by Shana Burton
“Anyway, one day, my mom came home with this dude, Leroy Bennett. I’ll never forget him. He smiled too hard and always smelled like smoke and too much cologne. He introduced himself as my mom’s manager. He went on about his record label contacts and the record deals he could get for her and all the money she was going to make. My mom had stars in her eyes and swallowed up all of it. Me, I don’t think I ever believed him, not even then. I always knew he was a hustler. He just looked like he was shady.”
“What did your dad say about all of it?” asked Catt.
“I think that he was probably feeling like I was, but he loved my mom. He loved her. He would’ve done pretty much anything to see her happy. He knew a career in music was her dream, so he went along with it.
“Anyway, a few months go by, and my mom was spending less time at home and more and more time with Leroy. He had her performing at different li’l clubs out in the sticks. It was always in juke joints that nobody ever heard of. She even quit her full-time job so that she could be available for him. Then she started being gone for days and weeks at a time with this man. I remember asking my dad when was she going to come home, and he would always say, ‘Oh, she’ll be here real soon. You know that she misses us and can’t wait to be home again.’ To this day, I don’t know if he was just trying to protect me or trying to convince himself.”
Catt hugged her pillow. “What was your relationship with your mom like at this point?”
“A little strained, I guess, since I didn’t get to spend that much time with her. But when we were together, it was okay. That is, until she tried to get me to start spending time with Leroy.”
“What happened?”
“When she wasn’t working, she’d tell my dad that she was taking me to the movies or somewhere and when we got there, ol’ smilin’-behind Leroy would already be there waiting. The two of them would be all over each other right there in front of me! I know that I was young, around eleven or twelve, but I knew what was going on. I hated them both for it, especially my mama because I knew how much my dad loved her.” Jamal tilted his head and looked at Catt with ire. “You know that clown Leroy even told me that I could call him ‘Daddy’ when my pops wasn’t around. I swear that just made me hate that fool even more.”
“What about your dad? Did he know what was going on?”
“He had to!” reasoned Jamal. “Some nights, I’d hear them in their bedroom arguing. My mom would be screaming, telling him that he’s wasn’t nothing and that he was holding her back. Once, I heard her say to him that she was never going to have anything as long as she was tied to him. Then she would talk about all the crap Leroy had bought her and the places he’d taken her and everything he’d done for her. My dad would just listen and tell her how much he loved us and how we could still be happy together. He was a good one, though, because I probably couldn’t have put up with that. I know I couldn’t!”
“Sometimes it takes realizing that you’d do anything for a person to make you see that it’s gone too far,” Catt theorized.
“I guess so. This went on for a few weeks. Then one day, my dad and I went fishing. He would take me to this stream deep in the woods. It was always so quiet and peaceful out there, and it always smelled like pine trees. I loved it,” narrated Jamal dreamily. He snapped out of it and continued the story. “We were laughing and talking when we got home that day. My mother was in the living room with suitcases packed. My dad asked her what was going on and if she had a singing gig out of town. She told him no, that she was leaving him and was never coming back. She said that she was going to marry Leroy and that they were leaving for California and were taking me with them.”
“Oh my God!” gasped Catt. “What did he say?”
“He begged her to stay or at least to let me stay with him. I mean he was crying, Catt, no shame. At one point, he even got on his knees. She just shook her head and told him that he was weak, and that this proved it. She said that she wasn’t going to let me grow up being weak like that. She wanted me to be a real man like Leroy. She kept calling Dad weak and saying that he wasn’t a man. She even told him that Leroy was a better man in bed and that I was already calling Leroy ‘Daddy.’ After she said that, it just seemed like all the fight went out of him. He just stood there; he couldn’t even look at me.”
Catt shook her head. “I don’t care how much she thought she loved this other guy, she didn’t have to break your dad like that. Hearing words like that come from the person you love is enough to send anyone over the edge.”
“That’s exactly what happened. Right after she packed everything in suitcases and plastic bags, Leroy pulled up to come pick us up. I was crying and pleading with her not to make me go. I told her I wanted to stay with my dad. I kept telling him to tell my mom that I could stay with him, but he didn’t. He just stood there.” Jamal’s eyes fell downcast. “He didn’t say anything.”
As he recounted the story, Jamal’s eyes began to swell with tears despite his efforts to fight them back. “Then my dad walked over to the buffet table, opened the drawer where he kept his gun, pulled it out, and shot himself.”
“Shot himself?” echoed a stunned Catt.
Jamal nodded. “One bullet to the head. My mom was completely hysterical, but I was numb. It felt like a dream or like it was happening to someone else. I mean, in a span of about thirty minutes, I went from a great time fishing with my dad, to hearing my mom announce that not only was she leaving, but that she was taking me with her, to having my tennis shoes covered with my father’s blood as I watched him die right in front of me. How’s a kid supposed to get over something like that?”
Catt dropped her head. “I don’t know.”
“One of them called the ambulance—my mom, I think, they came and pronounced him dead. Of course, ol’ Leroy didn’t waste any time. He had my mom take everything valuable from the house, and we were on a plane that same night.”
“You didn’t stay for the funeral?” she asked.
Jamal shook his head and wiped a tear. “I never even got to say good-bye. We were in California before the day was out.”
“How did you end up back here?”
“Well, we were living out there, going from motel to motel, sneaking out to keep from paying. After awhile, Leroy’s drug habit became apparent, and any money my mom did make from singing went into his arm or up his nose. He pawned all my dad’s stuff, I think at one point he even had my mom turning tricks. Then he started beating her. I remember one time he beat her unconscious, and she had to go to the hospital. He never touched me, though, just ignored me. I couldn’t muster enough sympathy to feel sorry for my mother,” he recalled. “She took my dad away from me, and I hated her for that.
“Then one day, Leroy and all his stuff were gone. We didn’t have any money or food and ended up having to sleep in women’s shelters or with whoever my mom could convince to take us in for the night. Eventually, she got somebody to wire us some money for a bus ticket, and we came back to North Carolina.”
“How long were you out there?”
“Almost a year. My dad had to die so that my mom could live with and get beat down by that fool for a year.” Jamal began sobbing. Twenty-two years of repressed hurt, confusion, and anger all erupted at that moment.
Catt thought it best to let him cry. She offered her shoulder and held his head as he wept. More than anything, she wanted to hold him, to take him in her arms and erase whatever it was that made him hurt like that.
“Are you all right?” she asked when the sobs subsided and gave way to soft whimpers.
“Yeah,” he said, lifting his head. “I’m sorry for just breaking down like that. I guess you probably think I’m crazy or something.”
She shook her head. “I think you’re wonderful and brave and that you have been holding this in for far too long.”
He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Well, now you know it all, all of my deep dark secrets.”
“I can’t tell you what i
t means to me that you’d confide in me like this; that you’d trust me this much.”
He looked into her eyes. “I do trust you. You’re the first woman that I’ve trusted in a very long time.”
“That means a lot to me, Jamal. I hope you know that.”
“Yeah, I do.”
Catt readjusted her position on the bed. “Is it okay if I ask you something? It’s about your mother if you feel up to talking about her.”
“Go ahead.”
“What was your relationship like with your mom after everything happened? I mean, did you all just go back to normal, being mother and son? I know in our situation with my mother’s drug abuse, it actually brought us closer together. Was it like that for you too?”
Jamal shook his head. “Not at all. For a long time, I didn’t even speak to her. I rebelled a lot—started making bad grades, staying out, getting into trouble—just to hurt her. I had so much going on inside of me that I couldn’t put into words, especially the rage I had toward my mother. Eventually, I started back talking to her again, but I knew we’d never be same. How could I ever get over that? At the time, I didn’t have the option of counseling like you did. Perhaps if I’d gone, things would be a lot different, and I wouldn’t still be dealing with this.”
“So you haven’t forgiven her?”
“I’ve dealt with it, you know what I mean? There’s nothing anybody can do about it now. Being mad at her won’t bring my dad back, and she’s dead now too, so I just have to get over it.”
“I think you need closure, like I needed with Jimmy.”
“You want me to close my eyes and pretend you’re her?”
“No, I don’t think that’ll work this time.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“I think there’s a stop we need to make before we cross into Charlotte.”
“Where to?”
She held his face in her hands. “To the cemetery. I think it’s time you had a talk with your mother.”
Chapter 29
“Whoo-hoo!” howled Jamal as he slammed the car door shut after climbing inside the SUV. “Next stop, North Carolina!”
“Thank God!” blurted Catt, who settled down in the passenger side.
Jamal feigned anger. “Oh, so you’re getting tired of me, huh?”
“I’m getting tired of you, this car, these suitcases, and everything else you can think of that’s associated with this trip!”
He laughed. “I feel you. I’m getting a little sick of looking at you myself.” He cranked up the radio. “North Cack-a-lac-key, here we come!”
“You got to admit, it’s been some trip.”
“Yes, it has. One thing’s for sure, there’s not a thing we don’t know about each other now.”
Catt bit her lip and turned away.
Jamal took his eyes off the road for a second. “Why did you get quiet all of a sudden?”
“I’m sorry. I just zoned out for a minute. What were you saying?”
“I said it feels like we know everything about each other except our Social Security numbers.”
“There are still a few hours left in the journey,” Catt pointed out. “I may have those nine digits out of you before we cross state lines.”
“With the way things have been going, you just might!”
Catt’s mood turned pensive.
“Did you check out on me again?”
“No, I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
“How much courage it must’ve taken for you to tell me about Kennedy and your mother. Those kinds of memories are not easy to relive, much less tell someone about it. I admire you for being willing to do that, and I feel honored that you trust me like that.”
“Well, Catt, you’ve kept it just as real with me. I know it wasn’t easy to tell me about your mother being on drugs or to talk about your issues with your weight, but you didn’t hold anything back. That’s what made me feel like it was okay to confide in you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I mean, you’ve been so open and honest with me. I guess I didn’t want there to be any secrets between us.”
Uneasiness gnawed at Catt. She knew there was one thing she hadn’t confided in Jamal for her own reasons. She’d worked so hard at being a paradigm of Christianity that she was afraid of the real, ugly truth about her past being revealed. But she knew that, as a Christian, she needed to be transparent, and that meant telling Jamal everything.
“Jamal, there is one thing I have been keeping from you, but I don’t want to anymore. I want to tell you the truth, I want to tell you everything,” began Catt. “Maybe, then, my nightmares can stop too.”
He was taken aback. “Your nightmares?”
“Yes, there are things in my life that I’ve been dealing with for years. You know Jimmy is one. That yellow piece of a paper is another one.”
“What yellow piece of paper?”
“Don’t you remember that day in my hotel room when you were going through my scrapbook?”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“There was a hospital receipt in there that I didn’t mean for you to see.”
“I remember. You seemed sort of freaked out about it.”
“With good reason,” she said. “It’s not something I like to think about, much less talk about.”
Jamal shook his head. “I don’t get it. You said you had outpatient surgery, so what’s the big deal? It wasn’t anything life threatening, was it?”
“No, but what happened was just as devastating.” Catt reclined the seat back and unleashed her saga. “It was senior year of college, around October.”
Jamal turned down the music. “What happened?”
“My roommate, Keila, and I were thick as thieves, always getting each other into or out of trouble. Sometime around September, Keila started dating this guy named Jarvis who she’d met at a party one night. A couple of weeks later, he invited her to come to a house party with him. She was a little reluctant because it was out of town. She begged me to tag along, but I was hesitant. I mean, she barely knew Jarvis and knew even less about the people that would be at this party. But I agreed to go with her, against my better judgment. If nothing else, I thought, we could go and keep each other safe.”
Catt stopped as if she were deep in thought and had just recalled a painful memory. Jamal pressed her to continue the story.
“On the night of the party, Jarvis came to pick us up, and we drove around for about an hour looking for the house. Eventually, we found it. Then we went inside. It was very dark except for a black light and maybe one or two candles. Everybody was hugged up—kissing, doing whatever. It felt like we had just walked into some big orgy. It didn’t take long for Keila and Jarvis to blend right on in. In fact, I lost track of them once we got inside.
“Anyway, I sat down on the sofa, and a guy came over to where I was. We started talking and drinking . . . a lot of drinking,” she stressed. “After a while, I guess I just got caught up in everything that was going on, and we started kissing and things started to heat up. He told me that there was a basement in the house that we could go into for more privacy. I agreed to go, but by this time I was really drunk. I mean, I could barely walk, so I told him that I wanted to stay upstairs on the couch instead. He started insisting that we go, and he hoisted me up and carried me downstairs.”
“Were you drugged or something?” Jamal asked concerned. “He could have put something in your drink.”
“I don’t know, I suppose it’s possible since he was the one bringing me the drinks. Anyway, the next thing I know, we’re on a bed. He was touching me and trying to take my clothes off. I don’t know if I actually told him to stop, but I do know that I wanted him to. I felt confused and like I couldn’t move or speak. I was just totally out of it. I remember him climbing on top of me, and I sort of blacked out after that. I’m not really sure what happened.
“When I woke up briefly, Keila was helping me get into the car, and th
e last thing I remember is waking up in my own bed the next day.”
“And you have no idea who the guy was? Did you have a name or anything like that?”
“He told me his name, but I can’t remember it. I just know that it was something ’dre, like Deondre or Keondre. Then again, he could have made it up.”
“All right, tell me what happened next.”
“That morning when I asked Keila about it, she said that she and Jarvis were looking for me so that we could leave, and that she found me alone and naked in the basement. She dressed me, and they had to help me to the car and into our apartment. She wasn’t sure what happened while I was down there. I assume that some students from school were at the party because by Monday, the whole campus was buzzing about how I’d slept with a bunch of guys at the party.”
“What?” he exclaimed.
Catt nodded. “You can imagine how I felt and what was going through my head. I didn’t know what to think—had I been raped? Did I really let those guys do that to me? Was it true?” She lowered her head and seemed to be fighting back tears. “It was horrible.”
“Maybe nothing happened, you know?” suggested Jamal to make her feel better. “Maybe the guy saw how out of it you were and left. Someone probably saw you go down there with him and just assumed that something happened. You know how people just make stuff up to have something to gossip about.”
“No, something definitely happened,” she assured him.
“How can you be sure if you don’t remember?”
“I had proof. You see, a few weeks later, I went to the doctor to have an AIDS test just to put my mind at ease. My biggest concern was that I might have acquired some kind of disease from someone at the party; I hadn’t really considered the possibility of anything else being wrong with me. The HIV results came back negative, but the other test didn’t.”
“What test was that?”
She took a deep breath. “My pregnancy test.”