Black Sheep, Chapter 1

 

I hadn't talked to my brother in 6 years.  I hadn't seen him in 14.   I rolled out of my bed turning over to the side as I tried to gather my thoughts long enough to pick up the phone.  I had barely picked it up before I heard his voice on the other line.  It wasn't hard to tell who it was.  He sounded exactly like me.

 

 

"I'm sorry."

 

 

I didn't get it, "Man, don't call me at 2 am."

 

 

 

That was what I said.  I told him not to call me at 2am.  I meant it too.  I meant it with all my heart.  I didn't want this man calling me at 2am regardless of the fact that he was my brother or not.  I just didn't care what he had to say.  At 2 am it didn't matter.

 

 

 

I turn to my side.  The man of my dreams is there.  He is the future.  He is the one I am going to spend the rest of my life.  I have everything up planned perfectly.

 

 

 

"Who was that?" Juan asks me.

 

 

 

"No one."

 

 

He laughs, "You cheating on me?"

 

 

 

Juan is perfect.  I'm talking about 6'2" with white teeth, dark skin and the body of a titan.  Not only was he fine as fuck but he was smart.  The man had the first job working at a popular law firm downtown.  He drove a Tesla with suicide doors.  He always smelled like straight up Creed cologne or some other expensive ass shit that you probably can't find at your local Macys.  I fell in love.  I fell in love hard.

 

 

 

"It's no one."

 

 

He bites his lip, "Prove it."

 

 

 

I climb on top of him.  I'm not a top but I'm not a bottom anymore.  Juan says that he is a bottom so I stick my dick in him.  I thrust a few times.  He always has a nice tight ass.  I get deep and I feel him moan as he holds onto the bed.  He keeps grabbing onto my sheets ripping them off as I get up in that tight ass of his.  He moans begging me to fuck him harder.

 

 

 

"Go deeper.  Yeah, baby. Go deeper..."

 

 

 

I'm fucking him.  I'm pulling my dick all the way out and going all the way back in.  I want to punish him.  I want him to feel every part of me.  He squirms underneath me just the way I like it.  In and out in and out.  I feel myself tighten.

 

 

 

"Damn it feels good...baby, what are you doing?"

 

 

 

 

 

I get out a bottle of strawberry syrup from the side of my bed.  I take the top off.  Once he sees the strawberry syrup fine ass Juan looks at me and I can tell that he's excited.  He bites down on his lip.  He swallows.  As I fuck him I pour the syrup all over his chest.

 

 

 

"You like it?"

 

"Hell yeah.  Damn baby...you pouring so much."

 

I keep pouring.  Every last drop.

 

 

 

"Don't worry I'll lick it off," I promise him.

 

 

 

When it gets to the bottom the syrup starts getting stuck.

 

 

 

"Damn Joshua..." he notices.

 

 

 

"Can you unclog it for me?"

 

 

 

He nods, "Oh no doubt bae."

 

 

 

He grabs the bottle of syrup out of my hand.  He digs in it.  Just as he digs in it he pulls at something.  Something is stuck.  He keeps pulling and then realizes what it is.  He pulls out a ring.

 

 

 

His eyes get wide.  I can see how shocked Juan is...

 

 

 

"I want you to marry me."

 

 

We've dated for 3 years.  3 long years.  He was the person for me.  There was no one else.  When you think you've found love, you realize that there is no reason to keep looking.  I was ready to settle down with him.  I was ready to live this life that boys like me didn't dream about living back home.  I was ready to be someone.  Anyone.  It didn't even fucking matter.

 

 

 

 

 

What he says next breaks my hard.

 

 

 

"Naw."

 

 

 

I'm such an idiot that I look at his face and realize that he doesn't even give me an explanation.  He doesn't even care to.  He just says Naw.  It's just like I asked him if he was hungry or if he wanted a refill of his soda.  He was talking to me like I was the help at this moment and I didn't get it.

 

 

 

"Naw?"

 

 

"I don't want to get married," he responds, "I like what we got going on."

 

 

"We've been together for 3 years."

 

 

 

"Yo---to keep it 100 with you.  I look at you as a homie.  You know.  A real good fuck buddy?  You got good dick.  Besides.  I couldn't marry you.  I'm already married."

 

 

 

"Wh---what..."

 

 

 

"Your phone is ringing."

 

 

 

"Fuck my phone!"  I state.

 

 

 

I'm tripping.  Tears are rolling down my eyes.   The man I was going to spend the rest of my life just said I was married and he was worried about my phone.

 

 

 

"I'll go shower and get this shit off..." he says, "I'll be back and I promise we can talk about it."

 

 

 

He walks away at that moment.  I pick up my phone.  It's my stupid fucking brother again.  He had a new number every time he fucking called.  6 years ago I asked him never to call me again.  He was broke as shit and probably couldn't ever keep a decent job.  Yet somehow he was the one my family loved the most. So here I am having to pick up the phone.  I had no doubt he was probably asking for some money or something.  Who knows?

 

 

 

I don't even let him talk when I pick up the phone.

 

 

 

"Jamison.  What the hell do you want?"

 

 

As I ask my brother Jamison what he needs I head to the bathroom to find Juan.  I realize that  he's not in the bathroom.  He's not in the living room.

 

He's not in the driveway.

 

 

Juan was gone.  Just like that.  He was out of my life.  Just like that.  I don't even have the time to mourn.  I don't even have the time to react to him.  I fall to the ground when all of a sudden I realize that my brother is still on the fucking phone.

 

It's almost like the universe was telling me to go fuck myself whe Jamison open his mouth again.

 

 

"I'm getting married..."

 

~

 

That happened at the beginning of the year.  My brother Jamison always had to find a way to upstage me.  He always had to find a way to steal my thunder.  Even in a whole different city, he was still finding a way to make me know that he was the one who got loved.  He got all the love and I got none.  Ever.  I'm back to being single and Jamison gets all the love.  I hated him.  I hated my brother Jamison.

 

There is a knock on the door at that moment.

 

"Sir..."

 

 

Marcella knocks on my door.

 

"Come in?"

 

 

"You sent Brian the wedding dress?" I ask.

 

Marcella nods, "Yes.  Are you sure you want to do this sir?"

 

 

 

The look in my assistant's eyes is real.  I can see a hesitance in her eyes.  If I knew what I know now I would never agree to something like this.  The problem is I don't know what I know now.

 

 

"I'm sure.  Send the wedding dress to Brian and bring my car around.  The plane is going to leave.  It's time for my brother's wedding..."

 

 

~

 

 

It takes hours to South Central, Los Angeles.  Home.  When we arrive Marcella rents a car.  I can tell this is weird for her even though she travels with me everywhere.  This was different.  We stay at a hotel at the LAX.  I know immediately though that I have to go back home.  I have to face my family.

 

When I get back in the car to head back home I can see Marcella looking at me.

 

 

"So this where you from?"

 

 

I look around, "Yeah.  Never would have thought huh?"

 

 

The area hadn't changed much from what I could see.  The run down houses and the kids running barefoot in the street.  I still recall the disturbances that broke out in South-Central Los Angeles on April 29, 1992.  I was only a kid.  Now I am 30.  The deep and long-standing crisis of the inner city never changed.  Few people made it out of this area but I had and I didn't plan on staying for long.

 

"How long have you been away sir?" Marcella asks me.

 

"14 years," I respond.

 

"Why so long? What happened?" Marcella asks.

 

At times Marcella forgets she works for me.  Maybe it's because in my contractor position it is usually just her and me.  We've gotten close.  Usually, I have no problem having personal conversations with her.  This is different, though.  This was family.  Even the idea of thinking about the past gets through to me.   I am hurt even now from it.

 

"It was just another life.  It's just another person.  I came for my brother's wedding.  After that, I'm leaving and this time I'm never coming back."

 

I pull up to Big Mama's house.  The grandmother has the biggest house on the block.  The kids call it the mansion.  It looks like one to be honest.  A huge grand colonial style house built in Hyde Park next to run down places.  I get to the front of the house and I try the doorbell but it doesn't work.  I knock a few times as hard as I can.

 

"This place is huge..."

 

 

It felt out of place.

 

"My grandmother owned a club back in the day.   It was called the Marchioness.  In the 70s it was the place to be.  I guess they made some money from it.  It was a family owned business.  The Wallace family could have taken that money and invested.  My grandmother could have gotten a house in the hills.  Instead, she built this...in the middle of the ghetto."

 

 

I shake my head.  There was no way Big Mama would ever leave this neighborhood.  I knock on the door a few more times.  Big Mama was hard of hearing.

 

Sure enough, though she comes to the door and gives me her denture filled smile filled with the warmth of home only a grandmother can give..

 

"Josa!"

 

 

Big Mama grabs me.  My name is Joshua but her deep southern drawl causes her to merge the words together.   She pulls at my sleeve and pulls me close.  I haven't felt a grab like this in quite some time.  I almost want to cry but I don't.  I just inhale, taking in the scent of freshly cooked meal that she is probably preparing for my arrival now.  It reminds me of old times.  Times weren't always bad in the Wallace household but when they were bad...they were really bad.

 

"Hey Big Mama," I state.

 

"Is that my baby?"

 

 

I turn to see Ma standing there.  She has her usual nightgown on, paisley printed silk with colorful flowers.  She's very pretty.  My oldest brother Joyous looks the most like her.  Sometimes I would get jealous that he inherited her light olive skin, gray eyes, full lips, and height.  I was dark, and stood at only 6'0".  Back then I wasn't seen as attractive.  It took a long time for me to grow into my skin tone and my looks.  Joyous and my moter always had it.  My mother was the same height at me and my brother Joyous was the tallest in the family at 6'5".  Everyone in the neighborhood said Ma was a thing to look at back in the day.  She was a trophy wife.   She comes over and gives me a kiss before turning to Marcella.

 

"He got so big, didn't he?" Big Mama asks in her deep accent, "You gonna innerduce us to ya friend here baybe?"

 

"Is she your..." Ma starts.

 

I shut her down, "No.  I'm still gay Ma."

 

 

The look on her face gets cold.  Real cold.

 

"Oh..."

 

 

"Where's dad?"

 

 

Ma shakes her head.  I know what that means.  My mother never had a backbone.  She never really got involved in things.  As soon as the screaming started she would get real quiet and lose her fucking voice.  Mute Mama. That's what we call her.  I knew what she was trying to hide, though.  He left the house because I was coming over.  My dad didn't want to see me.  I doubt she had any fucking thing to say to him.  She never did.  I was sure about it.

 

"Couldn't stick around to see the face of his faggot son?"

 

 

"You best not open your mouth to cuss in my house boy," Big Mama says.

 

Those were his words, not mine.  Still, I wasn't going to disrespect Big Mama and her house.  I press her hand up against my face the way I used to do when I was a kid.

 

"I'm sorry Grandma," I state.

 

"Come eat, baby.  Jamison and his fiancée are on their way."

 

 

We get to the table.  We aren't allowed to eat without Jamison getting there.  There is no mention of my other siblings.  Usually, there isn't.   Ma sits there mute as ever being the perfect trophy wife.  I know what she wants to say when she sees Marcella and I sit.  She's thinking that if only Marcella really was my girlfriend things would be better with the family.

 

Jamison arrives at the house 40 minutes later.  His fiancée is with him.  I watch as he walks over to me.  Jamison and I have always looked the most alike.  We looks like my dad.  We both have the same complexion.  We both have really long eyelashes that everyone swears are somehow fake.  He always thought we are both handsome.  I had to learn to like myself.  Of course. neither of us are as handsome as Joyous in my opinion but we were never called ugly by any means.

 

He doesn't hug me when he sees me.  He doesn't even smile.  He just stares at me from the door.  He still looks the same.  We used to pass for twins all the time back in the day but we really weren't.  I was older by a year.  Jamison was the baby in the family.  He was the youngest and he never made us forget it.

 

"You...made it," he said.

 

"You invited me," I respond.

 

"I didn't think you'd actually come."

 

 

I figured that.  My brother Jamison was just pulling one of his Jamison moves.  I had no doubt Big Mama had begged him to invite me.  She was the only one who probably fucking noticed whether I was here or not in the first place.

 

It gets awkward when we sit at the table.  The only person who is talking is his fiancée.  She introduces herself as Shantelle.  Shantelle clearly comes from money.  I have no doubt it's the only reason that Jamison is marrying her.  She isn't pretty and the moment she opens her mouth I can tell that she is more than just a little annoying.  Marcella turns to me and gives me a look.  It's one of those looks that tells me that she isn't really used to this and would be expecting a bonus by the end of the year.

 

"So what do you do Joshua?" Shantelle asks, "I just found out that Jamison had another brother besides Joyous like a few months ago."

 

 

It was almost like I was dead.  I stare at Jamison.  He buries his head in his food.  He didn't think I was going to come and now that I'm here he doesn't want me here.  It is very obvious.

 

"I am a corporate risk-management consultant," I explain to her.

 

"What's that mean?" she asks.

 

Great.  She was ugly and a dummy too.

 

"Companies contract us  to come in and access their risks," Marcella interrupts, "It's exactly how it sounds."

 

 

 

Shantelle smiles, "Jamison is thinking about reopening the Marchioness.  You seem like you know what you're doing...why don't you help out--"

 

"And this is your partner?" Jamison's fiancée asks me.

 

"My employee," I respond.

 

"Wow," Shantelle states looking at her brother, "Your brother has an assistant.  That must be nice.  Seems like he's done pretty good for himself."

 

 

Hearing her say that in front of my family has to be one of the best moments of my life.  My mother ignores her and stares at his food.  My brother looks highly annoyed.  My grandmother smiles at that moment.

 

"Thank you for noticing," I state out of nowhere, "Don't get much of that here."

 

 

"You want someone to pat you on the back?"

 

 

"I was kicked out at the age of 16.  I was disowned by my entire family for being gay.  I was homeless for a year and a half.  On my fucking own I pulled myself from the bootstraps.  I built my life.  So yeah.  I would like a fucking pat on the back," I state.

 

Jamison twists his eyebrows, "Sorry to tell you but it's not going to happen.   Why are you really fucking here?  You've never been happy for me before."

 

"You invited me dumbass."

 

 

"Babies," Big Mama tries to break it up.  Mama doesn't though.  She just takes her bottle of wine gets up off the table and leaves.

 

"And you should have stayed away, Joshua.  You have been gone for 14 years.  No one is impressed with your consultant job and your traveling assistant.  You chose your lifestyle over the family and you upset Pops every single day.  You don't get to come back and fill in the blanks."

 

 

"Yo, what the fuck?  I was disowned!"

 

 

"No one forced those dicks in your mouth!"

 

 

I get up at that moment.  I have a drink in my hand.  I am about to throw it all over Jamison but I stop abruptly.  Just at that moment, I realize someone else has entered the room.  It's my other brother Joyous.  Joyous is standing there dressed in all black.

 

"Damn...this arguing shit started already?" Joyous asks.

 

He must be used to it.  14 years and nothing much has changed.  I get up off the table.

 

 

"Thank you for the food, Big Mama," I state, "Marcella pull around the car."

 

 

 

Marcella leaves to get the car.

 

My brother Joyous tries to stop me as I'm walking out, "Bro...you just got here."

 

 

Joyous acting like he cared didn't matter.  He was right with the rest of them 14 years ago when my father disowned me.  Sure I had a better relationship with him than I did Jamison.  That wasn't saying a lot, though.  Jamison and I hated one another.  I just strongly disliked Joyous.

 

I'm good bro.

 

 

As I walk out I see a guy.  He doesn't look familiar.  He looks like some sort of gang type guy.  Matter of fact there is a bunch of these guys that are waiting outside.  I have no doubt they run with Joyous.  Joyous had always been a huge gang member since the age of 14.  The boy looks familiar.  He does the weirdest thing when I walk outside.

 

He walks up to me and grabs my wrist.

 

"Joshua?" he asks.

 

"Do I know you?" I ask him.

 

"You don't remember me."

 

 

I look back at the house.  My two brothers have come to the door. They are staring at the door.

 

"I didn't come here to remember anyone," I say and shake the stranger's hand off of me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

~

 

 

The next day is the wedding.  I arrive with Marcella.  I'm sitting alone away from the family.  We are still waiting for the procession to start.

 

"Is that your sister?" Marcella asks.

 

I shake my head.  She's pointing at a cousin of mine named Sheila.  The last time I heard from Sheila she had found a gay profile I had online and shared it with the entire family.  Sheila wasn't exactly my favorite person, to tell the truth but she is sitting next to Big Mama right now with the rest of the family.

 

"My sister isn't the most...stable person," I explain, "She had an alchohol problem.  I'd be very surprised if she shows up to this on time.  I'm sure she'll be at the reception, though.  There's liquor involved there."

 

 

"I'm sorry to hear that."

 

 

Marcella puts her hands on me.  Sometimes I shut down.  It's just my personality now.  When people have fucked you over all your life you become...spiteful.  I have all this bitterness inside of me.  I have all this anger.  I shrug her off me.

 

"Over there is my Uncle Regis.  He is a deacon at my father's church.  Then there is my cousin Lionel and his wife Becky.  When I was kicked out I tried to live with them but they said no.  Then there is Joyous...my brother."

 

 

 

Joyous is off to the side.

 

 

"Your brother is..."

 

 

"Ghetto."

 

 

She corrects me, "Fine..."

 

 

I roll my eyes.  Girls loved the bad boy thing.  My brother and his friends roll into the wedding like they own the place.  I can see Marcella isn't the only girl in the building who all of a sudden finds an urge to cross her legs and fan herself.

 

"I'll be back."

 

 

Just at that moment, I see my brother Joyous.  He's just entered.  He isn't in a suit or anything like that.  I think that would be too much to ask a guy like Joyous.  Exactly what kind of guy was Joyous?  He was the worst kind.  He was a thug since the day he came out his momma's womb.  They used to joke about the fact that he only played with toy guns as an infant.

 

As soon as I get close Joyous grabs me.  He pulls me close and buries my head in his chest.  In normal families, you would take this as love but with Joyous it was different.  He was "son'ing" me.   That's what they call it in the streets.  He was trying to prove he was the bigger guy.  I couldn't possibly look Joyous directly in his eyes.   I had to be buried in his chest like a fucking child.

 

Joyous always felt like he had to be in control.  He always dominated.

 

"You feeling better after yesterday little bro?"  he asks.

 

"I'm fine."

 

 

"Man it's good to see you.  How you been man?  I guess you did that college shit and all that right?" he asks.

 

"Yeah Joyous.  I "did" the college shit."

 

 

Joyous nods as though the idea of college is the most boring in the world to him but it's probably the only thing he knows about me anymore.  That and the fact that I'm a faggot.  The man shows up at his brother's wedding in sweats, a jeans jacket and an MCM bookbag that smells like weed.  He was tatted even when I was a teenager but he's gone further than I can remember now.  Tattoos align his face and his neck.  They stretch out all the way to his hands.  Every part of him is covered in the shit.

 

"That is what's up," he tells me nodding a few times, "That's what's up."

 

 

"Yeah."

 

 

There is an awkward silence.

 

"So why you here Lil' nigga?"

 

 

I hate when he calls me a nigga.  The word coming out of his mouth just annoys me more than anything.  He pats me on my back.  Joyous has always been very touchy...feely with me.  I take a step away from him leaving just enough space.

 

"It's my brother's wedding."

 

 

"Joshua I know you, man.  You always had to get the last word.  Why are you here bro?" Joyous asks me.

 

He has this look on his face.   He's suspicious of me.

 

I cut the conversation short before he starts getting too comfortable.

 

"If I don't get to see you after the wedding.  Have a good one bro," I tell Joyous.

 

 

I turn to leave.  As I walk back I see my father.  He sees me.

 

"Hey Dad," I state.

 

My father ignores me.  He acts like he doesn't see me.  He acts like I don't exist.  The great Pastor can't even look at his faggot son.

 

I head back to my seat and realize just when I get to my seat someone slides into the seat with me.  I turn and realize that it's one of Joyous's boys.  It's the same dude that had spoken to me earlier.  He looks at me.  He sits only inches away from me.  He smells like weed.

 

"You really don't recognize me?" he asks.

 

I turn to see if he's talking to me or Marcella.  Marcella is on her phone though ignoring the conversation.  He's definitely talking to me.

 

"No.  I don't.  Should I?"

 

 

The guy is a thug.  Anyone that runs with Joyous is probably trouble.  He looks at me with the most strangely familiar eyes but I would recognize this guy.  I turn back to his homeboys.  They are wondering what he is doing over here with me.   He doesn't care though.  He is a pretty boy but still a thug somehow.  His skin is the color of caramel.  He has long dreadlocks that are spiraled and curly.  They fall halfway down his back and shape his face.  His lips are pink.  His eyes are brown and seem to go deeper than the ocean.  When he stares at me I think of one thing.

 

Cinnamon buns.

 

It's an odd smell that fills my nose.  It feels warm.  It feels like home.

 

Marcella clears her throat a few times.  I know what she is thinking.  She's done it before.  She calls me stuck up when handsome guys try to have a conversation with me.  Sure, this boy was FINE.  Besides his drop dead gorgeous face his body shows through even through his leather jacket.  He has this slim waist like he is trim.  He isn't really muscular.  He's covered in tattoos and his body looks like some sexy ass rapper that never wears a shirt.  I never talk to regular guys.  If you weren't a doctor or a lawyer I normally didn't want you.

 

After living out on the streets for as long as I did, security meant the world.

 

 

"You know me," he says.

 

"Listen.  I don't smoke drugs or..."

 

 

"You think I'm here to sell you drugs man?" he asks.

 

"I just assumed because Joyous..."

 

 

"I'm not here to sell you drugs Skinny."

 

 

Skinny.

 

My mouth drops when I see those eyes all of a sudden and hear how he flicks his thick upper lip to call me skinny.  All of a sudden I remember who it is.  Looking at him I can't believe it.

 

"Fatty?" I ask.

 

He bites on his lip.  I'm shocked.

 

"Yo come here, man!"

 

 

He grabs me and holds me for a second.  Men in my hood don't hug unless you were really close to someone.  You can tell when it's love if there isa hug.  For that quick second, I realize that this was my best friend from back in the day.

 

Keon "Fatty" DeAndre was actually my only friend growing up.  He played football when my brother Jamison played.  He was always heavy set though so he still wasn't really all that popular.

 

 

Looking at him now it's clear he lost the weight.

 

"You ain't fat no more," I laugh, "Dam..."

 

 

I stare at him for a minute.  He used to be at least 350 pounds.  It was almost like a whole different person but somehow I can still see the warmth in Keon's eyes.  This is the first real hug that I've gotten since my grandmother.  Without words, I can just tell that he remembers all the good times we had.  He was my fucking best friend ever and I was blown away by it.

 

The wedding was starting.  I expect Keon to get up and leave but he doesn't, even when Jamison marches down the aisle to wait for his bride.

 

"Your brother told me you were headed back in town.  I didn't believe it.  I heard you made it big...but I wasn't expecting all this," he says, "What is that suit?  Gucci?"

 

 

"Tom Ford."

 

 

He smiles wider at that moment, "You taller too."

 

 

 

"Can't mess around with me about my size no more especially now that you just as skinny as me," I state, "Your nose still big as hell though."

 

He did have a big nose, but it fit him.  It made him even sexier though knowing he wasn't some perfect man.  His long nose as a sexy hook to it. I can't stop staring at it.

 

He laughs, "Now I might have lost the weight but I can still beat your ass, Skinny.  Don't play with me."

 

With that he gives me a playful jab to my side and I almost forget where I am and who I am.  I start honestly play boxing with him in the chair.  Marcella is looking at me like I've completely lost my mind or been possessed by some stranger.

 

The lady in front of us turns and gives us a long hard, "SHHH..."

 

We both laugh at that moment.  Things used to be like this between me and Fatty.  All the time.  My brothers were jealous of the amount of time we spent together.

 

Things get so quiet at that moment.  He must be thinking about the past like I am.

 

"About what happened..." he whispers to me, "Between me and you."

 

 

I remember the incident that happened when we were young.

 

"It's OK..."

 

 

"No, it's not.  I never got to apologize," he says.

 

"I don't want apologies," I state, "But don't worry.  I'll let you live today."

 

I don't mean it as a joke.  I'm upset.

 

"What are you talking about?" he asks me.

 

"You know what they did to me..."

 

 

"You're still mad aren't you?" Keon asks.

 

The situation I had with Keon was different from the situation I had with the rest of my family.  I had issues with everyone in my life from that point of my life.  Once people found out I was gay everyone turned on me in unison.

 

"See that man up there..."

 

 

Keon looks at me weird, "Pastor Wallace.  Joshua why are you looking like that man?"

 

 

"That man told me I was no son of his.  I hadn't done anything wrong.  I had gone to school.  I made good grades.  I was well behaved.  I had no addictions.  But because I was gay...he disowned me.  He said he would never speak to me again.  And he meant it.  14 years later I don't know who he is.  But he would do anything for Jamison.  See...Joyous is too gangster.  Jamila is too drunk.  And me...I'm too gay.  My dad told my brothers to beat my ass when he kicked me out.  They beat my ass and left me butt naked on Skid row with not a penny to my name.  But I'm sure you've heard, haven't you Keon?"

 

 

Keon gets quiet.  He's heard. He looks away.  Gangsters don't show emotion.  Keon is clearly one of those now.  So he just acts like what I say doesn't effect him.  He was close to my family.  He knew what they had done to me.

 

Everyone's heard.

 

"Man family is...tough.  You can start over, though," he tells me, "Let bygones be bygones."

 

 

"I'm not here for that?"

 

 

"Why are you here?"

 

 

Just at that moment, Shantelle comes out.  The girl looks beautiful.  Everyone turns but me.  I'm looking at my dad's face.  He is the best man next to his favorite son Jamison.  The emotion in his eyes is real.  Pastor Wallace finally had the son who was worth his time after all these years.  He had the son who was going to have that perfect Christian family household.

 

Shantelle makes it halfway down the aisle.  She and Jamison look at one another.  Love is in the air.  My whole family is crying tears of joy.  Jamila and Joyous were fuckups.  Joshua was a disgrace.

 

But not Jamison.

 

Right?

 

 

"HOLD THE FUCK UP!"  someone screams.

 

The person is in the back running up behind Shantelle wearing a wedding dress.  The dress is nice.  It's almost as nice as Shantelle's.

 

I turn to my assistant and smile at her, "Good pick in dress."

 

 

Marcella smiles, "I had to get the best for you boss."

 

 

Just at that moment it the person runs down the aisle takes off the veil and reveals the truth of it all.

 

"What the FUCK is going on here?" my dad says.

 

It's so Unchristian like for him to curse like that.  People are screaming so loud no one notices though.  Everyone is getting up in arms.  Then something else happens.  It's revealed at that moment exactly who is behind the veil.

 

"Brian?" Jamison asks, "What are you doing here?"

 

Brian...a man, by the way, is standing in his dress.  He walks up to Jamison and grabs Shantelle's bouquet of flowers straight out her hands.

 

"Baby.  I want you, back. I love you baby."

 

 

It was hard to get in contact with Brian but I did it.  Just for the moment to see my dad's eyes go blood shot red.  I wanted to see my mother actually say more than two words.  She can't stop talking now.  She can't stop reacting.  They just found out their perfect son was actually gay.

 

 

What I didn't want however was Big Mama to be so shocked by this man breaking up Jamison's wedding that she falls over.

 

And dies.

 

To read the next chapter in advance go to www.crushedcrown.com