“I didn’t know you smoked.”
“I really don’t, but cigars and a blunt every now and then is cool. Let me get back to my story. So me and this mofo … his name was Dan or something nondescript like that … start talking. I decided to engage him in conversation because he had given me this wonderful-tasting cigar and ’cause I noticed the gold wedding band he was wearing. Big mistake,” Basil sighs.
“Why was that a mistake?”
“I start talking and he seems like a cool brother. Tells me he works on Wall Street as a vice-president for one of the brokerage firms. We talk about the market. I ask him for some stock tips and he grins and tells me he’s not going to jail just because he meets a good-lookin’ brother.”
“How did that make you feel?”
“By then I knew what was up. And that bugle blowing in his pants was a true sign. I had a couple of drinks, and I’m thinking if this mofo is married, then I don’t have to worry about him riding my jock, you know, after I bust the guts and move on.”
“So you were attracted to him?”
“Not really. But he was smart and I like it when a brother got his shit together. We talked about the markets and investments and how long it was going to be before the bull market faltered. He mentioned his loft in SoHo and his beach home in the Virgin Islands. But no mention of a wife. While he was talking, I kept looking down at his finger with the gold band. Just to let him know I wasn’t stupid.”
“Did he notice?”
“Not really. He was one of these mofos who obviously liked the sound of his own voice, so he wasn’t interested in nuthin’ I was saying.”
“So how was this a mistake? You met someone whose conversation you found interesting.”
“I’m gettin’ there, Doc. I’m gonna tell you. I guess I should get to why I’m so mad at myself. Long story, short. After a few more glasses of DP, I end up back at his loft. He tells me he has this awesome sound system, and a computer system that is linked to the foreign markets and some more cigars and vintage brandy. So I decide to check it out. Ole boy’s place was the shit. I mean, you could tell he was doing all right for himself. The walls were covered with expensive artwork and the loft had a view that was all that. Anyway after one drink, I asked Dan to let me check out the markets and he says, ‘Sure.’ So he leads me down this long, dark hallway. About halfway down he suddenly turns and said, ‘I’ve been dying to ask you this all night.’ Then he whispers, ‘Can I taste that love basket I’ve been staring at all night?’ ”
“What did you say to him?”
“I didn’t say fuck. I just whipped it out. He started sucking on it like my dick was pumping life into his ass. He pulls me to this bedroom and the first thing I notice is this big-ass wedding picture, with him and some dumb-ass sister. He pulls off his clothes and the body is kinda plump, but my shit is up so I’m ready to get off. But then …” Basil paused.
“What happened?”
“He whispers to me again. This time he says, ‘Fuck me like a woman.’ ” Basil turned away to the window with a look of disgust.
“How did that make you feel?” the doctor asked after a few minutes.
“Pissed me the fuck off. I pulled my pants up. Pulled my mutherfuckin’ dick out of his face and got the fuck out of his apartment.”
“Why did that upset you?”
“It just made me sick. Here is this married mofo begging for the dick, which I would have given freely, but then he started talking about treat him like a woman. I want to just bust him up side his head, but I didn’t.” Basil paused and looked at the doctor as if he were waiting for a sign. After a moment of meeting the doctor’s stony stare, Basil said, “So I guess I’m making progress, huh, Doc?”
“Do you think so?”
“Yeah. The fact that I didn’t hit him and that I went home and jerked my own dick off tells me I’m making a whole lot of progress,” Basil said as he got up from the chair and headed for the door.
27
Raymond had just closed a book on New York real estate law when the phone rang.
“This is Raymond Tyler.” He answered in his best business voice since he was expecting a call from the lawyer of Peaches’s landlord.
“Is this my man? I can’t believe I’m finally talking to you,” Trent said quickly.
“Trent, how you doing?” Raymond asked in a voice that sounded more like he was talking to a distant friend.
“I’m doing a lot better now that I’m talking to you,” he said.
“What time is it over there?”
Trent didn’t answer Raymond’s question. Instead, he started talking at a rapid pace. “Raymond, you have to come over here. This place is beautiful. Now I know why the white folks didn’t want to give up power! But, man, do our brothers need help with some things. The architecture is not that modern. This junior high we’re building will be one of the most modern pieces of architecture in the village. But the hotel I’m staying at, the Intercontinental, is tight. I mean it’s better than any hotel we’ve stayed in anywhere in the States. And the place where we’re building the school is called the Bopfa King Village. It’s about an hour and a half from Johannesburg and get this, baby, the king of the village graduated from Howard. Make sure you tell your pops that! I know he’ll be proud. And the king invited us to his compound for dinner and a wedding. Can you believe that! I’m going to a real African wedding.”
“That sounds real good, Trent. I’m glad you’re having a great time,” Raymond said. The chill in his voice could have air-conditioned all of South Africa.
“Yeah, boy, it’s just unreal, this place,” Trent said, oblivious to Raymond’s response. “We’re going to Capetown this weekend and I hear it’s even more beautiful than where I’m staying now. So how are you doing? How is Peaches? Jared? Nicole?”
“They’re all doing fine,” Raymond said.
“That’s great. You know what’s crazy? The people over here are the nicest people I’ve ever met and they are so interested in our culture. They seem to love African-Americans. Just the other day I was in this restaurant and they had Dru Hill blasting over the speakers. When I go to Capetown, I’m going to visit the jail at Robben Island where they held Nelson Mandela,” Trent said as he stopped to finally take a breath.
“Have you talked with Trent Jr.?” Raymond wanted to remind Trent about his responsibilities back in the States.
“Yeah, a couple of times. He’s doing fine. I want to bring him over here. And I want to bring you also. When can you come?”
“I don’t know. This thing with Peaches is going to take a little bit longer than I expected. How long do you think you’ll be there?”
“I don’t know. But I can get a trip home whenever I want. And you know I have to come through New York. Maybe I’ll make a trip to New York in the next week or two. I can’t tell you how much I miss you. Do you miss me?”
A few seconds lapsed before Raymond said, “Yeah, I miss you.”
“The only thing missing from this wonderful experience is not having you next to me when my head hits the pillow. What’s going on with the confirmation? Have they set a date yet?”
“Naw, not yet.”
“What’s going on? There aren’t any problems, are there?”
“No, not really. I’m trying not to worry about it.”
“Are you sure you’re all right? You don’t really sound like yourself.”
“What do you mean?” Raymond asked defensively.
“It’s just your voice. If I was there looking in your eyes, I would be able to tell. You’re sure everything is cool?”
“Not really,” Raymond said. His reply surprised him. He was not ready to talk with Trent about the information Lisa had shared. But he had promised Trent to always be open and honest. Then Raymond thought, Trent had made the same promise. So much for love.
“What’s up?” Trent’s voice was calmer now, finally focused on what Raymond was saying or, rather, not saying.
“I don’
t want to go into it right now. But we need to talk real soon and this is a conversation we should have in person,” Raymond said.
There was silence on the other end. After a moment Trent said, “Man, I can’t believe this. What is going on? And does this have anything to do with me? With us?”
“Trent, like I said, we need to talk about this in person,” Raymond said sternly.
“When? I’ll catch a plane tonight. I don’t like the way your voice sounds. You know you’re the most important person in the world to me. This project can wait. If my baby is upset, then I’m upset.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Raymond said. He needed to stall. He didn’t want Trent showing up in New York or Seattle before he could figure out what he wanted to say to him. “Let’s just look at our schedule and then plan it. What we need to talk about can wait. I’m busy and you’re busy.”
“Do you still love me?” Trent asked.
“Yes.” His quick response surprised him. Raymond knew that if he really loved Trent, one huge mistake shouldn’t destroy his love, but he also knew being analytical about it didn’t stop his pain.
There was a relieved sigh in Trent’s voice when he said, “I’m so glad to hear that.”
“Everything will be fine,” Raymond said. He had to appear strong, even though he felt tormented by the questions he had yet to ask Trent.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Look, you go on out and have a nice dinner. I’ll give you a call in the next couple of days,” Raymond said.
“That’s cool. As long as you still love me, then I’ll be okay,” Trent said.
“Okay, take care.”
“I love you and I miss you,” Trent said softly.
“Back at you,” Raymond said as he placed the phone back in its cradle.
Raymond decided to have a glass of wine to mull over his conversation with Trent, but before he headed toward the small kitchen in his suite, the phone rang again. Hoping it was Jared, he picked up the phone on the second ring. “Hello,” Raymond said.
“Raymond Jr.,” the familiar voice taunted.
“Pops. How you doing?” Raymond asked.
“I’m not doing too good. What is this shit your mother tells me about this man you live with hurting your chances for the federal bench? You need to get rid of him right away. If this kinda shit gets out, it can not only ruin your chances for the bench but fuck up the rest of your life. What was he doing to get arrested by an undercover cop?” There was not a drop of calm or fatherly love in his voice.
“Pops, I don’t want to talk about this,” Raymond said.
“I don’t give a damn if you don’t want to talk about it. If you didn’t want to talk about it, then why did you tell your mother? Now you got her worried about what kind of person you lie down with every night. If you’d listen to me, you’d kick his ass out and find some young lady who understands your problem, who’d be willing to work with you. I know a few men like yourself who have wives, kids, and successful careers. Them white folks don’t want you on the bench anyhow and this will give them the ammunition they need to keep you off!” His father’s words were rushed, making him sound out of breath and frantic.
Trying desperately to keep his voice soothing, Raymond said, “Pops, I didn’t mean to upset you or Mama. I just needed to talk to someone, and Lisa, the lady helping me through the confirmation, doesn’t think Trent’s arrest is going to be a big stumbling block.”
“Then both of you are the biggest fools I know living in Seattle,” Raymond Sr. said as his deep voice boomed through the phone line. Raymond Jr. felt a bolt of nervousness blast through his stomach as he remained silent. He didn’t understand why he was nervous instead of mad at his father’s words, attacking both him and the man he loved. He knew he wasn’t mad at his mother, but he was sorry he didn’t think before telling her about Trent. She was still a mother and a wife. She was only trying to help her child, like any mother. It didn’t help that her husband was the person she went to when she had a problem.
“Raymond Jr., are you still there? Did you hear me? Don’t try that silent bullshit with me. You need to finally stand up and be a man and get that boy out of your life. You owe that to me, your mother, brother, and the millions of people who died so you could have an opportunity like this. Being on the federal bench wasn’t even something my classmates and me could even dream of. And here you have it handed to you on a silver platter and you gonna let somebody who says they care for you fuck it up? As your mother says all the time, I don’t think so.”
If Raymond didn’t know his father was mad, he knew it when he used profanity. Raymond could count the times on one hand when he had heard his father use such words, but Raymond had heard enough. “Pops, I am a man and I will handle this. Trent and I will handle this. We don’t need you or anyone to help us get through this. I’m only sorry this has you so upset,” Raymond said calmly.
“Then prove it. And I don’t want to hear about what you and Trent are going to do. Matter of fact, don’t mention his name to me again. You need to do something about saving this nomination. Go to the senator’s office and tell her you’re getting rid of that criminal, that you’ve learned the error of your ways, and that you’re getting ready to straighten your life out.” Raymond could hear his mother in the background advising him to calm down or hang up the phone.
“Straighten my life out! Fuck that! And how do you propose I do that, Pops?” Raymond lost it. He had never used profanity toward his father or any member of his family, even when he was joking around.
“Don’t get smart with me. And don’t be cussing me, ’cause I’ll get on a plane and dare you to do it to my face! You know damn well what I’m talking about. This is important, Raymond. Do something. Stop letting people fuck over you, especially black folks.”
“Pops, I got to go,” Raymond said.
“Go where? I’m not through talking about this,” his father screamed.
Raymond didn’t respond. What he did surprised him and shocked his father. He hung up the phone without another word. Raymond was able to blink back the tears of sorrow and fury that sprang into his eyes. And that made him proud.
About thirty minutes after Raymond had hung up on his father, his phone rang again. Once again he hoped it was Jared, but he knew better. It was most likely his mother. By now she would have chewed his father out for his comments and would want to console her son. Raymond also knew that if he didn’t answer the phone, she would call back until she reached him. Raymond figured since he wasn’t going to sleep a wink, at least his mother should. But the phone stopped ringing, to Raymond’s relief.
His comfort was short-lived. Two minutes later the phone started to ring again and this time Raymond answered quickly.
“Hello,” he said with agitation in his voice.
“Whassup, yo?”
Raymond recognized the voice as the next-to-last person he wanted to speak with.
“Basil.”
“Yeah, I told you I was going to call you. Whatcha doing?”
“Looking over some work.”
“I hear tension in your voice. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. What can I do for you?”
“Maybe the first thing is telling me what I can do for you. Let me do something to get that tension out of your voice,” Basil said.
“I’m cool, but it’s kinda late. Can I give you a call later on this week?” Raymond wasn’t having any of Basil’s seduction bullshit. Not tonight.
“Naw, you sound like you need something and I ain’t trying to hear no. I know exactly what you need.”
Now Raymond was getting annoyed. He knew Basil was the last thing he needed. Raymond would have welcomed the Jehovah’s Witnesses before he would open his door to Basil.
“Basil, I don’t think I’m interested in what you think I need. I’ve got to go.”
“Now wait a minute. I ain’t talking about that. I’m calling to invite you to the gym. Let’s go work out.
”
“Work out? This time of night? And where are we going to do this? In your private gym?” Raymond asked sarcastically.
“I wish I had a home gym. Naw, I’m talking about a trip to World Gym. It’s open twenty-four hours and it’s only about six blocks from your hotel. A good workout will release some of that tension. And for the record—you’re the one with the mind in the gutter, Mr. Tyler.”
“But it’s past midnight,” Raymond protested.
“So?”
Raymond thought a minute. He knew after the phone calls with Trent and his father, sleep would be difficult, if not impossible. Maybe a tough workout would do the trick as well as a couple of drinks.
“Okay, give me the address,” Raymond said.
“It’s on Broadway between Sixty-fourth and Sixty-fifth and I think the address is 1926, right above the Saloon restaurant. Do you want me to swing by and pick you up?”
“Naw, the walk will do me good,” Raymond said.
“Then let’s say in a half hour.”
“I’ll see ya there.”
28
Basil bounced into his doctor’s office in a jovial mood.
“Wanna know why I’m in such good spirits?” Basil asked.
“Sure.”
“I spent the night with Raymond,” he smiled.
“And that made you happy?”
“Yeah.”
“How did that happen?”
“I just called him, and to be truthful, I didn’t exactly spend the night with him. The other night I was sitting at home thinking about how I could see him. I knew he’d put me off if I suggested we do dinner or anything resembling a date or an invitation for sex. Anyhow, you know how I go to the gym late at night?”
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