For the next few weeks the relationship between Malcolm and I grew to be more matrimonial. He was working more hours, I was back to my normal routine, including fixing dinner, and meeting his sizeable sexual needs each evening.
People at my work place noticed I was much more stable and functional. It was well known in the office that I was living with a Black man and taking on a servile role. Malcolm's occasional visit as he met me after work affirmed it. He had that commanding quality about him, and no one questioned our relationship, mostly because the office manager was able to keep a lid on gossip and rumors. Plus, I did my work well, and was humble about it.However, a promise we made to each other to not get into a dull routine, or be boring, was eroding. We were both adventurous, and needed something more in our lives. One day during dinner at our favorite restaurant, Malcolm indicated that it was time to either take our relationship further, or spend more time apart. He had been neglecting his children, and wished to either have them spend more time with us, or he with them which meant spending more time away from me.
He was concerned that I was not moving fast enough on making moves to have a sex change. He felt that I could provide a motherly figure to his children. He had worked out an arrangement with his ex-wife to visit his kids at their place, but only for a day a week. If they were to come with him they could spend a week, or a weekend. But that meant me being in their lives more often, which Malcolm wanted, but only if I was his woman.
"That's such a big step, Malcolm," I explained to him how this was a decision that had to made with consideration of my job, family members and long-term planning.
"This is something we have discussed, and agreed to. Now it is time to take action. We have waiting long enough," said Malcolm, sounding demanding, yet conveying some sense of understanding.
"When does this have to be done?" I asked, attempting once again to delay the matter.
"Soon, I am trying to avoid going to court. Melinda will agree to current terms but I have to let her know by the end of the week. And she is not asking to visit our place, that is a huge plus."
"I can't promise that by the end f the week I will have started to become a woman, Malcolm. This is not something that is reversible, it needs much more thought."
I could sense he was getting irritable and restless. "Then your answer is no?"
"It's much more complicated than that Malcolm. Besides, our place is too small to have your children over a period of time. Where would they sleep?"
"One thing at a time, James. The issue right now is whether you are seriously considering becoming the woman for me," said Malcolm, frowning. He was becoming frustrated, determined, almost frantic. "It would be best all around. So many advantages, other than the fact that you turn me the fuck on when you dress like a lady. You cold be a mother to my children. You would be very good at that. Besides, I will soon be making a good amount of money and we could move, buy a house."
While the money was a new, and welcomed issue, it was not enough for me to change my mind. "Why can't we keep things the way we are?" I asked, hinting that going through the change was not a consideration.
Malcolm angrily pounded his fist on the table, eliciting stares from those around us. He quickly calmed down to explain that he wanted his children to live with us, but as man and woman, and went on to validate how his sexual desires are more into my female side. "James, you promised me. This is not the time to go back on that."
I had never been so emotionally challenged in my life. The man I loved, and was willing to sacrifice so much for, was asking me to do something that I could not agree to at that moment. And I recalled telling him, in the heat of passion, that I would be his woman. "Malcolm, things between us is so good right now the way I am. I know your children are a very important part of your life, and I am honored you would make them part of mine, I need more time, Malcolm, I'm sorry."
He continued to look at me directly. There was a long, pause before he got up and left. I sat in the restaurant for a few more minutes before paying the bill, but not ready to go home. After walking around, I stopped in a local gay bar for a drink, giving me time to process the thoughts racing in my mind. I ended up drinking heavily that night, and when I got up to leave, felt myself lose balance and started to fall over. Fortunately, there was someone walking past me, and he was able to make sure I sat back down.
" I need to go," I said as I stood up and stumbled again. The double bourbons and beers had caught up to me."Not in that condition," said the stranger as he helped me stand.
The next few minutes were a blur. I woke up in a strange room, lying on dirty couch. Shortly after waking up someone came in the room, a large Latino man covered in tattoos.
"You up?" he asked, sounding concerned.
"Yes, I am but damn my head hurts."
"Probably because your drunk ass fell while we were trying to help you.
"My name is Jose, work security here," he told me as he stood over me, arms folded across his large chest.
"Thanks Jose, and I'm really sorry if I caused problems. Where am I?"
"At the bar man. We took you back here after we couldn't wake you up."
"Damn. That's fucked up -- I'm really sorry."
"No biggie -- but it's time to go home. Need a cab?"
"No thanks." Not wanting to go home, I actually preferred to stay the night there.
"Man you're not walking home. Not in this condition." Jose helped me up and put me in front of a mirror -- I had a serious black eye developing. "I'll give you a ride. Where do you stay?"
I made up a street intersection nearby not wanting to admit I was not wanting to go home.
"Unless you're living on the streets you got the wrong address." said Jose.
I then told Jose the events that led up to that moment. "That's fucked up man, but at some point, you got to face the music."
Before I could get the words out I broke down and started crying uncontrollably. Jose stood silently by, obviously affected by my state of mind. "Damn that's fucked up. Well you can't stay here man."
I got myself together long enough to tell him it was okay, that I would find a place to go. As I got up to leave Jose took me by the arm and sat me down. "I can't let you do that man, not like this. If someone kills your ass I'll be thinking I could have done something. You're coming home with me."
I really didn't want to put him out, nor did I know where he lived but I was glad to have a place to lay down other than concrete or a hard cot. "Thanks Jose, I really appreciate it. My name is James."
"Let's go, they're about to lock up." We left the back room and walked through the bar where a large Black man was sitting.
"Help us finish these beers Jose," he said.
"I got to take this guy home, he ain't got a place to go."
"Take his white ass home then instead of drinking with us. You're always such a fucking bleeding-heart Jose."
We walked in silence to his car in the alley -- a beat up Pontiac that was very messy. He tossed stuff aside, giving me an indication he didn't have too many people in his car. We made small talk for the 30 minutes or so it took us to get to his place. All I could tell was that he was quiet and reserved. He stayed in projects and I felt uncomfortable walking past several shady looking young people on the way to his apartment. His place was a mess -- clothes laying all over the place, newspapers and food plates. Obviously, he was alone. He knocked the stuff off the couch making room for me. "If you decide to leave in the middle of the night just be sure to close and lock the door."
He was very dry toward me but seeing that I was a homeless stranger, I was truly lucky to have him anyway. "I'm thirsty, can I help myself to water?"
"Sure, go ahead. I'm off to bed -- later dude," said Jose as he disappeared into his bedroom.
The cockroaches were everywhere in his kitchen but, once again, I reminded myself how much better this was than to face a disappointed Malcolm. I found a clean glass and downed a lot of water before laying on the couch. I sat up thinking about Jose and wondering: Was he gay? He sure didn't give any indication, nor could I find any proof in his place. Why was he being so friendly? Would I be given the opportunity to stay more than a night? Just then Jose came out of his room, stripped to his boxers to go to the bathroom. The bathroom door was left open just enough so that I could stare at him as he brushed his teeth. He had a beautiful body, chunky but solid, his brown skin covered in tats, nipples pierced. His close-cut haircut and goatee made him very handsome. I guessed he was in his mid-20s. After brushing he took his dick out to pee but it was out of view. I was suddenly turned on. I got up from the couch to get a better view. His dick was enormous, uncut and fat. After a few shakes he left out of the bathroom before I could get myself settled on the couch. I was caught and looked guilty.
"Can't sleep?" asked Jose as he went into the kitchen to fix himself a meal.
"Sorry man, to be honest, I was checking you out." I said.
Jose laughed. "Damn, at last you honest." He showed no indication of being upset, nor interested.
He continued to fix his meal and went back into the bedroom. The door would not close all the way, so the light and sound from the TV was noticeable. I watched as he lay on the mattress on the floor while eating and checking out TV, which was on a Spanish station. I debated whether or not to initiate conversation, eventually getting to his sexual preference.
I decided not to push my luck -- I laid back down on the couch, and was asleep within minutes. Hours later, I awoke to sunshine knowing that I had to leave. Jose was sound asleep, loudly snoring. I checked him out through the open door, he slept on top of his covers on his belly. His ass was gorgeous, round, firm and definitely protruding. The crack of it was clearly visible through his boxers that were drawn down.
I quietly showered and dried myself from a washcloth that was left on the floor. His housekeeping was horrendous -- a sign that he was most likely straight.
When I got home, I noticed the bedroom door was closed. I went in, stepping lightly as possible to not disturb Malcolm, who was sleeping soundly. As I gathered what I need for the day, Malcolm woke up.
"Where the fuck you been?" he asked, sitting up. "Not that I really care anymore."
While I knew he would be disturbed I was not prepared to answer him with anything but the truth. I told him how I stopped at a bar, drank too much and stayed the night at Jose's apartment. As I was explaining, he got up, went to the bathroom, urinated, and came back out, heading to the living room. "Get your shit out of the bedroom," said as he walked away from me.
I was quick to respond, perhaps too much so. "But you said as long as I'm honest with you, I could sleep in the bed."
"Bitch, think about it," said Malcolm as he drank a glass of water. "You broke a promise to me, and that's a lie."
"So, you're saying if I don't get a sex change this week, I cannot have the bedroom?" I was incensed, but managed to keep my cool.
Malcolm stood still, appearing alarmingly calm and collected. "I was very clear to you James, and you agreed to be totally honest with me. Every time you said you would be my woman, you had no intentions of actually doing so. Got my hopes up, thinking you were capable of telling the truth." As he walked past me, he told me that he would be going out of town for a couple weeks, and leaving out the next morning.
"Can I sleep in the bed then?" asked.
"Don't give a fuck what you do, period. As long as I don't have your sorry ass near me," said Malcolm as he closed the door. While we had disagreements before, Malcolm's mood was more of disinterest than anger. I sat on the couch, devastated, eventually falling asleep.
When I got up to go to work the next morning I heard Malcolm in the bedroom, sounding as if he were packing. When I got home he was gone, but some of his belongings remained. The following week was one of the longest of my life. I was lonely, brooding, maudlin, and avoided the health club due to the memories I had, and not wanting to deal with Cole or Carl if they were there. I needed the company of Malcolm, but at what cost? The roller coaster ride had just taken a big dip.