The Other Side of Love (Forever Love)

by Cooper, J. S.

  “Really?” I half-smiled. “Though I do feel like I’ve been to the edge of hell.”

  “I’ve missed you.” He sat down on a couch, gripping the arms, and my heart sank as I realized how much thinner he looked. His hair was also completely gray, and as I stared at him, it struck me that he had aged significantly. I felt sad that I had missed a year of his life—a year was such a long amount of time.

  “I missed you as well. Thank you for keeping my secret.”

  “It was hard. I’m not going to lie. Your brother looked like death warmed up. If it wasn’t for Lucky being there for him, I’m not sure I would have been able to have kept it a secret.”

  “I would have understood if you had felt the need to tell him. It wasn’t fair to burden you like that.”

  “I was honored that you trusted me enough to tell me.”

  “You’re one of my best friends.” I spoke honestly. “I thought about you a lot when I was away.”

  “So how was it in Palm Beach?” Sidney gave me a wide smile and his eyes danced with mirth.

  “You know, I wish I had been in Palm Beach.” I laughed. “And you’re going to keep at it until I tell you where I was, huh? I was in a city called Palm Bonita, and trust me, Palm Bonita was not a city that would have been featured on Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous.” I shuddered in remembrance. “Though it may have been the set for the Twilight Zone.”

  “That great?” He shook his head and smiled before his expression turned more serious. He looked me and up and down slowly and then spoke again. “I can tell it was tough. Your eyes tell a different story now.”

  “They do?” I looked at him in surprise. “I didn’t know that my eyes told a story, period,” I said and then laughed.

  “Yes.” Sidney sat back and stretched his legs out carefully. “When we first met, your eyes were full of hope, wonder and sadness. Though the sadness was for me and my story. You were sensitive to what I had been through. You were full of compassion and sincerity, but it was for my story. Now that sadness shines through you as if it has also touched your soul. Your eyes have a tinge of bleakness as well, as if your heart has been cracked a little bit. You’re sad now. You’ve seen other sadness, I think, and this sadness has impacted your life.” He squinted at me, and was silent for a moment as he assessed my face again.

  “Wow, you’re good.” I said slightly uncomfortable at how easily he had been able to read me. I looked to the side of the room and studied the family photographs on the table. “You never told me you were a psychic.”

  “I’ve gone through unspeakable pain. I don’t talk about it much because the past is the past, but real pain. Gut wrenching pain, it never leaves you. And once you’ve been through it, you can tell when someone else has.” His voice was light, but intense. “Did you know that when I was fifteen, my brother dated a white girl? A pretty young blonde girl. She was a nice girl. Very sweet. They used to go to the movies. Well, one day some neighborhood boys from her school found out and they told my brother to stay away from her. My brother, he didn’t listen. We were in the North, you know. We didn’t think we had to worry like in the South. In the South, we wouldn’t have even looked at a white girl. Well, those boys, they didn’t like my brother’s answer. One night after he walked Ellen, that was her name, home, he got jumped by about five boys. Beat him black and blue. His nose was bleeding, his lip was cracked, and we come to find out later that he had a few cracked ribs. Well, my brother didn’t want to make no fuss. He didn’t want to get anyone into any trouble. We found out later that Ellen’s brother was involved in the jumping.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. That’s awful.”

  “My brother lost sight in his left eye, and Ellen went on to marry one of the boys that beat my brother up.” Sidney’s voice was sad. “I never could understand how people could be so hateful and vile. That was the incident that broke my trust in humans and their innate goodness. People ain’t all good. That’s what you got to understand. Some people are just evil. There is no reason to it. It’ll break your heart once you realize that. You’ve realized that now. You’ve witnessed the cruelty that exists in some human beings. I can see it in your soul.”

  “I have.” I nodded slowly and realized how aptly he had voiced the pain I know felt. Once again I was blown away by how accurate Sidney was in his evaluation of me and his ability to see into my soul and heart. “You’re good.”

  “I wish I wasn’t.” He smiled at me sadly. “If there was one person I wished would never experience the cruelty of humans to one another, it would be you, my son. You more than anyone shouldn’t have to feel and witness the evil in the world. For you are all light, my boy. You were the one that made me believe in goodness again.”

  “And I’m a good ol’ white boy.” I grinned at him, touched by his words and he laughed.

  “Ain’t nothing about color. There be good white men and good black men. And there be bad white men and bad black men. It’s about the person inside. Can’t judge on the exterior.” He looked me in the eyes. “But I know you know that.”

  “I wish everyone did.”

  “It comes to most of us sooner or later.” Sidney shrugged. “To some it comes on the deathbed. But it comes. I’m lucky I met you. Or I could have spent the rest of my days thinking that all white men be the devil.”

  “Or the devil incarnate.” I grinned at him, and he chuckled.

  “So tell me what got you looking like your whole world ended.”

  “I don’t look that bad, do I?” I made a face, and he shook his head.

  “To most of the world, I’m sure you look just fine. Maybe better than fine. But to those of us who love you, you look lost.”

  “I met someone in Palm Bonita.” I made a face. “Crazy, right? She was beautiful and sassy and we started dating and at first everything was perfect.”

  “What changed?”

  “She wasn’t the person I thought she was.”

  “She broke your heart?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “Not in the way that you think, though.” I sighed and bit my lip before continuing. “I’ve never really been in love. Or I should say, felt love. I’ve always had Zane and loved him, but I’ve never had another person reach that spot in my heart. And in Palm Bonita that changed. I felt an overwhelming and heart-stopping love, and I had to walk away from it, and I’m crushed. And there was nothing I could do. I’ve never felt so hopeless.”

  “There’s nothing you can do?”

  “Not legally.”

  “That’s why you wanted me to contact my son, huh? You’ve got a big heart.” Sidney stared at me, and he looked thoughtful. I had a feeling he understood my vague comments better than I did. It was uncanny how he always seemed to understand what I was thinking or saying without me being very clear.

  “Big hearts don’t always get you everywhere.”

  “Everyone’s not perfect, Noah.” He leaned towards me. “And not everyone has a big heart. You’re the exception and not the rule, even though I wish that wasn’t true.” He paused, and gave me a look. “But you’re not God, Noah. You can’t protect everyone.”

  “You want me to tell Zane.” I sighed.

  “He has a right to know. You can’t just hide that from him.”

  “You just don’t understand. I think he’ll be devastated if he learns the truth. Growing up, he had so many issues and so much hatred towards our mom. And I just don’t want to see him go through any more unnecessary pain.”

  “You can’t not tell him because you’re afraid of how it will affect him. He’s a big boy.”

  “I don’t want him to feel any differently about me, either.” I made a face. “I know I’m being selfish, but I don’t want our relationship to change.”

  “It’s not your fault, Noah. He’s not going to blame you.”

  “It changes everything.”

  “It changes nothing.”

  “It’s a life-changing piece of information.” I took a deep breath.

  “Ha
ve you spoken to your mom?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I can’t respect her for what she did.”

  “Can’t you forgive her?”

  “She wants nothing to do with Zane.” I almost whispered the words. “I don’t know how she can distance herself like that.”

  “Love is a funny thing.”

  “I can’t accept it.” I shook my head vehemently. “I’ve witnessed first-hand the devastation that comes from not being wanted.”

  “It’s a cruel thing to do to a child.”

  “I won’t lose two people to that sort of devastation. I don’t want be a witness to two people being heartbroken from the pain and rejection of two people that should love them.” I jumped up as I saw Lucky and Betty approaching the door. “Need any help, ladies?”

  “We’re fine, thank you.” Lucky smiled at me gratefully as she walked into the room. She placed the teapot on the table and Betty followed behind her with a tray of cups and saucers. She gasped quickly and rubbed her belly in amazement and I stared at her with a worried expression.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, it’s great. I think I just felt the babies kick for the first time. Come.” She motioned me over to her and grabbed my hand and placed it on her stomach. “Let’s see if they do it again.” I stood there waiting for a few moments, but nothing happened. I let go of her stomach, slightly disappointed, and Sidney gave me a look.

  “It’s a good thing them babies didn’t kick again, you know how disappointed their papa would have been if he would have heard that news.”

  “He’d kill me.” I laughed. “After everything that has happened, this would be the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

  “You don’t want to break the camel’s back.” Betty poured the tea and handed me a cup. “Not when the camel just started walking again.”

  “Zane’s not that crazy.” Lucky shook her head at the offer of a teacup. “I’ll just have water, thanks, Betty.”

  “He’s not. But it’s a special moment. I’m sure he’d like to be the first to feel his babies kick.”

  “Yeah.” Lucky blushed. “About that, I think I was mistaken.” She giggled. “I think I had gas.”

  “Really?” I laughed as a tide of red covered her face.

  “Yeah.” She nodded. “I think it’s too early for the babies to be kicking. I’ll have to check with the doctor. I’m pretty sure what I felt wasn’t a kick.” She groaned. “Do not tell Zane, please. He’ll never let me live this down.”

  “Okay.” I smiled at her and ruffled her hair. “You owe me one.”

  “Now, children, are we going to talk about our documentary? Are all systems go now?” Sidney interrupted us and raised an eyebrow at me. “I’ve told my whole family about this film, and everyone in Chicago is waiting to see my ugly mug on the screen.”

  “You’re not ugly, Sidney,” Lucky protested while Betty rolled her eyes.

  “Don’t play into his act, Lucky.” She sat down next to me and handed me a plate with an assortment of cookies. I took a piece of shortbread and she nodded at me encouragingly to take another piece. “You’re a growing boy, Noah. Another piece of shortbread won’t stay on your hips like it does mine.”

  “What about me?” Sidney frowned and leaned forward to grab a cookie.

  “You don’t need any cookies.” Betty glared at him. “Think of your cholesterol. You know what Dr. Rothstein said.”

  “Dr. Rothstein doesn’t know everything.” Sidney sat back and looked at me with a ‘Well, this sucks’ face.

  “He knows more than you do.” Betty scolded him. “And he told you to stay away from cookies, cakes, fried dishes—”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He turned towards me. “So, I was thinking that it would be cool if you featured my other wife as well.”

  “Excuse me?” I looked at him in confusion.

  “I thought you could include my other wife in the documentary.”

  “What other wife?” I looked at Betty, who was mumbling under her breath.

  “The one I’m going to marry once I divorce Betty for not allowing me to eat the things I enjoy.” Sidney laughed, and Betty shook her head at him.

  “I swear, Sidney Johnson, you’re just like a little boy.”

  “Well, what do you expect if you keep mothering me?” He rolled his eyes.

  “I wouldn’t mother you if you acted your age and listened to the doctor.”

  “Doctors don’t always get it right. Didn’t I tell you how they cut off Louis’s right leg instead of his left because the doctor read the chart wrong? Now instead of only having one leg, he has none. And whose fault was that?” Sidney’s voice rose. “Not Louis’s, I’ll tell you that.”

  “Well, it was Louis’s fault that he let his diabetes get so bad that he needed to have any leg cut off.” Betty responded back to him with a stern look, and Lucky and I exchanged a quick smile at their banter. I decided to interrupt the conversation because I had a feeling that it was only going to escalate if I didn’t.

  “So, I was thinking that the focus of the documentary could be about identity.” I paused and realized that everyone was staring at me in interest. “Originally, the focus of this documentary was going to be on race and the civil rights movement, but I’ve been thinking and I want to expand our subject matter. Let’s be honest, our current audience is limited. Race is a sensitive subject, and not everyone can relate. Or, let’s be honest, not everyone wants to relate. I want people to understand that we’re all in this together. We all have issues related to poverty and identity and we’ve all faced them in different ways.”

  “You haven’t really had poverty issues though.” Lucky looked at me seriously. “And I don’t want to dumb down the documentary because it might make people uncomfortable. Let’s be real here, African Americans have had the worst assimilation experience in the United States.”

  “But that doesn’t mean that others don’t also have their own issues. As humans, we inherently care about other people. It’s in our nature. But we care more about what affects us in our everyday lives, and our families. So if we can create a piece that talks about the very real experiences that people have gone through related to identity, then we can reach more people.”

  “I guess I don’t understand. What identity issues are you talking about? I know you’re not going to talk about the issues of being a white male.” Lucky made a face and her voice was loud and obstinate. “Because we all know that the best thing to be in life is a white male.”

  “Some would say a white female.” I cocked my head and stared at her. “Doesn’t she control the white male?”

  “Women as a whole are seen as inferior to men.” Lucky’s voice grew agitated. “We’re seen as sex objects or domesticators. Men do not take us seriously. Not as a whole. And not every white female has power. What about the women that aren’t as attractive, or who grow up in poor environments, or what about those who are lesbians?”

  “Exactly my point. There are many denominators in everyone’s story. Yes, it’s true. You take a random white male and a random black male and it is very likely that the white male has had more advantage in his life. But it’s not true for everyone. To be born white and male doesn’t guarantee anything in life. To be born white, male, and with the last name Kennedy or Windsor may mean something else. But most of us don’t fit that mold.”

  “I don’t want to focus a historical documentary on the plight of white males.” Lucky looked at me with disappointment, and I held my hand up.

  “I think you’re misunderstanding me.” I looked at Sidney and Betty, who were both looking at me with interested looks on their faces. I smiled at them gratefully, glad that they didn’t look as upset as Lucky did at my suggestion.

  “Here’s the thing. I don’t want the focus to be about black or white. I want the focus to be on this. This is the trajectory of life for certain people. I don’t want to tell people this is the story of every black American, or the story of every white Am
erican. I want people to think, ‘Wow, this is a powerful story, and this is how it connects to my life.’ I want people to look at their everyday lives and realize how much they have in common with people that they would never think they had anything in common with. I don’t want this to be a black story about black people. I don’t want people to say, ‘Well, segregation is over, and that was the past. We’re past that now.’ It’s not true. And it’s not fair. I want people to see that this is a story about human beings and that our identities are made up of things that don’t matter. Our race doesn’t matter, our gender doesn’t matter, our bloodlines don’t matter. We should love and treat each other equally. At the end of the day, we need to see past these things. We need to understand that love, true love, the love that we should feel for each other isn’t or shouldn’t be based on things beyond our control.” My voice was loud and incensed as I finished talking and I sat back slightly embarrassed at how passionate I had gotten as I was talking. “Sorry, you guys can disagree with me. I just wanted to tell you my thoughts.”

  “I like your ideas.” Lucky grinned at me. “I think you’re right. We’ll reach a wider audience, and we won’t alienate as many people.”

  “Thanks.” I turned towards Sidney and Betty to see what they thought. I held my breath as I was slightly worried that they were going to be upset with me. I looked at Betty first and she gave me a warm smile. Her eyes shone at me with emotion and she patted my knee as if consoling me for the hidden feelings that she knew were trying to escape.

  “You’ve grown.” Sidney’s voice was serious and low. “I remember the boy that walked through my front door, so incensed about the injustice that I had been through, that many blacks have been through. The boy who felt my pain but didn’t quite understand the dynamics of that history. And now you’re a man, and you’ve got your own story, one that you want to tell, and I’m hurting for you inside. But behind that hurt is pride. I’m proud of you, my son. I’m proud of the man you’re becoming. I was proud of the boy you were. But I’m proud of the man you are becoming as well. Just don’t let what you’ve gone through break you. We love you, and we are all here for you when you’re ready to talk about it.” Sidney sat up slowly. “And I’ll tell you all one thing, one thing that hits home in this whole conversation. My life changed the day I stopped looking at myself as a black man first and foremost. I look at myself as a man and a husband. My race, as categorized through the eyes of others, doesn’t make up who I am. If someone chooses to be afraid of me, or to look down upon me, or think I’m uneducated, or inferior, well, that’s on them. That’s between them and their God. I don’t take on those stereotypes anymore. I’m not a criminal and I’m not inferior. I’m black and I’m God damn proud of it, but that doesn’t define my life. I won’t let that fear of what others are thinking or feeling about me control me. It’s taken me a long time to get to this place. My identity has always been that of a black man and what that means for me and for everyone around me. Now my identity is that of a loving husband and father.” He laughed. “Don’t get it wrong, though. I’ve only recently gotten to that place. But I’ve been angry and upset for too long now. I realized that God didn’t want me to carry that burden any longer.”