Uprising - The Suspense Thriller Part 35

Oth.e.l.lo fought the urge to cry and stood there until Raider was completely out of sight. Then, he started walking along the dirt road toward the main highway. Upon reaching it, he headed west toward Atlanta.

Two miles later, he was feeling a bit parched and stopped at a dilapidated old gas station for a soda. The lone man at the station was a toothless, raisin-skinned, elderly black man who didn't seem to recognize Oth.e.l.lo.

I wonder who he is underneath his old man getup, Oth.e.l.lo asked himself as he paid for the drink.

With his thirst quenched, he made his way to the outdoor pay phone on the side of the station. Using his calling card, he dialed Los Angeles.

"Sweeney, my oldest and dearest and most-trusted friend." The very words almost brought him to tears, but he didn't want his manager to think anything was wrong.

"Oth.e.l.lo, my only and most elusive client, where the h.e.l.l are you?"

"Down South. Had a vision about a career move, but it didn't pan out."

"Career? Does that mean you actually still care about that thing called your music?"

"More than you know, my preppie Irish friend. Sweeney, we got work to do: picking the next single, shooting the next video and making sure One Nation stays at the top of the charts. I see the single as 'Succulent' and the video will be me and a hot blond man on a romantic date, ending with us making sweet, pa.s.sionate love."

"You're drunk."

"Yes, I'm drunk, Sweeney, with life and me being me, a h.e.l.l of a man who can go through just about anything and still come out on the other side. I found a new way to fight the hatemongers, Sweeney. It's called coming out to the world, being who I am, hip, hot, ripped, funky, s.e.xy and queer. That's right, my mana"my one and only mana"it's time to make history, you and me, the right way."

"You want to come out?" Sweeney said flatly.

"I could c.r.a.p in these jeans I got on just thinking about it, but I can't go back to where I was. I've seen the light outside the closet door, Sweeney. I've seen gay pride and ACTNOW and even got a glimpse of what it must be like to be in love. Time to step all the way out into that light and bask in it for the rest of my life, as long as I live."

"Oth.e.l.lo, slow down. It's times like this when I feel like your parent."

"No need. Got two fine parents out in Riverside. Listen, why don't we talk about all this when I get back. I need you to arrange a car and a plane right now."

He gave Sweeney the location of the gas station, then thought of one last thing.

"Oh, and Sweeney. Never mind. It can wait."

No need to go into testing positive on the phone. That was a conversation that could take place in person as soon as possible. The world would also learn about his HIV status someday, on his terms, before an illness involuntarily outed him.

Leap one hurdle at a time, he told himself, hanging up the phone and heading toward the road. First, he'd tell Sweeney about being positive and together they'd find the best AIDS doctor in LA. Then, he'd map out a strategy to come out as a gay man to the world. And he'd do it his way, first through his music and videos, then interviews but only after he'd whipped the public into a frenzy of speculation and curiosity. Perhaps Barbara Walters would get the first interview. Yes, definitely Barbara Walters. A whole hour with Barbara. Or maybe Oprah.

From there he'd fight, for laws, for rights, for the teenage kids Jimmy Herman wanted to see commit suicide. He'd fight harder than Madonna or Ellen or any other celebrity. And this time, it would all be aboveboard and legal, not because he promised straightboy Raider Kincaide, but because the Jimmy Hermans of the world weren't worth being held prisoner to, in jail or out. Just as Travis Little Horse had said.

Staring down the long dusty road to Atlanta, he was too giddy to wait at the gas station and decided to walk toward town and keep an eye out for the limo, all the while thinking of all the hot young men he would soon be crooning overa"and who would be salivating over hima"in his videos.

R ANDY BOYD is a native of Indianapolis and a 1985 graduate of UCLA. His fiction has appeared in Blackfire magazine, as well as the following anthologies: Certain Voices, Flesh and the Word 2, Sojourner: Black Gay Voices in the Age of AIDS, Flashpoint and MA-KA: Diasporic Juks. In addition, his nonfiction has been featured in the following publications: Frontiers,Au Courant,The Was.h.i.+ngton Blade, The James White Review and the anthology Friends and Lovers: Gay Men Write About the Families They Create.

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