Bradley’s step-father died on his birthday while we were in Puerto Rico. Bradley’s momma’s babies daddy passed away on what was supposed to be a relaxing day on vacation. I felt the vibes through the phone as the message was delivered via his Sprint cell phone in-box. He started to cry. I knew something bad happened.
“What is it?”
“Stinky and Lucky’s father died on my birthday,” he sobbed. Bradley has helped his mother, a single parent, to raise his little brothers over the past five years. Bradley’s mother separated from her second marriage to Stinky and Lucky’s real father. They are nine and fourteen now. I cried too. I knew how sad the kids must be back in Brooklyn and we were vacationing in Puerto Rico.
When I saw the tears in Bradley’s eyes, I realized that he must have been really close to his step-father. I never saw my lover cry real tears. He rarely spoke about his former step-father. His family suspected he may ‘go’ soon, but Bradley could not understand why he decided to go out on his birthday. Bradley had already lost his real father at 10, he was about to go through the fire of loss again.
“He came to me in my dreams with a hat on two nights ago,” Bradley said to me.
“Do you want to go home early?” I asked.
“What can I do now?” he asked as I was rubbing sunblock on my hairy, pale, legs. “Stinky’s going to summer camp today and Lucky is going to his internship job. They seem fine, besides, the funeral is not until Tuesday. Let’s stay. We need this vacation.”
I agreed.
***
“Are you going to Puerto Rico again this year?” Stinky asked me a few weeks ago.
“I don’t know yet,” I responded.
“I want to come with you and Bradley to Puerto Rico,” the kid pleaded on our way back from the Baskin Robin’s on the corner of DeKalb and Nostrand Avenues.
“Maybe in a year or so, Stinky, if you graduate into high school and get good grades. We’ll see what Bradley says.”
On father’s day, the kids wanted to come over for the weekend. Bradley instinctively knew to tell them, “No, go spend time with your father.” Their dad was very sick and was in the hospital. Bradley was very worried. He never turned the kids away when they wanted to come over for the weekend.
***
Stinky gets a kick out of life when fat black women in the ice cream parlor ask me, “Is this your son?”
“No,” I explain without going into the details of how I came to know the most gifted child in the world. Stinky does not understand why I don’t just lie to the ‘broads’ and tell them ‘yes’.
Lucky’s all grown up now. Rarely does he stay over on weekends. He has girlfriends at 14. He spent Easter with us this year though. I still color eggs and give them $2 for each egg they find. Even at fourteen, Lucky sees the value of family. He went on his own to a Catholic church near their home. For a while, it seemed like he was destined for the cloth. I thought perhaps the Easters that I spent with the kids had some effect on Lucky’s spirituality. As it turns out, a girl that Lucky had a crush on went to that church and he was seeking other forms of salvation. Lucky once brought a little orange Gideon bible to the house and left it here, right on top of my larger Holy Book. I never asked him about it, but I keep the book here, just in case he ever wants it back.
Lucky’s getting to the age where he understands that I’m his brother’s lover. He treats me with respect. I helped him with his summer school projects so that he would not have to repeat a grade. I’m just “Chals” to them.
They live here in Bed-Stuy too, within walking distance, and our house has been their home away from home on weekends over the past half-decade. Bradley has told his brothers he sleeps on the pull out sofa just to keep in simple.
