Abnormal Lives (17 page)

Paris's father pounded his hand on the table again. “Stop gossiping about gay shit at my table. For God's sake, Berniece, don't encourage him. I know you want him to be your princess but, for crying out loud, he has a dick.”

Berniece sighed as her husband ranted. Paris looked at Glen and shook his head.
What a dumb ass
, Paris thought.

“I know you're not dumb enough to think he's not using that shit, too,” Glen said.

Before Berniece could answer, Paris decided to respond to his father's comment. “You just worry about how much crack you've smoked in your so-called joints.”

“So-called?” Paris's father said. “They were joints; I don't smoke nothing but reefer.”

“If you say so,” Paris said.

“Well, one thing's for sure, I've never had another man's dick in my mouth,” Glen said in disgust.

Paris couldn't take it anymore. His father had gone too far. Just because he'd helped conceive him didn't give him the right to disrespect him. “You've had the taste of dick in your mouth plenty of times and you seemed to enjoy it. Why else would you have Larry over every day so you could smoke with him?”

“You'd better watch your mouth,” Glen warned. “Larry's a real man. He'd never take part in no shit like that.”

“I have no objection to Larry being a real man,” Paris said. “He sure did fuck me like one.”

Berniece's eyes bulged.

“That's a lie and you know it,” Glen said.

“No, but that's what you'd like to think,” Paris replied. “Surely you're not dumb enough to think that he wanted me over his house every day so he could help me with my homework.”

“That's a damn lie!” Paris's father exclaimed as he grabbed his cane and prepared to stand up.

“You wish it was,” Paris said. “And I'll put something else in yo' ear; I remember plenty of times when he'd sucked my dick and then come right over here to smoke with you.”

Paris's father stood up and walked toward him. “You might've fantasized about that shit but Larry wasn't thinking about you. He had a fine woman. He wouldn't dare stick his dick in some man's big, hairy ass.”

Paris laughed. “Well, he did, and he loved it. That's why he went crazy. He realized that after he hooked up with that broad, he couldn't get no more of this.”

“Boy, you better watch your mouth before I bash you in it,” Glen said.

“You better go sit on yo' ass 'fore I knock you on it,” Paris replied.

“Wait; this is serious,” Berniece said. “I believe Paris. He was so young then. Your friend took advantage of him.”

“Took advantage of him, ha,” Paris's father said. “Larry probably went crazy because this boy worked a root on him.”

Paris smirked.
I'm gonna get his ass,
he thought. “You mean like I'm going do to you?”

“I don't believe in that crap,” Glen said.

“Well, that's good for you,” Paris said. “It's too bad your beliefs won't help you.” Paris took a handful of rice off of his plate, said something inarticulate as he waved his hand over the rice, spit on it, and then threw it on his father.

Paris's father stumbled backward. “I can't believe it! The bastard worked a root on me!” he screamed. “Make him take it off, Berniece! Make him take it off!”

Paris grabbed his purse and made his way to the door. His mother followed behind him.

“I wish you would at least try to get along with your father,” she said.

Paris kissed his mother on her cheek. “I've tried time and time again but nothing I do will ever please that man. He's a miserable creature and you dedicated your life to him; I didn't.”

Paris's mother nodded. “See you around. Don't be a stranger.”

But Paris planned to be a stranger. He promised himself that he wouldn't subject himself to his father's hatred. As long as his father was alive, he wouldn't step foot in that house again.

Berniece made her way out to the grocery store. “Are you sure you'll be okay until I get back?” she asked her husband.

“Yeah, Larry is supposed to stop by.”

Berniece shook her head and shut the door. She was disturbed.
After what Paris told us last night, why would he invite that man into our home?
she thought.

Glen wondered if what his son had said was true and, if so, why he hadn't realized it. He didn't want to believe that he had befriended a homo. He hated all gay people. He didn't care what they had accomplished during their lifetime, how enlightening their paintings were, how great they were as conquerors, or how well they ran their countries. Whatever contributions they made to society would always be overshadowed by their disgraceful lifestyles. He thought about Caesar and his legions.
I guess it's easy to be a great warrior when you go to bed with your boo and then wake up and fight beside him.
Their significant others weren't at home worrying about them and taking care of their hungry kids; no, they were beside them, keeping them in high spirits.

Glen remembered his father and his buddy, Vernon, whom he'd met while he was in the military. His father had told him that Vernon had saved his life many times and for that, he owed him his life.

Glen remembered walking in his parents' bedroom and seeing his father showing his gratitude to Vernon, on his hands and knees while Vernon straddled him. Glen quickly shut the door and ran to his room. He wondered had his eyes played a trick on him.

His father started bringing him candy home every day, taking him to the movies once a month, and giving him an allowance in an attempt to buy his silence. But Glen's conscience was getting the best of him. He realized that what he'd seen his father doing
was wrong. The only person his father should've been in bed with was his mother. He felt sick when Vernon came over to eat dinner with his family and all of them sat around the table, laughing and smiling as if they were good friends without any secrets. It had all been a lie.

One day, while they were eating dinner, his parents had discussed leaving him with Vernon while they went to the beach. Glen's mother asked him if he would be okay staying with Vernon for the weekend. Glen had trembled. He was scared Vernon would do to him what he'd witnessed him do to his father. “No, I want to go with you,” Glen said.

“We want to spend some time alone,” his mother said. “So you have to stay here.”

Glen began to cry. “But I don't want to stay with Vernon.”

“Why, what's wrong, honey?” his mother asked.

“I'm scared Vernon's going to do to me what he did to Daddy,” Glen said.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“I saw Vernon and Daddy in the bed together and Vernon was hurting him,” Glen said.

Glen's mother looked at his father. “What is Glen talking about?”

“I don't know,” Glen's father said. “He's delirious.” Glen's father reached over and touched Glen's forehead. “Maybe the boy's running a fever.”

Glen's mother put him to bed. Glen cried himself to sleep. He thought telling his mother would make him feel better and there would be no more secrets. But it didn't. His father's words carried more weight than his. What else could he do? He had no power. He was a child; a six-year-old boy.

Later that night, Glen's father crept into his room. Glen woke up with his father's hands around his neck.

“I'm not going to let you ruin my life, boy,” his father said. “What I do is none of your business. Keep your mouth shut about what I do,” his father said, squeezing his neck tighter. “Or I'll snap your fucking neck.”

Glen lived in fear for the next five years of his life. It wasn't until his father sat around slumped in his chair, looking like a brown, lesion-covered skeleton that Glen didn't fear him anymore. The same man that had saved his father's life had put it to an end.

Glen resented the fact that his mother had to take care of his father. He hated watching his mother cry day after day, anticipating his father's death. He couldn't understand how she nurtured and cried for such garbage.

Later, when his mother began to become sick, Glen was sent to live with his grandmother so he wouldn't have to watch his mother die from AIDS. He spent many nights wide awake, mourning the loss of his mother and worrying that the disease would spread through his family like locusts and kill everyone that he loved. It was his father's doing. Their protector had put them all in danger. Glen wanted to piss on his grave.

The day his wife, Berniece, gave birth to his Paul, Glen was happy. He wanted to do right by his family. He didn't want to be the deceitful bastard that his father had been.

As time went on and Paul started to grow into his looks, Glen was repulsed by how much he resembled his father. He swore Paul was his father's reincarnation and had come back to haunt him but he wasn't going to let him. He had the upper hand this time and he wouldn't let him destroy what he had worked so hard for; stability. He would mold him to be a better man this time around. He would do it by displaying the hatred he had toward him, hoping it would make him want to change his character
so he could be someone a father could love and, if that didn't work, to hell with him.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break Paul. Paul did what he wanted and lived how he wanted.

Glen opened the door for Larry.

“What's happening, man?” Larry asked. “How you been getting along?”

“Not good since I found out you were going behind my back and fucking my son.” Glen balanced himself long enough to poke Larry in his chest with his cane. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Larry wanted to tell Glen that he was insane for even thinking he would do such a thing. But Glen was set in his ways and when he believed something, there was no changing his mind. Besides, Glen had seen through every lie that he had told him during the thirty-five years they had known each other.

Larry decided to come clean. “There's nothing I can say. It just happened.”

“How did you just happen to fuck my son?” Glen asked.

“We both were vulnerable,” Larry said. “You never spent any time with the boy. He didn't have any friends. He was lonely and so was I.”

“That's no excuse,” Glen said. “I was your friend when no one else was. I got you a job when you were down on your luck and you repay me by fucking my teenage son.”

“I repented for what I did,” Larry said. “I put it behind me. It's the past. Let's leave it there.”

Glen swung at Larry with his cane and Larry blocked the blow with his hand.

Glen huffed. “God may have forgiven you for it, but I never will. You're dead to me.”

“You're blowing this out of proportion,” Larry said.

“Get off my damn property,” Glen said before shutting the door.

Larry walked away, trying not to display how hurt he was. Just when everything in his life was finally starting to get better, his past had popped back up to dismantle it.

15