Being Human (39 page)

Then Tyler discovered us together in the worst possible way, and I thought I was dead. The memory always played out like my visions. Snapshots of time. Darryl and me in his bedroom with my pants around my ankles. The door opening. Tyler standing frozen as his son gave his adoptive son a blowjob. A gun to my head.

Darryl stopped Tyler from pulling the trigger. He boldly stepped up and declared his sexuality. As our father, Tyler should accept both of us. The gun remained pressed to my head, so Darryl pulled out his trump card.

“Mama wouldn’t want this. She’d want you to love me no matter what and you know it.”

Darryl’s mom died before Tyler brought me home, but she was part of the reason he saved me. Darryl told me everything about his mother and who she was. Kind and accepting. An unusual personality to have when one was the girlfriend of a gang leader. She pulled it off, convincing Tyler to make peace with rival gangs. When she died, the tentative peace between Victory Street and the other gangs – especially the gang who occupied the territory next to us, South Ontario Street – dissolved into violence.

Those words were all it took for Tyler to relent. He made us promise not to tell anyone else. We agreed, knowing, along with not being able to accept our sexuality, other gang members would assume it was a sign of weakness on Tyler’s part. Why couldn’t their leader raise two boys to be men? Did he coddle them too much? He should have been tougher.

Then, another horrifying moment. Darryl and I were alone in his room, our arms locked around each other as we kissed. I had backed off for a breath. My eyes fluttered open and connected with his. The image was brief; a glimpse I barely caught. What I saw made my heart break.

Darryl with another man.

I ended the relationship, claiming I heard other members talking and they were getting suspicious. I even turned to Tyler with the truth and begged him to back up the lie. If Darryl knew my real reasons, he’d want to fight, to change the snapshot like I desperately wanted to. But that wasn’t possible. Any attempt to change what I saw would only make it happen faster.

That truth had been a hard lesson and I learned it well.

Keeping my eyes lowered, I pulled free of Darryl. I didn’t have to look to know pain shined in his eyes. The knowledge I hurt him tore at my broken heart. Maybe I would see something different if I looked again… I forced the thought away. My decision to end the relationship meant I would see the same future. I couldn’t watch my heart break again.

Patricia Lynne never set out to become a writer, and in fact, was never any good at it during high school and college. But some stories are meant to be told and this one chose her. Patricia lives with her husband in Michigan, hopes one day to have what will resemble a small petting zoo and has a fondness for dying her hair the colors of the rainbow.

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