Birth of a Dark Nation Read online

  "This yo fam?" he asked.

  "Yup, I can point them out later. Let me show you the bathroom now and get that shower going."

  I led him down the hallway toward my room but stopped short at the linen closet. I grabbed spare towels and washcloths and held on to them. I then turned the corner and entered my bathroom, turning on the light and ensuring that there was enough soap and shampoo there for him.

  "I think you got everything now," I said, turning to leave. He grabbed my arm.

  I turned back around.

  "What's up?"

  "I don't have everything I need," he said.

  "Oh," I said softly. He pulled me close to him and looked down at my body, still caked with blood-red body paint and stained with sweat. Neither of us had put our shirts back on.

  "You look so fuckin' good," he said.

  "Thank you. Your body is amazing."

  "Thank you." He grabbed my face, closed his eyes, and kissed me on the lips.

  I held him at his sides and kissed him back. I felt like a brittle doll made out of clay. Our bodies rubbing against each other through the dried body paint felt unnatural.

  "I'll start your shower," I said. I let him go and turned on the hot water, then the cold, then the showerhead.

  "Thank you," he said. I turned my head as he began to take off his shorts. I began to wash my hands (which I should have done before touching the clean towels-dummy) and I looked at myself in the mirror. I was a fright. Too bad we didn't take any pictures.

  "Justin."

  "Yeah?"

  "Whatchu waitin' for?"

  I looked at Dante, who had stepped into the shower and had leaned back to look at me through the side of the curtain.

  "I'm not waiting for anything," I said. I was confused by his comment.

  "Then why you not in here with me?"

  "You want me to shower with you?"

  "Yeah…please."

  "Aight," I said, nodding. I slowly dropped my shorts to the floor next to his and climbed in behind him in the shower. I couldn't help it—seeing his thin, narrow body in the shower directly in front of mine gave me an instant erection. The red paint rolled off his body under the force of the water, leaving behind dark, brown, and wet muscle.

  He backed up onto me, rubbing his ass on my erection. I hugged him from behind and rested my chin on his shoulder, next to his still-red dreadlocks. I didn't realize until that moment that I was actually taller than him. I was taller and I was bigger. The entire time, I had the physical advantage against him. For what reason would I have to be remotely intimidated by him, as I often felt?

  I knew why. His personality was six feet tall. His masculine aggressiveness commanded a room, or a park, or whatever space he inhabited at that moment. Whatever he even remotely suggested felt like a demand to me. And I was totally smitten by him.

  He grinded his ass on my erection and asked me if I liked it. I did. I told him so. He grinded on me harder. My arms embraced him from behind and traveled down his torso. I cupped his erection and was pleasantly surprised at its length and its girth.

  "Justin," he moaned.

  "Yeah," I whispered in his ear.

  "Can you help me wash this red shit out of my hair?"

  "No doubt," I said. I grabbed the shampoo from the caddy in my shower and squirted copious amounts in my hands. I rubbed them together and then started working it into his long locs. He took the shampoo from me and did the same until his head was a massive mushroom of white foam. He closed his eyes and relaxed while I took my time scratching his scalp and working the dye out of the locs.

  I stood back and let him rinse the suds from his head until the last remnants of the red dye drained down the tub and the water was clear. Dante wiped the water out of his eyes and faced me, his erection still rock hard.

  "Let's…uh…" I began.

  "Finish up in here?" he asked.

  "Yeah… Expeditiously."

  We lathered up and scrubbed vigorously, making sure every last bit of dye was off our bodies. He turned the water off and I hopped out first, grabbing towels and tossing them to him, one for his hair and another for his body. There was still one left for me.

  Before I was even the least bit dry, he began kissing me again. He threw his towel onto the hallway floor and I led him into my bedroom. I fell into my bed and Justin pushed me down, his mouth barely leaving me.

  "Justin," he said, in between kisses to my face and neck.

  "Yeah, man?" I said back. He stopped and stared deeply into my eyes.

  "You smell…so…fucking…good!"

  He kissed me on my lips, and then my neck, inhaling deeply.

  That's weird, I chuckled to myself.

  "Zestfully clean, baby," I said. We flipped over and his still damp dreadlocks made a halo around his head on the bed.

  "Justin," he said again.

  "Yeah?" I looked into his eyes.

  "I want you," he said.

  "I want you, too," I smiled.

  "I want you to fuck me. Right now."

  "I want to fuck you right now," I repeated. I spread his legs and lifted them over my shoulders as he held on to my sides.

  "Wait, I need to go get a condom and lube," I said, letting his legs slide down.

  "You don't need a condom," he replied. "Just lube."

  "I don't need a condom," I repeated without thinking. "Just lube."

  I reached in my drawer and grabbed the tube of lube as well as a handful of condoms. I shook my head. What was I thinking?

  "I always use condoms, babe. Don't know what I was thinking." I unrolled the Magnum onto my erection, smoothed some lube over it, and rubbed some into Dante's hole.

  When I looked into his eyes, he looked puzzled.

  "You okay?" I asked.

  "Yeah. I'm good. Now fuck me."

  I slowly slid my penis inside his tight hole. He let out a slow growl as I adjusted myself inside him. He grabbed onto me tightly.

  "Goddamn, you so big," he said. I grinned on the outside but was high-fiving myself on the inside.

  We fucked for a really, really long time. Dante was full of tricks, from the reverse cowboy to some shit I'd never done that must have looked like a giant crab. I worked that ass like there wasn't going to be a tomorrow.

  It all came back to my favorite position though: face-to-face with me on top. Those final few thrusts were magical. We looked at each other eye to eye the whole time until I came inside him (and safely in my condom). At the precise time that my body spurt my kids out, he shivered and came in white torrents on his own chest, completely untouched by me or his own hands.

  I felt like a king. I'd never made anyone come just by fucking. It typically didn't work like that between men except in pornos. But hell, if it worked for Dante, it for damn sure worked for me.

  Shortly after it was over, I fell asleep. Dante crawled next to me and dozed off as well.

  Moments later, or maybe even an hour, I couldn't tell, I was awakened to Dante kissing my neck passionately, over and over in the same spot. It felt good at first, then it started to hurt.

  "Dante," I said, caressing his hair. He continued kissing and biting my neck.

  "Dante," I said again. He bit harder.

  "Dante, stop it," I said, pulling away sharply.

  "Oh… My bad," he said. I looked at him once more. He looked genuinely sorry and I immediately felt bad.

  "It's okay," I said. "Just started to hurt a little."

  "I won't hurt you again," he said. "I'm sorry."

  "I said it's okay," I reiterated. I pulled him next to me and continued caressing his still damp hair.

  He was a weird one, but I liked him. I never expected to be in this much control of him in the bedroom, but it was an arrangement I could learn to love.

  Resignation

  So, Cissy quit.

  We really should have seen it coming, especially with the slap in the face that was Ernie's absence at the happy hour. Though it did raise a few hundred dollar
s—more money than we would have received without it.

  Steve and I were upstairs in my office bullshitting when it happened. I could hear Cissy raising her shrill voice first, then Ernie's deep bass rising in volume. Steve's eyes grew big and we both tiptoed toward the stairs to hear the argument better.

  "Oh, that's rich!" Cissy shouted. "You expected me to work miracles when you won't even show me the fucking budget? Why won't you or LaJwanne coming off that information?"

  "That's LaJwanne's domain as the finance director, not yours."

  "The budget, Ernie? Really? I can't see the budget?"

  "I don't need to show you the budget for what I need you to do."

  "I am the director of development! I am not only supposed to know the budget, I'm supposed to be able to tell you whether or not we can even reach the goals you set. This is a leadership position and we're supposed to collaborate on these things. Now how in the hell do you expect me to raise those kinds of dollars in the next fiscal year?"

  "That's not my problem, sweetie. I've already taken the load off your plate by getting grant writers for the government grants. You're supposed to be out here making the relationships."

  "How many dossiers have I researched for you? How many of Washington's richest people have I created profiles for? You know where these people are. I've given you practically everything but their social security numbers, but you won't do the work! You won't follow through! You come to work—sometimes—and just sit in your office all day doing nothing, expecting the money to just rain down from heaven. I can't do everything, Ernie."

  "Then maybe you need to find another line of work. You only have one directive in this office and that's to raise money. And I've given you a lot of freedom to do that, but I can see that you can't."

  "Now wait just a goddamn minute. I've busted my ass for this organization for the better part of a decade. You can't tell me I don't know development. If there's one fucking thing I know about the nonprofit sector, it's development."

  "Watch your mouth."

  "No, you watch your mouth. I am tired of this shit, tired of it! I am sick of working for a talentless, uncreative, unconnected, lazy executive director who won't do the minimum that the job requires. And I'm tired of you giving away these contracts to grant writers who are your friends and aren't nearly qualified to do what's required. Ernie? I quit. I quit this fucking job so hard."

  "Alright then, peace be with you."

  "And peace be with you, you lazy bastard. And by the way? Your breath smells like ass."

  I hollered. Steve hollered. Ernie surely heard us. We hurried down the stairs to see Ernie retreating into his office and slamming the door. Cissy had an empty cardboard box and threw her personal effects into it. Tears were streaming down her face.

  "Wait, this is for real?" I asked. Cissy nodded and Steve immediately went to her. She sobbed while he held her.

  "I just can't do it anymore," she wailed. "He just…won't let any of us be great. We could be doing so much here…"

  "I know, I know," Steve comforted her. "It's okay."

  He stroked Cissy's hair as she wiped her eyes.

  "But what are you gonna do now?" I asked. Cissy shrugged.

  "I don't know. But anything's got to be better than this. Justin, promise me that you won't get stuck here. Steve and I, we're no spring chickens anymore. But you? I know you have it in you to be more than your job title. Go back to school, get a master's. Find an executive leadership program. Something. But don't stay here. This is a dead end."

  I nodded vigorously.

  Steve and I helped Cissy to her car. I didn't know what else to say other than goodbye. It all happened so fast.

  "Well champ, that leaves us. The only two people at Magdalene with any goddamn sense."

  "This is crazy," I said. "It's just been us against the world for so long. I can't believe she's gone."

  "Life is more than a paycheck, Justin. You know that."

  I nodded. Steve and I stood on the porch in silence for a few minutes. A Metrobus stopped in front of the Masonic hall across the street. Once it pulled off, I saw Dante walking toward Thayer Street. He glanced over at me, kept walking, then stopped and glanced again. He raised his hand in the air and smiled. I forced a smile and a wave back. He beamed.

  My life was filled with constants like paychecks and bills, but I had taken for granted that the sector in which I worked could change at the drop of a dime. I began this work because I cared about people. I didn't want to be a cog in a machine. I wanted to use my expertise to somehow change the sector for the better. But I was stuck, just like everyone else around me. The only way out was to get unstuck; to realize that the only constant could be change itself.

  Cissy was gone. Steve and I were left behind to pretend as though she never existed, still concealing from Ernie that we held him in little esteem, even while we knew in our hearts that he was doing his hardest to topple the organization from the inside. We couldn't prove it, and now his biggest critic had taken herself out of the game. We couldn't trust the board of the directors to do the right thing.

  It was just me, Steve, and our paychecks until we found something better.

  "You okay, my dude?" Steve asked, as I watched Dante turn the corner and disappear up the street.

  "We gotta do better, man," I said. "All this is changing around us."

  "How we gonna do better?" he asked.

  "I dunno. Stop being complacent. Start fighting."

  "Fighting for what? The clients? The best we can do for them is send them someplace else."

  "Fight for something better than what we got. I don't know. That's all I got…right now."

  Steve touched my shoulder and rubbed it, nodding with understanding.

  Something sparked in me that day, the beginnings of an epiphany. That I was meant for more than the life I was living. Somehow, I was going to figure out what was next.

  I walked to Dante's house after work, energized and dying to talk to somebody about it. I knocked on the door and he opened it moments later.

  "Hey man!" I said.

  "Hey!" He hugged me tightly.

  "So, my coworker quit today. Cissy. The white lady?"

  "Yeah, I remember you telling me about her. What happened?" He closed the door behind me and I put my bag on the sofa while I paced.

  "It's a long story. I mean, it's not that long a story, but it's not very interesting."

  "Oh…okay…"

  "Yeah, I just wanted to come talk to somebody because I was just thinking, you know? Like…I have a college degree. I have a degree from Syracuse. I should be able to do a lot with that, right?"

  "Seems like it to me," he said.

  "Right! And like, I might not be a director, but I know a little something about a few things. I've made programs. I've recruited volunteers. I should be able to go out there and work someplace else, right?"

  "Sure," he said. "I always thought you were pretty smart."

  I stopped pacing and smiled.

  "Thank you," I said. I began pacing again.

  "So, I don't know, maybe I should stop being scared and, you know…do something."

  "Like what?" he asked, sitting on the sofa.

  "I don't know! All I know is computers and whatever else needed to be done for Magdalene. But maybe there's more. Maybe I should go to grad school. Get a certification. Or, you know, maybe start up my own shit!"

  "Why don't you have a seat?" he asked.

  "Naw, I'm good," I said.

  "I think you need to have several seats, actually."

  "Why?"

  "You're pacing a hole in my floor, that's why."

  I smiled and sat down next to him on the sofa.

  "Better?" I asked. He smiled and cuddled up next to me. He held my hand, kissed it, and calmed me down.

  "Now, what is it that you actually want to do? Generally."

  "I want to help people," I said.

  "Do you know how?" he asked.

  "I'm
not sure yet. I want to help the sick, that's fine. But I really want to help people who don't have resources. People in poverty. People who left school. I just want everybody to have a chance, you know? Shit happens, but people don't need to be punished for it for the rest of their lives."

  "Sounds good to me," he said. He kissed me lightly on the temple.

  "Just take a breath, slow down, and think about what you want to do. I'm here for you."

  "I appreciate that," I said, kissing him back. "I didn't interrupt you when I came over, did I?"

  "Well…"

  "I can go, it's no problem."

  "No. Don't go. I was working out back. But you can come help. Or watch. Whichever."

  "I'll help. No problem."

  We walked through his house, through the kitchen and the back door, and down the rusty iron stairs leading to the backyard.

  The yard was enclosed by a tall wooden fence on all sides. There was no way you could see from outside just how large the space was. The vast majority of it was a garden. A gravel driveway led to the basement garage.

  Dante led me through an old, sad looking trellis with ivy growing up it. The garden was divided into several lanes. It all looked green to me, but Dante had a ball explaining what exactly he was growing.

  "Okay, over there you got some carrots, you got some chard. We got a whole row of peppers over on that side. Some chili peppers, bell peppers. All nice and colorful, right? Onions and radishes over here. That row there? Berries. Nothing but berries. And way in the back are a few avocado trees."

  "And what's right here?" I asked, pointing off to my left at a wild looking patch of shrubbery that didn't even seem like part of the garden.

  "Oh, those. They're just herbs."

  "Just herbs?" I repeated.

  "Yeah, they don't have a name. Anyway, you like it?"

  "Yeah, it's cool," I said. "This keeps you pretty busy, huh?"

  "Yeah man. It's fun, though. Relaxing, too. You'll see. Hey, grab some extra gloves off the porch, let's get started."

  I grabbed the work gloves and helped my man weed his garden and harvest some radishes.

  "Where did you learn how to do this?" I asked.

  "Family," he said, throwing a radish in the basket he asked me to hold.