Gate Wide Open (10 page)

Casket Case
November 13
^th
, 2018, 1:34
P.M.

I sat in the front row of the funeral parlor with Alex, Diana, and Mrs. Black. I was a little worried about Ashley being home sick and alone. Shawn had made his exit before the service even started. I knew he was going home, and he and Ashley would be home together, which put my worries to rest.

I knew this would be too hard for Shawn to bear, even with him reconciling with his father only weeks earlier. I could understand, and I didn't even try and stop him from leaving.

I held on to Mother Black, who softly sobbed as the mourners passed the closed casket, touching it and whispering sweet prayers. Despite their tumultuous marriage, she still held her head up proud and free. I was so proud of her.

The parlor was almost filled to capacity, and I was a little shocked at the turnout. I guess people really didn't care about Carl's faults. There were a couple of old faggots in the bunch, which wasn't a surprise to me, but seeing my gynecologist, Dr. Grant, sitting in the pews definitely was. I wondered how he knew Shawn's father, and made a mental note to check in on that later on.

After a couple of sorrowful solos and hymns, a string of people got up and spoke about Carl Black's life.

Just then, public enemy number one, James Parks, waltzed down the aisle in all black like he owned it. All eyes were on him as he made his way to the coffin.

What in the hell? When the fuck did he get out? And does Shawn know he is out? He probably didn't because, if he did, then he would have told me. Or would he? Shit. I just can't shake this muthufucka. All I know is, his ass better stay away from me if he knows what's good for him.

I can't believe I fucked his crazy ass. Twice. In California when I was burying my uncle and then again on my living room floor. I still can't believe that shit, with my whoring ass.

I was broken out of my trance when James's whimpers of sorrow escalated to loud moans. He went all the way Hollywood. He even had the nerve to open the casket. He moaned and sobbed loudly as he leaned in and kissed Carl's corpse.

People gasped all over when he kissed Carl's cold, dead body. I was pissed that they didn't superglue that shit closed. I was going to talk to Momma Black about this mess after service.

James then walked toward the podium to let us know what Carl meant to him. Though noticeably older, he was still handsome in the face.

My mouth gaped opened during his entire spiel. He ranted and raved on and on about how Carl was his all and all, that he couldn't live without him. Momma Black too was shocked and appalled with his over-the-top display of grief.

Finally, James came over to me and Carl's wife with his condolences and made his exit as quickly as he had come in. I breathed a sigh of relief, hoping this was the last time we would be seeing him again. But I knew his ass would pop up again sooner or later.

After the service concluded, everyone headed to Lou-don Cemetery for the interment. Thankfully, James didn't show his face.

 

On the way back to Mother Black's house for the repast, the car was completely silent. Mother Black was in the passenger seat as I drove toward her house.

“Hey, Ma,” Alex yelled from the back of the car. “That dude was straight crazy.” He chuckled. “You woulda thought him and Grandpa was dating or something.” He laughed again. “He was a straight faggot.”

“Alex, don't talk about your”—I caught myself before I said something I didn't want to deal with yet.

Mother Black stepped in, saving me from disaster. “Alex, baby, that man was just a close friend of your grandfather. That's all. Some people get really emotional when they lose someone close to them.”

I don't know about that emotional shit. James is a pain in the ass, and as far as I am concerned, he has no emotions. That bastard was just there to torture our family again. It's like he feeds off drama. I wish his ass would leave us the fuck alone.

I also wondered how Alex acted like he hated gay men when he too had that same demon riding him as well? It's amazing how men can cover that shit up and dress it up to look like it's not what it really is.

I prayed every day that Alex wouldn't take the same road that his “two fathers” took, and I lay on the altar every Sunday praying that the men in my family would be spared from their homosexual demons.

Please, God, help them!

Getting Cranky
November 13
^th
, 2018, 2:03
P.M
.

I just left the Betts Funeral Parlor and was walking to my car, giddy as shit. I had everybody in that muthafuckin' joint eyes on me. I knew they'd be talking about that shit for weeks. I got in my car and was getting ready to pull off when my phone began to ring.

“Hello? Hello? Hello?”

No response.

“Stop calling me, bitch, if you not going to say anything. Coward-ass muthafucka!”

I was fuming hot. I had been getting crank calls for the past couple of days, and the shit was getting on my nerves. Whoever it was blocked out their number so they couldn't be traced.

Ring, ring, ring!

I answered the phone with an attitude. “Hello.”

“Bitch, you're next,” a muffled voice yelled into the phone.
Click!

I stared at the phone in disbelief. I just shrugged it off. Somebody was sure mad at me, but I could have given a fuck. It was probably some bitch pissed off that I had fucked her man or some shit like that. There was always a hater in the bunch. Cunts be hating me because their man be hanging round me like a cat to a can of tuna. Like I always say, “You fucked after I fuck him, because he ain't coming home after he had a taste of my lovin'.”

Ring, ring, ring!

I looked at the phone and smiled. It was my first love. My momma. “Hey, Ma.”

“Hey, baby,” she said, her voice a little on the weak side. “
Cough, cough, cough!
How's mama's baby? Is my Jerry being good? When was you going to call your old mama?”

“Mama, you're not old.” I sighed. Hearing her say that just melted me. My biggest fear was losing her. She was my everything. “I have been meaning to call you, Mama. I was just trying to get myself situated and all. I'm sorry, Mama.”

“No need to apologize, baby.
Cough, cough, cough!
Mama knows you be busy.”

“Mama, is everything okay? You sound like you are sick, Mama.”

Mama was up there in age, and she was a smoker too. Having to take on so much with being a single mom and working two jobs all the time contributed to a lot of stress.

“Well, Jerry, baby.” She hacked a couple of times and started to wheeze a bit. “Them doctors at the Mercy Liberty Hospital says I gots me that lung cancer going on. I got a few months to live, at the most, six.”

I sank down in my seat and slumped over. I couldn't grasp what she was telling me. I couldn't be hearing this. I put the phone down for a second and let the tears flow. I was like a baby in need of tender care.

“Mama,
sniff
,
sniff,
Mama,
sniff,
Mama, are you sure? I mean, what did they say?”

“Well, baby, I've been feeling out of breath the last couple of weeks, and I knew something just wasn't right. So I went to them white folk over at the hospital, and they ran some test and gave me the results about two weeks ago.”

“Mama, you shoulda told me right away.” I sobbed some more.

All the past years of foolishness came to my mind. I'd wasted so much time trying to get even and spending time in jail, I missed the time I was supposed to be spending with her.
What kind of son am I? I should've been home and taking care of my mother instead of fooling around.

“Baby, you had your own problems and your own life. Jesus has it all in control, baby.” Mama went into another coughing fit, which sounded as if it was getting worse by the minute.

The words
your own problems
echoed in my ear like I was in an enclosed room. I was selfish and angry—Those were my only problems—and I let them rule and ruin my life.

“Hold on one sec, Mama.” I fell forward onto the steering wheel and cried some more. A heavy, uncontrollable cry. After a few seconds I got back on the phone with her.

“Jerry, I gots to take this medicine them doctors gave me.” Mama went into another coughing fit. “I'll give you a call back later on. I need to take a nap too.”

“All right, Mama. I'll call you later. I promise.” I hung up the phone and started my car, whimpering the whole time.

First, a stalker, and now the news of Mama being sick. I needed to slow down. Things were starting to get to me.

I pulled off the parking lot and made my way toward Wallace's house. I had to admit, he was a good lover and a helluva fucker. I enjoyed spending time with him. I truly didn't deserve someone like him. I was just wondering how I fell for this nigga so fast. It'd only been a couple of days, and we were all over each other most of the time. It had always been this way with me. I fell in love easily. I got attached to people too easily, and then they always ended up handing my heart back to me cut into pieces.

I decided to give him a call and see if we could set up a play date or something.

“Hey, baby,” Wallace said, his voice sending chills all over my body.

I could picture his hot sweating body as he spoke through the phone. “I was wondering if we could hang out at your spot today.” Yeah, I was falling for this nigga, and my ass knew better than to trust a no-good man. They all dogs, whether they gay or not.

“I'ma be out here on the block for a minute, so you go ahead and let yourself in the apartment. I'll be home, and we can play house when I get there.”

“Oh, okay,” I said a little disappointed. “I can't wait, baby.”

“Muthafucka, I said wait!” he yelled into the phone.

“Excuse me?” I said, a little thrown off.

“No, not you, baby,” he said to me now in a calm tone. “These muthafuckin' crackheads is pushy as shit. I'ma holla at you later.”

“All right, baby,” I cooed into the phone.

I still couldn't believe he was so tender and calm when we were alone. I placed my phone on the passenger seat and proceeded to make my way toward Wallace's house.

As I was driving, I was listening to one of my favorite singers, Jennifer Hudson, rock her classic song, “Spotlight.” It was old, but I was loving it.

I felt so free and happy, knowing I was finally getting a good man. My ass should've known better, from the first bastard that screwed me over, but I was going to take a chance on Wallace. Still, I was going to keep my eyes open, just in case this nigga tried to flip the script on me. You know what they say, Believe half of what you hear, and none of what you see.

I hopped on I-695, cruising to the sweet melodies playing in the car, thoughts of affection and adoration playing in my mind.

Wham! Wham!

“What the fuck?” I yelled, turning around as a truck behind me slammed in the back of my SUV with tremendous force. The truck behind me was tinted, and I couldn't see who was driving.

Wham! Wham!

The driver slammed into the back of my car again, causing my car to swerve.

I gripped the steering wheel and tried to maneuver myself back into a good position. My temperature raised. Whoever was behind me was surely trying to harm me. Cars passed me by ignoring the fact that a crazy muthafucka was purposely trying to take me out. That's Baltimore for you. These nosyass people were watching this bastard try to kill me, and they did nothing. I tried to speed up to get away, but my assailant sped up right along with me.

Wham! Wham!

This time my car went careening across two lanes, and I barely missed a semi-truck by inches.

I tried to reach my phone, which was on the floor of the passenger seat, and not crash into anything. Luckily, just as I reached for my phone and positioned myself upright, the SUV pulled off at an exit, leaving me distraught and fearful.

I pulled over to the side of the road in the emergency lane to get myself together. I just couldn't believe this was happening to me. Well, it wasn't like I didn't deserve it. My ass was definitely not in denial. I just didn't need this shit right now. I rested my head on the steering wheel and breathed a sigh of relief for escaping with my life intact.

My mind flashed to Shawn and his promise to get me for murdering his father. The truth was, I didn't murder his father and didn't know who did. How did they know my number? Were they following me? I didn't have answers to none of my questions. I know I had fucked over a lot of people in my past, and all of them had a reason to want to hurt me, but I just couldn't figure out who.

I got out of my car and walked around to the bumper to see the damage inflicted on my car. “Muthafuckin' coward-ass bastard!”

My shit was royally fucked up, and it was going to cost a grip to get it fixed. I stormed back to the front of my car and got in. I reclined my chair back and closed my eyes as a single tear slid down my cheek. I was more angry at myself for letting this shit get to me than at the damage to my car.

After about another ten minutes of resting, I cautiously got back on the road and proceeded toward Wallace's house. I almost didn't go because I wasn't sure if the person was still following me. I wasn't a punk bitch, so I pressed my way and decided that whoever was trying to take me out was going to have to bring it and bring it hard.

 

I pulled up to Wallace's place about fifteen minutes later and hurried my ass indoors. A little apprehensive about this stalker shit, I wished the coward would have just come to me and meet me face to face.

Anyway, I walked straight to the kitchen and pulled me out a bottle of champagne, the name of which I couldn't even pronounce. I downed about three glasses as I lounged in the huge spa-type tub with candles flickering all around me. I had Anita Baker playing on the entertainment center.

My mind drifted off to my checkered past and the next person on my shit list. Keisha must've been thinking her ass got away with what she did to me, but I was gonna pounce when she least expected it. Her ass probably knew I was out of jail, but was too wrapped up in her life to give a rat's ass about my whereabouts.
Her ass won't forget me when I come at her. I'm gonna leave a lasting impression, for sure.

I got out of the tub after finalizing my plans of revenge and went to the bedroom to watch me a flick and wait for Wallace to come home. I ended up falling asleep totally nude.

 

I was awakened by Wallace licking my inner thigh. “Ahh,” I cooed as he made his way up my chest and then to my neck and lips.
Folgers coffee ain't got nothing on this.
I liked to be awakened by a man suckling on my various body parts. I moaned and panted as he licked the outer rim of my ear, making me tingle and twitch with pleasure.

He was naked, and his dick was rubbing up against me as he continued to lick me down. Then he started deep-throating my meat like a pudding pop.

“Right there, baby. Shit! Gotdamn!”

I grabbed his head and pushed it down, jamming my meat down his throat, lifting my hips off the bed to make sure he took it all in. He was moaning. I was moaning. And I could see him tugging at his own meat at the same time.

He pulled off and walked over to the dresser and pulled out a condom. He seductively walked back over to me, got down on his knees, as I was now sitting on the edge of the bed. He unwrapped the condom and slowly placed it on my dick with his mouth.

“Ahh, yeah,” I moaned.

He pushed me back on the bed aggressively. “You ready?” he said, looking me in the eyes, placing my dick at his awaiting asshole. Then he slowly eased down, taking me in all the way.

His dick was now hard and slapping against my stomach with every thrust. He quickened his pace as I jerked his dick. He was a pro, and he was putting his ass on me better than I'd ever had it.

The bed shook and squeaked as I flipped him over and fucked him with his legs on my shoulder, pounding him with all of my might. Both drenched in sweat, we climaxed at the same time. Collapsing side by side, we struggled to get our breaths once again.

 

We woke up about an hour or so later to replenish our famished bodies. Wallace could burn in the kitchen, which was no surprise to me, because he was so good at everything else.

I still couldn't find any flaws in him, though I knew he had some. I just didn't know what they were. He was a loud snorer, but that wasn't what I considered a character flaw.

I sat at the table with a plate of shrimp and fettuccini and a side of steamed vegetables, totally trying to figure this dude out. He was so good to me. Almost too good.

“Hey, baby.” He looked at me from across the table. He had a napkin in his collar, to protect his designer sleepwear. He was so adorable, I almost couldn't stand it.

“I saw your bumper was smashed in when I pulled in. What happened?”

“Some crazy muthafucka wasn't paying attention when I was driving here, and crashed into the back of my car.” I lied, not too sure how he would handle me telling him about somebody being after me for some shit I did in my past. I also felt, the less he knew about my past, the better. He didn't need to know about all that. So I screwed over a couple of people. Who didn't?

“Whoever it was hit my shit and sped off like a bat in hell. I didn't bother calling the police because I knew it would be a waste of time, because whoever it was probably didn't have any insurance.”

“Oh, okay,” he said, a smile on his face.

“Why you smiling?” I wasn't sure if he was smiling at my misfortune, or if he could tell I was lying.

“Well, I'm not happy this happened to you. It's just that I was going to surprise you and give you my new car and buy me another one.” He was now up and cleaning off our empty dishes, loading them up into the dishwasher.

I peeked at his nice ass as he bent over.

“How would you like that?” He came over to me as I was getting up out of the chair, embraced me from the front, and passionately kissed me with his butter-soft lips. “I can't have my baby riding around in a beat-up ride.”