Crave

by Laurie Jean Cannady

  “Then let me go,” I pleaded.

  “I can’t do that either,” he replied.

  No tears fell, no embracing, no apologies, just acceptance. He, at eighteen, had full control of something, and he could not let go. It didn’t matter that something was me. It didn’t matter I was suffocating under his belonging. His love was such that it would hold on until the end, whenever that would be.

  During my junior year, I devised a plan to escape Sanford and Portsmouth; I would join the military. If anyone could protect me, it would be the soldiers of the U.S. Army. Even though our country was in the middle of the first Gulf War, I preferred that war to the one I fought at home. I kept my plan a secret from Sanford and my classmates. Momma, my brothers, and sister were the only ones to know. I secretly met with Sergeant Williams, my recruiter. It was a covert operation I relished. Everything had gone as planned until the day I was practicing drills with Sergeant Williams, when Sanford called my house. Momma did not know I was hiding my plans to enlist from Sanford. When he asked where I was, she told him.

  Sanford called the recruiter’s office, asking to speak with me. Because of privacy laws, they didn’t give him any information. That didn’t matter to Sanford. He told the recruiter I’d been sick and had had pneumonia when I was younger. He assured my recruiter I would die if I went into the Army. He threatened to sue the recruiter because he had informed him of my previous illness.

  I feared the Army wouldn’t accept me because of Sanford’s claims. Sergeant Williams asked about the situation with Sanford and I had no choice but to tell him about the abuse I had been suffering. I shared with him what I couldn’t even share with Momma. He wanted me to press charges, but I refused. Sanford had always told me he would kill my family and me if I went to the cops. Sergeant Williams vowed to help me get into the Army, no matter what it took. I leaned against his desk and cried. I had an ally in my battle against Sanford.

  Because of the urgency of my situation, the Sergeant scheduled a MEPS visit for me. MEPS was the first step in enlistment. I would have to wait until I graduated to enter basic training, but MEPS would be the start I needed in order to escape Sanford. I had to travel to Richmond, Virginia, for a physical and to be sworn into the military. I couldn’t let Sanford know I was going to Richmond, so I told him I was spending the weekend with my cousin, Rose. That Friday, Sergeant Williams picked me up and took me to the bus station. I was on my way, one step farther from Sanford.

  During my days at MEPS, I felt safe. Miles separated Sanford and me. When I raised my right hand and pledged my allegiance to the Constitution, I knew the Army was also pledging its allegiance to me, to protect me, to serve me. I looked at the American flag hanging on the wall and felt cloaked in it. I had an Army standing behind me, and I hoped it would be enough to release me from Sanford’s bondage.

  Before I left MEPS, I called Sergeant Williams to let him know what time I would be getting in.

  “You okay?” he asked with a voice of concern.

  “I’m great,” I responded, but my stomach began to get queasy, as the normal enthusiasm disappeared from his voice.

  “Your boyfriend must have found out about your trip to Richmond. He’s been calling me and my commanders all day, trying to stop us from enlisting you.”

  I called home to see what Momma knew. She met me with questions. “Why didn’t you tell me Sanford was trying to stop you from going in the Army?” By her tone, I could tell she was angry with me too. I had nowhere to go.

  Since Sanford had repeatedly threatened murder when I didn’t do what he ordered, I worried death was near. I, so far away in Richmond, could see the foam collecting at the corners of his lips, could feel my hair breaking away as he yanked, could see the bite marks, perfect indentations of his teeth, forming on my arms and legs. I feared he would meet me at the Greyhound bus station and bludgeon me there. Or he would wait until my recruiter took me home and then he would shoot me in front of my family, as he’d often threatened. I had the whole of the two-hour bus ride from Richmond to Portsmouth to contemplate my demise.

  When I arrived at the Portsmouth bus station, I saw a cop standing at the front entrance with his thumbs tucked in his belt. I surveyed the open area between myself and the cop, praying I would see Sanford before he pounced. I ran toward the cop. My haste startled him.

  “Can I speak with you?” I asked. “It’s an important matter.” I attempted to sound as adult as I could.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “I have a bit of a problem,” I stammered.

  “Okay.”

  “If someone is threatening to hurt me, would a restraining order protect me?” I’d heard about restraining orders from Momma when I eavesdropped on her conversations about Mr. Todd. Maybe one could work better for me than it had for Momma.

  “That depends,” the officer replied.

  “On what?” I asked.

  “Well, it could make the guy even angrier. He could come after you and then you’d be in more danger.”

  “But, if I did file for a restraining order, would the cops be looking for him around my house or something like that?”

  “No, you’d have to call us if he comes near you. We would arrest him then, but he’d eventually be able to get out.” He paused. “Do you have something you want to tell me?”

  “No, I was just wondering,” I replied quietly, saddened he couldn’t help.

  “All right, then. Good luck.”

  The peace I’d found at the MEPS station was erased from my reality. Sergeant Williams picked me up and began telling me stories about all of the calls he’d received from Sanford.

  “That guy’s a lunatic. He even claimed I was sleeping with you. I can’t understand why you’re with him.” I couldn’t either.

  I asked him to drop me off at the back door of my home. I didn’t dare enter from the front for fear Sanford would shoot or stab me. Sergeant Williams complied, even going so far as to walk me to the back door and wait until I was in the house safely. I breathed a sigh of relief once I made it into the kitchen and found Momma cooking.

  “Why’d you come in from the back door?” she asked.

  “Sergeant Williams dropped me off there.” I could barely eek out the words with the adrenaline of averting death pulsing through my veins. I made it home, so I would make it through another day. Tomorrow was too far away for me to worry. I stood in my house with its familiar smells and sounds. I looked at the fish frying in the pan and became ravenous. Momma startled me out of my trance with her words, “Someone’s here to see you. He’s in the front room.”

  My body became heavy, immediately weighted to the kitchen floor. I felt betrayed. Before I’d even seen him, I knew Sanford was in the living room and that room would be the last place I’d breathe. I wanted to bolt for the door, grab Momma and run, but I just stood. Momma put down the fork she used to flip the fish. She took my hand and led me into the living room. Unbeknownst to me, she had learned of the threatening calls Sanford had made to Sergeant Williams and she was not happy with his meddling. She, more than anyone else, wanted me to go into the military, partly because she’d wanted to go herself.

  The walk from the kitchen to the living room seemed longer than the bus ride from Richmond. My feet moved, but my mind stood still. Tomorrow seemed to me an unreachable feat. Sanford coolly sat in the chair as we entered the living room. He popped up as soon as he saw me. I braced for attack. While I still held Momma’s hand, he hugged me tightly. With a smile, he sang, “Hey, I missed you.”

  I searched his face for the moment in which he’d switch from the jovial Sanford to the one I knew. There he stood, sweet, smiling, asking questions about my MEPS visit.

  Momma was having none of the bantering. “Okay,” she said, “We need to talk. Sergeant Williams told me about all of the calls you made to him. You shouldn’t have done that, Sanford. That’s not your business. Now, I don’t know why Laurie didn’t tell you she was going in the Army, but she is going and you ne
ed to stop all of this. She’s leaving after she graduates anyway so you don’t have much time left together. Now, Laurie, do you want to be with Sanford?”

  I closed my eyes, waited for the moment he would jump on Momma or pull a gun and shoot. Petrified, I could barely speak, but I mustered a weak, “No, ma’am.”

  “Okay. Then, it’s over. Nice knowing you, Sanford. See yourself out.”

  My heart danced under my skin. I wasn’t sure I’d heard Momma correctly. According to her word, I was free. I held my breath, stifling the tears I cried inside. Free, free, free, my living for Sanford had ceased with Momma’s words. I didn’t look at Sanford, but I heard breath escaping him and his fingers tapping the wooden armrest, keeping time with my thumping heart.

  “Can I say goodbye to her?” he asked.

  My heart imploded when I heard, “Okay. Make it quick.”

  Momma walked back to the kitchen in order to tend to her fish. Once again, I readied myself for his wrath. The emotional roller coaster had become too much to bear. I preferred one death over Sanford killing me over and over again, so I was ready to accept whatever punishment he had for me. He watched as Momma left the room. No fire spit from his eyes or froth dripped from his chin. His face looked calm, his dark eyes glossed over, his mouth turned into a soft frown. He reached into his pocket, as I braced for what was to come.

  Sanford pulled out a handful of pennies. He pressed the cold copper into my hand and grabbed loosely my wrist.

  “I brought these for you.” He presented them with a smile, as if he were a four-year-old presenting his mother a bouquet of broken dandelions. I held them in my open hand, unsure of the gift’s meaning.

  He held my hand as it held the pennies and lowered his body so we met eye to eye.

  “You didn’t mean what you said, right? You just said it so your Momma could leave us alone, right?”

  Too afraid, too shocked to speak the truth, I shook my head “no.”

  “I know you still want to be with me. Don’t you?”

  I nodded “yes” even though I wanted to scream “no.”

  “I understand why you told your Momma that. It’s okay. We’ll talk tomorrow and figure out a way to see each other. I love you.” He kissed my cheek and pressed the cold pennies into my warm hand. “Goodbye, Ms. Lois,” he cheerily shouted as he exited the house.

  I didn’t know how to feel. I didn’t know what to do. There were so many competing emotions running through my head I felt exhausted. For that brief moment, with Momma standing there, I was free. But, I hadn’t been able to close the deal and back up Momma’s words. Shame followed me as I trudged upstairs to my bedroom. The fish no longer smelled appealing. I looked out of the window and saw Sanford walking in the distance. His walk had not lost the skip, which initially made him endearing. I held the pennies in my hand and lowered my head. Crying seemed childish, though I did it anyway, “Why won’t he just let me go? He doesn’t want or need me anymore. He has all those other girls. Why can’t I be free?” I pounded my penny-filled hand against the windowsill as I beat out the words. I wanted someone else to live my life, someone else to be strong for me.

  When I looked up, I saw an image out of the corner of my eye. At the store across the street from my house, there sat a white delivery truck. In between tears, I saw what appeared to be the stereotypical flowing hair, blue-eyed Jesus seen in every Baptist church, but it felt like an answer. It felt like a healing. I blinked hard and refocused my eyes. The image was gone, but a newfound peace settled over me. I was not alone and everything would be okay. I would not die by Sanford’s hands. I would eventually be free of his chains, but it wouldn’t happen on that day. It wasn’t time yet. It would be time soon enough, but not just yet. I crawled into bed that night, praying sleep would find me quickly. As I waited to slip into a deep slumber, I heard my family in the dining room, eating and sharing. It was going to be one of Mr. Bryan’s late-night entries and my siblings were taking advantage of the time they had with Momma. I wanted to be with them, to bite into the fish and allow its warmth to massage my throat. I wanted to feel the joy that they were feeling as they fed off each other, but my present state wouldn’t allow me to do that. If I had partaken in that feast, it wouldn’t have tasted right because of my journey, the one from which I had just returned and the one I still had to complete. After what Sanford had taken me through, some things, like family, just couldn’t fit together again. Rather than faking solidarity and wasting good food on my muted palate, I chose not to eat, as I waited for sleep.

  Reawakening

  During school, I’d taken to meandering in the halls, no longer interested in what my teachers had to say. The lessons I needed most, the ones that might have saved my life, were not on any of their lesson plans. I cut through the empty cafeteria, startled by the quietness of it all, unwittingly tiptoeing because I didn’t want to awaken the silence of the place. The halls on the other side of the cafeteria held the band room, the custodial lounge, and other dark places I could remain undetected.

  As I exited the cafeteria doors, I stumbled upon Sanford and a girl named Tameka. It appeared they too were looking to go undetected. There they stood, facing one another, him looking down, her looking up, embraced in each other’s gazes. I did not know what to do. The role of girlfriend, a title I wore even if I didn’t want to, called for me to confront them, to pull what little hair Tameka had and scream, “What are you doing with my man?” But the prisoner in me stood solid on that tiled floor, littered with brown, blue, and red specks heavy enough to hold me in that space. I was not angry. I was not sad. I was curious, wondering if Tameka would finally be the one, if she could fill him enough so he no longer needed me.

  Sanford saw me first, snickered under his breath and leaned his large arm against the tiled wall. Tameka turned quickly, and exhaled an “Oh,” which might have knocked me over if we would have been closer. I did not speak. I didn’t even know if I had the right to. Sanford looked to be as much hers as he was mine and I couldn’t be certain I hadn’t become the other girl.

  Sanford walked toward me and said nothing. He looked as if he were waiting for me to react. I’m certain he expected of me what I expected, chaos, anger, but by then he had beaten the fight out of me, so I had none to spare. I braced myself, readied my arm for a snatching or my hair for the pulling. Instead, he smiled, cut to the left, and disappeared through the cafeteria doors. By the time I looked back at Tameka, she was rushing into the bathroom down the hall. I followed her, uncertain of what I would do. I didn’t even feel myself walking, my legs moving, or my shoes clanging against the tiled floor. I saw myself doing it, saw the heavy wooden door push against my hands, saw my eyes burning with tears I could not let fall. My body had disconnected from my mind. That shell of me stood in front of Tameka as she, with a paper towel, wiped her face.

  “Are you messing with him?” I asked.

  “Naw,” she replied without the heat I had anticipated. She wasn’t playing her part either, which called for cursing, threatening words from her mouth.

  “Why were you here together?”

  Part of me hoped she’d say they were in love and he wanted to break up with me, but there was still that prideful part of me, that lion lurking that did not want to be rejected, that didn’t know who I was if I wasn’t Sanford’s rag doll. That part of me hoped she’d say nothing.

  “He’s been trying to get with me, but I don’t really like him like that.”

  Him wanting her and not getting her wasn’t enough. Him wanting the others and even getting them wasn’t enough. I knew then she couldn’t help me.

  “What did he say to you?” I prodded.

  “Just that he likes me and he thinks I’m pretty.” A wave of emotion washed over my arms, my legs, my neck, my head, pressing deeply on all parts of me.

  “I can’t take this anymore,” I said as I pulled my stringy hair through my fingers. “Why is he doing this to me? Why? Why?” I cried. Tameka stared at me with horror i
n her eyes. She appeared to be searching for answers to questions that did not belong to her. She placed her hand on my arm, as I leaned against the sink. I prayed the pressure would stop. I hoped either I or the wave would break. I didn’t care which, as long as it separated from me.

  “What’s he doing to you?” Tameka asked. “I’m sorry, but I thought you two weren’t together.”

  “We’re not. I mean we are. He just won’t let me go. I keep trying to do everything right. I do what he tells me, but he just won’t stop.” She nodded as if she knew the secret I worked so hard to hide from the world.

  “I’m not gonna mess with him,” she said. “I didn’t know y’all were together and if I had I would never have talked to him. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  To my surprise, the pressure lessened when she said that. I hadn’t told her Sanford was hitting me out of fear he would retaliate, but I had said enough without that information to make her leave him alone. I knew I didn’t want Sanford, but she didn’t know that. Yet, she had bent to my will even though my will was opposite of what she had done. The pressure within was replaced with a gnawing, like the chipping of a saw cutting through unnecessary layers. I had maintained an ounce of the fight I had before gentle eyes turned dark, before soft hands slammed against faces. There was hope I could become me again.

  Later, when I sat next to Sanford in the car, when I held my fingers close to my scalp, attempting to lessen his hold on the hair that he gripped between his fists, shielding my face, my eyes, my nose from wild blows, I remembered that moment in the bathroom with Tameka, when I had won a battle, when I had found the last piece of me protecting itself from what I had become.

  Lemme Show You Something

  The senior show for the graduating class filled the halls of Wilson High with anticipation. Most kids skipped classes before the performance, preoccupied with purchasing pom-poms, #1 foam hands, and painting their faces orange and blue. That year, Sanford had been a wide receiver on the team, #83, but he had been ineligible to play because of his age. Still I, in my sequined majorette uniform, with my baton held tightly in my hand, clapped for my love during the games, even though he wasn’t often loving me.