grandpapa's name was William and my
grandmama's name was Etta. They named their one
and only child, Willetta."
Willetta felt the skin on her body tighten in
response to the implications of the woman's words.
Unwilling to guess and terrified to believe, Willetta
waited, but her next words sent both Andrik and
Willetta into a mental tailspin.
"You look a lot like Stanley, my son. I
didn't know he had fathered a child. I bet Jean
knew it. It was just like her to keep it to herself
too."
Andrik swung the car into Mama Jean's yard
and turned the switch off abruptly. "Do you mean
to tell me that Willetta is my sister," he yelled. "Hold your voice down young man. I ain't
got no hearing problems," the old woman said. "What's your name," Willetta asked. "I'm Martha Thomas, your grandmother. I
ain't never been married because the one man I ever
loved got me pregnant and ran off with another
woman. It was always me and Stanley until
momma took him away from me."
"Where have you been all this time? How
could you not know about me and Andrik," Willetta
asked in disbelief.
"Now wait a minute. I knew about Andrik.
Andrik is Anita's son, but he ain't Stanley's son. I
just never knew about you, missy. I been in
California for thirty-five years now," she said as her
eyes slid towards Andrik.
Both Martha and Willetta turned their
attention to Andrik who was not lost to the
significance of the fact that Martha had been in
California for thirty-five years. He was exactly
thirty-five years old and his birth must have had
something to do with her exodus or either her exile. Andrik suddenly had a very strong dislike
for Martha Williams. He didn't like or trust her.
She could be lying. He had never seen her in his
life and the things she was saying were unbelievable
and devastating. His mother could have told him on
her death bed, because he was there, that Stanley
Thompson was not his father. The one woman he loved and trusted above all others, Mama Jean, could have told him. But neither she nor his mother had ever told him the truth. He wondered why. He also wondered why the nasty old woman in the back seat had suddenly resurfaced after all these years, seemingly sober and ready to straighten out all that Mama Jean had messed up. All her peers were dead. No one was left to agree or disagree with her
account of events.
"Ms. Williams, Willetta and I are on our
way to town for supplies. Do you need anything
back from the store?" he asked coldly.
"I'm going to stay here with her, Andrik.
You can go on," Willetta said.
"Are you sure, you want me to leave you
here," Andrik said and glanced at the woman in the
backseat.
Martha Williams was eighty and she had
learned over the years to understand people. So,
she kept her silence and let Andrik draw his own
conclusions. It wasn't too many secrets that actually
went to the grave anyway. People are always
thinking somebody has taken a secret to the grave
with them, but in reality somebody somewhere
knows the truth. Andrik was going to find his own
truth and it wasn't going to be from her.
"Go on with him, gal. We got plenty time to
talk. I'm just gone get on in the house and take a
nap. If I know Mama Jean, everything is still where
it always was. I'll find my way around."
Willetta and Andrik helped Martha into the
house and headed back down the road towards
Clarksdale.
CHAPTER 11
Volume 8, pg.1 (September 27, 1906):
"Willetta Thompson was born this morning. I
could hear her wailing all the way out in the
field. She gone be alright. This baby gone live
to tell her own babies about life. I just know it.
'"
#
"Can you believe this," Willetta said. She
shook her head and looked at Andrik in disbelief. "Actually, no I can't. I don't trust that
woman," he said.
"What is there not to trust? She's old. She
has to be in her eighties at least," Willetta
countered.
"Do you know what it means if she's telling
the truth? It means Stanley Thompson was not my
father. It means Mama Jean let you struggle alone
on your own in Atlanta, Georgia all the while
knowing that you had a grandmother who could
take care of you. It means that sweet Mama Jean
was either evil or deranged."
Andrik spoke quietly and deliberately. He
was making every attempt to maintain control. He
felt as if he had been slammed against a brick wall.
Everything in his life that had never made any sense
was beginning to make sense and he wasn't sure if
he liked it. His thoughts churned quickly from one
what-if to another.
"Uh, Andrik. There is something about my
stay in Atlanta, Georgia that I left out," Willetta said
quietly.
Andrik turned his head slowly in her
direction. He felt from the beginning that there was
a ring of untruth to her story. "What was that," he
asked.
"I didn't find that family. I wasn't that
smart. The family actually found me. I always felt
they were reporting things back to Mama Jean, but I
didn't care as long as I never had to set foot in
Mississippi again."
"Well, who were they, Willetta? It seems
there are a lot of secrets and unsolved mysteries
surrounding Mama Jean and I don't like secrets." Willetta looked out the window and watched
the fields of wheat zoom past. She gave particular
interest to the brown dirt between the rows of
wheat. As the car sped along, the dirt between each
row would open up and then quickly fade into the
grass. She tried counting them, but soon realized it
was an impossible task. She tried again and again
to catch the momentum of the passing rows, but
failed.
Finally Willetta said, "I don't like secrets
either, but I wonder if they are sometimes
necessary."
"Now what is that supposed to mean,"
Andrik asked.
Willetta shrugged and continued to look out
the window. She was thinking about all the work
Andrik had done to the beautiful house on
Thompson Estates. She secretly wondered if he
was concerned over his inheritance. At the same
time her heart ached at the thought that Mama Jean
had allowed her to live the life of an orphan when
all along she had a grandmother and an inheritance.
If Stanley Thompson was her father, everything he
left behind belonged to her. Willetta's hands curled
into fists as a new determination rose within her
heart.
# Willetta felt the rise of the car as they left
the dirt road and finally found Intestate Sixty-One.
She and Andrik both had slid into their own
ruminations and by the rigid set of Andrik's jaw, it
was
obvious his thoughts were angry.
"Andrik, the truth is always eventually a
good thing. Don’t worry. Everything will be fine,"
she said in an effort to sooth him.
"You just said a few minutes ago that secrets
might sometimes be necessary. It's clear your mind
isn't quite made up about anything. So, for right
now could you just keep your thoughts to yourself,"
he said meanly.
"Just what are you so angry about? Is it the
fact that the house just might be mine," she said. The car accelerated as Andrik pressed his
foot down further on the gas. "Only an idiot
wouldn't be concerned. I've put my sweat and blood
into that house and land," he grumbled.
Willetta's eyes inadvertently went to his
hands. They gripped the steering wheel and the
strength they held was clear to the naked eye. The
dark skin of his arms curved and dipped with the
shapeliness of hewn muscles. He was a strong man,
but Willetta was no longer sure if he was as strong
as he looked. He was hurting and she had a feeling
that the hurting began way before Ms. Martha
Thompson had shown up with her revelations. #
Willetta's sole purchase from Wal-Mart was
a pair of reading glasses. She would begin reading
the journals as soon as she could sneak a few out of
the ground. The determination to find out the
complete truth was now a burning fire within her. It
was stronger than her desire for Thompson Estates or any material thing. She just wanted the truth and
she knew she would find it in the journals. "Did you get everything you need," Andrik
asked. His eyes briefly scanned the small plastic
bag she held in her hand.
"Oh, yes. I brought practically everything I
own with me. So, I don't need any toiletries or
anything. Let's go," Willetta said. She was anxious
to get back to Martha and find out all she could
about her family.
Andrik's feet dragged. He was thoroughly
depressed. Everything was obscure now. The only
thing he knew for a certainty was that Anita
Thomas had been his mother. He also knew that
Stanley Thomas had never loved him and probably
resented his very existence. Something had gone
very wrong in Stanley and his mother's life. He had
always known they had never loved each other.
They had separate bedrooms from as far back as he
could remember. Why were they even together?
Had his whole life been a lie?
Andrik jumped when he felt Willetta's hand
slide over his as he pushed the basket of supplies.
Her hand was warm and soft. The warmth of it
seemed to spread up his arm. He gently squeezed
her hand and kept walking through the parking lot.
He could not look into her deep dark eyes. The
sympathy he was sure to see there would undo him.
She and he shared the same plight for sure, but she
was the strong one. She seemed anxious to get the
truth and put it behind her. He only felt a morbid
fear teetering steadily into sheer terror.
CHAPTER 12
Volume 11, pg.1 (June 1910): "Etta
ain't never satisfied with nothing. Willetta has
filled my heart, but not her momma's. She
want another baby. She done asked that fast
gal over the bridge for her baby when its born.
She say a twelve-year-old ain't got no business
with a baby."
#
"I am never going to be your enemy,
Andrik. As far as I'm concerned, we are both
victims. We're smart enough to work this out,"
Willetta said as soon as they got settled back into
the car.
Andrik didn't say anything. He just nodded.
They were both victims. He realized the truth in
that. It was odd how earlier in the day he had held
the upper hand. The past was his, the family was
his, and the house was his. Now it seemed that it all
belonged to Willetta. He wasn't sure exactly where
that left him and he had no idea how he could
refrain from hating the person who walked away
with his heritage, even if it was Willetta.
"Willetta, how do we know we can believe
Martha Thompson," he asked desperately. "We have to listen to her first. We will let
her talk, Andrik. You'll know if she's lying. But we
have to listen and be kind to her or else we may lose
our one chance to know the truth. Don't forget you
have to find out who your real father is. She has to
know," Willetta said.
"She's so old. She'll probably die like Mama
Jean did before we can find out anything," he
mumbled.
"Are you always so negative? Please stop it.
I don't like it and it makes you look bad," she spit
out.
Andrik straightened his shoulders and sat
up. He really had slipped back into his dark days of
brooding. One shocker had shattered his new
image. Professor Chaston would be disappointed to
see him now.
"Positive thinking gets positive results," he
whispered.
"What did you say," Willetta asked. "I said positive thinking gets positive results.
You're right, Willetta. I need to get a better attitude
about this situation. I'm sorry. So, where do we
begin," he asked.
"First of all, Martha is coming to live in the
house with us. She can't stay in Mama Jean's shack,
because I refuse to stay there with her. So, she
comes with us," Willetta said firmly.
Andrik frowned distastefully at the idea. He
had no wish to be under the same roof with Martha
Thompson. But under the circumstances, he might
be the guest instead of the host. So, he nodded in
agreement.
"Secondly," Willetta continued, "Mama Jean
suggested before she died that you and I should get
married. I think we should try to appear as loverlike as possible in front of Martha. Something
Martha said makes me believe she would not be too
happy about it and since we are not brother and
sister, I want to find out why."
Andrik cringed at the thought of playing
lover to Willetta. He was attracted to her and any
acting would be on her part, not his. He was bound
more than likely to play the fool instead of the
lover.
"I'll let you take the lead in that department,"
he said uncomfortably.
"What, and make myself look like a hussy?
No way. You have to take the lead and let me
follow along," Willetta said.
"I hope you know what you're asking for. I
can lay it on pretty thick. Do you want us to be
budding lovers or old lovers," Andrik asked huskily. Willetta once again found herself staring at
Andrik's physique. His flat stomach curved into a C
at his waist and she could almost see his pectorals
pressing against the cotton shirt he wore. Long legs
thick with muscle curved along the cushion of the
car seat and Willetta had a vision of herself in his
lap. The pulse in h
er neck leapt and she looked
away.
"Budding lovers would be better. Thank you
for asking," she said sarcastically.
"No problem, Lettie," he said.
Willetta laughed, "Am I Lettie now?" "Yes. Ever since Mama Jean told me about
you, in my mind I have called you Lettie," he
confessed.
Willetta decided she liked it and told him so.
A sense of unity and calmness settled over them as
they rode in silence. Andrik was surprised at how
expertly Lettie had settled his fears and turned his
dread into anticipation and excitement. Willetta felt
a sense of belonging and took comfort in the fact
that she and Andrik's pasts were intertwined. He
was a good person and she felt no compulsion to
disentangle them. She only wanted clarity of the
twists and turns. She was sure with the help of
Martha and the journals that would be a cinch. #
"I ain't going to that house. That's the devil's
house," Martha said stubbornly.
Andrik stared at the old woman in disbelief.
Who was she calling the devil? He looked at
Willetta and realized she was trying very hard to
keep from laughing.
"Who's the devil Ms. Martha," Willetta
asked.
Martha clamped her lips shut and refused to
answer. "I just ain't going and I don't want to hear
anything else about it." She sat back down on the
black plastic couch in Mama Jean's living room and
kicked her house shoes off. She lifted her stiff legs
onto the couch and settled back against the pillows. Willetta opened her mouth to speak, but
Andrik spoke first. "Lettie is staying with me. I
don't want her down here in this shack. So, if you
stay here, you'll be by yourself, because Lettie stays
with me." He grabbed Willetta's hand and held it
firmly in his.
Martha slowly sat up and placed her feet on
the floor. Her eyes widened on Andrik and
Willetta's clasped hands and she said, "Young man,
just who the blazes is Lettie."
Now Andrik was having trouble holding in
his laughter. He looked down at Willetta and said,
"She is. This beautiful woman beside me is Lettie."
He let his eyes roam lingeringly over Willetta's face
for good measure. Willetta stared back
unblinkingly into his eyes.
Martha got up and slid into her walking
shoes. She shuffled over to her walker and stuffed
her house shoes into the bag hanging from it. "Let's
go. Y'all ain't married and ain't got no business in
Journals of the Secret Keeper Page 5