had an array of colors and white picket fences, typical suburbia.
“Let’s do this!” I had to psyche myself into this. I just didn’t know what to expect.
I walked up the pathway toward the door and stood in front for several seconds rubbing my fingers on the inside of the palm of my hand nervously.
I finally pushed the doorbell. Hoping no one was home. Several seconds passed by; the wind had picked up and tossed my dreads around. I turned around with the excuse I was going to get my jacket that I had left in the car.
“Can I help you?” I heard a couple of steps down the walkway. I turned to see a woman standing in the doorway. My mother was still beautiful. She was noticeably older but she still didn’t look the seventy years old that she was. I hung my head low for a second. I was afraid to look back up.
“Wallace? ... Is that you?” Her voice trembled a little.
“Yes ... yes, ma’am. It’s me.” I said lifting my head back up and slowly walking back toward her. Everything in me was shaking as I tried to hold back the tears pushing to spill out.
“Oh my lord ... my baby... . You came back home.” Tears were rapidly falling out of her eyes and down her face. She held her arms open wide. “Where have you—? I can’t belie—oh ... my ... lordy. My baby’s home.” She squeezed me so tight that it was hard to breathe. I hugged her back just as hard as my tears of pain and anguish fell on her shoulder. It felt like I was ten all over again and I had passed a test in school or cooked something just like she would have. A mother’s hug was like water in the desert to a thirsty man. Going without it for too long was devastating.
I pulled back and looked at my mother. “Yes, Ma, I’m back.” My mother had picked up a little weight, but she still looked pretty. Madison or Madi as her friends called her was the apple of my eye as a child. I was still in love with her looks and how she looked at me right now.
“Ohhh ... Thank ya, Jesus ... Thank ya, Lord!” She praised God. “You brought my baby back home!”
I just continued to look as she went on and praised God for a few more seconds. I remembered my momma being a spiritual woman as I grew up and church attendance was a regular part of our weekly regimen, even though most of the time my father would not be there with us.
“Look at you, all plump and stuff. I see you been eating good,” she said as she patted my stomach and squeezed my cheeks, causing me to blush. “Oh, and look at that hair of yours almost down to your bottom.” I blushed again and looked around to see if anyone saw me standing in the doorway with my momma in her robe, scarf, and curlers. I was a tad bit embarrassed.
“Wallace, baby. Come on in baby. Get in here!” She pulled me in by the arm and shut the door.
“Wallace, I’ll be right back.” She headed toward the stairs. “I need to check on your father.”
“Yes, ma’am, take your time.” I was still a little nervous. I had questions, but I knew she had some as well. I didn’t know if I was ready to answer any questions she had.
I stepped into the living room and was instantly transported back to my childhood. The house had not changed much at all. Well, she had a plasma television on the wall, which looked to be about thirty-two inches or so. The picture frames were now all digital, even the ones from when we were kids. I looked on the mantle and saw the picture of my brothers and wondered how their lives played out. It flashed in my head how I had blocked so much out once I left here and headed to Baltimore. You would have never thought I had brothers or a family for all that matters. I guess James wasn’t the only one keeping hush about his past. I did the same things. They say you attract who you are and not what you want. I shook my head at that thought. It was ironic now that I looked back. I was the least bit innocent as I portrayed to be. I wasn’t just quiet with my mess.
Anyway, David was a little younger than me and Robert was the youngest. I missed my brothers, even though when we were children it seemed that we didn’t have anything in common. From looking at one of the pictures on the wall, I could see that David was in a cap and gown. He was a really smart guy as a child. Robert was a teen standing in front of a car by himself. I assumed neither had children, because I saw no pictures of any children anywhere. I looked around a little further and saw pictur
es of my mom in her Sunday best gathered around a bunch of ladies and various church functions. She looked so happy. None of them had my father in it, which wasn’t odd at all. He wasn’t a church-type man, but he said he believed in God and that was enough for him. I looked around the room at all the knickknacks my mom had around the house. Angels and crosses were everywhere. I smiled because my mother always had a thing for angels. She even relayed to me that I was her “little angel” at times. I always felt like I was her favorite. She never said it but I felt it to be true. That all changed the day she let my father put me out. I was so angry at her for not fighting for me and for giving me up so easy. Too many nights in Baltimore I would wonder what I did for her to just let me go so easily. I heard her footsteps coming down the stairs, so I sat down on the living room chair and pretended I was looking at a text in my phone.
“I’m back.” She walked in the room with a denim skirt and a white T-shirt on. “You hungry, baby?”
“Ahhh ... Yes, ma’am.” I answered back, not looking her in the face.
“Well, come on, Mama’s little angel.” She turned and headed toward the kitchen. At her age she was still fast as lightning. I was amazed at her speed. I smiled as I got up and trailed behind her. I still loved her nicknames for me, especially that one.
“Sit down while I fix us something good to nibble on.” She was always a nibbler, when it came to food, because I have never seen her eat an entire plate of food in one sitting. A little here and a little there was her routine, till this day. It was nice to see she hadn’t changed that much.
