The Set Up

By Carl Edward Jackson

Carl Edward Jackson, a Black gay man, grew up in the South where it was morally unacceptable to be gay. He attended church with his divorced mother several times per week when he was a teenager, but often felt ostracized, as the pastor of the church regularly rejected homosexuality, and insisted that gay people would be sent to hell for eternity

• Language: English
• Publisher: Authors' Tranquility Press
• Release date: Feb 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9781957546544

Carl Edward Jackson

Carl Edward Jackson was born on August 24, 1968, at Saint Vincent Hospital in Little Rock, Arkansas. After birth, he lived in the Granite Mountain housing project with his mother, father, and sister. He was a good child, but he was abused often by his father. Carl found his safe place in school. He attended Woodruff and Franklin Elementary Schools and was declared gifted and talented. In the sixth grade, he starred in a musical version of Alice in Wonderland as the White Rabbit. During his senior year, Carl was elected Student Council President. After high school, Carl attended the University of Arkansas for three years. He dropped out of college after his fraternity brothers found out he was Gay. Despite being a college dropout, Carl held professional and management level jobs at Fortune 500 companies; but Carl began to experience serious mental illness symptoms and could no longer work. He started writing books as a form of therapy. "Life has highs and lows. I am inspired to capture those moments and create stories as a form of art," says Carl.

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Copyright © 2022 by Carl Edward Jackson.

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Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

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The Set Up/Carl Edward Jackson

Paperback: 978-1-957546-53-7

eBook: 978-1-957546-54-4

This book is dedicated,

in loving memory of

Jewel Ary

(1946-1990)

and

Tony B. Bankhead

(1961-2012)

Inspired by true events.

Dear God,

It’s me again. God, I love you and it would take an awfully long time for me to praise you enough for the blessings you have given to me. It would take eternity. But there is something I must tell you. I’m upset with you. I am upset with you for all the murders of Black men, women and children by police and gun violence in America. For what cause should I attribute this? Your total disregard on this issue has led to many tears. I am upset with you about the tribulations in my life, but I’m going to make it. I’m upset because you made being Black or Brown less than others. Despite that, we persevere even though many of us are disadvantaged in society. I’m upset that you allowed my ancestors to live through slavery in America. I’m upset that it took two years for some slaves to learn that they were free. I’m upset with you that my people never got the promised 40 acres and a mule. I’m upset that there are no reparations for the Descendants of African Slaves. I’m upset with you that many White people still look at Blacks as being 3/5th of a person. No matter how you look at it, it was written in the Constitution. Some White people don’t love me and never will. And hell, some Black people don’t love me either.

God, I’m upset because you created me Gay, knowing full well that even more people will hate me for who I am. I’m upset with you because I was born into a poor family. I was not blessed with wealth. I’m upset that you have killed people in my life who loved me. I’m upset. God, I’m upset with you about the affairs of the world. Why do you starve people in third world countries? Why are people born into poverty? Isn’t there enough money for everybody in the world? I’m upset with you that I have mental health challenges. I’m upset about all the psychotic episodes I endured. I’m upset because you caused my Mama to worry about me. I was a successful person until I fully and knowingly gave up my life to you. I’m upset because people are waiting on Jesus’ second coming when He has already come back a second time. Jesus’ first coming is when he lived for 33 years. His second coming was when He died and was raised again. So technically, we are waiting on His third coming. How many more times does Jesus come and go to bring Judgment to the earth?

I’m upset that you allow Israel to keep the Palestinians in apartheid like conditions while America provides them with the Iron Dome. I’m upset with you God. It’s all your fault. I know, I’m blessed yet I’m still upset. I’m upset that you have not manifested yourself on the Earth, knowing that many of us cry daily for you. What can we do about how I’m feeling Yah and do you care? God, I’m upset with you. And what in hell is COVID 19? Is this how you judge the world? Judge the world Lord but spare your children. Save the World like the Word says you will. Give us the Gift of Eternal Life like you said you would. Raise the dead like you said you could. Bring Heaven to Earth like you said you would. I’m upset because it seems like God is a bigger lie than Donald Trump… I know this is The Set Up, but I’m so upset.

- Carl

INTRODUCTION

My name is Carl Edward Jackson. When I was around four years of age, my dad started chastising me and verbally abusing me because I was feminine. I liked playing with my sister’s toys, just as much as I liked playing with mine, and he could not stand it. Daddy used to call me a faggot, on multiple occasions... He would call me a sissy and a son of a bitch. He had no respect for my mother, either, who I loved very much. And when I would begin to cry because of the abuse, he would physically beat me.

Often, he would stand me in front of him, as he sat in a chair. He would look at me in the eye and say,

You little faggot... You gone burn in hell... I’m gonna cave you in the chest...

He would then hit me with the knuckle of his forefinger with great force, so hard that he knocked the wind out of me, and I could not breathe… It seems like I was destined to be gay, while not even understanding what gay meant. But I learn quick.

It was an older boy from the neighborhood who would lead me to the woods after school and teach me things a child should not know. He was sixteen. I was six. It started out innocently. He would play with me, and we would run through the woods. He told me he was the boogie man and I had to make it 'home' to win. If he caught me, however, he would tickle me all the way home. Home was the other side of the woods, where there was a creek, and a field with wildflowers of purple and yellow. I hated being tickled, although it would make me laugh, so I was trying my best to outrun him. The boogie man would never catch me, so I thought.

Being bigger and older than me, he controlled the outcome of every time we played this game. Sometimes, I would win but most of the time, he would win, and he started by tickling me under my arms. Then he would tickle my stomach. Then he would tickle and touch me on my private parts, and I would laugh even harder, while running as fast as I could. One day he tackled me, laid on top of me, and said,

You are cute, little boy. You gone be my son. I laughed and said,

I got a daddy and he bigger than you. Get off me punk, but he wouldn't get off. Instead, he pulled down our pants and underwear and he molested me.

Afterwards, he said, I don’t see nothing wrong with a little bump and grind. You bet not tell anybody. If you do, I will hurt you and tell everybody you’re a faggot... you hear me?

I aint gone tell nobody. I liked it, I said. I'll get in trouble anyway. I swear... what is a faggot?

A faggot is a curse word for a boy who acts like a girl. You know, a sissy.

I got it, I said.

Has anyone ever called you a faggot?

Yeah, but I don’t want to talk about it. It makes me sad, I replied.

We left the woods that day and I went back to the house. A few days later, we moved, and I never saw him again, but I would never forget our sessions in the woods. And I vowed never tell a soul.

By the time I was eight, I was addicted to bumping and grinding, with my clothes off. I had experienced this with three girls and with six boys, multiple times. It was as if we were playing a game and I knew, way back then, that I liked playing with boys more than I liked girls, physically and sexually. My sexual journey became my darkest secret ever, as I experimented with males and females... but I was ashamed of myself for most of my life. And often I was depressed, and confused about who and what I am. But I’m all grown up now, and I gained some strength. This is the story about how, as an adult, I lost my mind to save my soul. This is The Set Up.

Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial, which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you. - 1 Peter 4:12

CONTENTS

A LIFE IN THE LIFE

CAN I GET AN AMEN?

MY LAST CHRISTMAS

WILL WORK FOR MONEY

THE BLOOD

SORRY, MS. JACKSON

TWENTY-ONE DAYS

MY NAME IS YAH

JUDGMENT OF CARL

MIGHT I BE CRAZY?

WHEN I MET HIM

THE BELLY OF THE BEAST

ONE YEAR LATER

JAILBIRD

911

NO SHE DIDN'T

I LOVE MY COUSIN

JUSTICE

HERE WE GO AGAIN

CHAPTER ONE

A LIFE IN THE LIFE

A lot of people in this club gone burn in hell! Andre proclaimed, as if he were the last prophet on earth. Give me another shot of tequila, he said to the bartender. And give my boy another one of them fruity drinks.

Don’t start, Dre, and I don’t want another drink, I replied with a smirk, while stirring the ice cubes in my Absolute and cranberry cocktail, with a twist of lime. I removed the red straw from my cup, placed it on the counter, and took a sip.

Here we were, sitting at the bar, trying to get our drink on, and this boy wants to preach a fire and brimstone sermon about who is going to hell. Whatever happened to the adage of judge not, so you will not be judged? Why do so-called Christian people think that they are the only people going to heaven? Besides all of that, I was trying to enjoy the In the Life party at Traxx tonight.

Every year, at this time, thousands of Black men from around the world converge upon Atlanta during Labor Day weekend for Black Gay Pride like bargain shoppers at a Black Friday sale at Macy’s. Forget what you heard; this is the most wonderful time of the year for the Black gay man. It does not matter if you have been naughty or nice; you are in for the time of your life.

This is obviously your first time in a gay club, I commented.

Hell yeah, Andre said quickly. It’s cool, though. Do you come here often?

Nah. I only do the club scene once a year.

Jesus Christ, it’s so many of yall, bro… I did not know it was this many Black homosexuals in Atlanta. Not that I am a fag or anything, but there aint no ugly niggas up in here. I know they can get some pussy if they want to.

To my surprise, Andre made a valid point; there are plenty of masculine, drop-dead, gorgeous, Black, gay men in Atlanta, and Pride brings out the best of them. I have indulged in the annual festivities since I moved to Atlanta nine years ago, and it gets bigger, and better every year. There had to be at least thirty thousand men at Traxx tonight with half of them outside in the streets, partying as if it was New Year’s Eve, 1999.

So, what are you really trying to say, Dre? Do you think gay men can’t attract women?

I used to think they couldn’t. I see different now, Andre continued, as he gulped down his tequila shot, and ordered another one. These niggas choose to be gay. They do not have to be gay. They just need some pussy; that’s all.

I was quiet for a moment. I had to think about how to respond with some sense of sensitivity, so I took another sip of my drink, and looked around at all the children sitting at the bar. It’s not that simple, Dre. I mean, I was born gay, and I’ve had plenty of pussy in my life.

You aint born gay, Carl. You choose to be gay. It is cool though, man. You still my boy. Andre started laughing, as he leaned toward me and gently rubbed my right shoulder.

Ever since I spilled my tea to Andre a few days ago, he has been overly curious about the life, and wants to go everywhere I go. I usually keep my straight friends in the dark about my sexuality, as I certainly do not want to offend anyone. I guess you could say I enforce a do not ask, do not tell policy. Most straight men, from my experience, cannot understand why a man would want to be intimate with another man. And if they find out you are gay, they tend to think that you want to get down with them. Andre is cute and all, but I aint trying to go there with him.

You think I choose to be gay, Dre? I started to laugh.

God gave us free will and yall choose to be that way, he said with immense pride.

So, do you think that people choose to be born poor? Or did you choose to be born Black? And did you choose to be straight?

Well, yes, I choose to be straight, Andre said matter-of-factly. Dick is for pussy… God created Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve. You heard me?

"God created Adam, Eve, and Steve, you big dummy. I started laughing aloud and gave Andre the hand. Talk to the hand, Dre. Talk to the mutha fuckin’ hand!"

"Say, bro, you can have all the Hershey chocolate and Fruity Pebbles you can eat. But as for me, give me some of that good ole wet, gushy stuff… Now that is a bad bitch right there.