Faking Reality

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Faking Reality Page 11

by Zaria Garrison


  “What’s wrong?” he asked. Philippe was listening to T. D. Jakes choir singing, “This Test Is Your Storm.”

  Danita slumped back in her seat. “That music is working my last nerve.”

  Confused, he turned the radio off. For the past several months, Danita had insisted that the car stereo always be tuned to a gospel radio station or that he play only gospel CDs. Glancing back at her, Philippe reasoned that she was probably through pretending. Anderson had advised them that he had enough footage to complete the last two shows of the season and all of the cameras had been removed the day before. “Do you want me to play something else? I’ve got Beyonce’s latest CD up here.”

  “No, I just want silence, please.” She pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes and leaned her head back against the leather seat. The last few words she’d heard of the song continued to play inside her head.

  This test is your storm, but it won’t be long, go through, hold on.

  Over and over it echoed like a commercial jingle that just wouldn’t go away. Whatever, God, I’m tired of your test, she thought. By the time they reached her home, the song inside Danita’s head had begun to annoy and anger her. Without waiting for Philippe to open her door, she jumped out of the limousine and rushed inside her house, slamming the front door behind her. Then she swiftly ran upstairs and into the master bedroom. The song continued playing over and over in her head as if her brain was a DJ stuck on repeat.

  Danita grabbed a pillow from her bed. She hurled it across the room in frustration. “I’m sick of your test, God,” she yelled. “This is not fair. First, you took Ben, then you let me stand trial for his murder. Now you want my children too?” Danita threw another pillow and watched it crash into her closet door. “Okay, I’ve made some mistakes, and I haven’t done what I should all the time, but now you are just being cruel. What more do you want? I can’t please you. I don’t know how to please you.” Grabbing the remaining eight decorative pillows from her bed, she fired each one off in succession across the room. They landed on her dresser, vanity, and floor. With nothing left to throw, Danita stared upward and began sobbing. “I can’t take anymore. I can’t. My God, why have thou forsaken me?” she cried as she crumbled onto the floor in a pool of her own tears.

  Danita’s bedroom door slowly creaked open, and Summer walked in. “Mommy, are you okay?”

  Quickly wiping her tears, Danita tried to regain her composure. “Yes, sweetie, I’m fine. I didn’t know you were home. Where are your sisters?”

  “They’re downstairs in the playroom with Ms. Vivian.”

  Danita stood up and straightened out her clothes. “Why aren’t you playing with them too?”

  “I came up here to ask for your help . . . with my lesson.”

  “Sure, baby, come sit with me.” Danita wiped away the last remnants of her tantrum and sat down on the bed and waited for Summer to join her. “What do you need help with, math or science?”

  Summer sat on the bed next to Danita and opened her book. “Neither, it’s my Sunday School lesson. We’re studying Joseph and the coat of many colors.”

  “Yes, that’s a wonderful story. What do you need help with?”

  “The teacher wants us to cut up strips of paper in different colors and make a coat with all the colors in it from the story. Can you help me?” Reaching into her pocket, Summer pulled out several colorful strips of paper and laid them on the bed. Then she pulled out a piece of paper that had a small man with a blank white coat drawn on it. She pointed at the man. “That’s Joseph. When I find the colors in the story I’m supposed to tape them on his coat.”

  “Okay, sweetie, go ahead and read the story.”

  Summer picked up her workbook and began to read. “There once was a man named Jacob, and he had twelve sons. Of all his sons, Joseph was his favorite. Jacob gave Joseph a beautiful coat. Whenever he wore it, his brothers were green with envy.” Summer stopped reading and put the green strip of paper on Joseph’s coat, then went back to the story. “One day his brothers got so jealous that they took his coat and threw him down a well. All Joseph could see was black all around.” Again, Summer stopped, and this time she added the black strip to the paper.

  “Just keep reading, I’ll add the colors,” Danita suggested.

  “Joseph’s brothers took him from the well and sold him to a group of men from Egypt to be their slave. Then they killed a goat and splashed red blood all over Joseph’s coat. They took it to their father and told them that Joseph had been killed. Joseph’s father was blue because he thought his son was gone forever.”

  Danita added the red and blue strips of paper to the coat. Since there were no more strips to add she believed that she was done, but Summer continued reading. “But that isn’t the end of this story. God was with Joseph and kept him safe. God had a plan for his life. God was watching over Joseph. Joseph wasn’t the perfect child. He was probably spoiled and thought too much of himself. He was also a tattle-tale. His brothers were jealous and did a very bad thing. But we will learn next week how God took a very bad situation and made something good out of it. We will see how God can make bad things good again.

  “Sometimes you have bad things happen in your life that you think just aren’t fair. Maybe you have people that pick on you or call you names. Or maybe someone is sick in your family or doesn’t have a job. God wants you to know that He is always with you no matter what happens. He is watching over you and your family. He is with you wherever you go and no matter what you do. He can take something bad and turn it into something good. So, when you have a problem or bad things are happening, just remember that God is with you. When you pray to Him, God is there to listen to your troubles. Next week we will learn how God helped Joseph and his family with their problems and made a bad thing good.”

  Danita began to cry again, unable to stop the tears. As the leader of a huge congregation, she’d preached sermons to thousands of people, yet it never occurred to her that her ten-year-old daughter would be the one preaching to her. She pulled Summer into a hug and held her tightly.

  “Now we have to say the prayer together, Mommy,” Summer said.

  Wiping her tears, Danita looked over Summer’s shoulder at the book, and they prayed together. It was the first sincere prayer Danita had uttered in over a year.

  Dear God,

  Thank you that you are with me

  no matter what happens.

  Thank you that you can take something bad,

  and turn it into something good.

  In Jesus’ name,

  amen.

  Danita hugged her daughter tightly once again. “Hey, how would you and your sisters like to go out to dinner tonight?”

  A big grin spread across Summer’s face. “Can we pick the restaurant?” she asked.

  “Of course, we’ll go wherever you want. Now run downstairs and tell Vivian, so that you girls can get ready.” Danita gave her daughter another hug and a kiss before sending her out. Once Summer was gone, Danita looked up. “Okay, God, I’m through fighting with you. I surrender to your will. Please help me. Please don’t let them take my girls away.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  As he did every morning, Zack Morton trotted up his basement stairs and locked the door behind him. He turned to greet his wife and noticed that there was a guest with her in the kitchen. “Vanessa, I’m surprised to see you here,” Zack said as he sat down at the kitchen table.

  “You always are,” she said sarcastically. “Since they are through filming your TV show, I thought it was about time I met my new little cousin, Coretta.” Vanessa bounced the baby on her lap and grinned at her.

  “Your breakfast is ready, sweetheart,” Charlene said. She placed a plate in front of Zack with scrambled eggs, country ham, and buttered toast.

  “Thank you, sweetheart.” Zack took a bite of his ham, then looked over at Vanessa. “Have you been watching the show? It’s a ratings and viewer success.”

  “I detest reality TV,” Vanes
sa answered.

  Zack put his coffee cup down and leaned back in his chair. “Really? Why is that?”

  “Not that it would matter to you, but most of the reality shows that are on television are degrading to African Americans. They are stereotypical and exploitive.”

  Zack nodded his head. “I actually agree with you on that, but our show is different. If it wasn’t, then I would not be a part of it, and I certainly would not let my family be involved.”

  Vanessa laughed. “Do you really believe that? You are blond and blue eyed, so you bring in the right demographic. Then you have a beautiful sista as your wife, to add the controversy and drama.”

  Zack pushed his plate away and suddenly stood up from the table. “I’d better get going. I have an early meeting today.” Taking his daughter from Vanessa’s lap, he gave her a kiss on the cheek, and then handed her to Charlene. “I think she needs changing,” he said. Then he kissed Charlene good-bye and walked out the back door.

  Charlene glared at her cousin. “Why do you always have to start with him?”

  “I didn’t do anything but speak my mind. He should know better than to ask questions if he isn’t prepared for the answers.”

  Charlene pulled out a chair and sat down while balancing Coretta on her hip. “You were just being difficult. You know you haven’t missed an episode of our show. You told me that you really like it, and you thought that it was unusual.”

  “Well, you’re family. Of course I’m watching your show, but I didn’t have to tell him that. Hey, did you hear about the verdict in your cast mate’s wrongful death trial?”

  Charlene nodded her head and stood up with the baby. “Yes, I heard. Come upstairs with me. Zack was right. Coretta does need to be changed.”

  Vanessa followed Charlene up the stairs and into the nursery. “Wow, this looks so nice. I told you decorating with Princess Tiana would be a great idea.”

  “You only say that because people say you look like Anika Noni Rose, and you have the nerve to believe it,” Charlene laughed.

  Vanessa laughed too. “Don’t hate,” she said and winked at Charlene. “So, what do you think about Evangelist Hyatt’s verdict?”

  “I think it’s sad. That poor woman has been through so much already.” Charlene laid Coretta on the changing table and unsnapped her onesie.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Vanessa took a seat in the rocking chair and slowly began to rock back and forth.

  “No, I’m not. Since we’ve been on the show together, I’ve had a chance to be around her quite a bit. I don’t believe she killed her husband, and she adores her girls. You can just feel it when you are around her.”

  “I think she got away with murder, but I guess being around her, you have become friends or something. Does that mean you like all of your cast mates?”

  “Um . . . I get along with most of them.” Charlene finished changing Coretta’s diaper and picked her up. Vanessa held out her arms for the baby, and she handed her over. Sitting down beside Vanessa in the matching rocking chair, Charlene pulled a basket of clothes closer and began folding tiny pink T-shirts and shorts.

  “So, tell me . . . who don’t you like?” Vanessa asked.

  “Bishop Jimmy Snow and his wife are really nice. They have two great kids. Priscilla babysat the twins last week when the nanny was sick. JJ is a real jokester. Martin and Luther follow him around like he’s the Pied Piper. We’ve all grown really close.”

  “So you like the Snows and Evangelist Hyatt. That must mean that you don’t like Brandon Kitts and his wife. Maybe he should have stuck to playing football,” Vanessa chuckled.

  “Oh, no. Brandon is an anointed man of God. His ministry is powerful. Leaving the NFL was the best decision he could have made in his life.” Charlene hesitated. Although she trusted Vanessa, she hated to gossip. “I just think his wife is . . . Well, she’s kind of standoffish. I’m sure she’s a lovely woman, but she just doesn’t allow anyone to get close enough to her to find that out.”

  Vanessa looked down and noticed that she’d rocked Coretta to sleep. Quietly, she stood up and walked over to her crib and gently laid her down. Leaning into the crib, she kissed her forehead. Then she sat down and began helping Charlene fold the remaining clothes. “Listen, cuz, it’s just you and me in here. Come on, you can be truthful. Girlfriend is a witch, ain’t she?”

  “No, I don’t think so. She’s expecting, so I thought since I have a new baby the two of us could bond. It’s her first child; you’d think she’d want to hear from someone who’s been through it.”

  “Yeah, so, did she want any advice from you?”

  “Nope. As a matter of fact, she doesn’t seem to want to discuss her pregnancy at all. And I respect a person’s right to their personal space, but she went ballistic last week when Julian tried to touch her belly.”

  Vanessa nodded her head. “That’s not so strange. I hated having my belly rubbed when I was pregnant. It’s annoying.”

  “I guess so, but there just seems to be more to it.” Charlene folded the last baby T-shirt from the basket. She walked over to the dresser and put all of the clothes away. Looking into the crib she saw that Coretta was sleeping soundly. “Come on. Let’s go to the family room. I don’t want to disturb her with our conversation.”

  When they arrived downstairs, Vanessa sprawled onto the sofa and grabbed the TV remote. “I want to watch the news and see if there’s an update on Mabel Joe Stevens’s disappearance.”

  “Who’s that?” Charlene asked, as she sat beside her.

  “Do you even listen when I talk? She’s the woman from the hospital who’s been missing for almost three months now.”

  Charlene felt nauseated as she suddenly remembered. “You mean, they haven’t found her yet?”

  Vanessa shook her head as she flipped channels. “It’s almost like she’s disappeared off the face of the earth.”

  Two months earlier, Vanessa had called Charlene to tell her about the latest hospital gossip. As the fourth-floor head nurse, Vanessa was familiar with almost everyone there. Although Charlene stopped working at the hospital after her marriage, there were still employees, doctors, and nurses that she was familiar with and they often chatted about them. When Vanessa first mentioned the name Mabel Joe Stevens, it did not ring a bell. It wasn’t until Vanessa described her that it became clear to Charlene who the woman was.

  Mabel Joe was a short, middle-aged woman with caramel-colored skin and a short Afro that had just a patch of grey up front. According to Vanessa, Mabel Joe left work one day, and when her two days off were over, she did not return. Her supervisor called her home over and over and got no answer, so she went to her house. It was empty, and Mabel Joe was nowhere to be found. The supervisor felt that something was wrong so she called the police. After a thorough search of the house, the police found no evidence of forced entry or theft. It just seemed as if Mabel Joe just disappeared. Some of her clothes were missing, and the police suggested that she probably went on vacation.

  A month later, the supervisor called the police again. She stated that it was unlike Mabel Joe to just leave without telling anyone where she was going. In ten years, she’d rarely missed a day of work. The supervisor was convinced that foul play was involved and insisted that the police file a missing person’s report. With the help of Mabel Joe’s coworkers and neighbors, the supervisor taped flyers up all over Atlanta with Mabel Joe’s picture on it. They’d had very few leads, and so far, nothing had panned out.

  “What about her family? Have they heard from her?” Charlene asked.

  Vanessa sighed. “I know Mabel Joe likes to talk about him in the present tense, as if he’s still alive, but she doesn’t have any family. Her son was killed in Iraq two years ago, and his children are with their mother in Hawaii.”

  Still feeling sick, Charlene decided to confide in her cousin. Taking a deep breath, she told her about the morning after Coretta’s birth and Zack’s reaction to Mabel Joe.

  “That is so w
eird. Did you ask him about it later?”

  Charlene shook her head. “It bothered me, but I decided it wasn’t worth pursuing. Zack gets approached by strangers all the time. It’s a part of being a well-known pastor.”

  “Then why are you so concerned? Don’t try to deny it. I can see it in your face. What else is going on?”

  Charlene left the family room and went upstairs to her bedroom to retrieve her purse. She returned several minutes later just as the news was ending. “Did they have any updates on her?”

  “Nope, they didn’t mention her at all. I think the police have probably given up hope of ever finding her alive.”

  “Don’t say that. She’s fine. She just has to be.” Charlene plopped down on the sofa and tried to steady her trembling hands. She reached inside her purse and pulled out an old picture. Without a word, she handed it to Vanessa.

  “Where did you get this?” Vanessa demanded.

  Charlene looked down at her feet, then whispered, “Zack’s car.”

  Vanessa stared at the picture of a much-younger Mabel Joe Stevens. She was standing in front of a wrought-iron fence wearing a blue and yellow dress with a big yellow hat. Standing on either side of her were two little boys who appeared to be around nine or ten years old. They were both wearing new Sunday suits, with ties and shiny black patent leather shoes. One of the boys was dark skinned with his hair cut into a fade. The other little boy was very light skinned with dark brown curly hair.

  Turning the picture over Vanessa read the words aloud. “Easter Sunday, 1987.” She slowly shook her head. “How long have you had this?”

  “I found it a couple of months ago. Zack let me use his car to take Coretta to her first doctor’s appointment. This was in the glove compartment.”

  “We have to call the police right now.”

  “What for? It’s just a picture.”

  Vanessa’s brow wrinkled up, and her eyes were open as wide as they could go. “It’s a picture of the woman who’s been missing for almost three months. This could be a clue.”

 

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