Secret Society (5 page)

T
he alarm clock went off at exactly five-thirty. I was definitely not used to waking up that early. I had to force myself out of bed. Tina was already in the shower. I ate a bowl of cereal and got dressed. Tina was ready at six sharp, bags packed and everything. I found myself rushing, trying to be out of the house on time to get her to the airport by seven.

“Does he have all of your flight information?” I asked as we drove through the empty early morning streets.

“Yeah,” Tina said.

“I’m gonna miss you!” I whined.

“I’m gonna miss you too, girl, but I gotta get out of here,” she said.

“I know.”

“That’s all right, because I’m gonna be sending for you like every other weekend.”

“Then I’m gonna be forced to deal with Terry,” I said with a frown.

“I don’t know why you don’t like Terry, he’s perfect for you,” Tina said.

“He’s OLD and BALD,” I exclaimed.

“Yeah, but he’s rich and he gets down the way you do.”

“But that’s the problem. I need a man, not a bitch. I’m the bitch.”

“What do you mean?” Tina quizzed.

I looked at Tina with confusion in my eyes. “I didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Terry likes it up the butt.”

“Oh, my God! No, you didn’t tell me!”

“Girl,
I
was fuckin’
him
!” I explained.

“Oh, my God!” Tina laughed.

“That’s the only way he could cum. I begged him to put it in me, but he wasn’t into that,” I explained.

“Um, um, um. Well, I’m glad Derrek ain’t like that.”

Tina’s face looked a lot better, but she still had bruises. She was wearing a pair of big Gucci glasses to cover her eyes and the tops of her cheeks. Her top lip was still swollen but a whole lot smaller than what it was in the hospital. She acted as if the incident with Chris didn’t bother her, but I knew it did. I didn’t try to beat anything out of her, though. I just decided to be there for her.

“Awww, take care of yourself,” I moaned as I hugged Tina tight.

Tears were forming in my eyes. Even though Tina wasn’t going to be gone forever, the thought of her leaving me here in Philly to fend for myself was scary, especially with all the drama that was going on.

“Don’t you dare cry. We gonna be on the phone every day like normal,” Tina said. “And we gonna see each other at least twice a month, I swear,” she continued.

I gave Tina one last hug and watched her walk off into the airport. I got back into my car and drove off. I was on my own.

Tina called me as soon as she got to L.A. to let me know she was safe. Derrek was happier than a cat in a birdcage to have her there with him for such an extended period of time. He got on the phone and joked that I better get on the plane and come out there too because Tina was never coming back. I just giggled.

With Tina gone, I had a lot of time to think. There were no parties, concerts, or bars to distract me. Tariq was out of my life, so I had no cuddle buddy, and O was busy getting high and sellin’ dope. He was at a point where he was moving sixty thousand pounds a week. He had money in five states and twelve cities. He had houses in Delaware and one in Jersey, a town house in D.C., and a loft in New York. I was sure he had girls in all of those places too, or maybe boys, who knew? But I didn’t care. He was paying all my bills and maintaining my wardrobe. I couldn’t complain.

I spent one Sunday afternoon reminiscing and putting things into perspective. I got up out of my king-sized poster bed and dragged my feet across my mink rug. I went into my walk-in closet and retrieved some photo albums from an old suitcase I had hiding behind all my clothes. I pushed a pile of shoes to the other side of the closet and sat in the middle of the floor. The first album I opened had pictures of me when I was just a baby. Times my mom and dad took me to the zoo and the circus or just times we all spent at our house. There were pictures of me in the bathtub, taking my first steps, all the way up to me on my first bike. I just smiled at the sight of myself so young and innocent. Those were the days, I thought, when life was so simple, when my mom and dad were happily married, before I started messing shit up. It made me cry.

I wished I could go back to those days. Nobody even knew I was gay, except for my dad, according to my mom. She said my dad knew something was wrong when I started having more girl friends than guy friends and when I showed a strong interest for fashion. She claimed that was the reason he left us. I’ll never forget the day she told me that.

The week after graduation I had made up my mind about dressing up, which meant I had to come clean to my mom about being gay. I went downstairs to the kitchen where she was making dinner. I took a seat at the little round wooden table. My mom ignored my presence, as she did most of the time after my father left. I picked up an apple from the fruit bowl that sat in the center of the table and asked my mom to pass me a knife so that I could peel it. That was my way of getting her attention. She didn’t pass me the knife. Instead she told me to get it myself because she had to turn the chicken that was frying. I got up and went over to the drawer. I took a knife out, rinsed it off, and returned to my seat at the table. All the while my mom was standing in front of the stove, not once looking at me. I told her that I had something important to talk to her about. She turned around with a disgusted look on her face and asked what was it.

“Mom, you know my friend Tina, right?” I began.

“Yes, Charles, what about her?” my mom asked in a frustrated tone of voice.

“She’s really a guy, Mom,” I revealed.

My mom’s face frowned up. She asked, “Charles, what are you talking about? I’m trying to cook dinner here. And Sister Anna is coming to pick me up at seven for Bible study, so I really don’t have time for foolishness.”

On that note I decided to get it over with.

“Mom, I’m gay and I want to start living my life as a girl like Tina does.”

My mom had a look on her face that I will never forget. It was an expression of anger mixed with confusion.

“Charles, do you know what you just said to me?” she asked.

I nodded my head yes.

“You sound crazy. Don’t you know that God will punish you for this?” she asked.

“Mom, there is no proof of that,” I said.

“No proof? Son, it is in the Bible. What more proof do you need? God intended for it to be man and woman. Not man and man! And the fact that you want to change your sex? That’s taking it overboard. You might as well slap God across the cheek with your bare hands!”

“I’m telling you this because you’re my mother and I need your support,” I whined. “Not so you could judge me.”

My mom turned back around to face the stove. “No son of mine will sleep with other men. And no son of mine will live his life as a woman,” she mumbled.

“So what are you saying, Mom?”

“I’m saying that I won’t approve! As long as you’re under my roof, you will be Charles, the boy God made you, and you will not have dealings with other men!” she shouted.

“Well, Mom, I made up my mind, and if that means I have to go live with Dad, then that’s what I’ll do,” I said.

My mom turned to face me again. She looked into my eyes. “Do you think your father would have you in his house looking like a woman? If it was up to him, you would have been sent away a long time ago,” she said.

“What do you mean, I would have been sent away?” I asked.

“Why do you think your father left? He knew you were gay all along. He wanted me to send you away to boarding school or somewhere. I’m the one who defended you. I swore to him that you were just going through a phase. We had many arguments over it, Charles. And eventually your father put his hands up. He walked out on us because of you, Charles. And now, ten years later, you come and tell me he was right! I lost my husband defending you, and you prove me wrong…”

When my mom told me that, I was so hurt and so ashamed. I felt unwanted and unloved. I remember being suicidal for a while after that day in the kitchen with my mom. It was then that I packed up my stuff and left my mother’s house. Tina let me move in with her.

Transitioning was difficult for me at first. Not the dressing-up part, dressing like a girl was so comfortable for me it took no time to get used to. But all the miscellaneous stuff threw me for a loop. Tina taught me that living as a woman took more than fashion and attitude. It took discipline and a hell of a lot of money. We first had to get several surgeries, which we needed money to pay for. That’s why Tina took me down Twelfth Street on a Friday night and introduced me to trickin’. I was in complete shock that night. There were all these gay guys posted up on various corners, some dressed like thugs, others dressed like girls. There was a heavy flow of traffic too. Cars were riding through continuously, stopping and picking up tricks. I was scared as hell the first night out there. I thought somebody was going to try to kill me, or an undercover was going to lock me up. Tina told me that I watched too much TV, and she assured me I would be fine. She said she had been working those corners since she was sixteen and nothing like that had happened to her or anybody she knew.

At that time it was obvious I was a guy and I was concerned that men wouldn’t pick me up, but to my surprise more men wanted me than wanted Tina. And even more surprising, they were usually older, married men. In fact, my first, the man who broke me in, was married. I’ll never forget him. His name was Ty. I offered to suck his dick like I did with every other guy that pulled up on me, but he insisted I let him fuck me. I explained to him that I was a virgin, but he was still with it. He said that turned him on even more. He was real gentle with me and despite the pain, I liked it—a lot. You can say I was turned out after that and not only by the sex, but by the money as well. He paid me three hundred, which was big change compared to the fifty to seventy-five I was used to getting off head. Ty was real cool, though. He showed me pictures of his kids and all. His oldest daughter was named Celess, which is how I got my name. I felt bad at first. But after six months of being out there I developed an I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude. Besides, Tina and me had no intentions on being out there forever like those other transvestites and cross-dressers. We had plans—big plans.

It took every bit of six months to make the money we needed for our surgeries. By January 2000 we had silicone put in our chests, butts, and faces to get a womanly form. Tina had already been taking hormones, but I started on them after the surgeries. Ultimately, I had to change my diet, start exercising, and take all types of vitamins for my hair, nails, and skin. After about a year, I was a totally different person. I had gone through a lot, but I was definitely happier as a woman. I didn’t have to worry about being teased and looked at funny for being gay, like I had witnessed other gay men go through. I could walk around with a man and kiss him right in public without stares and hateful comments. That was probably the best advantage of dressing up.

I decided to call O after spending the whole day looking at old pictures, watching Lifetime movies, and crying. I finally got bored with myself. I wanted to get out of the house.

“Hey, O, it’s me. Hit me back, I’m tryna see you,” I said after the tone.

I waited for like an hour for O to call me back, and when he didn’t I realized that I was due for a new dude. Anytime I didn’t have a plan B, something was wrong. I got in the shower, threw on a royal blue and white J’adore sleeveless T, some Miss Sixty low riders, some royal blue stilettos, and a short royal blue leather jacket with cropped sleeves to my elbows. I grabbed my Dior clear-lens glasses and my blue Dior signature bag, and left.

It was a cool April night but nice. It was close to eleven o’clock. I went to Chrome nightclub on Delaware Avenue. It was somewhat packed. I peered through the crowd to see if I recognized anyone to socialize with. When I didn’t, I walked over to the bar and sat down.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

She was a tall white girl with long black hair that flowed straight down her back. She was very thin too. She looked like she could be a model.

“An electric lemonade.”

Sitting there in Chrome alone made me miss Tina so much. I was used to her being right there by my side on nights like that.

“Damn, shorty, what’s ya name?” a short, stocky guy asked.

“Naomi,” I lied, which meant I wasn’t interested.

“You fine as shit, what you drinkin’?”

The bartender placed my drink in front of me. I paid her and picked it up.

“This,” I told the guy as I extended the drink toward him.

“Well, I got ya next one, baby,” he said.