In Too Deep

by Dwayne S. Joseph

  It was midnight, and I had just finished doing some work on my laptop, and was getting ready to turn on the TV when my phone rang. Because I had been wishing for it all day, without hesitation, I grabbed at the phone, never even bothering to look at the caller ID.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s about time you answered my call.”

  Instantly aggravated, I said, “What do you want, Tina?”

  “To talk. How’s my little girl?”

  “She’s sleeping. Which is what I’m about to do. Call her back tomorrow night before she goes to bed.”

  “I miss you, Randy.”

  I breathed out into the phone for her to hear my frustration. “Tina, don’t start, okay. It’s late. I’m tired and not in the mood.”

  As always, she was relentless.

  “I bet I could get you in the mood.”

  “Tina . . .”

  “Don’t deny it, Randy. You know I could, just like I used to. I still know where your spot is. Does she know where it is?”

  “Monique, Tina. And don’t mention her again.”

  “You sound like you need a massage. Why don’t you sneak out and come over here and let me rub those strong shoulders?”

  “Stop talking shit, Tina. You know I’m not having that. Besides, aren’t you in Paris?”

  “The shoot ended earlier than expected. I’m back in New York. So you see, if you come over, I could show you how much fun you could be having.”

  “Jalisa’s here, Tina.”

  “So? Leave her with Monique.”

  “Monique’s not here,” I said, grimacing as I instantly regretted letting that slip from my lips.

  “It’s after twelve and she’s not there?” Tina asked in a mischievous tone. “My, my . . . is there trouble in paradise?”

  “No trouble.”

  “Then where is she?”

  I was about to snap on her, when the phone beeped, letting me know that I had another call.

  Monique?

  I looked at the time. It was going on twelve-thirty. Who else could it have been? I looked at the caller ID and sighed.

  “I have another call, Tina.”

  “I’ll hold on.”

  I resisted from cursing her out and clicked over.

  “Travis?”

  “Hey, big brother.”

  “Hey, little brother. I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

  I listened to my youngest brother sigh, and immediately I knew something was wrong, which didn’t surprise me, because he only ever called when something was wrong.

  Travis is gay.

  Not the in-the-closet or down-low type, but the flamboyantly I’m-flaunting-it-without-shame-for-all-the-world-to-see type. For as long as I could remember, he’d been gay. Growing up, he never liked doing any of the things that “normal” boys liked to do. He preferred Barbie dolls and Easy-Bake ovens over G.I. Joes and He-Man. When he played outside, he hung out with the girls and jumped double Dutch, instead of throwing the football with the guys or playing three-on-three on the basketball court. He liked to decorate sand castles instead of build them.

  I won’t lie: I was never happy that my youngest brother was gay. Actually, it bothered the hell out of me. Although it wasn’t common knowledge, it was obvious to everyone that Travis was a homosexual. Growing up, I used to get into so many fights over comments both guys and girls would make about my brother’s sexuality. I was constantly defending what I knew was the truth, and constantly coming to my little brother’s aid. It was embarrassing and difficult to deal with, and some days I wished he weren’t my brother. But he was, and although it wasn’t easy, I learned to accept reality for what it was. My mother did the same, and refused to treat him as anything but her son.

  Unfortunately, my father and younger brother, Abe, couldn’t deal with the truth, and for years they tried to ignore it, which, I’m sure, they would probably have done all their lives had Travis never come out of the closet during family dinner at sixteen years old. That day changed everything. Until that moment, Travis was my father’s son. But right after Travis made his announcement, that all changed.

  With the truth now out there and tangible, my father was no longer able to live in the denial he had been living in, and within a matter of seconds after the declaration, my father flew off the handle, and called Travis every demeaning name he could think of. He put him down relentlessly, calling him an embarrassment, a freak, a homo.

  “I will not have a homo living in my home! You are not my son!” he screamed.

  My younger brother Abraham and I sat silent while our mother yelled and cried for our father to stop with his vicious tirade. All the while, Travis sat stoic in his chair with tears streaming from his eyes, taking everything my father had to offer. Eventually the verbal assault just became too much and he got up from the table and left the house.

  Three days passed before he came back home. Our father wasn’t home when he did, so my mother took the opportunity to make sure his stomach was full. When he was done eating, he showered, put on fresh clothing, and then came into the bedroom where Abe and I had been sitting silently. He looked at both of us, but didn’t say a word. I could see in his eyes that he was looking for approval and support. Not knowing the right thing to say, I remained silent, and instead gave him a reassuring nod. Obviously, I would have preferred that he not be gay, but I’d come to grips with the fact that he was a long time ago, so I couldn’t turn my back on him, and that’s what I told him with my nod.

  I’ll never forget the smile of appreciation he gave to me right before Abe, who hadn’t said a word about Travis’s coming out since the dinner, finally reacted. There was so much happiness in that smile. In that moment, he seemed at ease. But that was only for a fleeting second, because before I even realized it was happening, Abe jumped up from his bed and gave Travis a vicious blow to the face, breaking his nose instantly. Older by six years, Abe knocked Travis down and pummeled him with numerous hate-filled left and right body blows until I wrestled him off. Abe tried to go at it with me, but, before he could connect, I wrapped him up in a bear hug and pinned him to the ground.

  Unable to break free from my grasp, he stopped fighting and just stared at our younger brother, and in a very quiet, yet lethal voice said, “Don’t ever speak to me again, you motherfucking faggot. You’re not my fucking brother.”

  Forcing his way out of my grasp, Abe got up from the floor and left the room, and left me alone to help my bloodied brother to the bathroom to clean his wounds. Abe never spoke to Travis again, while I’ve been helping to clean up his wounds ever since.

  My brother’s lifestyle isn’t the greatest and on one too many occasions, I’ve had to rescue him from ugly situations. Like I said, he’s really flamboyant and he doesn’t seem to understand that not everyone is willing to tolerate his boisterous ways. He’s been in and out of the hospital more times than I care to remember, because of being beaten up not only by pissed-off heterosexuals, but by the abusive boyfriends he’s had as well. Sometimes I couldn’t help but wonder if he was trying to commit suicide by living the way he did.

  “What happened now, Travis?”

  He sighed again and then very quietly said, “I need a favor.”

  “What’s new? What do you need?”

  “I need you to come and get me out of the hospital tomorrow.”

  “You’re in there again?” I shook my head. “What happened this time?”

  “I . . . had a fight with Paul.”

  “You’re still with that guy? I thought you would have learned your lesson after the last three times.”

  “Paul’s not bad, Randy. He has a very stressful job. Sometimes it’s just too much for him and he has to vent.”

  “How long are you going to let him take his frustrations out on you, Travis?”

  “Look, Randy, please spare me the sermon. I don’t need to hear it right now. Are you gonna pick me up tomorrow or not?”

  “Whatever, man. Your funeral. Wh
ere are you, and what time?”

  After getting the information from Travis, I hung up the phone, forgetting that Tina had still been on hold. The phone rang, reminding me. I reluctantly picked it up.

  “Sorry about that,” I said, unable to hide my frustration.

  “Baby, what’s wrong? I can hear in your voice that was a bad call.”

  “That was my brother.”

  “He still living like there’s no tomorrow?”

  “Only way he knows how.”

  Tina smacked her lips. She never cared for Travis. “Oh well,” she said. “When you choose to live in sin like that—”

  “Cut it, Tina.”

  Tina smacked her lips again. “Fine. Where did you say Monique was again?”

  I squeezed my temples and clenched my jaws. “Tina, I need to get some rest. If you want to talk to Jalisa tomorrow, call at an earlier time.”

  “Why are you avoiding the question, Randy?” Tina pressed.

  “Call Jalisa tomorrow,” I said, ignoring her. Before I hung up, I think I heard her say something about coming over. I hoped I was wrong.

  Monique

  Jazz whispered softly from my speakers as I sat in darkness alone with my thoughts. I was trying to get some work done. Lord knows I needed to, because ever since I left Randy, I hadn’t been able to focus and it began to show. I’d lost another case, and I was on the verge of losing another, and as bad as it is to say, I just didn’t really care.

  I was miserable.

  I had never fallen so hard for someone before, the way I had for Randy. He made me feel things that I thought were only possible on the movie screen or in between the pages of romance novels. No matter what I did or didn’t do, I couldn’t get him off my mind. I missed his smile and his gentle touch. I missed his annoying snoring and the nightly battles for ownership over the blanket. I longed for his good-bye hugs and hello kisses. My days just didn’t begin or end the same without them. I never realized how big a role he played in my life until he was no longer by my side.

  But it wasn’t just his habits and the comfort of knowing that he was there that I ached for. I had also become extremely close to Jalisa, and to not see her left me with an empty feeling inside that was different from the vacancy I felt over Randy. Without intending on it happening, I had become a mother. Jalisa and I bonded in a way she and Tina never would. It was me that she reached out for when she needed help, and it was me that she looked for when she wanted some attention. I missed not being there for her. Even more so, I missed her not being there for me, as her presence in my life was something that I had come to rely on. Just knowing that with each passing day, I was possibly losing the connection I had with her, made everything that much more frustrating.

  The CD changed and switched to an old Color Me Badd disc. It was set on random, and immediately started playing a song that went straight to my heart.

  Thinking back.

  I listened to the words in the song and thought about how everything used to be for Randy, Jalisa, and me. I thought about all of the moments the three of us spent together. Special nights in front of the television with popcorn, soda, and juice, watching Disney movies. Walking hand-in-hand through the park on sunny days. Despite Tina’s best effort at sabotage, nothing had kept us from becoming a family.

  I wiped a tear away from the corner of my eye. I was lonely without them. Lonely and angry. The more I thought about the whole situation and the way it affected everything, the angrier I became. I felt cheated. Cheated out of love. Cheated out of a family. Cheated out of happiness.

  Why the hell couldn’t Randy have just shut Tina up once and for all? Why did he have to be so damn nonconfrontational? Hell, a little fight every now and then was good for the soul, and after dealing with all of Tina’s antics, his soul needed a good cleaning out. I damn sure enjoyed my purification after I hit her.

  Thinking about that moment brought a tiny smile to my face. I had needed that release. After Randy and I argued about my having lashed out in front of Jalisa, I felt really guilty. But the more I thought about what I had done and the timing of it all, the more I realized Randy had been trying to protect her from too much. Jalisa was so much older than the five years she’d lived. Whether Randy wanted to accept it or not, she understood what kind of woman her mother was and wasn’t. Trying to shield her from a reality she’d long accepted was pointless. But that was one of the things that I loved and hated about him at the same time. He wanted so much for his little girl to have what too many minority children these days didn’t have—both parents involved in her life.

  Both he and I were fortunate enough to have been raised in a two-parent household. I didn’t realize it until I got older, but having both parents really helped mold me into the woman I’d become. I honestly admired what he was trying to do for Jalisa, but some battles, as valiant as they were, just weren’t worth the time and effort. Tina was not the woman that our mothers were, and she never would be. I know he knew that. I just wish he would have accepted it. When it came to Tina, I wish he wouldn’t have been such a good man.

  Randy

  After I hung up the phone with Tina, I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes. My head was hurting from all of the frustration.

  Frustration over Travis.

  Frustration over my father and Abe’s relationship with Travis.

  Frustration over Tina.

  Frustration over what had happened with Monique.

  I fell asleep with nothing but frustration running rampant in my mind. Had the doorbell not rung and woken me up, I would have remained sleeping until the sun rose. I lifted my head and looked at the clock and saw that it was almost two in the morning.

  Who the hell could it have been at that hour? Again my thoughts went to Monique. And again I was sorely disappointed when I looked through the peephole and saw Tina standing in the hallway.

  Shit.

  I hadn’t been hearing things.

  I opened the door.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here to give you that massage.” She walked past me, with a small bag in hand.

  “Tina, you need to leave.”

  “Why? Monique’s not here. If she were, she would have answered the door.”

  “Tina, you have to leave. Now.”

  “So what happened with you and the yellow bitch, anyway? Did you finally come to your senses and realize you’d been wasting time with her all along?”

  “Tina—”

  “You know I’m right, Randy,” she said, sashaying toward me. “I can give you everything you want and need. I have money, I have fame. Baby, I know what you like. Monique can’t do everything like I can.”

  As she came forward, I backpedaled slowly until my heel ran into the front of my couch, causing me to fall back into the cushions.

  “Why are you fighting the truth, Randy?” Tina asked, licking her lips seductively. She kneeled down in front of me and wrapped her arms around me. “You know how well we work together. How well we fit.” She put her hand over my crotch and despite my best effort to keep it from happening, massaged my manhood to life. Damn, if she didn’t always have good hands.

  “Jalisa’s asleep in her bedroom, Tina,” I said as goose bumps rose from my skin.

  Tina flashed a wicked smile. “I can be quiet, Randy. Can you?”

  “You need to go,” I tried again.

  “I can take good care of you, Randy,” she whispered.

  “I’m already taken care of,” I said, trying to find the willpower to remain strong. Of course, Tina knew I was losing the battle.

  She put her fingers to my lips. “Shhh. Let me show you how good it is. Let me give it to you like you remember it.”

  Suddenly her lips were on mine, and as much as my mind told me to, I didn’t pull back. I just opened my mouth and allowed her tongue to dance with my own. I can’t lie; I had been horny as hell since Monique had gone. Allowing what was happening to happen was wrong, but shit, I was tired of mas
turbating to adult movies on Showtime.

  I drove my tongue further into Tina’s mouth, and slipped my hand under her sweatshirt and grabbed her breast that hadn’t been confined by a bra. She moaned softly, making my manhood even harder, as I squeezed her nipples in a not-so-gentle manner. With no complaint from her, I lifted the sweatshirt and took her mounds into my mouth and ran my tongue over and around her nipples as if they had been coated with my favorite—strawberry jelly.

  Tina moaned, unbuttoned my shirt halfway, ran her hand over my chest, and then undid my belt, unbuckled my jeans, and slid her hand beneath my boxers. I got chills and almost couldn’t catch my breath as she stroked me slowly, expertly. Without words, she had me stand, and when I did, she slid my pants and boxers down to my ankles, and then took me into her mouth. I had to focus damn hard to keep myself from exploding as her tongue ran along my shaft and then rolled around the tip of my penis.

  Damn hard.

  Tina looked up at me and smiled as her mouth and hand worked in unison. I wanted to, but I couldn’t look away. I was her prisoner and my release wouldn’t come until I released. Goddamn, she wasn’t lying when she said she knew how to put it on me. But then so did Monique.

  Shit.

  Monique.

  “Stop!”

  Tina looked up at me with my penis in her mouth and mumbled, “Excuse me?”

  I reclaimed ownership of my quickly softening member and shook my head. I couldn’t believe that I’d gone there with her.

  Damn.

  I pulled up my boxers and zipped up my pants.

  Tina’s face was plastered with a look of complete and utter shock, and was getting uglier by the second. “What the hell is this all about?” she snapped.

  “Tina, you have to go.”

  “Go? What do you mean, go? How could you say that after what just happened?”

  “What just happened was a mistake. A slip in judgement.”

  “A slip—” She stood up and tried to take my hand in hers, but I wouldn’t allow it. “How could you say that was a mistake? What just happened was real. You know that.”

  “Tina, you have to go,” I said again. “This wasn’t supposed to happen, and it’s not going to happen.”