Just As I Am

by E. Lynn Harris

  “Oh, maybe that’s where. Spelman ’82,” I said.

  Jared looked at me, smiled and nodded, then walked over to Kyle’s bed to talk with him. Peaches walked into the room and let out a loud squeal. “Where did these two fine bucks come from?” she asked.

  “Cool your pussy down, Mrs. Mother. They are here to see me,” Kyle said.

  “Hey, Raymond Junior,” Peaches said as she gave Raymond a hug.

  “Hey, Ma,” Ray said. Ray introduced Jared to Peaches as I looked for my bag and the rest of my belongings. I walked into the living room and Delaney was sitting on the sofa flipping through a copy of Jet magazine.

  “I’ve got a question for you, Nic.”

  “What?”

  “Why are all the Jet beauties from Oakland?” Delaney asked as she laid down the magazine on the coffee table.

  “Girl, you are some kinda crazy,” I laughed.

  “You know I’m not lying. Every one of those bitches are from Oakland or some place like that.”

  “You ready, girl?” I asked.

  “I’m ready,” Delaney said as she got up and grabbed her bag.

  I could hear the voices in Kyle’s room laughing and Vanessa’s music in the background. I called out a final good-bye but no one responded. I stopped in the kitchen, put a piece of Peaches’s skillet cornbread in a napkin, and placed it in my bag. Delaney looked at me and smiled as we headed out of the door and down the hallway.

  Twenty-nine

  In less than twenty-four hours, Jared Stovall charmed New York City, or at least Kyle and Peaches. He came in town the weekend before Thanksgiving to meet Kyle for the first time and get additional information for his search for Kyle’s father. I planned to take Jared to a show and nice restaurant, but instead we ended up spending the time at Kyle’s. When Kyle and I suggested taking Jared to some of New York’s nightspots, he declined, saying there would be time for that later.

  It was magical seeing Kyle and Jared talk and act as though they had been friends for life. Peaches was constantly putting plates of food in Jared’s hands and spending a great deal of time flirting with him. She commented to Kyle, “I’m glad to see that you guys don’t have all the fine boys.”

  Kyle replied, “Turn your dimmer down, darling. The shine is hurting my eyes.”

  When I took Jared back to the airport, I asked him how he got to be so smart and he replied with a big smile, “I read a lot.”

  Before he got on the plane I told him how special he was and he said, “You and Kyle are the special ones.”

  Jared promised Kyle that with the additional information about his father, Jared would hopefully have some good news by the first or second week in December. Peaches encouraged him not to put himself out to find the asshole.

  I don’t know what Nicole thought of Jared. She and Delaney didn’t hang around, but Jared commented on how beautiful they both were. He said he remembered Nicole from his college days.

  Thanksgiving turned out to be different and quite special for me in many respects. First it was going to be one of Kirby’s last Thanksgivings while he was still alive or at least able to walk. My little brother took the train down to New York and showed up at Penn Station with baggy jeans hanging from his narrow hips, an earring, and mini dreads covered by a Malcolm X hat. I was certain Mom and Pops would kill him for Christmas.

  It was our first Thanksgiving not spent with Mom and Pops. We called them and told them how we were going to spend our day feeding the homeless at Nicole’s church. They said how much they missed us, but that they were proud of how we’d planned our holiday. I didn’t tell them about the hairstyle or the earring.

  Nicole and Delaney fell in love with Kirby instantly. My little brother was quite the ladies’ man. He and Kyle hit it off too, and I was proud that Kirby didn’t appear uncomfortable around him; Kyle’s physical condition had deteriorated and teenagers were sometimes squeamish around sick people. Kirby told Kyle all about prep school and how he was going to go to a black college when he graduated. He hadn’t even shared that with me. Kyle kept repeating, “Kirby is such a little man,” with that glint in his eyes usually reserved for good-looking men.

  I was glad Nicole had suggested we assist with dinner at her church. It made me realize how blessed I truly was. After spending most of the afternoon at church, we all came back to Kyle’s, where Peaches had prepared a feast. Some of Kyle’s cousins came to New York and I couldn’t believe how we all fit into the one-bedroom apartment, and we all had a good time.

  Kyle’s three male cousins and Peaches were engaged in a lively game of bid whist. Almost every minute someone would yell out, “Take this, motherfucker. Looks like we’re going to Boston.”

  While enjoying watching the game, I noticed Nicole walk into the kitchen and I followed her. She was at the sink removing dishes from the counter and she smiled as I walked in. We both broke out in laughter as we heard Peaches scream at the top of her lungs; “Now who’s going to Boston, you country-assed motherfucker? Who taught your sorry ass how to play bid? I thought you went to college.”

  “Sounds like Peaches just won a hand,” Nicole said.

  “Yep, I think so,” I said.

  Nicole looked especially elegant Thanksgiving Day in black stretch pants and a turtleneck topped with a mauve jacket. Her hair was pulled into a thick ponytail held together tightly by a gold barrette. I’ve always been a sucker for a girl with a ponytail.

  I offered to help Nicole with the dishes and she quickly accepted my offer. She washed and I dried. We were about halfway finished when she looked up at me and said, “Your little brother is wonderful and quite handsome.”

  “Well, get a good look at him, because this might be the last time you see him like that,” I joked.

  “Why?” Nicole asked with a puzzled expression.

  “Oh, I’m just kidding. I was just thinking what Mom is going to do when she sees him Christmas.”

  “The earring?” Nicole asked.

  “And the dreads,” I said.

  “I think they look cute on him,” Nicole smiled.

  “Good, then write him a letter of endorsement. It might help his sentence,” I laughed.

  “You think she’s going to be that upset?”

  “At first, but then she’ll get over it. My mom has gotten over a lot more,” I said.

  “I’d like to meet your mom one day,” Nicole said.

  “I’d like that too. I know you two would hit it off,” I said.

  “Your friend Jared seemed nice,” Nicole said. There was something different in her voice.

  “Yeah, Jared is one of a kind,” I said. I wondered if Nicole thought Jared was gay and was my friend. There was a brief period of silence with the exception of the sound of Nicole’s hands going in and out of the sudsy sink and then, “This has been nice,” Nicole said as tears came into her eyes. She blinked hard to force them back.

  “Why the tears? Are you all right?” I asked, reaching out and grabbing her by her narrow shoulders.

  “I’m all right. I mean the whole day has just been wonderful. First at church and then here with Kyle and his family. Isn’t this what Thanksgiving is supposed to be about?” Nicole asked.

  “Yes, Nicole. Days like today are what it’s all about. Family and good friends,” I said.

  “I think this is what the Lord had planned,” she said, managing a small, but endearing smile.

  Later that evening, Nicole and Delaney took Kirby and Peaches to the movies. I wanted to go, but since Kyle didn’t feel well, saying he had eaten too much, I stayed at the apartment and played cards with him and his cousins.

  Hours later the ladies returned with Kirby and we headed to midtown via the subway. Kirby seemed to be having the time of his young life, his face covered with an indelible smile.

  “So you’re having fun, huh?”

  “Yeah Ray-Ray. This has been a lot of fun! Nicole and Delaney were so nice to me. They are so pretty,” Kirby said.

  “So you li
ke them?”

  “Yeah. Don’t you? They are so dope!”

  “Dope?”

  “Yeah, you know, cool, fly. Dope!”

  “Oh yeah. What about Kyle and Peaches?” I asked.

  “They’re real nice too. Especially Peaches. She had us cracking up,” Kirby laughed.

  The train arrived at our stop and when we walked from the subway station I realized a light snow had begun. The New York night fell silent under the graceful force of the cold and clean snow. I was savoring the magical snowflakes falling on my warm face and Kirby was playfully sticking his tongue out catching them when he suddenly turned to me and asked, “Ray-Ray, Kyle has AIDS, right?”

  “Yes, Kirby, Kyle has AIDS.”

  “How did he get it? Is Kyle soft?”

  “What do you mean soft?”

  “You know soft, sissy, a fag,” Kirby said as he levitated his glove-covered hand side to side.

  “Don’t use those words Kirby.” I was startled and my voice was measured and tight.

  “What words?”

  “Fag or sissy. They’re demeaning. Kyle is my friend and that’s all that matters. You got a problem with it?”

  “Naw, Ray-Ray, I’m sorry,” Kirby said. A frightened look crossed his face.

  I turned and positioned my body directly in front of Kirby and reached out and grabbed him by his thin shoulders. He was shaking and I didn’t know if it was the cold weather or my amplified voice.

  “Kirby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just don’t want you to use words like fag. Think before you just make assumptions or label someone. AIDS can strike anybody. Get that fag shit out of your vocabulary. Do you understand?”

  “Yeah but why, Ray?”

  “ ’Cause I said so,” I said sounding very much like my pops.

  “Dope,” Kirby replied.

  “Kirby.”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t forget what I told you about using a condom. Promise.”

  “Don’t worry, I promise.”

  As we entered the hotel I realized I had to talk to my little brother in more detail about my sexuality before the world had a chance to turn him into a hopeless homophobe. I just prayed it wasn’t too late.

  That night back at the hotel after Kirby fell asleep, I did something rare. I got out of the bed, got on my knees, and silently prayed for a miracle for Kyle and thanked God for my own blessings. I also prayed for guidance on what to do about my little brother and for his safe return to school. When I got up from my knees I realized that I needed to call my parents before my talk with my little brother.

  When my pops picked up the phone I asked him to tell Mama to get on the other end and told them I had something serious to talk about. When I didn’t elaborate there was a long silence over the phone lines and then my pops in his majestic voice inquired, “You don’t have that disease, son. Please tell us that’s not it, son.”

  “No, Pops. I assure you, I don’t have AIDS.”

  I heard my mother breathe a sigh of relief. “How is Kyle?” she asked.

  “Good and bad days. He’s hanging in there.”

  “Tell him I’m praying for him,” Mama said.

  “Yeah tell him to hang in there,” my pops interjected.

  “I’ll make sure I tell him first thing,” I said.

  “What was it you needed to talk to us about?” my mother asked.

  “I think it’s really a conversation we should have in person. Don’t worry. I probably just wanted to hear your voices.”

  They told me to make sure Kirby got back to school safely and to keep them posted on Kyle’s condition.

  Before hanging up, I said, “I love ya.”

  “We love you too,” my mother said.

  My pops responded, “Back at ya, son. Back at you.”

  Jared shipped my laptop computer up to New York and I started working on some of the items I’d left behind in Atlanta while Kyle slept or went to his doctors’ appointments. Sometimes I went with him, but most of the time a service provided by GMHC picked Kyle up and returned him safely.

  The time after Thanksgiving was strange. Kyle didn’t look like Kyle anymore and he spent more and more time in his bedroom in bed. Still, he didn’t complain about pain. Occasionally he asked for help in getting his pillows in order or changing his sheets after nights of cold sweats. His voice was becoming weak and breathy.

  One afternoon after watching a movie, Kyle started talking about his illness. He said when he first found out he was HIV positive he went into denial. He refused to see doctors or take any medications. He felt good. He was certain the doctors had made a mistake. “I figured they got my results mixed up with one of the other addicts at the clinic,” he said. “I kept telling myself no way … no how.”

  Kyle explained to me that the loss of his voice meant the cancer was spreading to his voice box. When I asked him if it hurt he shook his head.

  “What do you miss the most, Kyle?” I asked late one evening.

  Kyle started laughing and said, “I miss not being able to take a shower with a man or for that matter taking a shower by myself.”

  “Do you think they will ever find a cure for this?” I asked.

  “Yes, one day, but it will be too late for many of us,” Kyle said.

  Kyle told me how angry it made him that black people only started talking about AIDS once Magic Johnson and Arthur Ashe became infected. “What about all the black gay men and black women that have died? Aren’t they important too? We are their brothers and sisters too,” Kyle said. “Aren’t we, Ray?”

  “Yeah, Kyle, you’re right,” I said.

  “Damn straight I’m right! Ray, promise me something,” Kyle said softly.

  “Sure, Kyle, what?”

  “Don’t let this happen to you. You like to use your dick. Give up this shit. Find a woman,” Kyle said in a serious and mournful tone.

  “Come on, Kyle. It was you who got on me about my confused life. What happened to your gay pride?” I joked, trying to get him into a light mood.

  “I used all my pride being black,” he said. Kyle’s face was expressionless. I listened to his words and searched the room as though I was going to get some clue as to how to respond when Kyle started talking to himself.

  “Ray forget about what I just said. Be true to yourself and just be safe.”

  “I will, Kyle. I’ll always be safe.”

  “Some mornings when I wake up and the sun is shining brightly on my face I smile. I smile because for just a moment I think my life and body are the way they used to be. And when it hits me that I’m sick, I get so fucking mad at black gay men for loving me when I was young, healthy, and beautiful and then turning their backs on me now when I need them the most. But most of all I get mad at myself,” Kyle said. His voice was filled with an eruption of betrayal, hurt, and anger. Kyle glanced away as a pained look settled onto his face. There were moments of excruciating silence. I didn’t want to say or ask something stupid, but then Kyle’s special brand of humor kicked in.

  “You know what they say?” Kyle voiced.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Life’s a dick. You suck it, fuck it, and then you die,” he said with a hoarse laugh.

  I shook my head soberly.

  Thirty

  “Nicole, I have some bad news,” Kyle said sadly.

  “What, Kyle? What’s the matter?” I asked nervously.

  “You better sit down,” he instructed.

  I took a seat on the clothes-covered chair next to Kyle’s bed and looked into his eyes. I gently stroked his hands when he began to talk. My heart was beating so wildly I thought it would burst inside me like a water-filled balloon.

  “I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but I have to tell someone,” he said.

  “Come on, Kyle. It will be all right. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

  “You promise not to tell, anyone. Not even my mother or Raymond?”

  “I promise.”

&nbs
p; “All my credit cards are over the limit,” Kyle said, looking away from my eyes.

  Was I hearing him right? “What did you say, Kyle?”

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do. Every one of them,” Kyle said. His voice suddenly filled with laughter.

  “Kyle, stop messing with me,” I said as I hit him playfully.

  “Chirl, you should have seen your face,” Kyle said.

  “Kyle, that’s not funny. You scared me to death,” I said.

  “What happened to your sense of humor?” Kyle asked.

  “Where is your keeper?”

  “Who? Raymond or Peaches?”

  “Both.”

  “They went shopping for a Christmas tree,” Kyle said.

  “So I guess your big problem will put an end to your Christmas shopping,” I said.

  “Well, I’ve finished. Oh, please mail these cards and letters when you leave,” Kyle said as he handed me a stack of cards and two legal-sized envelopes. I dropped them into my bag, which was sitting beside the bed.

  “Okay. Have you talked to Delaney?”

  “Oh, she called this morning. She and Jody are coming by later,” Kyle said.

  “Do you know Jody?” I inquired about a girlfriend of Delaney’s who was visiting from California.

  “I’ve heard Delaney talk about her, but I haven’t met her yet,” Kyle said.

  “I haven’t met her either, but I’ve been busy with two shows and the cabaret,” I said.

  “Has she said anything about reporting that asshole or a least filing a lawsuit against him?” Kyle asked.

  “No, she spends her time at the Rape Counseling Center. Whenever I try to bring it up she bristles,” I said.

  “I think I’m going to ask Raymond to help,” Kyle said.

  “How?”

  “Well, his firm deals with entertainers; maybe they’ve had a case like this. I just don’t want to see the jerk get away without even a slap on the wrist,” Kyle said.

  “Yeah, you’re right. Sometimes I forget Raymond’s a lawyer.”

  “How is the new musical?”

  “I’ll know in a couple of hours. We’re having the final read through before we go into tryout rehearsals. The director said we would even have the music.”