“Ray.” It was Jared.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“Mr. J. D. Benton called. He’ll be in New York this evening. His flight arrives at seven-ten at Kennedy. I told him you would probably send a car for him,” Jared said.
“Consider it done. Jared?”
“Yes?”
“You’re the best.”
“I know,” Jared said as I hung up the phone. My heart was racing and Kyle was looking at me with a hurry-up-and-tell-me look.
“So what’s up?” Kyle asked.
“Are you ready for this?”
“Ready for what?” Kyle asked.
“Jared located your father. He’ll be here this evening,” I said.
Kyle was silent. He look toward the window, then at me, and he smiled faintly and nodded.
“Well, I better go in there and warn Peaches,” I said. When I reached the doorway Kyle called out my name.
“Ray,” he said.
“Yeah, buddy.”
“Thanks.”
I smiled.
The hours before the arrival of J. D. Benton seemed to take longer than a winter night descending into dawn. I could tell Kyle was nervous and Peaches was now drinking her vodka straight. Kyle asked me to wash the white pajamas Nicole bought him so he could have them on when his father arrived.
I offered to take Peaches to the movies or to a play so Kyle could have the time alone, but Peaches said she wasn’t having it.
Kyle and I sat in the bedroom just talking about days gone by. I told him about my wanting to go see what type of business now occupied the Nickel Bar’s infamous spot. Kyle laughed and said that was a great idea. Kyle asked me if I’d talked with Janelle and if she and Christopher were going to make his birthday party. I assured him I would call once I got back to the hotel to make sure she was coming.
“Are you excited about seeing your father?” I asked.
“I’m kinda nervous,” Kyle said.
“Oh, it will be fine,” I assured.
“Ray?”
“Yes, Kyle,” I said.
“Have I told you how lucky I am to have you as a friend for all these years?” Kyle said softly.
“I’m the lucky one,” I said.
“Not many people like me have friends like you,” Kyle said.
I didn’t say anything because I felt tears coming on. I started to imagine happy times … Kyle and I dancing wildly in the Nickel Bar to Chaka Khan’s “I’m Every Woman” and then to Whitney Houston’s new version following right after, the sounds beating faster than my heart after a hundred-yard dash. We danced as though we didn’t have a care in the world. As though everything was the way it used to be before AIDS infiltrated the planet.
I snapped out of my daydream as I heard the buzzer from downstairs sound and I looked over at Kyle. A single tear was sliding down his cheek. He quickly wiped at it with the back of his palm and glanced away.
I got up from the bed and walked to the front door to greet Kyle’s father. Peaches was sitting at Kyle’s sewing machine with a glass in one hand and a cigarette in the other. She looked at me and shook her head as I opened the door.
“Come on in, Mr. Benton. I’m a close friend of your son. My name is Raymond Tyler, Jr.,” I said as I extended my hand toward Kyle’s father. Kyle didn’t look exactly like him, but I could tell from his smile that he was indeed Kyle’s father.
“J. D. Benton. It’s a pleasure to meet you, young man,” J.D. said.
J. D. Benton was an athletically lean man of medium height. His paper sack brown face was shaped like a pear and his pepper-colored hair was thinning at the top. Thick eyebrows hovered over his enormous eyes. J.D. looked at Peaches and smiled. “It’s good seeing you, girl. Looks like you’re taking care of yourself,” J.D. said.
“Wish I could say the same about you,” Peaches mumbled.
J.D. looked at me and said, “Some things never change, young man.”
I took J.D.’s thin black garment bag and placed it in the closet. I told him he could stay in my hotel room and I would write down the directions and leave a key. When he asked where I was going to stay, I told him I was staying with a friend in Jersey City. I was thinking about Basil awaiting my visit to his villa.
“You sure, young man? I could stay here and sleep on the floor,” J.D. said.
“Oh no, you won’t,” Peaches chirped.
“No, don’t worry, Mr. Benton. I’ve already made the arrangements,” I said.
“Call me J.D.,” he said.
“Okay, J.D. You ready to see your son?”
“Yeah. You got anything to drink?”
“Sure. I should warn you Kyle’s had a tough time. He’s worried about how he looks,” I said as I gave J.D. a beer.
J.D. took a long swig of the beer, let out a loud belch, looked at me and said, “Let’s go.”
I led J.D. into Kyle’s room. Kyle was looking up at the ceiling in the still room. He seemed comfortable in his solitude.
“Kyle,” I said softly. “I’ve got somebody here to see you.”
“How you doin’, son?” J.D. said as he walked close to Kyle’s bed. Kyle didn’t react to his father’s greeting.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” I said.
Kyle looked at me and smiled as he formed the okay sign with his hand. I smiled back and said, “Let’s walk up to the Nickel Bar tomorrow. You think you’ll be up to that?”
“Yeah, that would be nice. Maybe tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow, baby boy,” Kyle said softly.
I gently shut the door. This was the first time I recalled the door being shut tightly in a long time. I felt Kyle and his father deserved the privacy. I made sure Peaches was all right and I darted out into the cold December darkness.
Daybreak came. I awakened from a restless sleep and slid from under Basil’s down blanket out onto the icy, cold hardwood floor and looked around the room for my clothing. The night before with Basil had been a lazy, soothing night, perfect for a one on one. Basil was happy to see me when I arrived. He told me how sorry he was about what happened with Dyanna. I was so hungry to sleep next to a warm body that I readily accepted the apology. My need to be caressed far outweighed my pride. I couldn’t think of a better body than Basil’s.
I didn’t tell Basil about Kyle’s illness. I just told him I was exploring some business options in New York. Basil, as self-assured as ever, was convinced I was considering moving to New York to be close to him.
Basil and I polished off a bottle of wine and listened to Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On” CD all night. We didn’t have sex, even though Basil’s sex was erect the entire night. We held each other, kissed, and brushed each other’s hair with the palm of our hands. I explained to Basil I had something on my mind and much to my surprise, he was very understanding. “But you owe me,” he said.
Basil emerged smiling from the shower and gave me two towels. After my shower, he brought up coffee and toast and offered to give me a ride back into the city. He said he didn’t have to be at the stadium until after lunch. I was anxious to get to Kyle’s and make sure Peaches and J.D. hadn’t killed each other.
Basil looked handsome in a brick-red cotton sweater and jeans. He was very talkative as we rode in his shiny black Porsche through the Holland tunnel back into the city. Basil blew his horn every two minutes to drivers who either recognized him or got in his way. As we got into town, Basil stopped talking and started adjusting the radio. It was a bright dreamy day. The peacock blue sky stretched out to eternity and a heatless winter sun was shining bright. As I listened to Christmas music from the radio, I thought maybe I could get in some shopping when Kyle and I made our sojourn to the Nickel Bar. There were several stores along Columbus Avenue where I could get gifts for Pops, Mom, and Kirby. “You want to go on a trip with me?” Basil asked, interrupting my shopping plans.
“A trip? Where?”
“The Black Ski Summit in January after the Pro Bowl,” Basil said. “Dyanna has a job and can’t go.”
“So I’m second choice. Where and when?”
“I don’t know the exact date but it’s in Vail.”
“As in Colorado?”
“Yes.”
“Can’t do it,” I said quickly.
“Why?” Basil asked.
“Don’t you know about the boycott?”
“What boycott?”
“They passed an anti-gay law up there and a lot of people are boycotting the state,” I explained.
“Aw, Ray, that’s white folks shit. Gay white boys don’t give a shit about us,” Basil said.
“Well, I don’t disagree with you on that, but I don’t think it’s right. If they think they can do it to gays, then it will be blacks and Jews next—or should I say again? You know history sometimes repeats itself,” I said.
“So you won’t go?”
“I won’t go to Vail, but I’d go to someplace like Vermont with you.”
“Vermont?”
“Yeah, I hear it’s beautiful there. We should try it.”
“I’ve already paid my money. Maybe I’ll ask another one of my bitches,” Basil said.
“Suit yourself. I’ve told you ’bout that shit. You really should check yourself, man. Bitches, faggots? You’re better than that.”
“Where is your hotel?” Basil asked, obviously slightly disturbed.
“Forty-Sixth right off Eighth Avenue,” I instructed. Then I thought maybe I should head straight up to Kyle’s just in case his father was still at my hotel room. I could stop at the hotel and offer him a ride, but Basil’s car was a two-seater.
“On second thought, take me up to Ninety-sixth and Broadway,” I said.
“You want to make a friendly wager?” Basil asked.
“A wager? on what?”
“The Sugar Bowl. Mighty Miami is playing countryassed Alabama,” Basil said. I was so involved with Kyle’s care that I forgot that Alabama was having a great football season.
“Let’s talk about it later, but sure I’ll bet something.”
“I know what I want if I win,” Basil smiled.
“Niggah, please,” I said as Basil sped up the West Side Highway.
“Who lives up there?” Basil asked.
“Kyle,” I said.
“How is he doing? You two still tight?”
I was silent for a couple of streetlights.
“Yes, we’re still tight. Basil, there’s something I should have told you. Kyle is sick,” I said.
“Sick? What do you mean?”
“You know,” I said.
“It’s not what I think, is it, Ray?”
“If you’re thinking AIDS, then yes,” I said soberly.
“Man, that’s fucked up. So that’s why you’re in the city,” Basil said as he maneuvered through the busy city traffic. When we reached a stoplight he gently tapped his head against the steering wheel.
“Yes. That’s why I’m here.”
“How are you holding up?”
“I’m hanging,” I said.
“Is there anything I can do?” Basil asked.
“No, not right now. But thanks for asking,” I said as I rubbed the palm of my hand across Basil’s hard thighs. Basil flashed his bright smile and asked me to call him later that evening to pay up. I smiled and promised at least to call him later. I informed him that I might need a place to stay.
When I walked into Kyle’s apartment I immediately sensed something was wrong. Peaches and J.D. were huddled on the sofa consoling one another.
“Ray,” Peaches said in a weak trembling voice. “Something is wrong with Kyle. He won’t wake up.”
“I just came out of his room. I think it’s over,” J.D. said.
I stopped in the center of the living room, gazed at the dressmaker’s dummy and the clear day outside the window. This was the moment I had dreaded since coming to New York. This couldn’t be happening I thought. This is a dream. Time, which had been our faceless companion for months, was ready for departure.
“Ray, will you go in there and wake him up?” Peaches said.
I didn’t answer. I just walked into Kyle’s bedroom and saw him resting peacefully.
“Kyle,” I called out. The room was silent. I moved close to the bed where Kyle was resting. I touched his face and it was icy cold. I reached under the blankets and pulled out Kyle’s limp arms, feeling for a pulse. Nothing. A dry sweat crept across my face. Kyle was dead.
I bit my lips and walked over to the window and silently counted five black cars and then slowly moved back to Kyle’s bed. No change. The inside of my stomach churned. I wanted to gather him in my arms and rock him back to life. I wanted to tell him everything would be all right, but instead I kissed his forehead and gently ran my hands across his face and closed eyes. I walked back into the living room where Peaches and J.D. were still huddled together. They looked up at me with imploring, anxious eyes.
“It’s over,” I announced. “Kyle’s gone home,” I said as I clenched my fingers into tight fists. Peaches screamed like an actress in a bad horror movie. Tears flowed down her face and she shook her head in disbelief. She was in a great deal of pain, but so was I. I gave Peaches a firm hug but she suddenly bolted from my embrace and raced into Kyle’s room. J.D. started behind her but I quickly grabbed him and said, “Let her have some time alone with him.” J.D. nodded and looked into my eyes. With his voice choked with sadness he said, “Tell me about my son.”
“There isn’t enough time right now. I have so much work to do.”
Part Three
Love
When You
Least Expect It
Thirty-two
My heart should be used to this. My heart does not stop for death but it hurts. It was death that pulled Raymond and me apart. It was death that brought us back together. Back together in something more powerful than what we shared before. A friendship based on love, mutual respect, and honesty. A friendship of the heart.
Though I thought I was prepared, Kyle’s death shocked me. I knew his health was fading fast but I thought he would make it to Christmas and his birthday. When Raymond called I went into shock and then uncontrollable tears. Delaney came over and the tears started again the moment I opened the door and saw her standing there. We cried in each other arms before leaving for Kyle’s apartment.
We didn’t have a chance to see Kyle before they took him to the crematorium. He was cremated in the twilight of the day he died. Raymond, in a very organized manner, was taking care of everything, rapidly. He was sitting at Kyle’s sewing machine with a list, marking off tasks as he completed them or assigned them to one of Kyle’s family members or friends. He took Kyle’s loose-leaf phone book and gave Delaney and me pages of Kyle’s friends to call and inform them of Kyle’s death. This was not a pleasant task. Most of the phone calls were short; Kyle’s friends would thank us for calling and ask if there was going to be a funeral. Raymond also took on the task of peacemaker. Kyle’s family started to come in from Jersey, all demanding a funeral and a look at Kyle’s will. He informed them there wouldn’t be a funeral, but he was going ahead with the plans for the party and they could pay their respects there. He would read the will after the party.
I learned Kyle’s father had come to town and visited Kyle before his death, but he’d left shortly after Kyle died because he and Peaches were at each other’s throats. Kyle’s father blamed Peaches for Kyle being gay and therefore for his death by what he considered a gay disease. Peaches threatened to kill him. Despite his father’s ignorance I was glad Kyle got to see him before he died. When Delaney and I saw Peaches we gave her a collective hug. She started sobbing hysterically and then suddenly collapsed. Raymond picked her up gently and placed her limp body in Kyle’s bed. Delaney prepared cold compresses and laid them on her head and sat at the edge of the bed for hours. Raymond went in to relieve Delaney and I think they even exchanged a smile.
I was finding it difficult to spend time in Kyle’s bedroom. I was somewhat relieved when
Delaney volunteered to look after Peaches. I kept thinking about my last conversation with Kyle. Had I been a good friend to him? Did my disappointment over my breakup with Raymond and Candance’s death cloud my feelings toward all gay men, including Kyle?
I hoped Kyle really knew how much I loved him. I loved him for who he was, for what he taught me about myself and the feelings I was too afraid to acknowledge. More importantly he made me realize that many are born male, but it took more than what you did in the bedroom to be a man. Kyle Alexander Benton was a man in the real sense of the word.
Instead of having the party on Kyle’s birthday, we held it on Christmas Day. It was not the type of Christmas I’d planned. About thirty of Kyle’s friends came by and Janelle came up from North Carolina with her little boy, Christopher. Janelle looked a lot different. She appeared slimmer than I recalled and she was a lot nicer to me. We actually exchanged pleasant conversation about her son and her graduate studies. I suppose marriage and living in the South were agreeing with her. When I’d first met Janelle, I didn’t like her at all and I think the feeling was mutual. She was constantly making fun of my beauty pageant experiences by asking questions as though she was really interested. I could tell she was just patronizing me by her tone and the way she looked at Kyle. Kyle later confirmed my suspicions, but explained that she didn’t mean any harm. “She’s just a fag hag,” he said. When I asked Kyle if I was a fag hag he just laughed and said, “Not yet. It takes years of training and you haven’t even been to a gay bar yet.” I came to realize fag hag was a term of endearment.
The party was really nice. Raymond opened it with a prayer and then explained Kyle’s desire that we all celebrate his life, not mourn his passing. He stressed that Kyle didn’t want any tears, so everybody agreed that if they felt tears coming on they would leave the room. Several people did leave the room after telling their stories, mostly funny, about Kyle and what he meant to their lives. I shared a story about how Kyle always acted fearful whenever we got on an elevator with white people. Kyle would clutch his chest and playfully tremble in fear and, of course, they looked at him strangely. “I want them to know how we feel when they act that way toward us,” Kyle had told me the first time he did it. Everybody in the room laughed and said in unison, “That’s Kyle.” Delaney told a story of how Kyle fell out of love quickly when the guy he was seeing said “those three words.” “I asked Kyle why he was afraid of ‘I love you’ but he explained that those weren’t the three words he meant. ‘What words then?’ I asked. ‘Lay a Way,’ Kyle said.” The room rocked with laughter.
Just As I Am Page 30