Any Way the Wind Blows - E. Lynn Harris [97]
“So what do you think I should do?”
“Move on. Forget about Bart and concentrate on the people who love you. Like your Pops. Reconnect with friends who would love you no matter what. People who will love the whole you. People like me,” Raymond said.
“What if my Pops rejects me?”
“He won’t.”
I thought about the pain in my Pops’ voice when he had asked me if I was a homosexual. I thought how saying yes would have been like driving a stake through his heart. I know that. Raymond could believe in that “love will save the day” shit all he wanted to, but my life wasn’t his. I was getting ready to tell him that when he started to speak again.
“You know, a couple of years ago my Pops had a stroke and we almost lost him. And the only thing I could think about was the last thing I had said to him. Was it something loving or was it something out of anger? Was it the truth or was it a lie? Now, your Pops could outlive the both of us, but that’s not promised. Do you want that lie about your life hanging out there, unprotected from people like Bart? A lie that can be used to make you act in hate and not love? Let it go, Basil. Let it go!”
I suddenly felt the full weight of my sadness, all the years of never feeling anyone could love me if they knew everything about me. They could never love the whole me. How could I ever release those feelings? I looked at Raymond and the loving concern in his eyes. I felt tears come, and it startled me. I had not cried since I was a little boy. I didn’t cry at happy times in my life, like winning big football games, and I would never cry if we lost. Tears were a sign of weakness, I had always thought. I tried to blink back the tears with every fiber within me. I couldn’t let Raymond see me cry, and so I looked down for a few moments at the towel I was wearing. Then I heard Raymond repeat himself: “Let it go. True love can only begin with truth.”
And the tears I had tried to stop turned into uncontrollable sobs and Raymond moved quickly to embrace my naked shoulders. I couldn’t look at him, but I let him hold me as sobs racked my body like an earthquake. These tears felt cleansing, and I felt so intimate with Raymond, so secure in his strong, solid arms, and I wondered if this was what it felt like to make love with someone you knew loved you.
There’s No Place Like Home
After almost two weeks in South Beach I had learned-one thing. Today, yesterday and tomorrow had a couple of things in common: torrential rain and brilliant sunshine. And both were driving me nuts.
I did like a couple of things about South Beach. Like New York City, it was a city that never slept. I loved the calmness of the beach early in the morning and late at night. I had spent a great deal of time thinking over the last several days. Opening up to Yancey had brought back so many memories I thought I’d tucked safely away. I wondered about my parents and what kind of people they were. Were they sorry for what they’d done? Leaving me and my sister in the arms of a system that didn’t have time to care? Or was I just a wild plant from a family that only produced bad seeds? Why hadn’t my parents gone on welfare instead of robbing a bank and committing murder? Was I, their son, capable of killing another human being? There were so many times when I felt pure hatred for the men I fell for, as well as the women who welcomed them back into their beds.
I wondered if my sister, Amanda, had grown up in a family of people who loved her, and if she now had love in her life. Maybe she was some big superstar who had changed her name to Nia, Aaliyah or Brandy. Had her new mother educated her about the ways of the world so she didn’t fall in love with men like Brandon and Basil?
I thought about the woman who had been like a mother to me and wondered if she was still alive and if she could ever forgive me. Her name was Hattie Kaufman, and I had spent five years with her, from age thirteen until I left for Morris Brown. Hattie was a wonderful lady with a big heart. She had over nine foster children, and