Project Queen

by Teresa D. Patterson

“What?” Shae glared at him in annoyance. He’d been coming to check on her every day. He fussed at her about eating to build up her strength. No matter how much she resisted, saying that she wasn’t hungry or the hospital food tasted disgusting, he kept insisting that she needed nourishment. So, she ate just to shut him up.

  He’d even had the nerve to tell her that she looked a mess. He suggested that she fix herself up a bit. At first she’d been angry. She was in a hospital, not in a runway model competition. After the anger subsided, she managed to put on something other than a hospital gown.

  Even when she didn’t want to talk, he sat by her bed and asked question after question. She’d cursed him out profusely, but it hadn’t made him leave. He just kept coming back. Every day, she’d see his annoying face and groan. Now, here he stood telling her she had to leave.

  “You heard me. I said, you’re being sent home tomorrow,” he repeated.

  “But I’m not ready to go yet,” she protested.

  “LaShae Byrts, you’re fine. Your wounds are practically healed. You’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. As a matter of fact, you’ve been able to leave here weeks ago. It’s time you faced reality and stopped feeling sorry for yourself.”

  “Who the hell are you to tell me what I’m able to do?” Shae yelled. “I can’t go out there.”

  “You can,” he stated firmly.

  “You don’t understand. You ain’t the one who have to walk around looking like a-” She wanted to say “freak” but couldn’t bring herself to utter the harsh word. That’s exactly what she’d seen when she looked in the mirror.

  “Like a person that’s been cut?” he finished for her. “Dear, that mark on your face is barely noticeable. In time, it will disappear completely. If you want, I can recommend one of the best plastic surgeons in the state. But, that’s the least of your worries.” He grasped her chin in a firm grip and forced her to look at him. “Don’t be a coward. You’re afraid to go out there because you think you’ll fail. You’ve known nothing but disappointment all your life. So, disappointment is what you expect.” Shae wanted to flinch from his hurtful words, but she held his gaze, unblinking. “I know I’ve been rather hard on you. But, I won’t let you give up on yourself. I’ve seen your brothers come here every day to visit you. I’ve seen your aunt, too. They wouldn’t come if they didn’t love you. Show them that you love them, too. They are counting on you. Don’t just give up. You are not a weak person. You’ve endured too much to just succumb to obstacles now. Be the strong, beautiful, black woman that you are. Get out of this bed and embrace life. You’ve been given a second chance, you know?” He let go of her chin, but she still didn’t look away. “Think about what I’ve said, young lady.” He walked off, turned to look at her one last time, then left.

  Shae did nothing but think all day long. At five that evening she’d made up her mind. She decided not to wait until the following day. She wanted to leave as soon as possible. The doctor’s words had a profound effect on her. She and her brothers didn’t have the best life, but she could strive to make it better. In order to do that, she had to get busy living.

  She picked up the phone and called Toby. Her trip home required clothes and she needed him to bring them. Once she got out of the hospital bed, she’d be leaving for good. Aunt Beatrice had welcomed her with opened arms. Even though the law considered Shae an adult, Aunt Bea wasn’t trying to hear of her struggling or living in a hotel.

  “You come stay with me until you get on ya feet, you hear?” she’d insisted when she’d last visited. Shae was finally ready to accept her aunt’s offer.

  First, she needed to thank Dr. Michaels for pointing her in the right direction and for all of his encouragement. Never had anyone cared about her that much.

  It surprised Dr. Michaels when he looked up from his desk and saw Miss Byrts enter his office. She wore a very feminine dress and even had on heels. She looked beautiful with her short, curly hair and high cheekbones.

  “Hi,” she said, suddenly at a loss for words because she’d picked up on the appreciation in his eyes. “I just wanted to say thank you. You- you were right.”

  “Just doing my job,” he stated modestly. “Besides, I couldn’t let such a lovely lady just waste away.”

  “You’re only saying that because you’re my doctor.” She stared at her feet. “I’ll never be pretty again.”

  “Stop it,” he chided. “Come here.” He ushered her toward a mirror.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t look.” She remembered the last time she’d seen her reflection. She didn’t want to experience that horror again.

  “Come on.” He gave her a gentle push forward. She covered her eyes with her hands, not brave enough to look. “Look at yourself. I’m telling you, the scar is almost gone. When you saw yourself the first time, it wasn’t healed. The cut was still fresh and had just been stitched up. It’s healed now. I removed the stitches, and you look fine. Go ahead, take a look.” He pulled her hands away from her eyes. “See?” She held her breath and looked.

  “Oh?” She stared in surprise. It wasn’t at all what she expected. Once again, Dr. Michaels was right. The scar was no bigger than half an inch, resembling a scratch.

  “Well?” he asked. “What do you have to say? I’m the one who stitched you up. Some pretty good handiwork, huh?”

  “It’s- it’s not as bad as I thought,” she finally said. “Thank you.” Grateful tears fell from her eyes. She wasn’t ugly and scarred for life, as she’d assumed. Once she started, she couldn’t seem to stop the flow. “I’m s-sorry,” she sobbed, covering her face in embarrassment. “I can’t stop cry-”

  “It’s alright,” he soothed. “Just let it all out. It’s okay.” He held her in his arms, patting her on the back. “Everything will be just fine. You’re over the hump.”

  When she stopped crying, Dr. Michaels went over to his desk and grabbed a box of Kleenex. “Here,” he offered.

  “Thank you.” She took a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. Somewhat composed, she turned to him. “I didn’t mean to break down like that.”

  “It’s okay.” He smiled. “There’s no need to apologize.”

  “It’s just that everything came back to me all at once,” she explained.

  “I understand,” he said quietly and somehow she felt that he really did. On an impulse, she threw her arms around his neck and gave him a hug.

  “Thank you for everything, Dr. Michaels. I couldn’t leave without telling you that.” She smiled. It was the first real smile he’d seen from her, and it brightened the whole room. “Bye.”

  “Good-bye, Miss Byrts. Take care of yourself and those brothers of yours.”

  He watched her walk away, thinking: If only I were twenty years younger. He shook his head and picked up his cup of coffee. He felt confident that she’d do just fine. After all, she was a fighter and a survivor.

  Shae had been living with her aunt for a week when she decided it was time to move. With the twins, as well as her four cousins, Aunt Beatrice’s house was filled to capacity. They had no privacy and not a moment of silence. Shae felt that at eighteen, she needed to depend on herself. Her aunt had already done so much, taking in Chris and Charles so that the family wouldn’t be separated. She had to make it on her own. She wanted to prove that she could take care of her brothers so she could gain custody of them. She wouldn’t be happy until they were all under the same roof again, and that included Toby.

  They finished eating the big breakfast that Aunt Beatrice cooked. Shae cleared the dishes off the table. “Charles and Chris are you ready to go to the bus stop?” she asked. Both boys nodded enthusiastically, and Shae smiled. They’d eaten pancakes with log cabin syrup and had syrupy mustaches. “Well, let me get a wash cloth to clean ya sticky faces.”

  After Shae cleaned their hands and faces, they headed off. The bus stop was only a block away. Charles skipped along, and Chris stopped to pick up rocks. It made her happy to see them behave
like six year old boys. She knew they hadn’t had a good life up until that point, but now everything had changed. She couldn’t imagine the extent of emotional damage that their mother’s abuse had caused. She hoped that in time, they would be able to forget.

  She watched as Chris and Charles got safely on the school bus. They waved at her until the bus turned the corner, and she could no longer see them. She went back to Aunt Bea’s and settled down at the kitchen table with the classified ads in front of her. She looked under the “apartments for rent” section and saw one located in a decent area of the neighborhood.

  “Shae, I’m off to work,” her aunt called, heading for the front door.

  “Aunt Bea?” Her aunt stopped, came back and peered into the kitchen.

  “Yes child?”

  “Can I borrow your car? I see an apartment for rent that I want to check out.”

  Her aunt gave her a tired but sweet smile. She knew that her niece was struggling to deal with so much at one time. She was glad to help with whatever she could. Someone so young shouldn’t have to go through such hard times. To handle so many problems took the patience of Job. She prayed that Shae would be able to get through the trials and tribulations. She knew people who were supposedly deeply rooted in Christ who gave up when put through less. She’d always believed: whatever didn’t kill you, made you stronger. Shae would come out of this on top and become a better person than before. God had His reasons.

  “Come on and drop me off,” she said, holding out the keys to her niece.

  Shae loved Aunt Beatrice. She really was a kind woman, nothing at all like her sister, Bertha. The fact that they were identical twins was almost unimaginable.

  She grabbed the classified section, got up from the table, and took the keys that her aunt extended.

  As they drove toward their destination, Aunt Beatrice’s mind drifted. She felt a deep sadness that her twin sister had turned out to be such a bad seed. She knew Bertha began drinking heavily and that she was emotionally disturbed. She just hadn’t known how deeply disturbed she was. Something had changed inside her after Jimmy left.

  She couldn’t help but wonder if there was something she could have done to prevent anything that had happened. If only she had known. But, she’d chosen not to know.

  Beatrice had stopped visiting Bertha many years before. She hadn’t agreed with the way she disciplined her children, and one day she’d voiced her disapproval. She’d never forget that day. It happened when she found out Shae’s arm had been broken. She confronted Bertha after seeing her niece’s cast.

  “What that baby do to make you hurt her like that?” Beatrice demanded to know.

  “She called the ambulance and now everybody knows my business. You know I don’t like airin’ our dirty laundry. She best be keepin’ her mouth closed ‘bout things that happen around here.”

  “What was she supposed to do, just let her sister bleed to death, Bert? What you did to both of them children is just plain wrong. How can you look at ya self in the mirror?”

  “I done told you to mind ya own damn business ‘bout how I raise my children.” Bertha’s voiced escalated. The two sisters eyed each other, neither ready to back down from a confrontation.

  “Don’t you raise ya voice at me.” Beatrice who was usually calm and mild mannered got fed up. It seemed there was no way to reason with her sister. Now she was hot. “Somebody need to take ‘em away from you. You don’t deserve to have children that you gone beat and abuse every day. You use them children as ya punching bag. It ain’t their fault Jimmy B left you. Stop treating ‘em like it is.”

  “Now, Bea, you ‘bout to make me tell you something I’ll regret. You buttin’ in where it don’t concern you. Jimmy B ain’t got nothing to do with this conversation.”

  “Jimmy B got everything to do with it. You been like this ever since he left you. You started drinking like a camel, hanging in juke joints and whipping on them kids. You wasn’t like that before and you know I know.”

  “Bea, what I do is my own damn business. Don’t make me have to tell you again. If you don’t like the way I do things, then you don’t have to come ‘round here,” Bertha yelled at the top of her lungs.

  “That’s just fine with me,” Beatrice yelled back, glaring at her twin. She got up and placed her hands on her hips. Beatrice wasn’t a small woman by far. Even though she wasn’t as heavy as her sister, she carried a few extra pounds. Her voice had an edge to it when she spoke. “If I hear ‘bout you hurting them kids again, I might catch a charge for stomping a knot on ya ass,” she warned. “Mama and Papa didn’t raise you to be like this. You was raised in the church, and you know better. The devil done got in you. You need Jesus.”

  Bertha’s face turned red and she jumped up from the kitchen table, overturning the chair in the process. She kicked it to the side and pointed toward the door.

  “You, Jesus, and every damn body else better get the fuck out my house.”

  “Calm down, Bertha. Let’s talk about this.”

  “Calm down my ass.” She bent to pick up the overturned chair and raised it in the air. “I said get the fuck out of here and I mean it,” she yelled.

  “Put that chair down. I’m leaving. You have disrespected me for the last time,” Beatrice said, giving her sister a pitying look.

  “Don’t let the doorknob hit you where the good Lord split you,” Bertha insulted, slamming the door behind her.

  Bertha could be so unreasonable, stubborn and mean-spirited. Beatrice left in anger, and she hadn’t returned since.

  No, Beatrice hadn’t been able to stand her sister for quite a few years now. She’d thought about turning her over to Protective Services, but in the black community that would have been frowned upon. You just don’t do that to your own blood. Instead, she’d done whatever she could to help from a distance. Now, she just wished she’d done more. Her lack of involvement had probably attributed to Ma Violet’s death. For that, she’d always feel regret. It would have to be faced and dealt with on Judgment Day.

  Raising four children wasn’t an easy task. Her husband died in a freak accident five years before. He’d been killed on the job when a crane fell on him. The money that she’d received from his life insurance policy sustained them to a certain extent.

  Beatrice wasn’t one to sit around and wait for a government check. As a matter of fact, she worked at Social Services and had for fifteen years. The little money she got from her job and her husband’s check each month kept their heads above water. The monthly bills seemed overwhelming, and she was determined to put her oldest daughter through college.

  Brenda had recently graduated high school and planned to attend FAMU the following semester. Even though she’d received an academic scholarship, there still was tuition and books as well as personal expenses that required money. Plus, she needed a car to get around. Beatrice was looking into buying her a used one. Along with a car came insurance payments. Always some other expense that had her finances stretched to the limit.

  Taking in two more children put a strain on her budget. But Chris and Charles deserved a good life. Since she’d failed them before, she wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. No way would she let them live in a foster home. She felt she owed them that. After all, they were her flesh and blood and she loved them.

  Toby was a different story. She loved her nephew, but as long as he traveled on the wrong path, he had to travel it alone. When he stopped dealing drugs, her doors would be opened to him as well.

  Shae pulled up in front of the building where Beatrice worked.

  “Don’t worry about picking me up, baby,” Aunt Bea told her. “I’ll catch a ride with Ida or SueElla.”

  “Are you sure, Aunt Bea?”

  “Yeah, baby. You just take ya time. If that one apartment don’t work out, don’t give up. If it’s God’s will, it’s already done.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Bea.”

  Shae pulled off, thinking that her aunt was an angel. Aunt Bea had alway
s been the one to take up for them back in the day. She had often wished that Aunt Bea had been their mother instead. Shae wasn’t mad at her aunt for not coming around because she knew her mama had run her off. She’d been hiding behind the couch, listening to their conversation the last time Aunt Bea stopped by. Shae had cried herself to sleep thinking that it was her fault they wouldn’t see Aunt Bea anymore.

  Fate had a way of turning things around. Now, they all lived with Aunt Beatrice, except for Toby. He’d stopped by Aunt Bea’s house wearing a bunch of expensive jewelry and a removable gold grill. Aunt Bea’s disappointment was evident by her deep frown. Shae had tried once again to talk him out of selling drugs, but had been unsuccessful. He shrugged her off saying he had to do what he had to do.

  Aunt Bea remained adamant in her decision about Toby not living in the home. If Toby wanted to deal drugs, he had to sleep somewhere else. She didn’t condone it and wouldn’t have it in her home. Shae couldn’t fault her for that decision.

  She saw Toby from time to time when he stopped by. The last time she’d seen him, he looked so thin and tired. She’d asked him where he’d been staying.

  “I’m at Raymond’s place for now,” he told her. Even though she was happy that he wasn’t living on the streets, the location didn’t impress her. Raymond’s place was a known drug trap. Toby couldn’t remain there for too long. The cops would probably raid it sooner or later. She had to find a place so that she could help her brother and possibly save his life.

  * * *

  Toby was at Raymond’s house nodding off in a broken down Lazy Boy chair. Everybody and their mama lived at Raymond’s house, it seemed. People came and went like it was the 24-hour Wal-Mart. Toby stayed up most nights because the crack heads never slept. Besides, there wasn’t anywhere to sleep at Raymond’s. He’d be damned if he’d squeeze in the bed with four other grown ass Negroes. The couch, if you could call it that, was out of the question. It had all types of stains, and it reeked of urine and who knows what else. Plus, the house was infested with roaches. One night he’d been nodding in the chair and one of them mugs had crawled in his ear. He had to find somewhere else to crash before he fell out from exhaustion.