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Razorblade Tears(53)

Author:S. A. Cosby

“Thanks.” Ike choked the word out and walked away. The two white men slow-dancing were gone. They must have slipped out while he was interrogating the brothers. That left the guys in the booth. They were laughing over another round of shots. Ike walked over and stood next to the booth.

“Hey, how ya guys doing?” Ike asked. He tried to look friendly.

“Hey there,” one of the men said. The other men stopped laughing but kept smiling.

“Hey, I’m Ike Randolph. My son was Isiah Randolph,” Ike said. All the smiles faltered.

“Oh my. I’m sorry. I’m Jeff,” the man closest to Ike said. He held out his hand. Ike shook it and was surprised by its firmness.

“I’m Ralph.”

“I’m Sal.”

“Chris.”

Ike nodded to the other three men.

They don’t look gay, Ike thought. As soon as the idea entered his head it seemed like he could hear Isiah’s voice. How exactly did someone look gay? Did he expect them to have tattoos carved into their foreheads that declared their sexuality?

“I guess you guys knew Isiah?” Ike asked.

“He and Derek were regulars here. He did an article on my organization. Derek used to work for Chris at his restaurant,” Jeff said.

“Small world, ain’t it?” Ike said.

“The world is made up of a bunch of smaller worlds,” Jeff said.

“What’s your organization?” Ike asked.

“I run a nonprofit technical school in the East End for at-risk gay youth. We teach them industrial arts. I’m a welder by trade and a wannabe artist,” Jeff said.

“You’re being too modest,” Ralph said. He put his hand on top of Jeff’s. Ike studied the picture of Judy Garland at an anonymous cabaret club. Her deep-set eyes and come-hither pout were frozen forever in black-and-white.

“That’s good. You get a lot of kids out there?” Ike asked. The four men shared a long moment of silence before Jeff spoke.

“Lots of kids end up on the streets when they come out. Not all of them, but a lot. They show up with black eyes and missing teeth. There are parents who think they can beat the gay away. Or they show up crying and terrified because their mom or dad or their pastor told them they were going to burn in hell for eternity,” Jeff said. Ike studied his boots. He was one of those parents. He definitely thought he could “man up” the gay out of Isiah. Might as well tried to make him a bird and tossed him off the roof. Isiah wasn’t going to ever change. He was what he was until the day he died.

“And now he’s in the ground,” Ike mumbled.

“I’m sorry, what?” Jeff asked.

“Um, nothing. I was just saying that’s fucked up,” Ike said.

“Yeah, it is,” Jeff said.

“Me and Derek’s dad, we were just asking around, trying to see if anyone knew anything about what happened. We’re not trying to put anybody in a spot. We just wanna find out what happened to our boys,” Ike said. Could these men hear the desperation in his voice? He heard it and it made him feel frail. Finding out who had killed Isiah and Derek was the life raft that he clung to in a vain attempt to keep from falling apart. It was barely working. The ragged edges of his mind might unravel at any moment, and God help whoever was around when that happened.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think any of us know anything that can help. I wish we could,” Jeff said.

“They were such a happy couple,” Sal said.

“They had what I’m looking for,” Chris said.

“You’ve got to stop being a ho if you want a husband,” Ralph said. Chris stuck his tongue out at him and rolled his eyes.

“Ah, did any of you know a woman by the name of Tangerine?” Ike asked. Jeff’s right cheek twitched.

That’s a tell, Ike thought.

“I knew a girl by that name once,” Jeff said. Ike thought he was choosing his words carefully. His eyes darted from left to right, and that cheek was nearly oscillating now.

“Oh yeah? Did she ever come by the school?” Ike asked.

“She used to crash there a lot,” Ralph offered. Jeff moved his hand from under Ralph’s, then put his hand on Ralph’s forearm. A quiet gesture, but Ike read it as an admonishment.

“Tangerine didn’t, uh … take to the industrial arts. She’s a free spirit,” Jeff said.

“That’s one word for it,” Chris said. Sal elbowed him.

“What? I’m just saying what we’re all thinking,” Chris said.

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