by Earl Sewell
“Dang. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” I said and hung up. I turned around and began walking slowly back home.
When I arrived back at the house, Jordan greeted me at the door. He grabbed me by the shirt just beneath my chin and jerked me inside the house and slammed my back against the wall. His eyes had nothing but fury in them.
“Why did you run away from your grandmother, boy?” he howled at me like a wolf.
“I didn’t want to be with them all day walking in and out of female clothing stores. What’s the big deal?” I snapped back at my father. After what I’d just gone through with Sabrina I wasn’t in the mood to take crap off of anyone.
“This is the second time you’ve pulled this disappearing stunt! I want some answers from you, boy, and I’d better get them or I’m going to knock your head through this wall.”
“I just gave you my answer. Now stop tripping and leave me alone. And let me go.” I tried to jerk away from him. When he wouldn’t release me I looked Jordan up and down and glared at him almost daring him to try it. Then suddenly he released me.
“Oh. It’s like that now,” he said as he stepped away from me and took off his suit jacket and removed his necktie. “You want a piece of me, don’t you?”
I didn’t say anything. I glared with contempt. I was wound up and angry and the last thing I needed was for him to be in my face shouting at me.
“Tell you what. We’re going to straighten this crap out right now. You want to hit me so I’m going to let you.”
He was right. I did want to hit him. I wanted him to know that I was tougher than I looked and that if he kept pushing me I was going to push back.
“Come on. Free shot. Take it. Hit me right here in the chest.” Jordan drummed his chest. “Take your best shot, Mike.”
I clinched my fist a few times as I thought about taking him up on his offer.
“Don’t think about it, boy. Do it. I’m telling you to. Hit me with your best shot! Come on!” Jordan growled at me but I didn’t make a move.
“Do it!” He pushed my shoulder so I felt that I had to defend myself. He was my father but I had to stand up to him. So I curled up my fist and hit him in the chest as hard as I could. I hit him so hard that he had to take a step back. When I saw that, it made me feel good. It made me feel powerful and stronger than my father. Jordan smiled at me.
“Good. Now hold your chest up,” he ordered.
“What?” I wasn’t sure if I’d heard him right.
“You heard what I said, boy. Hold your chest up. You’re not the only one who uses the gym around this house.”
“Jordan, don’t do this,” said Grandmother Katie who seemed to know something that I didn’t.
“No. Mom. I got this. It’s about time for this to happen. Hold your chest, boy.”
Jordan was about to hit me back. I wasn’t about to punk out now, so I held it up for him thinking that there was no way on earth he could hit me harder than I’d hit him.
“You ready?”
I responded by holding my chin up and standing tall. Jordan balled up his fist and kissed his knuckles.
“Mike, this is going to hurt me more than it’s going to hurt you,” he said and then hit me so hard that my back slammed against the wall and my knees buckled and I fell to the floor. I started gasping for air.
“Get up!” he commanded me to stand to my feet.
I continued to gasp for air because I couldn’t breathe. I swear I felt as if my chest had caved in.
“Jordan, that’s enough,” I heard Grandmother Katie say as I tried to get my breath.
Jordan kneeled down and made me look into his eyes. “Now you know who the big dog is in this house. Try this stunt again, Mike, and I will kill you cemetery dead. Do you understand?”
I tried to say yes but I couldn’t breathe.
“Now get up on your feet,” he said as he helped me up. “Now walk that off.” He said as he patted me on my back.
I kept gasping as I tried to get some air into my lungs. I couldn’t believe that he’d hit me so hard that he’d literally knocked the wind out of me. I tried to keep the tears of pain back.
“Jordan, you could have killed him,” Grandmother Katie came over and helped me to get up the steps. “He’s safe and that’s what matters the most,” she said as she rubbed her soft hands across my chest to soothe away my embarrassment.
eleven
KEYSHA
Tuesday, February 12th
February 12th had arrived and I awoke on my seventeenth birthday with a sour stomach and a massive headache. Today was the day that I had to go to court with Jordan to settle the visitation-rights issue once and for all with my mother, Justine. Simon told us that he and Justine had a baby boy which she’d named Flip, which I thought was a totally stupid name but my mother was never known for her good sense.
I sat upright in my bed and reached for my phone, which was situated on the nightstand next to my bed. I looked at the phone to see if I had any text messages from Wesley. I had one that said Call me later after court. I sat the phone down and thought about Wesley who was having a rough time at his new school in Indianapolis. Yesterday he told me that he’d gotten into a fight on the school bus with the same boy who asked him what gang he belonged to.
“A fight!” I’d said, totally upset that my man got involved in an altercation.
“Yeah, dude from the grocery store and two other guys jumped me because they said that I was sitting in their seat,” Wesley had explained. “I told them that I sat there every day and they need to get lost.”
“If you sit in the same seat every day, why were they tripping?”
“I don’t know. We exchanged some words and things got heated.”
“Well, if it was three against one, why didn’t you just move, Wesley?” I’d asked.
“Because I would’ve looked like a punk if I didn’t defend myself. And if I had not, the next time they would’ve approached me about peeing in the wrong urinal. So I held my ground.”
“Well, are you hurt?” I asked.
“I’m okay. A little busted up but I’ll survive.”
“Well, how busted up are you?”
“Just a split lip and a small cut over my left eye. No biggie. One of the dudes is walking around with a black eye and another one has a missing tooth because I kicked him in the mouth.”
“How did you do all of that damage to them?” I asked.
“I don’t know. They were swinging on me and I was swinging back. The bus driver pulled the bus over and broke us up. Since the other guys started it, they got suspended for seven days. I’m telling you, Keysha, it’s wild down here. Even in the classroom, the kids are disrespectful and a lot of the teachers are afraid of the students. They even broke into my science teacher’s car, and another teacher got attacked while walking across the parking lot to his car.”
“Wesley, I’m worried about you. You’ve got to come home. When will your house be finished?” I’d asked.
“Soon, I hope. By spring break it should be done.”
“How is your dad doing?” I asked to change the subject.
“He’s recovering really well. If all goes well, he’ll be back working by the time the house is done.”
“Well, that’s good because I really miss you. It’s no fun at school without you.”
“Is everyone still treating you well?”
“Oh, yeah. I don’t have any issues at all. I catch wind of crazy stories about Liz from time to time.”
“Well, I wanted to make sure that I talked to you before your court date in the morning. Just be strong and I’m sure everything will work out fine. Oh, and happy birthday.”
“Thank you, love,” I’d said warmly, imagining him next to me.
“Call me before you go to bed.”
“Okay. I will.”
I stood up and stretched out my body. I turned on the television to catch the weather. I learned that it was going to be a cold one. The high for the day wa
s to be ten degrees but, with the wind chill, it would feel like it was fifteen to twenty degrees below zero.
“Dang, it’s going to be cold,” I said as I made my way to bathroom. Once I got dressed, I headed downstairs. Jordan was already up and sitting in the family room talking to Barbara.
“Am I interrupting anything?” I asked as I entered the room.
“No, we’re just talking about being in court,” Jordan said.
“Barbara, are you coming?” I asked. I would’ve really liked for her to be there for moral support.
“No, sweetie, I’m not going to be able to make the hearing. But I will be there in spirit, okay?”
I nodded my head. “I understand,” I said.
“Asia Peking, the attorney I hired, will meet us at court,” said Jordan. “We should get going so that we’re on time.”
An hour later Jordan, myself and Asia were sitting in Family Courtroom Six with a ton of other people who were getting their cases heard. Asia felt confident that given my mother’s prior history it would be hard for the judge to allow visitation rights unless my mother had completely turned her life around, which I highly doubted she had.
We all sat and waited for our turn and I listened as the judge was hearing other cases. There was a visitation rights case going on that was rather nasty. One case involved a woman in her mid-twenties who had a newborn and had been denying the father the right to see his child. There was another case where a father took his baby from its mother who had been using drugs and the mother had the nerve to tell the court that she was a good mother and provided a good life for her son.
“These people are crazy,” I leaned over and whispered to Jordan.
“I know,” he said. Finally our case was called. My mother along with her social worker and court-appointed attorney all approached the judge’s bench. My mother must’ve been seated behind me because I didn’t even know she’d arrived at court. To my surprise she actually looked good. She’d cleaned herself up and appeared to be making an effort to do better.
“This is a case for visitation rights being brought forth by Ms. Justine Wiley,” the judge began the proceeding.
“Yes, Your Honor,” said my mother’s court-appointed attorney who looked like he’d graduated from law school yesterday. “Ms. Wiley would like visitation rights to her daughter, Keysha Kendall.”
“It says here in the record that Ms. Wiley abandoned the young girl and custody was turned over to her father.”
“Yes, Your Honor. At the time Ms. Wiley admits that she had a number of problems for which she has gone through therapy. You should have before you documents that state she’s completed a rehabilitation program.”
“And who are you, Miss?” the judge asked the social worker who was standing next to my mother.
“My name is Ms. Turner and I’m Ms. Wiley’s social worker,” she answered.
“Are you responsible for helping Ms. Wiley seek treatment for—” The judge paused as he took a moment to review her record. “—drug abuse, prostitution and check fraud?”
“Yes, Your Honor, I am.”
“And how has she done?” asked the judge.
“Ms. Wiley has done exceptionally well, Your Honor. She is drug-free, she’s working and maintaining an apartment on her own. She’s also caring for her infant son and there hasn’t been any incidents of abuse or neglect since she’s given birth. I feel that she has come a very long way and with continued support, she’ll only do better. At this time, I feel that it is only fair that she have her visitation rights restored.”
“Ms. Wiley,” the judge was speaking directly to my mother now. “Why do you feel you should get visitation rights after all you’ve done?”
“Your Honor,” my mother began nervously. “I love my daughter and I just want to have some type of relationship with her. I know that she’s in a good place right now and I don’t want to mess that up for her. I just want to be in her life in some meaningful way. She has a brother now and I want her to get to know him as well.”
“Your Honor, we are requesting that Ms. Wiley have visitation rights at least two times a month. If Ms. Wiley continues to improve, we’d like to move to file for joint custody of the minor until she reaches the age of eighteen,” said Justine’s court-appointed lawyer. I didn’t like him very much. He didn’t know me, he hadn’t talked to me and yet he was trying to change my entire life. The public defenders office probably gave the guy this case just so he could get his feet wet. I could tell that he didn’t really care about the lives he was impacting.
“Please state your name for the court,” the judge nodded his head toward Asia.
“My name is Asia Peking and I am the attorney representing Keysha Kendall. Your Honor, I would move to deny visitation rights to Ms. Wiley because of the circumstances in which she left her daughter. She left her in a filthy apartment with no food. Keysha ended up in a group home for teens at risk until her father was located. Mr. Jordan Kendall didn’t even know of Keysha’s existence until he was notified by the State Department of Family Services. Since that time he has stepped up by taking Keysha into his home. Keysha now has a stable, loving family and lives in a safe environment. She’s doing well in school and has received favorable reports from her teachers who all state that she’s improved her grades dramatically. Although Ms. Wiley has made great personal progress in her own life, we don’t believe she’ll ever be able to match the standard of living that Keysha now enjoys. Your Honor, it would be a mistake to allow visitation rights at this time and disrupt Keysha’s way of life. I move to dismiss this case.”
“I’m so nervous,” I whispered to Jordan, who didn’t say a word. I could tell that he was nervous, too but didn’t want to show it.
“It’ll be okay,” he finally said as I looped my arm through his.
The judge wrote down a few notes and then stood up. “I’ll be back with my decision in a moment.” He then stepped away into his chambers. I sat there and waited. Wondering if and when my mother would turn around and look at me but she never did. Her eyes remained straight forward. A short while later, the judge returned.
“Okay, I’m going to cut to the chase here. The daughter of Jordan and Justine is now seventeen years of age. The young lady is at an age where she should certainly know right from wrong and good from bad. I understand that she’s come from some unfavorable circumstances and has been afforded a second chance at a better life.
“However, Ms. Wiley has seemed to turn her life around and is moving forward and making strides toward becoming a functioning member of society. Regardless of the troubles Ms. Wiley has had in the past, at the end of it she is still Keysha’s biological mother and up until the age of sixteen was able to care for her.
“I am going to temporarily grant visitation rights for twice a month on Saturdays for three months. At the end of three months, I would like for each of you to report back to this court with an update. If Ms. Wiley gets into any trouble, has a relapse or places the child in harm or danger before the end of three months, she will permanently lose visitation until Keysha comes of age. This decision takes effect immediately with the first visit being this coming Saturday at the home of Ms. Wiley.” The judge slammed down his gavel and I felt as if I’d just stepped on a land mine and was blown into a million little pieces.
As soon as I got home I rushed upstairs and went into the bathroom. I stood in front of the mirror and looked at my reflection for a long moment.
“Why is this happening?” I asked, knowing full well that I wouldn’t get an answer. I was feeling a little warm so I turned on the faucet and grabbed a face towel from the cupboard behind me.
“Okay, Keysha,” I said as I wet the towel and began the process of cooling my skin. “How are you going to deal with this?” I placed my towel on the towel bar then sat down on the edge of the bathtub, closed my eyes and began to think. The only thing my mind could focus on was speaking to Wesley. He was truly an amazing boyfriend because he really listened to me
. I fought myself for a long moment because I knew that he was dealing with a lot already and I truly didn’t want to add to his burdens. After going around in circles about whether or not to call him, I finally made the decision to do so. I removed my phone from its holster and called Wesley. When he picked up the phone he seemed happy to hear my voice. After we exchanged a few pleasantries I explained to him everything that happened in court.
“You’re kidding me!” Wesley said.
“I wish I were,” I responded as I closed my bedroom door and positioned myself on my bed.
“Well, did you even get a chance to tell your side of the story?” he asked.
“Yeah, but they didn’t give me much time. It all happened so fast. The judge heard both sides of the story and then went to his chambers. When he returned, he’d made a decision that has changed my life. I mean, how stupid could the guy be?” I asked, searching for answers.
“He has to be completely stupid if you ask me,” Wesley said. “Well, what about an appeal? Can you guys appeal the decision?” Wesley asked.
“My dad and Asia were discussing what other options were available but I tuned out the conversation when they were standing in the hallway outside of the courtroom. I just feel so numb, Wesley. I mean, this entire situation just feels so wrong.”
“Wow,” he said, as the reality of the decision cast a dark cloud over our conversation. “Well, hopefully they can get this decision reversed. Or what if your dad just doesn’t take you over there? What could they do?” he asked.
“My dad thought of that, but Asia advised him against not complying with the court ruling. That would lead to more trouble,” I explained
“This really sucks,” Wesley said.
“I know,” I said, then remained quiet for a long moment.
“So in two days you have to go back to your old neighborhood and hang out with your mother all day. I mean, what teenager wants to do that?”
“A weird one,” I answered. “I know what’s going to happen. We’re going to end up fighting and I’m going to want to go home and won’t be able to. That’s like being in prison without being behind bars.”