Authors: E. Lynn Harris
Raymond recognized the deep, sensual voice immediately, and he slowly turned to face John Basil Henderson. He was wearing a cranberry-red knit shirt that accented his nipples, which looked as hard as cherry pits, and some tight black pants that looked like jodhpurs, embracing every muscle in his lower body. It had been a year since Raymond had seen Basil in the flesh, but the effect was, as usual, heart-stopping.
“Basil, what are you doing here?” Raymond asked.
This is the last person I need to run into
, Raymond thought.
“I wanted to see you,” Basil said in a lustful tone. There was something soft and welcoming in the incredible grayness of his eyes. Each stare felt like a sexual encounter. Basil had a way of doing that to both men and women. For Basil, seduction was an art and a pleasure. The way he carried himself, the way he walked, and the features of his handsome face were the signs of a man who had been told more times than the law should allow how fine he was.
Raymond blushed. “Yeah, right.”
“So where is little bro? He had a great game,” Basil said.
“Yeah, he did. We’re all very proud of him.”
“Should I be calling you Judge Tyler, or is it still just Raymond?”
Basil was standing so close that Raymond could smell the spearmint Certs Basil had popped in his mouth before greeting him.
“Still just plain Raymond,” he said as he nervously stepped back slightly.
“What’s up with that?”
“The confirmation process just takes a little time,” Raymond explained.
“Right … right. Let me know if I need to git my boys on them,” Basil joked as he reached out and patted Raymond on the shoulder.
Raymond gave him a half-smile and then looked at Dawn talking with his parents, or at least, with his mother. Raymond Sr. was still not looking in her direction. His father looked pitiful, like a puppy waiting for his master to return. Raymond knew he needed to rescue his father and save him from himself.
“Let me introduce you to my pops,” Raymond said to Basil.
“Cool,” Basil smiled. The two of them walked slowly through the throng of well-wishers waiting for the victorious Wildcats.
“Pops.”
Raymond’s father turned to face his son with a relieved look on his face.
“Yeah, Raymond,” he said.
“I got somebody I want you to meet. This is Basil Henderson, who used to play for the New Jersey Warriors,” Raymond said.
“Of course! You signed a football for me. It’s a pleasure meeting you,” Raymond Sr. said as he grabbed Basil’s hand and shook it in a double clasp.
“It’s nice meeting you, sir. Looks like you got a future NFL star of your own,” Basil said.
“You think so?” Raymond Sr. asked. His dour face was suddenly full of excitement like he was meeting the president or Justice Thurgood Marshall.
“If he keeps playing like he did today,” Basil said.
“You aren’t still playing, are you?”
“No, sir. I’m working for ESPN,” Basil said.
“So you here covering the game?”
“You could say that,” Basil said as he looked at Raymond from the corner of his eye. Raymond Jr. started walking closer to the locker room door.
Basil and Raymond Sr. continued to talk about football for a few minutes while Raymond went over to check on his mother and Dawn. Raymond suddenly heard a loud burst of cheers and applause and looked up to see a smiling Kirby surfacing from the locker room door. Kirby was wearing a tight gray T-shirt and jeans, with a purple and white gym bag hanging over his shoulders. His close-shaven head was covered by a purple N.U. baseball cap, and a single diamond stud gleamed from his left ear. Raymond rushed over to hug his younger brother and whispered, “Great game, little bro, great game.”
“Word … word. We kicked some Sooner butt today,” Kirby said proudly.
“I mean,” Raymond said as he smiled at his brother. Kirby Tyler was an imposing young man, brawny and tall with big whiskey-colored eyes.
“Did you meet Dawn?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“So what do you think?”
“She seems real nice,” Raymond said.
“Yeah, man, she’s da bomb. Where are Mom and Pops?”
“Over there,” Raymond said as he pointed toward his mother.
“Where’s Pops?” Kirby asked Raymond as he looked at his mother and girlfriend chatting like old friends.
“Aw, he’s over there with Basil Henderson.”
“Basil Henderson is here? Was he covering the game?” Kirby asked quickly. Kirby took off his hat and ran his large hands over his head.
He put the hat back on and tucked his T-shirt into his jeans like he was about to be interviewed for a television sports show.
“Naw, I don’t think so. But I think he still works for ESPN,” Raymond said.
“Let me go over there and pay a playa his respects,” Kirby said.
“Go on, we will talk later.”
“Are you going to stay here a couple days extra so we can hang out?” Kirby asked.
“Don’t you have school?”
“Naw, I’ve got a couple of weeks before registration.”
“You want me to?”
“Right … right. You could come to practice and we can hang out. And you could get a chance to know Dawn,” Kirby said.
“Then it’s a deal,” Raymond said. He suddenly felt a dizzying rush of tenderness and love for his little brother. It was a love Raymond knew he could always count on.
“I saw Raymond,” Basil said with a big smile. The doctor tried to recall the last time Basil had smiled so warmly and broadly.
“How did it go?”
“It went fine. Raymond didn’t believe I had come to the game to see him, you know, he thought it was work related. I just had this feeling, knowing Raymond, he’d be at the first game his little brother was starting. He looked great and I even had dinner with him and his folks. His parents were real cool. We didn’t talk that much. I still think he gets nervous around me.”
“Why is that?”
“I think it’s because he doesn’t want me to know how he feels,” Basil said confidently.
“Has he said that to you?”
“No, he doesn’t have to. We’re both men and men play games.”
“Was his partner there?”
“No, and when I asked about him, Raymond gave me this stern
look and said he’s fine. And I noticed he didn’t mention him during dinner and gave his little brother the same answer when he asked about him. Something’s up with those two and I’m going to figure it out.”
“And how do you plan to do that?”
“Raymond is coming to New York to work on some legal deal. And from what I can gather he might be here for a while. He said he was going to call, but if he doesn’t, I’ll call him. I heard him tell his brother’s girlfriend where he was staying. I’ll give him a couple of days and then I’ll call.”
Basil was silent for about five minutes. After his initial burst of excitement, his face had grown sad.
“Is there something about your meeting with Raymond that’s bothering you?”
“Not really. I was just thinking about how nice it was having dinner with him and his family. I mean, they really seem tight. I know from past dealings with Raymond that he and his father have had their moments, but they seemed so close. And I could tell his mother spoils Raymond and all the men in that family. It made me wonder what I missed by not having a mother.”
“Are you still planning on finding out information about your mother?”
“Someday. But I don’t know where to start. I guess I could go to my aunt. But in the past she hasn’t seemed willing to give me any information. And besides, what good would it do? I mean, she’s dead.”
“I thought the point was to find out about that side of your history.”
“What if it’s not a good history? I mean, what if I got uncles and mofos on her side of the family that are sicker than my father’s people?”
“That’s possible. But I know you can handle it.”
“I don’t think so, and I have second thoughts about that shit. I might just open up a can of shit I won’t be able to deal with.”
“So why did seeing Raymond with his family make you sad?”
“Who said it made me sad?”
“The look.”
“I don’t get sad about shit like that. I was just thinking how nice I felt. Even though Raymond was semishady, it was just good being around him. Seeing him smile and inhaling his scent.”
“Have you told your father about our sessions?”
“Naw,” Basil shrugged.
“I thought you were planning to.”
“You’re the one that suggested that. I’ve told you about my father and I’m sure he would think this was some weak-ass sissy shit,” Basil said firmly.
“Maybe if you told him what brought you here.”
“What’s that going to do?”
“It might make him understand.”
“How can he understand this shit when I don’t?” Basil asked. He noticed the doctor looking at the clock on the desk.
“I’m outta here. I know my time is up,” Basil said as he leaped from the chair.
The tour of
Dreamgirls
was off to a slow rebirth. Lukewarm reviews and half-full houses had the producers concerned that the show might not ever get out of the nation’s capital. The fourteen days of performances had passed very slowly. One critic had gone as far as to christen the production
Screamgirls
and predicted that Michael Bennett, the creator, was probably turning over in his grave. He was kinder to the men in the cast, praising the lead, David Brown, in the role of Curtis Taylor, Jr., a Berry Gordy, Jr., type character, and Vondell Thomas, who played James Thunder Early, a James Brown/Little Richard composite character. The only females mentioned were the lead character, Effie Melody White, and Yancey, whom he called “stunningly beautiful with an icy elegance” and “a star waiting to drop on the Broadway stage.” It pained Nicole that neither her name nor her character’s name had received a mention. But she knew that sometimes, when critics were brutal, you considered yourself lucky to go unnoticed.
Nicole was glad to be in Detroit, where she hoped things would be better, despite the fact she was missing her husband. Late night calls from Jared had kept her focused and upbeat, but she was always tired. After the Washington reviews, the director had started three-hour rehearsals in the morning, and then another two-hour session in the afternoon with the female principals. The only good thing was the overtime pay, but Nicole was willing to give up a few dollars for an afternoon nap.
On opening night in Detroit’s Fisher Theater, Nicole and Yancey had a light supper before the bus that transported the company to the theater departed. In the two weeks since leaving New York, cast members were already beginning to pair off. Nicole was happy that she already had a good friend to shop, exercise, and have dinner with before the tour ever started. She knew with a cast this large, she could have ended up like the new kid on the first day of school, walking into the cafeteria and praying someone would invite her to join them. It didn’t help that she felt like a mother to many members of the youthful cast.
Yancey and Nicole were waiting on their salads when Cedric Curry, one of the dancers in the show, walked into the hotel café. Cedric had on headphones and was moving his head and body from side to side, like he was in a dance club, when he noticed Yancey and Nicole. He removed his headphones to give them a wave and a bright smile.
“You think we should ask him to join us?” Yancey asked.
“Why not? I don’t really know him that well,” Nicole said. Cedric, a small man with a teenage boy’s chest and dancer’s butt and legs, had joined the cast during the last two days in D.C. Nicole assumed from his skintight jeans and the way he swung his bag over his shoulder that he was gay. The female members of the cast usually hit it off with their gay peers, as long as they told the truth about their sexuality.
Broadway road companies were known for their whirlwind romances, both gay and straight, and nobody had the time to look for love on the wrong team. Nicole figured Cedric hadn’t yet met a love or made a friend among the male cast members.
“Cedric,” Yancey shouted as she motioned for him.
“Hey, ladies! Nicole and Yancey, right? Whassup?” he said as he dropped his large leather bag in the empty seat. “Are you ladies inviting me to join you?”