“Wait, Marcie, don’t hang up, please just bring back my car Marcie, that’s all I’m asking of you.” She could hear the curtain being pulled back and picture the horror on his face as he stared at the empty parking spot. “Marcie, I’m calling the police!” He screamed. Marcie stopped laughing and got a hold of herself. The image of the night before and his octopus arms coming in every direction made her suddenly more vindictive than ever. She wanted every man to pay for what they’d done to her, from her father all the way down the line.
“Well Steve, I wouldn’t call the police so soon if I were you. I happen to have your home address here on your business card and also a home phone number. I was just thinking about calling your wife. I was just thinking about telling her all those little things you did to me last night. Bet you didn’t know I have a camera on my cell phone, and you should see the pictures I got this morning of the two of us in bed together. Oh, Steve, your mama would be proud, yes she would. I got one of me, just in those little red panties you liked so much laying on your chest, and then I got one that well, let’s just say it truly speaks volumes.” There was silence on the phone and then Marcie began to torment him more. She figured she couldn’t torment Benjamin at the moment, so why shouldn’t some other snake get it. There seemed to be a deafening silence on the phone, and Marcie felt a surge of power in her voice.
“So Steve, I was thinking about doing a little shopping today. Macy’s is having a huge sell and I was wondering if I could use the MasterCard or the American Express? Do you prefer to pay it all off at once, or let’s see? Oh, you do have some cash in here. Should I just use that?”
“Marcie, this isn’t funny. Now bring me back my car and my wallet. I’ll buy you whatever you like, take the cash, but just bring me back my wallet and my car! Please.” He was begging now and Marcie liked the sound of his pathetic pleas.
“All men are pigs,” she said, “You’re all pigs! Did you hear me Steve, pigs!” She hung up the phone and decided to drive over to Benjamin’s, let him see her new boyfriend’s car. Yeah, that will get him, she thought. She pulled out of the Quick Mart and continued laughing at the whole situation. For whatever reason, she didn’t even care if he called the police. Her life felt so out of control already that she figured it couldn’t really get any worse. Spinning around the corner, she began gaining speed flying through the gears. If it were summer, she would have put the top down. Her life was whirling out of control, and she had the urge to drive through the guardrail and over the cliff. She was so tired of this life, so very tired. The speedometer hit one hundred miles an hour as she shifted into fifth gear. Suddenly, she heard a siren. Marcie wasn’t stunned by the flashing blue lights in the rearview mirror, and she wasn’t sorry she was being pulled over. Frankly, she was still in a state of shock at her own actions and the whole thing seemed surreal.
“Morning there,” the officer tipped his hat and leaned down to Marcie’s view. He was quite tall, a state trooper. “Can I see your license and registration, ma’am?”
Marcie fumbled through her purse and handed her license to the officer, and while he was looking over it, she stuffed Steve’s wallet under the seat. She reached over and opened the dash and pulled out the registration and insurance card and handed it to him.
“This car isn’t registered in your name?”
“Uhh, it belongs to a friend of mine, Steve Watson.”
“I see, hold on a minute.” He walked back to his car and sat down behind the wheel and began looking over her papers and talking on the phone.
Marcie lit another smoke and thought about how it was probably getting ready to be her last. “Oh Daddy, you’ll be so proud of me,” She said softly under her breath sarcastically.
The officer approached the car and told her to step out with such dramatization that Marcie began to pour on the tears. “The only reason I took the car was because he raped me last night . . . you have to believe me. I wasn’t trying to steal it, I was just trying to get away from his hotel until I could figure out what to do. You have to believe me,” she sobbed.
“Whoa, calm down Ms. Owens, are you saying you stole this man’s car? I thought you said he was a friend of yours?”
“I swear officer, I will do anything just don’t take me to jail. I drank too much last night and this married businessman took, well I didn’t know he was married, he just said he was on business from Virginia. Well, one thing led to another and then he ended up raping me.”
The officer eyed her black velvet pants and her purple sweater that was revealing a little too much cleavage. “You know you’re going to have a hard time proving that, don’t you?”
Marcie didn’t answer but sobbed all the louder. “I hate men. It’s not fair just because I am attractive and curvy, everyone just will assume I wanted it. Well, I didn’t want to have sex with some dirty old man. Call his room if you don’t believe me. Here I’ll dial the number for you.” She took out her cell phone and hit redial to the hotel. “Steve Watson’s room, please.”
“Marcie is that you, bring my damn car back, do you hear me.” Marcie had already put the phone up to the trooper’s ear.
“Mr. Watson, this is Officer Tanner and you can pick up your car at any time. It’s at the corner of Wicket and Barnet.” He handed the phone back to Marcie and looked at her sternly. “Ms. Owens, you been in trouble with the law before. I really shouldn’t even be having a conversation with you. I should be putting cuffs on you and placing you in the back of that patrol car. But I tell you what I’m gonna do.”
Marcie looked up, her eyes were swollen and her face was red. If it wasn’t for the stone cold heart that was incapable of feeling, no one would ever know it wasn’t real. “I will personally drop you off at the emergency room and let them give you an examination and then we can fill out a report, or the other option is taking you downtown for grand theft auto. Understood?”
Marcie nodded and tried to control her sporadic breathing. She climbed into the patrol car and sat silently, wondering what the next episode of her life would bring. Suddenly feeling nauseous and on the verge of a mental breakdown, if she thought she could pull it off, she’d try and get them to keep her. If only there was a pill or drug strong enough to make her forget the pain forever, but they always wore off too quickly, leaving her feeling more empty and hollow than before. She shut her eyes and began to hum a song that she always could relate to.
“Addiction keeps her up at night. Yeah, it steals her sunny days. She'll tell you she was adopted if you ever meet her family. She wears mascara too thick now and her eyes bleed black tears but she'll give you a smile through the pain, yeah the pain helps her feel . . . She says she can hear Jesus calling her, he calls out in her dreams.”
Letters
Chapter 56
Desiree sat on the couch across from her grandmom and looked into the soft, blue eyes that held such wisdom. She felt close to having a major meltdown, but she knew she couldn’t. Needing advice and desperate for answers, she began to pour out her heart.
“Grandmom, I had horrible nightmares last night. I barely slept at all. I have so much to tell you that I don’t even know where to begin, and I have so many questions for God. I can’t seem to figure out why my life is so drastically different from everyone else’s. I’m so frazzled and worn out from being a single mom. The guilt is unbelievable. I want to be joyful and strong for them but I’m not, and I don’t have much quality time to give. It seems like everyone I work with has a husband or an ex-husband to help out with the care. It sounds like a bad dream. Why did God allow John to be killed on the way to the grocery store? My life is a complete disaster. I mean how many people do you know come home from work to find a crazy old man wearing their deceased husband’s clothes, sitting on their sofa? Yeah, some stranger just sitting on the couch like it’s the most ordinary thing in the world. To top it all off, I have a son whose best friend is an imaginary angel name Belinda,” her voice was rising with each sentence. “And now, Bradford’s
long lost son happens to be Benjamin Stewart--the Benjamin Stewart that murdered my husband! Tell me grandmom what horribly wicked sin did I commit for all this to happen? Why is God punishing me so much?” Her face was beet red and her neck and chest were covered in hives, big red blotches. She wished she had a cigarette and began to chew her fingernails.
Grandmom sat there as peaceful as could be. Her eyes were calm and her expression had not changed. She looked down and picked up her Bible off the end table. “See this book Desiree. This book is filled with people’s lives that have stories just like yours. God used them all and he will use you too. King David’s own son tried to murder him. Joseph’s own brothers threw him into a pit and sold him to slave traders. Daniel was thrown into a den of hungry lions, and Naomi not only lost her husband like you, but both her sons died too. She said, “don’t call me Naomi call me Mara for God has made me bitter.” So you see Desiree, to blame this all on God or think that he is out to punish you is just not the truth. God will take the pieces, the fragments of your life, and he will put them together if you will give them to him. Now, what is going on with Bradford?”
Desiree began to confide in her about the previous night’s horrific display in the middle of the restaurant and then about the horrible dreams of Benjamin and Jesus. She was crying and couldn’t seem to shake the vivid pictures from her dream.
“Do you really think you are hurting Benjamin by holding on to this hatred and rage or have you ever thought that you are truly hurting yourself and, yes, even those children. Now, Desiree, I’m going to be honest with you. Bradford has been the best thing that’s happened to you in a long time. Why, it’s been the first time I’ve seen you take an interest in your appearance and even see a hint of happiness in your eyes in I don’t know how long. He’s a good man and he really cares about you. How can he help what his son did? He’s just now found him. Forgiveness isn’t something that just happens because we say we forgive. It takes time and energy and prayer. If you are ever going to move on with your life and find the true peace, you are going to have to forgive him. You do not know what led up to his son getting drunk that night. We don’t have all the information. You and Bradford may have come to a close in your relationship because of this, but to be angry and hold all this hatred, it will only keep you as dead as John. Give it to God, Desiree.”
Desiree tried to soak in her words and listen. “I know grandmom, but it hurts, it hurts so badly.”
“You are going to have to let this go and give it to God. This young man was a child. He made a huge mistake and he has paid for it every day, I am sure of that. Living with another man’s blood on your hands at such an early age, well, I just can’t imagine. Maybe if you knew more about this young man and tried to erase from your mind the images you have conjured up to be true because I know you have Des. I know that you picture this young teen out joy riding drunk without a care in the world, but I bet there’s a story there. Everyone in this life has a story, Desiree, just like the ones I told you about in this book.”
Desiree gazed back down at the worn Bible and back up at her grandmom’s gentle eyes. For the first time, she tried to think about how Bradford must feel. She knew her grandmom was right, but she didn’t understand the pain she had been through. How could she? How could anyone?
Hugging her grandmom, she got the children’s things together. All she wanted to do was go to bed. She was hung over, tired and drained from all the emotions of the last few days. Tomorrow she had to work, and she had no idea how to face Bradford. There wasn’t much she did know anymore.
She drove home in a fog. Josh was talking up a storm and telling story after story about grandmom and everything they did. Desiree couldn’t even hear him. Her mind was so full of anxiety and sorrow she just kept nodding her head and saying, “That’s nice Josh.”
They pulled into the driveway and Desiree pulled Tabitha out of her car seat and grabbed their overnight bag. She walked up the driveway feeling more and more sluggish with each step. Inside, Jackie was cooing and jumping at the sound of Josh, and both children seemed happy to be at home. Desiree laid the keys on the table and sat down on the sofa. She noticed Josh’s journal was still lying out on the sofa, picked it up and began to flip through the pages, staring intently at the colorful drawing with the balloons, then turned the page. Each page was filled with letters and every letter was addressed to Daddy. Desiree’s heart sank in her chest as she read over each word scribbled with red crayon, all written in her little boy’s handwriting.
“Goodbye, Daddy. Daddy, you are my best friend. You are my most wonderful friend and my best friend in the whole universe.”
“I miss you, Daddy, you’re my best friend in the whole wide world and bester then all my friends and I miss you, Daddy. You’re so smart and I miss you.”
“Tabitha is going to miss you playing in her sandbox. We went to Chuck E Cheese today. I wish you could have come. The sun was shining today. I hope it’s sunny in heaven.
We’re getting ready to watch Space Buddies. I love you. I’ll write more tomorrow.”
“Daddy, you’re a good Dad and we been to your memorial and I love you and you’re my best friend in the whole entire world out of all of my friends. I have a collection of buttons and I have a hockey medal. Bye. We’ll miss you forever. We have a new neighbor named Walter and his wife Ruthie is in heaven with you, Daddy. I whittled tonight on a stick. It rained here today. I’ll write more later.”
“Dear Daddy, I have a new friend named Belinda, she is an angel. I still miss you. I saw a baseball card that I really wanted to buy you. I’ll write you again soon. Love Josh.”
“Daddy, you will never believe I got a new bird named Jackie. She can play with you and she is nice. Her feathers are soft. We’re going to do a field trip to the aquarium and I wish you could come too. We still really miss you.”
“Dear Daddy, I played hide and go seek today. I met a man named Bradford and he took me to a doctor and she had Play-Doh factory and I made really cool stuff. Tonight we’re gonna watch a movie and have popcorn with it! I miss you and you’re my best friend.”
Desiree looked down at the scribbled pages and wept. Her heart was shattered. How did God expect her to deal with so much pain? She could not imagine how he could expect her to keep breathing. She felt so much ache and anguish for her son. “Oh God help me!” She cried out, just as Josh walked over to the couch.
“Do you like my letters to Daddy?”
Desiree wiped her eyes and shoved the lump down from her throat. “I sure do, Josh! They are the best letters I’ve ever read!”
“I have the bestest idea, Mommy! I’m going to keep writing Daddy and then we can get more balloons like the ones with the notes we sent up to heaven. And we can tie my notebook and a pencil to it and then we can let it float up to Daddy. Then Daddy can write back to me, pop the balloon, and send it back down!”
Desiree took Josh in her arms and held him. She held him like she had never held him before. She held him with all the love and comfort and emotion she could penetrate into his broken heart. Then when she could finally speak without her voice cracking, she explained that Daddy couldn’t send it back down, but that he could write a journal to his daddy, and then we could pray that God would let Daddy see the words. Josh put his head down and thought about it for a moment, and he seemed alright with her explanation. He picked up the journal and went and sat down by the television and began to look through the pages. He seemed to be studying each drawing and each letter very intently. Then he came bouncing back to the couch with his notebook in hand. He was smiling so proudly and his dimples were showing.
“Mommy, I know how I’m going to get my journal to Daddy! I’m going to write in it every day for as long as I live, and then when I die I’ll put it in my hand in my coffee and take it to him myself!” His eyes lit up and Desiree’s heart continued to bleed. She opened her arms and once again embraced her son until he squirmed free from her clutches.
Goodb
yes
Chapter 57
Buddy was coming to terms with the realization that in a matter of minutes Walter Kendal would be stepping out of his rig and awaiting his destiny. He wondered what would become of this wise ole friend that had crossed his path. Buddy was never good with saying goodbye, and it was going to be hard for him to let Walter leave and turn himself in. Although Buddy had met many different people throughout his travels, he had a feeling Walter was special. For some reason, he felt like God was watching over Walter and that it was all going to work out fine no matter how bad the circumstance looked. He was almost certain they’d cross paths again. Yes, he was sure he’d meet up again with his ole friend in time.
“You’re going to take a right up here at the light, Buddy, and then follow the road down to the cemetery.”
“Okay Walt, I see it.” Buddy downshifted into third and then second to make the turn. His belly was jiggling and his seat was bouncing, keeping time with his Hawaiian hula dancer on the dash.
Walter turned and intently looked at Buddy. He would miss this man who had taken him to breakfast, dinner, and even to play pool, but he knew it was time for him to part ways for a season. “I want to thank you Buddy for all your help, all the meals and especially the company. I don’t know where I would be right now if it weren’t for you.” But before Buddy could reply, Walter chuckled and looked over at Buddy again and said, “Actually I do, behind bars more than likely!”
Buddy smiled, “Don’t say that Walt, let’s stay positive.” Buddy studied his friend and chose his words carefully. “Walter, I know you are innocent. The police will figure out that you meant no harm to that boy. Now I’m going to be watching the news and I’ll give you my number and we will get you an attorney, hear?”
Walter nodded his head, not wanting to think about a life behind bars. He gazed out at the statue of the angel that seemed to welcome everyone to the grounds. Her long carved hair draped around her breast and gave way to her flowing gown. Her perfectly chiseled doe eyes gazed forward and held him. Her face seemed so serene and peaceful as she stood to watch over the spirits that lay there. Arched wings hovered behind her with such glory, and her graying marble didn’t give justice to her craftsmanship. The trees seem to envelop her beauty, but not overshadow it.
Walter The Homeless Man Page 24