Just Make Him Beautiful (32 page)

Step Four: We made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.

Step Five:
 
We admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.

Step Six
:
 
 
We were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
 

Step Seven
:
 
We humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
 

Step Eight
:
 
We made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.

Step Nine
:
 
We made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

Step Ten
:
 
 
We continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.
 

Step Eleven:
 
We sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.

Step Twelve
:
 
Having had a spiritual awakening as a result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to addicts, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

Not to be funny
,
but I
was thinking
how nice it would be if there was something like a
twelve-
step program in being gay
, p
rimarily, a
twelve-step
program in the rules and bylaws of gayhood
.
Hm
m.

Anyway I
listen
ed
to the tragic yet inspiring stories of these brothas who at times would
break
down and cry.
This one dude stood up and began telling his story. To make a long story short, he stated that he would stay high all the time o
n
crack cocaine.
H
e would stay in the house and was so paranoid
.
E
very strange or unusual sound he heard, he would run into his living room and peek out his living room window to see if Santa Claus was actually coming to see him.
He stated that since he didn’t have a fireplace in his home, he thought Santa would come and knock on his front door
, not
to hurt him
but bring him his next fix
.

Chile
, I laughed so hard, I was litera
l
ly asked to leave the meeting.
 

I
truly
felt sorry for these
people
. T
hey scared the shit out of me. I was the youngest one here
,
and
it was quite obvious to everyone
that
I was a feminine gay man. Now
,
most would have tried to butch it up, but I wasn’t gonna try to be something or someone I wasn’t.

I mentioned to Mr. Webber
that s
ome
of the men
were making
threats and advances toward me
,
but
he said
there wasn’t anything he could do until something actually happened. He stated that brothas in here threaten
ed
each other all the time
,
but
ninety-nine percent
of the time, the
y
we
re
just mouthing off
,
doing what a lot of men d
id,
wanting to be the
a
lpha
m
ale in an all
-
male environment.

The worst time
was
at night because during the day, there was always something planned for us to do.
Also, t
here was always someone in charge who
could make sure nothing happened that wasn’t
supposed
to happen. S
ome of the occupants actually had daytime jobs and would leave in the morning and not come back
until the evening.

I wanted to sleep somewhere closer to the walls
,
to avoid having anyone on either side of me,
but I wasn’t that fortunate.
The
only cot left was in the middle of the room,
with
a bum
that stunk to high heaven
on one side
,
and
a known drug addict, thief, rapist, and bully
on the other.

T
he first time I met him
,
he utter
ed
out of his mouth, “Yo
,
man, you look like a bitch,” grabbing his crotch and looking at me wide
-
eyed.

I woke up early
the next
morning
and found myself on my stomach
, though
I usually sle
pt
on my side.
T
he covers were pulled off me
,
and my underwear
was
down by my knees
,
and th
is
known drug addict was standing over top of me, masturbating.
I was so scared
,
I scream
ed
as loud as I could
,
while trying to pull my underwear back up on me.

I woke up everyone in the building
.
T
hey all looked at me as though I was crazy. Of course
,
the
drug addict jumped back in his bed and acted like he didn’t know what was going on.

The night monitor
escorted me into Mr. Webber’s office to ask me questions so that he could make out
a
report.
I told the night monitor what had happened and answered all of his questions
,
but he acted as though he didn’t believe one word I
’d
said. Once the interview was over, I went back to my cot, threw my covers around me
,
and rocked myself back and forth until daybreak.
I knew from that point on
that
I would never be able to sleep in this place.

The next morning I was summoned to Mr. Webber’s office
.
I couldn’t wait to talk to him and let him know what had happened
, thinking
he could make arrangements somehow
for
me
to
switch cots with someone
, p
referably
someone
who slept
on the second floor
,
since
I wanted to be as far away
as possible
from that goon
. 

Mr. Webber
told me
that
,
technically, no crime had been committed. As for switching cots, that wasn’t possible
either
.

“I
f
I
tr
y
to change someone’s sleeping area
,
that would cause confusion.
”
             

Confusion?
What the fuck was he talking about, confusion? He would prefer me to be harmed or raped than to cause
c
onfusion?

T
here was no way I could stay here another night.
A
fter leaving Mr. Webber’s office
,
I checked myself out and walked right out the front door
, not
know
ing
where I was going
.
 

I walked until I got tired. I stumbled upon
Freedom
P
ark
and decided to sit down and rest my legs. As I sat there watching people go on with their daily lives, I began to feel sorry for myself. I had no money and no place to
go
.
I
guess you could say, I
had my own pity party going on.

I kept thinking about all the things I had been through up until this point.
M
y spirit was still broken
,
and
my faith was gone,
so
I couldn’t even ask God to forgive me or even help me.
I had to start helping myself.

I began thinking about Keith
and what he expected from me.
I tried to weigh the pros and the cons
.
B
ottom line was, I’d rather
live in a mansion, have a full stomach
,
and have money in my pocket than to be homeless and broke.
T
hank goodness for the shelters and the churches that support
ed
them
,
but it
wasn
’
t
the
place for me.

I
decided
to put my pride aside and figure out a way to crawl back to Keith. I pulled my cell phone out of my man bag and called his number.

He answered his phone on the second ring.
“Hey
,
s
hawty
.
W
hat’s up?”

“
Ah, can you come get me?” I
said
in a whisper.

“Whe
re
you at?”

“I’m over at
Freedom
Park
,
by the water fountains
, on
South
Twenty-
F
ourth
Street
.
You gonna come get me?”

“
Yeah
,
shawty
.
I’ll be there in
twenty
minutes.”

I was so excited to actually be going back to the mansion and having a soft comfortable bed to l
a
y in,
a tub full of bubbles, a large flat
-
screen TV with over 200 channels to view
, my
Patti Labelle
CD collection
,
and last but not least, a delicacy of food to nourish my body.
I
felt
like I’
d
been gone for weeks
,
and it
had
only been a couple of days.

I know that most could care less about these things but for me, I
had to have them.
E
ven if I had to sell my soul to the devil
, so be it
. God truly didn’t seem to care for me or my soul, so why not give Satan
a chance? It sure beat the hell out of living in a shelter,
c
hile boo.

Suddenly, I realized I had on the same jeans and T-shirt I had on when I
’d
left Keith’s house.
Oh my God! What will he think?

I pulled out my compact and I looked a hot mess. I needed my braids redone
because my hair was all over my head
, I could use a
serious facial treatment
,
and
a
manicure wouldn’t
have
hurt either.

I heard a horn honk and looked over my compact and
saw
Keith sitting in his Escalade
,
looking some kinda good in his
“
yo boy outfit
”
and sun
glasses
.

I got in the passenger side.
“Thanks for coming and picking me up
,
Keith
.
”

“No problem
,
s
hawty.
Where you been
?”

“It’s a long story
,” I replied, sitting back and getting comfortable in the cushioned leather seats. “
I just need a nice hot bath.”

“Oh
,
okay
.
I have missed you
.
”