Bridges: burn them or build them?

It was about two weeks past my Mom’s birthday and I spent those two weeks back in the hood. After a while I could barely stand it. Going to the neighborhood high school and dealing with all the questions and lowlands attitude. Kids that wished I never came back casting a Sherwood Forest worth of shade and wishing I cared. I knew I was there too long when I started hitting on my old drama teacher. He reminded me of some of my clients. It was wrong and I knew it as soon as I started. After a couple of minutes I gave him an out. There was no one but us around and he could have let it drop or acted offended. But no he wasn’t offended he was interested and terrified. I didn’t mean to freak his freak but sometimes I can’t control my flirt.

“Ted could you hand me that wrench” he asked.

“Sure Mr. Greenwood, do you want the one for the big nuts or the small nuts?” I asked with a smile.

“The wrench on the table in front of you, please.” He said avoiding the dangerous territory.

“I just wanted to give you the right one for the job that’s all” I said still flirting.

[Did I just see him adjust his stance on the ladder?]

“So Mr. Greenwood did you miss me?”

“Yes I did Ted you always bring so much to the class when your here.”

“Wow Mr. Greenwood I didn’t know you cared.”

[Mr. Daryl Greenwood blushed like a school girl and that’s when I should’ve stopped, but of course I didn’t.]

“Mr. Greenwood you’re so cute when you blush like that.” [and with that the light red went to deep crimson and he wavered on the ladder.]

“Ted you shouldn’t say things like that to me, what if someone hears you?” He said looking around as he came down the ladder.

“Don’t care what these lowland neophytes* think about me. One day they’ll grow up and find out there is a whole world out there that doesn’t care one bit about high school and what they think.” I said a little smugly.

*I just learned this word about a month ago and I have been trying to slip it in wherever I can.

“‘Lowland Neophytes’ good one! But unfortunately I have to care what they think. Let’s go down to the audience and see if the lights are right.”

“OK, but all that still doesn’t mean you’re not cute to me.” I leaned in close and said.

He bent over to pick up the lighting layout and showed me his big butt. Let me say for the record again Mr. Daryl Greenwood was not the man of my dreams or in the top 25. He was one of about three gay adult men that I could clock at this dreary school. So flirting with him is supposed to go nowhere at all. But that was what I thought.

He hops off the edge of the stage and I follow him to row H seats 10 and 11.

“I thought you said never jump off the front of the stage?”

“I did, but maybe you bring out the rule breaker in me.” Mr. Greenwood said with a rye smile.

“Is that all I bring out in you?” I said and looked down at his crotch.

“What are you doing Ted Kingston? I’m thrice your age and your teacher.”

“Like that matters to me” and put my hand on his left leg.

He jumped like I shot him through with electricity.

“Ted please don’t do that, I might take it the wrong way” he said sweating between his bushy eye brows.

“and what is the right way, tiger?”

I really should stop here.

“That maybe you think you want to have sex with an old man like me.” He said in such a small voice I barely heard him.

I thought for a second and then I said in an equally small voice.

“Maybe I do”

And then I saw the jump and a small wet stain. Unfortunately he was wearing his traditional light khaki pants and showed like he had spilt syrup in his lap.

“I guess you do to.” I said looking down at the growing stain.

I handed him the hanky I always keep in my back pocket. He was completely shocked and took the hanky and dabbed at the stain.

“Pull your shirt tails out and it will look like your working hard until it dries.”

“I, I’m really sorry I don’t know what came over me. This has never happened before.” Mr. Greenwood stammered and handed me back my hanky.

I re-folded it and wiped his sweaty forehead and them smelled the hanky and smiled. He jumped again and knew it was spot number two.

“The lights look great. Think about it and maybe the idea will grow on you. I know other things have.” and looked down at his crotch and handed back the hanky. “I’ll get that back from you later” and I stood up and walked down row H.

Daryl Greenwood just sat there looking shocked as I left the small auditorium.

Maybe I went too far and maybe and maybe not. I walked over to the gym for my next class. I hate gym…. Once you say openly that you’re gay they should give you the choice to skip it or not. The str8 administration doesn’t know that it’s the one place that most sissies have their worst trouble. Good thing I can fake it when I need to. The locker rooms are even different here than at Hollywood. All the lockers are rusty, small and too close together. They are all this tired high school blue color and the wooden benches seem like their purpose in life are to give you splinters. The guys are even less interesting and I didn’t think that was possible. Well most of them, there are one or two that I could peak at for a minute or two. The Jackson twins are in the corner. [They have to take gym again since they got dropped from the football team for the terrible grades.] They are built like men but have the faces and minds of 15 year olds. Wow they even have identical hairy butt cracks! There is Gilbert Davis. I think he has the biggest dick in our school. You know us Mo’s talk. He just flops that monster out when he changes. Either his girlfriend La Tonya is happy or petrified. But my favorite kid in this class is Roger Johnson, RJ to everyone who knows him. He hates organized sports and loves journalism. I tell him he should try and go to a different school but he thinks he can’t. Sometime between the 9^th and 10^th grade summer his body had a totally major growth explosion. He is now hairy and muscular in a way he was not before. I noticed a while ago and strengthened our friendship more since. RJ is half Italian (mother) and half Black (father) and all 5’4” of FžIžNžE. But he is still too young for me to press, so for now it’s just fantasies and friendship. At least he’s smart enough to talk to.

“Hey RJ what’s it be like Yo?”

He turns around just as he is dropping his briefs. Timing is everything.

“Hey Ted everything’s, everything”

“You ready to use our brains to get out of another day of gym?” I said trying not to stare.

“You know it. What’s it going to be today bad ankle, pulled back…

“….. Maybe Teddy can say he’s on his period” said Ronald Jackson and almost everyone laughed. [I noticed Donald Jackson didn’t laugh, hmm]

“Wow Ronny* Gina was right you obsessed with eating red pie. Remind me not to drink after you, that’s nasty!” [Everyone said Ohhh.

“You just think it’s nasty because you don’t like girls.”

“Nah I…..

“He thinks it’s nasty because it is, get dressed and leave him alone” said Donald proving that he was the twin in charge again.

Everyone went back to dressing for gym class and I slipped out of my clothes quickly and dressed. Since I wore just regular male clothes here it was a quick change.

When we got out to the field I told Coach Raymond I had asthma and RJ said he pulled a muscle in his neck and we volunteered to walk laps. Coach said OK with his usual look that said “What ever you slackers.”

And RJ and I started our slow stroll around the track as the other separated for a flag football game.

Whew I dodged that bullet… I’ve got to get back to Hollywood soon this school could lead to only single syllable words. FAB-U-LOUS, FAB-U-LOUSI said to myself as we walk around the track. Whew still got it.

Can I Have A Good Day

While I was in the hall I heard Mr. Michael Chuy tell Mr. Mark Rockingham that he had a contest this weekend in Venice and did he want tickets. He didn't ask me I certainly wanted tickets. All day I thought about Mr. Chuy in his skin tight Lycia, doing jumps and stretches. Oh my god, he would be like totally hot. I would be a bit embarrassed to ask him about it since he didn't mention it in front of me. I don’t even have a class with him anymore that I go to the Los Angeles Performing Arts Academy (LAPAA). How will I find out the deal, I thought on my way to another boring Math class with Mr. Johnson. Well he’s not boring at all he’s pretty cool. As always it’s the other kids that drive me nuts. It’s supposed to be an advanced geometry class but a few of the parents pulled some strings to get their slow little darlings in there to make them look better for college. The rest of us have to wait for them every day because nice Mr. Johnson always asks after every lesson; did everyone understand what we did today or do you want me to go over it again; and there is always someone who wants him to go over it again. I can see if you have a question or you need some clarification. But there are a few kids that need the whole lesson explained more than once, even more than twice. Me being me, I couldn't take it a few times and I stood up in class and explained the lesson in my own words and then said to the kids in question; maybe you could ask your parents for a tutor so the rest of us can finish this math book before the end of days!?! Half the class loved it and the few acted as if I wasn't talking to them.

I know not everyone can be good in every subject. Heck, I have to have a dictionary with me whenever I write for creative writing class. I am a terrible speller. Mr. Johnson is just like his wife Mrs. Johnson who also teaches math here at Hollywood High. They both are patient and have a good outlook on life. They don’t have any kids. I wonder why?

Lunch was pretty cool; we had a concert by the Motels and one of our school bands Alabaster Night. We have like 9 bands that all the members go to this school. That chick from the Motels, as my aunt Gina would say, ‘that girl can sang!’ I stayed in the back. I didn’t feel like being crushed by all the band groupies. So I sat on the low wall facing the stage with a few of my school friends. None of my Street-Fam is in school anymore and they don’t want to talk about it, so we move on and let it fall.

We were just hangin’ back and enjoying the music and kee-keeing like we do when Rocky Tortuga walks up and says hey. I’ve known him since he and his sister Nicole came to our school in the 9^th grade. I always thought he was cute but I rarely press boys my own age. But he is a Stunner and he has a manly body with a deep sexy voice.

“Hey what’s happening people?” Rocky says just over the music.

“Nothing much just enjoying the sounds,” said my girl Beige

“So Ted I was wondering if I could hang with you?” and he made a hand movement to include the group.

“It’s cool with me, if it’s cool with everyone else.” (Trying to be my coolest self)

He looked around and the gathering and they all nodded in agreement. So he squeezed up next to me. Now I had heard from his sister that he was going to try and make some moves to ask me out or something. I told her that I don’t usually press with boys like, my own age but I like, liked him and would be open to a friendly hang with an option on some lips. She asked if she could use that line. I said sure I’ve got a million of ‘em. So when he walked up I knew the score before the game had even started.

The bands were cool but my favorite part is when the take a break and the D.J’s take over. That’s when I get to do my thing. I’m a dancer and that is where my soul lives. I know all the D.J’s that play at our school and they know me and the other dancers. We like it funky, who care what the other kids like. I feel like I’ve gotten so much bolder living on the street these last 4 years, I guess I had no choice. I look at Rocky and he already is reaching to hold my bag.

“May I hold your bag while you show them how it’s done?”

“Well usually I ask one of my girls but if you want to…”

“I would be honored, besides I love watching you do your thing.”

I will not blush, I will not blush!! “Hey I just do what I like.”

“Yes and you do it better than anyone else.”

He is making me embarrassed so I turn around and the “Beat-Kids” are already starting to throw some hair.

“OK, Rocky if you really don’t mind I would like to work out some new stuff.”

He smiles and bows deep and dramatic.

I’m just wearing cut up jean shorts, knee tights and a sleeveless t-shirt. I reach in my bag and grab a knee length black nylon trench-coat just to jazz up my out-fit. Rocky looked surprised but interested. On the way through the crowd I saw Nicole and kissed her on the cheek and pointed her towards her brother.

The kids were already starting to turn it. I own nothing so I never just run in, but as soon as Le Ron sees me I can tell that he wants to do one of the routines from class. I’d never do that if someone else didn’t start it. I like to do my own stuff. But what the heck it’s a good way to get loose.

We cut it up like we were made of the wind. I can see both Rocky and Nicole smiling in my direction. I guess today is a day and I give a triple turn to everyone else’s single and double.

Now I know it’s a good day.

Barry M. Wasserstein a.k.a. BMW Barry

I called Barry at the number I had for him, it turned out to be a service. A lot of my wealthier customers had them. So I left my number and a time for him to call me. Usually they call me first so I hoped the ghost ‘William Randolph Rapherty’ a.k.a Billy (more on him later) was right about Barry M. Wasserstein wanting to see me again or I would be colored embarrassed. The service was so polite and discreet it made me think again about using one for my own business affairs, maybe. “BMW Barry” as he called himself wasn’t supposed to call for about two and a half hours so I can do a little shopping before tonight, so if the date happened I will look good. School has been out for about fifteen minutes.

I got a note in my locker to meet Miss Clifford Tiberius Takahashi-Bennington a.k.a Cliff-a-tina by the phones on the East side after last class.

After he fell out with all his ghirlz at his now infamous seventeenth birthday party, when his pack got high on his coke and told a reporter from the local gay rag that they all hung out with Cliff-a-tina for the perks of his two gay dads and the legion of his older brother Rowley. I was there but all I said to the reporter was that I was having a wonderful time and thank you to the Takahashi-Bennington’s for throwing Clifford such a Fabu party. I knew not to trash him to anyone, especially on him own damn day. I always thought his ghirlz were trash and it was only a matter of time until they showed their collective stankin’ asses.

So after a devastating two week fall out with every one of those trashy hoes being called out by Cliff-a-tina and hur brother Rowley. There were much tears and apologies after they were cut off from every one of the ‘perks’ they so enjoyed.

There she is now. She is getting classier by the day.

Black you better think twice Italian suit,

Red tux shirt, French cuffs (2 ct diamond cufflinks),

Black leather custom made boots from England,

And a Black bowler

Go on ghirl!

“Hey Ghirl, what’s going on Ms. Thing? I haven’t seen you in a long minute.” said Cliff-a-tina.

[I wondered if she was going to come sniffing around me looking for a better class of friend.]

“Oh hey The Supreme Ms. Cliff-a-tina; ‘Da Distroya Worldz’ I don’t know if my fit is in shape enough to be in your Grand presence.” I said with a little smile.

“Is it that bad now?” Cliff said looking a little sad.

“Yes ghirl you are flattening your old children right and left.”

“Well there are things that have to be done.”

“Yes ghirl you are right and you and Rowley seem to be the royalty to do it.” I said.

“Rowley told me they were trash and just using me right after we all went to the spa at the hotel that time. You remember?”

“Yes ghirl that was fun but they acted like they were the Takahashi-Bennington children and everyone was fronting for them.” I said

“I know I over looked it hoping they were just being flash, but I guess it went to those tired bitch’s heads.”

I could tell he was bothered for being made to look like a straight fool on TV and in print. After the gay rags ran the story with a few bad quotes stuck in there the regular Entertainment media had a field day linking the trouble to Mr. Bennington. I heard he was pissed from Rowley, but didn’t let anyone outside of the family know.

“Hey ghirl you want to go out for dinner with Rowley and me Friday night? Rowley brought up your name and I think it sounds like a Fabu idea, dinner with someone who never tried to cut us. What do you think?” He was smiling at me hopefully.

How could I say no.

“Sure ghirl where and when? A Ghirlz night out might be fun. It is a ghirlz night out right, no BF or hangers, just the three of us?” I asked cautiously.

“Sounds great, how about we pick you up at 8pm at Franklin and Sunset?” Cliff-a-tina said.

“Oh ghirl you haven’t seen me in a real minute, I live off of Ivar in an apartment now”

“Avancer, ghirl, Avancer- give me the specs and we’ll collect you there.”

I gave him the address and touched cheeks and then he hugged me tight and said thank you. I was unbothered on the outside but on the inside I was like, Damn!

With that I strolled off to do some shopping before I have to be home for BMW Barry’s call.

__________________________________

He called on time like I thought he would and we decided he would pick me up in an hour to go to dinner.

I dressed in some of the new things and looked in the new floor to ceiling mirror squares the Sister’s had put up in my room the last time I went to visit the Rents. They take such good care of me, I feel blessed. I changed two more times to get the look just right. If I needed Barry to invite me home I need to look just Fresh.

He arrived 5 minutes late but I’m always late so who am I to complain. I was standing outside when he rolled up in a brand new 1980 black on black convertible BMW, what else. He was dressed to match the car. He jumped out and handed me a white rose and kissed me on the cheek then ran around to the passenger side to open the door for me. He seemed to fancy himself a gentleman and after our first date he knew that I liked that kind of thing. I climbed in and buckled up. Driving in LA was dangerous and I don’t want to die because of some persons bad driving.

“Hello Barry before we go we should talk about what we are doing” I said a little too seriously.

“OK what’s happening? I was happy that you called” said Barry all chipper.

“Well I called you so this is not really a paid date.”

“It can still be if you want I’m fine with that” he said looking ahead.

It’s always hard when people don’t say what they mean when asked.

“Well I wouldn’t mind if the date ended up in the same place as before” I said trying to lighten up the sitch.

“How about if I take us to dinner and you tell me why you called and then we’ll decide what is what then?”

Not bad Barry, I’m more impressed by your straight forward behavior I said to myself and just nodded to Barry. And with that Barry started his new car and left, right, left and another left and we were on the freeway going towards Santa Monica. I’m so glad I decided to wear my hair in two braids (one on each side with Rhinestone bobby-pins stuck in the braids).

My look was as follows;

Black silk shirt w/silver thread,

Black pinstriped suit vest,

Black slacks (that fit just so),

Black studded leather belt,

Black leather boots my cousin Gracie bought me for a present.

Yes I guess I matched the car as well without even trying.

Barry was smiling and humming along to a Bob Marley tune.

I pulled the passenger side visor down to make sure my hair was still tight and was almost thrown to see the ghost Billy sitting right behind me enjoying the ride. He shot me a big grin and a wink. I looked at my hair and smiled back and flipped the visor back. Ugh ghosts they never give up.

“Where are we going Barry?” I said trying not to think about ghost Billy in the back seat.

“You’ll see, I think you’ll like it” Barry said with a self satisfied smile.

“I hope this is not a snobby place that will look down their nose at me?” I asked but not really worrying.

“No, I’ve been there before and I’m betting you’re going to love it” Barry smiling over at me.

Even if I have been to this place I’m not going to let on to Mr. BMW.

“Did I tell you that you look wonderful tonight?” Barry said.

“Thank you sweet Barry, that is so nice of you to say. You look pretty cute yourself.”

The car swerved as Barry blushed…

“No more compliments until you are parked Mr.” and we both laughed.

I have to play this night perfectly to be able to make it back to Barry’s condo to try and get Billy’s crystal cage. Then I realized that I did really have to rush it tonight. I wasn’t on any tight schedule and Mr. smiling ghost in the back seat has all the time in world. So I reclined the bucket seat and enjoyed the good vibration of Bob Marley and the Melody Makers coming through the soft leather seat. I could get used to riding around in LUX with Mr. Wasserstein. Could I stand having Barry as a BF? Would he freak that I was 16 instead of whatever he thought I was. I don’t know, tonight might tell it all.

Barry looked over at me and smiled as he rolled up all the windows making a wind block in the car.

I hope he doesn’t freak…. What am I thinking I don’t want some guy for BF who could be a client, a rich client?

Love is great but I have to (as my Mother says) make those shekels.

A Weekend Away

I almost missed the stop for the Rent’s street thinking about the changes that could happen now that I have turned I turned 17. I guess all young guys think that every year older will make a big difference in their life. Street kids are no different. I’m one day closer to being 18 and maybe free. Even though I got emancipated at 16 it seems not to make that much difference for some things. Almost every adult treats me like a kid still. I say almost because of my clients. They treat me like a young man in his 20’s, but only because most of them don’t know how old I really am. I can think of a few that would lose their noodle. “Lose their noodle”, I heard someone say that the other day and I laughed so hard because I could imagine a brain made of noodles and it slithering away and getting lost. But it’s a strange enough phrase that I may use it for a while. I like to throw odd phrases in every now and again. Being 17 will be nothing more than another year, I bet. I told everyone that I didn't want a party or any kind of celebration. I said, “Save it until I turn 18. I’ll want to party for the whole month then.” That has seemed to work for most people so far. I’m going down to see my mom the day after just to side step any surprise parties. But when I get there my stepfather Robert Hamilton aka Bobby said she was in New York and would be back in a week. I asked how he was doing to be polite. Then I went down into my room to see if she left me a present or something.

Hold up, Wait a minute!!! –

There is a pile of presents on the couch in the corner. I look through the tags; cousin, + 15, Uncle Max, Uncle John-John, Uncle G, Uncle Eddie, Uncle Bobby- Cliff, Uncle Ronny, Uncle Benny, Aunt Lynn Rose, Aunt Daisy, Aunt Ronica (I’m the only one who can call her that), Aunt Patty Cake (she’s signed that name as this as long as I’ve been alive), Aunt Goergie Ann, Aunt Maryanne, Aunt Ruthie, (play) + their various wonderful spouses and families, Sister Dimeetra, (play) Sister Anna, (play) Sister Michele, (play) Brother Green (I can’t believe he came to my parent’s house. He must have been scared to death.) I look at all the packages and there were a few from Lynwood High, my other high school. My cousins Antoinette, Antoinéé and Antoine must have brought them from school.

I love my family most of the time.

OK I see nothing from my mom.

The door opens and it’s my stepfather Bobby.

“So you weren’t around for your birthday?” He says looking at the Parliament Funkadelic poster on my wall.

“Naw remember I said I didn’t want any kind of celebration this year.”

“Well sometimes the party is for the other people and not the person who it’s for” He said kind of quietly.

“I know but I couldn’t handle it. You know this family, we can’t do anything small” I said trying not to feel guilty about my decision.

“Well some of them came over anyway. Your Uncle Ben seemed a little hurt you weren’t here. You should call him.”

Why is Bobby being sensitive? He always acts like he can take or leave my extended family.

“Yes sir I will call all of them to thank them for whatever is in these boxes.” I said remembering to be respectful.

“Did my Mother leave a card or anything for me?” (I would never ask Bobby Hamilton for a birthday present. That would be like asking the devil for a warm hug.)

“Here boy, Happy Birthday” He said handing me an envelope.

I tore it open the find a card and a check for $200.00. I read the card and then I knew it was from him not her. She always writes a bunch of junk about me being her son and how much they love me and then she signs his name. I know my mother signature like I know my own. It was signed by my stepfather. The same guy who broke my jaw (8), arm (11) and knocked out my tooth at 14. Why would he do this? I almost gave it back to him. But I wasn’t here to fight.

“Thank you this is very nice but way too much, Sir,” I said holding the check up.

“It’s not from me it’s from your Momma,” he said looking away.

“Oh really, please thank her for me, when she calls,” I said trying even harder not to start something with him.

I knew he was lying. He knew I knew.

“I will, I’ll talk to her tomorrow night.”

I turned away to my stereo and pushed play on the cassette and out of the speakers came –“Dr. Funkenstein"
Whoa!
They say the bigger the headache, the bigger the pill, baby
Call me the big pill
Dr Funkenstein
The disco fiend with the monster sound
The cool ghoul with the bump transplant”

As the music played Bobby stepped back and closed the door.

I started dancing and the tears ran down my face.

Why do I ever come back here?