Into Each Life

by Shelia E. Bell

  Sara called Fantasia on the phone late in the evening after their commencement program. She needed a shoulder to cry on. Everything around her seemed to be caving in and she was terrified.

  “Fantasia, I don’t know what to do. I’ve screwed up my life big time,” Sara said frantically.

  “Sara, all I can tell you is that there are worse things that happen in life,” Fantasia exclaimed.

  “That may be true, Fantasia, but for me, there’s nothing worse than being young, single and pregnant with a father who’s never going to let me live this down. What am I going to do? I’m going to hell for sure.”

  “No, you are not going to hell, Sara,” Fantasia yelled. “Everything will be fine. You’re almost grown anyway. I’m so sick and tired of people talking about we have to do this or we’re going to hell, or if we do this, then we’re committing a sin, on and on. It’s God this and God that. I say that if there really is a God, then a lot of this crazy, evil stuff in the world wouldn’t be happening.”

  “Fantasia, don’t say that. You know that you shouldn’t talk like that about God. It’s blasphemy.” Sara was terrified at hearing her best friend’s remarks.

  “Well, that’s how I feel. And no one’s going to change it either. All you can do is make the best of your situation. Anthony loves you, right? And you love him?”

  “Yeah, I guess so, but I don’t want to be with him right now. I’ve got to think this through.” Sara’s voice cracked and Fantasia could tell she was crying.

  “Why don’t you want to be with him?”

  “I just don’t, that’s all. I’m leaving around the same time you leave for school. My parents are adamant about me going to Seattle to live with my aunt and raise my baby.”

  “How can you let them do this to you? See, that’s what I’m talking about. How can they dictate your life and tell you that you’ve committed such a terrible sin? It makes no sense to me and I’m tired of living a lie; pretending that I agree with Pastor Grace and all this religious stuff. My daddy believed in God and where is he? Six feet under,” Fantasia said, getting overly excited. She then took a deep breath to calm herself down before starting up again. “But this isn’t about me. It’s about you, Sara. I say don’t go anywhere unless you want to. We’re grown now. I don’t know about you, but I’m going to make my own decisions about my life and what I believe. You do what you have to do and I’m going to do what I have to do.

  “Fantasia, I don’t see any other way out of this.”

  “Well, I hope every thing turns out alright for you, Sara. Remember that I’ll always be a phone call away.”

  “Thanks Fantasia. You’re the best friend I have. Anyway, I think I’m going to turn in. I’m exhausted. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

  “Sure, just try to get a good night’s rest Sara. Don’t worry about a thing.” The girls hung up the phone. Sara wiped the tears from her tear-streaked face before going over to the dresser to get her nightshirt. At the Runsome household, Fantasia crawled up in her bed, grabbed her sketch pad and colored pencils and began to do what she loved best.

  Teary couldn’t believe it either when her mother told her about Sara’s dilemma. She thought that if anybody would slip up and get pregnant, that it would have been her. But Sara? Not her practical, never does anything wrong sister, Sara. By the time Teary even found out about Anthony, her sister was quite serious about him. But she never thought Sara would go and get herself knocked up. Oh, well. What’s done is done, Teary thought. And better her than me.

  Sara finally agreed that moving to Seattle would be the best move she could make if she wanted to secure a future for her and her unborn child. She was already ashamed of what she had allowed to happen between her and Anthony.

  Anthony hated the idea of Sara having to move away to Seattle, but he didn’t have much say so in the matter. He was no match against Brian Fullalove’s influence over his daughter. Raised by his father since his parents divorced, Anthony wanted to do more than take care of his child. He wanted to take care of Sara too. Now they were going to be hundreds of miles apart and he didn’t know what he would do without her.

  Sara loved Anthony, and so she could never allow him to marry her just because she was pregnant. She had dreams of marrying him one day, but not under these circumstances. She wanted it to be in the right way; a lavish church wedding with bridesmaids, a knockout white wedding dress and a sit down dinner that would be to die for. But now, look at her. She was pregnant. All she could hear was her daddy’s words replaying in her mind. She could never live down the fact that she had become pregnant outside of marriage, not in Broknfield, anyway.

  Anthony pleaded with her to remain in Broknfield and make things work for the sake of their baby, but she had refused. When she gave birth to a chubby moon faced little boy with skin the color of brown crayon, unconditional love replaced the disappointment felt by her parents, especially her father. When Anthony saw him through the nursery window, he beamed with pride and love for his newborn son, who Sara named Andrew.

  Chapter 9

  Fresh Start

  Fantasia’s dreams of leaving Broknfield behind became a reality when she left home for college. She barely returned home during breaks, instead, she always managed to find a job or some excuse to keep her away from Broknfield. She couldn’t believe how quickly time had passed. She was a first semester junior at Montserrat College of Arts. Soon she would be traveling abroad to study art in Italy during the summer. God and religion were a thing of the past for her and she liked her life the way it was just fine.

  “Hey, how’d you do on your exam?” her roommate asked. “I got a low B and I can definitely live with that.”

  Fantasia responded proudly. “I aced mine. You know I won’t have it any other way.”

  “Why am I not surprised? her roommate responded. “I’m headed to the University Center. Do you wanna come along?”

  “No thanks. I have some more studying to do, and then I have to get my clothes packed. I’m going to try to get out of here tomorrow for my brother’s high school graduation, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. I’ll catch up with you later,” the girl replied as her blonde locks bounced up and down like a rubber ball.

  I’d better call and check with Momma to see if everything is all set for Prodigal’s graduation. Fantasia pushed the speed dial button on her phone. Ruth picked up on the first ring.

  “Hello,” Ruth said into the phone receiver.

  “Hi, Momma. How’s everything coming along?” Fantasia asked.

  “Hi, baby. Everything is fine.”

  “Does Prodigal have everything he’s going to need for the ceremony Saturday? You know how absent-minded that brother of mine is. I don’t know where he got that trait from.” Fantasia grinned over the phone.

  “I don’t know where he got it from either. But anyway, I’ve been keeping tabs on him. I gave birth to that boy so I know him inside out. I have his cap and gown, his black suit pants, and I just picked up his white shirt from the cleaners.

  “Good, I’m glad all of that’s taken care of.”

  “When will you be home?” Ruth inquired.

  “I’ll be there a couple of days early so I can spend some time with everyone, but I have to leave the day after his graduation since I have that job at the art gallery. I had a choice to be off a few days before the graduation or a few days after, so I chose before.”

  “Are you coming alone?”

  “Momma, please don’t start. If I ever decide to bring someone home, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Uh, hum.”

  For the life of her, Ruth couldn’t understand why Fantasia shied away from relationships. No matter when she talked to her oldest child, there was never any mention of a boyfriend.

  “I told you, Momma, I don’t have time for a relationship right now. I have bigger and better things on my agenda. For one, I have to finish college. For two, I have to make a career and a name for myself. Those
are my priorities and it takes time. So let me tell you again, I don’t have time to be involved with anyone.”

  “Okay, okay,” Ruth said in defeat. “But it would be nice to know that you have a friend or someone in your life. Your daddy and I, well, what we had was special, Fantasia. I want all of my children to find that same kind of happiness and love.”

  “Momma, I know you do,” Fantasia replied, tenderly, to her mom. “And maybe I will one day, but not right now. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Ruth didn’t push her stubborn child any more about the issue.

  “Anyway, I’m happy. I have plenty of friends and we have a great time hanging out and doing our thing. I don’t need a man to be complete, and I don’t have to be in a relationship like you and Daddy were.”

  “I said okay, Fantasia. Forget I even mentioned it.” But Fantasia was on a roll. She wasn’t about to let her mother off the hook just yet. “That’s just not me. Plus, look at me. I’m doing great in school. I’ve studied abroad, and I’ve met all kinds of interesting and important people. I’m at the top of my class. Some of my paintings are already selling for big bucks. Why can’t you be proud and happy about that?”

  “I am proud of you, but I still worry about you. I won’t apologize for that, because that’s not going to change. It’s part of being a mother.” Ruth quickly changed the conversation so as not to alienate her daughter. “When did you say you would be here?”

  “In a couple of days, Momma. I’ll see you, I gotta go.”

  “Bye, baby,” Ruth said. Hanging up the phone Ruth felt defeated in her efforts to convince Fantasia that it wouldn’t hurt to have a man in her life. This time Ruth may not have succeeded, but she believed there would always be a next time to persuade her daughter to take her advice. Somehow she wanted to drive home to Fantasia how much happier her life could be if she had someone wonderful to share it with. “Life can still be quite lonely no matter how successful a person becomes,” Ruth said out loud.

  Chapter 10

  Truth Be Told

  Victory is mine, Victory is mine, Victory today is mine.

  The one hundred year old grey stone church was full of the spirit. The choir sang out in full force. The shouts of “Amen,” “hallelujah” and “praise the Lord” resonated through the stain glassed windows.

  The deacon stood up, motioning with his hands for the congregation and choir to stop singing. “Don’t you know who woke you up this morning? Started you on your way?” he said, his hands flailing and his feet moving like he was on a dance floor while his glistening bald head tilted toward the sky. “God loves to inhabit the praises of his people. He wants to be honored and magnified!” he shouted. “And that old sly one, y’all know who I’m talking about. He’s known by many names. Lucifer, the devil, satan. Yea, he sits beside some of you so-called God-fearing people that are lining these very pews.”

  “That’s right; go ahead. Tell it like it is, Deacon,” several members of the congregation yelled with one or more of their hands outstretched toward him. Pastor Grace sat perched in his chair in the raised pulpit.

  “Pastor, you know what the devil does?” the fired up Deacon asked.

  “What does he do Deacon?” Pastor responded.

  “He disguises himself as a saint, full of the spirit.”

  Pastor Grace nodded his head up and down in agreement. “Amen, deacon, tell ‘em.” Pastor Grace hollered.

  “But I’m here this morning to let you know that it’s not the spirit of God. And it’s hard sometimes to tell the real Christian folk from the ones that are full of hell. Oh, now if you love the Lord, you better show some sign! Now sing. Sing unto the Lord as we prepare to end Sunday School and enter into our morning worship service!” he instructed.

  Members of the congregation jumped to their feet. They clapped and waved their hands. The choir started singing again, their burgundy and gray choir robes sashayed back and forth. Victory is mine, Victory is mine, Victory today is mine, they sang over and over again.

  ♦

  The sound of the blaring alarm startled Prodigal. He bolted upright in his twin bed. Still dazed, he glanced at the clock — 8:30 a.m. He hadn’t woken up that early on a Sunday in a very long time. But today was special. Not only was he going to church, he was going to meet Faith and her family at the morning service.

  Hope was the only one in the Runsome family that attended church regularly. Of the three Runsome children, Hope was the one who wore her faith proudly. She was quite active in the youth group programs and faithfully attended Wednesday night youth bible study. Church meant everything to Hope. Ruth guessed it was a way of escape for her youngest child. Most of Hope’s friends and their families were regular church goers too. Like her father in many ways, Hope loved worshipping and serving God. Though young in years, Ruth was often amazed at the wisdom Hope possessed.

  Fantasia never entertained the thought of going to anybody’s church whether she was in Broknfield or away at school. Prodigal went every so often. As for Ruth, she rarely graced the doors of Deliverance Temple anymore. She chose, instead, to watch the televangelists that flooded the television every Sunday.

  Slipping each foot into his brown pleather slippers, Prodigal ambled toward his closet while rubbing his eyes and allowing a yawn to escape from his lips. He pushed his everyday clothes to the side and reached far in the back of his closet in search of his black trousers and white button down cotton shirt. Next, he lazily moved toward his chest of drawers, pulled open the drawer that held everything from his socks to his underwear to. At last, his black and white striped tie. After laying his clothes out, he started the search for his black penny loafers but he didn’t see them in his closet nor were they underneath the pile of laundry that set comfortably in the corner.

  “Ah, hah,” he said out loud. He stooped down on his knees, raised the blanket on the side of his bed, and peered underneath the dark area of his bed. He couldn’t see a thing, so he used his hand to sweep underneath the bed.

  “Bingo,” he said, still talking to himself. He pulled the dusty and worn looking loafers from their hiding place. Now that he had his attire laid out, he could take care of some important business that he couldn’t put off any longer. He ran into the hall bathroom, barely closing the door behind him and took a much needed leak. Next, he grabbed the jar of Vaseline from the medicine cabinet, picked up a face towel off the towel rack and headed back to his room. He took the towel and dipped it into the Vaseline, coming up with just the right amount to put a dapper shine on his loafers.

  Hey, these look pretty good, if I must say so myself, he thought.

  When Prodigal finished ironing, he glanced over at his clock radio — 9:15 a.m. Church started at eleven. He promised Faith the night before that he would be there and that he would be on time.

  Man, I’ve got to get out of here.

  “Prodigal, sweetheart,” his mother called out.

  Prodigal looked up and saw her heading down the hall toward his room. Still in her robe, she stopped just inside his bedroom door.

  “Good morning, Momma.”

  “Good morning, baby. Where are you off to?” Though it had been years since Solumun’s death, Ruth still wore that same sad, lifeless expression she’d worn since his father’s death.

  “To church. Has the church van picked up Hope already?”

  “Yes, sweetheart. Your sister left almost an hour ago. That girl reminds me of your daddy. She’s not going to miss church no matter what. You’re going to church?” she asked again.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “That’s nice baby. Pray for me. I can’t make it today.” She turned and walked back down the hall to her room.

  When Prodigal heard her shut her door, he went and jumped in and out of the shower. He put his clothes on and headed for the door, not even taking time to eat. He could have sworn he heard his mother crying again, but he couldn’t stop to find out for sure, not now.

  Rushing out of the house, he ran across the str
eet to Teary’s house. Ring, ring, no answer. Ring. There was still no answer at the Fullalove residence. “Dang, they must already be gone. I should have told Teary I wanted to ride to church with them this morning. Now I have to walk. Prodigal put one hand in his pocket and rubbed his head with the other hand. He drew in a deep breath and then started walking the three and a half blocks to Deliverance Temple of Praises.

  When he arrived, he took a moment to catch his breath and regain his composure. It had been months since he’d been inside the church walls. He scanned the outside of the church. If he had to admit it to anyone, he really did miss it. He walked up the church steps. Pastor Grace stood in the entrance greeting his members. When he saw Prodigal, he lifted his hands toward heaven.

  “Hallelujah, thank you, Jesus” Pastor Grace praised. Prodigal, my son, it’s so good to see you. Thank you, Jesus,” he said once more. “Come on in, son. Did your Momma come with you?

  “No, sir, she couldn’t make it today,” Prodigal replied.

  “I know Hope will be here if she isn’t already. How’s Fantasia doing in college? I haven’t seen that girl in God knows when.”

  “That’s because she rarely gets the chance to come home, sir. But she’s doing great. The church van picked up Hope.” Prodigal spoke intentionally in a low, almost inaudible, voice. He hurried quickly on past just in case Pastor Grace wanted to say anything more.

  Once inside, he quickly spotted Faith sitting on the young people’s side of the church. It wasn’t really the young people’s side by design. It’s just that all the teenagers and young adults happened to gravitate to the left side of the church and the adults gravitated to the right side. So everybody started calling it the young people’s side and the adult side. Prodigal walked quickly toward Faith.