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CHAPTER ONE

 
Terrell knew his wife didn’t want him around.  It was never spoken, but he saw it in her eyes, for they were full of contempt whenever he stood near her.  It was evident she wanted him away from her and the kids, but she decided when and for how long, so every day after work he came to this park and waited for her to fall asleep.  Once she was asleep he knew he could go home.

He sat on the fender of his car feeling the heat as it escaped into the cold air.  Overhead the clouds moved slowly on furrows of gray.  Soon he would become cold, but he would barely notice it because his thoughts occupied so many places.  Right now his thoughts were on Karen and the kids. But soon they would move on to other things because these days, so many words and outcomes crowded his head.

It had been a little over four weeks since he had told her.  And each day since then, in incremental pushes and shoves, she moved him farther and farther away, allowing him entry only for the sake of the kids because they both understood that what they were going through should not affect the children.

He knew what his fate would be, though after the month or so since their conversation he still struggled with it.  At times this fate held him with a sense of righteousness, while at other times he would find himself gathering at the wounds of dishonor.

But the words had been spoken and with an artisan’s precision, those words had created a monument so demanding that neither he nor Karen could ignore it.

He had told her of his love for men.  He told her how he longed for the company of men, but not just as friends or associates.  He longed for the touch of large, rough hands.  He longed for the rumble of deep voices that moved from their chests.  He told her these things, things he thought he had forgotten long ago.

And this is now what took him to such a place on such a cold and silent evening.

 

~~~~

 

Gay.  Karen was unprepared for his admission.

After all, she had lived a remarkably stable life.  Everything she had been told should be, had been, and out of thanks for such a life she had always given to the less fortunate.  Now she was in need of help.

She still recalled how she had watched him sitting across from her in the kitchen, across from her but near her, close enough to take his deserved blows in case she lashed out or to catch her if she fell forward in disbelief- - she wasn’t sure which.

She remembered how she had jumped up, sending her chair crashing backwards, and covered her face.  Then she began sobbing into her palms wishing they could push away his words and her pain.  She remembered thinking of the kids, how she was thankful he’d taken them to stay with his mother.  How he had stood and came toward her to comfort her and how she had tried to turn away from him. Suddenly, she had felt so ugly there in her robe. But he had turned her around, her hands still covering her face and he had held her to his chest.

Now, there were times at night when she would sit in a room and cry, hoping Kenya and Abassi couldn’t hear her.  Then her pain would turn into hate. But the hate would give way to love and memories and more tears.  She knew she would have a good life after the pain settled, that God wouldn’t give her more than she could bear; but for now, just getting there was difficult.

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

 
Terrell tightened his hold on his son’s hand, causing him to look up at his father.  There was something about the fit of the small hand in Terrell’s palm that gave him security.

Karen walked ahead of them, holding their daughter’s hand.  She walked with her back stiffened, slightly, in a state of preparedness.  They knew everyone would be watching them when they walked through the doors of the church.  Karen had promised Bishop Lawrence they would attend and now everyone in the congregation clung to their assumptions as if it were their own lives that had been thrown into turmoil.

Terrell and Karen hadn’t been to church since they had the conversation, but word of Terrell’s decision to come out of the closet had spread like wildfire.  Their phone had been ringing off the hook from church members, some wanting to know how well Karen was holding up and others simply wanting gossip.

It was rumored that Terrell’s decision to come out was in some way connected to the former pastor’s resignation.

Bishop Abrams had stepped down from his position, taking a sudden retirement, and he and Mother Abrams had left for a much needed vacation.  Some of the church members found it strange that the former Bishop had given up his fight to remain in the pulpit.  They even wondered about the coincidence between the two events – his going and Terrell’s coming out –  but they couldn’t draw any obvious conclusion so they just let it be.  They were simply glad Bishop Abrams had left without causing too much of a ruckus.

Terrell followed his wife up the aisle, past the stares and the pitiful shaking of heads, to a spot near the front of the sanctuary that, oddly enough, was vacant and large enough to seat two adults and two children.  Abassi looked at his father and smiled, but Kenya sat stiff, as did her mother, and looked askance at the gawkers.

After his opening remarks, Bishop Lawrence welcomed Terrell and his family back to church.  His eyes cast a telling stare on Terrell as he spoke, causing the congregants to crane their necks to see the reaction, but there was none.

The sermon seemed to go on forever.  It was longer than any other sermon Terrell remembered by Bishop Abrams.  At the end of the sermon, Terrell walked out the church into a bright cold afternoon.  He stood and held the hands of his kids while he watched the women of the church gather around Karen like giant petals, as if to protect her from his evil ways.

Kenya stood silently by and watched the gathering of the women.  Terrell could tell by her eyes she understood that tragedy had come upon her mother.  Yet, he could see in those same eyes that she couldn’t conceive its name.  A fear gathered in her eyes, rising each day she witnessed this unspeakable thing, and it concerned Terrell.

He shook Kenya’s hand to pull her attention from the scene.  “I wonder what kind of dessert they’re gonna have today?  Lemon meringue pie?”

Kenya flashed a quick smile.  “I don’t know.”

“I hope so!” Abassi declared as he twisted his small body.

At that moment one of the deacons left a group of male congregants and walked over to Terrell.

“Hi Brother Mitchell. Glad you could make it back to service,” the deacon said.  His face held a smile that offered little more than the look of distaste that splintered across his eyes.  He extended his hand.

“Thanks,” Terrell answered as he shook the deacon’s hand.

“Hi Deacon Patterson,” Abassi said, with a beaming smile.

“Hi there Abassi. How you doin’?”

“Fine.”

Deacon Patterson looked over at the silent Kenya and measured her distance. Her mood brought him back to the matter at hand.  “We sent you several letters asking you to come to the deacon’s board meeting, but you…”

“I didn’t respond. Yes, I know,” Terrell acknowledged.

“Then you know we need to see you, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Kenya looked up at her father, the fear growing even more in her eyes.

“Wednesday night. I’ll be there.”

The elder gentleman looked down at Kenya, then back to Terrell.  “It’s good to see you back. All of you,” he said as he tweaked Kenya’s ear.

 

That evening Terrell went over to his mother’s house.  He had Kenya and Abassi with him.  He took a plate of food he had prepared as a peace offering.

“Hi Mom,” he said as his mother answered the door.

Abassi and Kenya called out their greeting as she reached down to hug them.

“Well, look at my little ones,” she said.  “Now come on in. It’s cold out there.”

The youngsters rushed past her and began shedding their coats, which they immediately hung in the closet. Then they went off to play with some of the toys she kept at the house for them.

“I didn’t see you at church today,” Terrell said as he closed the door and handed the plate to his mother.

“No.” She walked to the kitchen and set the plate on the table.  “I just didn’t wanna be around all that mess.  All that gossiping when you all walked in.”

“It wasn’t so bad.”

She headed back into the living room where she had been watching TV  “That’s good.  I just know how some of them can be.  All that wouldn’t be going on if the bishop was still there.

She spoke as she sat back down in her chair.  She always referred to Bishop Abrams as ‘The Bishop.’  He was the first bishop she had served under and as far as she was concerned he would be the only one who should preside over Savior’s Temple until either he passed away or the Apocalypse arrived.

Terrell knew this.  But as he listened to her speak he also knew she held him responsible for Bishop Abrams’ departure and for the rash of changes that had occurred in her beloved church.  She hadn’t spoken about it, but he saw it in the way she averted her eyes from him when she spoke of the changes.  Even though he had told her the truth about the former bishop and his wife, it didn’t matter to her.  Terrell was the one at fault.

He and his mother had tread lightly on the subject of his decision to be open about his sexuality.  She referred to it as his ‘choice,’ but they had never really discussed it.

Thus, Terrell had decided not to push the matter because he wasn’t ready for any other arguments.  Karen and his sister had given him enough.  So now he sat and watched his mother avoid his eyes as she searched for a way to change the subject.

 “Temperature’s dropping,” she said.

“Yes ma’am.  Have you had the furnace checked yet?”

“No.  I still have to do that.”

“Mom, it’s already winter.  One day that thing is going to go out and the temperature will be somewhere below zero.”

“I know,” she said.

“You want me to get someone over here?”

“Yes.”  She looked at him and smiled.  “Yes.”

 

 

CHAPTER THREE

 
The story had been told the night Terrell felt himself falling for Karen.  Terrell had told Karen of the affair he once had.  He had called it an affair because to call it love would have been too much for the two of them to bear.

He had told her before they married, one night after making love.  He had told her because the young man had entered his head and had asked for more while he made love to her.  He told her because he wanted the young man dead.

Afterwards, he laid in the dark, his head against her breasts, he had told her the story.  He and the young man were in their teens when the affair happened.  Although it lasted a year, Terrell was convinced it had been nothing more than the indiscretion of youth.  He considered the days, the weeks, the seasons with his lover insignificant; neither here nor there as far as he was concerned.

After confessing his story, Terrell had wrapped his arms around Karen’s waist and disappeared into the silence and the darkness of the bedroom.

After a moment, she reached down and stroked his head.  She had forgiven him, even though she had not been a part of his life back then.  She had forgiven him of his transgression, and he had declared it would never happen again.  She had stroked his head and she had forgiven him.

But the passage of time had no consideration of forgiveness.  If they had known then the consequences of their actions, she would have refused him marriage when he told her, and he would have named that year-long affair love.

Now, those very thoughts came to Karen’s mind as she talked to her sister Tess on the phone.

Her sister made statements that stirred up Karen’s anger, statements that fused words like ‘disease’ and ‘down-low’ into a solid form to be despised.

But Karen knew her sister was wrong.  She believed Terrell when he told her he hadn’t been leading a double life until recently, the night he spent with a man he met while she was away on vacation with the kids, and since then he hadn’t made love to her.  But the confidence she once had in him had been destroyed.  Still, it was difficult for her to listen to the bile her sister spewed.

Tess had always found power in her own beauty, while Karen had always found joy in the beauty of others.  Although it was their beauty that joined them, it was the consideration of it that separated them.

Where Tess sought control, Karen had always sought love and balance.

But now, in her mind, both of those principles had been thrown to the wind, and it was with this thought that Karen listened to Tess.

Holding the phone to her ear, she looked out the window of her office at the hardness of winter. Feeling confused, she wondered about the chances of her family surviving.  Yes, she was angry at Terrell for bringing all this into her life and for the pain she knew would eventually gnaw at their children; and she wanted to see him suffer.  Yet she still loved him because he had always been a good man and he had always been a good provider.

Now she only wished there was someone, some loving God who would come down and make things right.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Terrell watched the patrons in the restaurant.  They were so different from him.  Mostly, they dressed in black and green and their bodies looked slight and pale.  Even the few black faces there had an untouched quality about them.  They would sit quietly reading, or would talk in low soft tones to each other, their faces smiling through warm candlelight at the tables or against the soft pewter of an afternoon.  It was a peaceful place, and it was where he now went most days for lunch.

These days he was feeling uprooted.  Though he was still with his wife and kids, the large home in Mason seemed more and more to turn away from him, its ends turning inward and upward, like the changes in fallen leaves, until it no longer fit him.  But he wasn’t ready to leave his family.  He loved them and prayed for a way to keep them.

The waitress smiled and waved at him as he entered the door.

“How are you today?” she greeted.

“Fine.  How about you?”

“Great.”

She walked alongside him to the table at which he usually sat.

“You hungry?”

 “Starved,” Terrell replied.

“Well let’s get you something, then.”  She smiled as she put her pencil to her pad.

Terrell scanned the menu before deciding on his order.  It was an eggplant sandwich.

“Wanna try sliced avocado on it this time?”

She had been guiding him outside his box over the past few weeks.  He knew this and appreciated it.  “Yeah.  Let me try that.”

Terrell ate his lunch and took in the serenity of the coffee house, watching the patrons who were becoming less and less unfamiliar.  His phone rang.  He looked at the number.  It looked familiar, but he couldn’t place it.  “Hello?”

“So is this where you go these days?  A restaurant full of freaky white kids.”

He immediately recognized Stanton’s voice.  His first inclination was to disconnect, but etiquette held him.  “How’s it going?  Where are you?” he said, looking around the eatery.

“Outside.”

Turning toward the window he saw the burly man standing and grinning out front.  He waved and Stanton waved a gloved hand at him.  “I’ll be in,” Stanton said.

Stanton came into the coffee shop and the waitress walked him over to Terrell’s table.  Terrell stood and shook his hand.

“Would you like to look at the menu?” the waitress asked Stanton.

“No thank you.  I’ll be leaving in a minute.”

She smiled and turned away.

“Not my kinda place,” Stanton said to Terrell.

“So how’s it goin?”  Stanton spoke with a slight grin that could easily have been interpreted as a smirk.  “Looks like you lost a little weight there.”

“Been going through a lot.”

“No kidding,” Stanton chuckled as he looked across the table.  “You and your boy…what’s his name?”

“Otis.”

“Yeah.  You just breeze into town, turn everything upside down and leave.”  Stanton laughed as he slapped the top of the table.

Terrell could see that instead of being bothered Stanton seemed to have found some pleasure in what had happened.

“So how’s he doing?”

“Fine, I guess.”

“What about his son?  They still in town?” Stanton asked.

“No.  Back in New York.”

Stanton sat back in his chair.  “So he took that crazy little nigger with him, huh?  Well, I’m gonna miss him.  But he was this close to gettin’ snuffed,” he said, holding his finger and thumb less than an inch apart.

“Can we change the subject?”

“And talk about what?  This is all we have in common.”

Terrell sat in silence, not even looking at him, and continued eating.

“You know it surprises me that you haven’t gone around telling everybody about all of us,” Stanton went on.  “The way you tore outta there that night.  Jerry thinks you’ll tell in time.  He thinks we should all just lay low for a while.  But me?  I don’t.  I’m thinking if you go talking then hey, maybe it’s time we all come clean.”

“I really don’t care, Stanton.  You can all go on with your little game.  I just don’t want any part of it.”

Stanton laughed.  “Listen to you.  Just give it time.  You’ll be kicking down the door like everybody else.”  He smiled and placed one of his fat hands atop Terrell’s.  “But look.  I want us to keep in touch, okay?  I mean I trust you, and as far as I’m concerned it’s all water under the bridge, right?”  He searched Terrell’s face.  “Yeah,” he nodded before standing.  “And man, don’t be so distant toward me.  I can help you.”  Stanton patted Terrell’s shoulder and left the coffee shop.

 

 

CHAPTER FOUR

 
“I wish you wouldn’t go to that meeting,” Karen said.  “You know what they’re going to do.”  She and Terrell were clearing off the dinner table.  He had come in early so he could make it to the Deacon’s Board meeting.

“Yeah, I know.”

She looked at him.  “Then why are you going?  Just let them do what they’re going to do anyway.”

“I want to look them in the face like a man.”

“Terrell, it’s not about being a man.  It’s about- - never mind.”  She shook her head and went back to the dishes.

The two of them worked for a minute or so in silence before she spoke again.  “I don’t think we should sleep in the same bed anymore.”  She spoke without looking at him.

Her words were abrupt, yet Terrell understood them.  In fact, he had halfway expected them, so he paused to gauge her words, then in a gesture of resignation, he answered.  “Yeah.  Okay.”  From the family room he could hear Abassi and Kenya laughing over some event.  “What are we going to tell them?”

“Tell them your back is hurting these days and that you have to sleep on a different mattress.”

 

The floors of the board room creaked underneath the aging maroon carpet as Terrell entered.  Looking around the room he saw the cadre of deacons, most of them older than he, and many of whom had known his father even before Terrell was born.  They were moving about the room like kids with crooked little backs, moving with small shuffles as they made their way to their seats.  He wondered how many of them really understood what was happening, and how many were there simply because it was the night they usually attended the board meeting.

But there were eyes in the room that were aware, and they measured him as he stood now with his hand on the back of a chair, wondering if he should sit or stand nobly and take his punishment.

A few of the elder deacons smiled and grasped his hand with strength that betrayed their age and shook it with fervor and honor that he had returned.

From a far corner of the large table, Deacon Patterson watched the succession before calling the meeting to order.  The old men shuffled to their seats.

After an opening prayer, to which Deacon Patterson added a plea that the Lord grant them wisdom for the evening, the meeting began.

It was obvious to Terrell that this meeting would be unlike the other meetings, but he hadn’t expected the drastic change in tone.

Deacon Patterson requested that each member of the board reflect on their history with Terrell, and one by one around the table the members told of their knowledge of him: how they had visited his mother and father at the hospital the day of his birth; the joy his parents felt the day he was christened.  They spoke of his beautiful singing voice and of course, his being the youngest member to ever join the deacon’s board.  But no one spoke about Terrell’s relationship with Otis.

After the testimonials were done, Deacon Patterson spoke.  “We do have a lot of history with the Mitchell family, as well as Deacon Mitchell, himself,” he said, passing a vacant smile Terrell’s way.  He was about to continue when the door opened.  Bishop Lawrence entered, waved for the deacons to go on with the meeting, then quietly moved to an empty chair against a far wall.

Deacon Patterson went on, presenting the matter at hand.  He spoke of Terrell’s truancy as a deacon of Savior’s Temple and the importance of adhering to responsibilities.  Then he paused and lowered his eyes to the papers in front of him before lifting them, full of sorrow, and announced Terrell’s decision to accept his homosexuality, calling it ‘a vain digression from God’s loving laws.’

At once, Terrell felt the room stiffen.  The floor, the windows and the walls that held them all stiffened at Deacon Patterson’s words.  He looked hurriedly about the table in search of the group’s reaction.  Some of the men bemoaned him, shaking their heads.  Others declared the pain they felt for his parents – especially his deceased father – and for his wife and kids.  But for the most part the circle of elders stared with slight confusion in search of a response to something they hadn’t, in all their lives, been prepared to confront.  From the far corner of the room he saw Bishop Lawrence sitting, his arms crossed, his face bearing a concerned look.

After the board settled down, Deacon Patterson suggested the members vote to remove Terrell from its body; and slowly, one by one, hands moved up, signaling their agreement.  Only a few hands remained on the table in what seemed more like indecisiveness instead of opposition.

Finally, the votes had been cast.  Terrell had been asked to step down from the board.

Deacon Patterson looked at him.  “Are there any words you’d like to say, Brother Mitchell?”

Terrell sat for a moment and looked around the room.  His face had settled into a sense of calm.  He glanced down at his hands which were folded in front of him on the table.  He wasn’t sure if they displayed a sense of peace or if they were holding onto something that was eager to take flight.  Looking back up, he smiled.  “I came here tonight because I wanted to see your faces as you made your decision.  You’ve made that decision, and now, it’s time for me to say goodbye.” 

And with that, he stood and walked to the door through the stunned silence and wavering thoughts, and left.  Along the table, some of the deacons lowered their heads.

Outside in the parking lot, Terrell sat in his car.  He stared at the windshield and watched tiny puffs of frost rise from his mouth.  He searched the emptiness in his head and attempted to formulate a thought, if only one minute thought that might lead to coherence.  The walking away from things without a place to go was beginning to frighten him.

Suddenly, the frigid air pulled him around.  He turned on the car, turned up the heat and slowly drove into the night.  But instead of heading back home, he drove further into the city.

 

Passing Queen Anne’s bar he continued to drive, tracing the route he took the night he met the man.  The streets weren’t as full as they had been that night.  There were no late night barbecues smoking against buildings or people sitting on their stoops watching children run up and down the sidewalks.  On this night a few young men layered in hooded sweats, leather-like jackets, jeans and Timbs moved under the vacant lights of the street lamps.

Crossing the Roebling Suspension Bridge, he drove into Covington, turning down bejeweled avenues of carriage styled street lamps and past nineteenth century brick homes until he came to the man’s apartment.

The man’s window appeared dark.  Terrell figured he hadn’t come in from work yet.  Then he saw the rise of soft light around the edges of the curtains as if the TV was on.

He sat for a moment and watched the window.  He knew what was behind them: the magnificence of warm brown skin, hard bone, and muscle.  The voice that pulled its listener into its depth, low and almost bottomless.  He knew what was behind the windows: the strong arms that moved him to the nap-covered chest then down onto the bed beneath the heaviness.  He knew this and part of him jumped and filled at knowing.  But he had no resolve to get out of the car and ring the doorbell.  Since last summer he had had constant yearnings to see the man again, but he never gave in.  After a while of sitting in front of the building, he drove away.

When he arrived home he entered the house through the kitchen.  The warm air inside was at once inviting and playful with deceit.  Except for the kitchen, the other rooms were dimly lit, a lamp left on here and there.

He moved through the rooms, turning off the lights and started up the stairs.  Midway up, he paused.  He remembered Karen’s request.  In all their years together, they had never slept apart.  Slowly he continued up the stairs.  He walked past their bedroom and listened for a sound from her…a soft breathing, or a gentle stirring under the sheets, but there was none.

He was about to open the door to the guest room when he saw Kenya standing in the doorway of her bedroom.  The door was slightly ajar and she stood peering through the narrow opening at him.

“Baby.  What are you doing up?”  He walked over to where she stood, half hidden, and gently moved the door aside.

Kenya stepped back a little.  “I was waiting for you.”

He took a breath and exhaled, knowing what was happening.  “I just went to a meeting at the church like I always do.”

She stood and looked at him without saying a word, but her silence was full of consideration.

“Well.  Looks like you aren’t ready to go to sleep yet,” he said as he leaned over and lifted her into his arms.

The two of them went back down to the kitchen where he fixed two glasses of milk and a small plate of cookies.  “Now if I give you a few cookies, only a few, will you promise me you’ll get some sleep?”

She nodded.  “Only two,” she said, holding up her fingers.  “Mommy said the sugar keeps me awake.”

They went into the family room where he settled her in his lap and turned on the TV.  Together they watched a comedy.

Between moments in the show, Kenya looked up at him.  “Daddy, are you feeling okay?”

“Mm hm.  Why?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, hunching her shoulders.  “Mommy’s not.  I hear her crying a lot.”

Terrell felt his heart drop.  “Oh.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“She…she’s just going through something that some women go through.”

 “Does it hurt?”

“No.  It just makes her feel sad sometimes.  It’ll go away soon.”

“Oh.  Am I gonna do that when I get older?”

He pulled her closer, “Nah.  You won’t.  I’ll make sure you won’t.”

Later, he made his way back upstairs carrying his sleeping daughter in his arms.  He put her to bed, kissing her cheek.  A knot rose in his throat as he watched her.  Kissing her once more, he stood and closed the door to her room.

Walking into the guest room, he saw where Karen had made the bed for him using his pillow, and had laid out his robe and house shoes alongside his shaving kit.  Quietly, he undressed and climbed into the empty bed.

 

The next morning Terrell lay for a while in bed.  He was awake when his wife got the kids up for school.  He heard Abassi running down the hall toward his and Karen’s bedroom.  “Where’s Daddy?”

“His back is hurting.  He slept in the other room,” he heard Kenya tell him before halting him from his usual morning assault on his father, “No!” she warned in a loud whisper.  “He needs to sleep!  Now come on!”

“Go on downstairs you two, so you can finish getting ready.”  Karen was behind them.

That is what he heard the next morning.  Sounds that were familiar to him.  Sounds full of the love that made the home in which they lived.  Sounds that caused him to tighten his chest and pull the pillow over his face to silence the moan that rose from his throat.

Later, he managed to pull himself from bed and go into the master bathroom where he showered and prepared himself for the day.  He timed everything so he and Karen wouldn’t be in the room at the same time.

But as he came from the bathroom he saw Karen sitting on the side of the bed.

“What now?” she asked.

 He stood there naked and slowly shook his head.

“Terrell, don’t just stand there shaking your head.  Tell me.  What are we supposed to do now?”  She was looking up at him, her palms raised.  “Things are beginning to happen, just roll on like…like crazy and you just stand there shaking your head?”

“Baby…I don’t know.”  He continued, his voice pleading for her understanding.  “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do know Terrell.  You know what to do.  You caused it, didn’t you?”

His mind raced for an answer, the right one, but he knew it wasn’t what she needed.  So he stood there feeling his nakedness.  He no longer belonged to her.  He knew this, and it made him want to put on his robe or his shorts but he couldn’t because the sting of her words numbed him.

Karen continued. “You are dismantling this house, this…home, this family with your goddamned selfishness.  Terrell, you don’t even know who you are anymore.  And you just go on through the day like, ‘Hey. I’m okay.’  Well you’re not!”

She sat for a minute and looked past him.  Her eyes were so weary.  Finally, slapping her thighs in resignation, she stood up.  “And as for that ‘I don’t know’ mess, well let me tell you, you better know because you need to know what to tell those kids downstairs who love you.”  She turned and walked toward the bedroom door.

Suddenly, in one furious moment, she picked up a book from her night stand and flung it at him.  “I hate you!”

 

~~~~

 

Later that day, Karen ate lunch in her office mulling over the events of the past, and there was one thing she realized; she never really knew Terrell, although she might have if only she had listened to him when he told her about his love for the boy so many years ago.

It had never occurred to her to know the boy’s name.  The years since Terrell mentioned him he had been faceless and unimportant, relegated to that place of misgiving.

Only after returning from Atlanta had she learned his name.  Otis.  No longer a boy.

Now she wished she would have given Otis more attention.    Maybe knowing him and of the love her husband had for him when they were teenagers would have prepared her for what was happening.  It had never occurred to her to know his name, but she would learn of him now.

 

“Otis.”  I never thought I would have to hear that name again.”  Charmaine pulled at the belt of her coat, tightening it against the cold.  It was a bright sunny day as the two of them, Karen and Charmaine, crossed the street and went into a store.  “Although I’m not surprised,” she continued.

“Why?” Karen asked.

“Because they were close.  They were too close to just have their friendship ripped apart like that.  Especially the way it had been.”

Karen looked at her sister-in-law and shook her head in bewilderment.

Charmaine ordered a pack of cigarettes.  “Can’t get these at work anymore,” she said as she held the pack up.  “I gotta quit.”

“You really should.”

They walked back across the street.  Karen had taken some time away from work to meet with Charmaine, and now she needed to know the truth.

“They really were close, Karen.  And my father couldn’t stand it.  I had problems with it too.  That was twenty years ago, you know.  But even then, I didn’t have as much of a problem with it as Daddy did.  I just saw him as my little brother.  But Daddy…”  She shook her head.  “When Daddy found out the truth about them, he went off.”

“What about Mom?” Karen asked.

“Oh you know how she is.  Gentle heart.  But what you don’t know is how she was under Daddy.  He roared and she cowered.”  Charmaine started to pull at the seal on the pack, then stopped and thrust the cigarettes into her pocket.  “Mom didn’t know what to think.  Back then she was too afraid to think.”

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t know…”

Charmaine smiled and nudged her.  “Everybody didn’t come from a well-adjusted family.”

They ended back to the front of the hospital where Charmaine worked.

“Look.  Why don’t me, you and Mom meet for dinner this evening?  Can Terrell watch the kids?”

Karen thought for a quick second.  “Yes.  Yes he can.  In fact, he needs to.”

“Good.  I’ll let her know.  Now let me get back in here.”  She hugged Karen.  “I’ll see you around six.”

 

Charmaine set a glass of tea on the tray beside her mother’s chair and sat on the couch beside Karen.  During dinner they had talked about everything but what they had come together for.  Karen had wanted to jump right into the story of Terrell and Otis, but Terrell’s mother began talking about something she and her girlfriend had encountered while out shopping.  Karen had clawed her palms as she listened, but she knew it would all come in due time.  Now the time had arrived.

“I wish things were better between you and Terrell,” her mother-in-law prefaced.  “I guess I just knew he had given up on being the way he is.”

“It’s not always so easy, Mom,” Charmaine said.

“If he would just work at it,” their mother continued, “I know he can change.”

“I don’t know.  I don’t know anything anymore,” Karen said.  “I guess that’s why I’m here, to find out… something… anything.”

Terrell’s mother looked down a bit and spoke.  “Neither one of them were bad boys,” she said of Terrell and Otis.  “Neither one ever got into any trouble… well… until then.  It’s just that they had… that thing going on between them that made them bad.  Well to everyone else, because in spite of it all even that thing didn’t make them all that bad.  But people just resented them.  Terrell should’ve told you about it.”  Then she sighed.  “But I guess a man’s pride wouldn’t allow that, would it?”

“Actually, he did tell me.  Well, he mentioned it.  How he thought he might be gay.”

“Then why didn’t you listen?” Charmaine asked.

“I did.  Look that was so many years ago.  Nobody talked about subjects like that.”  She paused, then continued.  “We were young.  We didn’t know much about that.  And anyway, he mentioned it in such a passing way, I didn’t think it was anything to worry about.  I thought it was just things young men try.”

Charmaine sat back and crossed her legs.  “I wish I had been there when he ‘mentioned’ it to you.  I would’ve told you how serious it was.  I knew the night I saw them.”

The other two women looked at Charmaine.

“One night Otis came by.  I can remember because it was raining hard.  I had gone upstairs, but I could still hear Terrell talking to him on the phone.”

“Where was me and your father?” her mother asked.

“You had gone to bed.  But anyway, I heard them making plans to meet outside.  And then in a few minutes I heard Otis’ car drive up.  You know he always had that loud car he used to race around in.  And I heard Terrell go out the door.  I went to my bedroom window, and I saw them.  At first they were standing together under a large umbrella, talking.  I didn’t think nothing of it.  I was just being nosey.  But then, then Otis…” she put her hand on Karen’s arm.  “I’m sorry Karen, but then Otis took Terrell in his arms and they just started kissing.”

Both Karen and Terrell’s mother caught their breaths.

“I’m sorry,” Charmaine repeated.  “I was just as shocked when I saw it.  I didn’t know what to do.  All I could think was my brother was a sissy.”  She looked a bit away, then back to Karen, her eyes softening, “But he was still my brother.  That was all I could see.”

Their mother adjusted her duster.  “I wish you had told me.”

“Why?  So you could go and tell Daddy?  Mom, you ran everything past Daddy, and I knew what he would do if he found out.”

“But he did,” her mother reminded.

“I know.  I guess I just…  I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head, “I don’t know what I thought.  I just wanted him and Otis to get away with it so they wouldn’t get hurt.  It was all I could hope for at the time.”

“Everybody started hating them.”  Their mother took up the story.  “It was horrible.  Especially for that Otis.  You know he was a big time football player.  They started hating him so much he left the team.”

“And what about Terrell?  How did he fare?” Karen asked.

“It was bad for him too.  He never had much social standing like Otis did, but it was still bad.  Maybe even worse because Otis had a family who stood by him, but here…”

The room fell silent as the old woman pressed at her remorse.  “His father went at him like he was the last demon on earth,” she said, shaking her head.  “It was bad.” Her eyes misted.  She turned and looked at the aging photo of her husband staring lock eyed from the frame, “He didn’t have to hurt those boys like that.”

 

It was well into night when Karen left.  And with her she took knowledge that, until this evening, had not been known:  the depth of the love Otis and Terrell had for each other, the furor their love caused, the intervention of the church, the deception and horrible act that destroyed the relationship.  They were the underpinnings that held together the makings of her husband, the man she now realized she never knew.

 

~~~~

 

Terrell watched Abassi and Kenya as they moved with him along the ice.  The cold air moved past their faces as they circled the rink, their even glides breaking with sharp scraping sounds as they navigated the turns.

He watched their laughing faces.  It was good to see the brightness there.

The buildings of downtown Cincinnati surrounded them like canyons underneath a star ladened sky, keeping them safe from the rising confusion they had come to know.  He wanted this moment to last forever.

“Look Daddy.  It’s us!”  Kenya pointed to the jumbo screen on the side of one of the buildings that showed the skaters.

“Ooo.  Sure is!”  Abassi was so excited that he jumped and lost his balance almost causing the three of them to go down.

“Watch it, now.  You’re not good enough to jump and skate,” Terrell warned.

“One day I will be, Daddy,” Abassi assured.

“Yep.  One day.”

Fountain Square had changed since the days when he and Otis would come down.  Back then they would sit along the walls and watch the sprays of water dance up and outward from the fountain on hot summer days, watch passersby and relax in the love they had for each other.  Back then, he would sit close to Otis and slide his hand under Otis’ muscular thigh, and they would sit wishing the days would never end.

But the days did end, and the pain of that breach slumbered deep within Terrell for many years.  Every once in a while it would yawn and stretch and move and Terrell would feel its presence once more.  The pain slept, but it never left.

On their way home Terrell stopped off and got ice cream sundaes for them.  Kenya had suddenly taken a craving for ice cream.  “Aren’t you cold enough?” he had asked them.  They had shaken their heads ‘no’, so he gave in.

“Now you know Mommy doesn’t want you two eating like this so late.”

“I know,” Kenya said as she took the bowl from the server.  Then they headed back to Mason.

 

“Mommy, we went ice skating,” Abassi announced as they came through the door.

“Ice skating?”  Karen was sitting at the dining room table working on her laptop.  She pressed the images from the papers in front of her into her mind to fill the despair she’d gotten from her visit with her in-laws. “Did you have fun?”  She smiled, but her eyes were on the ice cream they had in their hands.

“Yeah,” the kids chimed.

“They have this big TV and we saw ourselves skating.”  Kenya spoke as she lifted a cold lump of cream to her mouth.

“TV?  When did the skating rink get that?”

“I took them down to Fountain Square,” Terrell said.

Karen hesitated.  Her eyes looked at her husband in mild surprise before changing to a dull red.  “Oh.  Why did you take them down there?  It’s so far.  You could’ve taken them to the one out here.”

“I just wanted them to get away for a bit.”

“Get away,” she repeated.

“We had fun, Mommy.”  Kenya looked at her mother with eyes that pleaded for sanity.

Abassi joined in, unaware of the tension, “Sure did,” he mused.

Upon realizing her daughter’s anxiety Karen smiled.  “Well that’s good.  I bet it was pretty, with all the lights and the tall buildings and things.”

“And horses,” Abassi added.  “They even had horses for people to ride on.”

“They didn’t ride the horses,” Kenya corrected.  “They rode in the carriages.”

“Well…”  Abassi stood corrected.

“Go ahead and finish your ice cream so you can get ready for bed,” Terrell said.  He followed them into the kitchen leaving Karen behind.

Later that night Karen came into Terrell’s bedroom.

“Why did you take the kids way downtown?”  She stood with her back against the closed door.

Terrell was lying on his back watching her.  “What do you mean?  I didn’t know there were parameters they couldn’t cross.”

“You never took them that far away before.  You always stay around here.”

Terrell raised his hands, “And?”

“Then ice cream before bed.  You know we don’t usually allow that.”

“Aw c’mon Karen, chill out.  They needed a night like this.”

Karen put her hand on the doorknob.  “You’ll do anything to throw this family to the wolves, won’t you?  You know what?  I’m glad you’re sleeping in here.”  She opened the door.

“Yeah, so am I,” Terrell replied.

“I bet you are.”  She left and went into her room, the room that used to be theirs.

 

 

CHAPTER FIVE

 
The meeting had ended and now Terrell sat in the noonday sun that spread through his office window high above downtown.

He had decided to remain in his office for his lunch break.  He needed the silence to sort through the rapid descent his life seemed to have taken.

Earlier, one of his co-workers had stuck his head in the office to check on him before he headed out and Terrell had assured him he didn’t want to join the others, that he was fine just being by himself.

Harlan had stood for a second and studied his face before leaving.  “Let me know if you want me to bring you something back,” he’d said before closing the door.

So now Terrell sat and gazed out the window.

The sun moved slowly across the sky as spring pushed away winter.  Atop a nearby building, a flag flapped and pulled against a strong March wind, winter’s last rush of defense.

He watched the flag every day.  At times he wondered how much it could endure the constant assault from the wind.  How long before it was torn loose and sent sailing over the horizon.  And where would it come down?  Would it float safely to some child in a distant land to be cherished and folded away for safe keeping?  Or would it become entangled in a bush whose thorns would tear at it for the rest of its life?  These things he wondered every day as he watched the insistent piece of cloth.

 

No, he didn’t have an answer for Karen that night in the bedroom.  He didn’t know what to do to save his family and his home.  He only knew he wouldn’t let his family fall apart.  That much he knew.

And he did have an answer to the question of knowing who he was.  He knew that all along.  He knew the day they came for him twenty years ago.  He knew when he denied Otis and led him to his ruin.  He knew when he said he didn’t know and allowed them to rebuild him, constructing him piece by piece with thoughts and feelings that were unnatural to him.  And somewhere, deep inside, he knew the answer to the question of who he was when he fell in love with Karen; he even knew when he told her he had been saved.  He knew the answer but had denied it.

It was Otis’ visit a few months ago that reminded him of that truth.  So much had changed over the decades since he’d last seen Otis.  The ones who had come for them so many years ago were gone. And to see the boy he once loved, now a man, had sent him rushing upwards like an ascent from the ocean until he found himself breaking through the waters gasping for air.   And the air there at the top was clear.

 

It was a little past five when someone knocked at his office door.  He was deep in his work and hadn’t noticed the time.  He called his visitor in and Harlan entered.

“What’s up?” Terrell asked after a quick look up from his monitor.

“You working late again?” Harlan asked as he stood in the doorway.

“Huh?  Oh.  Yeah.  I want to punch up this report before I hand it over to Mike.”

“You got time for that, man.”  Harlan continued to stand in the doorway.

“I know.  I just want to work on it.”

Harlan came further into the office and closed the door behind him.  “Terrell, man, you okay?”

“Yeah,” Terrell said. “Yeah.  Why?”

“The last month or so you seem like you got a lot on your mind.”  Harlan put his hands in his pants pockets.  “I mean, I’m not trying to be a bother or nothing, but it’s just, you know, I don’t like seeing my dawg like that, you know?”  He shifted his short muscular frame with anticipation, his dark shaved head catching the light from above.

Terrell looked at him and smiled.  “I’m okay.  Really.”

“Let’s get a bite to eat,” Harlan persisted.

“Later.  Maybe tomorrow.  I really want to get this report going.”

“Okay.  Well, let me know if you need me.”

“I will.”

After Harlan left, Terrell caught his breath.  In the few years since Harlan came on board, Terrell had never felt the presence from him that he had just a few minutes ago.  When he took the younger man under his wing to mentor him he had noticed how brilliantly handsome he was, but he had never had an urge to reach out and touch him like he had just then.  The intensity of his eyes on Terrell and the thick neck and broad shoulders, the way his pants stretched across his crotch and thighs as he pressed his hands in his pockets had caused Terrell to become flush.   Shaking his head to rid the thoughts, he went back to work.

 

~~~~

 

The rickety chair wobbled as he sat down at the table and set his beer in front of him.  Getting up, he removed the chair and replaced it with another one from an adjacent table, but it wobbled as well.

It had been a few months since Terrell had been to The Phoenix.  He had discovered it while Karen was away, while Otis was in town.  The bar had served as his second place of coming out, but he had no intention of ever returning.  In his mind, it had merely been a stop along the way of his rediscovering himself, nothing more.  But now he was there again because he needed to talk.

Before he left work he had called Arthur to meet him there.  They had met at a party a few months before.  It was also during Karen’s trip.  In Arthur he had found an understanding ear. 

Terrell sat a while and watched people come and go from the bar.  The jukebox blared R&B and the patrons chattered above the music.

He hadn’t kept in touch with Arthur, so he wondered if he would show.

He did.  After a while Arthur came through the door.  He spotted Terrell and waved as he stopped to exchange greetings with a few people at the end of the bar near the entrance.

Terrell stood as Arthur approached the table, “What’s up?” he said as he and Arthur clasped hands.

He ordered two more drinks and sat back at the table.  “Good to see you again.”

“Same here,” Arthur replied.  “So how’s everything going with you?  How’s it going with your situation?  I’m assuming that’s why you called me after all this time.”

 “Yeah, sorry about that.  I had so much going on,” Terrell said.  Then he continued, “I told her.”  Terrell spoke as he rubbed a finger around the rim of his glass.

“So you really did it.”  Arthur whistled through his teeth.  “I mean, I know you said you were going to do it, but I didn’t think you really would.”

“Why not?”

“Most people don’t.”

Terrell shook his head.  “I couldn’t do that.  Lie to her like that.”  He looked at Arthur, “She already thinks I lied to her when we married.”

Arthur peered at Terrell, a slight smile trimming his lips, “Well, you did, didn’t you?”

“No.”

Arthur stared at him.

“I didn’t lie to her,” Terrell said defensively.  “I really thought I was over that.”

“C’mon man.  That guy you were in love with when you were young…”

“When I was young,” Terrell said.  “That’s what I thought it was, something I did because I was young.”  His eyes were on Arthur, but in truth, they only saw the frailty of his words.

Arthur gave a smirk before sipping his beer.

Shaking his head, Terrell conceded.  “But looking back, I…I guess I should’ve known.  Hell, I’ve always been attracted to men.”  He spoke, nervously cutting his eyes to the side, then back down to his drink.  “In school, on TV, on the street.  It’s always been that way.”

Arthur nodded with recognition.

 “But I put it all… back somewhere,” he said as he waved his hand.

“How?” Arthur asked.  “I mean, if you’re gay, then you know you’re gay.  No matter what you might tell yourself, you always know who you are.”

Terrell hunched his shoulders.  “I guess it’s the dealing with it.  It’s like when you have to deal with it, and you don’t want to, you create all kinds of stuff to deny it.  Like I did,” Terrell reasoned.  “Even to the point of actually believing the lies.”

“Who wants to deal with it?”  Arthur asked.  “I don’t know any gay person who grows up thinking, ‘hey I like being this way.  I like getting the shit kicked out of me.’  No matter what, there was always some time we all wished we weren’t gay.”

“But we don’t all go through the same experiences.  Arthur, man they came at me hard.  I didn’t know what to do but give in.”  He took another drink as if to flush away the memory.

 “Yeah, but to say you didn’t know…”

“Honest man, I thought I had changed.”

“Your ol’ man and the bishop musta really done a number on you.”

“The point is, I was being honest with her,” Terrell persisted.

“I’m sure you were.”  Arthur reached over and rubbed Terrell’s shoulder.

The two men sat for a while, Terrell in wounded silence and Arthur the pillar for him to lean on.

“I saw Stanton the other day,” Terrell spoke suddenly.  “He wanted to know if I had been doing any talking.”

“Oh.  Have you?”

“No.  It’s like I told him, that’s their business.”

“Mmh!” Arthur exclaimed, “They got a lot to lose if you start talking, y’know.  That’s what’s got them worried.  And then, what you did to Bishop Abrams is really tripping them out.”

“That was different though.  He deserved what he got.  But the rest of them… they don’t have anything to worry about.”

They sat for a minute or so before Arthur continued.

“So your wife thinks you were lying all that time.”

“Uh huh.  I guess it’s hard for her to believe anyone wouldn’t know their sexual attraction.”

“It is.  But look, what’s done is done.  Now you gotta know what to do next.”

Slowly nodding, Terrell agreed.  “I just need somebody to be on my side through all this.”

Arthur fell silent.  He tapped the table a few times and looked at Terrell.  “What do you mean?”

“Just somebody to be there for me.”

“I don’t know what you need me for.  I mean, I don’t understand, you know, what you want from me.”

“Just a friend.  That’s all.”  He sat back and shook his head.  “These days I need friends.”

“Well... I guess I can do that…as long as I don’t get caught up in the middle of some crazy shit, like your wife shooting at you, or nothing like that.”  Arthur smiled.  “Anyway, you probably won’t find many friendly faces in your old circle.  Besides, you are cool people.  Ain’t too many of those around.”

“Thanks.”  Terrell slapped Arthur on the arm.  “Thanks.”

 

After dropping Arthur off, Terrell headed back toward downtown.  He wasn’t ready to deal with Karen just yet.

Driving down Gilbert Avenue, he thought of the pain he was causing his wife.  She shouldn’t have to pay for his mistake.  All he had done to make it through life only winded up a mess.  He had tried so hard to do what was right.  And for what?  Was this the price for it all?

He recalled how they met.  She was finishing her graduate studies at Xavier University and he was at the University of Cincinnati.  The two of them had met through a friend of Bishop Abrams who had told the bishop of a nice young lady from Atlanta.  He had asked the bishop if he knew of a good young Christian man the young lady could meet, and Terrell immediately came to mind.  For the bishop and Terrell’s father, such a pairing would be the final act of all their work.

They had spent the last few years breaking him from a life of homosexuality.  They had conveniently dealt with Otis, and afterwards, they sat about ridding Terrell of the poison that moved in his mind.

For hours at a time he read scripture and heard testimonies from men who had become clean of their illness, while at home he was threatened with estrangement from his family.

Finally, he was shown the virtues of womanhood, its beauty and comfort; and from there he was taught the art of male seduction, a matter that made even the bishop blush, but something he knew was necessary.  Eventually, all Terrell’s thoughts of beauty and of things once sensuous to him had been displaced.  Those were the things he learned and in time the wonder of men and the pain of missing Otis died away.

In the eyes of Terrell’s father and Bishop Abrams, Karen was the reward he earned for his change of ways.

The late evening sun had moved the city to a deep orange the day he first saw her sitting in front of her building waiting for him.  She sat reading a book and her long brown neck bent forward reminded him of a flower in repose.

When he first stood before her, he marveled at how bright her smile was.  It moved slowly at first, as if in consideration of its visitor, before rising to fullness, pulling anyone near to her warmth.  She was reading a book on the movement of early Africans into Asia.  He recalled feeling foolish standing in her presence – he a future accountant – but her gracious ways put him at ease.

That evening they ate on a terraced restaurant in Mt. Adams overlooking the city.   Behind them the night moved in, bringing with it the lights of the city below and the stars overhead.  That was the night he fell in love with her.

But love hadn’t been enough to erase who he was, because even then, over the years, there were parts of his past that spilled into his new life.  Witnessing a man’s beauty while in the supermarket; or making love to his wife while thinking of a man and moving closer to ejaculation; those were moments when he knew he hadn’t been able to completely rid himself of his homosexuality, but he had learned to make those moments inconsequential.

No, he hadn’t been honest with his wife.  He hadn’t been honest with his father and the bishop, or with his mother and his sister.  But most of all he hadn’t been honest with himself.

And now, as he drove the near empty streets of the city, he yearned for something to fill him, to embrace him now, to say in spite of it all, he was loved.

Looking up, he found himself once again in front of the apartment building where the man lived, and once again he stared at the play of light and dark behind the curtains.

 

 

CHAPTER SIX

 
The young man seemed far away even though he sat just a few feet from Karen.  In the past weeks so many things seemed distant to her.  But she hadn’t noticed this change in her perception because it brought her comfort; it brought her relief from the immediacy of her pain.

“Dr. Mitchell, you okay?”

Karen loosened her stare.  “Yes.  I’m fine.”  She focused her attention on the young man.  After all, she was the one who had asked him to come to her office.  “I was just thinking… Luther, I want to know if everything is okay with you.”

He leaned forward, folding his hands on her desk forming one large fist.  “I’m alright,” he said as he nervously licked his lips.

“Then what’s happening with your attendance?  And your grades, they’re falling.”

The young man was one of her better students.  She had taken a liking to him; his sense of humor and his easy laughter.  But he had changed in recent weeks, and she needed to know why.  “Did practice take too much of your time?”

He sat up and answered quickly, “No ma’am.”

“Because if it did, I can talk to Steve and work on a program for you.  I know he’ll work with you.”

“I’m fine,” the young man said, assuring her with a smile.

But she saw in his eyes that he wasn’t okay.  For a quick second she wondered if she would be able to coax an answer from him, but that thought faded as her own sadness moved in.

“Well, let’s try to work a bit harder, like you used to,” she finally said.  “And if there is a problem with being on the team, I can work with you on that too.  Alright?”

He nodded, his head dipping below his broad shoulders.

After the young man left she walked across the hall to the department head’s office.

“Arline?” she spoke as she stepped through the doorway.  “I have to leave.  I’ll see you tomorrow at the staff meeting.”

Dr. Hendrix turned around from her computer. “Oh, you’re heading out kind of early.”

“Yeah.  I have some business to tend to.  See you tomorrow.”

 

Karen pulled into the lot and parked beside Bishop Lawrence’s car.  She entered the church through the side door that led to the office, but once inside she turned and walked up to the sanctuary.  She had heard many stories of Terrell growing up in this church, and in her mind she saw the passing of the years that led him from boyhood to adulthood. 

Standing there in the silence, she wondered what went wrong?  What happened to turn such a good person into the man he had become?

“Hi Sister Mitchell.  I thought that was you who drove into the parking lot.”  It was Sister Barnes, the church secretary.

Karen turned around suddenly, “Oh.  Hi.  I’m here to meet with the bishop.”

“Yes.  He’s waiting for you.”

“Come on in, Sister Mitchell,” the bishop said as he stood behind his desk. 

“Thank you.”

Bishop Lawrence walked over and shook her hand.  “Can I get you anything?”

“No.  I’m fine.”

The bishop closed the door and walked back to his desk.  “I’m glad you came to see me.”

“I wanted Terrell to come as well, but he wouldn’t.”

“No.  I’m sure he wouldn’t.  From the way he responded at the deacon’s board meeting, I’m not too surprised.  But let’s talk about you, Karen.  How are you holding up?”

“I’m holding up okay.  I don’t know what the next day might bring, but I’m holding up okay.”

“None of us do,” the bishop said with a smile.  “That’s why we have God to lean on.”

“I can’t believe Terrell refused to come today.  When I called you, I had intended on both of us being here.  It’s like… it’s like he doesn’t want to work on our marriage.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions.  Brother Mitchell is a good man, and I can’t believe he doesn’t want to work on your marriage.  He’s going through a lot right now and maybe he just needs to be given space.”

Karen looked at the bishop, her eyes wide. “Space?  He has space.  How much space does he need?”

“Maybe it’s not the amount of space, but the type of space.”

 “What are you saying?”

The bishop got up and walked to the front of his desk, seating himself on it just inches from her.

“Brother Mitchell has been through the fire once before and he was pulled from it.  He’s back in it once again, but this time I think he has to walk through it.  That’s why he didn’t come with you today.  But I want to focus on you and the kids.  Brother Mitchell’s going to do what he has to do to get through all this.  Now it’s time for you to do the same.”

The pain Karen had been holding in now rose from her chest over the rims of her eyes and slowly rolled down her cheeks.

Bishop Lawrence handed her a small box of tissues.  She pulled out a few before waving the box away.

“It’s not going to be easy, Sister Mitchell.  In fact, it’s going to be hell.  And it’s like you said, you won’t know what the next day might bring.  It might be raining now, but in the end it’ll all be sunshine.”  He smiled.  “Corny statement, I know, but it’s true.”

“So what do I do in the meantime, while he tries to ‘find’ himself.  Just sit and watch?”

“No.  You work on you and work on keeping those kids safe.  That’s why I want you to see me again, and again until I’m convinced you and the kids are doing fine.  Sister Mitchell, look.  There are going to be storms coming, but you know ‘trouble don’t last always.’”

After the session, Karen walked out to her car.  Once inside, she sat for a moment.  Her mind and her heart seemed to be speaking to one another about what the bishop had told her.  She continued to sit, caught between understanding and confusion, but at least a bit of the pain had been lifted.

 

~~~~

 

“He’s always been that way,” Charmaine said to Karen as they sat in the sunroom.  “I didn’t go into it too much the other day when we were at Mom’s, but truth be known, Karen, he’s always been that way.”

“I didn’t know that.”

Charmaine nodded.  “Being just the two of us, we shared a lot.  When we were kids, he and I would sit and watch TV and we would gush over the handsome men we would see.  Mom and Daddy didn’t know any of this.  He and I just kept it between the two of us, you know, like a game.”

“You think you might have influenced him?”

“No,” Charmaine shook her head.  “He came to me first.  We were watching a show, and in the show a man took off his shirt and Terrell smiled and said ‘ooh, look’.  He was grinning ear to ear.”  She paused before continuing.  “I agreed with him, you know, thinking nothing of it because…what child really thinks about their sexuality?  And from there it just kind of took off.  We were always looking through magazines to find handsome men and we would laugh and enjoy ourselves.  Just the two of us.”  She stared past Karen.  “And then we became older and we stopped talking about all that.”  She straightened the sleeve about her wrist.  “You learn not to share so much when you become older.  But I knew he hadn’t stopped liking men.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he never stopped watching them.”  She looked at Karen as she continued.  “He went into hiding, and as he became older, he became even more secretive.  He would shut himself in a room and just sit.  Sometimes I would hear him moving around, but other than that he was quiet as a mouse.”  She shook her head, “Quiet.  Like he had died.”

Charmaine and Karen took a walk as they continued to talk about Terrell.  They walked up the street, turning onto another, anywhere to get away from the pain that had been distilled there in the sunroom.

“When did Otis come on the scene?” Karen asked.  They waited for a light to change at a crosswalk.

“It was the year before he graduated.  Late fall of his junior year when the phone calls started coming.  I don’t know how they met.  I’m guessing in school, because you know Daddy was strict.  We didn’t go too many places.  But it was strange you know, because when the calls started coming, I wondered who Terrell might be talking to.  He would take the phone and a smile would come over his face.  And then he would go into another room and talk for what seemed like hours.”

“Why was that strange?”

“Nobody called us.  We had no friends, just each other.  And then later, when I found out it was Otis he was talking to I was shocked.”

“Why?”

“Because Otis and his brother were all that.  Good looking.  Football players and big with the ladies.  Completely out of Terrell’s league.  So I was surprised when I found out he was doing all that talking with Otis.  To make a long story short, they became an item.  At first it was a secret, but then word got out and tongues started wagging.”

“And that’s when your father stepped in,” Karen added.

Charmaine nodded.  “It was a mess.  Me and Momma were so scared.  Daddy beat him and beat him it seemed every chance he got.  He wouldn’t look at Terrell unless it was to hit him.”

“Oh my God.”

“Sometimes Terrell would get up off the floor and his mouth would be bleeding.  And Daddy wouldn’t care.  He felt he had a right to do what he did to him.  And Momma would just cry.  I would too.”

Karen put her hand on her sister-in-law’s arm.  “You don’t have to go on.”

But Charmaine needed to go on.

“Finally Bishop Abrams stepped in.  He told Daddy he was wrong to treat Terrell so harsh.  Daddy stopped hitting on him, but he and Bishop Abrams started working on a plan to get Terrell back to where he should be.”  Suddenly, Charmaine laughed.  “They didn’t know he already was where he should be.”

“What happened to Otis?”

“They got him for statutory rape.  He and Terrell were just about six months apart in age.  But Daddy and Bishop Abrams waited until Otis turned eighteen and they got him.  Sent him to prison.  Destroyed his life.  It didn’t matter that they were just six months apart.”  She looked sternly ahead.  “Daddy hurt a lot of people.  And now he’s gone.  No ‘I’m sorry.’ No remorse.”  Then she turned to Karen, “Kind of makes you wonder if there’s a God, doesn’t it?”

 “It seemed everybody was after them, so it was easy to convict Otis,” Charmaine said as they climbed the stairs of her front porch.  “Then they took Terrell away.”

“What do you mean?  He never told me…”

“Emotionally.  They took him away from me.  I don’t know what they did to him, but he changed over those months after the trial.  He wasn’t the same Terrell anymore.  He started talking about women, the way guys are supposed to.  And he lost his laughter.  Instead of laughing he would just smile a lot as if he wasn’t sure of anything.”  She looked at Karen with a confusion that had carried through the years.  “It was years before he laughed again.”

 

Karen looked up from her work to check on the kids.  They were laying in front of the TV on large pillows, whispering to each other.  Karen watched them and wondered if they were whispering so as not to disturb her, or if they were speaking of the cold silence in the house and Terrell’s absence of late.  They were aware.  She could tell by the way they walked around the house, thoughtful of every move they made, with eyes that seemed to hold  constant apologies.

She knew that, for herself, so much had changed.  Things in her life that were once easy now seemed stiff and unyielding, and bends once easily rounded were now crude edges that assaulted her.  She wondered which of these things the children were discussing through their whispers.

Later that night, she sat in her room.  She was afraid to lie down because she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep.  The simple act of lying in bed was painful and she knew the thrashing of her body and the twists of sheet would only heighten her anxiety, so she sat in a chair across from the bed with a book in her lap and attempted to read.

Her eyes moved across the pages of the book as she sought relief, but her mind recounted the day.  At the beginning of the day there was a glint of hope that she could save her marriage and hold her family together.  But by the day’s end she had found herself beaten by the words of those from whom she had sought relief.

She couldn’t believe Bishop Lawrence had been so quick to dismiss Terrell.  Bishop Abrams wouldn’t have done such a thing if he were still there.  And what about Charmaine?  Her words that Terrell ‘was already where he should be’ stung and showed that she had never had much confidence in his salvation, or his marriage to her.

The incidents of her day had been too much to bear, and now she felt herself going under.

She knew she had only one person she could talk to now, and with that thought she picked up the phone and placed the call.

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 
Saturday came with hope.  Terrell crept into Abassi’s room and stood for a while watching him sleep.  The blanket hung partially from his bed and he was half curled on his side with one small hand under his pillow as if he was about to run with it.  Terrell watched the small figure there in the growing sunlight, a gift on a sea of white.  He stood and tried to make a connection between what was and what could be.

After a while he walked over to the bed and gently called to him.

Abassi slowly came awake.  Upon seeing his father bending over him, his eyes brightened.

“Daddeee!”  He threw his arms around his father’s neck.

“Shhh, we don’t want to wake mommy.”

“Okay.”

He lifted his son from bed and made his way to Kenya’s room where he awakened her as well, then the three of them went down to the kitchen to fix breakfast.

Later, Karen came down.  She came into the kitchen and smiled, “Mm, something smells good,” she said to the kids.

“I put the pancakes on griddle,” Abassi exclaimed.

“You did?  I’m proud of you.  And what did you do, baby?” she asked Kenya.

“I mixed it all together first…and I made the coffee.”

Karen glanced at Terrell.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling a warning to her.

This time Karen’s laughter was genuine, and it caused him to laugh as well.

“Okay, let’s eat,”  Terrell said and they sat down to their meal as a family.

“Is your back okay, Daddy?”  Kenya asked.

Terrell wasn’t sure where her question was coming from, she was just that clever.

“It’s doing better,” he replied.

“That’s good.”

 

It was around twelve when they loaded into the car to go to the grocery store.

Once there, Karen and Terrell moved along the aisles talking more with the kids rather than to each other.  Often, Terrell would glance at other families and wish for better days, but he wasn’t sure how to bring them back.

But for Karen it was done.  She had made the phone call and now only waited for the next move.  For her the uneasiness of encountering someone they knew in the store was on her mind, especially if they were aware of her situation.

There were a few familiar faces along the way.  Some would slow and chat briefly, but mostly they would offer faint smiles that barely masked their sorrow or their confusion, and then they would move on.

After they dropped off the groceries at the house, Abassi said he wanted to go downtown.

Terrell looked at Karen and her eyes told him what his answer should be, so he suggested they go to the mall instead.

While they were in a clothing store, Terrell noticed a man standing a bit away.  He appeared to be in his early sixties and had a particularly polished look.  He stood beside a younger man who languished in contrast to the older man’s aplomb.  The young man held up a pair of jeans to show the gentleman, saying something, to which the gentleman chuckled, swinging back and forth on his heels.

It was the elder man’s arrogance that caused Terrell to recognize him.  He tried to move out of the man’s view, but his movement caught the man’s attention.  The man looked at Terrell and his eyes flashed in anger before turning to a sardonic glint.

“Terrell,” he said.

Karen and the kids turned to see who had called.

“Hi, Jerry.”  Terrell spoke more at him than to him.

The man walked over the short distance to where Terrell stood.  “I haven’t seen you in a while.”  He glanced at Karen as he spoke.

“It’s been a while,” Terrell replied.  He felt his wife studying them.

Karen walked up to where they stood.

Looking at her, the man extended his hand.  “Jerry.”

Terrell immediately continued the introduction.

Karen and the man shook hands.

“Nice to meet you,” Jerry said with a smile.

“Me as well,” Karen replied.

“I’m a friend of Bishop Abrams.”

“Oh.”  Karen smiled.  “Have you heard from him?  How is he doing?”

“Okay, considering…” He raised his brow and looked at Terrell, then back to Karen.  “He and Sister Abrams plan on returning from their trip soon.”

“Oh… that’s good.”  She studied the man’s face as she continued talking.  “I really want to spend some time with them, to make sure they’re alright.”

“Me too,” Jerry said.

The two of them quickly eyed Terrell who had been standing by in silence.

“Well, it was nice meeting you,” Karen said.  “I’d better make sure the kids aren’t about to take us to the bank.”

At that moment the young man came over.  “I got what I want.”  He spoke brusquely and without regard to Karen and Terrell.

Jerry looked sternly at him prompting the young man to recognize them.

“Oh.  I’m KaVon.”  He smiled and shook Karen’s hand.  Then turning to Terrell, “I remember you,” he said.

Karen’s eyes hardened.  “Well, it was nice meeting the two of you.”  She left.

Jerry waited until Karen was out of earshot.  “Stanton said he saw you the other week.”  He spoke cautiously, checking Terrell once over.

“Yeah, I saw him while I was at lunch.”

“Did the two of you talk?”

“Look Jerry, like I told him that day, and like I told Arthur the other night, I’m out of it.”

“You must’ve been at The Phoenix…to have seen Arthur,” Jerry remarked.  “Why were you at The Phoenix?”  He grinned at Terrell.

“It’s none of your business.”

“Man…’’ KaVon started, but Jerry stopped him.

He turned back to Terrell, “You’re right.  That’s none of my business.  We should never be in each other’s business.”

“I have to get back to my family,” Terrell said.  He walked away.

On the way home, Karen rode in silence.

 

~~~~

 

Sunday.  Karen and the kids had gone to church without Terrell.  He hadn’t been since he was dismissed from the deacon’s board.

He sat in the morning sun that came through the windows of the study.  He sat and tried to recreate the joy he once felt living in his home, but it escaped him.  Even the warm morning light couldn’t raise his spirits.  In fact it made him feel even more estranged.  The brightness of the light, falling through the windows, encircling him, only called attention to his loneliness, pulling it forth, laying it out in fact, laying it out before his eyes.

He sat with his breakfast on a table beside him.  Alongside his breakfast were his bible and the Sunday edition of the newspaper.  He sat for a while and stared ahead.  The family photos, the pieces of art collected over the years, the books on the shelves, all of those things lacked intimacy.  They seemed as if they belonged to someone else.

His eyes moved to the table and the Bible that laid on it.  He looked at the richness of the cover: burgundy colored with the word ‘Holy Bible’ inlaid in gold on the fine leather bound.  But all he could do was stare at it, just as he stared at the walls.

Moments passed before he began his breakfast.  Then he unfolded the newspaper and began to read it.

This was how he now spent Sunday mornings.

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

 
Last spring was more pleasant.  It was brighter and cooler.  But this spring was something else.  It was contrite.  A nasty little something.  This went through Karen’s mind as she walked across campus through the damp air.  She measured her strides.  They had become wider and quicker, propelled by an urgency that had become a prominent part of her life.  She cherished this urgency because it offered to move her to a place that was far from the crazy ride her husband had taken her on.

‘What had he been doing while she was away?’  That was the question that crowded her head.  The furtive way he and the older man talked in the store the other day; the way the younger man recalled him.  The younger man, crude and broken, how he had grinned when he recalled him.  ‘What the hell had Terrell been doing?’

“Karen, slow down!”  Dr. Hendrix protested.  She had been trying to keep up with Karen.  “We’re not rushing from a fire, dammit.”

“I’m sorry, Arline.”  Karen stopped and gave her boss a chance to catch her breath.

“I thought we were supposed to take a leisurely stroll from the faculty club.  Not run a marathon.  My god!  Enjoy the day,” Arline gasped.

They were up along the football stadium, and Karen looked out over the field.  Dr. Hendrix was right.

“Yeah, I guess I did suggest a leisurely stroll.”  Karen smiled and took a few seconds to look about the sprawling campus.  “I need to slow it down.”

On the field below, the students played a game of scrimmage football.  A few of the players waved at her and Dr. Hendrix.  They waved back.

One of the players called out, “Five o’clock?”  It was Luther.

Karen waved back.  “On the nose.”

“That boy loves football, doesn’t he?” Dr. Hendrix remarked.  “You’d think he would want to rest during the off-season.”

“Yeah,” Karen said as she watched him.

“Are you still having problems with him?” Dr. Hendrix asked.

“No, nothing major.  I am a little concerned about him.  His grades have been slipping and he seems like he’s somewhere else these days.  I just want to keep in touch with him every once in a while.”  She watched the young man a bit longer.  “So many people going through so many things,” she said halfway to herself.

Karen couldn’t wait a second more for Luther.  It was a little after five.  She had told him she had an errand to run after work and had to leave promptly at five.  He had suggested he meet with her anyway and that maybe they could talk while he walked her to the garage.  His request was uncommon, but she found she couldn’t turn him away.

As she started down the walkway she saw him jogging toward her, his long muscular legs moving on slight pigeon toes as he approached.

“Sorry.  I got tied up,” he said with a broad smile.  “Had to meet with my study group.”

She looked at him.  He was handsome, standing tall against the late afternoon sky.  “Well, you know I told you I had someplace to be.  But at least you were studying.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Your grades have picked up a bit.  You still need to do more, though,” she spoke as they headed through the quad.

“I’ve been studying more.”

“And partying less?”

He grinned.  “Yes ma’am.”

They walked a bit more before he spoke, this time with a bit of caution.  “But that ain’t why I’ve been having problems.”  He adjusted his book bag on his back and looked forward.  “It’s problems with my girl.”

Karen nodded her head, “Mmh.  I don’t know what’s going on with the two of you…she’s not pregnant, is she?”

Luther laughed.  “I hope not!”

“That’s good.  Try to hold off on that for a while… at least until you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Nah, I’m not ready for that.  It’s just that she keeps puttin’ me off.  It’s like, one minute we’ll be together and everything’s fine, then the next, I don’t know…” He attempted to smile but what came to his face was a wince.

“That doesn’t sound too promising.”

Luther didn’t respond.

“If she’s that way, then why date her?” Karen asked.

“Because I love her.”

“Love has to be requited, returned, for a relationship to work.”

They walked past the library toward the garage.

“I understand why she acts like that, though,” Luther explained.  “She got an image to keep up… Her family… they, uh, they’re pretty high profile.”

Karen stopped at the garage entrance.  “And she’s not sure if you would be accepted.”

“Yeah,” he said.

“You don’t need that.  If her image is that important, to the point she feels she has a right to dismiss you, then she’s not worth it.”

Luther looked at her with eyes that understood and even agreed, but he held steadfast in his position.

“Right now, your school is more important.”

“Yes ma’am.”  His hands slid self consciously along the straps at his shoulders.

“Well I have to run now,” Karen said.

“Okay.”

Karen turned to go into the garage.

“Professor Mitchell?”

She looked back.  “Yes?”

“Can we talk more?”

In spite of her own world of problems, she smiled and answered, “Yes.”

 

~~~~~

 

Terrell sat in his car and watched the men and women as they came out of the building.  Sometime as one, sometime in two’s and three’s they came like waste from the bowels of the dilapidated structure.  The turning of their heads and twitching of their bodies as they sought their next fix appeared harrowing beneath the orange-tinted glare of the streetlamps.

He paused while eating his meal and watched them until they disappeared down the vein of a dark alley.

Night had arrived and in its silent, dark reach above, it sat ruefully over the ravaged earth below.  Terrell had come to know the night, these past weeks, for all its promise and hateful delivery; yet, it was becoming as much a part of his life these days as the uncertainty he carried.

He finished his meal and set the bag of trash on the floor of the car; then he looked at his watch.  It was only eight o’clock, forty-five minutes since he had left the office.  It was still too early to go home.

After a while of mulling over places to go, he decided to drive east of the city.  That way, he thought, if the sun rose before he got home he’d at least have a smiling face to greet him.

Passing through the Mt. Lookout district, he happened upon a theatre.  On the marquee it announced a showing of a foreign film.  He paid the admission and entered the theatre where he settled deep into his seat and drifted off to sleep.

It was a little after eleven when he drove through the spilled moonlight along the winding back roads that led to his home.  The night stirred, inviting the trees into the car, their aroma filling his head with pleasant thoughts.  He was calm.  Once again the neighbors wouldn’t see him arrive, only leave.  Again, everything would appear normal.

Pulling into the driveway he noticed a lamp on inside the house.  It was in the den.  Then, before he could depress the remote, the garage door opened.  In the space beside Karen’s car, the space where he was to park sat five boxes, all of them sealed.  He slowed to a stop, put the car in park and stared at them.  The moment brightened.  Everything became clear.

The door that led from the kitchen opened and Karen stepped through.  Close behind her came her sister, Tess, and a large man.

Terrell got out of the car.  His eyes welled with tears.  “Karen…”

“You have to go.”  Karen looked at him with hard eyes.  Her words issued forth as if she had been rehearsing them for much of the day.

“You have to go,” she repeated.  She stood with her arms in a feeble cross under her bosom.  Her sister stood behind her with her arms crossed in much more defiance and just to the left of her sister stood the large man looking unsure of his feelings but in compliance with what seemed his duty.

Terrell stood a while longer, hanging there in the moonlight and watched all he had worked so hard for fade away.  He wanted to speak but he knew the words would lose their power before they passed his lips.

Slowly, he walked over and lifted one of the boxes.  The large man started forward to help him but was halted by Tess.

Terrell loaded the last box into the car, there in that moment laid bare in the moonlight, open to mouths that would speak of it for time to come.  And without another word, he climbed into the car and backed out of the driveway.  In the lengthening distance he heard his wife moan, “You did this, Terrell.  You did this.”

 

 

CHAPTER NINE

 
“Damn…I can stay here all night,” the man declared as he reclined in the bed.

Terrell sat beside him in silence, a drink in his lap, and watched TV.  After leaving the house, he’d driven around trying to connect what had happened to what he needed to do to go on, but all the driving and searching brought were more questions and a one-nighter with a stranger he’d met outside a twenty-four hour laundromat.

Terrell had gone into the laundromat to take a piss and as he came out he saw the man standing beside the doorway smoking a cigarette, and with hungry stares exchanged between them, the night was set.

The man’s name was Orlando.  He was waiting for his clothes to dry.  He said it wouldn’t take long and that he was looking for something to get into.

 Terrell waited for him.  He hadn’t started drinking yet, but the sense of abandon he would feel with each swallow of liquor had already begun.

 

After dropping off the man’s clothes to his mother’s house, where he said he was staying until he got back on his feet, they stopped for food and a bottle of whiskey, then headed to a motel.

“You can stay the night if you want.”  Terrell answered while keeping his eyes on the screen.  In a minute or so he knew the CNN anchor would announce that what he was going through had only been a dream and that his wife wanted him to come home.

“Then I guess I can get more comfortable,” Orlando said as he pulled the towel from around his waist.

Terrell looked over at the man’s naked body beside him.  It was both beautiful and menacing, a long dark canyon of muscle and hair, and he felt small charges in his own body...

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