That Crazy Reality Show

by Natasha Kent

“What?” I asked.

  “The cameras.” He sighed and looked back at me. I glanced up.

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, you remember our talk at the park?” About the abuse.

  “Mm hmm.” I answered, calming down a bit.

  “Sometimes I wake up in the night after dreaming about it.” He looked so sad. Y’all know I just wanted to hold him and take care of him. But this was one of those times that a man needs to get out what he’s thinking without coddling. You know what I mean? He grinned in a nervous way, “It’s like, no matter how old I get…I just wish I could forget.”

  I shut my eyes for a moment and said nothing.

  “How can people be so-“

  “Unh-unh,” I interrupted, pointing at the cameras. He smiled real big and I thought I could see tears.

  “When I think of the way I was in school…”

  Hw was silent for a moment. “Matt, did our talk the other day stir up stuff?”

  “Oh God no,” he said, “that didn’t at all. It was the invitation.”

  I was clueless. “What invitation?”

  “Our parents were invited to come to the studio,” he said.

  “Do what?” This was news to me.

  “Yep, four sets of parents this week, and four the next. Didn’t you hear?”

  “Uh, duh, no,” I snorted. I got serious again and asked “Is he coming?” referring to Frank.

  “Probably. He’d never miss an opportunity to fuck something up. Especially if it involves me.”

  I stood there watching him. “You know, I’m really tempted to say something smart-ass right now.”

  That got a half grin. “Really.” He replied.

  “Sorry,” I said. “You know, I know why I do it.”

  “Why you do what,” he asked.

  “Why I try to be so humorous. I used to say that it was because I wanted others to forget their pain. Ugg. What a drama queen,” I said rolling my eyes. He laughed at that. “I guess the real reason…Never mind.” I almost slipped and let someone in.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Here you are about to see that animal and I’m going on about my nonsense.”

  “Well,” he said smiling, “can you at least tell me what the smart-ass thing was?”

  I grinned and in my country voice said, “I was just gonna say why don’t we hire a buncha wranglers to just go and beat the shit outta him!”

  He laughed at this. “Martin, please never stop being funny.” I smiled.

  “I’m a funny guy,” I said making a goofy face. “Wanna finish our workout?”

  He smiled at me. “Yeah. Then it’s hot tub city.”

  “Oh yeah? You wanna get into the hot tub with a known ho-mo-sex-shul?” This time I used my redneck voice.

  He laughed again. “As long as yer the ho-mo-sex-shul!”

  “Hey, that’s a pretty good redneck,” I said.

  “Oh, I’ve had years of practice.”

  “Yeah, you are a bit red, ain’t ya.”

  We finished our work out and got into the tub to relax a bit. “Sit on my lap?” I joked.

  “May be later.” When he flashes that grin....hoofa!

  The water felt great and after a few minutes Matt spoke up. “So that was our first fight, huh.”

  I busted out laughing. “You’re such a tool!” I kidded.

  He smiled and said (oh, wait—y’all will want to know where we’re sitting. At a comfortable “I’m not gay” distance – at least for Matt) “So what were you going to say earlier about making people laugh?”

  “Oh, that. I don’t know,” shaking my head.

  “Come on, Martin. I showed you mine now you show me yours.” There goes that killer smile.

  “Bastard.” I turned to one of the nearest cameras and said to it, “He really didn’t show me anything at the park.” Well he died laughing at that. “If he had, we’d’a still been there!” He laughed even harder at that.

  “Martin, I asked you a question.”

  “I don’t know…the reason I’m always a smart-ass is because…well, how do I explain this.” I leaned down and put my face into the hot, bubbling water. I looked back up and Matt was just watching me. “In school there were so many people that I hung out with, but only at school. It seemed every weekend my friends would have plans, but they never included me. I didn’t quite get it. We always had fun in school as a group but I couldn’t tag along?” This always made me, well, sad. “It wasn’t like I thought that they thought I wasn’t good enough, but the fact that they didn’t even think to ask—it hurt a bit.”

  “Did you ever say anything?” he asked.

  “No. I woulda felt stupid, and whiney.” He nodded at this a bit. “I guess that over the years my goofiness became a sort of defense mechanism.” I put my face in the water again and blew more bubbles. I looked up at Matt. “This is easy,” I smiled sadly, “but at the same time, it ain’t.”

  “How’s that?”

  I blew air out of my nose and looked over his head into the city beyond. “Because I do what I do to keep people off of their toes.” He looked puzzled. “Well, if I make a joke to or about someone or something then I don’t have to be serious about what I say, and they can either take it or leave it, never knowing if I’m being a jerk or not.”

  “So they don’t get to know the real you,” he said.

  “You got it!” I smiled. But it wasn’t a happy smile.

  “And what’s so bad about the real you?” he asked.

  “Well, something must be wrong. I’m alone,” I said to him.

  “Yeah, but that’s by choice. You keep people out. Who wants to try to get close to someone who isn’t letting anyone in. That’s not fair.”

  I put my face in the water again.

  “Dude,” I said to him, “after years of nobody trying, don’t you think I can take a hint?”

  “Hey Martin, no pity parties, k?”

  “I’m not. It’s just…I got used to keeping people at arm’s length, but I’m not mean about it. I use humor, and it’s just a habit, I guess.”

  “But you’re lonely. You said it.” I gazed down at the water.

  Smiling I said, “I’m lonely but I’m fun!”

  “Goober. Maybe if you’d take the time for someone, they just might take the time for you. And if they don’t, well then at least you tried. You can’t make anyone feel anything that they don’t, but you can at least try to be close to them.”

  “Yeah. But I can make ‘em laugh.”

  “I want more than laughter, though,” he said.

  I looked up at him. “Excuse me?”

  His eyes darted back and forth. “I mean, talking friend to friend…um…I want to laugh, sure, but I want to be serious too. Do you think I want to spend the rest of my life alone?”

  “Where did that come from. You’re confusing me again, Matty.”

  “What I’m saying is that…I’m changing. I’m not the same guy as a year, or even two, ago. I want more in life. I keep telling myself to keep reaching, keep learning. Strive more, Matt, I say. I used to want to be alone. Let’s face it, I didn’t have great relationship role models, if you know what I mean.” I shook my head as he continued. “I just want…normal. That’s all. And I think that’s what you want too, at least I think that’s what you’re saying. And I’ll tell you what, there are some things that are hard to say when you haven’t said or done them before. But I’m trying. You’re a great guy who says what he thinks; there’s no reason not to have someone in your life. Sometimes we need a little nudge to change. Is what I’m saying making any sense?”

  “For the most part, yeah,” I said.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to sound like a prick, but did you ever think that maybe the problem wasn’t the other people? Maybe you should have asked them, seen if there was any reciprocation.”

  I thought about this for a bit. “True,” I nodded.

  He sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”


  “Hey man, friends ramble. That’s how we get to know each other.” I leaned closer to him and said with a smile, “Just don’t call your friends a pussy.” He splashed water in my face to shut me up.

  “So when are the ‘rents coming for a visit?” I asked.

  “Tomorrow night,” he said. You could tell he was dreading it.

  “You gonna stick around?” I asked him.

  He looked me dead in the eye and said, “I’ll never, ever run away from Frank.” Whoa! Case closed!

  We sat in silence for a minute when I realized that “You know, I have no idea what you do for a living!”

  He laughed. “That’s ‘cause you never asked me.”

  “Geeze, no shit! You're right. So what do you do?” I asked.

  “I’m a g.c.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A general contractor. I’m the guy you look up in the phone book if you need stuff done around the house; tilework, new windows, if you want to add a room or just add onto your house, that kind of thing.”

  “Hey man,” I said “that’s awesome. You ever work on any really old houses? I always thought it’d be cool to restore and live in an old Victorian. Been to Inman Park yet?”

  “Yeah, man, that’s where I live,” he said.

  “Oh, you’re kidding! I’ve always loved that neighborhood. How cool is that,” I said. A little history about Inman Park (so’s ya knows). It’s billed as Atlanta’s first “Garden Suburb” and was developed in the 1880’s, if I recall correctly. A trolley line would take you east out of Atlanta to what was then an area considered way out in the country, along Edgewood Avenue. It’s a really big neighborhood with blocks and blocks of Victorians, big and small, all different. As most cities during the 50’s and 60’s it faced some serious decline and many of the fine homes became dilapidated.

  I think it was in the 80’s that the Jimmy Carter Library was proposed near the northern edge of the neighborhood at the same time that a lot of those horrible people with money (I’m saying this tongue in cheek) had the audacity to spend time, effort and money to start restoring many of the old homes. A highway was designed to bring patrons to the Library, and guess where it was planned! Yep, right through Inman Park. Literally, blocks and blocks of houses were destroyed for the road. Yeah, because so many people would be killing themselves to get to this library, right? This destruction got people rallying and believe it or not the road was re-routed.

  Over the years, those same people have done a fantastic job fixing up the area. Every year they have a festival of homes and about fifteen to twenty houses each year are opened up for public tour. It’s really cool because you can see the different ways that people renovate; some do a full restoration while others completely gut the interiors and modernize.

  “What kind of house are you in? Is it a bungalow?” I asked him.

  “Oh, God no. It’s a pretty big house.”

  “Oh yeah? How long have you lived there?”

  “Well it was my grandparents’ house. They lived there for forty-five years, I think, and they left it to me when they passed away,” he said.

  “Wow, forty-five years,” I repeated. “How come they didn’t leave it to your mom?”

  “Because they were my real dad’s parents. I think they felt sorry that he pretty much vanished once my parents divorced. They remained active in my life and I was able to spend a lot of time growing up with them,” he told me.

  “Well that’s cool.”

  “Yep.”

  “You know there’s one house I’ve always loved. I don’t know what street it’s on, but the street’s parallel to Edgewood…it’s a big ol’ barn of a house with a porch upstairs and a round tower on the corner of the house. The roof over the tower looks kinda like a bell. I think it’s being restored now so you’ve probably seen it.”

  “Hmm, it sounds familiar. Maybe you can show me sometime,” he said.

  “Do I get to ride in your truck?” I asked.

  He chuckled at that. “Well yeah, I don’t see why not.”

  “Can I ride ‘bitch’?”

  He laughed at that. “What’s riding ‘bitch’?”

  “You know, you see these good ol’ boys riding around in their trucks with their girlfriends sitting right in the middle instead of in their actual seat. It’s called riding ‘bitch.’” I said.

  Laughing a bit more at that he said, “Dude, where do you come up with this shit?”

  What me??? “Well,” I said standing up, “I have a cd to listen to. I’m gonna hit the shower. I like my eggs scrambled and my toast with jam.”

  “Me too. Let’s see if we can find someone to make it.” We both laughed at that.

  I held out my hand for him to shake and we did the three-pat-on-the-back “I’m not gay” man-hug and told him to let me know if he had more nightmares. He held on a bit longer than I expected, our wet chests pressed against each other. Hey, I was just giving him a supportive hug, I didn’t plan this! But then he let go and said “Thanks, buddy,” and we headed back down stairs.

  My head was spinning. I needed a cold shower, dammit!

  * * * *

  After my shower, which felt great, I grabbed my walkman and the cd and went upstairs (again) to sit on the patio. It was still early and looked like it was going to be a gorgeous day. I tell you what—Eddie had put a great cd together. I’d have to thank him when I saw him again. The songs all brought me back to the great times I had in school…

  I must’ve fallen asleep because I woke up with a start, still sitting in the chair on the patio. The cd had already finished and as I shook the cobwebs from my head I heard someone open the door to the patio. It was Amanda.

  “Hey there gal,” I said. “How’s it goin’” I yawned.

  “Sleepy?” she asked.

  “Oh man, I must’ve fallen asleep. Hey check this out,” I said showing her the cd.

  “What is it?”

  “Eddie made it for me.”

  “Eddie?”

  “Yeah. It’s great but look at the songs.”

  She read through the titles. “Am I supposed to see something?”

  “’I Want To Know What Love Is, If You Were Here, Something About You.’ It’s like he’s trying to tell me something,” I said.

  “Who, Eddie?” she said, surprised. “Huh.”

  “Well you’ve seen the titles, who else would I think it’d be? He’s the one who knows about all of that electronic shit,” I told her.

  She sat there looking at me and shook her head. “Mikey, you know sometimes you’re as dense as lead.”

  “What?”

  “Why did God make so many man blind,” she muttered. “Here,” she said, and she handed me another cd case.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “Duh.”

  “I mean where’d you get it?”

  “Read it, ding-bat.” What a bossy chick!

  It read: “Martin, Some things I don’t want the cameras to catch. You’re braver than I am. Enjoy my second cd. (smiley face) Remember—music always has something to say. S” I was stunned! I looked up at Amanda who had a sheepish grin on her face.

  “You mean?” I stammered.

  “Mike, you really need to sharpen up a bit,” she laughed. I couldn’t believe what she was telling me. I about broke the second cd trying to get it into the player. I hit start and heard some seductive breathing and electronic drums.

  Looking up at Amanda I said, “Oh my God! I know this song!”

  “What is it?” she asked. I just listened to the song.

  “It was raining when I met you,

  You were soaking wet, no time to be impressed.

  And I remember so much later on,

  I knew that you were someone I would not forget.

  Everybody’s searchin’, hungry for the glamour,

  You know too many hearts are in a rush,

  No matter how you try to

  You can’t explain the places you find love.


  I can’t explain. But I can feel it, all around me.

  The need to find the place where feelings can be safe.

  It’s not money that buys happiness,

  No it’s not the shine of silver that puts the heart to rest.

  Everybody’s pushin’, the clock is always runnin’

  And no one ever seems to have enough.