by WC Child
I felt possessed as I made my way from the couch into the kitchen. The knife made a swooshing noise when I withdrew it from the block. The sounds echoed in my ear and encouraged me to avenge my honor. I wondered how my mother felt as she prepared to settle the score with my attacker. Did she envision my assault? Could she hear my tears screaming for help? Did her rage masquerade as courage as she made her way toward their bedroom? Was it the face of her own attacker she saw when his appendage, the source of his pride and the weapon of his abuse, lay lifeless and non-threatening in her hand? Did his screams validate her juvenile pain? Did she think of the consequences that would follow after the anger subsided? Whatever she felt, it was all justified. But I didn’t have time to linger on those past decisions. It was time for me to take back my innocence.
The hallway beckoned me to move forward into my past. Beyond its end was his safe haven; the place where he had stumbled to after depositing years of damage within my core. I began to re-trace his steps from decades ago. I was stealthy in my approach, and mimicked the youthful quiet pilgrimage to eavesdrop on Big Mama’s conversations.
I cautiously peeked into the room and heard the snoring sounds that accompanied his respite from the cares of the world. He lay there in comfort, not knowing how his cowardice had impacted my life. I became irritated that he could lay there as if nothing abnormal happened. He displayed no shame; no remorse. My anger continued to build and I became fixated on exactly how and where to focus my efforts.
My mental map of the room allowed me to quietly make my way to the bed without turning on the light. I stood over him, in turmoil, as he lay peacefully sleeping. With each elongated blink, the face on the pillow changed from the past to the present abuser. My emotions wandered between each realm. The bundled rage continued to creep up my spine and through my eyes; eyes which in that moment saw the face of my discontent. I needed to settle the score with him and to take back my power. It would be so easy to attack him as deceitfully as I had been for his distasteful pleasure. It would be so easy to just slide under the covers and entice the serpent to make an appearance before making him pay for his sins. It would be my chance to conquer his mind and body as violently as mine had been. I needed to see him writhing in pain. The expression of anguish would be audible retribution for his past wrongs. Somewhere from within, a voice kept shouting at me to use my rage to exact my revenge. “Now, do it now. Punish him for your hurt; punish him for your pain. Give him what he deserves. Now, do it now!”
With the knife firmly in my hand, I leaned over the bed and moved back the covers in search of his weapon. Without warning, the baby violently moved against my insides. It caused me to wince in pain. I fell to my knees beside the bed, dropped the knife to the floor and began to rub my stomach. My baby’s voice never reached the atmosphere, but I heard its plea. It reminded me that both of us would lose if I exacted revenge. I would become no better than the ones I despised. The loudspeaker in my head paused long enough to interrupt the corrupt instructions that were playing in my mind. The silence allowed me to redirect my focus toward the future, not the noise of my past. Because I had found my own peace, I allowed my tormentor’s sleep to continue. Karma would find its way to his world without my help.
With the help of my unborn child, I found my moment of clarity. I realized I was better than those who sought to destroy me. No matter whose face was on the pillow at the moment of my attack, my child and I would also end up being punished. I had served every day of my mother’s imprisonment with her. I didn’t want to sentence my child to the same. There were many things about my nights of sorrow that were comparable, but losing the ability to be with my child would not be one of them. I had no right to vengeance; I only had the right to the truth I already knew. Nothing could be gained when compared to what I would lose. If I had carried out my revenge, I would have aborted my chance at finally being a mother. My family’s legacy of maternal regret had to end with me. The only appendage that needed to be separated from Ben’s body was me. I had to take back my power differently than my mother; not with anger, but with courage. I realized how close I had come to disaster. It scared me.
My freedom and my happiness were up to me. I had to stop giving someone else dominion over my life. I required nothing more from either of the men who temporarily caused the disruption of my life’s path. They would have no more power over me than I was willing to concede. I became inspired by the self-determination that replaced the confusion in my mind and the knife in my hand. I was ready to let go of everything that tied me to those men, except my child. In order for my own healing to begin, I had to separate myself and my child from the aura of abuse and deception. After tomorrow, more chaos would be expelled from my life.
Chapter 51
Baggage
The morning welcomed me with the sound of his stirring in the next room. Even though my sleep had been interrupted by an excursion into dark places, I felt refreshed. The decision to exit the bedroom and close the door on things I couldn’t change was sound. I had allowed the spirit and the truth of restoration to inhabit my place of comfort and peace. After last night’s revelation and my courtship with vengeance, I recognized how drastic the changes in my life had to be. I felt like a rubber band that had been stretched too far, too long. The tension may have gone away, but I would never be in the same shape before those pressure filled moments. I would try, but I was not sure when I would be able to snap back.
As much as I wanted to confront him, I knew I wasn’t ready. Until last night, most things had been done on Ben’s terms. This time they would be on mine. But first, I needed to rid myself of a mind full of unhealthy thoughts before I could have a rational conversation with the poser. He had posed as a single man, but he was clearly married. Hours ago, I overheard his plans to celebrate another wedding anniversary. He had posed as someone who longed for children, but he had tried to turn me into the killer of my own dreams to protect his lies. He already had a child. He posed as someone with whom I could build a future, but there was no future for us. I would soon be his past. My recent discovery represented a betrayal of my intimacy. It tore down parts of the self-esteem wall I spent years rebuilding. I had allowed him to get close enough to infect my heart with hope, only to have it ripped out of my chest. I would be forever changed by those events.
I heard him talking in the other room before I felt him standing over me. I continued to lay motionless on the sofa. I pretended to be asleep. I mastered that game in my youth. My arm was positioned over my face so I could view his movements undetected. He lingered momentarily in the kitchen before I heard him leave. The note on the counter explained he went out for breakfast and didn’t want to wake me. I estimated I had about twenty minutes before his return. During that time, I gathered his belongings and mentally prepared myself for the confrontation that could not be avoided.
After all of his things were out of my bedroom, I sat silently on the sofa awaiting his return. My mind would not stay still and went searching for the unknown. My world had been saturated with lies and fantasies. I wasn’t sure where deception ended and truth began. There was so much more about that man that I didn’t know. I began to question every action and nuance of our relationship. Who was he? What about him was real? Was I the business trip excuse for his family? Was I some game that had gone overtime with the visitor being in control? What would be his end-game? I began to wonder how he would react when his secret was finally revealed and what his plans would be for me.
In the midst of my pondering, my mind changed directions from Ben to my mother. My shame was enormous. I was so conflicted about whether or not to share this information with her. I didn’t know how I would be able to face my mother with this news. The verbal assault I launched on her vividly replayed in my mind. I remembered the pained look in her eyes. I didn't want her eyes or her words to add to the guilt I would be forced to endure. Big Mama once challenged me to keep living if I had not yet made any mistakes I regretted. Since that
time, I had encountered many regrets. My pile continued to grow.
Chapter 52
Exposed
My heartbeat quickened when I heard the keys jingling in the door. I fidgeted with my clothes and hair. I wondered if Ben would be able to see how much I had changed overnight. I possessed more strength than I realized. I had summoned the courage to walk away because I understood how powerful I had become. Those thoughts inspired me as I moved closer to my first honest glance at the father of my child.
When Ben walked through the door, the first words out of his mouth were “Hey baby”. I cringed at his salutation, the same as I did last night. My mind got stuck on his choice of words and I missed most of his initial conversation. My attention was lured away by curiosity. I looked closely at his left hand, trying to find any indication that a wedding band had occupied that reserved space. I saw nothing but the unblemished continuation of the skin attached to the hands of a man who brought me joy and at times, greater pain. But those hands would no longer be allowed to roam the hills and valleys of my body in search of sacred hollows. I feared my skin would scream if I allowed any physical connection with that married man. I accepted the fact that his last caress had been his final curtain call before our union faded to black.
I returned my attention to his face and tried to absorb the words Ben was intent on sharing. His mouth was moving, but I didn’t internalize any of his words. His voice was too normal and his mood too pleasant for someone who harbored such despicable lies and unmeasurable dishonesty. No matter what phrases came from his mouth, my ears only heard the voice of deceit from someone whose aura was tarnished by the truth.
I knew it was inevitable, but I wasn’t mentally prepared for the meeting of our eyes. I briefly searched his eyes for yesterday’s innocence, but only saw last night’s betrayal. After our eyes disconnected, I stared at his face. I wasn’t sure who I was looking at. I wasn’t sure I even knew his real name. I fought the urge to rub his face. I wanted to see if part of the mask he had been wearing since that day in the coffee shop would somehow rub off. I wanted to see the real person underneath the mask, but I realized it was his protection. It only allowed me to see what Ben wanted to reveal. I had trusted him above my mother. I would pay dearly for my unwise decision.
I tried to corral my feelings, but in the aftermath of his deceit, I lost control. Once I opened my mouth, the words flowed clearly and forcefully in his direction. “Why didn't you tell me you were married? Why didn't you let me choose whether or not I wanted to participate in adultery?” How would you do this to me?”
His expression and his demeanor reeked of guilt. He nervously chuckled and tried to avoid giving me a straight answer. “What makes you think I’m married? Have you been talking to your meddling mother again?”
“No, but I will be sure to call her after you leave. I am still waiting on an answer. Why didn't you tell me you were married?”
“Wow, I go out for twenty minutes and I return home to a crazy person. What’s going on with you? Where is all of this coming from? Whoever is filling your head with the notion that I am married is a liar.”
I audibly agreed. He stayed in denial until I recounted the side of the conversation I overheard. The surprised look on his face confirmed that the depth of my knowledge exceeded his forthrightness. My words were a gut check for him. The tension brewing within Ben became more evident. There was nothing he could say to negate my words. His lies had been exposed. We both knew it.
He attempted to move toward me, but no clear pathway was available. I had made a conscious effort to keep distance and obstacles between us as we continued to discuss his lies and my disappointment. The more I revealed, the more agitated Ben became. He cleared his throat to start an explanation, but I interrupted his train of thought with more of my authoritative stance. I made it abundantly clear that I no longer wanted to see his deceitful face. His place was at home with his wife and child. Whatever he wanted to tell them would be his decision. I had no intention of revealing any parts of our liaison. It was not my truth to tell. He would have to find his own words. He would have to be responsible for announcing the destruction of his own family.
I said my peace and demanded he leave my home immediately. He threw his hands up in submission, collected his belongings and started walking toward my door for the last time. I wanted to tell him that the only communication he would ever get from me again would be from my attorney. He had earned the right to pay child support and I would be honored to help him fulfill his obligation. But those thoughts remained entombed in my mind. I concluded it would be wise to avoid that topic until later if I wanted any chance of getting him out of my home for good.
Accepting the fact that he would be walking out of my door for the last time was harder than I wanted to admit. We had made so many plans that were worth no more than the breath of air it took to spill those sounds into the universe. The foundation I thought I was standing on took on the consistency of quicksand. I sank under the weight of unattainable aspirations. He was going back to his happy home. I would be left to pick up the pieces of my fractured life and try to move forward. It seemed unfair that he was getting a free pass without having to face any immediate consequences. I was sure that when he closed that door behind him, both my child and I would be as insignificant as the crumbs that fell onto the floor from last week’s meal. No one appreciated that those small pieces had been part of something whole. Last night I decided against harming him physically. Instead, I opted to attack him mentally.
I knew I had gone too far when I told him, “You are nothing but a pathetic, adulterous, coward. I look forward to the day your child calls some other man daddy.”
When Ben turned around and faced me, I saw the evil from his soul spilling out through his eyes. He was enraged. His body language and the anger etched on his face caused me to question my safety.
Chapter 53
Trapped
When Ben made the sudden movement toward me, I knew he was about to cross a line that would not end well for any of us. I had two choices...run or run faster. I chose the latter. My attempts were thwarted by the depths of his contempt for me and his desire to punish me for my maternal arrogance. I felt like the mouse being toyed with by a not so playful cat whose intentions were less than prosperous for the prey. His physical body and his rage stood between me and freedom. I realized we were both trapped; he in his lies with me standing in his way and me in my date with destiny.
The first blow he landed across my face was enough to get his point across, but clearly, he thought otherwise. He continued to inflict his punishment on my fragile gestational body. I could feel and hear the cracking of my bones as the full force of his fist made contact with my face. The blood that filled my mouth breached one of its corners. It found its way onto the floor and against the wall. My legs tried to stay strong, but retreated in their effort to keep me standing. I fell violently to the floor like a rag doll. I wanted to plead for my life and the life of our child, but I was unwilling to give him that satisfaction. I prepared myself for the next blow. I knew I was out of natural options for escape. In desperation, I prayed for a force field to magically appear and protect me and my baby; anything to bring me some relief and to make this attack end.
The hope of having that prayer answered evaporated with the next kick to my lower back and the numbing pain that claimed its place in my body. Somehow, in the midst of all that was going on, my only thoughts were to protect my child. With all that I had, I was willing to protect that life with mine. Maybe I would find redemption in the next life by allowing the world to experience the treasure I sheltered from harm. I had wished many times that my first child would never see the light of day and fate sided with me. Maybe it would be in my corner again as I sought to have the opportunity to groom this one for greatness.
I learned from my first attacker that power was their ultimate weapon. Stillness became my ally. As hard as it was to accomplish, the next blow ga
rnered no reaction beyond the physical movements brought about by gravity. I had learned well to fake being asleep while at Big Mama's. I hoped Ben could be deceived as craftily as he had been earlier. Our lives depended on it. The walls reverberated with no whimper, no reaction, and no sound, except those made by him, evidenced by the sounds of extreme effort escaping his throat as his foot landed another powerful blow. Then, it was over. He believed he had conquered my physical body. He stood over me admiring his handiwork as he struggled to bring his breathing under control. I kept waiting for the sound of the squeaky hinges to indicate his departure as the sound of his footsteps moved away from me and closer to the door. The footsteps stopped, but unexpectedly changed direction. Their cadence quickened as they headed back toward me. My mind rapidly tried to find a scenario that would coincide with those facts. I tried to prepare myself for what was next. In a moment of temporary insanity, I wanted to believe that maybe his fit of rage was over and out of remorse, he was coming back to help me. He didn’t rescue me. He kicked me again as hard as he could in my stomach. Because I had instinctively retreated into myself using the fetal position, I had been able to partially shield my midsection with my arm. My entire body dislodged from its previous position and marked its new territory with my motionless form. My body surrendered, even though I had no white flag to wave. I fought to conceal my consciousness and control the human urge to cry out in distress. I didn't move, but the baby did. It let me know that its life continued despite the efforts of its father. At least one of us could rejoice. Then, as calmly as Ben entered the apartment, he left. The door shut and the lock clicked. He was really gone. He had completed his cowardly task. The condition of my body provided the evidence of the finality of his purpose. He was in search of his freedom. After all, he had an anniversary celebration with his wife to attend.