Destiny Lingers

by Rolonda Watts

  “Mother?” The more she refuses to answer me, the angrier I get. “Why do you always do this?”

  “Do what?” she barks.

  “Why did you have to make everyone so uncomfortable, causing a public standoff in the store like that?”

  “They need to be uncomfortable—that Fern McKenzie!”

  This shocks me, as my seething mother just spewed out the woman’s name as if she actually knows her. “Mother, forget Mrs. McKenzie. Chase is my friend. I like him, and he has been very kind to me. And he’s the police chief, for goodness’ sake! I just don’t understand why you’d react like that.”

  “Because they deserve it!” she spits. “And trust me—that man is no friend of yours. I can tell you that!”

  “Mother, you don’t even know them.” I fear the incident with Garrett this morning has caused my mother to lose her mind.

  “Oh, I know them all right,” she says with evil-sounding gravel in her voice. “And trust me—what I know, I don’t like!”

  “How in the world do you know them, Mother? You rarely ever came to the Topsail. How can you make such judgments on people you don’t even know?”

  “Why don’t you ask them about the judgments they make? I swear, Destiny! You are so naïve!”

  “Naïve about what, Mother? You know, you are really scaring me now.”

  “Oh, no! What oughta scare you is the fact that that woman’s child is now a police chief, of all things. They’ve probably brought back public lynching!”

  “Okay, Mother! That’s enough!” She is taking this drama way too far. “I think you may be wrong about Chase. He has been nothing but a kind and generous man to me.”

  “Oh, really? Well, watch your neck. The apple doesn’t fall far from the lynching tree.”

  “Oh, Mother.” I’m exasperated.

  “Did your ‘kind and generous’ friend remind you about that time you two kids were fishing on your grandfather’s beach. Just two little innocent kids, for God’s sake, fishing, and in storms that white witch, Fern McKenzie, marching her nary ass across our property, yelling at that poor little boy to ‘Git off that nigger beach’? Huh? You remember that? That dragon nearly tore that poor child’s ear off, dragging him across the sand like the trailer-park heathen that she is!”

  “Whoa … whoa, Mother. Wait a minute. You’re talking too fast. I—”

  “And what nerve! That was our beach. Her little trailer-park–trash son had no business in our neighborhood anyway, much less running his dirty little bare feet across our property!” Punctuating her point with a dramatic gesture of the hand, Mother swerves the car off the road before swerving it back on it again.

  “Mother, slow down, please!” My head is whirling as fast as her red-lipsticked mouth is still running. She continues cursing and condemning the McKenzies with every breath in a determined litany. But I cannot hear her words for listening to my own inner voice and remembering scenes of a day and a boy long ago that I still wish I could forget. But that boy could not be my new friend Chase. No way. I remember the boy’s name now. It was Chip, not Chase. My mad mother is mistaken.

  But try telling her that. She is still fuming and running off at the mouth, while I am still confused and numb, stunned by all that I have just seen, heard, and suddenly remembered. But, surely, Police Chief Chase—that Adonis running in the sunset, that golden man with the sea-green eyes in the Hawaiian shirt, that kind cop who shared his fish and has a jacked up stencil on his squad car—that man could not possibly be that same little boy I was forever forbidden to see. Could it really be him? No, I remember—that boy’s name was Chip. I don’t remember a Chase back then, but I do remember that fateful day with a boy named Chip.

  I was a child, and it was the first time I’d ever heard the “N” word. I never dreamed it was a thing a friend’s mother would say. My family forbade me to ever play with Chip again. But that didn’t stop us. We’d sneak and play anyway, deep in the marshes by the sound, hidden from the prejudiced eyes of a Jim Crow South. Every summer we would meet and together seek secret hiding places to play to avoid racial trouble. And as we grew, so did our secret love.

  I remember the first time Chip kissed me. We were two preteens, madly in love. It was under a full moon and in the shadows of the marsh trees. He had been sucking on peppermint candy as he rode his bike to meet me. I still taste his wet peppermint lips as I remember kissing them to this day.

  “I do have reason to be angry.” Mother takes a deep breath and shakes her head. She grips the steering wheel and says, “There’s just so much you don’t know, Destiny. That boy’s mother brings back so many hurtful memories for our family—our whole community. Memories that have made me hate this place as much I hate white folks. I couldn’t stand coming here.”

  “I always thought it was the sand.”

  “No, it’s the crackers!” she hisses.

  “Mother, please. I hate that word, and I don’t think—”

  “Well, it’s not only that you don’t think, my dear; you just don’t know all the things that your father and I have protected you from all these years. We never wanted to see you hurt by some of life’s realities. Clearly, we’re not doing a very good job of that anymore. But trust me; that Fern McKenzie would rather see you swinging by your neck from a tree than making it in this world, much less being all chummy with her police son.”

  Her words sting so badly that they bring tears to my eyes. I do not want to believe that my own mother is just as hateful and racist as Chase’s. I can’t fathom that the little boy I admired so much—the boy I was never allowed to play with, even speak with, and was told to forget—was actually a young Chase. Is Chip really there inside Adonis somewhere?

  “Oh, your father and I protected you all right.” Mother is relentless in making her point. “Like that time you couldn’t go to Tanglewood Park. Do you remember that?”

  “Remember it? Couldn’t go? You wouldn’t let me! I never forgave you for that. It was such a big deal—our class picnic. We were all so excited and couldn’t wait to go to Tanglewood Park. And for some reason, you took me out of school that day to go visit Grandma and Grandpa instead. Do you know how much it hurt me the next day to have to listen to my classmates share all the good times they had at the park without me? I was the only one in the class who didn’t go.”

  “Because you couldn’t go!” Mother snaps. “You were the first and only colored child in that kindergarten.”

  “Yeah, and …?” I hate it when she uses the “C” word.

  “Well, do you also recall that little note your teacher pinned on your sweater the day before the field trip?”

  “Yes, I remember how excited and proud I was when she pinned it on me. It was probably one of those reminders of what to pack, what I should wear, when to meet the bus—if you had let me go!”

  “Ha!” Mother shakes her head and rolls her eyes as if I still have no clue. She stares off somewhere, where the memories still haunt her. “My darling, let me tell you exactly what that little note read.” She leans in. “It said, ‘Destiny will not be allowed to attend the class picnic tomorrow because Tanglewood Park’s policy does not allow coloreds or Jews.’”

  “What?” I say in utter disbelief. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  But the look in my mother’s eyes says she is not. She is telling the brutal truth, and I see that it hurts her as much as it does me.

  “That’s unbelievable, Mother. And all this time … I thought …”

  “Yes, you thought your mother was an ogre, when I was only trying to protect you. Your father and I desperately tried to hide those terrible things from you. But it was a part of the times, and they were some dangerous times—and not much has changed. We were among the first of colored families to integrate the all-white schools and all-white neighborhoods, and a lot of times we had far more education and money than they did, which
made it even tougher for us, because they resented that. But we persevered by knowing which side of the road to stay on and which kind of troubles to stay out of.”

  “So my being friends with Chip—or Chase, or whoever—is trouble?”

  “Well, in times like that we just couldn’t take a chance, Destiny. It could be a life-or-death matter. Racism ran rampant down here. It still does to this day, if you ask me. Remember that laws may change but some attitudes don’t. So our family, along with the McKenzies, all agreed that the two of you could never see each other again. It was too much trouble, especially after that ugly day when his mother showed herself on your grandfather’s beach like that! Oh, we vowed to do whatever it took to keep you away from that boy and that trash he calls family.”

  “Oh, Mother …” I am disturbed beyond words. “How could you?”

  “Well, what did you want us to do? Feed you to the wolves? Just give our daughter away to a poor white trailer-park boy? Oh no. No way. Not under our watch. We did what was right.”

  “What? Being racist and classist? And so what do you want me to do now, Mother? Not be his friend because he grew up the poor boy of racist parents when he has been nothing in the world but kind and accepting of me? Yes, what his mother did was wrong—it was very wrong—but what you are doing is wrong too. Don’t you see that? And sometimes attitudes do change, Mother. What you are doing to poor Chase after all these years is horribly unfair. If anybody’s attitude should change, maybe it’s yours. Really, Mother, why should Chase be held accountable for that? The past ignorance of his parents does not define who Chase is today. Why should either of us be punished for the ignorance of our parents?”

  Mother shoots me a look like a dart. “Now, don’t you go disrespecting me too!” she hisses as we pull up to the beach house. She slams on the brakes and comes to a skidding halt. Frustrated, she throws the gear into park and sits there, breathing hard and blinking.

  “Mother, look, I’m not in kindergarten anymore. I’m a grown woman now. I can make my own decisions—right or wrong—whether you like them or not. I can make my own choices—”

  “And what? You choose Chip?”

  “Chase!”

  “Whoever!”

  “Exactly!”

  I cannot muster the strength to argue with Mother anymore, as I am too distracted, noticing that the rental car is still not back, which means Garrett has still not returned home. Where in the world is my husband?

  I look across the stubby brush leading to the highway in hope of catching a glimpse of Garrett heading home in the rental car, but all I see across the blades of blowing sea grass is the trailer park, where the forbidden boy once lived next to the shady marshes where we hid to play. I realize at this moment that the boy and the bittersweet memories of our forbidden love still live in my heart today. I somberly remember all I have long tried to forget.

  “Well, looks like Garrett is still on the lam.” Mother sucks her teeth and shakes her head as she grabs her bags and gets out the car. “You really know how to pick ’em, Dee. You really know how to pick ’em.”

  I hold my tongue and my bags and walk up the stairs to the house. Aunt Joy is inside watching TV.

  “Hey, Aunt Joy. Garrett never came back, huh?”

  “Yes, he came back,” Aunt Joy says with a troubled look in her eyes. “But then he left again. Said they had an emergency at work, and he felt it better that he help out there than stay here with all the tension. He says he left you a note.”

  “Mm-mm-mm.” Mother shakes her head again. “Well, I sure am glad your father slept through it all. He is not going to like this one bit.”

  “Well, Mother, he’s the one who told Garrett he could leave!”

  “Well, he didn’t really mean it. I swear, I wonder about that husband of yours.”

  “You don’t like my husband because he stands up for himself. You don’t like my friend because he is white and was poor and grew up in a trailer. What do you like, Mother?”

  I could not care less about the look of anger growing on my mother’s forever unappeasable face. I could not care less about anything right now. I go to the bedroom that I was to have shared with my husband for what was to have been a wonderful, relaxing, and bonding holiday weekend. I fling myself across the empty bed that still smells like Garrett. There’s a note stretched across the pillow that reads:

  Hey, baby—

  I couldn’t wait for you any longer. Didn’t want your Pops to be awake when I left. The new guy, Stevie, is freaking out on the desk and he really needs me, so I’m going to help out at work while you hang with your family. It’s better this way. Take your time, and get some rest and beach time. Sorry for the way things turned out with your folks.

  Love you,

  Garrett

  So much for that chance to talk about saving our marriage.

  I roll over and cry myself to sleep.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Garrett calls first thing this morning to let me know he made it back to New York safely and was already at work on the assignment desk this Memorial Day. He claims he worked the overnight shift last night and was back at it again today, as he was gathering footage of the holiday celebrations from across the country. I told him he should have stayed for the annual Topsail Island fish fry today. He found that quite amusing.

  Mother and Daddy have gone to the mainland for antique shopping, while Aunt Joy is sitting on the beach under a big umbrella, shaded from the sun. She is totally absorbed in another juicy romance novel. I can always tell when she gets to the good part. She nibbles her nails. I decide to join her, as I could use a relaxing day to catch a few rays on the beach.

  It is a beautiful afternoon. The sun’s reflection sparkles on the ocean, dancing on the lazy blue sea. A few porpoises play just yards from the shore. I remember swimming right along with them when I was a kid. The pelicans soar above in Top-Gun formation. I appreciate the simplicity of life and nature down here, away from the madness of New York. I find I have sorely missed Topsail Island.

  “I knew he’d find a way to get that gal!” Aunt Joy chuckles as she snaps closed her novel and moves out from under the umbrella to sit on the sand next to me. “Oooo—that was a good one.”

  “You love your romance, Aunt Joy.”

  “Yes, I do.” She smiles and turns her face up toward the sun.

  We sit here catching rays, not saying a word, just enjoying this peaceful moment by the sea, dreaming of romance. Finally, Aunt Joy breaks the silence.

  “So … your mother tells me you ran into our fine police chief again.”

  “Yes, but try convincing her that he’s fine,” I say with a sneer. “Aunt Joy, Mother has this crazy idea that the police chief is that little boy on the beach that day—remember Chip? The boy I couldn’t see? Well, I keep telling her the chief’s name is not Chip; it’s Chase.”

  “Well, he changed it,” Aunt Joy interrupts matter-of-factly. Then, she turns to look me in the eye. “Chase is that little boy, Destiny. And no matter how much of a fool his mother may be, Chase is not at all like that. He’s a good man. I don’t care what your mother says.”

  “So it’s true. It’s him.”

  “Yes, Destiny, and unless you got hit by a bad case of denial, you know in your heart it’s him. And I’m glad the two of you can finally meet again today, under different circumstances, when things aren’t as … well, crazy, you know. You don’t have to pretend you don’t know each other anymore. It’s a new day.”

  I feel my heart and head pounding as fiercely as the sea. A rush of memories and emotions come flooding back, set free by what I was pretending not to know. I also feel tricked by fate. Was it easier not knowing?

  “He sure had a thing for you, kiddo,” Aunt Joy says with a wink. “And I want you two to be friends, to stick together this time. He’s a good man, and you never know when you might nee
d a police chief on your side.”

  “Why?” I ask, even though my heart leaps at the idea.

  “Well, one day I won’t be here anymore, and I’ll leave Tranquility to you. This will one day be your home to carry on for the family, and I want to leave here knowing you’ll be okay. That you have a community of your own.”

  Oh, Aunt Joy …” I feel a sting of tears at the thought of Aunt Joy going anywhere. “Please don’t talk that way. You’re going to be here forever. Plus, the beach house should go to Mother and Daddy.”

  “Huh!” Aunt Joy scoffs. “Your parents would much rather sell this place for a king’s ransom and a one-year tour of Europe. No, I want Tranquility to remain in the family, and only someone who loves it as dearly as you can do that. And I want you to have a good friend in Chase. I know he’ll look after you and Tranquility.”

  “But we haven’t known each other since we had to hide to play, remember?”

  “Yes, but he still came ’round here every once in a while, asking for me but really looking for you. Your folks had a fit when they finally figured that out. Your mother told him to never come back and made me promise I wouldn’t tell you he was looking for you. Well, now you’re both grown, and I can tell you whatever I want, and you can do whatever you want. I hope you’ll be friends.”

  I’m so stunned I can’t answer. My heart’s beating fiercely; I fear Aunt Joy might hear it. My head is in a whirlwind.

  “Life is a funny thing, isn’t it, Deedle Dee?” Aunt Flo muses, looking out over the ocean. “Time just keeps moving on. Hm. It’s a new day, Destiny; it’s a new day.”

  “I guess so,” I respond.

  “Well, I’m going in now, kiddo.” Aunt Joy gathers her belongings. “Don’t stay out here turning into a crispy critter all day. Don’t you have a fish fry to go to?”

  “Yes. Yes, I suppose I do,” I say. “Don’t you want to go?”

  “Oh, no.” She waves her hand. “I need to stay right here and rest a bit.”