Ray of Hope

by Vanessa Davis Griggs

  Ma Ray looked confused.

  “Put on blast … called out in public,” Sahara said.

  “Oh,” Ma Ray said with a smile.

  “We get put on blast because we fall and we fail and we’re bad kids. Because we don’t live up to other people’s expectations or even worse: because we don’t fulfill the dreams that were someone else’s foiled or aborted dreams. I don’t want to be a lawyer or a doctor. I want to be a model. But who cares what I want? It’s only my life.”

  “I care. Your mother cares. Edmond cares. Even your father cares.”

  “See, that’s why I keep telling y’all that none of you understand. My mother cares because that’s what mothers are supposed to do to be good mothers.”

  “Sahara, that’s not fair to your mother.”

  “Okay, you’re right. My mother cares, she just doesn’t care enough. And Edmond will be happy when I’m out of their house and their hair. The only reason he’s afraid I won’t graduate or get into a college is because that would mean I’ll be stuck at their house that much longer. And my father, oh, I don’t even want to go there. He hardly ever calls. He doesn’t pay child support, which incidentally means more to Mama than it does to me. I know she needs the money, but I’d be happy just knowing that I … that we were important enough to our father that he wants to spend some time with us. Is that too much to ask?”

  “Well, now, your father truly is dealing with a lot of stuff. Stuff that’s definitely not your or your sister’s fault.”

  “Yes, I know that he went to jail. Which means he now has a record. That makes it harder for him to get a job or at least a decent job because of his record. Mama has had him picked up for failure to pay child support and getting behind in his payments. Then he can’t work because he’s in jail. He loses the piece of a job that he had. So he can’t pay child support. It’s just one vicious cycle. People who mess up are told they should be productive in society, but then everything is stacked against them having that opportunity. And as young people, we’re supposed to understand what grown folks sure don’t seem to be able to? It’s just… not… fair!” Sahara wiped her tears.

  “Sahara, we’re all here for you. We’re here for you and for Crystal. Granted, as adults, we’re looked at to have all the answers. But the truth is: we don’t always. But I’ll tell you what I do know. I know that each and every one of us is doing the best we know how. And when we mess up, we try our best to fix it. That’s all we’re asking of you. You’re a smart young lady with so much potential … so much potential. But you’re squandering it. And for what? Because you want to be part of some lame group.”

  “Lame, Ma Ray?”

  “Yes, lame. A crowd of underachievers. You need to find the group that’s supposed to be cool or whatever the right word is now.”

  Sahara began to laugh. “It’s crunk.”

  “Crunk?”

  “Yes, crunk. Or poppin’. Poppin’s good.”

  “What about ghetto fabulous?” Ma Ray asked.

  “No. Ghetto fabulous is not really good. Ghetto fabulous is people who are trying to have a rich look without the real wealth to sustain it.”

  “Then that sounds exactly like the word I’m looking for when it comes to some of the people you’re stooping down to be a part of. They’re trying to have a rich look in character when they really don’t have the true wealth to pull it off. They’re spiritually and morally bankrupted—morally ghetto fabulous.”

  “Ooh, good one, Ma Ray.”

  “Maybe you should join my club.” Ma Ray playfully bumped Sahara.

  Sahara bumped back. “What’s the name of your club? The Sanctified Sisters?”

  “Some might call us The Saints That Really Ain’t, or better yet, The Saints That Weren’t Always. Because, Sahara, despite what you see now, none of us have walked a perfect line all of our lives. I don’t care what people may show you. We’ve all teetered or faltered on that line at some point. Everyone has a scar or two somewhere, everyone. Some scars are seen; some hidden. From the parking lot to the pulpit, everyone.”

  “Sure, Ma Ray. I’m pretty sure that God, long ago, forgave you for that piece of bubble gum you stole when you were four years old.”

  “How did you know about that?” Ma Ray said. She started laughing. “I’m just teasing. But don’t be fooled, now. All of us are human. That’s no excuse, but there comes a time when, in order to save another, we have to show our own scars. Jesus was nailed to the cross, though not for sins of His own. Those were our sins on Him up on that cross.”

  “I know, I know, Ma Ray. It was for you and me. Please, can we not have a Bible study right now. I’m seriously not in the mood for a sermon.”

  “And I wasn’t going to preach one. But what I was trying to say before I was so rudely interrupted is that Jesus had scars from what He went through. And Thomas, one of His hand-picked disciples, refused to believe it was really Jesus until he could see and feel the scars for himself. Jesus allowed old doubting Thomas to see and touch the scars just so we, who wouldn’t be able to do so but believed just the same, might be blessed.”

  “Okay, Ma Ray. I get it. You can pay for me to go to that youth conference. I’ll show that little smug Andre not to mess with me.”

  “I think Andre is a nice young man. You could learn a lot from him.”

  “You know, he’s not as nice as he tries to pretend to be, right?”

  “From all I know of him, he is. Has he done anything that proves otherwise?”

  “No. It’s just the nice acting ones are usually the ones you really need to watch out for. They put on these great acts in front of folks, but behind closed doors, they’re nothing like what they let the world see.”

  “Well, I don’t get that from either of the twins. I think Ms. Tootsie has done and is doing a fine job with them. Now, about what happened with that Bradley fellow. Do you realize the danger you put everybody in this house in?”

  Sahara pressed her back against the headboard of the bed and laid her head back. “I didn’t, until I saw you with that shotgun.” She looked square at Ma Ray. “That was going a little overboard, don’t you think?”

  “Sahara, I heard someone breaking in my house. You and Crystal are the most valuable things in this house right now. If I feel you’re in danger, I’m going to do whatever I need to protect you. That’s just a fact.”

  “Well, I don’t see what the big deal was about him being here.”

  “There is no big deal about him being here. If you want to invite your friends over, do it the right way. Tell them to come at a decent hour and preferably to ring the front doorbell. I don’t have a problem with that. But you, trying to sneak some guy in, or you, trying to sneak out of the house in the dead of night, is not acceptable. It’s just not. If you want to go out, tell the guy to pick you up at the front door. And I want to look in his eyes before you leave here with him. That’s all I’m saying. I’m not trying to treat you like a baby. But there are lots of wolves in sheep’s clothing roaming around out there. And you young folks need all the help you can get navigating around them.”

  Sahara leaned over, picked up a speck from the pink chenille bedspread, and dropped the white speck onto the floor. “But B-Man is not a bad guy.”

  “Then why would he disrespect you by sneaking up in here at two o’clock in the morning?” Ma Ray asked. “Huh?”

  “That was partly my fault. He wanted to see me. I didn’t feel like going through drama with you, so I told him to come over after midnight. I figured you would be asleep by then. I’d planned on meeting him outside. But he lost his signal on his cell phone.”

  “But he was in the house on his way up the stairs,” Ma Ray said.

  “Yeah, now that was sort of bad on his part. I’d told him which room I stayed in. I suppose when he made it to the house, he found a way in and was coming to my room.”

  Ma Ray tilted her head. “He found a way in? Found a way in? Sahara, I hope you don’t really believe I’m accepti
ng, as truth, all of this bologna you’re trying to feed me.”

  “Okay, I may have left a door unlocked. But you leave doors and windows open for fresh air all the time. I told him which room I stayed in. But I thought he’d have been here before two. That’s the truth, Ma Ray. I had no intentions of him coming here at two in the morning. He just wanted to see me. And frankly, I didn’t see any harm in it.”

  “As I’ve said, your friends are welcome to come visit. As long as it’s a decent hour when they arrive, and as long as they are respectful enough to come through my front door when a responsible adult is here.” Ma Ray smiled as she looked at Sahara. “Do we have an understanding?”

  “Sure. Yeah. No problem. Your house, your rules.”

  “Honey, no one has rules to hurt you. Rules are there to protect you. I know you want to have fun, but with everything in life, there are consequences. Sometimes, what may have seemed like fun can turn into tragedy in a heartbeat. Folks who love you like me, your mother, Edmond, even your father … we all want the best for you. And if you ever want to talk about anything, and I do mean anything, I’m here for you. Okay?”

  Sahara smiled. “Sure. Sure, Ma Ray.” And just as quickly, her smile faded.

  Chapter 15

  For we have heard how the Lord dried up the water of the Red Sea for you, when ye came out of Egypt; and what ye did unto the two kings of the Amorites, that were on the other side Jordan, Sihon and Og, whom ye utterly destroyed.

  —Joshua 2:10

  Ma Ray looked again in her jewelry box. The diamond watch she wore to church every Sunday was not there. She knew she’d put it in there when she came home from church last Sunday. It was a ritual she did without thinking about it. She would get home from church, take off the watch, put it in the jewelry box, then deal with changing into more comfortable clothes. It was that way every single time. So there’s no way she could have misplaced it.

  The watch was more than valuable from a monetary standpoint. It had sentimental value. Her beloved husband, Sal, had given it to her on their thirtieth wedding anniversary. She’d thought it was a bit extravagant; he’d said she was worth it and so much more. Sal had been a policeman, an undercover detective. That’s how she’d met him, though nothing like people may have thought. Later, he became a preacher. And she played the piano for the small church he was called to pastor. They’d bought this house to be closer to the church and to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city life. For a few years, he even tried his hand at farming, though that just as quickly went by the wayside.

  Ma Ray had loved every minute of being married to Sal. Because of him, her whole life had changed. He was the one who brought her to the Lord. After years of being told she would never be able to conceive, she found out she was indeed blessed to be pregnant—a miracle. Beau Azra Towers (Boaz for short, named after Sal’s longtime partner killed in the line of duty) was born, and two years later, Lenora Tracey Towers—proving just how much God really can do the impossible. Like the way God dried up a roadway for the children of Israel to cross the Red Sea without them getting stuck in the muck, when Pharaoh’s army was about to overtake them. That’s how God is.

  That’s what Ma Ray loved about the Lord. Not only could you read about the history of what God has done for others, but there was your own history of what God has done for you to lean on for encouragement. A person could do as David did when he was about to fight Goliath, who he called an uncircumcised Philistine—a giant that had the nerve to defy the armies of the living God. When King Saul told David, a youth, he wasn’t able to fight against Goliath—“a man of war from his youth”—David recalled his history while keeping his father’s sheep. How there’d come a lion and a bear that took a lamb out of the flock, and how he’d defeated them. What was this giant to God?

  Ma Ray had a history. Not many knew of her true history, but she knew. She knew what and where God had brought her from. And if she found that she would need to show her scars to save her granddaughters, then that’s what she would do. But for now, she was doing whatever she could to reach them, whatever tools at her disposal.

  Sahara walked into Ma Ray’s bedroom. Ma Ray snapped out of her thoughts and looked up. “You need to put on the skirt to that top, and hurry up. It’s time for us to leave for church.”

  “What skirt?” Sahara asked, glancing down at herself.

  “The skirt that I’m sure goes with that shirt you have on.”

  “Ma Ray, this is a dress.” Sahara looked down again. “This is it. All of it.”

  “Oh, no, it’s not. You’re not going out of this house with just that on. Does your mother know you have that?”

  “Know? She was the one who bought it for me.”

  “She must not have looked at it good when she bought it. Or maybe she thought it was a shirt. Whatever, I can tell you that you’re not going out of this house with just that on.” Ma Ray made a vertical gesture with a slightly crooked index finger. “And you’re especially not going to the church house wearing that.”

  “This is the style, Ma Ray. This is what people are wearing. You need to get with the times.”

  “Oh, I’m with the times, all right. And it’s time you make your way back up to your room and find something to add under that, with it, or find something else that covers more than what that thing is covering now.”

  Sahara let out a loud sigh. “Ma Ray—”

  “Sahara,” Ma Ray said, mimicking back the same tone. “Listen, if you walk up in our church house with that on, Sister Thomas will personally grab you, time you step through the door, and carry you straight to the altar. Then she will proceed to get some oil and start praying the lust demons out of you—”

  “Okay … all right. I’ll change. I don’t want any drama today.”

  Ma Ray closed the drawer of the jewelry box. “Sahara, you wouldn’t by chance have seen my watch, have you?”

  “You mean the diamond watch you wear on Sundays?”

  “Yeah. That one.”

  “No, ma’am. I haven’t. Did you lose it or something?”

  “No. I’m pretty certain that I put it in here.” Ma Ray nodded toward the jewelry box. She turned back to Sahara and forced a smile. “Hurry up now and change. I hate being late for church, even if they don’t ever start on time.”

  The church building was modestly full. Reverend Pettaway preached a blistering sermon about the three Hebrew boys in the fiery furnace. Ma Ray concluded that was one of his favorite passages to preach from since he preached it at least once a year, most times during the scorching summertime.

  When collection time came, Ma Ray opened her wallet. There were only five one-dollar bills and a five-dollar bill in there. She looked in other compartments of the wallet and then inside various parts of her purse. She’d had one hundred dollars on Saturday. She’d given the twins ten dollars each for them bringing the fruits and vegetables in the house since she’d already paid for them prior to them being picked up. Ma Ray was meticulous about where she kept her money. She kept her bills in one place, her change in her change purse. One place—never anywhere else. It was evident: someone had been in her purse and stolen the other seventy dollars. She gave Sahara and Crystal both two dollars each to put in the collection plate. She took out the other five and placed it in the plate for herself. Ma Ray began to rock her body slightly as she silently prayed.

  After service, Crystal came over to Ma Ray. “Ma Ray, can Sahara and I have fifty cents to buy a drink from Old Man Miller? We left our money at home.”

  Where other churches may have had vending machines, Old Man Miller sold off-brand sodas out of a cooler he kept in the trunk of his car. That was the highlight for the members, especially the children, when church dismissed: to buy a drink from Old Man Miller. He’d buy the drinks for about twenty cents and sell them for fifty. No one minded paying that, since it was convenient having him there, particularly during the heated summertime.

  Ma Ray pulled out her last dollar bill and h
anded it to Crystal. “Oh, and Crystal, it’s Mister Miller for us; we call him Mister Miller.”

  “Well, I was just calling him what all the others call him,” Crystal said.

  Ma Ray smiled. “I know, sweetheart. But we’re different. Mister Miller.”

  “Would you like one, Ma Ray?” Crystal asked.

  Ma Ray smiled. “No, dear. But thank you for asking.”

  Crystal smiled, then hurried away.

  Ma Ray closed her purse and patted the outside of it a few times. She then said yet another prayer.

  Chapter 16

  And as soon as we had heard these things, our hearts did melt, neither did there remain any more courage in any man, because of you: for the Lord your God, he is God in heaven above, and in earth beneath.

  —Joshua 2:11

  When Ma Ray got home from church, she looked to see what else might be missing that she hadn’t noticed before. The one-carat, diamond, heart-shaped necklace Boaz had given her was not there. But other than those things, she didn’t notice anything else.

  Ma Ray generally cooked on Saturday nights for Sunday, but with all of the traffic in and out, she didn’t get a chance to fix anything but a pot of purple hull peas. Having fresh vegetables in the back waiting to be put up helped a bit with a few more things she could prepare. The girls liked salads, and it would be especially good since the tomatoes and cucumbers were so fresh. Creamed corn was another one of her specialties. And instead of a peach cobbler, she decided she could make peach turnovers.

  Before she could even get started, there was a knock on her front door. Tootsie stood with her grandsons. Tootsie rarely ever rang Ma Ray’s doorbell when she visited.

  “Tootsie, what are you doing here?” Ma Ray said as she opened the front door.

  “I thought you’d likely not have cooked like you normally do. So I decided to do the neighborly thing and bring you some of what I fixed. Besides, it’s no fun eating a fabulous meal without some fabulous company. It’s been a while since we’ve broken bread together, and I’m sure our grandchildren will enjoy each other’s company. So here I am.”