Get Somebody New (8 page)

“Mmm Hmm.”

I can’t say
that I was looking forward to seeing Jamal, but I was curious to know what he
wanted to talk about. It had been almost a year and he hadn’t called me. “What
was so important that he finally decided to call me?” I wondered.

Jazz had been
going to a series of music production seminars I’d found out about through an
industry contact of mine. They were being held for a whole week every evening
from 6 to 10. They were full of valuable information about startup music
production so I encouraged him to go.

“Zeke I’m so
glad you convinced me to go to these seminars. I am learning all kinds of stuff
about the music business. Good looking out.”

“I want you
to do the best you can. Then when you get to be a famous producer I can say I
know you.”

“Oh so I
ain’t good enough for you to say you know me now?”

“I don’t mean
it like that.”

“I know. I’m
just messing with you. Can you tighten up my fade tonight?’

“Yeah I can.
I’ll go get my clippers and set up.”

“Cool because
I’m overdue for a cut.”

Jazz said
often that he liked how my hair was cut. He was surprised to find out that I
cut my own. After I cut his hair for the first time he refused to let anyone
else cut it again. This time around I convinced him to go with a Caesar cut.
When I finished, I gave him the mirror and he just stared in silence for a
minute.

“Man, it
looks good. I guess I was just used to my regular bald fade, low on the top and
scared to try something new.”

“I told you
it would look good.”

I removed the
protective cape and slowly brushed off the small incidental pieces of hair that
had fallen on him. My limits were tested as I brushed across his broad, bare
shoulders. I worked all around him, brushing his back then ending at his chest.
I took my time on his chest, longer than I needed because I enjoyed the view.
Jazz sat patiently with his eyes closed as I brushed him off. I don’t know if
it was imagination or wishful thinking but he always seemed to enjoy the second
part of his haircut the best.

I laid him
back and placed a warm towel on his face to prepare him for his shave. Jazz
looked so delicious. He was shirtless and wearing a pair of blue nylon
basketball shorts. Only black, ankle-length socks adorned his size 14 feet.

I applied
warm shaving lather to his face and neck. My confidence with the razor put him
at ease. I loved the power I had at that moment and the trust required for him
to lie there. I also enjoyed being able to pamper Jazz while also making him
look good. I shaved him with the straight razor, making slow deliberate
strokes.

“Yo, Zeke,
what kind of cologne you got on? It smells good man.”

“That’s the
soap I used to wash my hands.”

“Oh it smells
good. I want some of that.”

“I use it
before shaves. You don’t want your hands all in someone’s face smelling like
Fritos, hot sausage, and motor oil.”

“Come on man
don’t make me laugh while you got that razor and shit.”

“Okay. Put
your head back, I need to get around your Adam’s apple and I’ll be done.”

After the
shave, I gave Jazz a facial massage as I applied a moisturizer. As I massaged,
I caught the sight of definite movement in the front of his shorts. I thought
it was just the fabric of his shorts at first. Jazz confirmed it was definitely
not the fabric when he reached down and gave himself a firm squeeze. I could
clearly see the outline of his long, thick, rigid penis through the satin-like
material of his basketball shorts. Luckily he couldn’t see me sweating like a
runaway slave. I finished his facial massage and started massaging his neck and
shoulders. As I finished up, I saw a piece of hair on his chest and reached
down to get it. I brought my hand up across the right side of his chest. The tip
of my finger lightly brushed against his right nipple. The bulge in Jazz’s
shorts jumped hard and he grabbed my hand, brought it up to his face, and
inhaled deeply while squeezing his dick with his left hand.

“Mmmmm!” he
said, as he brought my hand to his nose and inhaled the scent.

“Okay Jazz
you’re all done.”

“Already?”

“Yeah.”

“That massage
felt good…. I guess I’ll go take a shower now.”

I cleaned up
in a hurry and retreated to my room to take a cold shower. The shower didn’t
help. I tried to go to bed, but my mind was flooded with images of Jazz.
Finally, after manually attending to my immediate needs, I was able to go to
sleep as I fantasized about Jazz making love to me.

The next day
I met Jamal after class in the student center at school as planned. Time had
certainly been good to him. I’m very sure my self-induced sexual deprivation
played a part in making Jamal look better than he really did.

“Hello,
Jamal. You look well.”

“Nah Zeke.
I’m not doing so good.”

“What’s
wrong?”

“We aren’t
together and I am sick about it. I know I fucked up bad. My conscience has been
kicking my ass because I didn’t apologize to you. I’m sorry, Zeke. I never ever
meant to hurt you.”

“I appreciate
that. Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Well it’s
not all. I know it’s not easy to just take me back. Can we at least hang out to
see if we can recapture what we had?”

“That’s a bad
idea. I’ve moved on.”

“Are you with
someone?”

“No.”

“We owe it to
ourselves to see if what we had is really gone. Please Zeke, I feel like I owe
it to you, to myself, not to give up without a fight.”

“Come over to
my house about 7 P.M. and we can talk some more.”

“Okay, I’ll
be there Zeke.”

I made no
promises but to talk. I couldn’t keep men at bay fantasizing about Jazz all the
time. I had relied on fantasy satisfaction for almost a year and needed some
physical sexual relief. That wasn’t going to happen with me wishfully
fantasizing about a straight man.

I figured
once Jamal arrived and I knew his intentions then we would go from there. I
also didn’t want Jazz finding out anything by surprise so I knew I needed to
keep the conversation between Jamal and I generic.

“So you said
you had a roommate Zeke, who?”

“It’s a
friend of mine, Jazz.”

“Anything
goin on betw…..”

“It’s nothing
like that. He is straight. He also doesn’t know about me. We have never
discussed it and I haven’t given him any reason to suspect I am gay. I just
don’t think it would be a good idea with his views.”

“You mean he
is a homophobe?”

“Well he
doesn’t make comments that suggests he is exactly accepting of homosexuality as
an orientation.”

“How could
you be friends with someone like that? That is totally against everything you
stand for.”

“Don’t think
I haven’t gone over that in my mind. He is a really cool person. Our respective
sexualities have nothing to do with our friendship. I am not his friend because
he is straight nor is he mine because I am gay, or vice versa.”

“You’re
hiding your sexuality from him. I’m sure he isn’t taking any steps to hide the
fact that he is straight.”

“It’s not the
same. People assume by default that you are straight. Especially if you don’t
talk with a lisp, walk with a switch, or act like a big ole blowtorch flaming
queen.”

“That’s just
a stereotype that you and I know isn’t true. Neither one of us acts like that.
No one can tell any difference between us and any other straight man. That’s
actually one of the things that attracted me to you. You are not flamboyant.”

“Oh really,
what else attracted you to me?”

“Do you
really want me to tell you?”

“That’s why I
asked.”

“Let’s go in
the bedroom and I’ll show you.”

Five

Jazz Hardaway

I’m so glad I
stopped that night to help Zeke. He was a good influence on me, after all.
Because of him, I did something I never thought I’d do. I went back to school
and got my diploma, not just a G.E.D. I’d never had anybody believe in me like
he did, not even my own folks.

I was always
afraid I’d turn out just like my dad. He tried to get out of the drug game over
and over. He never stayed out long because it’s the only thing he knew how to
do and he expected me to carry on in his footsteps. He figured by teaching me
the game, it would be his security in his old age. Luckily, I never did any
serious jail time as an adult. If I had stayed in the game it was bound to
happen though.

After being
at Zeke’s for a month or so, something started to concern me. I was getting
vibes from Zeke like he was feeling me. What was fucking with me so much though
was how I kept getting major wood when I was around him. It wasn’t just the
random kind either. My shit would get rock hard and ready to attack something
with a vengeance. Then I would get overwhelmed with a sexual tension that made
me feel like I would go crazy if I didn’t get relief soon.

I always
looked forward to him cutting my hair because he hooked my fade up tight and
gave me the full treatment with the straight razor shave, facial massage, and
all. A nigga felt like he’d been to a spa when Zeke got through. When he rubbed
my neck and shoulders any tension I had just gone away. It was them damn
massages that always did it. I couldn’t even lie, that shit felt so damn good!
Feeling his body so close to mine got me going and he always smelled sooooo
good. He left ya boy with a dick hard as Chinese Algebra!

One night I
got an unexpected surprise and I didn’t handle that shit well at all! I came
home from a gig and went to Zeke’s room to say “w’sup”, like I usually did. I
was about to knock on his door when I heard moaning. I figured Zeke was in
there getting busy with a chick or something. Then I heard him say “Jamal”, but
I just figured I misheard him and went on to take a shower.

Later on, I
was watching TV in the living room when I heard Zeke’s room door open. Zeke and
someone else passed by the living room so fast I didn’t even see them. So I
went to the front window and peeped out the curtain just in time to see some
big, swole, diesel-looking dude grab Zeke, pull him close, and try to kiss him.

Zeke was
pushing the guy away, but dude had his left arm around Zeke’s waist and his
right hand holding the back of Zeke’s head pulling him forward. Zeke kept
pushing him away so finally the dude stopped trying. I was about to go out
there cause I thought he was pushing himself on Zeke, but when I saw Zeke hug him
I knew something else was up. I was shocked, confused, and angry, but I didn’t
know why. When Zeke walked in, I was standing at the door. I don’t know why I
said what I said, just my stupidity I guess, but I said,

“Faggot!
You’re a fuckin' faggot! I can’t believe this shit!”

“What are you
talking about?”

“Don’t play
stupid, nigga. I saw you! That dude was trying to kiss you outside. No wonder
you wanted me to live here. You probably wanted to get with me this whole
time.”

“Okay, first of
all, you know my name and it’s not faggot! Secondly, unless we’re fucking, my
sexual orientation isn’t your business. Third, where the hell you get off
talking to me like that?”

“Damn, I’ll
bet all of your friends and Alton thinks I’m your boyfriend! You probably got
everybody thinking I’m a fag like you!”

“Call me
‘fag’ again and you’re gonna get your lanky ass whipped! No one thinks
anything’s going on between us because it isn’t. I don’t know why you are so
worried about what other people think anyway if you know the truth.”

“Hold up, did
you just say you’d whip my ass? Come on then whip my ass faggot! What’s wrong?
You can’t handle the truth? You are a fucking faggot! I can’t stay here now.
You won’t be sneaking in my room at night trying to molest me faggot!” I said
interrupting him.

Zeke charged
at me like a lightning bolt and caught me with a good right hook to my jaw. I’d
provoked him, looking for a reason to start a fight. Zeke started kicking and
punching me! It hurt like hell too. I raised my fist but I couldn’t bring
myself to hit him.

I still had
an overwhelming instinct to protect him and I wouldn’t have dared hit Zeke, I
mean that’s my boy. To tell the truth, I wanted to hug him. I knew after the
shit I’d said to him, I needed to leave and give him time to cool down, because
he was hot as fish grease!

“You know
calling me a fag would be like me calling you a dummy!”

“What the
fuck did you just say to me?”

“You heard
me! If I’d called you a dummy, you wouldn’t like it would you? That’s the difference
between us though. I’d never say something so hurtful to you because I love my
friends.”

“I’m gonna
leave and let you calm down, before I hurt you, for real.”

“I promise
you Jazz, you won’t kick my ass as easily as you think!”

“I’m getting
the hell away from you right now!”

“Why does
that not surprise me?”

After
thinking about my actions, I felt like a real asshole. I got some clothes,
jumped in my truck, and just drove around Atlanta for about 2 hours trying to
understand why in the hell I was so mad. I wasn’t mad because Zeke was gay; I
had already kinda figured he was. It was because I saw that dude trying to kiss
him. I wanted to fuck that dude up something serious too! I purposely made Zeke
mad by calling him a faggot so he would feel what I was feeling!

I finally
pulled up to the Radisson Hotel on Peachtree, parked, and grabbed my bag from
the back seat. I walked slowly to the counter. The desk clerk brought me out of
my daze when she spoke.

“Welcome to
the Peachtree Radisson, how may I help you?”

“Huh? Oh um….
Yeah, umm, I’d uh.. like a room. I’ll take whatever you got available.”