by ericparton
(groan)
(why me?)
49
GREGG DAVIS
I couldn’t keep up with him in the beginning but the exercise made me feel better about, well, everything. During one of those runs, he mentioned my aforementioned godmother would be coming to visit.
How cool.
Aunt Vennie’s arrival brought an alternate dimension to my healing process.
Along with a plunge into the mysteries of GraceÀ eld, once the ancestral home of my mother’s family in the South Carolina LowCountry. And, in one of those only-in-the-South connections, my godmother’s people once worked the rice À elds there. As slaves. Talk about a contrast in life circumstances.
Welcome to the deeply-rutted road of slavery in America. This sounds ponderous, no doubt. Please drink the dark, murky, critter-infested swamp water of GraceÀ eld with me anyway and be opened.
GraceÀ eld.
Genesis of all evil.
Hope for all good.
Back to the time thing. For me, my life began at 12 noon on Saturday 26
April i swear, the grandfather clock in the library began chiming as Venerable Allston walked into our house. The effect proved transformative.
my heart found an easier beat. We all moved within two feet of her and stopped for her greeting. She shimmered with grace. Her gorgeous skin, black with the soft sheen of pewter.
“Sallie, Noah, Caro, and Gregg,” her voice sang our names in a sweet Gullah tone. “Let us enjoy this moment together while we can.”
Mom welcomed her. “Thank you for coming, Vennie.”
I stared at them, each elegant in their own way. Mom, subtle in her preferred earth-toned knits, and her childhood friend, tall and wiry yet powerful, in a vibrant robe woven in African colors.
“It’s time, Sallie.”
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(enigmatic as ever)
“Yes.”
“Time for what?” Had to ask. Suspected Aunt Vennie’s visit involved me.
(given the timing and everything)
No one provided enlightenment.
Until.
The advice began Á owing later in the afternoon.
“I must say, Jack’s behavior disappointed me.” my godmother seemed to be waiting for me when i wandered out to the wrap-around porch. She knew him from previous visits. “Are you glad your father arranged the confrontation?”
i settled into the rocking chair next to her.
“No. Yes. Sordid details. Mom dropping the charade of normalcy. The Fontaine angle still rocks me. But, my therapist says, a good life lesson. Maybe.
Still can’t believe Jack dumped me. We were supposed to be together forever.”
“An illusion,” she offered.
“Yeah.”
“My heart was broken once.”
“Like anyone would dare,” i cracked, enjoying her company.
“Wouldn’t happen now.”
“Why? What’s the secret?”
“Accepting the world as it is rather than as you want it to be.” The rocking chairs creaked as she paused to enjoy the Carolina spring. “It’s all the same.
You are loved. You are unloved. In the end, you have to be true to who 52
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you are. Men are peripheral. Pleasant to be sure. Needed for procreation and a balance in perspective. But who you are as a woman is separate from whether or not a man loves you.”
Never knew the true deÀ nition of profound before. Never looked at life from this perspective. Men, a luxury? An enhancement to life rather than central to existence?
“My point, Gregg,” she explained, “is men come and go. You get to choose which ones matter, who shares your nest and when. Remember. You choose.”
Stunning.
Not swept away by love unless we choose to go there? We get to pick who we bring close? That concept deserves consideration by all women.
Vennie’s assertion, that we rule our emotions, not the other way around.
The primordial inÀ ghting between women for the alpha male, an optional battle. I was not my relationship with Jack. I could let him go without losing me.
Revolutionary.
Aunt Vennie devolved into her wise-cracking mode over dinner. She and Mom told tales of exploits they’d never before shared. Dad didn’t seem surprised, but Caro and i sat there somewhat dumfounded. Never realized we lived in the presence of super heroes who helicopter into obscure villages in war-torn countries to rescue human rights allies.
Why all the secrecy?
Were they part of a government or private organization? A secret sect of ninja warriors or something?
Why did they decide to unveil themselves?
(yeah)
(gotta say the suspicious “it’s time” thing played with my brain) Much later, when the adults thought i was asleep, i crept halfway down the 53
GREGG DAVIS
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stairs with my soft, blue blanket and conducted some reconnaissance. The transom over the door to Dad’s library was open and i could see a bit of the room through the glass. A’ja joined me as i crouched and strained to hear the conversation.
Guess who was topic number one?
Moi.
“She was a mess, Vennie.” Dad’s voice cracked as he stated the obvious.
“And Jack’s part in the whole thing still puzzles me. I considered him a son.
But when Caro showed us that online clip of Gregg being tormented, I wanted to beat the shit out of the little asshole.”
“No doubt.”
Dad’s use of what he calls garage language surprised me.
(he considered the use of slang a lack of imagination and tended to use scientiÀ c descriptives)
Flames crackled in the À replace.
Mom paced the room. “Noah and I were glad she didn’t cut herself. Well.
Other than her hair.”
“You can thank yourselves for her restraint,” Vennie offered. “You built her strong. Why don’t you sit down, Sallie? Don’t you believe Gregg can triumph in this and all future difÀ culties in her life.?
Mom blew her off and asked, “Cappucino, anyone?”
“Make mine strong, please,” Vennie said.
“GlenÀ ddich for me.” My father reached for his bottle of single malt.
(wait)
(doesn’t Mom believe in me?)
I could hear the stream from the semi-automatic espresso machine. The 55
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aroma permeated the house. She foamed milk and poured the dark liquid into porcelain cups from the sterling silver coffee service.
When she handed the coffee to Vennie, she asked, “Do you think she’s ready?”
“In my opinion, this is the perfect moment for Gregg. She’s broken and therefore open to change.”
Mom sounded thoughtful but hesitant in her reply. “I’m having trouble reading her these days.”
“She’s that age.”
“We’ve always been open with each other.”
“Before she realized the extent of your wealth and willingness to destroy people who cross you,” Vennie noted.
“And now, the glimpse of the Code.”
(Code with a capital “C?”)
(what?)
(a code other than the golden rule thing?)
A’ja bumped her head against me. A good reminder to keep quiet on the stairs.
my father coughed, inserting himself into the conversation. “My concern is exposing her to more horror. Your plan for Gregg’s introduction to your Code could harm her.”
(stop)
(um)
(time to review)
My story began with my lovely, sweet relationship with Jack. Then, he took 56
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part in creating hideousness in my life by hooking up with Ha
yley Jane Fontaine.
The oh-too-much-fun bullying thing.
A World Wide Web violation.
The swell confrontation with Jack.
(thanks a ton, Dad)
Discovering my mother can wreak havoc with her economic power.
All that freakin’ therapy.
The arrival of Aunt Vennie and now my intended initiation into their, whatever, Code.
Which.
Might endanger my, what?
Life?
Tenuous hold on mental health?
Sense of security?
(like there’s any of that left)
A’ja inched closer as i fumed.
Don’t they realize i’m traumatized?
These people were supposed to be invested in my best interests.
Vennie, at least, sounded thoughtful as she addressed my father’s concern.
“Yes, an element of unpredictability does exist. Once she enters per se, she cannot return until she À gures out the Code.”
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“She must do this, Noah.” Mom sounded brusque.
“You know best?”
“In this, yes.”
“Look, a year ago, there would have been no question this would be the right thing — ” Dad began.
Mom leaned over and stroked his cheek. “Dear Heart, I get it. She’s your little girl. But she must À nd her own strength in order to thrive.”
Vennie said, “She will either be called or she will not. She will either accept or she will not. Either way, it’s time. Now for your decision, yes or no?”
The grandfather clock ticked.
“Yes,” my parents said in unison.
No hesitation there.
The grandfather clock tocked.
Shit.
i picked up A’ja and made for my room before anyone could decide to dump me into nuclear holocaust.
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CHAPTER FIVE
plan r
Tempting to slam my door but something inside made me want to be as clandestine as they were.
How ridiculous. Like i would be allowed to make any decisions about my future. Sorry, Gregg. You would be forced into an experience to determine if you would be called and whether you can À gure out their all empowering Code.
Bitter.
(yes, that’s the right sentiment)
Enraged.
Could they not see the bullying aspect to this? The imposition of their will over my freedom?
i should run away, i thought.
Wait a minute.
i should run away.
A’ja meowed.
Sorry A’ja.
You won’t be part of this.
i gathered up some basics into my back pack, including my accumulated allowance of $105.72, and opened my window.
Jack’s tree.
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The scent of spring.
Almost froze.
But, if that wasn’t the moment for rebellion, then i wasn’t sure what was.
Reaching for the closest limb, i steadied myself and began the descent to an uncertain future.
Where would i go?
What would be safe?
Maybe, i would À gure it out as i walked.
North, i thought. North would not be South.
(yeah)
(the logic grabbed me, too)
But which way, North?
Ummm . . .
A bus station.
Did Columbia even have one anymore?
It used to be downtown.
Didn’t they level it for a new condo building or something?
A cab didn’t feel safe.
And besides, i left my phone back in my room.
(brilliant, right?)
Great way to become another tragic statistic, Gregg.
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Did i aspire to become a prostitute? Cause, all i’d need for that would be a trek to the bar district.
No appeal there.
i’d been a bully’s toy once.
No need for a redo.
So.
What?
Ok.
This line of reasoning got me to a stop sign at the end of our block.
(total pathetic-ness)
Couldn’t even pull off running away.
i wanted to kick something.
And then i heard A’ja calling for me.
How did she À nd me?
She must have climbed down the tree.
She never gets into trees.
i bent over to pick up my kitty and buried my face into her fur. She licked my À ngers.
“Guess i’m going home, huh?”
She snuggled into my arms, a true friend.
my father, carrying the soft, blue blanket i’d left on the stairs, met us halfway back to the house.
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i sobbed as i walked into his arms.
“How did you know?”
“A’ja sat outside the front door and howled.”
“Traitor cat.”
“More like loyal to the core. Where were you going?”
“Anywhere but home.”
“Why?”
“Mom. Vennie. The Code.”
“You heard.”
“Yeah. The grand plan to turn me into them.”
“Gregg, I think you missed the context.”
i pushed away from him.
“And, you agreed!”
“We want to give you the option.”
“The option for what? Expose me to, as you said, more horror?”
“Your mother and Vennie live exceptional lives, per se.”
“And, i can’t be exceptional without doing things their way? What if i want to be a professor like you?”
“You know my life includes more than research, writing, and lecturing per se.”
“OMG! You’re in on it, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t call myself on the inside per se.”
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“You are! You vanish for weeks. You told us for conferences and stuff.”
“I didn’t lie, per se.”
“You keep using the words per se. Why?”
“I’m going to let your mother explain.”
“Does this have something to do with the Code?”
“Let’s go back to the house.”
“Seriously?”
“You’re catching a chill.”
“You’re not going to tell me.”
“Let’s get you back home.”
A’ja jumped out of my arms, walked a few feet, and looked back at me like, you coming?
I didn’t speak to him the rest of the way home.
(nope)
(if anyone deserved silence, Noah Davis did)
Wait.
OMG.
What if that wasn’t his real name?
What if we lived under cover?
No that didn’t make sense.
Mom. Her family heritage. The Davis family motto.
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But why no grandparents? Aunts and uncles? Cousins?
Duh, Gregg. How could you not notice this before?
Mom. Dad. Caro. Vennie. A couple of other stray regulars. A guy named John Henry circled through a couple of times.
i felt unmoored.
Adrift.
And.
In no mood to listen to explanations from the aforementioned adults.
(yeah)
i demonstrated my displeasure by going straight to my room with A’ja when i got home. Then i refused to join them in the morning. Caro climbed the tree to deliver some grub.
Ahhh, my little sis. Confused as me. Looking for answers.
“Gregg,” she implored. “What happened? Why did you run away
?”
“Not sure you want to know.”
“Please trust me with your secrets. You can rely on me. I love you.”
(sigh)
“They have some kind of Code and Dad keeps using ‘per se’ like it means something. He’s in on it, too.”
(didn’t mention the false identity thing)
“Code? What do you mean? How do you know this?”
“Overheard them last night. i’m to be initiated or something horrible, down at GraceÀ eld.”
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“What?”
“Think about it. Don’t you think it’s strange that we live quiet lives with no mention of what’s really going on?”
“Like the adventures Mom and Aunt Vennie told us about last night?”
“Yeah.”
“Total freak.”
“How could we have missed it? And now, it’s like i don’t have any choice but know.”
She got all huffy and began to cry.
“What?”
“Why you? Why not include me in the initiation?”
“Come on. You want my life? Really?”
“I don’t want to be left out.”
“Trust me. No doubt, your turn will come. Sixteen seems to be the magic age.”
“But, you’re . . . — you’re —”
“Damaged?
“You know I don’t think of you that way.”
“Then, what?”
“Vulnerable.”
“Well, Venerable said that will make me more open to whatever. The Code.
Per Se.”
“What are you going to do?”
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“Like i know.”
Mom knocked on the door right at that moment. i pretended not to hear.
Caro scrambled.
“Gregg, it’s time for you to hear what we have to say.”
(it’s time, it’s time, it’s time)
“i heard everything i need to know.”
“No. You didn’t. I expect you in downstairs, in the library, in ten minutes.”
(as if she deserved an answer)
“And Gregg? Leave the attitude behind.”
(like that’s going to happen)
i waited for À fteen minutes, gathered up A’ja and went to meet my fate.
(remember what i said about loving hyperbole?)
(at least i didn’t use the word sealed)
(PER. SE.)
(yeah)
No one stood or made an effort to hug me when i entered the library. The big conversation.