“Well, it’s like this, Ray. I say to each his own and if homosexuality was wrong then why did God make so many people gay? I mean why would anyone choose some shit like that?” he said as he looked me directly in my eyes as though he were looking right through me.
“Well, I guess you’re right,” I said as I glanced around the restaurant for our waitress, trying to avoid Trent’s eyes.
We decided to stop at the fraternity house one last time before heading out. When we walked in it was like a morgue. Brothers were lying around looking as if somebody had died. Initiation, which was to take place that evening, was a solemn occasion but not this morose.
“What up, frat?” I asked a brother with whom I had chatted over the weekend but whose name escaped me.
“Bad news, frat. Real bad news,” the frat brother said.
“What?”
Just as he was getting ready to answer, Derrick walked into the library of the frat house.
“Ain’t no reason for you niggers to be all depressed. We didn’t do it. Besides being a fag, the boy was weak too,” he said as he looked around the room at all the long faces.
“What happened, Derrick?” I asked.
“That guy, Miller. Fool motherfucker tried to kill himself last night. The other fraternities and his girlfriend are saying it’s our fault.”
“What? What did he do?”
“Slit his wrists,” Derrick said with no visible emotion.
“How is he?”
“Don’t know. They won’t give us any information. His family flew in this morning and I heard his father is coming by the house. That’s why we need you older brothers to stay,” Derrick said.
“What the fuck for?” I shouted. “To save your asses for being so motherfuckin’ stupid?”
“Ray, cool down,” Trent said, as he pulled me by the arms.
“I’m cool, frat. I’m getting my ass out of here. It smells like shit in here to me,” I said as I walked out the door and to my car. I didn’t turn around to see who was calling my name. I just wanted to get back to Atlanta and to make my peace with Jared.
I couldn’t believe what had just transpired. I was upset over some guy whom I had never laid eyes on. A young black guy paying for being different. I thought how this could have been me. I recalled how I once considered suicide while living in New York because my secret life had been discovered. I laid my head on the steering wheel of my car and did something I rarely did. I cried and prayed Christ would see fit to give Miller and me another chance.
Part Two
Loss
No Crying,
No Hymn Sanging
Twenty-two
“It seems like only yesterday when I got the call.”
“The call?” Dr. Huntley quizzed.
“Yes. At first Candance’s mother was just making small talk about Candance pushing back her wedding date because of her being in the hospital and all and then she started crying and her husband took the phone away from her. He told me Candance had AIDS.”
“What did you do?”
“I dropped the phone. I cried. It was so surreal. I recall going into my bathroom, throwing up and putting on my makeup, and catching a taxi to the hospital. Everything else is a blur.”
“So Candance never told you?”
“The words never crossed her lips.”
“Are you certain you should be the one who calls Raymond?”
“I at least have to make sure he knows. I don’t know what I’ll say, but I have to call him.”
“Are you up to this?” Dr. Huntley asked as she moved from behind her large desk.
“This isn’t about me. Kyle needs his friends for support. Candance only had her parents, Kelvin, and me. All the friends she had and none of them knew until it was over.”
“Have you talked with Pierce?”
“Just a few conversations but not about the black thing.”
“Are you going to?”
“Yes, I’m going to be completely honest with him about why I feel this way and my true feelings for him. I’ve always said I wanted people to be honest with me in relationships and I haven’t given Pierce the same courtesy.”
“I think you’re on the right track, Nicole,” Dr. Huntley said. She even gave me a soft reassuring smile.
“You think so?”
“Yes, I do. How is your friend, the one who was attacked? Delaney, right?”
“Yes, Delaney. Right now she’s dealing with the news about Kyle. Still not talking about the attack.”
“Do you think she’s going to just let it go?”
“For now … but if I know Delaney like I think I do she will confront the issue when she’s ready.”
“Do you need an extra session this week?”
“I don’t know if I’ll have the time. Can I call your service?”
“Sure, Nicole. That will be fine.”
It was a call I never wanted to make. Despite the confidence I displayed with Dr. Huntley, I was petrified. I mean it took me days to find Raymond’s home phone number without asking Kyle for it outright. There were several Raymond Tylers listed in the Atlanta directory. I later realized that his number might be unlisted and I didn’t know the name of the firm he was working for, but I knew it was owned by a black female, so I called a couple of my Atlanta sorors who came up with the name. Then I found someone who knew someone inside the firm who could get me Raymond’s home number. I didn’t want to call him at his office. What would I say? And I still wondered if I was doing the right thing.
Kyle had not verbally confirmed anything, but his actions did. He wasn’t taking Delaney’s or my calls and left strict instructions with his doorman that no one was to come up to his apartment not even Delaney or me. Besides seeing the pills, I had some other supporting evidence. One of the male dancers in Jelly’s had expressed his sympathy about Kyle after first confirming that Kyle and I were close friends. When I asked him what he was talking about he simply put his hands to his lips and said, “I’m sorry. You don’t know?”
I guess there is a great gay computer service out there disseminating all sorts of information regarding gay men. The sad thing is that all the information and rumors these days have to do with AIDS.
I’d learned a lot through the pain of Candance’s death. I wasn’t afraid to be around anyone with AIDS, but it seemed that people with AIDS wanted to keep the pain private. In addition to Candance I had lost several male friends from the cast of Dreamgirls to the disease, but they were not as close to me as Kyle was and in many cases, they traveled back to their hometown to die. I had never been around someone for a prolonged time during his illness. The disease seemed to hit so quickly. One day they were on stage dancing and pleasing crowds and a few months or sometimes just weeks later a note would appear on a backstage bulletin board with instructions on where to send flowers and donations.
In the weeks that followed my discovery of Kyle’s pills I had been asked to sing at an AIDS cabaret benefit and at a program at Spelman honoring Candance early next year. I cried through both phone calls after saying yes.
I called Raymond’s number all weekend but I just kept getting his answering machine. I didn’t leave a message. It would be heartless to just leave a message. Maybe Raymond would get the wrong idea and think that after all these years I’d changed my mind and decided to give him another chance. I wondered how he would respond to my call and the news. What if he knew? I mean he and Kyle were very close. For all I knew Raymond could be in New York right now at Kyle’s apartment taking care of him. They say women are secretive but men can be just as much so.
Late Sunday night, I sipped hot spiced apple tea and stared mindlessly at the phone. I decided to call Raymond one more time before I went to bed. All I would have to do is to hit redial, since his number was the only one I had dialed all day. I’d even missed my morning prayer call with Sheila and instead just prayed in my apartment alone. I was still waiting for those Scriptures she’d promised.
D
elaney agreed that I should call Raymond. She said that at least that way we could confirm what we believed to be true. I asked Delaney if she knew anything more and she said, “No, but don’t you think Kyle had been acting strange all summer?” I was ashamed to say I hadn’t noticed. I looked at my clock and realized that midnight was approaching, so I did something I always do when I’m in doubt. I got on my knees and prayed about five minutes for guidance and direction on what to do. I also explained to the Lord I would dial Raymond’s number one more time and if he didn’t answer then that would mean he already knew and, if he answered, then that meant I was supposed to tell him.
I got off my knees, walked into my bathroom, flossed and brushed my teeth, and then walked slowly down the hallway to the living room and my phone.
I didn’t hit redial, I pushed 4-0-4 and the rest of Raymond’s number. One ring, a second ring, and I prepared for the answering machine to pick up after the third.
“Hello,” the deep voice said. I felt my knees lock.
“Raymond?”
“Yes.”
“How are you doing?”
“Nicole? Is this Nicole Springer, famous Broadway actress?” he asked.
“You recognized my voice,” I said.
“How could I forget your voice? What a pleasant surprise,” Raymond said.
We started talking in a desultory way and I determined he didn’t know why I was calling. “So when was the last time you talked to Kyle?” I asked.
“Oh, it’s been a couple of weeks. Funny you should ask. I just got back home from a fraternity reunion and I thought about Kyle all the way home. He’s been so busy with his business and all. You know I’m really proud of him,” Raymond said.
I didn’t respond. Raymond started his rambling sentences again.
“Nicole, Nicole? Are you still there?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, Raymond.”
“So tell me about this new musical you’re in. Maybe I can make this opening,” Raymond said.
“Well, that’s on the back burner right now. I’m still doing Jelly’s.”
“Oh, great. Maybe I’ll get a chance to see you the next time I’m in New York,” he said.
“Yeah, that will be nice. Raymond, do you know anything about Kyle being sick?”
“Kyle sick? You mean mental—yeah, I’ve known that … for quite some time.”
“Raymond, seriously. I think Kyle has AIDS,” I said, interrupting Raymond’s light-hearted banter.
A period of silence followed. I felt my eyes begin to fill with tears.
“Raymond, are you there?”
“Yeah, Nicole, I’m here. Are you sure? I mean, Kyle would have told me something like this,” Raymond said, as his voice trailed off.
I told Raymond about the pills I’d seen in Kyle’s apartment and all the strange things that happened during the summer and what my friend from Jelly’s had said. Raymond shared with me Kyle’s not pressing him on a few trips they were supposed to take during the summer and Kyle’s not calling him as much, but he’d thought it was because Kyle was so busy. He expressed slight disbelief in what I shared with him because he said Kyle had been in perfect health on Memorial Day, but I think he believed me when we realized Kyle had told us different versions of his back injury. He told Raymond he’d strained a back muscle moving furniture. Kyle was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a liar.
Twenty-three
Nicole’s phone call left me in a state of shock. A numbness cloaked my body. My first instinct was to call Kyle right away but instead I called Jared, who promised to come right over. While waiting for Jared I managed to finish a half bottle of red wine and drink three Stolis with grapefruit juice. I needed instant courage.
I was well aware of the fact that at some point AIDS would again touch my life. I just didn’t know who and when. I myself got tested every six months even while I was celibate. Basil and I always practiced safe sex. As far as I knew, Kyle had been practicing safe sex ever since the mid-eighties. Maybe Nicole was wrong. Yeah, that was it. This was some terrible mistake. I picked up the phone and hit the speed dial button next to Kyle’s name.
“Hello,” Kyle answered.
I was startled and surprised to hear his voice sounding so clear.
“Kyle, where have you been?” I slurred.
“Ray, what’s the matter with you?” Kyle asked.
“Why haven’t you returned my calls?” I asked.
“I’ve been real busy. Chile, I met this man this weekend. Ray, he had a dick big enough for two people,” Kyle laughed.
“I hope you had safe sex,” I said.
“Of course. I put two rubbers on it,” Kyle snickered.
I was waiting for the right time to tell Kyle about Nicole’s call but he kept talking about this new man and all the jobs he was getting. This did not sound like a man with AIDS.
“So when was the last time you talked to Nicole?”
“Oh, it’s been a while. You know she’s busy with the show and planning her wedding. Like I said, we’ve both been real busy,” Kyle said.
I told Kyle about my weekend in Alabama and what happened with the fraternity and the young guy who tried to commit suicide.
“So is this why you’re so drunk and sound so sad?” Kyle asked.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I lied.
“I don’t know why you want to be bothered with those homophobic boys. That’s college boy shit. You’re a grown man now,” Kyle lectured.
Just when I was getting ready to ask Kyle if he had anything he wanted to share with me, I heard a beep on my phone line.
“Hold on, Kyle,” I said.
“Naw, I’ve got to go. I hear Grady buzzing me. Sleep it off, Ray, and call me tomorrow,” Kyle said.
“Kyle?”
“Yeah, Ray?”
“I love you.”
“Yeah, I know. I love you, too,” Kyle said softly.
The beep was my doorman informing me Jared was on his way up. It was now early Monday morning.
Jared’s face was covered with a big smile when I opened the door. The smile made my body feel warmer than the vodka and wine combined. I gave him a bear hug and whispered, “I’m sorry for being such a jerk.”
“No problem. I knew you’d come around. Pops told me you could be moody,” Jared said as he removed his sweater, walked into the kitchen, and opened the icebox. Just like the past months never happened.
“You got any lunch meat?” Jared asked.
“If I do, I wouldn’t suggest eating it,” I said.
“Old, huh?”
“Real old.”
Jared grabbed a beer and I stared at my empty glass on the counter and wondered if I had any more wine in my bedroom bar. I excused myself and found a miniature bottle of chardonnay. This would do it. This glass would give me the final push I needed. I poured the wine into the glass, walked back into the living room, and saw Jared standing near the sliding glass door.
“So, I’m your niggah again?” Jared asked.
“Yeah, you’re the man,” I said looking around the sofa for the remote control to my CD player. I located it and pushed the power button and out piped Luther Vandross’s voice singing “A House Is Not a Home.”
Instead of telling Jared about me, I started to tell him about the weekend at AU and Kyle. I asked him what I should do, since Kyle wasn’t confessing to anything and there was still a possibility Nicole had her facts confused.
“You should go to New York and find out what’s going on,” Jared advised.
I expected Jared to ask me if Kyle was gay, but he didn’t. He just listened intently as I spoke of my frustrations about not knowing what to do. He also told me I had to overlook my fraternity brothers because they were young and didn’t know better.
“We men can be such jerks,” Jared said.
“Yes, present company included,” I said, pointing to my chest. Jared smiled.
“It’s good talking like this, Ray. You know I’ve missed it,” Jared said.
“Yeah, I have too. I don’t know why I acted like I did,” I said.
“Isn’t Nicole that lady you were so in love with?” Jared asked.
“Yeah, and when I heard her voice tonight, I felt like it was just yesterday when things were going so great for us,” I said.
“Do you still love her?” Jared asked.
“Yeah, I think so. But I haven’t seen her in almost three years and she’s engaged. Jared, can I ask you something?”
“Yeah.”
“You ever been in love?”
Jared didn’t respond right away. It looked like his eyes were filling with water. He looked around the living room, got up, and walked over to the sliding glass door. Then he turned, faced me, and nodded blankly.
“Yeah, I was in love once,” Jared said after taking a deep breath.
“You want to talk about it? Will you share it with me?” I asked.
Jared went on to tell me a sad story of love and betrayal. He had been in love with a woman he had known since the ninth grade, Pamela Phillips. He described her as a light-skinned beauty who was from one of Atlanta’s “high-colored” families, he laughed. Pamela and Jared had dated for over seven years and were engaged to be married. Their wedding was going to be one of the highlights of the Atlanta summer social season, only Pamela stood Jared up on their wedding day. She left town with Jared’s best friend and roommate, Jergen Lassic, whom she later married.
As Jared told the story I could tell how painful this had been. His face was etched with sadness. It appeared to me he’d really loved Pamela and Jergen and that the experience left him scarred. I now realized why my friendship was so important to Jared. I knew also that I had to accept the reality that Jared was heterosexual.
Yeah, I knew of stories where guys in the closet could change a he to a she and tell a convincing tale of true love. I had done it myself. But I felt Jared’s story was true. I could see it in his eyes and hear it in the sound of his voice. This woman had hurt my friend badly. He ended the story by saying the only things that compared to the hurt he felt on his wedding day were when his father left him when he was five years old and when he thought our friendship was over. Again I apologized and grabbed Jared and held him tightly. I took my fingers and traced the small crease between his brow and he smiled fondly. I was close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body and the heat of his breath. But this closeness was not sexual but something more fulfilling than sex could ever be. It was during this moment that I realized Jared had much more to offer me than sex.
Just As I Am Page 20