“Okay, I’m gonna call Ella and see if she can come sit with the kids until they leave for school. I’ll see you in a few.”
Laney was silent on the short drive. Her newfound faith wasn’t strong enough yet to calm her fears, not when they involved someone she dearly loved being mauled by someone she detested.
Keisha’s mother was standing guard over the room. She’d heard enough about Laney and Sheila to know they were friends of Keisha and allowed the nurses to show them the way.
Even though she had warned them of what they would find, Laney ran for the bathroom and lost the cup of coffee that Sheila had brought her for the ride. Keisha was so swollen she was hardly recognizable. Tubes were attached everywhere. She had machines beeping and monitoring. Her face was one huge bruise. Stitches lined the side of her face and disappeared once they hit the bandage that was covering her head. She was breathing, but barely. Gone was the joy and laughter that had once consumed this woman lying comatose. Everything Laney could see was minor compared to what had happened inside her body. Apparently when she had collapsed from the pain, he started kicking her over and over again.
Laney could see Sheila’s lips moving, praying, she was sure. Laney took a giant step backward in terms of her faith. How could God allow something like this to happen? Keisha loved him. She was always talking about him. Now this?
They were only allowed to spend a couple of minutes with her. She was recuperating from all the surgery. She’d spent hours underneath the knife. She had so many bleeding organs from being kicked with steel-toed boots, they couldn’t determine how long he had beat her before he grew tired of it.
Laney sat down next to Keisha’s bed. She wasn’t leaving until they made her. She watched Sheila quietly head out of the room toward Keisha’s mother who was wondering if her daughter was going to survive.
Laney watched Keisha for a moment, wondering if she could hear her. Some people believed people in comas could hear what was going on around them. Some didn’t. Laney didn’t care. She was going to talk to her anyway.
“Look at this mess you are in. Girl, by the time you get better, you’re going to be skinnier than me.” Laney wiped a tear that escaped.
She willed life into Keisha. She tried to find some exposed skin, anything she could hold onto. Both hands had tubes sticking out of them and what didn’t have tubes was covered in bandages. “How did this happen, Keisha? Why? I don’t understand.” Laney pleaded with her friend to fight, to not give up. She turned to God. “Why? Why did you let this happen?” Laney felt her anger build. She had to leave. She was angry with Keisha for taking that scum bag back in, she was angry with Jamal for too many reasons to count, and she was angry with God because he could have stopped this and didn’t. The nurse stepped in and motioned for her to leave.
Laney left without saying a word. The taste of her tears conflicted with the taste of the bile rising within her. She ran out the first exit she came to and shouted at the sky. “Why? I thought you were bigger than this. I thought you could do anything? Was this too much for you? Some great big God you are.” She sat down on the curb and held her stomach with more questions than she had answers for.
* * * *
Sheila headed straight to Keisha’s mom and held her tight. “We are here if you need anything at all.” She pulled back. “How is Junior? Is he with family?”
The large black woman shook her head and wiped her nose with a piece of tissue. “Yeah, he’s with my mama right now. He’s got to go see the social worker later today.” She sat down on the nearest orange chair and blew her nose in earnest. “That boy won’t talk to nobody. He ain’t said a word since they found him. I didn’ know it was so bad. I jus' didn’ know. I’m the one who told her take the fool back. This is all my fault.”
Sheila sat down next to the woman. “I’m so sorry. But you cannot take the blame for this. What Jamal did, the way he treated Keisha, is his fault. Not anyone else’s. He is to blame for what he did. You cannot beat yourself up over this. Junior is going to need you more than ever. You are all he has left.”
“You should’a seen Jamal. They haul’d his butt in and he smilin'. Can you believe that? Grinnin’ like he done nothin’ wrong. Almos' proud. He hurt my baby and he’s proud.”
The women sat together, crying, when they heard an alarm going off and nurses and doctors moving at a rapid pace.
Sheila quickly moved to the nurses’ station. “Is everything okay? Is it Keisha?”
Laney had heard the alarm from outside and went to sit and wait. There were no ready answers so all three women huddled together, waiting for someone to tell them what was going on. It wasn’t long before a doctor approached them. “I’m sorry. We did all we could. There was just too much damage. We lost her.”
Laney let out a sob, not that anyone heard her. Each woman was lost in her own grief. While the doctor led Keisha’s mother back to her baby, Laney took off, running as fast and as hard as she could. Sheila started to follow but she backed off, realizing Laney needed to work off some anger.
Sheila offered to take Keisha’s mom back to the hotel, where she’d been staying. On her way, she looked for signs of her friend while driving. She didn’t see Laney until she was halfway home, slowly walking with her head downcast. She knew she was crying. She parked the SUV and got out and joined her, not saying a word. After walking for several minutes, Laney finally spoke. “Why? Why? What did she ever do to hurt anyone? She was so gentle and sweet. She had such an innocent faith. She never doubted God, not for a minute, and look what happened to her. What kind of God lets things like this happen to people? Especially people who love him?”
Pulling a tissue from her pocket, Sheila handed it to her friend. “Laney, honey, I don’t have all the answers. I never have. But, I do know I trust my God. More than ever. Do I understand everything? No. Do I understand even a little bit of what my God does? No. But, I do know he knows more than I ever could.”
She pulled another tissue for herself. “I love Keisha too. She touched my life in ways that surprised even me. I’m going to miss her.” She looked away for a second and took a deep breath. “She stopped by a couple of days after Christmas and brought me a gift. I hadn’t heard from her in a while so I was quite surprised. It was the most beautiful teacup I’d ever seen. Little pink flowers with tiny green leafs were daintily placed all over an off white china. The cup and saucer were trimmed in gold and the china was so delicate, so fragile, it was almost see-through. I asked her where she got it and she only smiled and told me she thought of me as soon as she saw it. She gave me a package to give to you too. It’s in the truck. You want to go and see what it is?”
Laney looked up, surprised. “Really, she got me something? I figured she was too busy to call me back. I tried to call her, to tell her I had something for her and Junior, but I never heard from her. I figured I’d call her after the holidays had passed, once things slowed down.” The tears started up again. “I guess that will never happen.”
Sheila put her arms around her friend and gently led her back to her truck. “Come on, let’s go home.” She helped her into the front seat and shut the door. When they pulled into Laney’s driveway, Sheila handed her the package Keisha had left for her. It was wrapped in simple brown paper and tied with string.
Laney took the package and held it close, not sure she wanted to open it. She knew Ella and the kids would want to know what happened, but she wanted a few minutes alone before she had to be strong. She let herself in her front door and sat at the kitchen table where she had a clear view of the Christmas tree still standing in the corner of the living room.
She slowly untied the package and couldn’t help but smile. A worn copy of Sense and Sensibility hid in the carefully-folded packaging. She spoke out loud. “She must have remembered what I was reading when we first met.” Of course she would remember. She might not have been the most socially adept, but her heart was in the right place.
Laney wiped away a tear and went to the Christmas tre
e. She found the snowflake ornament that Keisha had hung on the front of the tree and carefully wrapped it in the brown paper packaging from her gift and set it on the bookshelf.
Once again terror had revealed itself and she needed comfort. It was time to pick up her kids.
* * * *
Laney looked around to see who had come out for Keisha’s funeral. She was surprised to see a crowd. Her black hat hid her red hair perfectly, although that was not the reason she wore it. She had been warned ahead of time to prepare to stand outside for some time. Apparently the socially accepted short winter funerals were not “accepted” in African-American circles. Her black wool crocheted hat had been just the thing to keep her warm. She tucked every bit of her curly red mop in that hat. She must have had fifty bobby pins holding it all together.
The church service had been long, with many testimonies. It seemed as if Keisha’s whole family, all her aunts, uncles, cousins, second cousins and many who weren’t related by birth, had something to say. What a wonderful person she was. One second cousin had the audacity to ask who he should talk to about getting the money he loaned Keisha back. Her mother let out a gasp and his mother dragged him from the platform. The hallelujahs and amens resonating from the congregation while the preacher apparently preached a sermon startled Laney. She’d never seen such an animated funeral. One minute, everyone was wailing and the next, they were clapping their hands and acting thrilled that Keisha had been taken from them. This was the most confusing funeral Laney had ever attended.
The long line of cars slowly made their way through town. Laney was glad she drove with Sheila. She wasn’t familiar with the streets of Milwaukee.
Once they reached the cemetery, they all traipsed through the snow to the freshly dug earth, where Keisha lay suspended, waiting to be lowered, never to be heard from again. Laney tucked a stray curl back into her hat.
A black lady started singing Amazing Grace, her soulful version filling the air around Laney, reminding her of her proclamation to God. The very same God she had been avoiding. Several songs later, and after quite a few testimonies by those who found they had more to say, the procession began again, this time to the church where Keisha’s family attended. As she passed by the grave, Laney carefully laid the wrapped snowflake on top of the casket. Laney wasn’t sure she and Sheila should attend the luncheon, but Sheila wanted to speak with Keisha’s mother again, and both women wanted to see Junior. Neither Laney nor Sheila had had the chance to talk with him since finding out about Keisha. Laney had tucked his gift in her purse. She had been watching him during the funeral. He refused to go to the casket to see his mama.
Laney voiced her thoughts. “I wonder if Junior has talked to anyone yet?”
Sheila pulled into the church parking lot. “We’re about to find out.” Sheila glanced at Laney. “You ready?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Nope, I guess not. Let’s go in. It’s freezing out here.”
Both ladies climbed from the truck and followed those heading into the church, assuming they were going to the same place. They headed for Keisha’s mother and Junior, who was standing next to her.
Laney knelt down. “Hey buddy, can I have a hug?”
Junior shrugged so Laney enveloped him in her arms and clung to him. His hands continued to hang by his side and his face was stoic.
Laney pulled the small gift out of her purse and handed it to him. “I didn’t see you for Christmas so I brought your gift with me. Want to open it?”
Again, Junior shrugged. But, he took the package from her and slowly opened it. She had picked up a used Nintendo DS and a couple of games from the local game store. She had caught him eyeing Matt’s several times when they were together. “I hope you like it. Maybe sometime you can come over and you and Matt can play together, okay?”
He nodded and looked to his grandmother. She shook her head and sent him to sit at the table with his new gift, hoping it would take his mind off of his circumstances, if only for a little while.
“He ain’t talkin’. Not a lick. The police say his closet door was cracked open and he prob'ly saw the whole thing. That boy’s hurtin’. Mmm-hmmm. Yes he is. To see his mama lyin’ there, bleedin’ like that. And to know his daddy done it.” The big black woman shook her head, her grief too fresh to continue on.
Laney watched the boy pushing buttons on his new game and her heart broke for him. The pictures stored in his mind would never leave him. Whether or not he blocked them, he would always know what his father did to his mother. Living without a mother and a father was tough for any kid, but these circumstances had to be the worst. Laney couldn’t wait to get home and hug her own kids.
Chapter Twenty-Two
He stayed out of sight. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the broad who owned the women’s house would lead him to Laney. He had heard about the fat black woman getting beaten to death by her man. Maybe, just maybe, if he was lucky, Laney would show up at the funeral. By her description, he didn’t think he’d have a hard time picking her out of a crowd. A real looker. He scanned the crowd for a head of bright red curly hair. Nothing. Why did everyone have to where such drab clothes to these things?
'Course, there was always the possibility she changed her looks. He knew people who did that all the time. Gotta keep em’ guessing, especially if you don’t want to be found. He looked at all the women standing by the grave. There weren’t too many white women. She had to be there. He just knew it.
He ducked behind a tree as some people walked by. He didn’t want anyone seeing him, so he figured this would be the safest route, the easiest to hide. He could kind of take a back seat on this one since all he had to do was find the girl. Couldn’t be that hard.
Scanning the crowd for a head of bright red hair, he kept an eye out. Nothing yet. He hadn’t counted on the weather being so darn cold. The wind off the lake pretty much had everyone bundled up. It was kind of hard to see faces with everyone’s backs to him.
One woman in particular caught his eye. The only problem was, she was covered head to toe in black, including a black hat. Not a red hair in sight, at least, not that he could see from this distance. He tried to get a little closer.
He was close enough to hear the singing. Some big black lady was singing Amazing Grace. Didn’t anyone ever teach her to sing it normal-like? He hated when people changed the way songs went. It annoyed him and he didn’t like being annoyed.
He stood at the back of the crowd, trying to look like he belonged. Course anyone with half a brain could see he didn’t.
Now he could hear the preacher preaching. He’d like to know why preachers felt like they should preach at a funeral. Wasn’t the broad already dead? What good is the preaching gonna do her now? He positioned himself where he could watch the lady with the black hat. That was when he saw it. A stray piece of red hair popped out of her hat and she quickly tucked it back up. Bingo. He had her. At least he hoped it was her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A week had passed and Laney still couldn’t stop thinking about Keisha. She’d read the paper. Thank God Jamal had been so cocky. He was being charged with murder, so that helped some. She hoped he’d get the chair. She wasn’t even sure if someone could get the chair in Wisconsin, but in her mind, he more than deserved it. She made her way into the grocery store, trying to concentrate on the job at hand but had a hard time of it.
She’d made out her menu and grocery list and crossed each item off the list as she put it in the cart. Her mind was still on her dear friend and she wasn’t watching where she was going when she almost plowed into Jessi, Pastor Mark’s wife.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going. Obviously.”
Jessi smiled good-naturedly. “Oh, no problem. I tried to call you, to see how you are doing. I am really sorry about what happened to Keisha. We will miss her.”
“Yeah, I got the message but I really haven’t felt like talking about it. Although, I can’
t seem to get what happened out of my mind. It’s affecting me at home and at work. I’m hoping time will help.”
“We missed you this past Sunday at church.”
Laney looked sheepish. “Well, I was kind of busy. I thought I’d better stay home and catch up on some things.”
Jessi peeked into Laney’s cart. “Would you like to go sit down and have some coffee? I have some time if you do.” She pulled a jar of pickled pigs' feet out of Laney’s cart and held it up. “Unless you really think your kids want this for a meal?”
“Oh, sheesh, my mind is really not on this.” Laney blew out a deep breath. “Sure, maybe it’s time I talked with someone.”
Together they put the few things in Laney’s cart away, then walked outside to their cars.
They came to Laney’s car first. She opened her van door then did a double take. On the front windshield was a wilted rose. She held it up. “Is this someone’s idea of a joke?”
Jessi replied. “Probably some kid stuck it there. There is a small coffee shop down the street, you want to go there?”
Laney looked at the flower once more before throwing it aside. Her mind wandered to her husband. No, surely not. If he knew where she was, she’d know. He would make sure of it. “Yeah, you are probably right.” She tossed the flower aside and climbed in her van.
* * * *
They both ordered their coffee, then sat down at a private table, near the back. Jessi started the conversation. “Do you mind if I pray first?”
Laney nodded her consent and Jessi bowed her head and reached for Laney’s hand. “Lord, I ask that you be with us in the midst of this conversation. That our words and thoughts and actions would glorify you. I pray for understanding and peace to fill Laney’s heart. I pray that her commitment to you would not be harmed by what man has done. Father, I ask that you use me as you see fit to help your child. Be with us now, in the precious name of Jesus. Amen.”
Forever Blessed (Women of Prayer) Page 12