So You Call Yourself a Man (23 page)

One year later—Brent

The phone rang just as I was changing my son B.J.'s diaper. Being in a wheelchair, I knew I couldn't get his Pamper on and still answer the phone in time. I let it ring and continued to tend to my son's needs. The answering machine would get it, and I'd return the call later. Besides it was probably just Alison, checking up on us for the fourth time today.

Alison gave birth to our beautiful baby boy about three months ago. We named him Brent Jr., B.J. for short, and he was the true love of my life. B.J. made waking up each morning worthwhile, even if it was only to lift my useless legs and struggle into a wheelchair. Though I had regained the use of my upper body, nothing below my waist would ever be the same. The doctors predicted I would never walk again, and I could take Viagra all day long and it wouldn't cure my permanent impotence. My life as I had known it was over. So now I lived my life for my son.

I was still married to Alison, but she had become my caretaker in many ways. True to her word, she stuck by me through three surgeries and countless hours of rehabilitation. She was the rock of our family, working two jobs to support me and B.J. I hoped someday to be able to go back to work and provide for my family, but for the time being I was still too emotionally distraught about everything that had happened. Alison never complained about anything. She told me countless times that the only thing that was important to her was that we were still together as a family. Now that B.J. was born I totally understood what she was trying to say.

Jackie was no longer a threat to the stability of our marriage and our family. Once he figured out that the sexual part of our relationship would never again be possible, he returned home to his wife and children, and remained in the closet. His vow to reveal his sexuality to the church never came to pass, and Trustee Moss was more than happy to help him keep that secret.

On Sundays, when I saw Jackie in church, though, I knew he was still up to his old tricks. It burned me up every time I saw him at services flirting with a new young man, especially since he wouldn't say more than five words to me at any given time. I thought our love was more than that. Hell, I was still the same man inside, even if I couldn't get it up anymore. His latest “friend” was Deacon Ferguson's son, Todd. They didn't think anyone knew, but it was obvious to me every time Jackie changed lovers. I guess it's just something another gay man can spot.

Yes, I am still a gay man. Just because my equipment is malfunctioning doesn't mean the desires aren't still there. I still loved Jackie more than anything in the world. I missed the times we spent together, and sometimes while I watched him play the organ, my mind got filled with images of the day he wore nothing under his choir robe. Once, Alison caught me staring so hard during service that she turned my wheelchair around so my back was to the choir. I tried to turn the chair around again, and she whispered that if I even thought about it, she'd leave me home alone the following Sunday. Like I said before, my life was no longer under my control.

That was why I was grateful for the fact that I was at least able to care for my son's basic needs. I finished changing his diaper and placed him in his crib, then wheeled myself to the telephone to check the answering machine. I pressed
PLAY
and smiled when I heard James's voice.

James and Cathy had just come home from a much-needed vacation with the boys. They had a long way to go to repairing their marriage, but whenever I talked to him, James seemed hopeful. He and Cathy were seeing a therapist to work out their issues. Each of them was coming to terms with the other's affair, and Cathy had been able to accept Marcus as a new addition to their family.

James was also spending time one-on-one with a therapist to help him deal with the horrible fact that he had killed his best friend. Rationally, he knew that his actions saved Tiffany's life and spared her children from growing up without their mother. Even Jessica had called when she heard the news, thanking James for his bravery. But while others praised him as a hero, he was torn up inside, still wondering if maybe he could have talked Sonny into dropping his gun that day. He was making strides in his therapy, but I don't think even I could fully understand what it must have been like having to make the decision he did that day. James was a strong man, and all three of his sons would grow up to be better people because they had him as a role model.

Marcus was getting along well with the other boys, and James had him in counseling as well to help him work through any feelings he had about his mother's abandonment. Michelle still had not contacted them to check on her son, but for the time being, it was probably better that James and Cathy could work on their marriage without Michelle complicating things. Maybe some time in the future she would try to make amends with her son, but for now, James was just happy to be headed back toward a normal, drama-free family life.

I was looking forward to hearing all about their trip and was sorry I had missed his call. As I listened to his greeting on the answering machine, I became even more disappointed. All I got was “Hey, Brent, it's James. Hope you're doing well. Cathy and the kids and I just—” before I heard a squeaking noise and the message stopped.

I cursed under my breath as I lifted the cover to retrieve the small cassette tape, which was now a tangled mess inside the machine. Before I married her, Alison had been thrifty, but it had allowed her to build up a decent savings. Now that I was unable to work, our accounts had dwindled, and she had to become even more of a penny-pincher. That was why we were still using this ancient answering machine with the tiny cassette tapes to record messages. I think we were probably the only people under the age of seventy who had not yet switched to a digital answering machine. Now this broken tape was just one more reminder of how my injuries had changed every aspect of my life, including finances.

I tossed the tape into a wastebasket, wheeled my chair to the desk in the corner and opened the top drawer, where Alison usually kept a few cassettes. I grabbed the first one I saw and went back to the machine. After I placed it in the answering machine, I rewound the tape then pressed
PLAY
. Sometimes Alison threw used tapes into that drawer, and I wanted to listen to be sure I wasn't recording over something she might have wanted to save. What I heard caused my blood to run cold.

“Yo, it's Bubba. I took care of that thing you wanted me to do. I don't think you gotta worry about that dude going anywhere real soon. That bat did the trick. I wouldn't be surprised if old boy was paralyzed for life. I don't know what he did to make you want to hurt him like that, but…oh well, whatever. When you gonna call me back so we can talk about you paying me the other half of my money? You still owe me twenty-five hun'ed.”

My hands shook as I reached out and stopped the tape. Confused thoughts raced through my head. Whoever this Bubba was, he obviously came from the streets, and I couldn't imagine how Alison would know someone like that. My mind was struggling to make the connection between my devoted, caring wife and everything I had just heard this man say. Could it be possible that Sonny hadn't been the one to attack me? Had Alison paid someone to beat and maybe even kill me? I felt bile rising in my throat as I realized that this might actually be true.

I retrieved the cassette from the machine, not quite sure what I was going to do with it. I knew I had to confront Alison with what I'd heard, and demand an explanation. In the meantime, I would search for any more clues in the house.

I put the tape on my lap and moved back over to the desk to find the file folder containing Alison's bank statements from the past year. Rifling through the papers, I found the statement from the month after the attack and examined the column that listed all the previous month's withdrawals. Tears collected in the corners of my eyes when I saw it—a cash withdrawal in the amount of twenty-five hundred dollars, made just days after I ended up in the hospital. Scanning backwards over the list, I found the other one, another withdrawal in the same amount, made while I was on my last trip to San Francisco.

The papers fluttered to the floor around my wheelchair as I sobbed uncontrollably at the horror of my situation. While I was on the West Coast, planning to come home and reveal my sexuality to the church, my wife was on the East Coast, preparing to have me assaulted. And now I was in a wheelchair, almost entirely at her mercy.

When I had no more tears left, I sat silently and considered my options. Alison had committed an unthinkable act, a crime, and I knew I had to call the police to report it. But as I imagined the events that would follow her arrest, I wasn't so sure it would be my best move. I was able to take care of B.J.'s basic needs—changing his diapers, warming his bottles, putting him down for his naps—but beyond that, how much could I really do for him if Alison was in jail? How would I handle it once he learned to walk? I couldn't even get to the phone in time to answer it, so it was pretty unlikely I could chase behind an energetic toddler to keep him out of danger all day long. The closest thing I had to a family was James, and he was too busy with his own life right now to ask him for any help. I could hire a babysitter, but that cost money, and until my doctors said I was fit to return to work, I would never be able to afford it. The truth was, Alison was the one supporting our family, and without her, I would be virtually helpless, unable to give my son the life he deserved.

As I thought about the frightening truth, B.J. began to cry. I went into his room, stopped beside the crib to take him out, and once he was in my arms, his cries subsided. I rocked him gently until his eyelids drooped and he drifted off to sleep. A single tear fell onto his shirt as I watched him sleep and tried not to cry again. My first concern, I knew, had to be the safety and happiness of my child. I wondered, though, if running away with B.J. would be a wise choice. Just like if Alison went to jail, who would help me raise B.J. if I took him right now and ran away? I realized that taking away his mother would not be in his best interests.

Of course, I still had to question whether we would be safe here in the house with Alison. After all, she had done something so unimaginably horrible. She had robbed me of my ability to function as a man…but the act was so out of character for her. The Alison I had known was mild-mannered and kind, so willing to give of herself, to care for me in my time of greatest need. What had driven her to such an act, I wondered. Had Alison gone crazy?

Then it hit me. With great sadness, I realized that it wasn't really Alison who had done this to me; I had done it to myself. It wasn't her fault that she married a flawed man. Alison was, in fact, the sweet woman I had first known her to be. She wasn't a deranged criminal with violent tendencies. No, I was the one who turned out to be something other than what I said I was in the beginning. If I had been honest with myself about my sexuality from the start, I probably never would have married her. All she really wanted was someone to love her, someone to start a family with. I let her believe she could have those things with me, and even gave her the child she wanted. So, how did I expect her to react when I threatened to take all of that away from her in the blink of an eye? Yes, she went further than she should have to keep her family together, but I knew that as long as I wasn't planning on leaving her, I would never have to worry about Alison harming me again. In fact, I knew that all she really wanted to do was care for me better than anyone else ever could. And when I was truthful with myself, I had to admit that I needed her to do that now. I needed Alison's care, and so did B.J., the only person who really mattered now.

I looked down at my wheelchair and sighed. I would be staying in this chair for the rest of my life, and my family would be staying together, in spite of it all.

A READING GROUP GUIDE

 

SO YOU CALL YOURSELF A MAN

 

CARL WEBER

 

ABOUT THIS GUIDE

 

The suggested questions are intended to enhance your group's reading of this book.

1. Do you think James should have told Cathy about Marcus right away? If not, why? And when would have been the right time?
   
2. Did you think that Sonny was going to kill the couple in his apartment?
   
3. If you were James, would you have let Michelle continue to blackmail you into babysitting after the first few times?
   
4. In what previous Carl Weber book was Michelle also a character?
   
5. Were you surprised when Jackie's true identity was revealed? Did you look back to see if you had missed clues, and if so, did you find any?
   
6. If you were Tiffany, would you have moved in with Sonny after you came home and found roaches all over your apartment?
   
7. Would you be able to leave your child behind as easily as Michelle did?
   
8. Do you believe Brent was ever physically attracted to Alison?
   
9. When did you realize that Sonny was crazy?
   
10. Do you think you have people like Jackie and Brent in your church?
    
11. Would you have let James back in the house if you were Cathy?
    
12. What was your opinion of Sonny's wife, Jessica, before Brent met her in San Francisco?
    
13. What did you think of Alison? Did you feel sorry for her? Did she go too far to protect her reputation in the church?
    
14. Could you kill your best friend to save someone else's life?
    

The following is a sample chapter from Carl Weber's
eagerly anticipated upcoming novel
THE FIRST LADY.

It will be available in January 2007
wherever hardcover books are sold.

Enjoy!