by Dara Girard
Before another day could pass, Janet decided to talk to her father. She went to the study and knocked then turned the knob. It wouldn't budge.
"Daddy?" she said. When he didn't respond she pounded on the door. "Daddy, please open up. It's Janet."
After a few moments she heard his footsteps and the door unlock, but it didn't open. She took a deep breath then stepped inside. What she saw made her want to weep. Her father looked as though years had been stripped away from him. His face was ashen, unshaven; his clothes in disarray; his eyes hollow and red from crying. He knelt on the floor like a beaten man. "Daddy, please get up."
"How can I rise to my feet when I must bow my head in shame?" he said. "Look at the shame your sister has brought on our house. For over twenty years I have struggled in dis country to build a good life for you and your sisters." He held up a finger. "And dis one act has ruined it all. Just wiped it away."
"Daddy we can—"
"We can do nothing. It is done. I didn't open the door because I want you to make me feel better. I know the weight of my choice. I feel it. This is all my fault. I should have listened to you."
Janet knelt in front of him. "Please don't—"
"Don't what? Feel the stain that is now on our name? Should I ignore the looks at the market? Forget the whispers I hear? I've been stripped of my deaconship and your mother of her position on the women's missionary board. We now have no church to go to. Even my business is suffering. Some of my clients have already withdrawn their accounts from mi."
Janet stiffened, indignant. "Then the shame should be theirs, not yours. You couldn't have know that Maxine would—"
"But you knew. The church's judgment of mi is right. If I cannot manage my own family, how can I manage their funds? How can I be a leader in the church?"
"Daddy this isn't right."
"There's nothing you can say, I accept my punishment."
"Punishment from whom? For what?"
"From God for my arrogance.... We'll have to move."
"I'm sure things will work out. They'll be found and things will be okay."
"Having a daughter live in sin, with a man, without marriage, how, tell me how, will I live this shame down?"
"By knowing it can't get worse."
* * *
But it did. Several days later Mrs. Perry sought out Janet who was helping Beverly in the kitchen.
"I just received a call from Godfrey. He told me that Maxine and Wilcox have been spotted."
"At least they're together," Beverly said. "Perhaps they are married and we don't know it."
"They aren't married and it's worse than we thought." She fell against the wall and her eyes welled with tears. "She's pregnant. The source said they'd seen her at a doctor's office and she's starting to show."
Beverly stumbled to a chair; Janet couldn't move.
Mrs. Perry covered her face. "My poor sister."
Beverly gripped the table. "And Daddy."
Janet wrung the dish towel in her hand. "How are we going to tell them?"
"Do we have to?" Beverly said.
"Better us than someone else," Mrs. Perry said.
Janet lay the towel down. "No one else must know. It's bad enough that she's run off with him, but this..." She couldn't finish.
Beverly raised her hands to the ceiling in a plea. "Dear God, have mercy on us!"
"This can only be kept secret for so long," Mrs. Perry said. "Godfrey assured me that the source won't tell anyone and Maxine and Wilcox are not in the same community where we grew up, so no one knows, but in time word will travel."
"Should we tell them together?" Beverly asked. "Perhaps we could bring them into the family room and give them something to eat. They haven't eaten well and some nourishment could make them stronger."
Janet shook her head. "Beverly, we can't make this any easier on them."
Mrs. Perry turned to the door. "All we can do is try."
* * *
The moment Mrs. Barnett heard the news she crumpled to the floor and began sobbing. Mr. Barnet burst from the room and ran out the back door and all they heard were his screams. Janet stood at the window and watched her father tear open his shirt and shake his fists at the sky. Tears fell as she saw him crawl on the ground and scrape up handfuls of dirt as though he wished to dig his own grave. And her heart cracked knowing there was nothing she could do, remembering the last time she'd seen him wail: The day after they'd buried her brother.
Crib death they called it, but her father didn't need a name. The light of his life had been snatched away. The son he'd hoped and dreamed for had been taken and that day too he asked God why, without a reply. They had spent their lives knowing of a name they couldn't mention, and a birthday they couldn't forget. Janet turned from the sight of her father's anguish and she, Beverly and her aunt held each other and cried.
Mr. Barnett cried too. He knelt on the ground and rubbed dirt on his face and his clothes. "Dear God," he said, the weight of his sorrow making his voice hoarse. "Have I not been a good servant to you? Have I not tried to honor all your ways? I moved on when you took my son and now you've taken my daughter and my name away from me. What other punishment do you have for me? I live, but I'm dead inside." He ripped his shirt then collapsed to the ground.
Over the next week they did not receive any visitors. There was no music, no T.V., no radio. The house stood still. The elder Barnetts spent their days in fasting and prayer while the two younger sisters tried to make do. But they did not realize or understand the full scope of what was happening around them. Trudy sulked when their parents didn't eat with them for another night.
"They're avoiding me," she said.
"They're not avoiding you," Beverly said.
"I wish everyone wouldn't act like this is all my fault. Daddy won't even look at me, but I didn't do anything wrong."
You should have told us, Janet wanted to say, but she knew she was just as much to blame.
Francine spoke up. "It's a little exciting. Like we're heroines in a novel. God's given us this wonderful trial we should embrace. The ruination of our sister and our exile from the community forces us to turn to each other and will strengthen our family. Maxine's shame is a beautiful example of how dangerous men can be. In a book I read a woman killed herself after—"
Janet set her fork down. "Shut up, Francine."
"But—"
"You think you're smart, but you have no idea what you're saying. How can you read so much and know so little? You have books filled with knowledge." She tapped the side of her head. "But you haven't learned anything. This is not a story in a book, or a passage in the Bible meant for analysis. This is reality and it's not wonderful, beautiful or anything but a tragedy." She picked up her fork and they ended the meal in silence.
A day later, Mrs. Lind-Beecham came to help with some duties and the Barnetts welcomed her coming. But then an unwanted visitor showed up.
Chapter 38
Mother Shea arrived at the Barnett's house wearing her ostrich feather hat and purple high heels. Janet led her into the family room where Beverly, Trudy and Francine sat and asked that she forgive them but that her parents were indisposed and couldn't see her.
Mother Shea took a seat and sniffed. "As they should be. I knew something would come about. If they had listened to me last year none of this would have happened."
Janet stood. "I'm sorry, I haven't offered you any refreshments." She walked stiffly to the kitchen. When she didn't return, Beverly went to see what was keeping her and found Janet pouring salt in the pitcher of sorrel juice.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"If she can put salt on our wound, I can put salt in her sorrel."
"No." Beverly emptied the pitcher in the sink. "I'll make tea and you wait. Remember she's a guest."
"A guest?" Janet clenched her teeth. "She's like the serpent in the Garden of Eden. I'd sooner welcome the devil's scorn than that woman's compassion."
"Janet," Beverly said in
a harsh whisper.
"The sight of her makes me wonder. Who is this God we serve who mocks us in our misery? Sometimes—"
Beverly covered Janet's mouth and pinned her with a hard look. "Don't even think it. Wipe thoughts like that from your mind and stand firm in faith for Though He slay me, yet I will trust in Him. And if you cannot believe it then let me believe it for you. Okay?" Janet nodded and Beverly removed her hand. "Now I'll make tea."
"You were wrong when you said you were not strong." Janet leaned against the counter and folded her arms. "You are strong in all the right ways. I'm the weak one. My flaws glare out at me. My temper, my unruly tongue and so many other things. I hope He will reward your faithfulness. I know I will not be so fortunate because I have been foolish, proud and impulsive."
"His love for us never wavers, Janet. If I can love you with all your flaws He certainly can." She cupped Janet's face. "Oh little sister, you've grown and I'm so glad." She kissed her on both cheeks then set the tray.
When they returned to the family room, Janet tried to be civil as she sat and watched Mother Shea help herself to a handful of biscuits. "I knew this day would come," she said. "A cloud hung over this house for months. You welcomed that Wilcox fellow too quickly. Trusted him too fast."
Janet opened her mouth to argue, but Beverly's soft nudge stopped her.
"If you had done as God had appointed and Beverly had married Brother Jerome, none of this would have happened. God is punishing your family for disobedience. But I will pray with some of the sisters and elders from the church to ask God to forgive you all." After several minutes, and some more refreshments Mother Shea left feeling that she'd done her duty. Mrs. Lind-Beecham watched her go knowing that she had to do hers.
* * *
"Is it true?" Darika asked as they hid in Janet's car. She'd caught Janet's eye at the market and they'd secretly met there.
"Yes."
Darika swallowed and her eyes became moist. "You know that Ramani's dead, right?"
Hot tears filled Janet's eyes and she nodded, anguish searing her heart as she forced herself to face the truth she'd been trying to deny for years—that her friend had probably never made it to India and if she had, she hadn't been there long. Her friend had paid the ultimate price for her freedom. Ramani was dead, but somewhere out there her daughter lived.
Darika's voice broke. "There will never be any news and I didn't want to pretend anymore especially now."
"I know."
"She would have wanted you to have this. They threw out everything else but I managed to save it." She handed Janet Ramani's favorite red silk scarf.
"Thank you."
Darika squeezed Janet's hand then slipped out of the car.
Janet watched her go then wrapped the scarf around her neck, inhaling the faint scent of her friend, and wept.
* * *
Mrs. Lind-Beecham hadn't attended a church service in over fifteen years, but that Sunday she dressed with special care knowing that she had to present herself well. Her husband brushed her jacket and polished her shoes and she kissed him in thanks, grateful that Janet had brought such a wonderful man into her life.
"You're inviting trouble," he warned her as she prepared to leave.
"I don't care."
He smiled. "I'm glad," he said, then helped her with her coat. She arrived at the church just as Pastor Wainwright was about to start testimony service. She held up her hand, walked down the aisle and shouted, "Pardon me Pastor, but I must speak to the congregation."
"You can speak later," someone shouted out.
Mrs. Lind-Beecham stared at Pastor Wainwright. "No, I will speak now."
He nodded, then stepped aside. Mrs. Lind-Beecham approached the pulpit. "I have heard an' seen nastiness in dis community and most of it come from those of you sitting in these pews. You tink you so holy an' good dat you can treat the Barnetts the way you do. I expected it from some of you." Her gaze surveyed the group. "But when those of you wid influence." Her gaze fell on Mother Shea. "Felt too high an' mighty an' acted with arrogance, insteadda compassion, I knew mi haffi say someting. The Barnetts are good people. Who don't know dat Brother Barnett, as you used to call him, would give him shirt and feed anyone of you in need?
"Hasn't Mrs. Barnett done her duty as a Christian woman by helping di community, by volunteering and working hard on most of your church committees, in spite of the fact she hav five pickney fi raise? Even the holiest family has a prodigal son or daughter. Which of you is widout sin; let dem be the first to cast the stone."
Mrs. Lind-Beecham looked at one of the women. "Wasn't your husband di one I saw coming out of di bar di other day?" She looked at Brother Jeremiah and his wife Bessie. "Ask your husband who helped him wid his money troubles. 'Cause this big man of yours was too scared to tell you. I heard Mr. Barnett on de phone wid him."
She noticed Sister Gordon's daughter, Neta, in the crowd. "As fi you, most of all, wit all di dirty tings you're doing wit di boys, I know how you influenced dat Maxine. You tink I didn't see you. I was watching, just as God watches your every step.
"Most of you don't know me, because you don't care to know me." She tapped the pulpit to punctuate every word. "But. I. Know. You. I've been in most of your homes and cleaned and run errands and you never noticed me, but I noticed you. I may be dark and I may be poor, and to you I'm a sinner bound fi hell, but I believe in a God who is good and I pray Him don't send mi to heaven wid any of you."
The congregation gasped, Mrs. Lind-Beecham continued. "I am richer in spirit than anyone of you an' I'm happy I have never stepped in dis church before, because you can keep your Sista and Bredda titles. I have seen your treatment of one of your so call family and I'm glad mi not in it." She turned to Pastor Wainwright and nodded. "Thank you," she said then left leaving them in silence.
* * *
"Harder! Harder! Faster! Yes, that's it."
Russell groaned. He didn't like to be told what to do, but the girl arching herself into him could be bossy. Lucky for Maxine, she pleased him enough for him to forgive her. He kissed her between her breasts then down to her stomach. He paused at the slight swell. He'd been careless knocking her up, but every time she'd welcomed him between her legs he hadn't thought about protection. Not even thirty and he was getting sloppy. If he'd been more careful he wouldn't have lost his job at the Institute.
He looked down at her. She had about three more months before he'd completely lose interest. Pregnant women weren't a turn on. He teased her nipple with his thumb and she giggled. He had to admit she was lots of fun. He may make an exception, if she was willing to go down on him and put that bossy mouth of hers to good use. Or he'd get another woman to fulfill his needs when she couldn't. Feeling satisfied, Russell got out of bed and began to change.
Maxine watched him. "When are we going to get married?"
He zipped up his jeans. "Soon."
"I can't wait to show you off to my friends." She frowned. "Where are you going?" she asked as he put on his shoes.
Bossy and a nag. "Out." He shut the door behind him. He headed to the pub down the road. As he turned the corner, someone shoved him against the wall, fastening their hand around his neck. A knife glistened in the darkening light.
"I should have killed you that night."
Russell's gaze darted from the knife to Frederick's face. His fear fled. "But you didn't and you won't now. You have too much honor."
Frederick tightened his grip. "How much?"
"What are you talking about?"
His grip tightened more.
Fear shot through him, he clawed at Frederick's hand, fighting for breath. "I can't breathe."
"I know. How much?"
Russell wheezed out a number.
Frederick stared at him for a long moment then released him. Russell fell back gasping for air while Frederick retracted his knife. "You're going to take Maxine to this hotel." He handed him a card. "Her uncle is waiting there. You'll get married at the courthous
e."
"And if I don't?"
Frederick held up his knife, his tone hard and ruthless. "I'll make sure that Maxine's child is the only one you ever father."
* * *
"I just received a call from your uncle," Mr. Barnett announced after he'd gathered his family together. "They've located Maxine. She's married."
The family burst into cheer, but Janet noticed her father wasn't as joyous as the others and wondered if he would ever be the same. He answered their questions about where the couple was found and when the marriage took place then said, "Janet, I want to speak to you," and left the room.
She followed him into his study and shut the door. "Yes?"
"I have a story fi you. I had this man in my home. I trusted him with my family and your uncle had to pay him to marry mi daughter."
"Pay him?"
"Yes. Your uncle wouldn't tell me the amount, but admitted that he had to settle some debts fi him before Wilcox would agree."
"Despicable man."
He released a heavy sigh. "And to think, now he is my son-in-law. Your uncle spent a lot of money I know I'll never be able to pay back. I sit here and I can see that my American Dream will never come true. There will be no more waiting. I will never be a wealthy man. I will never be respected. It's over."
Janet leaned forward desperate to break through his despair. "No, Daddy. Now that Maxine is married we can deal with the pregnancy. We can say that the baby was premature."
"People will know."
"But they won't say anything, because at least she's married now. You must see the blessing in this. This is not your sole debt to pay. I'll help you because it's my fault too."
"No, Janet. I—"
"You're the head of this family, but I carry your name too and I will always be proud of it, no matter what happens. You are not alone."
Large tears streamed down his face. "Then why do I feel alone?"
"Because you've locked yourself away in here for so long. You've not allowed anyone close. You can't hide anymore. You are a loved man. Think of what Uncle has done. He wouldn't have done it for a lesser man." Janet stood and came around the desk. "You give so much, but you have to learn how to receive." She wrapped her arms around him.