The Things We Do for Love, page 10
“I’m not comfortable with that,” I said, crossing my arms again. “If what my friend says is true, you don’t hesitate to put your hands on women.”
“Okay, okay,” Earl replied, laughing falsely and patting the girl on the shoulder. “I, uh, had a misunderstanding earlier today, Deidre.” He nodded to me. “I’ll clear us a table in the corner over there, come on.”
It was pretty clear that Earl had some official role at the café; four tough-looking young men were enjoying their meals at a corner table until he rolled up on them, snapping his fingers. “I’m taking this one over, fellas,” he said matter-of-factly.
The youngbloods glared at Earl sideways but were gone before I could protest on their behalf. “Okay,” he said while motioning for me to take a seat, “whatever she told you, most of it’s probably true.”
“Did you hit her, chase her to her car even?”
Earl sat ramrod straight, like a banker negotiating a deal, but he couldn’t quite meet my stare. “Look, I’m not into begging, sister, but I’m asking you up front to hear me out before you involve the police. I’ve got what some might call an unfortunate past.”
“Let me guess,” I said, my tone still blank and official. “A rap sheet?”
“A ‘rap sheet,’ yeah,” Earl said, clearly amused by my term. “Guess that’s what they call it in the movies, huh? Doesn’t matter. All I’m saying is, I may have reacted too instinctively with your friend—what’s her name?”
“You don’t need to know that,” I replied. “Look, she already told me she started it, attacking this guy, uh,” I said, stammering with shame about my prior knowledge of Suzette’s stalking. “Um, I think she said his name is Adrian?”
“Yeah,” Earl replied, “that’s my baby brother you talking about.” He lowered his voice, but his tone grew steely. “That’s who she bum-rushed, kicked in the nuts, and called a ‘faggot.’ And that was only the beginning—the stuff she was saying, my big mama would have needed a gallon of soapy water to cleanse that mouth.”
I dropped my eyes this time, knowing in the depths of my soul that this stranger was not exaggerating.
Earl wasn’t ashamed of what he’d done, I could see that, but he was respectful enough to look away every few words. “I had to get her away from him,” he said, measuring his tone and speaking with deliberation. “Things got out of control real fast, and I know from experience that Adrian can’t handle that type of stress.”
I wiped a tear from my left eye. “You couldn’t have just escorted her outside? Why did you hit her, chase her?”
“Ma’am,” Earl said, surprising me with the term—given that he looked at least five years older than me, “my main goal was to get her away from Adrian before he started reliving the beating he took last year. While my brother was still on the floor, curled up in a ball, I took your friend by both hands and picked her up so I could get her outdoors. She fought me the whole way, though. And let me tell you, when you have a woman that strong and big swinging fists and sharp nails at you, you have to protect yourself. If I landed a blow to her while trying to keep from getting my eyes scratched out, well, may your God forgive me.”
I fought the shaky sensation welling up inside me, the tragedy of what had happened closing in. “So why did you leave her there at her car, after she’d banged her head so violently?”
“Ma’am,” Earl replied, spreading his hands in supplication, “she went down hard, I’ll admit, but she got back to her feet pretty quickly, opened her car door, then told me to go have sex with myself, if you know what I mean.” He held both hands up. “Something told me if I took another step toward her, I’d be back in lockup before I knew it.”
“You weren’t afraid she’d come back and press charges?”
His mouth shut, Earl rolled his tongue around his gums and eyed me with what almost felt like sympathy. “I do have witnesses, Reverend, remember, beyond my brother. The bartender,” he said, pointing, “and four other patrons were in here when it went down, along with the owner who was sitting with us. That said, don’t think the cops wouldn’t see my ‘rap sheet’ and have a good time makin’ me sweat before finally letting me go.”
I shook my head, accepting finally that Suzette’s desire to keep this nightmare quiet was the right instinct. “Let me at least speak to the bartender and owner,” I said, my voice shaking. “If they vouch for you, you won’t hear from us again.”
“All right, sister.” Earl pulled a cigarette from the pack he’d been holding during our conversation, lit it, and took his first pull before looking me over with stern eyes. “Legal or not in here, there’s just times a man needs a smoke,” he said. “You tell your friend everything’s cool so long as she just forgets Adrian even exists,” he continued. “That woman’s problem is with her two-faced husband, not my brother. At least Adrian’s honest about who he is.”
I nodded weakly, robbed of the appetite for a scriptural argument over homosexuality.
“I mean,” Earl continued as I reached for my purse, “I’m the first to understand how upset women get about gay brothers. For years I didn’t even talk to Adrian; couldn’t believe he was sweet. Our parents ain’t raise us to be like that, know what I mean?”
“No, I completely understand,” I said, easing back into my seat and sensing Earl needed this moment to vent. I may have been more sensitive than the usual audience in his life. “Whatever you think about the acceptability of the gay lifestyle, our people have been the slowest to acknowledge it.”
“That’s for sure.” Earl blew out a plume of smoke, confirming I wouldn’t be able to stick around for long; the acrid smell could quickly make me sick. “Yeah, after he first ‘came out’ to the family when he was in college, I pretty much avoided him. Even when he came to visit me in prison, I was embarrassed, you know, scared my fellow inmates would see him and think I was the same way. And you know that was the last place you’d want folk getting the wrong impression.” We shared a laugh before he continued.
“Anyway, when I saw him in the hospital last year, after some punks attacked him and a boyfriend at a club in Virginia, I about lost my mind. I mean, if you’re not down with what those dudes do, it’s all good, but to beat ’em until they’re black-and-blue . . .” He stopped speaking and strategically broke eye contact. “Never again, sister,” he said, “never again.”
I sat there silently with Earl for a few seconds as his emotions hung in the air between us. Just as I opened my mouth to share a word of spiritual counsel, my cell phone sounded off from within my purse. “Earl,” I said, placing a hand on his elbow, “if you’ll excuse me, I may need to take this call.”
“Not a problem, Reverend,” he said, slapping a hand against the table and rising to his feet. “When you’re off the phone, I’ll send Charlie and Murray over. They can put you at ease about what went down.”
I mouthed “thank you” to Earl as he turned away, then opened the phone to answer Jesse’s call. “Hey, handsome,” I said, struggling to level out the anxiety in my tone.
Jesse didn’t sound too much happier than I felt. “You okay, babe?” I hadn’t done a very good job, apparently.
“I’m all right,” I said. “I—I have good news about my interview today. I’ll give you the details when we get home, but Pastor Norm just might make a believer out of you.”
“That sounds great,” Jesse said, though his tone didn’t match the enthusiasm in his message. “Look, I’m not gonna be home on schedule for our workout.” With me off for the day, we had planned on going to the gym early before showering and making it a date night.
“Okay,” I said, confused. “You guys going back into the studio for the afternoon or something?”
Jesse paused, then sighed, as if struggling with what to say. “I’m over at Coleman and Zette’s,” he said. “I’ll fill you in tonight, but in the meantime they need some serious prayer.”
I looked up to see Earl still hovering over me, a concerned look in his eyes as I spoke. “Baby,” I said, “you’ll be filling me in sooner than that. I better go pick Zette up now.”
12
Jesse
Suzette!” Coleman’s face lit up in pained shock when our wives walked into his kitchen, where we’d been praying and paging through a well-worn Bible his grandfather had purchased the year he was born. Even though I had shared the little bit about Suzette’s adventures that Dionne had relayed over the phone, the sight of Suzette’s face—the swollen, blackened eye only partially concealed by a large bandage—caught Coleman off guard.
He bolted from his seat, rushing to her as she recoiled in what felt more like shame than rejection. “I didn’t know it was this bad,” he said with righteous, wounded anger.
“I’m okay, Coleman,” Suzette mumbled before craning her neck and turning her eyes upward. “The kids home?”
“Yes,” Coleman said, pressing his hands lovingly into her arms as he helped her out of her jacket. “I mean, I hadn’t expected Jesse to come over when he did—”
“They’re fine, Zette,” I said. “Coleman let them set up their video games on the TV in your master suite. They’re in their own little world up there.”
“Good,” Suzette said, her voice still weak, even though a flicker of the usual fire had returned to her eyes. “Just so long as they haven’t heard a thing you two been talking about.”
I looked away from Suzette toward Dionne, who was now leaning against one of the counters and tapping a foot softly. “Hey,” I mouthed, knowing my eyes were asking the real question on my mind: Should we get out of here and let these two work this out? Or are we all that’s standing between them and the type of fights that end marriages?
An uneasy, murky silence filled the kitchen. It felt like everyone was waiting for someone else to speak. “Coleman and I have spent the last two hours praying and studying the Word,” I said finally. “God has moved in a mighty way, and Coleman would like all of us to hear him explain how.”
“This is private, Coleman.” Suzette hadn’t moved one inch from the spot where she’d landed when she first entered the kitchen, and she showed no interest in taking a seat or even leaning like Dionne against a counter. “I love these two, but you are my husband. Whatever sins you have to fess up to, I’m the one who should hear about them first.”
“Really?” A hand at his chin, stroking his beard, Coleman had wandered over to the sliding glass door near the kitchen’s island. “When do I hear about your sins?”
Suzette’s eyes flashed and she started so fast, I was surprised that she didn’t actually move. “What did you say to me?”
“Jesse told me you went into DC trying to play detective,” Coleman said, “but, Suzette, what were you doing that got you into a physical fight? No lady, least of all a Christian lady, should—”
“Coleman.” Dionne raised a hand calmly, shutting Coleman down with love in her eyes. “Suzette went overboard, but what she did today was motivated by her love for you.” It felt like the bottom of my stomach dropped out when my wife shuddered and tears sprouted from her eyes. “She just doesn’t want to have to share you, Coleman, that’s all.”
Coleman seemed intent on avoiding Suzette’s deadly glare; instead, he crossed his arms and stared back at Dionne. “You’re putting a nice wrapper on the ugly truth, Dionne,” he said. “My wife is a homophobe. All these years she told me she believed me, trusted my word over the slanders of people trying to tear me down and question my sexual morality.” Coleman’s voice had risen now and the volume intensified as he continued. “Now I learn she’s been tracing my every step like I’m some criminal she can’t trust, some animal she can’t just come to with her suspicions or concerns!”
“How would I come at you, Coleman?” Suzette shrieked at the top of her lungs, loud even for her. She finally took a step forward now, her right arm leading the way as she pointed vengefully toward her husband. “Just what is the right way to ask my man if he’s less than a man, Coleman? Huh? Should I have just brought a naked brother up in this house, seen how long it would take you to chase him around?”
Coleman took three steps, until he stood toe to toe with his wife. “Woman, you’re out of line!”
The thunderous quality of Coleman’s yell did what everyone had feared; in seconds the sound of little feet on the staircase filled the house. “Mommy, Daddy,” Coleman Jr. said, panting as he rounded the corner with little Joseph on his heels. “Wha-what’s wrong?”
Coleman nearly fell onto his backside, he pulled away from Suzette so quick. Clamping a hand to the side of his short Afro, he struggled to catch his breath. “Boys, go back upstairs. Make sure all this noise hasn’t woken your sister up.”
The boys backed away toward the stairs, but the looks in their eyes confirmed that at three and five they were old enough to know all was not right in their world. Thinking he was whispering, Joseph leaned over to his big brother as they backed out. “Mommy’s crying.”
Once they were back upstairs, Dionne cleared her throat. “They shouldn’t be here, not right now. Let me call my parents.” The Favors lived a few miles up the expressway from the Hills. “If they’re available, Zette and I can take the kids over there for the evening.”
When the women returned to the house forty-five minutes later, Coleman and I were still sitting in the family room, staring blankly at the DVD of the movie The Gospel he had thrown in to pass the time. To be honest, we weren’t sure how much more to say in prayer about the photos Angie had handed me, and Coleman had refused to respond to the images in them until Suzette returned. While he wanted company in this dark hour, he still wanted his wife to hear his confession the first time it fell from his mouth.
Both wives filed into the family room with their heads down and their faces ashen. Dionne practically fled to my side, leaning heavily into me as she burrowed in next to me on the Hills’ love seat. Suzette, for her part, left Coleman to himself on the large couch facing us, choosing instead to take a seat in front of the television set. Hugging her knees to her chest, she threw her head back with what felt like resignation. “Okay, Dionne convinced me that I should let you talk first, Coleman. You have the floor.”
Coleman gestured toward his wife. “You should be here at my side, Suzette,” he said, his voice just above a whisper.
“Why don’t I make that call,” she said, still unable to meet his gaze, “once you’ve said your piece?”
“So be it.” Coleman clasped his hands together and perched forward on the couch, peering across the room in a way that begged Suzette to acknowledge him. “Zette, you may not like what I’m about to say, but I hope you can respect it.” He inhaled deeply and shut his eyes before exhaling loudly, the words rushing out as if Coleman hoped to fling them as far from him as possible.
“I was born gay,” he said, eyes still shut, his hands now gripping at the edges of the cushions beneath him. “There’s no point dressing it up, nothing gained by excusing it or trying to explain it away. I wasn’t abused by anyone, I loved my father dearly, and I definitely never thought the idea of kissing another boy was cool. It was just something I always wanted to do, from the time I was around seven or eight, I guess, when my other friends were getting all bothered by the sight of little girls.” Coleman bit his lower lip and began to moan softly. “I think I was eight when my father first took up the issue of homosexuality in his sermons—no need to tell you it just confirmed my knowledge that my feelings were unnatural, unclean. You-all can’t imagine—well, maybe you can if you’ve ever struggled with a drug or alcohol addiction—the hellish path that set me on.
“Suzette,” he continued, waving a pleading arm in her direction, “you need to know, I fought these feelings I was born with from day one. I resisted all sexual activity throughout my teens, specifically to make sure I never crossed the line that really mattered. I was convinced that if I ever indulged my sexual urges, not only would God strike me down, He’d expose me to all the people I loved—my parents, my father’s congregation, my friends—and my life would be as good as over.”
Dionne furtively grabbed for my hand then, and I grasped her hand gratefully as I processed Coleman’s confessions. I had known plenty of gay people in my life—from the poorly closeted choir members, singers, and musicians I’d encountered in my family’s gospel industry circles to the comparatively proud producers, managers, and bodyguards I’d traveled with while touring the world. I knew that the Bible’s condemnation of homosexuality clashed with the very real fact that these people didn’t seem like they’d had a choice of sexual orientation. Truth told, I had gradually taken to ignoring the entire issue. It wasn’t that I didn’t care—it was that I didn’t know how to reconcile reality to the Holy Word to which I had surrendered my life.
Coleman told us about his college years, the period during which he had experienced a couple of trials—including his father’s death—that had left him open to Satan’s attack and led him to experiment with his long-repressed feelings. Adrian Wilkes had apparently been his guide on that journey of discovery.
“Maybe I lost my mind with my father’s death, with the feeling that I no longer had to stand up to the image of being his son,” Coleman was saying, his chin in his upturned hands. Suzette was still sitting in front of the TV, her eyes riveted on him, her mouth closed probably longer than it ever had been while she was awake. “I never ‘came out,’ or any of that nonsense, but I was reckless enough to bring Adrian home with me that summer and hang out all over DC with him in tow. We didn’t just hang in Dupont Circle—which is where we were in the photos Jesse got hold of—we went down to the harbor in Baltimore, to Georgetown, even to some wineries in Virginia.”
Suzette shook her head. “Oh, Coleman, how could you?”
His head swung up suddenly as if he were offended. “Zette, let’s remember that I hadn’t even met you at this time, okay?” He softened his tone as he continued. “I spent a lot of time with Adrian that summer, but by the time I returned to school in Tennessee that fall, I was fully convicted of my sin. God put an increasing burden on me, until one night I broke down in my dorm room and prayed for His forgiveness. I promised God that night that I would honor my father’s memory, and honor my Heavenly Father’s glory by living life according to the Scripture’s dictates.” He sniffed away a single tear and looked at Suzette. “By the time we met, baby, all that felt like the distant past.”
