I Say a Little Prayer (11 page)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“T
his
man must have really rocked your world, Chauncey,” Skylar said.

I stirred a packet of sweetener in my glass of tea as the two of us sat in a booth at the Cheesecake Factory in the heart of Buckhead. It was a little before six, but there had still been a fifteen-minute wait at the popular restaurant, which was short considering it was Friday evening and the parking lot was packed.

While we waited for a table, I told Skylar the full story about my relationship with Damien. He already knew that he was now a minister and running for the Senate.

“I still can’t believe what he did to me,” I said as I looked at the colorful menu.

“Tell me, child. Was it a big scandal? Did he beat you?” Skylar asked, almost a little too eagerly.

“No, but he betrayed me like no one else has ever done. It still hurts to this day,” I said, remembering the day it happened as if it were just twenty-four hours before.

“Did you catch him with another man or, heaven forbid, a
woman
?” Skylar said as he mockingly stuck his finger in his mouth.

“No, I didn’t catch him with anyone, but someone caught us,” I said. I told Skylar how our manager, Mr. Butler, called us into his suite after one of our performances and asked us what was going on. He wanted to know why we felt the need to spend so much time together after our shows. It seemed that someone on the security team had told him that almost every morning he saw Damien or me leaving the other’s room. Before I could respond or deny the allegations, Damien spoke up. He told Mr. Butler that he was counseling me and holding prayer with me. When Mr. Butler asked for what, Damien said that he was working to rid me of my “homosexual demons.”

Skylar’s eyes were as wide as silver dollars. “No, he didn’t call you out like that!”

I nodded sadly as I relived what I had felt that day. The sadness and disappointment overwhelmed me. “I stood there stunned while Mr. Butler told me how my being gay would ruin the group if any magazines or fans found out. He commended Damien for trying to help me. And then he turned to me and asked if the prayer thing was working.”

“I hope you told him a thing or two.”

“I was too stunned to say anything. There I was standing next to the man I loved, who told me that he loved me. And he had turned his back on not only me but our relationship.”

“So you didn’t say anything?” Skylar asked.

“Not a thing. When the tears started to roll down my face, I raced out of Mr. Butler’s suite and went straight to my room. Later that day, someone slid a letter under my door. I still remember shaking as I read those words. The letter said that I was no longer a member of Reunion and, if I wanted to receive future royalties, I had to sign the attached statement stating that I would never talk about why I was leaving the group. They even had the nerve to tell me to never speak in public about Barron, Darron, or Damien.”

“I cannot believe that,” Skylar said.

I wanted to tell Skylar that to this day, I still couldn’t believe it, either. I said, “What was so amazing was that there were so many things going on in that group but nothing else seemed to matter. Barron had a fourteen-year-old girl he was sleeping with. She hung around us so much, you would have thought she was a member of the group as well.”

Skylar raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t that against the law?”

“I guess not in Illinois,” I said.

“So did Damien come back later for a little makeup love?”

I stared silently for a minute—Damien’s face and the way he looked at me that day still smoldered in my mind. It was not the look of love that I’d come to know, but one of disgust.

“He did apologize, didn’t he?” Skylar asked.

“I never saw him again,” I said sadly.

Although I didn’t know what I was going to do, I wanted Skylar’s opinion. A part of me still had feelings for Damien even after all these years, but another part felt anger at the way our relationship had ended. Now his current stance against gay people fueled my rage even more. What would his wife and his political party say if they found out about his past, about me?

“Chauncey!” Skylar yelled, breaking me out of my tea-stirring trance.

“What?” I said as I laid down the long, thin spoon alongside the pink torn packets of sweetener.

“I thought you wanted to talk about this?” Skylar said.

“I’m just wondering what I should do.”

“I think you should call a press conference right before he comes to town and tell the world in your best suit that ‘this man was my lover.’ You know, pull an Amber Frye on him,” Skylar said with a laugh. He looked around the restaurant for the waiter.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“I need something stronger than this lemonade. I don’t know what I was thinking. I need a drink. Oh, there he goes. Hey, you,” Skylar said, waving at the waiter who had taken our order.

The waiter came over and Skylar ordered not one but two glasses of wine. When I looked at him with raised eyebrows, he leaned over and whispered, “Who are we kidding here, honey? We both know I’ll be ordering another glass. So let’s save some time.”

I just shook my head. Maybe after a couple glasses of wine Skylar might have some advice I could use. I never really thought of “outing” Damien, because that simply wasn’t my style and what purpose would it serve? I just wanted to talk to Damien so that I could understand what he was doing with his life. I wanted him to understand my life, too, and respect it.

“Have you seen all those billboards of ‘your man’ all over the city with that wife of his? I must say, he is something if you like the pretty-boy look,” Skylar said.

“What billboards?” I asked.

“They’re all up and down I-85 and, of course, all over I-20, you know, where most of your people live,” Skylar laughed.

“I guess I need to take a trip down I-20 and see,” I said.

The waiter delivered a plate of pasta for me and an appetizer portion of ribs for Skylar. The food silenced us for a few minutes.

“Well, at least you fell in love with a smart man,” Skylar said as he placed a half-eaten rib on the saucer.

“How do you know he’s smart?” I asked as I decided against another piece of garlic bread.

“Look at the career he picked. Preaching and politics are the world’s greatest hustles,” Skylar said.

“He could be serious about saving souls.”

“Yeah right, just like I’m interested in starting a long-term relationship with every man I let in my bed.”

I chuckled to myself. “Now that you know why I avoided love for all these years, tell me why you run from real love,” I said.

“Chauncey, who said I run from love? True love runs from me. You gotta chase it. But most times love is wearing track shoes, and you know I don’t like to sweat,” Skylar said, and laughed.

“Have you ever really been in love?”

“Not really,” Skylar said sadly.

“Not even when you were young?”

Skylar didn’t answer; instead, he took a long gulp and finished his first glass of wine, then took a quick swig of his second glass. There was a look of sadness in his eyes, and melancholy seeped into our booth and took over.

After a few minutes of silence, I gently touched his hand. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”

More silence passed and Skylar finished his second glass of wine, then motioned toward the waiter and ordered a third. After one sip on glass number three, Skylar began to cautiously reveal his story of lost love.

“I was in love once, but it didn’t work out,” he said softly and slowly.

“How old were you?”

“Sixteen.”

“What was his name?”

“Tank. Tank Malloy, and he was the best wrestler in Cleveland, and maybe the entire state of Ohio. His skin was as dark as chocolate and as smooth as a Dove bar. He was bowlegged, and had hair on his face before he was sixteen.”

“Did he go to your high school?”

“No, he lived on the other side of town and went to Central West, which was our archrival. I met him when I was visiting some of my cousins and he rode past their house on a ten-speed bike with no shirt on. I was just mesmerized.”

“What happened when you met him?”

“You mean the first or second time?” Skylar asked.

“What do you mean first or second?”

“I didn’t really meet him the first time. I asked my cousin who he was, and she told me his name and that he was already having sex with some girl from the neighborhood who was going to Ohio State University. Since everybody in my family knew I was gay, it was no big deal for me to tell my cousin that I wanted to meet him. I’m glad I never really had any issues about what I wanted. The biggest choice I had to make when I was growing up was how tight I was going to wear my short-shorts. I knew what I wanted, and that was Tank Malloy. I was going to do whatever it took to get him.”

“So did your cousin introduce you to him?”

“Not really. She told me he was all boy. She also said he rode his bike every evening and played baseball or something at the Little League field. So for about three days in a row, I went down to the field and watched him from the fence. He was always the last one to leave, and I would just stare at him like he was the only boy on the planet.”

“Come on, Skylar, tell me how you met him,” I said impatiently.

“I realized my tight jeans and Izod shirts were the wrong outfits. I went back home, and for about a week, I plotted out my plan. When I went back to visit my cousin, I waited until it was dark and I strutted down to the ball field in the tightest little poom-poom shorts, some white tennis shoes with matching socks, and a little white midriff blouse. You know, my skin was as flawless as it is now, and I had an apple-bum ass that had all the girls in my high school wanting to scratch my eyes out. I used one of my mother’s nice silk scarves and her Dutch-boy wig, stole some makeup out of Kmart, and I was ready to claim my man.”

I looked at Skylar with a puzzled look, wondering if I was hearing him right.

“You dressed in drag?”

“I don’t know if you could call it drag. I was a naturally pretty boy and I just did a little enhancing. I guess you could say it was my first real makeover.” Skylar smiled.

“I don’t know what to say.” Why did Skylar’s confession make me nervous?

“Oh, baby, ain’t no shame in my game. It turned out to be the best move I ever made.”

“What happened? Did he know you were a guy?”

Skylar motioned to the waiter to bring the check, then looked over at me.

“I can’t finish my story now, honey, I’ve got a hot date tonight. Drag-free, of course. I’ll have to continue this story at a later date. But let me warn you, it’s a trilogy.”

“I can’t wait,” I said as I reached for my wallet and pulled out a credit card.

CHAPTER TWENTY

I
took one last spoonful of raisin bran and picked up the ringing phone on the kitchen counter. Before I said hello, I put the Saturday edition of the
Morning Show
on mute. I usually didn’t answer the kitchen phone, because it didn’t have caller ID.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were singing at a revival?” It was my sister Belinda.

“I thought I told you, but if I didn’t, how did you find out?” I asked.

“Mama told me. And like her, I didn’t think I would ever hear my brother’s beautiful voice again. I’m thinking about coming with Mama and Daddy to the revival.”

I thought for a moment before saying, “Well, I’m not certain I’m going to do the revival.”

“What? That’s all Mama has been talking about. She and Daddy are so excited. Why aren’t you singing?”

“It’s a very long story.”

“I got time. Let me just shut the door to the kitchen,” Belinda said.

As I waited, I wondered how much I should tell Belinda.

“Okay, I’m back. Now, tell me what’s going on. I was going to check to see if I could take some time off and come down with Mama and Daddy and maybe stay a few days after they leave so we can visit.”

“What about your husband and kids?”

“They won’t even know I’m gone,” Belinda said mournfully. “To tell you the truth, one morning I might just get in my car and keep driving, right out of my neighborhood, past the school, and out of this city to some place where nobody knows me.”

“Are you all right?” I asked. I did not like the sound of my sister’s voice.

“I’m okay.” She sighed. “It’s just one of those days when I’m feeling sorry for myself. Wondering if life is just passing me by.”

“How long have you been feeling like this?” I was concerned about my sister, but at the same time, I was relieved to take the focus off of me.

“It comes and it goes,” Belinda said. “I don’t think I’m depressed or anything. Just disappointed by some of the opportunities I’ve let pass me by. That’s why I was so excited when Mama told me you were singing again. I always thought it was a big mistake when you didn’t go after a solo career when you left the group. Does your long story have something to do with that?”

“Not really,” I said quickly, then added, “Well, maybe just a little.”

“What?”

“Before I talk about that, I want to make sure you’re all right. I haven’t ever heard you sound so depressed.”

“All I need is to see my brother and hear that marvelous voice of his. That will cure whatever’s bothering me, and I know Mama will just die if you make them cancel the trip.”

“So they’re really excited, huh?” I already knew the answer to my question, but I’d done my best not to think about what my parents might say if I decided not to perform.

“It’s like they were going to the White House for dinner and President Clinton was still the commander in chief.” Belinda laughed.

“Have you registered to vote?” I asked, trying not to talk about me and the upcoming singing engagement.

“Are you kidding? I was raised by your parents, too. Even though I don’t think it’ll matter. This state is redder than the blood flowing through my body.” My thoughts went back to my childhood when my parents took Belinda and me with them when they voted and told us how important it was.

“Well, you never know,” I said as I looked at my watch. I lied and told Belinda that I had a meeting and that I would call her later on.

“You promise? I wanna hear about that long story.”

“I promise, and please don’t say anything to Mama and Daddy about me not singing. I’m praying on it, and I hope to get an answer soon,” I said.

“I’m sure you’ll get the right answer. Have a great day.”

“You too, big sis,” I said as I hung up the phone.