The End of the Rainbow

by Dontá Morrison

Tyrin turned his head towards the window and by reading his body language he already knew what the answer was going to be. However, he had to hear it come out of his mouth. He squirmed in his seat and forced himself to continue on with the interrogation.

  “How many times Tyrin?”

  “I can’t remember,” he uttered.

  “You can’t remember? Wow, that’s interesting. Why didn’t you at least wear a condom? Was it that good for you?”

  He looked back at the ceiling and as the tears started to run out the side of his eyes, he began to speak, “He said he had never been with a man before and I was an experiment. I knew I was clean and I thought he was too because he said he had never been with a guy. The first time I felt bad because I knew that I had broken my vow to you, but after that it just got easier and easier. I knew he was lying about the whole experimentation thing when he brought his friend into the picture. I swear to you that I didn’t sleep with his friend, but I did watch them fuck each other. They wanted me to join in but I just couldn’t. That’s when I cut it off and told him that I was cool on the whole situation. I missed you so much, I was going crazy without you and I couldn’t take it.”

  “I was gone for three months. It was only three fucking months, Tyrin. I stayed faithful to you for five fucking years, and you couldn’t give me three months.” Khalil was now done with being sensitive to the situation and sat up on the edge of the seat. “And Craig knew about this the whole time?” Tyrin knew the energy had shifted in the room and saw no need to keep anything hidden any longer. He was ready to get everything out in the open, in hopes of restoring the relationship.

  “He walked in on us once. I prayed that this would never get to this point and I have never been with anyone else before or after that situation. I wanted to tell you about all of it, long before now, but Craig told me it would make matters worse. I’ve been carryingthis weight around for so long and a piece of me is glad that it’s out. Now we can start fresh, put this behind us, and make things right again. Khalil I am so sorry about all of this. But you are my life!” He looked him dead in the eyes, and with fear in his voice, he begged,

  “Please don’t leave me. If I had the chance to do it all over again, none of this would have happened.”

  “It’s funny you should say that, because if I had it all to do over again, I would have never given you my phone number. But unfortunately we can’t change any of this.” Khalil stood to his feet, before starting again, “However, for the record, I never stopped loving you. I’m sorry you were made to feel so belittled and unloved, but that was not my intention. I honestly thought you were stronger than all of this, but you have opened my eyes to a whole new you. Had you told me it was only one time I probably could have tried my best to work through it, but when you said you couldn’t remember how many times you slept with him, it burned me to the core,” Khalil said calmly. He was so calm that it was actually a bit unnerving. “You know what I need right now? I need a blunt! A big, thick, kush filled, chocolate motherfucking blunt!” he looked at Tyrin and then at his watch, “I need to go.”

  “I love you.” Tyrin said.

  “Fuck You.” Khalil calmly replied while standing over the bed.

  “I’m sorry for hitting you.” Tyrin was trying his best to say the right thing that would calm Khalil down and somewhat smooth out the conversation.

  “OK, now you’re reaching. I understand though, you’re scared of losing me and you will apologize for anything right about now. You will say whatever it takes to keep me from walking out the door. But guess what Tyrin, I was gone before I entered the room.”

  “Baby. Please don’t make any rash decisions.” Tyrin tried to reach for him but the restraints on the bed kept him from achieving that. He grew frustrated by the fact that he was in this position and started to breathe heavier as he thought of what was about to come next.

  “What’s done is done Tyrin, neither of us can change that. I have to live the rest of my life with your weakness. However, I can now honestly say that after hearing what you just confessed to me, and I do appreciate your openness, I will more than likely begin to hate you. Uhmmm, I haven’t gotten the results back from my test yet, but I am more than certain that I am infected, primarily because I trusted my body to you, which was a mistake on my part. Part of me is sorry that you tried to kill yourself, and part of me is sorry that you didn’t succeed. Right now I don’t know which way is up and you had better be thankful that I have pity for you, because I am fighting the urge to crack your head open with this chair.”

  Khalil looked down at his estranged lover with hatred, hurt, and sadness, all rolled into one. He took the diamond ring off of his finger and placed it on Tyrin’s rapidly rising chest. Khalil softly caressed the face of the man he once couldn’t live without and planted a farewell kiss on his forehead, “Take care of yourself.”

  “Baby, don’t do this to me. Oh God, I can’t make it without you.” His voice was engulfed with sadness and his face was covered in tears.

  “Yes you can. You did it for three months.” As he walked toward the door, he stopped and said, “When you get out of here call me and I will let you know when you can come and get your shit. We will do all of the legal paperwork regarding the properties when we are both up to it, but as it stands right now I think you might want to start looking for a place to live.” He turned and continued to walk out the door.

  Tyrin yelled like a man being tortured “Khalil! Khalil! Come back, please, come back!” As he continued to walk down the corridor he came to a nurse and shared with her, “I think the guy in room 331 may need a sedative.”

  FOURTEEN

  The three friends sat in the bar watching the rough looking drag queens perform vintage songs by their diva of choice. Khalil begged his friends to accompany him because he needed an escape from all that he was going through. He was expecting to see something different, but as he sat there and observed his surroundings, he noticed that nothing had really changed.

  Tonight was “Female Impressionist and Karaoke Night” at The Study. It was actually packed from wall to wall with brothers out for a comic night on the town. There was nothing like seeing a man, dressed like a woman, looking like a man. Some of the fellas put it down when it came to the feather boas and sequined gowns, but others just looked flat out trashy in their great grandmother’s wigs and pantyhose so thick they looked like tube socks. The spackling they used for make-up would make a real woman look like she had ten layers of skin, but these brothers had to cover up razor bumps and stubble, so it they were a mess from top to bottom.

  They sat in the aged, red vinyl, booths that had silver electrical tape covering the rips and knife slashes; while the jukebox in the corner blasted out songs by Natalie Cole, Sylvester, and Patti Labelle. The Study was the epitome of seedy, but guaranteed to provide you with a good time. It had a faithful crowd of followers that stemmed from 18 to 80 years old, all with their own share of drama.

  On a good night you might catch a celebrity or two, enjoying one of the shows and using that as their excuse to be in a gay bar. Nobody gave a fuck though, if you were gay, then damn it, be gay. Hell, be gay onscreen too while you’re at it. Celebrities knew that nobody would drop dime on them as long as they played it cool, and didn’t start flashing their awards around. Stick to those rules and their secret was safe here.

  The queens paraded up and down the aisles lip-syncing Whitney, Natalie, Chaka, and of course, Diana; while brothers tipped them dimes, nickels, quarters and sometimes dollars. They worked hard for their money and put on a good show, but some just looked so ludicrous that you couldn’t believe they had the audacity to come out in public. “Look at that bitch’s wig. I have never seen a wig that needed a perm. Boo- bitch- boo!! Where the hell is Sandman, because he needs to bring his cane and tap shoes, and escort your ass out of here with that shit you got on?” Spencer heckled at the performer.

  “Spencer you better shut up before that he-she comes over here and whoops your a
ss,” Khalil said.

  “You ain’t lying, that is a big bitch,” he agreed with full on laughter.

  “That motherfucker won’t be an easy ass win, but all three of us together can take him, her, or whatever you want to call it.” Kerrion said as he took a sip of his drink.

  They watched a few more performers and as the entertainment shifted to Karaoke, Spencer begged Khalil to sing for the crowd. After about a half hour of nagging and aggressively persuading, he agreed and told Spencer to pick out the song. He carefully browsed through the catalog of music and upon a song that he knew Khalil would belt out with the beauty it so rightfully deserved. He grabbed the pencil, wrote out the number and took it to the machine operator, never revealing to Khalil what he would be singing. As Khalil sat there trying to get a hint of what he was about to perform, Spencer just sat there with a Joker-like grin on his face while repeating, “You are about to blow it up in here, they ain’t heard nobody sing till they heard you.”

  “Whatever,” He shyly said.

  Moments later they heard a voice come from the microphone saying, “Next up, we have Spencer’s’ best friend” as Khalil looked at his boy that sat next to him he couldn’t help but crack a smile.

  All of the brothers watched as he walked up to the microphone, some went back to their game of pool, others snickered like he wasn’t about to do anything worth paying attention to. As he stood there in front of the microphone waiting for the prompter to show him what Spencer was setting him up to do, feelings of nervousness began to come over him and he started to feel his hands grow moist. There was nothing more brutal than a gay audience, and he knew these fools were ready to eat him alive.

  The operator finally had everything in place and as he looked at the screen waiting to see his challenge, Spencer yelled out, “You better sing K!” He chuckled into the microphone, and when he saw the title, “Open Up my Heart by Yolanda Adams”, he laughed even louder.

  Somebody from across the room blurted out, “Oh hell naw, don’t fuck up my song.” As the music started, Khalil stood there shaking his head in defeat, but when the words popped onto the screen, he opened his mouth and like a bird began to sing the song in a fashion that made all eyes focus in on him. When his voice began to soar across the bar and hit the eardrums of every church going gay man present, they all stood to their feet applauding and shouting “Bitch you better take us in!”

  He was in a zone now, taking it all in like a hungry vocalist feeding off the cheers of his listeners. With every note, every breath, his vocal capability was becoming more prevalent. He wasn’t thinking about Tyrin, he wasn’t thinking about tomorrow’s phone call to the doctor, he wasn’t even thinking about the virus; all he thought about was producing a sound that would bring a tear to every man in the room. He opened his eyes and saw men of every age on their feet, hands waving in the air.

  He knew some of the struggles they faced as it pertained to being loved by the church. Many of them were so turned off and hurt by the church that this was as close to live gospel music as they would come. He prayed that even in this alternate environment, someone would feel encouraged and inspired. He understood the message of the song and appreciated the transparency of the lyrics. He wanted to impart that message of hope into the hearts and minds of the beautiful black gay men that were under the sound of his voice, so he sang with everything inside of him.

  When the song ended, a room full of smiling faces that were enlightened by his performance applauded him. He looked down at his feet and noticed bills of different denominations. As the various presidents stared up at him, he smiled because for the first time in two days, he felt a hint of peace about his current situation.

  “You wore that out. I knew they wouldn’t be ready for you. You my dog for life.” Spencer said, wrapping his arms around him as he returned to his seat.

  “I almost cut a step, but my drink would have spilled,” Kerrion added.

  “Thanks. I’m going to the bathroom, watch my seat for me.”

  As he pushed his way through the crowd and headed toward the bathroom, he felt a hand grab his. He looked to see who it was and stopped dead in his tracks. Lorenzo, a beautiful bla-tino specimen, was one of Khalil’s biggest temptations back in the day. He used to be head over heels for Khalil but due to his love for Tyrin he never gave him the time of day.

  Lorenzo stood there gripping his hand and penetrated his body with a smile that would make any man think twice about his sexuality. As Khalil felt his hand begin to sweat out of sheer nervousness, he politely slid it from his grasp. “You still got that voice. How are you doing?” He asked, as he leaned back on the barstool with his legs open and inviting. Khalil turned his head to avoid any further temptation, because he knew that if he gave Lorenzo an inch of opportunity it would be all over.

  “I’m well, how about yourself?” He replied, nervously looking around the bar, like he was going to get caught.

  “Could be better, but I’m still alive and I have time.”

  “Time for what?”

  “That special someone in my life.” He grinned, and the sexy bass in his voice was causing Khalil to melt on the inside. “So where is your pit bull Tyrin? He still got you hemmed up?”

  “Funny you should ask. We actually went our separate ways recently.” He said with a sad chuckle.

  “So that explains this.” he stated while gently rubbing his thumb over Khalil’s mildly swollen lip.

  “Anyway,” he said, backing his face away from the stroke. “I am now a single man and this was the first place I decided to visit. Sad isn’t it.”

  “It is if you’re looking for what I’m looking for.”

  “And what is that.”

  “Someone to settle down and find happiness with.”

  He looked at this six-foot-four god, with beautifully plaited cornrows, and wanted to eat him alive. But the sound of the word happiness didn’t sit well with him. He shook his head and looked into the crowd at all of the men that were walking around, and realized that he had been cheated out of happiness. Happiness was in his grasp and it slipped right through his fingers like sand on the shore.

  He looked back at this papi and thought of taking him back to his house and fucking the shit out of him. But, he realized how unfair it would be to Lorenzo, who obviously would want more after the encounter. The morality issue was also weighing heavy and he was beginning to realize that a life of one night stands was not for him, neither was the possibility of ever meeting someone that would be willing to deal with all he had on his plate.

  As he locked eyes with Lorenzo, self-control was slowly oozing out of him. But he knew that he had an obligation, more so now than ever, to discuss intimacy and the consequences thereafter. He politely patted him on his highly toned chest, smiled and said, “Good luck on your search. I’ll see you around O.K.”

  He turned and walked back toward Spencer and Kerrion and told them he was ready to leave. He explained that he was not ready for this atmosphere. As they reluctantly got their belongings and headed towards the door, Khalil felt his eyes begin to water, but he sucked back the tears and darted out the exit.

  Kerry and Spencer tried their best to keep up with him, but the faster he walked the more the tears began to well up in his eyes. He dare not let them see him crack, so with all the power in him he began to pray,”Lord, keep me strong. Hold my hand. Help me to get control. Lord I need your help. Comfort me, comfort me, comfort me.” He began to regain his composure and by the time they caught up with him, he had it somewhat under control.

  “Khalil what’s wrong? Did somebody bother you in there? Which one was it?” Kerrion asked.

  “Nobody bothered me. It’s just too soon for all of this. Stop staring at me Spencer. Please.”

  “Well let’s go get a pastrami or something, I’m hungry,” Kerrion said.

  “I’m cool. Spencer, I need a favor. Take me to my mom’s house. Just drop me off and leave me there. I need to talk to my mom.” his voice was begin
ning to crack, but he held it together.

  Spencer remained silent and unlocked the car. He headed toward Vanessa’s residence and as the three of them sat in the vehicle trying to make small talk, he knew that his boy was in pain. He drove and wished that he had something wise to say to his friend, but all of his thoughts were jarred by the vision of his best buddy living his life with a deadly disease. He felt helpless and that was eating him up inside. There had to be something he could do, but what? How could he say he understood what he was going through, when he isn’t infected? He hated being in this position, because normally he has something to say for every situation, but this one time, he was speechless.

  “You excited about seeing Andre this weekend?” Khalil asked Kerrion.

  “Actually I am. We talk everyday and he is truly growing on me. I wish that he wasn’t so far away though, because sometimes during our conversations I want to just reach out and hold him.”

  “That’s nice. Don’t let those feelings die. Always do your part, that way if it ever ends you can never be the blame.”

  “Is that what happened with you?” Kerrion asked.

  “Let Tyrin tell it. I just think he was a greedy bastard that wanted more than what he already had. But such is life and all the trials attached to it.”

  “So he really tried to kill himself, huh?” Spencer asked.“Yep. It was a sight to see. I honestly felt sorry for him until he opened his mouth and began to talk that bullshit about being unloved and lonely. Fuck him, let’s talk about something else,” Khalil said.

  “Like what, fine ass Lorenzo maybe? You didn’t waste no time trying to get your groove back Stella,” Kerrion joked.

  “OK! First he sang the hell out of Yolanda Adams. Then he started to walk around with an “Ass for Sale” sign on is butt. Did you get his number?” Spencer asked.

  “No,” Khalil said quietly.

  “Why not?” They both chimed.

  “I have too much going on right now to be trying to get caught up with somebody new.”