When he introduced himself to me, I smiled and tried to avoid his eyes. I looked for mannerisms that might give me a clue as to his sexuality. I guessed I’d have to get Kyle to run him through the computer. It was funny but it didn’t matter to me if Devere was gay or not, which made me realize I shouldn’t be concerned with Timothy either. I mean I was an engaged woman.
I hadn’t given my notice to Jelly’s yet. We weren’t going into full rehearsals for almost a month and I wanted to make sure that I wanted to do this. My first take on the script was that it needed work, serious work, and there was no music for us to start looking over. For me this was not a good sign.
We located a row of vending machines and Devere, Timothy, and I drank colas in the hallway, talked about the make-up of the cast, and laughed when we all confessed that we’d thought this was going to be a black musical. We also laughed when we decided that we’d better disperse before the rest of the cast thought we were starting some type of trouble. Even on Broadway, white people became concerned when they saw black people grouped together, especially if black men were involved. It didn’t matter that none of the white cast members made an effort to come and join our conversation.
This would be my fourth Broadway show and it was the first time that the cast was majority white. All of the shows that I’d been in previously contained no more than three white cast members. It’s not that I wasn’t used to working with white people; all my high school productions were majority white and every pageant that I was ever in contained no more than three black women. It would be interesting to see how the cast would interact once the musical went into full production.
After the read-through I met Delaney at the Paramount Hotel for a drink before heading to the theater. Delaney was already sipping some tea and reading a copy of Backstage when I walked into the dimly lit room. She had a glass of white wine already waiting for me.
“Hey, girl. How did it go?” Delaney asked as she gave me a kiss on both my cheeks.
“Oh, it was okay, but I don’t know, girl,” I said as I motioned for the waitress.
“What’s the problem?” Delaney asked.
“Well, the script is weak, which means the music is bound to be,” I said while looking over the small bar menu.
“So when are you going to give your notice?”
“Not until I see the music,” I said, waving my menu toward the waitress.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to eat?” Delaney asked in an unbelieving tone.
“Oh, come on—just a few chicken wings,” I said.
I pointed to the wings on the menu and the waitress smiled and took the menu from my hands.
“Girl, I wish I could eat like you and still stay thin.”
“Oh, chile, look at you. You weigh less than me,” I protested.
“Yes, but I don’t eat shit and I take at least two dance classes a day,” Delaney defended.
“I’ve got enough problems. I guess the good Lord didn’t put the extra burden of weight on me,” I said.
“Tell that to Nell Carter, and what kind of problems do you have, girlfriend?”
“You know. Oh, before I forget, do you know a guy named Timothy Britton?”
“Timothy Britton—no. Who is he?”
“He’s in To Tell the Truth and, Delaney girl, he is so fine.”
“Black or white?” Delaney asked.
“Black, but what difference does that make?”
“To me all the difference in the world.” Delaney shrugged.
“I can’t tell if he’s gay or straight,” I said.
“Assume he’s gay but who knows. He could be bi,” Delaney laughed.
“So when are you going to tell me how you feel about my engagement?”
“So we go from some fine black guy to Pierce?”
“No, honey, I just wanted to know if you knew this guy. But what I really want to know is how you feel about me getting married.”
“Chile, that’s your business. I like Pierce, but I’m not the one marrying him! Even more so, do you more than like him?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you love him?”
“Well, sorta.” I paused and sipped some of the wine.
“Sorta?” Delaney asked.
“Aren’t you the one who is always saying you should go out with someone who cares more about you than you do him?”
“Yes, but I didn’t say marry him.”
“Well, at least I have Kyle’s support,” I said.
“Kyle? Why do you say that?”
“He’s so excited. He called me late last night saying he wanted to start on my gown right away and that he has all these designs he wants me to see.”
“Where is he going to find the time? I think he’s spreading himself too thin,” Delaney suggested. “Maybe that’s why we don’t see him as much,” she added.
“Yeah, you might be right, but he seems happy,” I said as I moved my wineglass to make room for the wings the busboy placed on the small table. Delaney didn’t touch them. She just sat there and sipped her tea. She looked like a European model with her high cheekbones and short haircut, which she’d recently started to let grow out. I was devouring the chicken wings when abruptly Delaney started laughing so hard that everyone in the bar gazed at our table.
“Did you say To Tell the Truth?” Delaney laughed as she set the cup down on the saucer.
“Yes,” I said, wondering what Delaney found so funny.
“Girlfriend, the title alone will sell tickets,” she giggled.
“Girl, I thought the exact same thing,” I said, joining in her laughter.
After the flurry of laughter died down, Delaney carefully steered the conversation to Pierce and my acceptance of his proposal. Delaney shared with me that she thought I was in too big a hurry to get married and although she felt that you should marry someone who loved you more, she felt that I admired and respected Pierce—and perhaps even cared for him, but not enough to marry. When I protested she pointed out that my religious beliefs alone were reasons to reconsider. I hadn’t thought about it until Delaney posed a question that Pierce had not: “Would you convert to Judaism?”
“I haven’t really thought about it but I seriously doubt it.” I told Delaney that she had given me something to think about and added that I planned on a long engagement so I couldn’t be in that big a hurry to get married.
As Delaney and I prepared to leave, she said, “Don’t forget about this weekend.”
“This weekend?”
“Yeah, the group up in Harlem.”
“Oh, of course. I’ll be there. I’m looking forward to it.”
Delaney and some of her friends had started teaching dance at a community center in Harlem and they came up with the idea of having self-esteem workshops for the teenage girls. She asked me to come and give some beauty pageant pointers and I agreed. She convinced Kyle to volunteer his services to make party dresses for the girls, who ranged from age twelve to fifteen. Kyle was scouting thrift shops around the city looking for old ball gowns that could be transformed to fit these teenage girls’ tastes. This, despite the fact that Delaney said they all dressed like the female rap group TLC. A group I never heard of. I must be getting old.
Delaney was the type of person who couldn’t say no when it came to helping those less fortunate than herself, especially if it involved a group of young black kids. It was one of the things I admired most about her.
We said our good-byes and Delaney headed toward the Forty-second Street subway station and another dance class in the Village and I headed up Eighth Avenue to the Virginia Theater. Before I reached the theater I stopped at a pay phone to check my answering service. Much to my surprise there were no messages. I was expecting a call from Kyle and there was always a message from Pierce. Kyle and I were planning a shopping trip for Delaney’s project and I needed to talk with Pierce. I didn’t have my watch on so I didn’t have a clue as to the time. I knew it was getting close to half-hour.
The sun had lowered, leaving streaks of red and magenta in the sky while bathing the city with its warmth. It was on evenings like this that I wouldn’t trade places with anyone in the world.
Thirteen
Basil had managed to get himself in a shitload of trouble. I received a police report and pictures of his victim, Charles Marshall, whose left eye was multicolored and puffy from contact with Basil’s fists. The victim’s attorney immediately filed a lawsuit asking for two million dollars and appeared in no mood to settle out of court. Basil had been lucky in some respects; the district attorney had elected not to press charges because of the lack of cooperation from the witnesses and the name of John Henderson didn’t mean anything to her or reporters on the police station beat so the story fortunately escaped media attention.
I decided to hire a private investigator to find out any information that might assist in the case. The report caused mixed emotions for me. It turned out that Marshall was a twenty-nine-year-old unemployed schoolteacher with a police record who was HIV positive and currently taking AZT. The investigator found this out by following him to the drugstore and then bribing the clerk at the pharmacy. Marshall had served a six-month term for credit-card fraud when he was twenty-five years old and had only come off probation within the last few months. He lived in a midtown Atlanta duplex with two male roommates. The places he frequented sounded like some of the gay bars Kyle told me to check out for his visit.
Basil instructed me to do whatever it took to keep the case from going to trial so we made an offer of fifty thousand dollars, which was promptly rejected by Marshall’s counsel. I informed Basil of Marshall’s HIV status and suggested that he strongly consider being tested in view of the condition of Marshall’s face. Basil said he didn’t remember seeing any blood on his hands but agreed to be tested anyway.
The case was taking up a great deal of time and provided a very good excuse for me to not spend time with Jared without having to give the real reason. In the past two weeks I’d seen him only once and that had been one morning at the health club. He called my secretary to remind me that my birthday was coming up in a few days and to advise me not to make any plans.
While working for Basil solved one dilemma it was creating a different type of problem. He was constantly making sexual innuendos and whenever he came to my office he always wore clothing that accented his body. When I reminded him that he wasn’t gay or bisexual he remarked, “I know but I wouldn’t mind kicking it with you.” Every time he came into the office all of the secretaries and Mico would find some reason either to walk by or come into my office.
It was hard to ignore Basil’s sexual presence and I tried to conduct most of my conversations with him over the phone. During the times we had to meet in person I avoided his eyes and always tried to have some type of legal document close at hand to take my attention from Basil. He didn’t have any idea that the papers in my hands didn’t have a thing to do with his case.
I called Basil early one morning and suggested that we up our initial offer. His insurance company was cooperating and I felt that if we doubled our offer then at least I would be able to get Marshall and his attorney to meet with us. Basil agreed and I was able to schedule a meeting for the following afternoon. I asked Basil to meet me that evening at my health club. I wanted to go over strategy and give him pointers on his conduct for the meeting.
Suggesting the health club wasn’t such a great idea. Everywhere we went in the club people recognized Basil and came over to talk or just stare. It was then that I saw another side of Basil. He took the time to speak with everyone who wanted to talk to him about football, the Warriors’ upcoming season, and their chances against the Atlanta Falcons. The arrogance that was usually so apparent vanished. It didn’t matter if it was a male or female, Basil listened intently to their questions and smiled, flashing his immaculate teeth. Once I realized we weren’t going to accomplish anything at the gym I headed to the locker room and walked right into Jared.
“Say, buddy, what are you doing here?” Jared asked.
“Jared, uh … oh, I’m here with a client. What are you doing here in the evening?” I said unsteadily.
“I lost my workout partner,” he said mournfully. “You got time to grab something to eat?”
“I don’t think so. I’m going back to the office.”
“Aw, come on now, I’ve missed you,” Jared said.
Just as I was getting ready to agree, from the corner of my eye I caught Basil walking into the locker room. Jared was wearing tight black biker shorts and his chest was covered only with his sweat. I could feel Basil’s eyes on me but I didn’t turn around to acknowledge him immediately. Jared saw Basil staring at me and his eyebrows arched as Basil suddenly moved and positioned himself directly in front of me while purposely ignoring Jared.
“Hey, Ray, I’m sorry about all the distractions. Let me take you to dinner to make it up,” Basil said.
Jared looked puzzled, and I searched for a response. Jared politely positioned himself in front of Basil, extended his hand, and said, “Excuse me, I’m Jared Stovall, I don’t think we’ve met.”
“Yeah, I’m Basil Henderson,” Basil said rudely, and then turned to face me. “So what about it, Ray? Can we do dinner?”
So much for a kinder, gender Basil Henderson.
“Yeah, Basil, we definitely need to talk. Let me talk with Jared and I’ll meet you out front in about fifteen minutes,” I said.
“Okay, I’m going to shower,” Basil said, removing his sweatshirt as if to show Jared that his barrel chest was equally impressive.
Jared stood there silently for a moment just looking at me as if he were looking at a total stranger. It was the first time anything like this had happened between the two of us. Finally breaking the silence that had descended upon us, Jared said, “Okay, Ray, call me when you have the time.”
“Yeah, I will call real soon, buddy. I will.”
Jared walked to another section of the locker room very slowly, stopping to look back at me and then continuing out of sight. Suddenly Basil appeared from nowhere with a towel wrapped around him and came over to me, smiling. He whispered in my ear, “Is that your boyfriend?” I wanted to smack the fuck out of him but I resisted the urge and instead grabbed my bag from the locker and headed out of the gym still dressed in my workout clothes. “Forget about dinner, Basil,” I yelled back.
As I drove home I thought about what a jerk Basil was and how he had deliberately fucked with Jared and me. Was he jealous of Jared? Jared hadn’t seemed to notice and only appeared intent on finding out what was wrong with me.
Instead of dinner with Basil, I found myself making a ham and turkey sandwich on rye bread and pouring myself a tall glass of cranberry juice, readying myself for an evening alone, when my phone rang.
“Hello.”
“Is this the Raymond Tyler?”
“Speaking. Who am I speaking with?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t recognize my voice,” the deep baritone said.
“Look, I don’t have time to play games. Who is this?” I demanded.
“Man, I’d love to see you mad. Guess I better tell you before you hang up on me. This is your number-one client,” he said.
Suddenly I recognized the voice. It was Basil.
“Basil, how did you get my home number?” I asked with slight irritation in my voice.
“Calm down. I went by your office and that guy Mico gave it to me,” Basil said.
I wondered if Basil was lying. What would Mico be doing in the office so late, and why would he give Basil my number? Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time Basil’s masculine charm had disconcerted an otherwise unflappable person. But I was going to make sure that I wouldn’t fall prey to his act.
“What can I do for you?” I asked sternly.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry for this evening. I was just being an asshole,” Basil said.
“No problem. I’m getting used to your behavior,” I sai
d.
“Do you want me to come by your place to discuss the meeting tomorrow? I could be there in fifteen minutes,” Basil said.
“No, Basil, I have my game plan. You just follow my lead and don’t answer any questions or say anything unless I instruct you. Understood?”
“Yeah, cool,” Basil replied.
“Okay. Have a good night,” I said and gently placed the receiver in the cradle on my kitchen counter.
I took about three big bites from my sandwich and pondered what tomorrow’s meeting would be like. I wanted to know what this guy looked like without the markings and if he already was suffering from AIDS or if he was just HIV positive. I hadn’t been in the same room with somebody with AIDS since Kelvin’s wife Candance died from the disease. I didn’t tell Gilliam about this guy being HIV positive. Come to think of it, I had failed to tell Gilliam that I’d known Basil prior to meeting him in our office. Gilliam had mentioned she knew the opposing counsel and that if this went to trial I would eat his lunch. She concurred with me that Basil’s ass was lucky not to be facing criminal charges and that we should try and settle out of court.
Right before I went to bed, I took a warm shower. While in the pulsating shower I started to think of Jared and how he’d looked this evening in the gym. He was smiling but I could tell there was a sadness surrounding him and I was sad too. Maybe I was wrong to try and pull away from him without giving him an explanation. I really needed to determine if I, in fact, was in love with Jared or if this was just a case of lust caused by my celibacy vow.
As I dried off and prepared myself for bed, I found my thoughts shifting to Basil and the view I’d caught of him in the gym. He had been bending over putting foot spray in his tennis shoes. His backside was covered with hair and his butt seemed to have a life of its own.
Just As I Am Page 10