“You’re being so sweet.”
“Baby, your sweetness is my weakness.”
I stroked Buster’s cheek. ‘The first time I had sex, I was young and scared and just not ready physically or emotionally. I certainly wasn’t relaxed. And looking back, I’m sure I was afraid of opening myself up to a man. Not to mention that it hurt.”
Buster kissed me and wrapped his arms around me. “There’s no reason a man can’t be gentle. A lot of young dudes don’t realize that. But the last thing I wanna do is hurt you in any way.”
I remembered about birth control. That had been a big plus about dealing with Traci. I didn’t have to worry about getting pregnant.
“You know, I’m not on the pill or anything.”
“Don’t worry, I got a rubber. I gotta fresh pack of ’em.”
I smiled. “We’ll probably only need one.”
Buster laughed and hugged me. We rolled around on the bed and my body writhed with anticipation. The weed was really kicking in, and I was hot. Booties began flying every which way and we started coming out of our clothes.
I ran my fingers up and down Buster’s chest. “You don’t mind me asserting myself do you?”
“Hey, I’m in seventh heaven. Why should I have to do all the work?”
I slid my wet tongue up and down Buster’s ear.
“Baby, you blowing my mind.”
I tugged the little nappy hairs on Buster’s chest. Then I rubbed my breasts against his body. It felt warm and exciting being up against him.
Buster rewarded me with a long kiss. I sighed as he rubbed his hard penis up and down my naked thighs. His juice moistened my skin.
“You know, my first boyfriend was too big. And so was Myron, for that matter. In retrospect, we should’ve used K-Y jelly. Maybe we should use something now. It’s been a long time.”
“You think we’ll need it?” Buster asked.
I looked down at his erect penis.
“Maybe not, thank goodness you’re not real big.”
“Oh.”
“I meant it as a compliment.”
“Oh. I’m not too small though, am I?”
“No, of course not, you’re not too small, you’re perfect,” I assured him.
Buster managed a smile.
I hugged him. “There’s no one else I want inside of me,” I whispered.
We kissed and touched and teased each other. Buster played with my clitoris, and I put the rubber on his penis. My vagina contracted. I was ready to let Buster in. His slow, gentle thrusts felt good inside me. He rubbed my clitoris and I called out his name.
I spied Sterling bouncing a basketball out on the pavement as I walked toward the house. I was still basking in the afterglow of my orgasm.
Buster had asked me to ride with him and Sterling to the airport the following night. Of course I wanted to see him off, but I didn’t want to cut into Buster’s time with his brother. Buster had insisted that he wanted me there, and that Sterling wouldn’t mind. I had told him I’d run it by Sterling.
“Let me see the ball?”
Sterling held the ball away from me. “Ain’t no C on it,” he teased. “You want it, you gotta take it. He started bouncing the ball and doing some fancy footwork. Sterling was impressive for a minute. But Sterling didn’t know what he was up against. I got the ball away from him.
I dribbled the ball expertly. Sterling finally got it back.
“Hey, where did you learn that?” he asked, wiping his brow.
“‘Negro,’ my brother plays for Iowa State. And I’m the one who taught him how to make his first basket. I had a basketball jones way back in grade school. If I were a man I’d probably be in the NBA by now,” I bragged.
“Well, excuse the hell outta me.”
“I gotta ask you about something,” I said, following Sterling into the crib.
“What about?” Sterling asked, opening the refrigerator.
“Buster.”
“What about Buster?”
“I wanna tag along with you when you drive him to the, airport tomorrow night. Is that cool with you?”
Sterling popped open a can of beer. “Yeah,” he nodded, “but why?”
“Buster wants me to. And I want to.”
“Stevie, Buster doesn’t even know you.”
“Yes, he does.” I didn’t divulge that Buster knew me in the biblical way. “Buster and I went out to dinner the other night. And we went on a hike today. So, he does know me.”
Sterling looked surprised. “You had dinner with Buster and went on a hike together? When did all this happen?”
“Friday night and today.”
Sterling thoughtfully sipped his beer. “And you still wanna be in his company? Are you studying to be a psychologist or something?”
“Buster has his good points. Anyway, I told him I didn’t want to cut into your time together, but he said you wouldn’t mind.”
Sterling shrugged his shoulders. “Well, you’re welcome to come along. Believe me, you won’t be interrupting a Kodak moment or anything. We’ll probably shake hands and that’s it.”
“You know, Buster thinks you blame him for your mother’s death. And he’s hurting behind it.”
Sterling’s face got tense, but he was silent.
Suddenly, I felt scared. “I’m sorry if I was out of line. I mean, I know I’m living under your roof and all. If you want me to hold stuff back, then I will. But we can’t really be close if I can’t be real with you.”
Sterling sighed. “No, I want you to be real. And you were mighty real. But Buster still had no right dragging you into this. I don’t appreciate him airing our dirty laundry. It’s our family’s business.”
“Maybe so, but my grandmother used to say, ‘Dirty laundry washed in the dark seldom comes clean.’”
“Look, I know that my mother’s death wasn’t exactly Buster’s fault. But he was a fuckup, and she catered to him. So it was hard not to blame him at first. Maybe I should just blame the weather.”
“Yeah. So you’re not still mad at him?”
“I guess I’ve resented Buster for a long time. It wasn’t enough that I got good grades, played clarinet in the school band, and got a scholarship to U.C. Berkeley.”
“What reason was there to resent Buster?”
“My father always threw him up in my face. He was the athlete, had the girls.”
“I can see how that would be hard. Especially with him being younger. And not to mention that you were tripping on being gay.”
“Tell me about it. Anyway, Buster ends up getting a football scholarship to San Jose State and flunking out after two years. At least I got my degree.”
“You and Buster are individuals. And you’re both adults. It’s time to quit comparing.”
“You don’t know what it’s like to have my father’s foot on your neck all your life.”
“Sterling, you’re special, no matter what your father thinks.”
“I heard that.” Sterling smiled.
The rain was coming down hard and the windshield wipers were busy. Sterling said it was the beginning of the rainy season. “It doesn’t play out here,” he warned. “You’ll damn near need an ark before it’s over.”
I sat quietly in the backseat of the car while Buster and Sterling talked about how cold it was going to be in Alaska and how much long green you could make. And then Sterling pumped up the volume, and we all started rocking to Evelyn “Champagne” King singing “Shame.” I popped my fingers, ’cause “Shame” was one of my favorite jams.
Sterling pulled up to the curb of the San Francisco International Airport. “You’re not parking?” I asked. It had never crossed my mind that we were going to say good-bye to Buster on the sidewalk. I’d envisioned at least a kiss at the gate.
“There’s no need to park. It’s too much of a hassle.” Sterling was already out of the car, running for the trunk in the pouring rain. Buster turned and squeezed my hand. It felt warm even though his hand was cold
.
“I’ll get out,” I said.
“Here you go, man.” Sterling passed Buster the duffel bag.
“Can you handle everything?”
Buster nodded. “Thanks, man.” They gave each other the black handshake.
Sterling cleared his throat. “I bought you a little going-away present, man. I wasn’t sure who you were rooting for these days. Well, here.” Sterling pulled a Chicago Bears cap out of his right coat pocket and a Forty Niners cap from the left one. “Either one of them will cover up those braids.”
For a minute Buster appeared speechless. “Thanks, man,” he swallowed. “I really appreciate it.”
I watched Buster hug Sterling, and it did my heart good.
“All right now. Take it easy.” Sterling rushed back toward the car.
“Don’t tell Sterling I’m a Raiders fan,” Buster winked.
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
“Thanks for everything. You’re the most sincere girl I ever met. But I still think you’re too much woman to waste on another woman.”
I frowned at his backhanded compliment. “Forget you.”
Buster stared into my eyes. “Stevie, I’ll never forget you.”
Suddenly, everything seemed out of focus. My chest felt open and my knees weakened. I leaned forward and kissed Buster’s full lips. He kissed me back and my legs felt wobbly.
“I just wanted to give you another reason to remember me,” I said hoarsely.
“Let me get outta here, before I change my mind about leaving.”
I watched Buster drag his bags through the glass doors. He was gone, and I was left wondering what it all meant. A car horn interrupted my thoughts. “Don’t you have sense enough to come in outta the rain!” Sterling shouted, his head hanging out the window.
I slid into the front seat.
“What the fuck is going on?”
“Buster and I hooked up. I tried to tell you.”
“You mean y’all got it on?” Sterling raised his eyebrows.
“Yeah, we did.”
“Stevie, what the fuck has gotten into you!”
“You mean besides your brother’s dick? Sterling, why are you going to Hollywood? You pick up men at the baths and God knows where else.”
“Honey, I just take care of business.”
“So, you should understand attraction.”
“I can understand anybody wanting a piece.”
“I thought so.”
“What I can’t understand is this flip-flopping. You don’t see no sign outside my window, saying House of Damn Pancakes. Do you?”
“No.”
“Stevie, you don’t wake up one morning, and just say, I think I’ll be straight today.”
“It just happened, OK?”
“Well, don’t let it happen again. You have to get your identity straight—I mean clear.” Sterling smiled. “You have your reputation to consider.”
“I do?”
“Yes, you’re building a portfolio.”
“Why can’t I be open to whatever feels right?”
“Because, then the next thing you know they’ll be calling you bisexual.”
“That’s so bad?”
“Stevie, everybody hates bisexuals. Lesbians will think you’re just a straight woman experimenting at their expense. And heterosexuals will see you as a nymphomaniac.”
“Well, what’s the solution?”
“You’ve either figured out you’re really straight after one experience with a woman and you’ll never look at another woman again.”
“I can’t agree to that.”
“Let me finish. Or you can be a lesbian who just got attracted to a man. Quiet as it’s kept, it happens sometimes. My cousin Jackie in L.A. says lesbians digress occasionally.”
“You mean like a recovering alcoholic falling off the wagon?”
“Exactly, but you can still maintain your lesbian identity and nobody’s the wiser.”
“Why do I have to maintain anything? Why can’t I just be myself?”
“Sounds catchy, but I think you’ll discover it’s a gay world, after all.”
15
I got the job at the Personal Change Center! I was alone when they called; Sterling was at work. They say success means nothing if you don’t have anyone to share it with. So, I called Mama.
“Mama, I gotta job!”
“Which one?” she asked skeptically. Her dry tone took a little bit of the wind out of my sails.
“The receptionist job I told you about at the Personal Change Center.”
“Oh, the one with those nut cakes.”
“I can deal with them. I’m just happy finally to be working.”
“How much did you say it pays?”
I hadn’t said. “Six hundred dollars a month, plus benefits.”
“They’re paying garbagemen more than that. And you’re young, benefits aren’t that important.”
“I’m not tripping on the money. It’s more than enough to make ends meet. I’ve been surviving on a lot less.”
“To think, after four years of college you’d settle for a receptionist job. Just letting your education go down the drain.”
“Mama, it’s a foot in the door. I don’t plan to be a receptionist forever.”
“What do you plan to be?”
“I plan to use this gig to get established. I’m still gonna keep my eyes open for jobs in the media. I might even go to graduate school.”
“If you get a master’s degree, then maybe they’ll let you be a secretary,” Mama said sarcastically.
“Mama, it’s tough out here. You can’t just pop your fingers and get a glamorous job. They’ve got Ph. D.’s waiting tables and driving cabs.”
“Anybody with a Ph.D. who’s dumb enough to wait tables or drive a cab deserves to have his degree taken away.”
“You don’t understand. There are people who’ll take almost any job just for the privilege of living in San Francisco.”
“All I can say is they need to throw a net over the place.”
“Now at least I can start looking for an apartment.”
“Yeah, I guess you don’t want to wear out your welcome in that fellow’s house. You know how temperamental sissies are. Sterling might just come home one day and start redecorating and decide you don’t match the new pillows.”
“Mama, you oughta quit.”
“You know they can get hysterical at the drop of a hat.”
I sighed. “How’s everybody?”
“David hurt his knee in basketball practice.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yeah, the doctor says it wasn’t serious. But he has to sit out a few games. Your other brother jumped up and joined the marines.
“What about his asthma?”
“It hasn’t been acting up. So, they let him in this time.”
“Why would Kevin want to join the service?”
“Everybody can’t play basketball. This way Kevin can get an education and see the world.”
“Yeah, he can go to exotic places and meet exotic people and kill them.”
“Vietnam is over.”
“Yeah, but you never know when they’ll get involved in another one.”
“I’m not for killing. But I’m not gonna knock his decision. They’re doing more killing right here in Chicago. They’ve been pressuring Kevin to join a gang.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yeah, it’s getting rough out here. Kevin’s friend Taureen just got shot last week in the arm. He’s got a cousin in the gangs. Kevin says it was a revenge shooting.”
“Is Taureen all right?”
“Yeah, he’s OK. But you know he’s scared. He never knows when it might happen again.”
I sighed. “How’s Daddy?”
“Better, now that Kevin has enlisted. They’ve had a few runins. Kevin’s no white tornado around the house. And he likes to stay on the phone when he’s not out in the streets. Ray resents him, and when he’s had a few d
rinks your father is Chief Snorting Bull. But the doctor told him he better lay off alcohol.”
“Hope it didn’t go through one ear and out the other,” I said.
“Time will tell.”
“How’s Grandma?”
“She’s right here. But she gave us a little scare last night. Thank the Lord, when she woke up this morning her bed wasn’t her cooling board and her sheet wasn’t her shroud.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ll let her tell you.”
“Grandma, what happened?” I asked, concerned.
“Chile, I liked to left here last night.”
“What do you mean, Grandma? You’ve hardly known a sick day in your life.”
“Well, the old gray mare ain’t what she used to be.”
“Come on, you’re still frisky as a filly.”
“Well, last night, I didn’t think I could gallop another further.”
“What happened?”
“I thought my heart was going to give out. I was in the middle of ironing.”
I felt scared. “Are you okay now? Did you go see a doctor?”
“I’m fine. I took some Alka-Seltzer and everything is hunky-dory.”
“Maybe it was just indigestion.”
“That’s all it was. Today I’m fit as a fiddle.”
“It still wouldn’t hurt for you to go get a checkup, though.”
“You know I don’t fool with doctors. My grandmother lived to be a hundred and seven and never saw a doctor in her life.”
“Grandma, this is a different era.” I almost reminded her that her grandmother had been a slave. But instead I told her about my new job.
So far, I liked the gig. Probably at this point I’d like any job. But I actually enjoyed dealing with people who wanted to grow.
And the reception area was pleasant and comfortable. It used to be the living room of a stately Victorian. It contained enough wood to be considered quaint and enough of a draft to remind you that you were in San Francisco. Unfortunately, the fireplace no longer worked. So I wore my bulky knit Mexican sweater most of the time. And if I still was too cold, I turned on the space heater.
I was the only person of color on staff, except for Carolyn, who was Chinese. She was the bookkeeper, and only came in once a week. The Personal Change Center was one of several organizations she worked for.
Ain't Gonna Be the Same Fool Twice Page 22
