Abide with Me (30 page)

Raymond began to feel moisture on the back of his neck. He was nervous about meeting Miss Kitty. It was one of those things he still had a problem with, mainly because he didn’t know what to do or say when it came to the transgendered people he met, which weren’t that many. When he went to gay bars, he managed to avoid conversations with them, unless they were the bartender. Now he faced the possibility of assisting Peaches in bathing one.

“Five dollars, sir,” the driver said.

“What?” Raymond asked, coming out of his minitrance. He looked to his right and saw a red-brick, three-story walk-up next to a small grocery mart and a junk-filled vacant lot, followed by a continuous row of brick buildings, none higher than five stories.

“Pay the man, Raymond. Miss Kitty lives right there,” Peaches said, moving her head slightly to the right.

Raymond pulled a ten-dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to the driver.

“Keep the change,” he said.

“Merci beaucoup.”
The driver nodded toward Peaches, who was already halfway up the steps. “She tough, that one, no? She remind me of my own dear mother. Tough, but big heart, no?”

“Yes, sir, she has a really big heart,” Raymond said as he exited the car and ran to catch up with Peaches.

She turned around and said, “If you got so much money to throw away, then maybe
you
should buy the place.”

“Speaking of, when are we going to talk about your business? How long are we going to be here?”

“As long as Miss Kitty needs us. And let me warn you if you thought Kyle was a mess, well, you ain’t seen nuthin’ yet,” Peaches said as she passed the bag of soul food to Raymond and searched her purse for keys.

“What are you looking for?”

“Kitty’s keys.”

“You have apartment keys to the clients you serve?” Raymond asked incredulously.

“They ain’t clients. They my kids. They trust me, and I trust them,” Peaches said. She located a ring with several keys.

Raymond thought how committed Peaches was to the work she had started; the work he had promised Kyle he would support. But what kind of support had he given? A check now and again, versus the hands-on approach Peaches managed daily. He was brought up knowing that he owed his community much more than an occasional check. He could hear his father’s voice saying, “You’ve been lucky, Raymond. And you know that to whom much is given, much is expected.”

“I’m so glad this chirl lives on the first floor,” Peaches said as they entered a tiny tiled foyer. To the right was a stairway with badly worn carpet, leading to the upper floors. To the left was a maple door with tarnished brass numbers nailed to it that read “101.” Raymond noticed a stack of newspapers next to the stairs and a rust-colored wastebasket that held two umbrellas. Peaches placed a key in the door, turned it, then stopped. She looked at Raymond and said, “Brace yourself, child, you’ll live through this.”

“I’ll be fine,” Raymond said.

“You’d better be.” Peaches smiled, then opened the door and called out, “Miss Kitty. It’s me, your fairy godmama, Peaches.”

Raymond took a deep breath, exhaled loudly, and followed Peaches Gant, fairy godmama, into another world.

Peaches moved quickly once inside. She took the bag of food from Raymond and went straight to the tiny kitchen separated from the rest of the apartment by a wood-beaded curtain. She placed the food on the counter and turned the oven on. She turned on the spigots over the enamel sink and searched the cabinet under the sink for dishwashing liquid. Peaches hummed a gospel tune as she moved briskly about, heating the food and washing the dishes. She emerged back through the curtain of beads some minutes later to find Raymond still standing just inside the front door, looking about nervously.

“Raymond, baby. What are you doing—waiting on an engraved invite? C’mon in and sit down.” The room was dark and stale. Peaches walked over to the heavy drapes behind the sofa and pulled them open, letting a stream of bright sunshine into the room. Although the room appeared well kept, the light exposed a thin veneer of fine dust on the glass-topped coffee table and the hanging plants in front of the window.

“Give me a hand with these windows, Raymond. They always stuck!”

Raymond crossed the polished hardwood floor to the sofa and
forced both windows up. He gulped fresh air into his lungs as though he’d been holding his breath, then sat down on the sofa.

Peaches knew that the stuffy, sickly air reminded Raymond of Kyle’s last days. She had felt the same way the first time she visited Miss Kitty. She sat next to Raymond on the sofa and patted his knee.

“It’s okay, baby. Peaches knows. You collect yourself and I’ll go see if Miss Kitty is awake and presentable so you can meet her.”

Raymond loosened his tie and tried to relax. He leaned his head against one of the starched lace doilies that hid the worn spots on the rose-colored sofa’s cushions and armrests.

The room was Goodwill chic. The sofa and matching overstuffed chair, the ashwood end tables, the glass lamps, were all in good condition, but clearly recycled. But here and there, Miss Kitty had added cheery splashes of color. There were bright orange throw pillows on the sofa, and red, pink, and teal-blue scarves hung from a wooden coatrack near the front door.

A large steamer trunk that sat against the far wall boasted plump fuchsia cushions on top. The wall behind the trunk was covered with framed photographs. Some appeared recent, while others, Raymond surmised, were “pre-Kitty” photos. The most striking was of a somber-looking boy holding the hand of a tall, thin, brown-skinned man with a stingy-brimmed hat tilted rakishly to one side.

Raymond was listening to the soft sounds of gospel music coming from the bedroom when the door suddenly opened.

“Come on in and meet the lady of the house,” Peaches said.

Raymond searched Peaches’s face for some clue as to what awaited him on the other side of the door.

“Come on,” Peaches said, “she don’t bite!”

A large four-poster bed dominated the tiny bedroom. The only other furniture in the room was a nightstand covered with all shapes and sizes of prescription medicine bottles and a long chest of drawers with four Styrofoam heads on top. Three of the heads flaunted differently
styled and colored wigs. Someone had drawn faces on each head. One smiling, one frowning, one laughing, and one coquettish-looking face with lips puckered up for a kiss. The frowning head was bare.

“Miss Kitty, I would like for you to meet my dear friend Raymond Tyler.”

Miss Kitty was propped up on peach-colored satin sheets under a mauve comforter. A box of tissues lay alongside something Raymond hadn’t seen in years: a pink Princess phone with a rotary dial!

Miss Kitty did not look well. She seemed sunken into the red kimono robe, and the frowning-face auburn wig now atop her own head was off center. Her eyes were dark brown and solemn.

Her voice and mannerisms, however, were strong and brash.

“Raymond, is it? It’s absolutely divine to make your acquaintance. Peaches has told me so much about you. She said you was good-looking, but she didn’t say you were phine, baby,” Miss Kitty said as she tapped the bed with her ruby-red polished nails. “Please. Do have a seat.”

Raymond looked nervously around the room, to no avail, for another place to sit. “Here, sit here,” Miss Kitty said, patting her bed.

“I can stand,” Raymond said as he tried to manage a friendly smile.

“Well, suit yourself. I hear you’re going to help Miss Peaches save her place,” Miss Kitty said.

“I’m doing my best,” Raymond said.

“I just think they want her out so they can git rid of people like me. But they don’t know who they fuckin’ with, do they, Miss Peaches?” Miss Kitty said as she looked at Peaches.

“You got that right,” Peaches said. “You feel like eatin’ sumthing, baby? I made some ham hocks.”

“Yeah, make me a little plate while I sit here and talk to this man. I can’t tell you the last time I had a man in my boudoir, but that’s what got me in this mess anyhow.” Miss Kitty laughed.

“Are you taking the new drugs?” Raymond asked.

“Yeah, baby, I am when I can git ’em. They so expensive, though, and some of ’em make me sicker than I was before I started takin’ ’em.”

“Why are the drugs hard to get?” Raymond wondered aloud.

“They cost money, baby. And since Mommy can’t shake her groove thang and work, then I have to depend on my little disability check and Miss Peaches.”

“What kind of work did you do?”

“I’d do a little hair every now and then. And I did some of my good-good girlfriends’ taxes, ’cause Mommy was good at math, but mostly I was a performer. You know, impersonations. My favorites were Patti LaBelle and Tina Turner. Honey, I would work the kids’ last nerve when I was in my prime. I gave them fever,” Miss Kitty said in a high and pinched voice. She clapped her hands and clearly was enjoying the memory.

“I bet you were something else,” Raymond said as he sat on the edge of Miss Kitty’s bed. Her laughter had made him feel more comfortable.

While Peaches prepared Kitty’s plate, Raymond learned her history. Miss Kitty had been born in Columbia, South Carolina, and christened Kendall David Summerhill. Kendall had moved to New York when he was sixteen, after he was nearly beaten to death by a local football player who had unknowingly fallen for Miss Kitty’s beauty and charm, without knowing the young Miss Kitty was actually Kendall.

Miss Kitty told a story of young love gone bad.

“I used to dress up in my sister’s clothes and go downtown, away from my neighborhood, where nobody knew me. I would put on some of her best outfits and underthings and one of my mama’s many church wigs. I would put the things in my book bag, catch the bus, and go to the Greyhound bus station and change. That’s where I met
Steven, and for almost a year, we would meet. He had no clue what I was packin’ between my legs.”

Raymond couldn’t resist a question. “So I guess you guys weren’t intimate?”

“Child, yeah, we were intimate. That’s why he tried to kill Mommy. I would tuck my stuff real tight between my legs and when Steve would feel down there it felt just like pussy. And since we would always be in the car, and it would be at night, he never knew. That is, until I got silly and let him go too far.”

“So he was pretty mad, huh?”

“You ain’t said nuthin’. But I packed up my beat-up face and I went back to that Greyhound bus station and caught a bus to New York City, to become a star, darling! And I was.”

“What did your parents say?”

“Those country-ass, low-life mutherfuckers didn’t have a chance to say nuthin’. After I was nearly beaten half to death, my daddy, who always smelled like he had fallen into a liquor well, tried to kill me too. Tellin’ me what a disgrace I was. I wasn’t having it. So one night when they were all asleep, I booked. And it was good riddance to small towns and small minds,” Miss Kitty said as her voice broke and her eyes welled with tears.

Silence filled the room for a few seconds. Raymond didn’t know what to say or do. He realized how brave and strong she was. Miss Kitty/Kendall was thrust by fate in the front ranks of the gay rights movement, one of those gay people who were abused just because of their physical appearance and mannerisms. Raymond and Trent were never mistreated or disrespected by strangers because they were black gay men, because most hatemongers couldn’t tell they were gay by just looking at them. They had never been physically threatened because of their sexuality. Raymond knew Miss Kitty and others like her made him nervous because he had always been afraid that when he
acknowledged that he was gay, people would assume he wanted to look and be treated like a woman.

Now he wanted to comfort Miss Kitty, but instead he shut his eyes tightly and felt the emotions knotting up his stomach. Suddenly he heard Peaches’s voice.

“Kitty, you ain’t scaring Raymond, are you?” she asked as she came into the bedroom carrying a plate on a TV tray.

“Well, he still here, ain’t he?” Miss Kitty said as she took a tissue from the bedside supply and dabbed the corners of her eyes. After regaining her composure, she firmly placed her back against the pillows lined against the headboard.

“Yes, he is. And ain’t that a blessing,” Peaches said, placing the tray over Miss Kitty’s lap.

For Raymond, Wednesday, hump day, had been a good day. He was making progress with a loan officer and the landlord’s attorney. He figured he could wrap up everything within the week and return home. Raymond discovered the workouts with Basil, or maybe just nervous energy, had helped him lose some pounds. The suit pants he had brought from Seattle were not fitting the same way. Now he needed a belt. The weight loss was further confirmed when he went out and bought several pairs of black, size 32 jockey underwear, which fit snug and sexy. He was almost back to his prerelationship weight.

Raymond was even looking forward to an evening with his trainer/nemesis, Basil Henderson. He had decided to give himself his full five-step date-prep grooming treatment. Before he started, Raymond smiled and thought of Kyle and how the two of them had created their grooming prep when they were both single and heading out for a night on the prowl. First he splashed cold water on his face and then warm water. He took a buff pad and poured on a liquid cleanser and
scrubbed his face. Next he took an ivory gel shaving foam and massaged it into his face, then took a blue disposable razor and shaved slowly. Raymond splashed more cold water on his face to close the pores and then put on a layer of Noxzema. He located an orange tube of a facial mask he once used at least twice a week and laid it next to a dry white facecloth.