I didn't know why I drove across town to a place I didn't care for. I must be crazy as bat shit. Looking over the house brought back so many memories and none of them were good. I closed my eyes and sucked in air.

But I was here now, so on with it, I guess.

I waited a long, drawn out moment before I knocked a few times on the oak polished door.

No answer.

Figures...

I tried the glockenspiel (doorbell).

After a minute, the door opened and when Lynn saw me, she lowered her eyes.

"Why are you here?" Lynn asked, her red eyes drained and tired. I knew that she was still dealing with losing her only son and so was I.

I swallowed my pride with the lump in my throat. "I'm here to talk to you, and to ask you a huge favor."

She looked at the fear in his eyes.

"Come in. Maybe we can...make a deal. Is this about Jonathan's sideline dude Marcus Johnson?"

"Sideline? I knew this wasn't going to work."

"Marcus and Jonathan have been sleeping together since your second group session, when he first enrolled. I'm sorry. You didn't know that?"

What I was there to ask for was suddenly compromised.

Jonathan was cheating on me.

I was devastated.

Finding it hard to breathe.

"Harry...I know I've said and done things that lead to a devastating loss, but I'm asking you to forgive me..."

I was already getting in my car.

Marcus and Jonathan have been sleeping together since your second group session...

Marcus Johnson certainly never figured that he'd wind up in prison for six years, charged with assault in the first degree...

He certainly regretted beating his father into a devastating coma with his bare hands at his senior prom, years ago, just to protect his secret. That he was gay, but on the fabled low key with it.

As long as his dad wasn't dead, he wasn't charged with murder...but after five and a half years in prison for assaulting his dad...some very powerful people were clout chasing, and pulled legal strings to have Earl vindicated from any more suffering.

And in that came murder charges...

It tore him up inside that his dad never had the chance to get to know the real him, the bitter truth, that he loved men, but got to know and fell in love with who he pretended to be. And protecting his secret from going public, instant character assassination, he killed for it.

But the price was too great.

As part of his punishment, he was ordered by the court to pull the plug on his father.

Marcus, in shackles, quietly looked over his father. There were two Marshals outside the door, watching him through a small window.

Lowering his head, he faced his father. He was brain dead. The machines could no longer breathe for him. His body was slightly sunken and there was no more life, fight, or happiness in his eyes.

Marcus covered his face, bursting into huge tears. Jitters crawled his legs and he took his father's face into his shaking palms.

"Dad...wake up."

He searched his father's eyes. Open, cold and empty. Where was that spark that always ignited with love every time his father entered a room and their eyes connected with grins or smiles?

Their eyes ignited with two different sparks, for two different reasons. Dad wondered what his son was hiding, and Marcus wondered if his dad was suspicious of the breach in his masculinity.

When Marcus was getting ready for his Senior Prom, his dad approached him about it. Before his dad gave him his first car, he needed to know one thing.

"Are you gay, son? Cut the bullshit, call a spade a bitch and out with it."

Marcus concealed a boiling rage to beat him to death then, but his dad kept it kosher, despite his questions.

"Dad, really? Out of all the things to say to me on my big night, you are questioning yourself?"

Dad was annoyed. Frowning, he slammed the bedroom door closed and grabbed Marcus by the throat. He shook it a few times, grunting. "I'm not a punk, nigga. You're my son and damn it you're a reflection of me..."

Marcus kneed his dad in the balls, and massaged his throat, gasping desperately for air.

"You don't never look at women, dad and I knew that for years, but you don't see me questioning you. I can assume all day, but that doesn't make it true. And now you're insulting me because you have internal issues with your masculinity. What's the matter, dad...too much estrogen in your diet?"

Dad swung a fist at Marcus' face, and it connected with the middle of his chest instead.

Marcus buckled.

"Watch who you're talking to, son. I'm loyal to you, but you're not my friend. I'm your father, your daddy and you Papa and papi, too. I came deep in your mama's nookie and spit your ass out via a good nut, the Big Bang Theory. No son of mine is..."

"Dad. You're a closeted sissy. You take it long and deep. I caught you a few times in the middle of your heightened ecstasy with a dick deep in your guts, but I never brought it to your attention, and I didn't love you any different. But now you're feeling some type of way because you're insecure in your own lies."

Earl Emanuel Johnson's mouth fell open, breaking out in a gradual sweat. He moved the laws of the universe to keep it together.

Marcus was in his face. Man to man. Toe to toe. Son to Father.

"You're gay, not me. I love pussy, I'm keeping it real," said Marcus and didn't even convince himself.

"You love pussy? Then why do you sometimes smell like ass when you come home? Why aren't you and Steph, your cousin, close anymore?"

"This conversation is over, dad. Come on, dude. Tighten up. I'm going to my prom. My girl, Sweet Dee, is my date. Thick and phat, chocolatey delicious. That caramel chocolate."

Marcus grinned at his dad...and they started laughing.

"Let's not have this conversation again, dad. Let's forget it ever happened."

"You might have caught me, but remember this, son. If you're lying to me and I find out, I'm telling everyone in the family."

Marcus swallowed hard but kept a straight face.

This can't get out. My reputation in the 'hood I cherish like crack in a pipe.