Questions

The general impression most people get from Wilhelmina Brown, upon first meeting her, is that she’s nice.

People who know her as more than just a passing acquaintance would probably take that description as far as saying she’s “too” nice: that the rugged conditions she has endured throughout her life should have turned her into a callous, bitter, resentful old woman. Instead, Mrs. Brown is known as a sweet lady who doesn’t do anything wrong to anyone.

However, there is one thing Mrs. Brown did wrong that, until two weeks ago, nobody knew. It was a secret she internally dealt with every day, and it was something that, as her phone rang and she picked up slowly, she would have to deal with externally now.

“What the fuck, ma?” Tavon Bishop nearly yelled as soon as he heard the click. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Wilhelmina Brown sighed deeply as she let silence fill up the phone line for seconds. She then replied, “I couldn’t. Tavon, that’s his cross. His burden. I couldn’t take that from him, and I couldn’t take telling you from him either.”

“I don’t give a shit about his burden, ma. I give a shit about how this affects ME. I have lived my entire life in awe of this man, ma. I thought he was smart –he got out of the quicksand before it was too late. Now I know he was just followin’ dick.”

Mrs. Brown’s wrinkles around her mouth straightened into a frown as she shook her head. “Don’t use that language when talking about your father, Tavon. He had plenty of reasons for doing what he did.”

“The fuck he did!” Tavon’s voice was loud, boisterous – losing any of the refinement he had used to control it since stepping in front of SCCW cameras. “He had two reasons, ma: Dennis’s left nut, and Dennis’s right nut. The fuck you defending him for? He left yo ass in the quicksand.”

Wilhelmina, as previously stated, is a nice woman, and that is why she was able to take her son’s hostility without raising her voice. “I am defending him because you are forgetting that despite the lies, despite holding this from you for so long, I am your mother. And he is your father. And we do what we can to protect you. We’ve made some mistakes, but we are trying and…”

“Whatever,” Tavon broke off, his voice crackling over the rotary line. After a brief pause, his voice came back, less angry and more confused. “I do have a question, though?”

Wilhelmina sighed. “Yes, dear?”

“If he’s gay, does that make me gay?”

For the first time since he called, his mother smiled. “No, dear.”

“But I heard it’s genetic.”

“Goodbye, Tavon,” she said, hanging up and shaking her head. Wilhelmina Brown was too nice, perhaps, but somehow, it was the only thing from keeping her son from going completely insane.

*************

And Answers

“I’m not gay, right?” Bishop asked, leaning forward. He was doing something he had sworn he would never do – seeking professional help.

“Well, there’s no sort of test for it, but we can try to gauge your interest in different sexualities. What about the female body stimulates you, Mr. Bishop?”

He thought about it, then smiled. “I love the walk. That smooth, leg over leg motion just gets me going.”

“Men have walks too, Mr. Bishop,” the psychologist said slowly.

“Yeah, but they usually ain’t got ghetto booty stickin’ out the back, now do they?” he smiled. She didn’t return it.

“So it is an ass and a walk? What else about a woman stimulates you?”

“Her style. Attitude. Her ability to take over a room like that.” Bishop’s short daydream is cut short by his psychologist’s short “ahem.” “What?”

“None of what you listed in sexual.”

There was a long pause before Bishop stood up, shook his head, and began pacing. “I don’t know what to tell you, lady. I like women, I know I do, but this whole dad thing has me spooked. I don’t know nothing about gays, but my dad don’t look like one. He’s a big strong guy. And if it can happen to him…” he stopped and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

The psychologist leaned forward. “You came to me for more than just to vent, didn’t you?”

“Whaddya mean?”

She smiled. “You know I’m not exclusively the federation psychologist, right? I’m hired for other reasons.”

Bishop smiled back. “I’ve seen the show. I know the reasons.”

She nodded. “So when you came to me about your homosexual father, you weren’t just trying to figure out if you were straight. You were trying to prove it, right?”

After a brief pause, The Biloxi Beast shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe I heard rumors you help people out in more ways than one, you know?”

“Maybe you have.” The blonde psychologist smiled, tilting her glasses as she stared up at Bishop. “Maybe they’re true.”

“So what next?” he asked.

“You have an upcoming match against Cyrus Raynes, one of my former clients,” she said, her smile growing to an extent that made Bishop uncomfortable. “How about we make an exchange: you show me some of your moves, and I’ll tell you some of his.”

Bishop smiled, and that was how Sarah Riley became his new valet.