That Crazy Reality Show

by Natasha Kent

  “Damn, Martin,” he said. Matt pulled my face to his and kissed me a lot more passionately than when the peach dropped. Damn what a kisser! We broke our kiss and sat back. “What are they?” he asked. The lighting outside was sort of dim and romantic so he was having a hard time seeing them.

  “They’re both platinum.”

  “Wow. I thought they may have been white gold in this light.” I handed him one ring.

  “I had them engraved.” Holding the ring in his fingers he looked up at me. “Yours says ‘One Heartbeat,’ mine says ‘Different Names.’ It might sound kinda dopey but I thought that it described us,” I nervously smiled and said.

  “Put it on,” he said. I went to put my ring on. “No. Put mine on me.”

  Duh! I’m so slow sometimes. I took his ring from him and slipped it onto his left ring finger. “One heartbeat,” I said. With his other hand he wiped at his eyes.

  Then he took my ring and slipped it on my finger. “Different names,” he said looking into my eyes. I leaned in and kissed him again. We leaned our foreheads together.

  “I love you, Matt Wellington,” I said.

  “I love you too, Mike Martin.” Suddenly he jumped up and shouted: “I LOVE….THIS MAN!!!!” I had to die laughing as he mimicked a recent commercial that we’d seen on television. That sure got everyone’s attention.

  “Um Matt, I think we already knew that,” Albert said, leaning against the door frame going into his house.

  “Just wanted to be sure,” Matt said. I just kept laughing.

  “So what’s up with y’all now?” Albert asked, coming over to us.

  “Mike just gave me a ring.”

  “Oh yeah? Cool.” Now there’s a man of many words. “Congrats, y’all! So I guess I’m not in the running anymore?” he joked.

  “Sorry pal, he’s all mine,” I said pulling Matt to me.

  “Damn!” he snapped his fingers in mock anger. We both laughed at him.

  Matt and I stayed a little while longer but left around 1:00 to go back home. Luckily we were only about twenty minutes from home because Matt kept groping me and working me up the whole way home. We barely made it up the stairs and into the bedroom with our clothes still on. He was like a mad man. First he made love to me with as much, if not more, passion then he’d ever done before. Afterwards he kept rubbing me and feeling me up until I was ready to go again, but this time he wanted me to make love to him. Needless to say I obliged. Once I had finished cumming in his ass he pulled off of me and pushed me onto my stomach on the bed and then proceeded to tear me up. Goddamn that bastard was really pounding at me. I doubted if I’d be able to walk right the next day. Because he’d already cum once his duration was seemingly endless. I didn’t mind. Literally I just lay there while he fucked into me with all the gusto he had. My cock had hardened again and with all of the rubbing into the mattress I blew my second load about thirty minutes after he started givin’ it to me the second time. This got him to the point of no return and he blew his cum, or what was left of it, into me. Finally he collapsed on my back and held onto my shoulders, breathing heavily.

  “I love you. So. Fucking. Much,” he panted.

  I smiled to myself. “I love you too, Matty,” I mumbled before I drifted off to sleep.

  * * * *

  The phone was ringing. Goddamit why do people have to call me this early? It’s 8:30. Shit! 8:30! Okay, so that was a little later than I had been getting up. But I still hate mornings. Even Matt knows to leave me alone for about an hour before he’ll talk to me. I picked up the phone.

  “Hello?” I said, trying to not sound like shit. It wasn’t easy. I definitely sounded like shit.

  “Can I speak to Matt.” It was more said than asked. I tried to place the woman’s voice. It sounded vaguely familiar.

  “Sure. Hold on please.” I looked over but Matt wasn’t in bed. “Matt?” I hollered towards the bathroom. No answer. “Just one sec. Lemme find him.” No response. I made my way downstairs and looked around for him. He was in the kitchen fixing breakfast. “Hey man, phone.”

  He picked up the kitchen extension and I hung up. “Hello?….Well, hey, how’s it…say what?” his face fell and the spatula clattered to the floor. He walked slowly out of the kitchen towards the front of the house. I followed him, giving him a little bit of space. “No, I…I’m here.” I stopped at the doorway to the study and he leaned with his back against the wall across from the stairs. “I just. What happened?” he asked as his voice cracked. His eyes tightened and he slid slowly down to the floor. Matt’s other hand was on his forehead and I could see his mouth turning down as the tears rolled off of his face. “How?….Oh God!” his voice wavered. I’m on full alert now but I stayed where I was. “Do you know…did he know or was it sudden…Mom. Mom…did he KNOW what was happening?” His eyes tightened again and fresh tears streamed down. Suddenly his demeanor changed and his eyes snapped open. “It’s his fuckin’ fault. He did this. You’d better keep him away from John…then FIGURE OUT HOW!!!”

  Shit! I’d never seen him this angry. Sure he’d gotten irritated at our trades from time to time, but I was the one who usually showed temper. With me it comes from having an Italian and Irish background. Matt, on the other hand, was one of the most level headed guys on the planet.

  He clicked the phone off and tossed it across the foyer, then he sat there just staring into space.

  I waited for him to speak. “John’s dead.”

  “Oh God!”

  “He was beaten and stabbed to death,” the tears were really cascading down his cheeks. “Bad trick. Mom said the police think it was a blitz attack. They don’t think he knew what hit him.”

  I took a deep breath and blew it through my nose. “When did it hap—“

  “Early this morning.” He shook his head slightly, raised his eyebrows a bit and said, “It’s his fault, you know.”

  “Do what?” I asked, puzzled.

  “It’s his fault. And he’s gotta pay.” He stood up and wiped the tears from his face.

  “Matt! He’s dead…how can he possibly—“

  “I’m talking about Frank, Mike. Goddamn, don’t you get anything without having it explained to you!”

  I blinked and raised my head a bit, but I didn’t say anything. I knew that Matt hadn’t seen John in years. They had spoken on the telephone a few times and Matt tried to convince him to go into rehab but to no avail. Matt’s sister had never really been in touch with him either. Sadly, it looked like his life of drugs and prostitution had caught up with him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to…”

  I just nodded. I knew.

  Then Matt got this crazy look on his face. “He’s gotta pay. He has to die,” he said matter-of-factly. That’s what scared me. He said it like he was saying he was going to go clean the oven. Reaching into his pocket for his keys he said, “It ends now.” Oh shit!

  “Hey, Matt, you can’t go and do something like that,” I laughed nervously. “That’s…insane, hoss.”

  “Oh, fuck that! What he did to us was insane! What happened to John was INSANE! What I’m gonna do, is enTIREly sane.” He headed towards the front door but I grabbed his arm and swung him back around.

  “No you don’t. You’re not going anywhere. Gimme the keys.”

  “I don’t need you to save me, Mike,” he growled. I knew that at that moment he very well could have killed Frank with his bare hands. The sheer hatred in his eyes was something I’d never seen before and it scared the shit out of me.

  “I’m not saving anyone—“

  “Except Frank!” Now I knew he was talking without any sense.

  “I hope he rots in hell! It’s you I’m trying to save from jail, stupid ass! I’m sure you’d have no problem—“

  He shook his head and smiled kinda crazy. “I’m going, Mikey,” he sneered, “and you’re not gonna STOP ME!” he roared.

  “NO!” I grabbed his arm again. This time he shoved me back towards t
he stairs. My head snapped on my neck a bit and I was in shock. He’d never done anything like that, nor had he ever talked to me that way.

  Matt got right up in my face and jabbed his finger into the air in front of it. “I told you YEARS ago,” he seethed, spit hitting me in the face, “that you always ran away from your FUCKING problems like a PUSSY! And now you want me to be like a PUSSY too! Well FUCK THAT!” and he shoved me with each loud word to emphasize his point, sort of smacking my chest with his open palms.

  Now, let me ask you this. Have you ever pissed off an Italian? I mean, ever really pissed one off? One from New York, to boot? I knew that he was crazy with anger and grief, but all of this was bullshit. I slowly dropped my head and looked at him from just beneath my eyebrows. I could feel the muscles between my lips and my nose twitching as I snarled back, “I told you never, ever, call me a PUSSY. You got THAT?!” and I did the unexpected. I jacked his jaw at ‘pussy’ and ‘that.’ My hand hurt like a mother fucker! I was angrier than I’d ever been but I still loved him and didn’t want him to go to jail. I honest to God knew he was going to find Frank and kill him. It was that simple. I had to get his attention and cleaning his clock was just the way to do it at that moment.

  Matt looked back at me. I didn’t know what to think and I backed up, tripping on the lower step and then falling onto my ass and elbows. As he stepped towards me I started crawling backwards up the staircase. I was history. I knew it. I’d gotten physical and no matter the reason…well fuck that! But I was also determined not to lose this guy to jail because of his rage.

  All of a sudden his face changed and all of the pain he was feeling showed at one moment. He put his face in his hands and dropped to his knees. “Oh God, Mike…” he sobbed. His body was racked with sobs. I leaned forward and caught him before he fell forward onto the stairs and held him. “I’m so sorry..” he cried. I pulled him to me and let him cry. I shed a few tears myself but I knew he needed me to be strong for him. “God, I’m so sorry,” he kept saying.

  “Hey,” I softly said, “you didn’t do anything. I’m the one who hit you. I’m sorry—“

  “No! You did exactly what I needed.” Looking up he smiled through his tears. “If it wasn’t for you I’d probably be on my way over there right now. It’s just not fair,” he said with a bit of a whimper.

  I held his face to my shoulder and stroked his hair. “I know. It’s not.” While John’s death was an absolute tragedy I couldn’t help but thank God that Matt had not made the same bad choices that John had. John walked the streets for a long time and it wasn’t surprising what had happened to him. But I kept those thoughts to myself. My role as Matt’s friend at that moment was to keep my mouth shut. “Sorry about clocking you.”

  “Aww fuck! No shit. Who taught you to hit like that?” he laughed a bit.

  I smiled. “Self preservation, baby.” Matt had a questioning look on his face. “I love you, Matt. And I’m not going to lose you. Call me selfish but I need you. And I ain’t. Letting. Go. For any reason.”

  He smiled and I held him close again.

  “Martin, you’re full of surprises, pal.” I smiled at that.

  Then the enormity of the loss hit my man like a ton of bricks and he started bawling. At that point I started crying too. I didn’t know John, but Matt’s loss was my loss. We stayed there on the stairs, me sitting and him on his knees in my arms on the steps. As I held him I rocked him back and forth. Sometimes even grown men need coddling.

  * * * *

  It was a shitty day for a funeral. Not that there’s ever a lovely day for one, mind you. But it was exceptionally shitty that day. We actually had a lot of freezing rain and even some sleet.. Januarys in Atlanta were no picnic. Matt and Jackie had made the all of the funeral arrangements, but he and I had picked the cemetery and location. Matt wanted a cemetery plot way out in the country where John would be as far as possible from the problems that had plagued him so horribly in life, and we picked a really nice one north of the city near Buford.

  He and I bought three cemetery plots together; one for him, one for myself and one for John. Matt wanted to be with his brother in death since in life he was unable to take care of him as he’d wanted. We had a magnolia tree planted near our plots. For those of you unfamiliar with that tree, it’s indigenous to the south and it’s low, sheltering branches can extend twenty to thirty feet from the trunk. I understood the symbolism that Matt felt it displayed.

  Jackie and her family were there as well as Matt and myself, and their mother. Albert and Stacy came for support, as did Eddie and his wife Alaina. It was good to see them again but I hated that it was for this reason, a funeral. John and Jackie’s minister officiated the graveside service. Matt’s mother stood there crying. According to Jackie, her mom had quit drinking a couple of years ago and left Frank. I guess the confrontation at the studio several years previous had some effect on her. Matt and Jackie asked if I would sing a song and I hesitantly agreed. I wasn’t really sure what song would be appropriate at first, since I didn’t know John at all. After thinking about it for a while (during the planning of the funeral) I decided upon “Precious Lord, Take My Hand.”

  Precious Lord, take my hand,

  Lead me on, let me stand.

  I am tired, I am weak, I am worn.

  Through the storm, through the night,

  Lead me on to the light.

  Take my hand, precious Lord and lead me home.

  When my way grows drear,

  Precious Lord linger near.

  When my live is almost gone,

  At the river I will stand.

  Guide my feet, hold my hand.

  Take my hand, precious Lord and lead me home.

  Once the funeral was over we all turned to go back to our cars when something caught Matt’s attention. I looked across the sloping hills of the cemetery and saw someone standing near the woods. Oh crap! Frank.

  “Albert, Eddie, John,” I said and nodded in Frank’s direction. Then I stepped in front of Matt, whose eyes were wide with anger. “Matt.” He didn’t look at me. “Matt,” I said more urgently. Slowly he faced me. “Wait right here. I’ll handle it. Guys, don’t let Matt move.” My eyes never left his.

  Then I turned away from them and with my hands in my pockets strode over the couple hundred yards towards where Frank was standing. I could feel questioning eyes on my back and Frank’s hostile glare to my front. Finally I reached him. We stood there, staring at each other for a moment.

  Finally I said calmly, “I cannot believe you have the audacity to show up here, now. Matt can hardly contain himself. He’d like to kill you with his bare hands. You’ll notice that there are three men there making sure he won’t head over here to do just that.” Stepping closer I continued. “Several of the guys on our crews are rehabilitated criminals, all from prison. What’s the one thing that all guys in prison hate?” I waited a moment. “Baby rapers. Guys in prison hate baby rapers. Guys in prison kill baby rapers.” His eyes widened a bit at this. “I never want to see you near me, or Matt, or any of the others, because if I do I’m gonna make a phone call to my former-prisoner emplyees and I’m gonna say just two words to them: baby. Raper. And may God help you at that point, because there’ll be nobody on earth who can.” I stepped in even closer. “And if you ever come near me or Matt, I’m warning you, I keep a gun. Stay away from us. Got it?” Frank just stared. I glared at him for one last moment then turned and walked away.

  When I got back to the group the guys were still standing in front of Matt. “Let’s go,” I said.

  We got to our cars and I turned to look back. Frank was gone. Matt asked, “What did you say to him.”

  “Just get in the car, okay?” I said. “I’ll tell you later.”

  We headed home.

  * * * *

  Part 10

  In February of 2001 the quartet that I sang with had won the right to perform in a competition with four other quartets from our region. There were a total of six reg
ions in the country that competed and they’d send their five best to another level of competition. The best quartet from each of the six regions faced off, or competed against each other for the grand prize, which is a gold medal. Sounds dopey but barber shoppers are really quite an organized group.

  In May our quartet came in first place for our region. We were ecstatic! It takes a lot of hard work and we were on our way to the final competition which was to be held in the fall. It was doubly awesome because it was to be held in New York City. I hadn’t been there since I was four and I wanted to take Matt to all of the sites: Statue of Liberty, Empire State Building, World Trade Center, Radio City, Central Park.

  We were going to make a vacation out of it, and I booked our tickets. September 7th through September 14th. The competition was only for two days and we’d have the rest of the week to go sight-seeing.

  It promised to be an awesome trip.