Loving You Through Our Differences

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Loving You Through Our Differences Page 2

by Tucora Monique


  “Yes, Daddy. Don’t tell Mommy we went to Uncle Ray’s house. Or that you were gambling, or that you had me reading cards for you. And don’t mention—"

  “OK, OK, Princess, you got it. Here, take this.” He directs with a Joker-like grin spreading across his face. I know we’d made a lot of money, because as we were leaving, Uncle Ray yelled for Daddy not to bring his “yellow ass” back around there. Reaching over the driver’s seat, Daddy hands me a crisp, hundred-dollar bill. My already large, brown eyes nearly pop out of my head. The first thing that comes to mind is the Crayola Clay set I’d been saving up for.

  “Oh my God, Daddy! I get to keep the whole thing, or you want some change back or something? You remember what you did the last time you gave me fifty.” He doesn’t say anything, just laughs.

  Making our way into the house, Marvin Gaye greets us before the lady of the house had the chance. Daddy made his way to the kitchen in search of his lady. I on the other hand, hurry to my room to stash the bill I’d made for the day.

  Opening the door to the bedroom my sister Carmen and I share, I run right into my mom and her laundry basket.

  “Look who finally decides to grace us with their presence. Where is your father, Billie Grace?”

  “Downstairs. I think he’s looking for you.”

  “Looking for me? I bet he is. You two were supposed to be here two hours ago, but he’s looking for me? What I do know is your behinds better not had been at Ray’s with them cards. The gift God has blessed you with isn’t for the foolishness that goes on at 96-04.” With her hand on her hip and her naturally bushy eyebrows mushed together, I know she’s serious.

  The cherry-red sundress she’s wearing blends beautifully with her rich, Hershey-colored skin. A pure-white lily made its home on the right side of her full, feathered hair. She looks like she was on a Hawaiian vacation rather than in her home cleaning. Dorothy Brice is definitely a sight for sore eyes; well, that’s what my granddad, Pappy says. And being named after the phenomenal Dorothy Dandridge it was only right.

  My older sister and I share a room, which is more of a problem for Carmen than me. I guess if I was sixteen sharing a room with my baby sister, I’d feel some type of way too.

  “Why are you up here making all this noise, Chink?”

  High cheekbones became present, making my mom’s eyes almost disappear while being cradled in my daddy’s arms. This happens just about every time she smiles, which is why he calls her Chink.

  Images such as these become stapled into my memory, and I welcome them.

  “Don’t even try it, Efron. Billie’s sessions are only an hour long, and you two little, sneaky heathens have been gone since almost three o’clock; it’s going on seven. I know you didn’t have my baby out in the streets conning people out of their money again.”

  It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him to take me along to my uncle’s house for casino night to help read cards. Doing it was illegal, but I couldn’t control the images my mind stores when seen, so the only thing my daddy is really guilty of is having me gambling underage.

  Eidetic memory is an ability to vividly recall images from memory after only a few instances of exposure. Basically, it’s photographic memory on steroids. I’m the only one in my family who has it. My mom says it’s my special gift from God. Anything traumatic and painful, just about anything my eyes see, I can recall vividly within a few minutes or less.

  I watch as my mom’s mouth opens so wide a few flies can have had a field day. “Chocolate Cosmos! Baby, these are gorgeous.”

  Inhaling the air, I notice the stench of garlic was barely noticeable, and my room was engulfed with sweet vanilla.

  I jump down off of my bed and follow behind my queen as she led us downstairs to the kitchen. Just as I pass my dad, he and I make eye contact. Lifting his hand and bringing his palm to mine, we prepare for a discreet high five, but before our hands could collide, my mother stops walking and looks over her shoulder at us.

  “The two of you be late again, and next time it won’t be so easy. Now, let’s go eat. Carmen should be in soon.” She threatens with a grin on her face that didn’t match the tone of her voice.

  “Next stop, Washington Station. Please be sure to retrieve all your items before you exit the train, and thank for riding the Metro.”

  The automatic intercom blared loudly, prompting my eyes to quickly open and assess my surroundings. Satisfied that there was still ten minutes until my stop, I resumed my position.

  The night of…

  Turning my head to the right just a bit, I can see my sister’s yellow comforter move. Her body rises then falls. I know she’s sleeping good. If I bother her about me needing to go pee, she’ll trip. By the time she’s done complaining, I would either have peed on myself or owed her my allowance for the next two years.

  Lying on my back with my hands resting in the center of my chest, I fiddled with intertwined fingers. I softly rub my thumb over the skin right between my index finger and my thumb. The small light plugged into an outlet closest to my bed flickers, causing chaos on the walls.

  The light wasn’t doing its job. Instead, it was illuminating normal things causing shadows to dance on the wall.

  Taking a deep breath, I swing my legs off the edge of my bed and onto the hardwood floor. I slip my feet into black and green Powerpuff Girls house slippers and slowly walk to the door.

  Gripping the knob, I pull the door towards me, staring the dark space ahead. A small tapping sound came from the bottom of my slippers and echoes throughout the hallway. Reaching the bathroom’s door, I flick on the light in a hurry. Hearing whispers or something that sounds like crying, I stop my movement. Turning toward the hums, I notice they are coming from my parents’ bedroom as brightness seeps from underneath their door. I’ll admit it may appear brighter in contrast to the dull hallway but still.

  Being eleven years old, I’m not naive and know my mom and dad have their “alone” time, but this sounded different.

  With my body planted directly in front of their door, I grip and push the door open. I cringe as my heart feels like it has left its rightful place and plummets to my feet.

  My father’s body hovers over what I assume is my mom. His weight looks to be smothering her, and I watch her feet make sharp kicks upward under his frame then abruptly stop.

  I make no attempt at stopping what’s happening because I simply can’t believe it. My mind doesn’t accept what I’m witnessing because then that would mean pain. The type of pain that scars a person for life and with my eidetic memory, I pray to God that this one will pass me by.

  I suck in as much air as my lungs can hold before exhaling then inhaling too quickly for my body to catch on. My mom's eyes are empty, and her brows scrunched together.

  She looked lifeless. I know she is lifeless.

  I feel a warm wetness slide down my legs. I freaking peed on myself.

  “Daddy?” I whisper as if I’m unsure if this monster was my hero from just a few hours before.

  “Daddy!”

  He wears no emotion on his face and is void of any remorse or anger just stoic. His hands are wrapped around her neck with hers cradling his wrists, but I see she’s no longer fighting back. Facing him, I realize his eyes are in slits, and then it hits me.

  He’s asleep.

  Completely different from the time he kept walking up and down the stairs, repeatedly turning the television off and on. And not the same as when he walked to the kitchen and put pillows inside the oven while asleep. We all would laugh at the end of those episodes, this wasn’t funny.

  “Daddy, please wake up!” Spit was flying from my mouth as I attempt to pull him off my mommy. “You’re hurting Mommy. Wake up! You’re killing her!” My throat burns when I say the words. I didn’t want to say it out loud because then this would be real.

  He doesn’t budge as I pull his shirt toward me, so I start throwing punches. I know my fists feel like nothing more than cushions to the giant that
taught me how to fight, but I had to try.

  “I said let her go!”

  I jump on his back, and he flings me slightly forward. My cheek is practically touching his as my body rests on his right shoulder. We look like Siamese twins who share the same body but had our own head. We also share the same visual, and I feel my stomach rumble at what I see. Her headscarf is partially on while the rest of the silk material lingers on the pillowcase. She wears a white nightgown that practically glowed in comparison to her skin, and her eyes are open. Not being able to stand looking at her this way, I hop from his back and bolt back down the hallway.

  “Carmen! Carmen! Wake up, please!” She stirs grudgingly in her comfort as I

  strip her covers from the bed.

  “Girl, what the hell is wrong with—” She stumbles over her own feet.

  I don’t speak back. I just drag her harder and faster to our parents’ bedroom.

  “And you’re taking me to Mommy and Daddy’s room?”

  I push the door open. I don’t need to say a word.

  “Next stop, Willowbrook station.” The overhead announcement startled me, but the nightmare was getting the best of me, so I was grateful for the intrusion. Annoyed by the wetness on my cheeks, I cursed under my breath and gathered my things. With no time to fester, I adjusted my posture and exited the train.

  Billie

  I got to work on time by the skin of my teeth and was happy as the homeless at a cookout. Even though I’d worked at The Park Cemetery for close to four years, I hadn’t wanted to carry on with that type of reputation.

  After being released from prison for credit card fraud, my grandfather called one of his lady friends up for a favor. He made it clear my first week after leaving the halfway house that I couldn’t live under his roof without a job or going to school.

  I chose to work.

  At the time, having my own money was more important than furthering my education. I did obtain my GED and associate’s degree in business management while away, though.

  “Thank you!” I hollered, running through the employee entrance being held open by the parking attendant. I was thankful he didn’t gesture for me to stop and show my credentials. I had no time. There was a new shipment being delivered from France’s J’Adore Les Fleurs. All flower deliveries to The Park were in receipt of me, so I needed to be here. I would hate for management to notice my absence and start sending letters regarding my ability to be at work on time. I needed my job to start my business.

  I had been working on Crunch, my cereal bar, for a while, and even if it took all my life to accomplish, I was going to ensure it opened. Years ago, I left seed money with my cousin Jupiter, and she invested it into stocks on my behalf. I still needed to find a few investors, but things were coming together nicely.

  Walking the lawn, I noticed one of the regular visitors having lunch with his wife, which made me smile.

  Porter, who was eighty-seven, buried his wife a year ago, and according to him, losing her was the hardest thing he’s had to live through. He’d been through both slavery and serving in the military, and that still didn’t compare to living in this world without the love of his life.

  Sixty-seven years of marriage would do that to you, I’m sure. Imagine the codependency between them. Beautiful and scary all at the same time in my opinion, and I didn’t want any part of it. I had been that way for years, but that didn’t hinder me from appreciating other peoples’ soul ties and basking in their good-natured bliss. My cousin, Jupiter’s, was one of my favorites to witness. She was engaged to a really good man named Latif Bravo, and just watching them together gives me butterflies.

  “Hi, Porter.”

  He smiled. “How are you doing today beauty?”

  “Not as good as you. Did you bring enough lunch for me?” I teased, picking up small pieces of trash that littered the grass.

  “Yes, girl. You know I always bring extra sammiches, and Janet sure wouldn’t mind.”

  “Aww. Thank you, Mr. Porter. But how about a rain check? I have to get this place cleaned up. I’m off tomorrow, and I don’t want them calling me while I’m relaxing at home. But thank you.”

  I blew him a kiss and continued into the space that held all our exotic, flawless, and special ordered flowers.

  Opening the fridge space, a handful of smells hit me all at once. From traditional, sweet smells of jasmine flowers to the volatile compound produced from the Hawaiian Frangipani. Using the small scissors hanging on the wall, I nipped the frangipani at the root. The flowers that you see hula dancers wear when performing in Hawaii didn’t look as vibrant under the unnatural light.

  Cleaning and adding the beauty to my hair, I smiled as a feeling of peace washed over me. From the time my mom passed away, I made sure to keep that part of her alive. Her love for flowers and nature lived through me. Even when I was locked up, I would make papier-mâché flowers from newspaper and whatever other materials I could find. Sometimes, I would even add water to the dirt out on the field and make imitation clay to sculpt my own cup or action figures.

  I spent roughly thirty minutes in the cool space before I heard a knock on the door. My co-worker Dar was standing at the first security window waving a piece of paper in my direction. Going out to meet her, I read the transmittal, and without effort, my eyes went up into my head.

  “How are you doing today, Billie Grace? I’m feelin’ the way you look in your uniform.”

  I scoffed, annoyed after only being in his presence for seconds.

  “I wear the same uniform every day Jermaine.”

  “I think you need a bigger size in those shorts to handle all that back there though. How about you let me treat you to something new?”

  Taking a deep breath, I smiled politely, not bothering to issue a reply. Between this freak and the asshole on the train, my day was getting off to a hell of a start.

  This is going to be a long ass day.

  Mondays, uugh.

  The Next Monday…

  Leiland

  “And we completely understand your frustration, Mr…”

  “Greyson, it’s Mr. Greyson, and no, you don’t understand my frustration. I’ve been on this job for the last five years, busting my ass in rain or snow for this city, and this is the thanks I get!”

  I was livid, pacing like a predator in front of my work locker, and the customer service rep was on the receiving end of my aggravation.

  “We don’t make the rules, sir. We just implement them. Your employer has decided they will no longer cover the majority of the payment regarding your health insurance. Any further questions or concerns you have regarding your health insurance should be forwarded to the benefits coordinator at your workplace.”

  “Indeed. Let’s be honest, lady. You don’t give two shits about what I’m calling about. Didn’t even make it a point to remember my name.” My voice filled the line before I ended the call.

  Closing my eyes, my lungs filled with air followed by a ragged release. It was a quarter to seven, and if I didn’t put a move on, that would be enough merit for my supervisor to track me. Five years as a parking enforcement officer for the city of Long Beach and that was still a part of the job that felt invasive. Shit like this was what made me contemplate my decision to let go of my side activity and walk away for The Shepherds for good. It’s been two years since I’d left that life behind, but during times like these, God was the only one that kept me out the bar.

  “Hey, you. Not speaking this morning?” Bloom, our rental clerk, charmed leaning over the metal counter surrounding a cage-like office. Accepting the clipboard that included a few sign-in sheets I’d need to add my information to, I ignored the welcoming smile Bloom was offering. She knew normally I’d be cracking jokes or offering compliments, but today was different, so I was different.

  Allowing her to place the keys in the middle of my hand, I thanked her before walking to the city-loaned Ford Fusion.

  Hate this little ass car, I thought. Having to
always push the seat back, damn near touching the backseat was irritating.

  “Aye, yo!”

  Looking over my shoulder, I saw my boy Latif running in my direction.

  “Why the hell you moving so fast? You in a rush like somebody chasing you, bruh. The sun ain’t even up, and you going a mile a minute.” He joked as if he didn’t know what time it was.

  “We still on for tonight, right? I think we should hit up that new pool hall on Orange.”

  “How’d you hear about it? Remember what happened the last time we went somewhere you’d been recommended,” I mentioned cautiously.

  “Man, don’t trip. Wayne told me their happy hour isn’t over until twelve. That’s all us right there, baby.” He rejoiced, doing a quick shoulder dance.

  “You never take down more than two drinks when we go out, so why you front like you’re going all out tonight? You’re gotta try that on someone who doesn’t know you.” I shot back, adjusting the mirrors on the car and snapping my seatbelt.

  “Man, whatever! I’m under a lot of pressure right now with Jupiter wanting to have the wedding before the year is out, plus she’s already talking about babies. Dude, I need a drink fast, and tonight is perfect because she’s having company. A house full of grown ass women acting like teenage girls. I don’t want no part of the squealing and men bashing. So again, are we good for tonight or what?”

  It was clear he didn’t want to host Jupiter’s ladies’ night, but knowing how he felt about his woman, he would go with her flow. That’s something I admire about him; the way he treated his lady. I’d been around the couple for years, and I had never seen him treat her as anything less than a queen.

  I’d dated a few women who made me believe they were worth that sacrifice, but it’s never taken more than a few dates to conclude they weren’t the one. When I was younger, it would piss me off. I felt my time was wasted for nothing. Being older and experiencing what patience could bring, I appreciated the lessons learned. The only woman I’d ever loved required grooming, and even with how things ended with us, I valued what I got out of it.

 

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