As I Am Read online

  I left Aunt Norma’s house feeling unhappy and in tremendous pain. What really had happened upstairs with Cedric? One part of me liked the game we played while another part wanted to run home, jump in my mom’s arms, and cry. My body was still hurting, but I remembered what Cedric said about me telling anyone.

  Arriving home, I walked into the house and made a mad dash to the bathroom. I felt like I was going to do number two on myself. I sat on the toilet, pushing the air out of my intestines, and then I saw blood. I almost went into a panic attack, but I dared not tell my mother. I began crying. I took off my underwear and started to wash them in the sink. See Aunt Norma told you never to go up there, but you went anyway, I thought to myself. Now you’re a mess again. You’ve got to learn to listen. Now you’re bloody and stained. Plus, you’re dirty on the inside. No one will want to be your friend now. You’re damaged goods.

  I got off the toilet and went to my bedroom. Robbie wasn’t there, so I laid in my bed looking at the ceiling, trying to figure out life while feeling a tremendous amount of physical pain again. I chose to keep what happened between Cedric and me a secret. To expose it would be too much pain for everyone, and today, I’d had too much pain for a lifetime. Although I felt nasty and dirty, I curled under the covers and went to sleep.

  Chapter Three

  A few months after what I called “the situation” with my cousin Cedric, my body had rebounded from the trauma, but that day still haunted me. Oftentimes, I would wake up in the middle of the night in horrific panic, reliving the experience of Cedric thrusting his penis in me and holding my mouth. Still, I never said anything to my parents or anyone. Am I gay? Is this normal behavior between males? Does Cedric like me and accept me for having a secret? I mean, everyone said that I was gay even though I didn’t feel gay on the inside. What does being gay mean, and what does that have to do with me being an adolescent striving toward adulthood? Can’t I just be Darnell and every one love and accept me for who I am, or do I have to create some alternative personality just to fit in with everyone? There were times when I didn’t think I was healthy because as much as I hate what happened between Cedric and me, there was a point of enjoyment. I really liked holding his penis in my hands, and I loved the way it felt against my butt hole. Although the pain was intrusive and harsh, in retrospect, I feel like I somehow overreacted. I wonder if it were to happen again, would I yell or try to embrace the thoughts that I have emotionally become attached too? These are my thoughts, as I lived in a cocoon of confusion.

  My brother had made friends with a neighbor across the street. His name was Robert Jackson, but everyone called him Ronnie for short. Dad said he was a punk because he had long hair braided in corn rows. I thought his hair was beautiful because of his light complexion and green eyes. He and my brother always played basketball together while I was left home living in my fantasy world. There were times when I saw Ronnie staring at me. One time I caught him, and he turned his head real fast and bumped it on the wall. I laughed inside, as my boyish and flirtatious ego was massaged. Maybe Ronnie likes me, I said to myself.

  Maybe we can do what Cedric and I did, I pondered. Would he even be interested in playing the game with me? I don’t know, but maybe it’s part of my wishful thinking. Frequently, I would catch Ronnie winking and smiling at me. The unwarranted attention caused me to smile and burst with excitement. I couldn’t explain it; it just did!

  One day, Ronnie came over to the house to play basketball with my brother. Robbie had just jumped into the shower. I invited him to the living room to wait until Robbie was done.

  “Darnell, what do you do for fun?” Ronnie asked.

  “I mostly stay in the house and watch TV, but I like going shopping and to the mall with my mom.”

  “That sounds boring, you should come and play basketball with Robbie and me sometime,” Ronnie said, smiling.

  “I don’t know about that, I don’t know how to play,” I said, feeling embarrassed.

  “Well, what games do you play?”

  “I don’t have many, but I can show you one that I learned a few months ago.”

  “Sure, what’s it called?”

  “I really don’t have a name for it, just something that I do,” I said, explaining myself.

  I noticed his eyes getting bigger as he considered playing my game. “Teach me how to play the game, Darnell?”

  I got up off the couch and walked over to Ronnie. I took my right hand and extended it. I aimed straight for Ronnie’s crotch.

  “What is this?” Ronnie asked.

  Without any hesitation, I firmly grabbed his crotch through his basketball shorts, not caring if my brother saw me.

  “Darnell, what are you doing?”

  “This is the game I was telling you about, and you have to relax,” I said, mimicking the instructions Cedric gave me.

  “Oh, I need to relax, huh?” Ronnie asks with a boyish grin on his face.

  “Just sit back, and I will show you how it’s done.”

  Through his shorts, I could start to feel his penis get firm. Ronnie’s penis was much larger than Cedric’s and certainly much longer.

  “Sit back,” I said again.

  Ronnie began to sit back toward the edge of the couch, and I started to pull off his silky shorts. I reached to pull them down from his waist, and as he lifted up, there was a thud as his well-hung penis struck his stomach. “Wow, that’s huge,” I said.

  “So now you got it, what are you going to do with it?” Ronnie asked.

  I pulled his shorts down to his kneecaps, slowly coming back up to his midsection. I slowly opened my mouth and put it on the tip of his penis.

  “Damn!” Ronnie said in ecstasy.

  I continued to go up and down on the tip of his penis with my mouth. The more I did it, the more he seemed to like it. After a few more sucks, I started to go down, and all this creamy white stuff began to come out. Ronnie moaned loudly as this silky stuff gushed out, as if I had broken an artery. I became frightened. I didn’t know what to do, because with Cedric he didn’t do that. Almost panicking, I ran to grab Robbie.

  “Robbie, Robbie, come here, something is wrong with Ronnie,” I said in a frenzy.

  Robbie walked to the living room and seen Ronnie, with all the white creamy stuff over him.

  “Darnell, I’m going to tell Mom,” he said angrily.

  “Yo, Robbie, your brother just grabbed my junk and started sucking it, bro. He wouldn’t stop.”

  “Ronnie, you better leave,” Robbie demanded.

  As Ronnie got up, I still noticed his hard, massive penis, as he had to dip down to put it back in his pants. He pulled up his shorts and left the house, saying nothing.

  * * *

  Later, Mom came home, and as she opened the door, Robbie ran to meet her.

  “Mom, Darnell did the nasty with Ronnie while you were gone!” Robbie blurted.

  “What do you mean, the nasty?” Mom asks.

  “He put Ronnie’s private parts in his mouth.”

  I was hiding out in the bedroom, knowing that Robbie was snitching on me. I said to myself, I hate him.

  “Darnell, get in here!” Mom demanded.

  I jumped out of bed went to her.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said, knowing full well what Robbie had told her.

  “Did you have Ronnie’s private parts in your mouth?” she said while pointing her finger at me. By the way she looked, I knew I was in trouble; I mean a big problem. I nodded.

  “Get your nasty ass undressed, because I’m going to whip the faggot­ness out of you!” Mom barked.

  I began to cry, saying, “No,” but my fate was sealed. I was going to get a whipping for playing a game with Ronnie though not fully understanding anything wrong with the game. Mom left the room and went into her bedroom. She came back with a long black leather belt, striking my legs.

&n
bsp; “You’re not some damn faggot! Little boys don’t suck dick!” mom yelled.

  As fast as it started, it was over. I got up off the floor and headed back to my bedroom. I laid on my twin bed, staring at the ceiling. How is it that I can play games with Cedric and then turn around and play the same game with Ronnie and get in trouble? To get out of this mess and to keep it from reoccurring, I learned that I better suppress my feeling especially about what I do or say and maybe my feelings don’t really matter.

  This was my beginning and the beginning of a long, flimsy, and rugged life because I didn’t know if I was actually gay, or if I was gay because everyone was telling me that I am.

  Chapter Four

  The home I grew up in was chaotic and dysfunctional, to say the least. Occasionally, my brother and I would come home from school and see my father choking my mother with her feet dangling at least six inches off the ground. We knew not to intervene because, on one occasion, we attempted to help our mother and dad took his anger out on both Robbie and me. Today, I still have a scar above my upper right eyelid as a symbol not to interfere with grown folk business.

  The drama played out like an old plot from the Young and the Restless. Dad would say he’s sorry, and Mom would forgive him until it happened again with the same script, different mood and different day. Albert Einstein once said that, “Doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results is the definition of insanity.” Insanity is certainly running rampant in the Williams household.

  Typically, things got worse when dad would come home drunk. When he drank, it was like a beast within was released, and everyone in his path felt the force of his wrath. Everything could go from zero to one hundred in a matter of seconds. To stay a few steps ahead of Dad, my brother and I devised a plan. Each night before we went to bed, we would set about ten glass soda bottles by the door. If Dad knocked them over, then he was drunk and staggering; we could expect anything to happen. However, if Dad didn’t knock the bottles over, he was sober, everything was going to be peaceful, and we could enjoy a good night’s rest.

  Knocking over the bottles would make a horrific sound. The noise would be unbearable and cause my brother and me to leap out of bed.

  It had been about three weeks without any significant drama in the Williams household.

  However, this particular night, Robbie and I decided to set up the bottle system, just as a test. We went to our bedrooms and went to sleep. Suddenly, blam! the door swung open, and the bottles fell on the floor. I jumped from under my covers, as I listened to Dad yell and cuss as he entered the house.

  “Where’s that bitch?” Dad said, yelling.

  Robbie and I began to look at each other in total horror. We could hear dad stumbling to the bedroom where Mom was.

  “Robert, I’m not in the mood for any of your foolishness tonight,” Mom said.

  “Bitch, are you disrespecting me!” Dad yelled. Then we heard a smack.

  “Stop, Robert!” she screamed.

  Robbie and I couldn’t do anything because we knew that he would kill us all if we tried to attack him. We walked out in the hallway so Dad could see us.

  “Dad, stop hitting her,” Robbie said.

  “If I don’t, then what?” Dad responded.

  “If you don’t, I’m going to go to Aunt Norma’s house and call the police. You’re hurting everyone!”

  Suddenly, as if words cut like a knife, Dad sat on the bed, and the assault stopped.

  “Robert and Darnell, go back to your room; everything is ok,” Mom said as she wiped her face. Seeing my mom crying made me want to throw gasoline on my dad and set his ass on fire, but I knew I couldn’t whip him, so Robbie and I went back to our bedrooms and got in bed and dozed off to sleep.

  About two hours later, Mom entered our room.

  “Robbie and Darnell, wake up. We’re leaving for good.” Mom whispered.

  “Where are we going?” Robbie asked.

  “I’m going to take you over to your G-Ma’s house while I get things moved. Just be quiet and don’t wake up your dad.”

  Robbie and I got out of bed, putting on our clothes and shaking in fear that Dad was going to wake up. We grabbed a few clothing items and ran to the car. Mom started the engine, putting the car in drive, and we quietly pulled out of the driveway. We turned onto Bexley Court and almost made it to the stop sign.

  Suddenly, the front door of the house flung open, and dad was running, chasing the car, wearing his jeans with no shirt or shoes. We were terrified. Robbie and I started yelling, “Go, Mom!”

  Mom pushed the accelerator, and we took off. Dad managed to jump on the trunk and was holding on. Mom managed to turn a corner, and Dad went flying off the car onto the hard surface of the street. He was yelling something, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying.

  Robbie and I turned back around in our seats looking ahead as we knew it was a matter of time before he came looking for us.

  * * *

  We arrived at my grandparents, safe and sound. G-Ma and Paw-Paw were waiting for us. Mom dropped us off as she went to find friends to help her move into a new apartment. My brother and I were disheartened because we wanted to help, but Mom asserted that we would only be in the way. She vowed to come to get us when she was done. G-Ma agreed that it would be better if we stayed with her.

  “I got my guns here, so if he comes around here, I’m going to kill him,” G-Ma said with a stern look on her face.

  Robbie went to spend the night a couple doors down at his friend Corey’s house. I was tired, so I crawled into G-Ma’s bed and went to sleep.

  Early the next morning, G-Ma decided to assist mom with moving so Paw-Paw and me were left together at the house.

  “Darnell, come watch the news with me,” Paw-Paw said.

  I didn’t understand all the political stuff, it seemed dull, but I knew that I did not want to be alone by myself. Paw-Paw was comforting me.

  “Don’t worry, Darnell, you are my grandson, and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Boom! Boom! Boom! Someone was beating at the door. It sounded like someone had set off a bomb. Paw-Paw jumped out of bed, grabbed his rifle, and went to the front door.

  “Darnell, you stay back here.”

  I was curious to see who it was, as I thought it might be my dad. I gently looked around the corner, and I could hear Dad and Paw-Paw chattering.

  “That bitch left me. She took everything, where is she?” he questioned Paw-Paw.

  “I don’t know where she is, and if I did, I wouldn’t tell you!” Paw-Paw said with force.

  I stepped out in the hallway to see the commotion.

  “Darnell, come with me right now!”

  “Darnell, go back and watch the news as I told you,” Paw-Paw said.

  I was confused and didn’t know which direction to go in because Dad is crazy. All of a sudden, my dad pushed Paw-Paw to the side, walked in the house and grabbed me. I thought to myself, we are finally going to be a family, after all. My dad wants to be with me, and now I want to be with him. Maybe he’s changed? All we have to do is find Mom and Robbie. Everything is going to be ok. Maybe Dad missed us and is changing his ways. I am so happy with Dad.

  “Open the door and get in!”

  Dad drove an old Ford Pickup truck, all white with a flatbed in the rear. The cabin could seat about three people. I hopped in as directed. Dad started the engine and didn’t say anything. I didn’t say anything either.

  When we arrived at our house, I got out and walked toward the front door. Dad was taking a long time. I looked back and noticed him folding down the seat in the cab. I saw him reach for something, then suddenly I saw the shadow of his double-barrel shotgun. Why is he getting that? I thought to myself.

  Once inside, I noticed that all the furniture was gone. My bedroom, my toys, my special little box was all gone. I
felt disappointment, because I wanted us to be together as a family. All of Robbie’s items were gone, all the living room furniture as well as all the clothes were gone.

  Dad harshly grabbed me by my shoulders. “OK, you little faggot, you got three minutes to tell me where your mother is, or I’m going to kill you.”

  My feeling of happiness subsided to terror and utter fear. My thoughts became scattered, confused and perplexed. “Dad, I swear, I don’t know!”

  “Tell me now, or I’m going to shoot you!”

  I begin shouting and crying as I observed him loading his gun.

  “Tell me you faggot, where is she,” he shouted.

  “Dad, I promise I don’t know!”

  He cocked his gun and pointed it to my head. All I can remember is looking down the chambers of a double-barrel shotgun pleading for my life.

  “You keep coming between my wife and me. She loves you more than me, and you’re the reason she left!” He began twirling his gun like a majorette twirling a baton. Suddenly, he stopped and looked me dead in the eyes. “Where is she, faggot?”

  I recognized the look; it was the same look he gave me last Christmas when I got a whipping for asking for a pair of high heel shoes and lipstick. Fear engrossed my entire body. “Dad, I promise, I don’t know.”

  He took the gun and turned the barrels in his direction. I thought he was going to shoot himself. However, he took the butt of the weapon and struck me on my forehead. I could feel wet stuff running down the side of my face. I wiped it and saw that it was blood. My head was lacerated, and dad was yelling at me, trying to figure out where mom was. However, I simply did not know.

  “Dad I don’t know, please don’t hurt me!” I said, sobbing.

  Dad noticed the telephone, dialed a number and turned on the speaker.

  “Fred, where is Candace?” he yelled.

  “I don’t know where she is, and if I did, I wouldn’t tell you,” he said.

  “I’ve got Darnell right here with me, and if you don’t tell him, I’m going to kill him dead. Tell him, faggot!”