by Unknown
“There’s really nothing to tell, Laurie. We dated for a year, maybe a year and a half and I found out he was gay. That’s about it,” Sill said.
“Did you love him?” Laurie asked.
Sylvia hesitated. “I’m not sure. You know I never really thought about it. He was just there and I pretty much figured he would always be there but I never really asked myself that question. And, when I found out he was sleeping with a man, I was so angry that I still didn’t ask myself if I loved him. I do miss him, though.”
“Well, did you sleep with him?” Laurie probed.
“No, we never slept together. Matter of fact, I was trying to seduce him one night and that’s when I discovered it.”
“So, you mean to tell me that you spent a year and a half with this fool and you never slept with him? C’mon Sill, fess up.” Laurie couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“It wasn’t like that, Laurie. The two of us did everything together. I mean everything. We just enjoyed being around each other,” Sill said in her own defense.
“So, what you’re tellin’ me is that you broke up with him because he wouldn’t sleep with you but he was your best friend,” Laurie asked, incredulously.
“Yeah, I guess you could say he was my best friend. Do we have to talk about this?”
“No, not really. I can see it’s still pretty painful but can I say one last thing?” Laurie asked. “Girlfriend, I’m not tryin’ to sound like white people, tryin’ to cover up their own prejudice when they say one of my best friends is Black. And I don’t have a whole lot of gay friends so I really can’t generalize but I have one friend who just so happens to prefer men over women and he’s probably the best friend I’ve got. He’s the sweetest person in the world and I’m not being factious when I say sweet. So, I could care less about what kind of sex he prefers ‘cause Lord knows I got some kinky shit in me but I wouldn’t trade his friendship for anything in the world. I’m sure it’s probably different when you’re in a relationship and tryin’ to get your sex on but girl, good friends are hard to find and if you find one good friend in a lifetime you can count yourself lucky. Now, with that said, are you ready to go? I know momma’s got the food on the table and I’m about starved.”
Sylvia thought about what her cousin had said later as she showered and packed her overnight bag. Good friends were hard to come by. Again, her thoughts returned to Peter. Lord knows she had never had a better friend. She even considered calling Dr. Marchus under the pretense that her mother was in town and wanted to see Peter. Marchus would surely know his whereabouts and he would surely come then and perhaps they could resolve the problem. On second thought, maybe it would be better they wait until they were home before inviting him over.
Forty-five minutes later, Laurie and Sill pulled up at her aunt’s home outside of Atlanta. Sylvia had never been to their new home and didn’t know what her uncle had done for a living but he sure had provided nicely for his family before he died.
The house which sat back on several acres of land was palatial. Marble floors and crystal chandeliers met Sylvia as she entered the spacious home. A young, Hispanic woman about Sylvia’s age answered the door, welcomed them and led them to the dining room where Mrs. Shipp and her sister were already dining.
“Well, nice of you two to finally join us,” Sill’s aunt said. “I hope Laurie hasn’t been too bad of an influence on you.”
“Not at all, we were just reminiscing, getting caught up,” Sill replied.
Laurie kissed her mom and her aunt.
“What’s for dinner? I’m starved,” she confessed.
The evening turned out to be far more fun than Sylvia could ever have imagined. After a dinner in which Sylvia ate far too much, the four ladies played Guesstures and chatted until the wee hours of the morning. It seemed to
Sylvia that no sooner had she closed her eyes than the warm smell of bacon singed her nose. Laurie was already up and in the shower and Sylvia had all she could do to drag herself out of bed and into the bathroom when she heard her aunt’s voice. “Church starts in thirty minutes. You ladies need to get a move on, if you expect to get breakfast and a good seat. Hurry up now. Laurie, you know how I hate to be late.”
Sylvia finally found the main bathroom after opening what seemed like a thousand doors. There were rooms and more rooms. She hadn’t seen the house in its entirety the night before but soon realized that she was in a mansion if there ever was one. Donning the navy blue Christian Dior suit she had purchased a few weeks ago with the hope of impressing Peter, Sylvia made her way down the stairs and met the approving eye of everyone there. Her mom and aunt were already at the door while Laurie waited impatiently in the car. Five minutes later, the four women arrived at John Wesley A.M.E. Zion Church’s parking lot. She never imagined a church of this size and magnitude. There must have been a thousand cars in the parking lot alone. Once inside, she found there to be even more people than there had been cars. The church was enormous and Sill just hoped, no, she knew that this many people couldn’t be coming to hear some illiterate jack-legged preacher hoopin’ and hollerin’ as she was so used to.
To her surprise, the minister was no more than thirty or so and not only was he eloquent in his delivery he was quite handsome as well. No one turned to see the newcomers; there were no hostile stares, no routine genuflecting, no hoopin’ and hollerin’. There was nothing but a simple well thought out message on loving thy neighbor which not only addressed the congregation but spoke in terms of American as a country, a superpower and a leader being more tolerant of others in spite of their differences.
The young minister addressed the escalating violence in the Middle East and the war in Iraq. He questioned patriotism and religion and sought to ask the tough questions.
He asked the congregation if we were as a nation unpatriotic because we did not support the war in Iraq. He questioned the war fitting into the Judeo-Christian doctrine which this country was founded on. He concluded by asking the congregation, “If Jesus were alive today, would he be considered treasonous or unpatriotic for not supporting military intervention in Afghanistan or Iraq? For not supporting war?
And then he went on, “I have the Good Book right here in front of me. And in this book which governs most of our lives I am unable to find one passage, not one single reference, where it says that out Lord and Savior Jesus Christ condoned war. I can find passages where he grew angry. I’m okay with that. We all grow angry at times. After the initial shock of 9/11 I grew angry too. How many of you out there were angry and felt like your privacy had been invaded? Sure, you were angry. But let me digress for a minute. How many of you have ever been to the doctors and he tells you to jump up onto the examination table. After you get up on the table, the doctor takes this little hammer with a rubber tip and pow, he bangs you on the knee with it and your knee shoots straight out. No matter what you do to keep that leg from moving when the doctor hits that one spot there’s nothing you can do to stop that leg from jumping out, from reacting. That’s a natural reaction. I believe they call that a knee-jerk reaction. It’s natural and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. That’s how anger is. It’s a natural reaction to something or someone that offends us in some way. Many times we can’t stop it. It’s a natural reaction. But we do have the ability to think and reason and we must use these capabilities to determine how to react after the initial anger has subsided. It is at these times when we must ask ourselves, what would Jesus do? Now, my friends, I didn’t want to steer you wrong so I spent the week searching the Good Book. And again, I cannot find one passage where our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ said it was alright to go to war and kill another man.
Now, I can find passages in the Old Testament where Moses descended from the mountaintop after having had some pretty meaningful dialogue with God the Father. During this dialogue the Father gives Moses some fairly stringent guidelines on what we are to do and what we are not to do. I believe they refer to them as the Ten Commandments. Let
me read just a couple of them to you. The first one I’d like to read to you refers to the lesson we’ve talked about today and that is, Love thy neighbor. I’m not going to read the second part of that because some of us don’t love ourselves so I’ll be satisfied with love thy neighbor even if you don’t love yourselves. The second commandment, which I think is equally as important however, and is in direct correlation with today’s service is, Thou shall not kill. Now, the way I interpret the commandments is a little different than the way Moses may have.
In fact, I do believe that Moses may have had some trouble with the translation since from all accounts he was pretty shook up when he saw that bush burning and heard that voice calling out to him especially when he knew that no one had accompanied him up that hill. That’s why I tend to think he may have had some problems with his interpretation.
You see it seems to me that a couple of the commandments are just a little redundant and I have never known the good Lord to be either long winded or redundant so it is my belief that Moses may have misinterpreted the message just a bit. You see if we love our neighbor as we love ourselves then there is no need for the commandment which says, Thou shall not kill. If you follow my reasoning let me hear you say Amen” A loud raucous chorus descended upon the pulpit amidst laughter as the congregation shouted, “Amen” in unison. But he wasn’t finished. “And therefore, if we as a nation who pride ourselves on our Christian heritage believe in these basic tenets better known as the Ten Commandments then we must find a way to love our neighbors in spite of the atrocities and we must a better answer than war to solve our differences. That is what I have learned from the teachings of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. If you tend to agree can I get an ‘Amen’?
Again there was a resounding chorus of ‘Amens’from the congregation.
“In summation, and before we answer the broader questions I want each and every one of you, as you go through your week to ask yourselves while at work, or at school, or at home with your families to ask yourselves how you are treating the people next to you, closest to you, your neighbor. Ask yourself this and as the trials you incur in every day life descend upon you I want each of you to reflect on the life of our Savior and ask yourself what would Jesus do. Don’t just slap the armband on your wrist or put the letters WWJD on the license plate of your car. Live it! Let it be the recurring thought as you go about your daily ventures. Make it a mantra. Repeat it throughout your day as you proceed from your homes to school or to the workplace. Ask yourself: What would Jesus do?” And with that the minister closed the book in front of him and nodded to the choir who broke into a lively rendition of Joyful, Joyful followed by We Are the World.
Sylvia smiled. She was moved by the whole experience, not deeply but moved nonetheless and walked away feeling a sense of renewal.
There was life after Peter she surmised. Here was Laurie extending a hand of friendship and a church and minister who breathed new signs of hope where all had been lost only a day or so earlier and Sylvia found herself feeling rejuvenated as she followed her cousin downstairs into the basement of the church. Here they found groups of people congregating in small clusters singing praises to the Lord while others gathered to discuss the sermon. Still, others busied themselves with the many pastries that crowded the banquet table against the far wall No sooner than Laurie hit the room she found herself surrounded by a host of adoring young men.
Turning to look for her cousin Laurie found Sill occupied by a rather congenial looking fellow. So this was Sill’s type. He was tall and muscularly built and had a certain charm and swagger about him but Lord knows the brotha couldn’t dress. Laurie had never seen him before but was glad that Sill had found someone to talk to and was not alone. There was nothing worse than being in a room full of people and not knowing anyone. What she didn’t know was that Sill had fallen for the tall gentleman the first moment she laid eyes on him. And he her.
CHAPTER 8
Three months later they were married. And though her parents accepted their daughter’s choice they agreed that she didn’t have that same sparkle in her eye that she’d had while dating Peter and both questioned her love for William. Mrs. Shipp believed that she was only marrying him to get about Peter. And Mr. Shipp had little or no opinion on the subject when he found out that William didn’t fish.
In the beginning the union between the two was everything Sylvia could have asked for. It seemed obvious that they truly enjoyed each other’s company and William Stanton—that was his name—had never been more ecstatic than he was with the vibrant and vivacious woman he’d chosen for his wife.
Not only was she beautiful and bubbly, she was bright and unbelievably sexy. And that made not only her made her more attractive to him but being that he was making significant strides climbing the corporate it made her a boon to him as well. The last thing he wanted to do was marry a nobody, who was content to remain a nobody with little or no aspirations of growing, and seeking new heights for herself. He hardly had to worry about that with Sylvia who after completing her Bachelors and teaching for a couple of years was insistent on acquiring her Masters in Education despite William wanting to spend some quality time with his newlywed before either of them embarked on any new endeavors.
When he finally convinced her to take off a year or two and concentrate on the house and their marriage she did so reluctantly and simply changed her focus from her own career goals to her husband’s. Much to his surprise she was as adamant about his career goals as she’d been about her own. She insisted that he begin thinking about acquiring his own clientele instead of continually feeding the company’s stockpile and receiving what amounted to a mere pittance in her eyes.
Loyal to a fault and lacking the insight, the intuition and self-confidence to move beyond corporate confines, of being little more than a company man, William Stanton was grateful for the opportunity at this stage in his career to just be working for such a distinguished firm as Hill and Morris. He could hardly understand his wife’s not being thankful when he did his best to provide the best of everything for her. But the expensive and jewelry he purchased from Jacobs for her whenever he could usually went unnoticed.
For whatever reason, Sylvia hardly ever seemed to be impressed no matter what the price of an item and seemed to be just as content to don a pair of old faded Levi’s and a sweatshirt as to throw on a Versace suit and a pair of Gucci loafers. The diamond studded necklace in the platinum setting he had custom made for her had all but wiped out his savings account and although she’d oohed and ahhed initially she’d only warn it one time and that was at his request.
He was soon coming to realize that what made most women happy had no effect on Sill at all. She was just as happy curled up in front of the fireplace at home reading a Zora Neal Hurston novel or a play by Wole Soyinka as she was stepping out to the opera or dinner at one of the plethora of hot new supper clubs springing up all over Atlanta’s perimeter.
William, on the other hand felt more comfortable being out with Sill, sipping and mingling with a crowd than being cooped up in the house discussing some book or God forbid politics. All too often she tended to be all too knowing, too sensitive, too righteous but most of all, too damn liberal.
She was always preachin’ and proselytizing and acting as if he was one of her students instead of her husband when the fact of the matter was she didn’t make enough to make change let alone make a change.
Out in public amongst friends everybody loved him. And he could hold his own, diplomatically speaking. Always on cue, with a short funny well placed anecdote he had a great sense of humor and was never off color. And he’d learned to be cordial. Mingling and grinning even when he saw little humor in a remark his associates considered outrageously funny. William knew that that was essential to every marketing rep as well as a mainstay in the codebook for Black Republicans. Sometimes, even this became burdensome but it was still a far cry from sitting home with Sill on a Friday night discussing Baldwin’s, The Fire Nex
t Time.
At other times he had to sit and smile as he watched her devour book after book while he fought to remember the last book he’d read. Then other times lost in her own little world he wondered if she wasn’t just a bit too bright and remembered the words of his daddy who proclaimed that too much book lear-nin’ wasn’t good fer nobody’ and especially a niggra.
Yet, to be in her mere presence and to know that she was his and his alone, brilliant, untouched, and virginal was enough for William. To have her walk in and out of their library in her sheer silky lingerie feeding him late night snacks or to have her sit with her pretty legs propped up, her thick brown thighs cascading from beneath a violet or taupe tunic, firm pendulous breasts dangling from her camisole was enough to make William give praise to the gods. And though for some reason she had not been exactly receptive when it came to the act of lovemaking itself, William was sure that after some thirty odd years of virginity, the deflowering of this tree would certainly take more than the seasonal wind of a new marriage and so he accustomed himself with the occasional petting unless she had far too much to drink and then any slow refrain was gone and she was like an imprisoned tiger suddenly released from captivity, so ferocious was she in her response.
At first he had seriously thought she was frigid. But following one of ol’ man Morris dinner party he knew that even though she seemed to have some sexual issues, once he got past the wild laughter and the crying spells which all too often went hand-in-hand he had a wildcat on his hands. He had to admit that it scared him at first. The faraway look in her eyes was disturbing but anger she exhibited and the way she tore at his flesh made him wonder. Still, being little more than a novice himself when it came to sex he took it all in stride and only dreamed of the next time. He lusted after her nightly thereafter but to no avail.