by ericparton
(ooooooooo)
All they were getting from me would be a stoney face. Mother didn’t want attitude. Too bad.
A’ja and i chose the chair farthest away from them.
Venerable opened, expressing her surprise that i would think they would force me to do anything.
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(right)
(tell it to someone who would believe anything that would come from their lying selves)
“You’ve known me all your life, Gregg. We may be guilty of discretion but we didn’t want to burden you with our lives. You deserved to grow up with as normal a life as possible.”
i studied the ceiling above her head. Who knew a Á at surface could be très intriguing? And besides, never underestimate the value of silence.
(mother’s trick)
Father cleared his throat. Talk about phlegm. He sounded like he needed to hock a big one.
i shrugged.
Intrepid as ever, Mother took hold of the conversation. “This is ridiculous.
Gregg, get a grip and give us your attention.”
Ahhh, her I-brought-you-into-this-world-and-I-can-take-you-out voice.
i slumped deeper into the chair. A’ja hopped to the arm and began to wash her face like she felt bored or something.
“Do you know who we see when we look at you?”
(nope)
(didn’t feel like engaging)
She looked at Father who looked at Venerable who walked over to where i sat, knelt down, and took my hands in hers.
(was i supposed to break because of her gesture?)
“Child.”
i shrank, all jumbly inside.
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“Look at me, please.”
“i am not a child.”
“Then don’t act like one. Show me the person you are.”
“What if i don’t know who that is?”
She laughed.
“You mean to tell me you came away from these last few months with no self-awareness?”
(ok)
(good point)
i felt . . .
i felt . . .
Stretched.
Yet.
Somewhat whole but not?
(i mean, i was not as fragile anymore)
“What if the person i am doesn’t feel courageous or like adventures?”
“All three of us love you. Look at me.”
i cracked. Raised my head a little and glared.
“Ha. Knew you could do it. Didn’t I tell you, Sallie? Your girl’s got gumption.”
(ok)
(Vennie believed in me)
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I peeked at my parents. Both of them grinned at me.
(ok)
(all three of them believed in me)
Dad brought a chair over for Vennie.
She continued. “You can do anything you want, god girl. Your life. Your choices.”
“But . . .”
“But, nothing. I believe no matter how dark life gets, we hold the power to recreate ourselves. Haven’t you sensed yourself changing and growing? The little girl who needed a little boy to hide from the rest of the world lived long ago. Who sits in front of me?”
“Ummm.”
“Well, I’m not going to deÀ ne you for you. Own yourself if you want my respect.”
(ack)
i did.
i did want her respect.
“And, don’t come up with something you think will please me. Say what you mean and mean what you say.”
“Can i take a moment?”
“Take a couple of days. But, I expect an answer.”
“i am the daughter of Noah and Sallie Davis. Unless, of course, those aren’t their real names.”
Another throat-clearing from Dad.
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“Whatever their names, you are not deÀ ned by your relationships.”
“Aha! You admit to using false names! All the Davis stuff is a lie!”
“Not germane. Focus on the question. Who are you?”
“But, none of you are who you say you are.”
(didn’t she understand how outrageous this was?)
She chuckled. “Figured that one out, did you?”
“Then, who are you Per Se?”
“You know nothing about Per Se. Quit stalling.
“Promise you’ll tell me?”
“Sure. If you accept our invitation.”
“That’s not fair!”
“Gregg, I get the impression you think of yourself with a small “i.” It’s time to À ll out capital “I’s” with your whole being.”
(but, i liked the small i)
Who are you?”
“i, i mean, I am . . .”
“Yes?”
“Strong.”
“Now you’re getting there.”
“Resilient.”
“Keep going.”
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“Smart.”
“Smartest girl I ever met. Now show your smarts and give me a bigger list.”
“Clever. Good with words. An introvert. Creative. DeÀ ant.”
“Got that right.”
“Loving. Kind. I do let my anger get out of control at times.”
“Noticed.”
“Sorry.”
“Never apologize for being yourself.”
“Right. Not sorry. I am Me. Got it.”
Vennie looked at Mom, who nodded.
“We want to offer you the chance to learn more about yourself.”
“Is this where I learn about the Code?”
“Not that easy.”
“Of course.”
“We can tell you some, but you must discover the Code for yourself.”
“Lovely.”
“If that’s what you want to do.”
“The choice.”
“Yes. Every person must decide for themselves what kind of life they want.”
“Yeah.”
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“No wrong choices exist. You set your feet in a direction that makes the most sense to you and take the consequences.”
“If I don’t want to participate in the Code — ”
“Then you don’t. Of course, you’ll never know the secret either.”
“Why not?”
“Why should you know hidden things on paths you decide not to pursue?
No one gets to be omniscient.”
“But, I won’t get to be close to you if I decide not to do it. The Code.”
(notice the big I’s)
“Ha. You won’t lose us. We’re your family. We’ll love and support you no matter what you decide.”
“And, I’m supposed to make a decision based on . . . ?”
“Having observed us all these years.”
“Huh?”
“What do you know about us?”
“You’re strong, powerful, vibrant.”
“Choose The Code. Find yourself by taking life’s challenges for what they are — not threats to your existence but rather enriching experiences.”
“You must be kidding.”
(nope)
(she didn’t look like she was)
(kidding)
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“If I say yes then what happens?”
“Then you go to GraceÀ eld this summer for your initiation.”
“What happens at GraceÀ eld?”
“What doesn’t happen at GraceÀ eld?”
“Wait. Do you have magical powers or something?”
They laughed.
“Wouldn’t call it magic Per Se.”
“Per Se? Why don’t you say what you mean?”
“I am being as clear as I can. The one way you can discover the Code is at GraceÀ
eld.”
“But, that’s where all our family’s slavery stuff happened. Wait. What does this have to do with slavery? Does this mean all the family history is true?”
“SpeciÀ c history holds no pertinence in this discussion. But, everything has everything to do with slavery of one form or another. You know this, Gregg.”
“I do?”
“Think. Your privileges. The generations of education and leadership positions your family, real or not, has enjoyed. Even the ability to be discreet can be expensive. All these resources were derived from your ancestors’
complicity in slavery.”
“Mom’s money.”
“Yes, and her willingness to use it to defend her family. Very few people in this world have the ability to do that. What must it be like for a parent to know they cannot protect their children?”
“What do you mean?”
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“Can you imagine what your parents felt when they realized that, despite their advantages, they could not prevent other people from hurting you?
They thought they had given you a normal life. But here’s the thing. In normal life, people get hurt. People become enslaved to their feelings. Most do not have the ability to make the system work for their children’s beneÀ t in such a spectacular way.”
“I get that. I do.”
“Then, maybe you could express gratitude to them rather than behaving like they’ve destroyed your life?”
(gulp)
I stared at my parents and tried settling into this new perspective.
They didn’t look like they expected anything. Kinda just sat there, loving me.
I rushed to them, sobbing. They caught me in an embrace and murmured they loved me, that they would do anything for me.
“I’m sorry for being a stupid brat.”
Mom answered, “First of all, you’re not stupid.”
Dad added, “The brat thing, though.”
“Noah.”
“Yes, dear. Not a brat.”
Vennie joined us as we laughed.
Felt good.
Felt right.
They looked puzzled when I pulled away, all serious like.
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“What’s wrong?” Dad asked.
“Feeling overwhelmed. Could we put the Code thing on hold?”
“Of course,” Vennie said. “I would be disappointed if you didn’t. Big decisions require space. Although, Gregg, sometimes we must act quickly, trusting ourselves to make the right choice.”
“How long do I have?”
“Why don’t we talk again in a couple of weeks? Let me emphasize this reprieve is yours because of the signiÀ cant commitment involved with The Code.”
(ugh)
(the stress)
“Thanks.”
A quick hug to all and an escape, A’ja on my heels.
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CHAPTER SIX
per se
Caro ambushed me in the foyer with a thousand questions.
(of course)
“That took forever, Gregg. What did they want? Did you get grounded?
Any more on the Code thing?”
“Sorry, kiddo. Gotta process before sharing.”
“That’s not fair! You get to know everything.”
“Yeah. Ask yourself. Do you want to conquer monsters or to enjoy pleasant teenage years, full of parties, dances, and friends who care? You’re different from me, Caro. You’re fun and outgoing. Shadows and darkness aren’t your fate.”
“I’m a silly girl who can’t be trusted with the truth.”
“You’re a special girl who brings light into a complicated universe. I’m jealous of you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re everything I wish I could be.”
“No. Way.”
“You’re fearless. Nothing gets in your way because you see possibilities. I’m full of distrust and doubts. You do not want to be me.”
“You’re making me crazy. I’m gonna talk to Mom and Dad.”
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“Why don’t you do that?”
“Bet I can make them tell me.”
“Bet they’ll tell you what they want you to hear.”
She sighed.
“You’re right. It’s hopeless.”
“Aren’t you glad?”
“You’re so frustrating.”
“I know. Listen, I’d hang out with you but I want to sulk in my room.”
“Not me! Lucy called. We’re going to the mall.”
“Like I said.”
“There’s nothing wrong with shopping.”
After giving her a big hug, I picked up A’ja and started up the stairs.
“Be sure to buy something pink.”
She giggled. “No problem there.”
“Love ya, Caro.”
“Love you, Gregg.”
Things got crazy for me in the following weeks but not because of any angst.
Wonder how I lived, freed from school?
And the pleasant company of peers?
And with way-too-present adults?
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Ha.
AP’s, SAT’s took some energy.
And, my parents took me on À eld trips. Mom Á ew me to Paris to see mu-seums, to Rome for pasta. Dad and I climbed Machu Picchu, the ancient Incan ruins, all 8,000 feet high, in Peru. He said he wanted to give me a different perspective on life. How civilizations come and go. Think he also wanted to get me outdoors and active.
Gotta love Noah Davis.
Rigorous body.
Rigorous mind.
(yeah)
(and me)
(the super-À t, test-taking, globe-trotter)
Neither of them said a word about the Code. If I brought it up they said to not worry, the answer would come to me. Vennie took the same position.
My brain buzzed.
Per Se. Per Se. The intrinsic meaning of something. Of itself, for itself, by itself. Shall not perish from this earth.
No.
That was the Gettysburg Address.
Per Se.
The essence.
Of what?
The essence of me.
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The essential me, per se.
Circular thoughts.
Do we always end up where we began, expanded versions of our original selves?
My relationship with Jack gave me invisibility, a safe place from high school crap. His desertion exposed me to extreme visibility, a dark place. My parents provided legal and emotional relief but enlightenment came from within me. I did the hard work to release myself from, as Vennie called it, the enslavement of my heart and mind.
Because GraceÀ eld could be my future, I did some research to better understand the all-too-real suffering of Africans subjected to slavery in America.
(our country’s past holds more pain than I imagined and slavery continues to haunt America)
(please understand, I wrote this the week a deranged white guy massacred nine black people inside Emmanuel A.M.E. Church here in South Carolina) (the killer was from Columbia, my home town)
(what do I do with that???)
(try to understand?)
(to understand the impossible?)
(I am furious that the confederate Á ag, a symbol of slavery and white supremacy, Á ew at the State House during my lifetime) (the confederate Á ag and all symbols glorifying slavery must be removed) (I claim my power in this situation by telling you the facts, hoping you’ll help me make this right by demanding change)
U.S. law treated African slaves as beasts without the capacity to feel; every human right denied them. They could not choose their own names, where they would live, or how they would live. They did not even
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to raise their children how they wanted. Indeed, families could be broken up and individual members sold to plantations in other states. Exceptions could be granted by owners. But notice the power lay with the owners.
Slaves had no legal agency, meaning they could not represent themselves.
I hoped my ancestors were humane in how they treated their slaves. But how could anyone be humane when the basic tenet of the system was advantage predicated on the debasement of others? All of this country’s major institutions — North, South, East and West — beneÀ ted from this atrocious crime against humanity. The foundation of America.
(why aren’t we screaming about this?)
I tried but could not imagine being degraded like a slave with no hope of relief. After all, I cracked under the most temporary abuse situations.
How could people survive hopelessness?
In the end, what was hope?
A trust that things would get better in the future?
Expectation?
Desire?
Was knowing your life held meaning critical to hope?
Could be.
If true, I needed to come up with a meaning for my life because the pits of despair no longer appealed to me.
(yeah)
(philosophy)
(I excel at it)
Anyway.
Don’t want to leave you with my rambling.
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Therefore.
(ta-da!)
An inspiral summation:
I found freedom from my daily struggle with despair by a conscious decision to get up and out of the icky goo. Calming myself by writing or running made it possible to clarify my options and weigh potential consequences. Because, I could breathe once I perceived I was not trapped.
Dum Spiro Spero, While I Breathe, I Hope. South Carolina’s motto.
(ironic, right?)
(wait, there’s more)
The responsibility belonged to me to do whatever it took to be whole and healthy.
Per Se.
If that meant choosing to live an invisible life like Mom and Vennie, À ne.
Or.
Maybe I should expose my beliefs through the weirdness that is social media. Yet speaking out would mean becoming visible and opening myself to more attacks.
I suspected the Code had something to do with nobility of spirit. But don’t we develop our own codes, something personal to see us through this crazy-ass life?
Venerable Allston was right.
It was time.
Time for resolution.