The End of the Rainbow

by Dontá Morrison

  Khalil looked at Tyrin, and as they made eye contact he felt all of the built up emotions suddenly resurge and without a second thought he blurted out, “He already has fucked up.” The table grew silent and as everyone glanced from person to person in an effort to get an answer from whoever may have the inside scoop. Kerrion decided to dive head in and ask,”Are the two of you having problems?”

  “Never mind.” Khalil said trying to reassure the table.

  “What you do?” Kerrion accusingly asked Tyrin.

  “Let it go Kerry,” Khalil said looking at his friend with eyes that begged him to back off.

  Tyrin scanned the table and met the eyes of everyone. There were no more side conversations as they all eagerly awaited some type of confession. Craig looked at his cousin and sensed that he had gotten himself into a predicament that he couldn’t get out of and decided to intercede. “Whatever happened is none of our business,” he stated to the table. “They will work it out, they always do. So let’s just finish eating before the food gets cold. Spencer, why don’t you tighten up the drinks?”

  Khalil excused himself from the table and went into the kitchen. As he held onto the sink for support he felt Tyrin come up and cautiously wrap his arms around him. His body grew stiff and the thought of this man touching him catapulted him to another level of anger. He began to squirm in attempt to unravel himself from the muscular arms holding him. The more he moved the tighter they seemed to become. It was like a Python trying to trap and crush its prey. He couldn’t figure out why Tyrin was so adamant about having conversation when there was clearly nothing to discuss except when he is moving out of the house.

  “Baby wait. Stop running from me. We need to talk,” Tyrin pleaded.

  “Let me go…now!”

  “Not until you agree to hear my side in all of this.” he gripped tighter and what started out as a hold began to be a tussle.

  “Let me fucking go. It ain’t shit to talk about!” Khalil yelled.

  Kerrion got up from the table and was about to head into the kitchen but was told to sit down by the others present. They agreed that it was not their problem and would only intervene if the situation escalated.

  Lea suggested that they just leave, but Spencer knew that was a bad idea. Leaving two gay men in a house alone to argue was a recipe for disaster. Instead, they sat as still as figures in a wax museum, listening to the grunting sounds coming from the kitchen.

  Tyrin continued to grip his body and Khalil was unsuccessfully trying to struggle free from his overpowering arms. Realizing he was near defeat, he reached down into the sink and gripped a dirty steak knife. He maneuvered the knife into position on the flawless chocolate skin and drew downward, causing blood to rush out of the muscled forearm.

  Tyrin loosed his grip and yelled out in pain from the slice. He stood in shock that Khalil would even do such an act. However, his defensive impulses caused him to thrust his fist into Khalil’s mouth, splitting it open, and knocking him to the ground.

  “Oh my God, baby I’m sorry. I didn’t mean too.” As Tyrin reached down to help him, his eye was met with a punch, and body pulled to the ground by a savage Khalil.

  They tussled on the ground like wrestlers in a ring and Khalil was doing everything in his power to inflict as much pain as possible. Tyrin was trying his best to restrain and only wanted to get up and get away from the blows that were painfully connecting with his body. He managed to gain his footing and get to the other side of the kitchen. Shirt ripped and arm dripping with blood, he stood there out of breath, praying it was over; but he could see in Khalil’s eyes that there was a lot of fight left in him.

  The crew heard the argument kick up a notch. They stormed into the kitchen like S.W.A.T, just in time to observe Khalil rush into Tyrin like a linebacker on the gridiron. Tyrin was trying his best to avoid the face and body shots that were swiftly coming his way. He refrained from fighting back because he felt he was getting what he deserved, but the punches were getting harder to withstand. As repentant as he was, Tyrin was one punch away from going straight ballistic and fighting Khalil like he was a stranger in the street.

  Khalil’s rage was being fueled by the thoughts of Tyrin penetrating another man. He was in a zone of anger that had taken him to another level of consciousness. He heard and saw nothing but a cheating partner that had no regard for his health. He was praying that each swing was taking Tyrin to a place of unmeasured physical pain. He loved this man more than he could put into words and knowing that he had been sexually pleased by someone else was grueling. He wanted to kill him but didn’t want him dead and it was those types of thoughts that caused his mind to be in a tumultuous state of confusion.

  Craig jumped in between the tussle, but not before Khalil powered his fist into Tyrin’s unsuspecting jaw. The diamonds on his commitment band scraped off pieces of flesh and added another wound to his violently attacked body. Spencer rushed and pulled his hysterically crying friend to the other side of the kitchen, as everyone looked in amazement at the aftermath of what had just occurred. “Wait a damn minute! What the hell is going on? What the fuck are you two fighting about?” Craig yelled out amongst the confusion.

  “Hold on! Before we get into that, we need to check where all this blood is coming from.” Lea said.

  “It’s my arm. He cut me with a knife.” Tyrin said as he winced in pain from the entire event.

  “Don’t touch it though. It’s tainted,” Khalil said, cupping his hand under his mouth to catch the blood that was steadily dripping out.

  “What the hell you mean tainted?” Spencer asked.

  “Tell em, you dirty bitch!” Khalil barked with hatred and fury.

  Tyrin looked at Khalil and didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t know if he deserved to be called out like this or if he should be pissed at the fact that his lover had no remorse for what he was going through. He couldn’t think straight and as he tried to be a man about the situation his level of masculinity seemed to be at an all time low. He wanted to crawl under a bed or hide in a closet, but as the air in the room was getting thinner and thinner he knew he had to say something before he passed out. “I have HIV,” he confessed to the group, as his eyes began to water.

  Everyone’s mouth dropped, and as the two scorned lovers stood in the midst of their loved ones no one knew exactly what to do next. Khalil felt his lip swelling as the pain in his mouth began to match the pain in his heart. Craig looked at his cousin and wanted to ask how this happened but he knew that in time he would find out. He wrapped his arms around his family member with unconditional love and held him tight. He didn’t care about the blood that was getting on his shirt or the fact that the blood was infected; all he cared about was his cousins’ well being and sound state of mind.

  “Oh my God. Khalil are…?” Koya started to ask before being cut off.

  “I don’t know. I don’t fucking know! I will find out on Thursday. On Thursday I will know if I’m dying or not. On Thursday I will know if that cheating motherfucker over there took my health away from me,” Khalil said, trying to break free to continue his assault on Tyrin.

  “Cheating. Hold the hell up, what do you mean cheating?” Kerrion asked, pushing his way through the group. “You cheated on my brother?” He asked as he walked toward Tyrin. “I’m talking to you, bitch!”

  “Back up Kerry. Don’t even go there alright.” Craig said as he let go of Tyrin, and stood on the frontline for his cousin.

  “Oh, so you’re going to defend his ass? You probably knew didn’t you? You ain’t nothing but a fucking dog anyway, so I guess you would condone that fucked up shit,” he said while walking up on Craig.

  “Yeah I knew he fucked around. What the fuck are you gonna do, with your punk ass?” He responded back to Kerry.

  “Yo, hold up homie. You ain’t got to be stepping to him like that. Your boy is the one that is foul. And if you knew about some tired shit like that, then you are as fucked up as he is.” Andre said, coming to Kerr
ion’s defense.

  “I just want to know who it was.” Khalil said, breaking the tension between the three of them. “Who was it Tyrin? Somebody you photographed? Is he famous? Was it even a he? Just tell me who?”

  “I can’t.” he replied.

  “Did I know him? Did I cook for him? Did I hang out with him? Have I shaken his hand? Has he been in this fucking house is all I want to know?” He continued.

  “Let’s go man. Just go pack a bag and come stay at my place.” Craig said, trying to change the subject.

  “He’s not going anywhere until he answers my fucking questions! I know that’s your cousin and I would be more than happy for you to take him with you, but this has to do with us and not you. Can you respect that?” Craig backed away from Tyrin and allowed Khalil to walk closer to him.

  Tyrin looked at Khalil and knew he owed him at least this one thing. He thought that if he answered this one question it might help the healing. “It was an intern.”

  Lea walked over with an ice filled towel to put on his puffy lip, but in his anger he smacked her hand away and questioned what Tyrin had just said, “An intern? You cheated on me with a broke ass intern?” he let out a chuckle and just shook his head at the fact that it wasn’t even an upgrade.

  “Are you happy? You got your answer, so can we go now?” Craig asked Khalil.

  “Which one? I knew them all. I remember every last one,” Khalil quietly said.

  “Man, you ain’t got to stay around for this shit,” Craig insisted.

  “It was Marquis,” he whispered.

  “Who?” Khalil asked.

  “Marquis.” he said in a more audible voice.

  “My cousin?” Koya exclaimed from behind Khalil. “You slept with my twenty-year old cousin?”

  “No Koya. He slept with your then nineteen year old cousin because the shit happened a year ago.” Craig said with no remorse.

  “Get the fuck out.” Khalil calmly said, as he lowered his head in disbelief.

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me. Please don’t say you slept with my little cousin. The cousin that I trusted you to be an example too. Did you infect my cousin?” she asked.

  “I think it may be the other way around. My cousin was clean before he met that dirty little bastard.” Craig said to her.

  “Keep out of this, Craig. This is my entire fault and I don’t need you defending me.” Tyrin said to him.

  “Tyrin that is some fucked up shit. How could you do my boy like that? I don’t believe this bullshit. I thought you loved him?” Kerrion asked. “You better watch your back bitch, because you have truly fucked yourself this time.”

  “Dre get him out of here. It’s too much going on right now,” Spencer said. Andre grabbed Kerrion by the arm and began to lead him out of the kitchen, he continued to blurt out threats of vindication toward Tyrin and as hateful and vicious as each one sounded, no one in the room seemed to object to his outbursts.

  “Yes Koya, I slept with your cousin. It was a year ago and it was a mistake, a very big mistake. Khalil, I am so sorry about all of this, I know that there is absolutely nothing I can do to change any of itand I know that you and I are no more. We can discuss how we are going to handle all of this at a later date. By that, I am referring to the house and all of our assets. You are all witnesses to the fact that I am willing to give him what I owe and will not put up a fight. I have no more fight left in me. I have lost my lover, my health, one of my closest female friends, my son, and my dearest acquaintances, all in the same day. I need to go away for awhile.”

  He was shaking uncontrollably and trying to say his words clearly but they wouldn’t seem to flow without breaking up. “Craig, I’m not going with you. I need to be alone. Boo, excuse me, Khalil, when you are ready for me to come and get the rest of my stuff, call me on my cell phone.”

  Tyrin silently made his way through the group and into the garage where he started his Range Rover and skirted out without even packing a bag of clothes. As everyone began to exit the kitchen and head their separate ways to get either their thoughts or belongings together, Khalil stood in the center of the floor and stared at the puddle of blood that remained.

  He had no idea what to do next but he did begin to feel the physical pains of the tussle beginning to set in. He lowered himself onto the floor and sat Indian style. He couldn’t believe the day started so peacefully and ended so tragically. In this moment of solitude he asked himself, “What now?” Then he looked up and asked God, “What do I do now?”

  Tosha walked into the kitchen and lowered herself at the feet of Khalil hoping to give some sort of relief to what he was feeling. He looked at the dog and realized that she was a reminder of the bastard that betrayed her. They stared at each other for a few moments and in a voice that caused everyone in the house to stop in their tracks, Khalil yelled, “Craig! Come and get your cousin’s bitch out of my fucking house!”

  THIRTEEN

  Wednesday morning, two days after his life changing news, Tyrin awakened from his half-hour catnap and stared at the now familiar hotel room walls. His cell phone rang all night and the caller id showed Craig was desperately trying to reach him. The thought of having to endure the rest of his life without Khalil by his side was starting to take its toll. Being alone in the room gave him time to think about all that had transpired and he came to the conclusion that his life wasn’t worth living anymore. He was tired of crying and tired of the empty feeling that engulfed him. The mind was a terrible thing to try and fight, but in his state of mental instability and solitude, his mind was the only thing talking to him.

  He sat on the edge of the bed staring into the mirror atop the dresser and all he saw was a man that was no more. His face was now permanently scarred with a gash he felt he deserved, and the wound on his arm was now a puffy sore that was trying to heal itself without the help of any antibiotics. The image in the mirror was not of a man that had it all together, but of one that was at the end of his rope. He reached up and rubbed his stubble filled face and the pungent smell of his own body was no longer an irritant to him. He spent the last two nights holding his cell phone waiting for Khalil to call and tell him to come home. He hoped that maybe he had given everything a second thought and realized that they could make it through this.

  Each moment he hadn’t called hurt him worse than anything ever had before. “Momma, I need you. I wish you and Daddy were here. Why did you guys leave me?” he said in a scared and broken voice, “Tell Gregory I said hi, but don’t let him know that I am gay O.K. I don’t want him to laugh at me. What is heaven like? I bet it’s pretty. Have you seen Jesus? Aunt Dianne said you get to talk to him all the time. I try to talk to him, but I think he is too disgusted with me right now, so maybe that’s why he doesn’t answer. I’ve asked him time and time again why did he take my mom, dad, and brother, but didn’t take me? I even asked why I was gay. He just won’t answer me.” His own voice was beginning to become his solace. He was crumbling but had no idea how to make it stop. His body began to rock back and forth as the tears streamed down his worn face. He fought to hold his composure but it was a battle he was rapidly losing.

  He jumped up from the bed and stared harder into the mirror, trying to find an answer to the questions he just asked. But in the silence he realized that there was only one way to get the response he needed. He thrust his fist straightforward into the object that reflected the man he had grown to hate, causing shards of broken glass to scatter on the dresser. His bloodied fingers picked up one of sharpest pieces. As he visually dissected the object in his hand, he sat back on the bed. His mind was busy convincing him that the only way he could get an answer from Jesus was if he asked him face to face. If he stood face to face with that man, he would be forced to answer him. He couldn’t dodge his questions and he couldn’t put him on hold any longer.

  He began to pick at the pulsating artery located at his wrist. He didn’t want to slice it, instead he wanted to manually pull it out from under the sk
in and break it in two. As the sharp piece of glass picked at the tender flesh, he wandered into another place that seemed tranquil and calm.

  He was growing more satisfied by the thoughts that in a few moments he would be reunited with his family, and face to face with the man that could give him all of the answers that he needed. Thoughts of Khalil raced through his mind and he imagined how happy he was going to make him by just disappearing from this place. This was the one way he knew to make up for all of his mistakes. This would make Khalil smile for sure, and by doing this he would prove to him that he truly was sorry and willing to do anything for him.

  The glass pierced deeper into his flesh and he studied the procedure like a surgeon performing open-heart surgery. As he skillfully continued to pierce the skin trying to get at the vein, the flow of blood was starting to obstruct his view. He gave up on that wrist and moved to the next so he could get a fresh start. This time he knew what to expect as far as pain was concerned and understood exactly how he wanted to go about getting the vein exposed. As the blood leaked onto the carpet, dampened his clothes, and flowed down his hand, he refused to stop the process.

  The sight didn’t scare him nor deter him from what he was doing; but what it did do was cause him to feel a sense of lightheadedness and he simply brushed it off as just hunger. His left wrist was dispensing fluid like a slow running fountain and as his eyes began to grow weak.

  He felt a sense of failure begin to overwhelm him. He hadn’t gotten to the vein he wanted and he refused to stop until he pulled it out like a deranged scientist pulling the wire out of a robot that was causing havoc throughout the city. The glass slipped from his grasp and as his semi lifeless hands dropped to his knees, his head slumped over into a weakened position. With the fight he had left in him, he began to claw at the exposed wound, plunging his finger into the open hole that now occupied his wrist.