“Lawyer Henry, thank you for all your help over the years and for keeping an eye on my children while they were here, I appreciate you a lot.”
“You’re more than welcome. I hope you will come back and visit after all this nonsense is over.”
We shake hands and I leave to meet Samantha for lunch.
Matt and I talked a lot during the years my sons came back on summer vacation. I actually sent them to him and it was their choice if they wanted to sleep at their father’s house. Samantha and I talked too, but since I had never met her in person, she is not a native of St. Matthew’s, our relationship is different. After Roland graduated high school, all three of them chose not to come back but to work during the summers instead.
Samantha and I meet inside The Blue Agouti Restaurant. She’s slightly taller than me; her skin is medium brown and her shoulder length hair frames her round face. I can tell she will struggle with her weight when she gets older.
“Thank you so much, Samantha,” I say after we hug.
“It was nothing, except for that millisecond when he hesitated,” she says. “He’s horrible first thing in the morning.”
“So how’s St. Matthews’ treating you?”
“I like it here. At first they were suspicious of me and being married to Matt really pissed some people off.”
“It’s always like that when you’re the new girl, but Matt’s the best and he’s worth it.”
She smiles broadly. “I have never met anyone like him. He’s like this giant with the gentlest touch. I love him so much.”
“I’m glad.”
We order lunch. Jerk pork with white rice, fried plantain and a salad for me and curry goat with rice and peas and stew dumplings for her. We talk a little about her in-laws, and although she’s in her late twenties, she feels the pressure to have babies. Apparently, they speak well of me as if I’m truly in the States to make sure the boys get the best education possible, while Keith whores down the place. Things are starting to get out of control because his assistant is not happy. Having me back will solve a lot of his parents’ problems.
“Matt told me how much he used to love you,” Samantha says grinning.
“You mean used to like me.”
“No, Matt loved you. It broke his heart when you married Keith.”
I shake my head. “Did Matt really tell you that he loved me?” I ask puzzled.
“Yep. He said you embarrassed him in front of his friends on the school bus and he never got a chance to tell you how he felt. He was waiting until after A-level exams to ask you to marry him, but you did better than he did and he felt he didn’t deserve you.”
I laugh. “Samantha, of all the boys I knew, Matt was the guy I liked. He respected me and he was smart.”
I tell her the school bus story and she laughs for a long time.
“Matt does that. He turns a story around to make himself look good when he was the idiot.”
“When his mother came and asked my grandmother to let me marry Keith, I was so disappointed. I wished it was Matt, but I didn’t think he cared for me that way. I agreed to please my dying grandmother.”
“I’m sorry you got stuck with Keith, but I’m glad you left Matt for me.”
“I’m glad you got Matt too, and all wasn’t lost. I got Roland and Zander out of it.”
“We miss them, but I guess they’re grown now.”
“I’m sure at some point they’ll be back.”
After lunch, I walk her back to the courthouse and catch a taxi to see the tenant in my grandmother’s house. She’s unhappy that she goes from living rent free to at least taking care of the taxes. She’s even more upset that she can’t buy the property. I make it clear that I’ll understand if she leaves, but I commend her for the way she kept up the place.
I walk around the village for a while and just keep walking until someone offers me a ride. He has to make a delivery stop, so I get out of the car and sit outside the shop waiting.
After sitting there daydreaming for about ten minutes, I turn around and my driver is patiently waiting on me. I hurry back to the car. He hands me a soda, which I gratefully accept. I listen as he explains why Keith deserves to win the election.
Back at the inn, my wandering mind returns to Keith.
Did he ever love me?
I thought so back then.
After secondary school, I worked at the tax office. One day he showed up and invited me to lunch. He was twenty-one, tall, nice looking and well-mannered. I didn’t mind being with him. Two months later, we married and moved into a rented house not far from my grandmother’s. Our wedding night was painful and I cried. Zoi said the first time is always like that. The next night he gave me some homemade wine and it was better. I got pregnant soon after and lost interest in sex. Zoi had her baby and my grandmother died soon afterward.
Before I knew it, Zoi was gone and I had three children to raise. Keith and I rarely argued. I did what he wanted because it was easier, and the boys and work took most of my energy. Sex became another one of the things I had to take care of. I don’t remember it being particularly good or bad. I remember Keith would pick a fight with me, leave and not return until late, but I never felt slighted or as if he was cheating.
When Aunt Sarah, my grandmother’s sister, started the paperwork for us to migrate to the States, Keith got excited about it. We talked about what we would do when we got to America. When I found him with Kingsley, his assistant, I was so shocked I was rooted where I stood. I knew about homosexuality, but nothing prepared me to see the man I loved being submissive sexually to another man. It paralyzed me.
I hurry down the stairs, through the living area, out the front door and take off like dogs are chasing me. I run several miles and through two villages before I stop to rest my legs. I used to vomit every time I remember, but now I run and simply try to forget. But the bad things seem to find that spot in my brain where long term memory becomes fresh as if it happened yesterday.
I drop on the side of the dirt road, put my head between my knees and weep. I couldn’t take my eyes off them. The look on Keith’s face, the moans that echoed his pleasure shocked me.
“Baby, baby,” said Kingsley. He threw back his head and closed his eyes as he gave and received pleasure from my husband.
When he heard my footsteps, Keith turned and saw me and his look of surprise quickly turned into a look of rage. My ears seemed to become full of pressure because Keith’s lips moved, but I didn’t hear what he said.
The lovers separated then Keith grabbed me and threw me on the bed. I had no fight in me. I shook from the shock and my brain seemed frozen, unable to move from fright to flight.
He tossed me face down on the bed and ordered Kingsley to hold me down. He took me the way Kingsley took him. I can still feel the pain of my hip bones as his hands gripped me and he shoved his way into me. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and screamed. Someone struck me, to shut me up I assume, and I passed out. When I regained consciousness, Kingsley was doing it to Keith as he in turn raped me.
I reached over and grabbed something, but Keith saw it and he gripped my hair then slapped me so hard across my face I passed out again. When I became conscious, Keith was trying to talk Kingsley into raping me too. He refused. He said he could never have sex with a woman; and besides, school will be out soon. I just lay face down on the bed bawling. My body felt broken. I wished the earth would just open and swallow me.
After they left, I managed to pull myself together. Until then, it had never occurred to me that Keith could hurt me. As I showered, I scrubbed my body and my aching scalp under the cold water trying to cleanse my mind of what he did and who he was. I felt broken. I knelt in the shower and screamed as the water pelted down on me.
At some point, I remembered my children and I dragged my body out of the shower and got dressed.
I vowed to get away from him, but how?
I went back to the car. I hid the immigration papers under the backseat and drove home. I forced
myself to be normal for the boys wondering how to escape my life with Keith.
That night, Keith came home drunk and I was grateful. The morning after, he pretended as if nothing had happened. I drove the children to school and went to work. I told my supervisor I felt sick the day before and apologized for not returning after lunch. She reproached me but said I still looked ill and urged me to go home for the rest of the day. Instead, I drove to the beach, rolled up the windows and wailed. The one time I had to fight for myself I froze and let them humiliate me. I could fight for everybody else but not for me.
It was then I decided to run. I drove to the bank, then back to the house, then to the school and finally to the airport. How do I tell anyone what I let them do to me? The one time I needed to defend myself, I didn’t.
Darkness crept up on me unawares and by the time I look around the island is clothed in black. I know my way around and all I need is my tree, to feel her bark against my face letting me know that I’m alive. I put my head between my ankles then stretch my arms to the sky and take off pounding the earth.
At dinner, I take the same seat and read the same book. He approaches slowly; I feel him inch closer. I glance sideways at his shiny shoes then up at his face. Same old scum bag.
“Hi, Nella.”
I look up at his bleached out, long, grimy face. He has the gall to be embarrassed. I turn back to my book and he sits across from me.
“What do you want, Clyde?” I ask, not masking my hostility.
“My grandmother died and I wondered if you had heard.”
I snicker under my breath, change my mind and look him in the face. “I heard and I’m sorry for your loss.”
“When I heard you were here I … I had to dig deep to come talk to you. I know you hate me, but I hope you’ll hear me out.”
“I’m listening,” I say, closing the book, sitting back and folding my arms.
“How’s Zoi?” he asks without looking at me.
“Zoi is beautiful and practicing law in New York City, but I’m sure you knew that already. Look Clyde, we both know you already know all you care to about Zoi because you still share friends in common; so, quit stalling before I kick you out of my booth.”
“Okay,” he says, glaring at me. “I wanted to know if it’s possible to see my son?”
“Your who? Your what?” I ask with a look on my face that I’m sure will be hard for him to describe in words.
“Nella, he’s my son.”
“Are you talking about the child Zoi had at fourteen? The one she told you about before you hightailed it outta here?”
“I was sixteen years old, Nella. My mother was fighting to support me.”
“And you’re still sixteen, right?”
“I made a big mistake and I need to see my son.”
“Why?”
“I realize that I should’ve acknowledged him a long time ago and I’m hoping that we can work it out.”
“You’re married, but let me not be a hypocrite, I hear she can’t have babies, is that true?”
“Yes, we’re trying, but it doesn’t seem as if it will happen. I know how things look and you have every right to be angry; but … I would still like to see my son.”
“Your son’s name is Etienne. And why are you coming to me?”
“I know you raised him before you went to the States, so I figure you still have influence over him.”
I laugh. “In case you somehow got lost in math class, Etienne is twenty-three years old and in law school. You want his number? I’ll be more than happy to give it to you but with a teeny tiny warning. We know you’re sick.”
“How did you hear that?”
“Are you daft? How many of your friends have asked you time and again to call Zoi? What were you afraid of, that you would have to pay child support?”
“To be honest, yes. I was trying to build a life for myself and I couldn’t afford to support Zoi or her son.”
I glare at him. I didn’t expect him to tell the truth. I take a piece of paper out of my purse, write Etienne’s number on it and hand it to him.
“This should be between you and Zoi, but she’s pregnant and she doesn’t need the stress. Etienne will ask for my advice and that’s if he even speaks to you. He knows you exist and you refused to acknowledge him. If he asks me about helping you, I will tell him to walk away from you the way you walked away from him.”
I turn back to my book, but sensing the silence in the room, I look to my right and all eyes are on us. I glare at Clyde and see the jaundice in his eyes.
“Please leave, so I can eat in peace.”
The following morning, I run again but just to my grandmother’s grave. I sit in silence and stare out at the horizon. I made so many changes because of the way I left here, the way I remember things and the way I internalize them. The first thing I did when I arrived in New York was cut my hair, and I have not let it grow pass a certain length since. The closer it is to my scalp the better I feel about it. Since the grays started to come in, I’ve colored it, but in spite of my stylist’s request for a change and to let it grow a little, I’m sticking to the way it is.
I say bye to Granny Nanny and falsely promise to come back. I can’t stand in front of her headstone and tell her I’ll never see her again. I decide to leave today and be done with my past. On my way to the airport, I say goodbye to Samantha and Lawyer Henry. At the airport, the flight is half full, so I get on. At the last minute, I spy Denzel, one of Keith’s close friends. I pretend I don’t see him. He has a different idea.
“Hey, what you doing here, Nella? Keith didn’t say you were coming.”
“Actually, I’m not coming, I’m leaving. How’ve you been, Denzel?”
“I’m good, getting ready to kick arse in the election.”
“Is that the only thing going on?” I ask him, simply to make conversation.
“Girl, it’s a big deal. I hope you’ll be back for the big day.”
I nod as if in agreement and fold my lips, so I wouldn’t sin my soul.
In Antigua, I pay a fortune to change my flight. I have a three-hour wait, so I text the boys that I love them and fight the urge to call or text Zoi. If I do she will worry and I prefer to surprise her with my early return. I sit with the phone in my hand trying to decide if I should call Mark. I get his voicemail.
“Hey, it’s me … Nella. Ah … just wanted to hear your voice. I’m sorry I missed you. Bye.”
I turn off the phone and drop it in my bag.
I felt so out of place. I wanted to sound as intimate as I feel, but I just couldn’t. He’s still my boss and I’m not dating him; but I like him and it’s too early for both of us.
Instead of going through security, I sit on a bench outside, put one leg over the other, grab my book and read. I sense him before I see him. Should I run or should I face him and let whatever will be just be.
I will fight for myself today.
It ends here.
I take a deep breath and keep reading. He stands over me to my right. To my left, I see Matt. I close the book and drop it in my bag.
“Matt!” I yell loudly and quickly run to him and into his arms.
He hugs me tightly with my face in his chest then kisses my cheek. I get on tippy toes and kiss his cheek.
“He had a few calls telling him you were there, so I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers into my ear.
I move out of his arms and turn to face Keith. He has aged a little but still good looking, tall, muscular and tanned.
“What are you doing here?” he demands, with one hand on his hip and the other pointing at me, his nostrils flaring, his temper boiling over. I didn’t expect that.
I take my bag off my shoulder and hand it to Matt.
“Nella, what are you doing?” Matt asks me.
I see something in his eyes and I don’t want him to have to take my side over his brother, so I take back my bag and walk over to a man in uniform.
“Excuse me. Can I trust y
ou to hold this for me?” I ask in the best American accent I can muster up.
He looks at me from my short hair cut, to my white, three-quarter sleeved blouse, to my low-waist, boot-cut jeans, and then to my two-inch, white, strappy shoes and then around at everyone paying attention.
“Ah … sure,” he says.
I turn back to Keith. “It’s none of your damn business what I’m doing here,” I say, imitating his stance four feet away from him.
“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” he asks pointing again.
“I’m talking to you. You are not my husband. You can fool them,” I say, pointing to the onlookers, including, Kingsley, his assistant “but you and I know differently.”
“I’m not your husband? Because you stole my money and my children and ran off to America with them, you think it’s over?”
“Because you raped me in front of your friend you think it’s still on?”
“What the fuck you talking ‘bout … ‘bout … ‘bout rape? Ain’t nobody raped you!” He says and looks at Matt.
I turn to Matt. I run into him and grab him tight.
“Matt, Matt, look at me. Look at me!” I yell to get his attention away from Keith. He looks. “This is my fight. He’s your brother. Let me take care of it, please.”
“Nella, why didn’t you tell me?” he asks with tears in his eyes.
“He’s you brother and when I’m gone he will still be your brother. You helped me to start a new life; I have to end this one for myself, okay?”
“Are you sure?” he asks, and for the first time, I see the love he has for me in his eyes.
“I’m sure; trust me.”
He nods and I turn around to his brother.
“You hurt and humiliated me and I’m still here. I worked my ass off for fifteen years to take care of your sons without any help from you and I’m still here. Your sons are grown and in college and I’m still here. You were supposed to love and take care of me; instead you raped and humiliated me, but Keith take a good look at me, I’m still here.”
I see him moving toward me and I take off running and knee him in the groin before he knows what hits him. He goes down screaming and before I lose momentum, I run toward Kingsley and let him have it too. He joins Keith in the painful song only men can sing well. I walk to the guy with my bag. He covers himself and holds my bag out to me at arm’s length. I take it, walk to Matt, kiss him and head for the secure area without a backward glance.
TAKE ME as I am Page 7