Free Single Ladies by Tamika Jeffries Page A

Denise's room number.  The friendly nurse not only gave her the number, but also led her to the room.
    "Denise, somebody's here to see you," the chubby, red-haired nurse said in a cheery tone.
    Her brother would kill her if she dared to say he looked good, or even alright, for that fact.  At six foot two, he was naturally petite, but he'd lost at least thirty pounds, and weighed no more than a hundred and twenty pounds.  His skin looked dry and ashy, and his eyes had dark circles underneath. 
    There were no words exchanged between the two.  She rushed to his bedside, with her hand over her trembling mouth, and when she embraced him, they both let out soft cries.
    "I missed you----oh God, I missed you, Nee-ceeeeey", she cried.
    "I missed you too," he whined.  " Nah u betta stop all that cryin' girl, u got me emotional," he said in his sassy, girly voice.
    The nurse got teary eyed, watching them.  "Denise, is there anything I can get you right now?"
    "Naw, but thank you hunny", he continued to hold onto his sister.
    "K. I'll see you a little later", she smiled and left the two in privacy.
    Once the door shut, Daphne looked back at her sickly brother and wiped her tears.  They still flowed internally as she looked at the effects of AIDS on his body. She saw part of a lesion that hid underneath his pale blue hospital gown, but tried to look elsewhere.
    "Oh, yeah.  I got about twenty of them nasty ass sores on my back, too," he pointed out, when he noticed her looking at it.
    "Well, I aint gon' lie to you Neecey.  You look like shit."
    Neecey laughed.  "You can say that again.  But one thang about it, I'm gon' be outta here in no time and Imma be r-right back to my sexy self.  Girl, this ugly ass blue gown and shit aint gon get it!  O-kaaay!  I-I'm used to my stilettos and n-name b-brand jeans huggin this ass!" he laughed until he started to cough.
    "You okay?"
    His coughing subsided after a minute. "Y-yeah.  Man this shit hurts, Daphne.  I nevva saw my-my self layin up in no damn hospital with AIDS, when I was out in them streets so deep."
    Daphne rubbed his shoulder length hair, that he dyed platinum blonde years before. 
    She gave him a special comfort, when she rubbed his hair.  He closed his eyes and continued to ramble.  She listened attentively.  Just listening to his feigned confidence in getting "back out there", was enough for her to know, he never was.  Denise had always been stubborn, rebellious, too hot to handle, and too cold to hold.  Daphne was always told that since the age of three,  Denise had always looked more "Girly".   She remembered the pictures she'd seen of him  and he had long eyelashes, a pretty, feminine mouth, soft, light caramel skin, curly long hair, and a delicate bone structure.   Daphne could recall their grandmother talking about how she would sit next to Denise in the mornings, while he dressed for school, telling him to stop crying like a little girl and to be strong like a boy.  She said he would be crying because the children at school were teasing him for the girly way he behaved.  He was nine years older than Daphne, but when she turned eighteen, she took on a big sister role and became the light in Denise's dark sky.  He turned to her for advice.  As a teenager, she was a popular neighborhood hairstylist, and she often did her new styles on Denise, and everybody who would see it, would be jealous.  Denise had real women jealous of him!    Daphne was the first person he told that he was HIV positive.  He was twenty seven at the time, but had been positive for five years before he told her.   The whole city had known him for his womanly beauty.  When he first started to dress in women's clothing, when he was about fifteen, is when he also started to take his best friend, Shameka's birth control pills to grow breasts and acquire some female hormones.  He told everyone to call him Denise, instead of Darnell.   He became famous for drag shows at the