On the Other Side (33 page)

Traci laughed. “You know me way too well, brother dear. It's a reflex action. My eyes automatically go into ‘roll mode' when I detect you're about to step up on your soapbox.”

“Oh no, you didn't. You see what happens when a brother like me tries to drop some knowledge? Folks get all resistant to hearing the truth; even my own sister! Speaking of knowing you too well, please tell me you didn't vote Republican.”

“You're not supposed to ask me who I voted for.”

“Knowing you, it wouldn't surprise me in the least if you went all Republican on me. I fully understand your predilection toward
vanilla flavor. Hell, I've enjoyed my own bit of jungle fever in the past. But, when it comes to politics, a black Republican ain't fucking natural. I mean, really, talk about a goddamned oxymoron. How can
any
black person be black and Republican at the same time, especially when the Democratic candidate is black?”

“I'm not going to go there with you, Darren. You and I both know that could take hours. However, I will say this. I voted for who I believed to be the best candidate, regardless of color. I hope that's what you did as well. Besides, my choice of men is irrelevant. I loved Bryan, a black man, with all I had and look where it got me. Don't get me wrong; his being black wasn't a factor. I've dated all kinds of men and I'm just saying, good and bad comes in all colors.”

“I'm sorry you got hurt, sis. You didn't deserve that, but I'm not even going to sit here and lie. My first alliance is always going to be to my people. I wouldn't have cared if J.J. from
Good Times
was running for President. I would have voted for him. As a people we've endured slavery, unfair imprisonment and all manner of discrimination from A to Z. I owe it to every generation that follows me to elect a black man President, again, so that my children and your children and all the little black children that follow know that they can be anything they want to be, including President of these United States. There was a time when children couldn't believe that. Now they can. Hell, there was a time you and I couldn't even vote. With a second term, the message will be clear. It will prove that his election was not a fluke or something handed to him. It will prove that the people, both black and white, decided and democracy ruled. We
all
owe it to our children, including you, to ensure that we play this game called life on a level playing field. That means a black man has as much of a right to be President of these United States as any other man.”

“Or woman,” Traci chimed in.

“Or woman,” Darren agreed. “In fact, if it were up to me, we'd be electing a black woman. That'd show 'em; one of ya'll as President of the United States. I get chills thinking about it.”

“What exactly are you trying to say? Just remember, choose your words carefully since I happen to be one of those black women you're about to stereotype.”

“Naw, naw, don't get me wrong. A black female President would be cool. I will tell you one thing though, every twenty-eight days the country would be fighting with somebody, somewhere and weave hair would be dirt cheap, everywhere.”

“Darren Sanders, you're lucky you're on the phone and in Mississippi and not standing in front of me. If you were here I would kick your ass. You see how you do? If somebody was talking about a black man like that you would be ready to call the NAACP.”

“Dear sister, I forget sometimes how much older you are than me. If I were making the call it would be to Color of Change. That group is on point. They are actively addressing the issues that confront a brother like me in this modern-day world we find ourselves living in.”

“What are you, their spokesperson?”

“No, but I am considering becoming a member.”

“Be careful, Darren, you being a teacher and all, especially in the South. You don't want any of your affiliations to jeopardize your career. You already have enough going on, without adding that to the mix.”

“Don't worry, big sis. I'm good. I'll be smart and prudent in my approach to all things militant.”

“Militant? Now whose age is showing? Do people even use the word militant anymore?”

“I don't know about people, but I do.”

“Have you spoken to Mom lately? She called me a couple of weeks ago about a letter she got from her housing project. Apparently, those living in public housing are now required to work for their shelter, one way or another. They want them to clean up the grounds, mop the floors and stuff like that.”

“What the fuck? I know damned well they didn't send
my
mother a letter asking her to do work around that cesspool. She did her time. She worked and retired and her rent is paid from her own pocket, not from government funding.”

“I guess,
technically
, it is considered government funding, since it is public housing.”

“That's some straight up bullshit!”

“I completely agree with you. I told her to send me the letter and that I would deal with it. I'm sure it's probably a form letter that is sent to everyone living in the complex. They can't possibly expect a seventy-seven-year-old retired woman, who is paying rent, to go out and clean up the building?”

“You're probably right, but I still think it's a bunch of bullshit. The majority of people forced to live in public housing are there because they're either unemployed or underemployed. Hell, instead of making folks clean the damned grounds and shit, they should be helping them to get real jobs with real pay. It's fucking slavery all over again!”

“Look who's talking about slavery, Mr. Darren Sanders. You were the last person I expected to pack up and move to Mississippi, of all places. That's like the belly of the beast. I half expect to find some slaves that were
never
freed still pining away for their freedom.”

“Oh, stop it. It's not that bad here. The truth is, as quiet as it's
kept, racism is alive and well in the North as well; always has been. Folks put a pretty bow on it there,
especially
where you are in New York City. Besides, I moved here for love.”

“Don't remind me. You packed up your entire life to move to Mississippi and that dick left you for someone else. I still can't believe you didn't come back after the two of you broke up.”

“Baby girl, you know that's the African-American dream. All black folks wanna move back down South. Not only that, I feel like I'm needed here much more than I was in New York City.”

“I need you.”

“That's all well and good but I was talking about work. In New York I was constantly trying to stay one step ahead of the funding curve. No sooner did I feel like I was making an impact, whether it was HIV counseling or educating families, and suddenly the program would lose funding and I was on to the next program. It's different here and if I'm going to constantly live in fear of losing my job, at least I can do it in a place where the cost of living is a
lot
lower.

“Not all black folks. The last place I want to be is anywhere in the South. Hell, I don't even want to be in the North. This city is draining the hell out of me. If it were up to me I'd be living in Tuscany somewhere.”

“I was half expecting you to say Germany.”

“Believe me, I've considered it.”

“I know you have. Our brother and his wife would love having you there. They'd probably throw a parade in your honor. Now me, on the other hand, that's another story altogether.”

“What do you mean? Sebastian loves you, and so does Angelika.”

“I have no doubt that they both love me. However, Sebastian has clearly never gotten used to the idea of his brother, the queer.”

“Oh, Darren, don't say that.”

“It's the truth. I make him uncomfortable.”

“I guess it's just a guy thing,” Traci offered.

“Yeah, it's a guy thing. In the meantime, I haven't seen my own brother in almost five years.”

“The two of you are ridiculous. Do I have to do an intervention? Tell you what. I was planning on visiting for Christmas. Why don't we make it a family affair and spend Christmas in Germany?”

“You'd better check with Sebastian and Angelika before you make plans like that.”

“It's no big deal. I already spoke with them months ago and mentioned I might come for the holidays. They do it up big for Christmas in Germany. Instead of one day they celebrate for several days. Anyway, Sebastian and Angelika are expecting me.”

“The key word here, Traci, is they're expecting
you
, not me.”

“So, we'll add one more person to the mix. Their house is big enough to hold us and if it's not, we'll stay in a hotel. If Mom weren't so terrified of flying, I would try to get her to come as well. I just know what the answer is going to be.”

Darren chuckled. “You can forget that,” he said.

“Yeah, I know. Anyway, Darren, I've got a lot of studying to do. Promise me you'll think about it and don't be such a stranger, okay?”

“I promise.”

“You know I love you, right?” Traci asked.

“Of course I do. I love you too, Traci.”

“Stay safe,” Traci added.

“Always. Later.”

After she hung up, Traci realized her comment about safety was more than general. She worried so much about him. Being a black gay man in the South couldn't be easy.

Glancing at the clock, Traci realized that she and Darren had been on the phone for almost two hours. She grabbed a quick bite to eat from the fridge, while looking through an old photo album with pictures of her and Darren when they were kids. Pleasant memories of her childhood lulled her to sleep. Unfortunately, those memories didn't sustain her through her dreams. Those were full of Bryan. As hard as she had tried, she still couldn't shake him, not even when she slept.

Some time around midnight, exhilarated voters shouting four more years awakened Traci from a sound sleep. The voices full of enthusiasm chanting outside her window were almost enough to help her forget her dreams, and Bryan. Despite the fact that she was embarking on what she hoped would be a great new start, she couldn't help but bemoan her former life. In that life she had been in love with the same man since she was a girl. She and Bryan had been dating since they were both in high school. After college they moved in together and she believed that they would eventually marry. That is, until she had arrived home early from work one day to discover the love of her life in bed with her best friend. There had been lots of tears, and even more yelling and screaming, before Traci slammed the door behind her, leaving Bryan and everything associated with that old life far behind her. She decided it was time for her to live the life she was intended to live and not Bryan's life or the life everyone else expected her to live. That meant trading the “burbs” for a place in the city and her nice safe job at the insurance company for school, once again. She had always wanted to teach but Bryan and her mother had convinced her it was mostly a thankless job and not very financially lucrative. Clearly, Bryan was no longer a consideration and her mother would have to understand that she was a grownup and therefore had to make her own life decisions.

When Traci moved, she took very few of her belongings with her. Somehow, everything seemed to remind her of Bryan. Instead, she convinced herself that it might be fun to start from scratch. That's what she was doing when she met Bill.

“You need some help with that?”

Traci turned to find an attractive man with penetrating grayish-green eyes and olive skin smiling broadly at her.

“Um, yeah, I could use a little help,” she admitted.

He hoisted the large box onto his shoulders and, for the first time in a long time, Traci found herself attracted to someone other than Bryan. Despite the fact that he wasn't a large man, physically, his presence was one of great stature. He seemed to possess an air of strength and power from within, by which she was instantly intrigued.

“What floor?”

“Oh, yeah, I'm on the third floor; three A,” she responded, distractedly.

“Three A it is!”

“Thank you so much. I was just taking a little rest.”

“No problem. Besides, no woman as beautiful as you should be reduced to doing manual labor. Where is your husband, at work?”

“Don't have one of those.”

The expression of pleasure emanated from his entire being.

“I guess that's all the more reason I should have paid for white glove delivery.”

“No worries. Bill Bianco at your service.”

As soon as he entered her apartment Traci was aware of how sparsely furnished her place was.

“Just moved in?” he asked.

“I've been here a couple of months. I don't have much furniture, but I do have coffee. Would you like some?”

“I would love some.”

Traci was surprised at how easy it was to talk to Bill. It was as if she had known him for years. She knew she should probably put on the brakes on the runaway train in her head, but it all reminded her of one of her favorite films,
Cloud Atlas.
She somehow felt as though she had known him before, maybe in another lifetime.

These were the times when she got angry with Bryan and Jennifer all over again. She missed having a best girlfriend to bullshit with. She talked to Darren all the time but it was different with a really good girlfriend. Traci made a mental note to get out in the world and mix and mingle. That was what Darren told her; that she couldn't meet anyone, male or female, by sitting in the house, although her encounter today had proved a loophole in that statement.

She hoped her handsome neighbor wasn't married or living with someone. That seemed to be the other problem she had. Every time she met a man, he was already involved with someone else. What the hell was wrong with people anyway? Wasn't it hard enough spending time with one person at a time without making things extremely complicated? When she was dating someone, she enjoyed focusing all of her attention on that one man. The thought of a steady influx of multiple men made her feel exhausted. She had enough to think about with work and her dreams for the future without trying to keep straight which man was which. Although she was willing to admit that was probably a woman's way of thinking. Men seemed to have no problem at all with juggling more than one woman at a time with ease. Or, maybe it wasn't with as much ease as it appeared.