The McCoys of Holy Rock

by Shelia E. Bell

  “I’m sorry,” she mouthed in a low whisper from the hospital bed. She had been shot twice by one or more of the armor bearers; once in her left arm and another bullet entered her stomach. Her heart rate was extremely low, and Hezekiah was told it was only a matter of time before Margaret would succumb to her injuries. Her age played a factor in her dim prognosis combined with the fact that she had pancreatic cancer and a weak heart.

  Connected to tubes and machines she struggled to talk. "Horace,” she said slowly, calling him by his birth name. “I'm sorry things had to be like this, but I do want you to know that I love you, son."

  Hezekiah stood next to her bed and listened. He held her hand as he watched her struggle to breathe through the oxygen mask.

  "Please believe me."

  "Tell me, are you really my mother?"

  “Yes. Yours and Stiles.”

  "Why? Why couldn't you tell me this when I was a kid. Why now?"

  "I did what I thought was best for you. I knew that Tonya loved you just as much as I did and I know you loved her too. She gave you a good home, raised you to love the Lord, all the things that I wasn't mentally able to do. I wanted what was best for you."

  "But why, why did you have to kill all those innocent people? You could have just told me the truth. You didn't have to do what you did."

  "I felt so hopeless. I guess I wanted your father to pay because I couldn’t make Audrey pay. I wanted him to know how much he hurt me. The two of them stole everything from me. I had nothing to lose. Before I came here, I was told that I had no more than four months to live."

  "What? Four months?"

  "Yes, I was already a dead woman walking with nothing to lose because I already lost everything. I have stage four pancreatic cancer, the same disease Tonya died from."

  Hezekiah began to weep. "I'm sorry, so sorry. I just wish you had said all of this a long time ago."

  "I know and I'm sorry, but I love you so much. Tell your brother I love him too. Believe me when I say that I didn't mean to hurt either of you. I want you to have a real relationship with him. Promise me that.”

  Hezekiah slowly nodded in agreement.

  “Be the best you can be at Holy Rock. Don't let anyone intimidate you or make you back away from what God has called you to do. You hear me?"

  Hezekiah slowly nodded again.

  "Now that you know the truth I want you to make Chauncey Graham pay. All this is his fault. If he had only listened to me when I told him I was pregnant with you, but he wouldn’t. He didn’t want you and he didn’t want me." Margaret pushed the automatic pain medication at her side and shortly after closed her eyes. The strong medication rendered her unconscious.

  Hezekiah remained standing by her side until Fancy walked into the ICU room and took hold of his hand. She leaned against his shoulder and held him around his waist. When she heard him exhale, she took it as a sign that it was time to leave. She gently guided her husband away from Margaret's bedside and led him out of the room.

  One hour later. Alone. Margaret died.

  19

  “Everybody’s journey is individual. James Baldwin

  Several weeks after the Holy Rock Massacre, the dead had been laid to rest and life continued, not standing still for anyone. The tally from the massacre included seven dead, eleven people wounded, three of them with serious but non-life threatening injuries and eight with minor injuries which included Xavier. Xavier experienced no residual complaints or problems from the flesh wound in his left arm. He was more traumatized than anything, having been in the midst of the shootings. He was thankful that his life had been spared.

  Trying to get back to normal, he and Raymone, had plans to go check out a movie they’d both wanted to see. It was a rare occasion, but Fancy agreed to let him drive, so he scooped up Raymone and they headed to the movie theatre.

  Xavier and Raymone had been friends ever since Raymone started at Holy Rock Upper School. Raymone was a year younger but they were both seniors. Neither of them wanted anyone to know that they were engaged in a homosexual relationship.

  Xavier started having feelings for the same sex when he was in eighth grade. He didn't know what brought it on, only that instead of finding himself attracted to girls, he was more interested in boys, and often fantasized about being in a relationship with one. He knew what he had been taught all of his life about homosexuality, that it was wrong and a sin. But he still couldn't keep his feelings at bay. So he hid them as much as he could. He talked to girls occasionally, got a phone number every now and then, and as he grew older and started dating, he took a few of them out, but he didn't feel that spark, didn't want to take it any farther than a meal or a movie and being platonic friends.

  When he met Raymone, he felt an immediate attraction and it wasn’t long before he realized that Raymone was battling the same homosexual demons. They never openly talked about their sexual preferences; it went unsaid. They had never crossed the line with each other sexually, but they made out ever chance they got.

  Unlike Xavier, Raymone's parents and siblings knew about his homosexuality and loved and accepted him for who he was. It was the main reason that Xavier felt comfortable whenever he was at Raymone's house. The whole family treated him like he was a normal kid and didn't pass judgment on him.

  Raymone's father talked to Xavier when he arrived to pick up Raymone for the movie. “Xavier, son, do you mind if I talk to you for a minute.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “Follow me,” Raymone’s father said.

  Xavier joined him outside on the patio.

  “I want to know that while we don’t condone homosexuality, we accept Raymone for who he is, and we love him unconditionally. By the same token, whenever you are in our home we want you to feel welcome. I want you to know that me or my wife, or Raymone’s siblings, will never disclose anything to anyone outside of this home. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir. And thank you, thank you for that.”

  “I still think you should sit down and talk to your parents," he told Xavier. "It will eat away at you until you do, son."

  "Yes, sir. I know. It just never seems like the right time. Plus, I don't know what my parents will say or do. My dad preaches about homosexuality all the time.” Xavier looked away, pushed his black framed designer eyeglasses up on his nose, and hooked one elbow over the backrest of his chair. “He makes sure his congregation knows that the Bible says it's a sin. I don't want to shame my dad or my mother. But I just want to be me."

  "God understands, and if your father is truly a man of God, which I believe that he is, then he won't judge you. Now he may not agree with your choice but that doesn't mean that he won't love you just the same. There’s a lot of misconception about how Christians look at people who are gay or lesbian. They think we hate homosexuals, and that’s so far from the truth. Again, I don’t like the fact that Raymone, and you, are gay, but I love my son and I would die for him if I had to. Do you understand where I’m coming from?"

  "Yes, sir. Thanks for the advice, and for understanding," Xavier said. He looked over his shoulder and saw Raymone standing at the patio door.

  “When you’re done talking, come to my room so we can finish up our game before we leave for the movies.”

  “I’m done talking, son. You can go,” he said, patting Xavier on his shoulder. “But just know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here,” Raymone’s father assured him.

  Xavier and Raymone spent some time playing Elder Scrolls then turned their attention online to one of the sites they frequented. They engaged in conversation via private messenger with other gay teens and young adults.

  "Now that you’ve talked to my dad, what do you think about telling your parents that you're gay?" asked Raymone.

  "I don’t know. But I probably won’t do it anytime soon. Too much has been going on. I don't want to make things worse by coming out now."

  "I know, but I'm just saying, the longer you wait the harder it's goin
g to be."

  "Your parents are way different than mine. They're cool with you being gay, but my parents are not like that. They're going to stuff the Bible down my throat and I don't want to deal with that."

  "Have it your way, but I'm just saying, you still need to tell 'em sooner or later."

  "Yeah, it'll be later then...much later."

  "I hear ya. Well, let’s shut this down and get outta here. The movie starts in an hour."

  "I’m with ya."

  "Mom…Dad, we're leaving," Raymone shouted as he and Xavier headed to the front door.

  His mother appeared. "You boys be safe out there. And Xavier, drive carefully. You don't want the police to have any excuse to pull you over. Enough of our black boys are being murdered and locked up as it is, all for no reason. But remember what I told you both. If the police do stop you, make sure you let him know beforehand every move you are about to make. If he asks for your driver’s license and registration, tell him where it is and then tell him when you are about to pull out your license and when you're reaching for your registration. Don't make any sudden moves. You understand?"

  "Yes, ma’am," Xavier said followed by Raymone.

  The teens walked outside to Xavier’s car parked on the curb in front of Raymone’s house. The night air was breezy but warm for a fall night. Stars sparkled and you could hear a dog or two barking in the neighborhood.

  "Your parents are straight," Xavier said as the friends approached Xavier's car.

  "Yeah, they aight."

  "Mane, I wish I could talk to my parents like you talk to yours. But I already know how they’ll react. Especially my dad."

  "Yeah, I hear ya. But at some point they're going to start wondering why you don't have a girlfriend, you know?"

  "Yeah they're already asking that. My brother too. I got to tell 'em. I don't know when or how."

  "You'll figure it out. For now, don't sweat it. Let's go check out this movie and have a good time. You feel me?"

  "Yeah, I feel ya."

  20

  Family is supposed to be our safe haven. Most often it’s the place where we find the deepest heartache.

  Iyanla Vanzant

  After walking on the river and strolling along Beale Street, Khalil and Dee dined at the restaurant B.B. Kings. They listened to some blues band and chatted while they waited on their food.

  "I hope you've enjoyed your birthday so far," Dee told Khalil."

  "Thanks, I have." He eyed his wrist again and smiled at the expensive timepiece Dee had gifted him.

  "So, you have a three-year old kid, huh?"

  "Yes. His name is Elijah." Dee scrolled through the pictures on her cell phone until she arrived at the various pictures of her son. She proceeded to show Khalil pictures of the boy.

  "Why don’t I ever see him around?"

  "He lives mostly with his father and his wicked stepmother."

  "Umm, I take it you two don't get along, huh?

  "That's an understatement. But my kid seems to like her."

  "How do you feel about that?" questioned Khalil.

  Dee shrugged. "It is what it is."

  "And you were married to Stiles Graham," Khalil grimaced.

  "Yes, I sure was. I find it hilarious now."

  "Why is that?" asked Khalil.

  "Well, come on now. Can you picture me as the First Lady?" Dee laughed.

  Khalil chuckled. "I bet you were an awesome First Lady," Khalil said, leaning in and kissing Dee on the lips.

  "I don't think your uncle would agree."

  "He's not my uncle. I don't care what my Aunt Margaret said before she died. It's all so crazy. I'm just glad everything is over. Hey, let me ask you something."

  "Sure. What?"

  "You were part of their family at one time so why didn't you go to his sister's funeral? Was it because you didn't want to see him or what?"

  "I don't want any dealings with Stiles, with any of the Grahams for that matter. They're all a bunch of fake, lying hypocrites. You, of all people, should know that after hearing what your aunt, uhhh, your grandmother…anyway, after hearing what she said. I always knew that family was up to no good. Stiles was always quick to condemn other people when he should be the last one to talk."

  "I hear ya."

  "Have your father and the Grahams talked yet? I wonder what it's going to mean for your family and theirs now that y'all are supposed to be related."

  "They're supposed to be meeting up sometime next week. It took a while for everyone to digest the news. My dad isn't too happy knowing that his biological father didn't want anything to do with him or Aunt Margaret. That's sad, mane. How can dude have a son, knows he has a son, and then raise somebody else's kid but has nothing to do with his own flesh and blood. I used to respect Reverend Graham but now that I see what kind of man he really is, all respect is gone. I hate guys like him who do all that religious talk but then their own house is messed up."

  "Yea, I'm sorry for what your father must be going through. And the fact that he didn't get the chance to know his mother as his mother, that's sad. And to have a daddy that was more than a deadbeat, the man actually chose not to be in his life."

  "Yeah, fa sho. But look, we're supposed to be celebrating my birthday. I don't want to spend any more time talking about my family drama."

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

  "You are not prying, but since we're speaking of family, I want you to come to a birthday dinner my family is having for me this Saturday. My mom always makes a big deal out of our birthdays. She loves any reason to entertain. There won't be many people there, just a few close friends. You in?"

  "Uhhh, I don't know, Khalil. I don't want to ruin your family's time with you. I mean, what are they going to say about you seeing me? And when they find out that I'm Stiles' ex-wife, among other things,” she said, clearing her throat, “everything will hit the fan."

  "You mean to tell me that you're worried about what other people think? Come on now, not you. Not Lady Dee.," Khail chuckled. "I want you there. Don't deny me."

  "I'll think about it, okay? But I won't make any promises."

  "Cool. But you better believe I'm going to do everything I possibly can to persuade you," he said leaning in again and this time nibbling on her neck and earlobe.

  "Khalil, you're going to start something."

  "Exactly what I'm trying to do," he teased.

  The server brought their food to the table.

  "Let's eat and get out of here so I can give you your real birthday present." Dee laughed then took a bite of her food.

  "Umm, I can't wait," Khalil said, biting into his smoked beef brisket burger.

  ‡

  "Dang, girl. You look like you just stepped off of a magazine cover." The image before him made him want to drool.

  Being that money was no object for her, Dee had shelled out big bucks for the black Valentino embroidered-tulle cocktail dress with a jewel neckline. She looked stunning. She was set on looking beautiful and elegant. It didn't matter that she was only going to the McCoy's house and not some ultra-exclusive place. From what she already knew about Fancy and Hezekiah, they were flashy people who loved everything that money could buy so she wanted to look better than her best. Khalil didn't impress her as that type but she spared no expense on him. The timepiece she preferred to call it that she bought him for his birthday cost her a couple of grand, but it meant nothing to Dee. She believed in sparing no expense when it came to something she wanted, and she wanted Khalil.

  She hadn't told her sister, Brooke, about him yet, and had no plans on telling her or her parents that she was seeing someone again. For now, it wasn't their business. If the relationship between her and Khalil turned serious then maybe it would be her turn to take him around her family, but until then, she was content on things being as they were.

  "Thank you, baby. I want to make a good impression." Dee smiled.

  "Forget my family; you've made your point and from what you’ve tol
d me, you all already know each other quite well.”

  “True. Fancy and I worked closely together when I was the first lady. And Pastor McCoy, well let’s just say, he came through for me when I lost my baby girl. I owe him a lot. But it’s a whole other subject when they find out that I’m sleeping with their son.”

  “You know something?”

  “What?”

  “You're impressing me so much right now that I'm thinking we should stay here and have our own private celebration." Khalil walked up to her and grabbed her into his arms and kissed her feverishly.

  "Khalil, stop it. You're going to mess up my makeup."

  "I can't help it. I can't get enough of you."

  "You are just going to have to control yourself. After we leave your birthday dinner, we'll come back here or go christen your new apartment."

  "Yea, I like that idea." Khalil smiled, took hold of Dee by her waist and they set out to go to his parents' house.

  Khalil pulled up and parked behind several cars already at his parents' house. He went to the passenger's side and opened the door for his lovely lady. Maybe they hadn't been seeing each other for very long, but Khalil liked her. He really, really liked her. She was smart, funny, sexy and let's not forget rich. Just his cup of tea.

  He extended his hand and helped Dee get out of the car. She placed her handbag on her paralyzed side, extended her other hand out toward Khalil, and stepped out of the car. She had no idea what the McCoys would have to say about their twenty-one year old son bringing home a thirty-six year old woman, especially one whose name was Detria Graham. She smiled at the thought.

  "What are you smiling about, pretty lady?" asked Khalil.

  "Oh, just thinking about how your parents are going to react when they see me."

  "Hey, we aren't going down that road again. It is what it is. You're with me and either they deal with it or they don't. If they make you feel anyways uncomfortable, just give me that look and we're out. You got it?"