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Getting To The Good

By "J"

October, 2000 ©

 

 

 

 

Chapter XXVII


I had to do something, but what? I was in my boxers; I couldn't march downstairs dressed like that. I also couldn't afford to go up to my room and dress. Time was not on my side. Craig could--and would--open his mouth and expose all. That's obviously what he was
here to do. Why else would he want to talk to my parents?

"What's on your mind, Craig?" Mom asked.

"It's about your son."

No. No. He can't. He won't! Especially not after what Dad had said..."I'd kill him dead before I'd allow that." I leaned against the wall, only minutes away from hyperventilating. My back was to the wall,literally.

"What's wrong?" Mom asked.

"I don't know how to say this."

I started down the steps, realizing I had no other option but to confront Craig and keep him from talking. The phone rang, halting me three steps from the bottom. Thankfully, our staircase was interior and kept me hidden from view.

"Hold on a sec, Craig," Mom said. "Hello? Oh, hi. How are you, Maya? Well, I'm fine. I hear you and my son had a lovely time last time. No, no, I haven't talked to Tracy yet. He's still asleep."

I proceeded down the rest of the steps and entered the living room. I yawned, putting on a front as though I'd just woke up. "Morning. I didn't know we had company down here," I lied.

I glared at Craig, shooting venom through my eyes. You bastard! He just smiled at me.

"Tracy, telephone. It's Maya," Mom said.

I took the phone, but maneuvered so that I was still able to listen to Mom, Dad and Craig talk. "Hello?"

"Hey, baby. I was thinking about you. I wanted to hear your voice," Maya said.

"I've been thinking about you, too."

Craig's smile faded. His eyes became steely. His lip curled.

Mom went over to the sofa and sat next to Craig.
"Now, you were saying?"

Craig cleared his throat. "Right, right. Um...I don't know how to say what I gotta say, Mrs. D. I'm not a snitch. But I think you and Mr. D have a right to know."

"What are you doing today?" Maya asked over the phone.

"Uh...let me call you back, Maya. We've got a situation here."

"OK. I love you."

"OK. Bye," I said.

I hung up the phone and walked over and sat across from Craig and mom on the loveseat. "What's going on?"

"Craig was just getting ready to tell us something, Tracy," Mom said.

Craig and I exchanged icy glares. "Craig, don't." I couldn't keep my voice from trembling.

Mom looked between the two of us. "Don't what?"

"I have to. They deserve to know the truth."

I couldn't stop shaking my head. "No. No. No."

Dad stood. "What is the meaning of all these dramatics? McLemore, would you just say what you gotta say, boy?"

Craig nodded. "It's Duane," he replied. He stared at me knowingly.

So he was going to expose Duane, not me? I couldn't allow that either. I stood up. "Craig, don't do it. I'm begging you. This isn't right and you know it."

"What isn't right? Tracy, do you know what this is about?" Mom asked.

Craig kept silent. Mom and Dad's eyes bored into him, expecting him to finish what he had started. "Mr. D, Mrs. D, I think Duane is using."

"Using? Using what?" Dad asked.

"He's been hanging around these knuckle heads lately, guys that aren't even students, but kick it on the campus. They're drug dealers," Craig said.

Mom clasped her hands over her mouth. Dad collapsed into his chair. No one spoke.

"My boy knows better'n that," Dad said.

"Yes, yes. You're mistaken, Craig. Duane would not be in the company of drug dealers."

"And he damn sure wouldn't be using," Dad added.

"But I saw him. I saw him with my own two eyes."

"What? What did you see Duane do, Craig?"

Craig exhaled. "He was hitting the pipe, Mrs. D."

Mom gasped.

"What the fuck--" Dad leaned forward in his chair. "Are you trying to tell me my son is smoking crack?"

"Yes, sir. That's what I'm saying."

"You are a damned lie and you know it," I blurted. Everyone's eyes were on me. I shrank back from my violent outburst. "Mom, Dad. Come on. Duane wouldn't do anything like that. Don't jump to conclusions. Craig could be mistaken. You should talk to Duane."

Mom sat in disbelief. Dad turned to me. "What you know about this business?"

"Nothing." That was the truth. I had no knowledge of my brother smoking crack, ever.
"I saw him smoke weed once, that's all."

"Oh, Dear Lord," Mom cried out.

"But everybody does that, mom. And I only saw him that once. Weed is something totally different from crack!"

"Not my baby," Mom cried.

"Calm down, Mare. Don't get yourself all worked up. Our boy is right. We gotta talk to Duane," Dad said. "Now, I appreciate you stopping by, McLemore, but we've got a family situation here. I think it's best if you go."

"I understand, sir." Craig headed for the door.

I followed.

 

 

 


Chapter XXVIII

 



I held my hands behind my back, restraining them. If I let them hang at my sides, I feared there would be nothing to stop me from popping Craig in the mouth. And you know I wanted to hit him. No. I wanted to charge him, knock him on his smug ass and crush him,
stomp the hell out of him, wipe that self-serving smile off his face. I wanted to inflict pain on him for a change.

But that wouldn't solve anything; although, it would make me feel better. So I chilled.

"Is this your way of getting back at me for last night?" I asked.

"Why would I want to get back at you?" Craig asked.

"I came to the Travel Lodge, Craig. Room 106, just like you said. But I guess I was too late, right, cause you weren't there."

Craig smiled. "Of course I wasn't there." He moved closer to me, a half-step at a time. "I
never rented no motel room, kid. But you came anyway, didn't you? You came cause I told you to come."

No! I refused to accept this as truth. "You're lying."

Craig shook his head. "Admit it, kid." He came so close, his breath tickled my cheek. "I control you."

Then, he laughed so bitterly, I lost my carefully constructed cool. My fingers snapped around his neck and squeezed.

"Oh, you gon' kill me now?" He gasped, still smiling.

I tightened my grip, biting hard on my bottom lip to exert even more pressure. I was oblivious to everything but my fingers pressing against his skin. I squeezed so tight, I shook him. Craig's eyes bulged, and he pawed at my hands as fear creeped into his eyes.

It was my turn to smile. He was scared, and he had good reason to be. I could easily see myself killing him. At that moment, the thought of Craig McLemore dead at my hands thrilled me. It would eliminate so many worries, for me and my brother. It would eliminate a serious threat to the well-being of my entire family. More importantly, it would prevent this monster from ever pulling this shit with anybody else--ever.

I could not let go of his neck. Craig's slammed his forearms down onto mine, attempting to break my hold on him. I didn't feel any pain. He did it again. My grip loosened without my
knowing it, and this gave Craig opportunity to hit me in the ribs. I doubled over. Craig brought his fists crashing down on my head. I fell down on the concrete porch, writhing in pain. Craig's spit flew against my bare back, the insulting slime oozing over my skin.

"You crazy bitch," he gasped. "I still own you, bitch, and don't you forget it."

By the time I propped myself up on my knees, Craig was gone. I shook with anger as I rose up and went into the house. Mom and Dad were so consumed with talking to Duane on the phone, they barely noticed me.

After showering and changing, I grabbed mom's keys off the kitchen counter and took off. I needed time to get myself together, and I couldn't do it sitting at home on my ass. I needed to talk out my anger and get a grip on it. I went to the one person I could talk to about everything--my cousin Marv.

I pounded on his door, but it took several minutes before he answered the door. Marv cracked the door and peered out at me, his face worn, a white sheet draped across his lower torso.

"Oh, man. I'm sorry, Marv. You got company, don't you?"

He opened the door. "It' cool. Come in.'

I rushed past him and headed toward the living room. On my way, I passed Marv's bedroom. The door was wide open. His "guest" was sprawled across the bed, ass-out, one of his long legs dangling off the bed's edge. Marv ducked into the room and shut the door,
smiling sheepishly as he said, "Here, let me change real quick."

I sat down and thumbed through the magazines on Marv's coffee table while I waited. It was no use. I couldn't concentrate on reading. Craig had crossed a line. He was no longer playing fair. He was purposely trying to hurt me and Duane. He was out of control, and he was making me that way, too. Marv's bedroom door opened, and he emerged, followed
by his guest. Marv came over to where I was sitting. His guest headed for the bathroom.

I instantly recognized him. He was the only man I knew who wore his hair corn-rowed. However, I'd never seen him clad in black, low-cut briefs that left precious little to the imagination. "Cyrus."

"Hey, Tracy." He had that sheepish smile on his face that I'd seen on Marv's just a minute ago. A look of slight embarrassment. He went into the bathroom and closed the door.

I looked at Marv. He looked away.

I grinned. "BIG night, huh?"

"I see you still got jokes. Guess whatever's bothering you can't be so bad," he said.

I sighed and explained the reason for my visit. I told Marv about overhearing my parent's breakfast discussion, and dad's proclamation about "killing dead" before he'd allow one of his sons to go the gay way. Of course, I elaborated on Craig's visit, his threats, and the my obsession with hurting him.

"Damn cuz. I think I need a drink," Marv said.

"How do you think I feel? I mean this is my life. And Craig thinks he's controlling it."

"Well, Trace. You knew you were playing with fire getting hooked up with a dude that was doing your brother, too, especially considering that you have Rick Diggs as a dad."

The bathroom door opened and Cyrus crossed back to the bedroom, a white towel wrapped tightly around his hips.

"So is this thing between you and Cyrus new?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's new. I mean, I've always thought he was fine. Shit, I had the biggest crush on him back in the day, you know, when he was helping me come out. But I thought it was a one-sided crush," Marv said. "All along, he had a jones for me, too, and I never knew it."

Hearing that made me hopeful that one day, I, too, could be happy with the one I loved. Free from judgment and interference by others.

Marv stared at me. "I don't know what to tell you, cuz. You've dug yourself into a grave, it seems, and now Craig's holding the shovel that's getting ready to bury you."

I sprung off the couch. "I should be burying him, that blackmailing bastard. I could kill him, Marv. I could just kill him."

 

 

 

 

Chapter XXIX

By Halloween, I felt more securely in control of my own life. Craig had long since returned to Urbana, and the little bomb he dropped on my parents, Duane managed to diffuse. He denied ever smoking crack, as I knew he would. Dad wanted proof, and arranged for
Duane to come home for a drug test. Duane complied, and the results of the drug test backed Duane's word. He admitted that yes, he did smoke weed on occasion, and yes, some of the guys he hung around did deal drugs. But that neither made him a drug dealer OR user.

The day he was to go back to Urbana, he and I had a private talk about our situations with Craig. I filled Duane in on Craig's attempt to control me and his standing threat to expose everything. I also told him about overhearing dad threaten to kill.

Duane listened without comment, and seemed to be consumed with staring at the ceiling. I had to wonder had he heard anything I'd told him. But then, as if suddenly awakened from a trance, he rose from his bed and said, "Don't worry about Craig."

"Don't worry? How can I not? If he tells Dad--"

"He won't. He won't be telling Dad nothing about you. He won't be telling nobody nothing."

My brother's voice was so calm, so CERTAIN, it gave me pause, How could he know that Craig wouldn't tell Dad? If Craig could go spread a lie to Dad, he could also go to him with the truth.

"Quit being afraid of him, Tracy. Don't you see? It's what he wants...he gets a nut off your fear," Duane said. "He's always been crazy like that. Even when we were little shorties, Craig had to be the leader, the boss, the one who controlled the game. But now, it's not a game no more and I ain't having it. I'll do whatever I have to do to keep him from fucking up my life. I suggest you do the same, bro."

Easy to say, but not so easy to do. I was just thankful Craig was almost 200 miles away, thankful that I didn't have to deal with him on a daily basis. That left me able to live my life and concentrate on more important things. Like Akil.With him living on the other side of town, Akil and I couldn't interact as much as we would've liked, but when feelings are genuine, the way they are between us, nothing is impossible. We saw each other every
Tuesday and Friday for the GMAD youth group meetings, and after the Friday meeting, we'd gotten in the habit of frequenting the coffeehouse to chill and hear poetry slams. Most people in the youth group knew about us by now, and they all thought we were intimate
because they'd spied Akil and I kissing and touching each other on too many occasions to name. The truth, of course, was that we were virgins, at least to each other.

It was getting harder and harder to pull away, to hold back, to calm things down. It was to the point where Akil could just smile at me and I would have to keep my legs crossed to hide the erection. Kissing him was as transcending an experience as baptism, because Akil
knew how to pour his whole being into his lips and tongue. He could "soul kiss." I could taste love when his tongue crowded into the hollow under my own tongue, I could taste it as a tangible, edible thing, a thing as bittersweet as chocolate, and just as rich. I hungered for him. I could feel his hunger for me, and yet...we continued to starve each other.

In the meantime, Akil invited me over to meet his Aunt Dora, the woman who had raised him. Unlike my parents, his Aunt Dora knew about Akil's sexuality and accordiing to him, was 'okay' with it. I definitely wanted to meet her and see what that kind of acceptance looked like.

Akil's Aunt Dora was a full-figured woman with a heart full of love and laughter, and what made her so beautiful was her willingness to dispense both as freely with family as with strangers. She smothered me in a hug the minute I walked through her front door, and treated me to no less than three of her embraces throughout the evening.

"Baby, you look like a skinny version of that young singer--what's his name? You know. The one in that sexy video with all the water and that pretty actress is always his girlfriend."

"Tyrese?" Akil asked.

"Yeah. That's him. You're friend is the spitting image of Tyrese," Aunt Dora said.

Akil and I both snickered. No one had ever compared me to Tyrese, but then, we were both tall, dark and handsome, depending on who you talked to. As far as I was concerned, that's where the physical similarities ended. It was kind of Aunt Dora to say, and I thanked her.

She was, not suprisingly, a great cook. Although it was just us three dining, Aunt Dora made enough catfish, spaghetti and yeas rolls to feed ten. She expressed an active interest in me by asking about my parents, my family, my hobbies, school interests and goals. I could see behind her questions an attempt to gauge her nephew's potential for happiness with me, so I did my best to convince her that Akil would be safe with me, even though I couldn't guarantee it.

When Akil excused himself to the bathroom, Aunt Dora made herself crystal clear. "Tracy, Akil is my baby. I didn't give birth to him, but I've had him since he was just weeks old, and I'm the only mama he's known," she said. "He's had a lot of loss. His real mama passed giving birth, God rest her soul. Just last year, his daddy lost a long battle with prostate cancer. These losses have made it hard, so hard, for him to open himself up to
anyone. He's always been so afraid he'll lose his loved ones. You must be a special person, Tracy, very special. I can see that my nephew cares for you very much. It's in his eyes.

"I just hope you respect him, respect the gift he's giving you. Because that's truly what his trust, his love is--a gift."

I nodded.

I drove home with a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. I'd never cheated on Akil with Craig; my thing with Craig pre-dated my love for Akil. But why did I feel so hollow, so afraid that I'd hurt him if it wasn't Craig?

I knew immediately the minute I pulled into the carport at home and found Maya sitting on the front steps...

 

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