by Jen Lowry
I couldn’t speak anymore. She wanted me to say who I thought I was when I’d always questioned that. Daddy kept reminding me that I wasn’t their momma. He told me to be me. But who was I?
Ray padded down the hall, looking handsome and tired.
“Are you okay?” I asked, sadness still overwhelming me heavy. He didn’t deserve my weight. I’d sink him to the bottom of the ocean if he didn’t watch out.
“You’re asking me that?” He sat down on the couch beside me, and I slid closer. “These past three days have had to be so awful for you.”
“Can you pray with me?”
“Yes, baby.”
He got down on his knees and leaned against the oak coffee table. I followed him, my head lowered, and my eyes closed. I didn’t think I’d be able to speak a word to the Lord. He would have to take my attempt, Ray’s words, and my heart. That was all I had to give.
Ray prayed for peace, for comfort, for care, for Maize’s deliverance. Through the prayer, I saw no images, only a white peace behind my eyelids. I fought against the thoughts wanting to cave in on me and take over the light of prayer that was hovering above me. I didn’t know how I would be able to sleep, because sleep would mean closing my eyes away from prayer and from Ray’s soothing voice.
“I don’t want to go to bed.” I yawned, and Ray laughed. “I love that,” I said.
“What?” He smiled.
“You. Your laugh. Your smile. The way you make me feel like I can face anything.” I squeezed his hand.
“I heard you and Momma talking earlier.” I swatted at him, and he kissed my cheek. “I wasn’t eavesdropping. It’s a small house.”
“And was it entertaining for you?”
“Every day I want you to know who you are. You’re a woman filled with the Spirit of the Lord. You’re the love of my life, my soul mate that completes me. You’re a sister to three kids who will always love you and look up to you, no matter where they sleep tonight. You are a daughter to a man who has depended on you to be more than should have ever been placed on you. I just want you to know that you can be all those things and so much more.”
“If you want to keep giving me these confidence talks every single night, I think I’ll allow you to do so.” I kissed his cheek.
“If you ever feel like you’re losing ground, you’ve got all of us. The Lord first, the little ones, my family, the church. You’ll never have to stand alone, trust me.”
“I’ll try to believe you on that.”
“You don’t trust me, and you’re about to marry me? I’m wounded, woman,” he joked back.
“The one person I trusted with all of my heart and soul turned out to be a man I don’t even recognize. That has shaken me up a little—well, a lot. My core is rocking.” That was an understatement.
Mrs. Sunshine came down the hallway in a bright yellow robe, with big blue slippers on her feet.
“Rock yourself on to sleep, Sweet Potato. You’ve got school in the morning. Ray is going to drive you and pick up the kids, and you’ll be off work until you can get yourself to feel better.”
“I don’t want off. I need to earn my keep.” I stood up, feeling an emptiness at the mention of school without Maize. I hated the thought.
“Earn your keep. Ain’t you soundin’ a trip. Go on to bed, Sweet Potato.” Mrs. Sunshine kicked out her foot at me, and her slipper flew right off. We all laughed as I headed off to bed.
Surprisingly enough, I slept without dreaming and woke up feeling I could face whatever lay ahead. Maybe some pretty major prayers had been spoken over me. Whatever it was, I needed it to keep going if I was to make it in this new world.
Ray made me breakfast as I sat at the little corner table in their kitchen.
“Why the special treatment this morning? You know we could’ve stepped on through to the Soul Food kitchen.”
I squinted at the walls like I could see straight through them with x-ray vision. I could make out the shadows of life behind that sheetrock. Without stepping foot into it, I could still feel the vibrations of that miracle-working place pumping through my heart. What did that farm mean to me now? Would I be able to leave a place I’d grown to love so much?
“I’ve gotta make that walk down to the bus stop. I better get going.” I began to clean up the dishes, and Ray stopped me.
“I didn’t want you riding the bus anymore. I’d rather drive you. It will give us more time to see each other, and you’ll get to spend more time with the kids this way.” He pointed to his watch. “We better hurry, though.”
Seeing Bell and Bean all dressed in their Dream clothes and clear-eyed—well, it made my heart feel good.
I pulled on Bell’s hair bow. “You guys are looking mighty sharp.”
She had never looked prettier, with her little plaits and matching barrettes. Bean was polished up squeaky clean. I wanted to tell them how much I missed them, but I didn’t want to start sad on a Monday morning. I didn’t want to ask them if they’d seen Daddy, either. Maybe it was best if we all had a little break from him until we could sort this mess out.
I frowned. “Lookie who’s here.”
When we pulled up at the drop-off circle, Daddy was in the corner lot, talking to the principal. His disheveled frame slumped with weariness. He still had on his same clothes from the day before, and he looked like he hadn’t slept a bit. Served him right.
Ray squeezed my hand. “You have to forgive him, baby. It’s the only way to move forward.”
“What if I don’t want to? What if it’s not fair if I do?” I whispered so the kids couldn’t hear me.
They were already climbing out of the back seat and running full force to their daddy. He couldn’t save them, because he couldn’t even save himself. Maybe that was why he ultimately gave them away. He knew he didn’t have it in him anymore to be Superman. Maybe Daddy was ready for retirement.
“If you don’t forgive, your heart grows a little bit colder by the minute. We’d miss out on so much if you let it freeze, baby. We’ve got many miles to go.”
“Stay on, brother … roll on, sister … just for a little while … we’ve got miles to go,” I sang to him before kissing him on the cheek and sliding out the door.
“I’ll be here at three,” Ray called out. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Everyone was looking in our direction, and I could tell the teachers already had wind of what had happened to my baby brother. We were big news, the lot of us.
Daddy motioned me over, and I felt my bookbag droop off my shoulder and down my back. My pride began to fall like old granny pantyhose. “Sweet Potato, let’s go on into the office,” the principal requested.
“Well, Daddy, find him?” I questioned.
“No!” I could see the stubbornness in his eyes. He wasn’t going to give up. Maybe he would after I told him what I saw.
“Mr. Jones, have a seat here.” Principal Newberry directed Daddy and me to sit down. “I hate to hear this about Maize. He seemed like he was off to a positive start here. I spoke with some of his teachers over the weekend, and they didn’t see any signs.”
“He’s turned,” I spoke quietly. “He’s theirs.”
“Not if I have a say in it.” Daddy balled his hands up into fists.
“Sweet Potato, you saw him?” the principal asked me.
Well, I didn’t want to have to tell it to Daddy directly. He could hear it second hand.
“Yes, sir. He’s wearing the signs of the East Coast Grims. They chased me away, and he told me never to go back down there again. And I promise you, I never will. Maize is lost. He’s decided, and there is nothing we can do about it now.”
It all came out so fast. I figured if I said it like that, it wouldn’t have time to settle down into the deep parts of me—like I could run these words off like a line in a play. That was how I was going to get through this. I was an actor in some elaborate production about street life.
Drugs, homelessness, poverty, gangs … I was the epitome of the street. Look up “street” in the dictionary, and it would be on the same page as “Sweet Potato.” Ironically, Webster already put us on the same page. How considerate.
“What did he say, Sweet Potato?” Daddy was so shamed he couldn’t even look me in the eye. “Was he okay?”
“I told him that you gave the kids away, and that still didn’t make him come back with me.” I challenged him to look at me.
“If that didn’t bring him back, nothing will.” Daddy stood up. “Well, Mr. Newberry, I want you to look after the rest of my children.” He held out his hand to me. “You take care of yourself.”
“What are you planning to do, sir?” The principal shook his hand when I would not reach out to him. I would show him no support. He would have to live with what he had done to us.
Daddy said, “I’m going on ahead to get some things ready.”
“You gonna learn how to milk a cow?” I chided. “Too late for that, Daddy.”
The principal was already calling in the guidance counselor. I was sure they thought I needed to be talking to somebody right about now. But they didn’t know me. All I needed to do was talk to the Lord. I would have a direct call with Him later.
“It’s never too late to walk the right road,” Daddy said.
“But this time you’re going to be walking it alone,” I said.
I pushed past him and ran down to my first class. I made it right before the bell rang. How was I to face the looks? As the eyes of some of the students met mine, I realized that I might not be the only one who had lost a brother to the Grims. Or maybe some were taken over by The Five. I could see looks of understanding and fear. One student left the room once Ms. Joann began the discussion on French and Indian War. I wondered if they couldn’t bear to be in the same room as me, because I reminded them of their own little street soldier or someone close to them they’d lost.
My day at The Dream was out of focus. It was like I was looking through a camera lens that needed repair. Colors were distorted. Ray was all I wanted to see. Those kids came and held my hand, one on each side, as we waited for Big Red to drive around after the last bell rang. He was here right on time.
“How was your day?”
He asked the kids, not me. I guessed he knew better than to ask how my day had been. I sat back, intently watching their little faces as they recapped every single detail, memorizing every nuance, every rise and fall of their chests.
Ray slowly pulled up to the church. Pastor was out fixing the sign. It read, “Want to know the game plan? Come inside for details.”
“Well, hallelujah. Let’s all clap.” I turned away.
“It’s choir night,” Bell reported. “Can you come, Sweet Potato?”
“No, baby. I have to work. I’ll see you afterward, though. Why don’t you stop in for some …” I almost said pie, but I caught myself. Everything was going to remind me of Maize.
“We’ll ask Mrs. Patty,” Bell said quietly. “I’m sure she won’t mind.”
Ray opened his door and helped the kids out. He walked over and started talking to the pastor, who raised his hand to give me a wave. I had to turn my head.
When I turned back, Bell and Bean had already disappeared behind those big, wooden double-doors. A haven for them in a church home. I had to find some peace in that, knowing the spirit of my Bell. I bet her inside brass bells were ringing with the eternal joy that seemed to spring from her inner well. I bet she was at some deep kind of peace now. How could I ever take that away from her? No matter how I tried to figure things out, she belonged in a place like this, to people like this. I knew it, even though it was the hardest thing I’d ever have to accept in my life.
Be free, Bell. Be free.
“They seemed okay,” Ray said. “You did good raising them.”
Maybe the road had made them both a little tougher than I’d imagined. Or maybe they were so filled with the love of the Lord that they could see good in even the worst of times.
I spoke my mind, “Well, I’m not okay. I don’t think I can go back to school. It’s not right there anymore. I don’t have a purpose there.”
“What was your purpose there before, Sweet Potato?” He was already pulling into the driveway.
“Making sure Maize knew I was fighting for something worth having. I’d always told him that education would get us out of our tramp life. We could upgrade with that piece of paper. Maize will never be back in a school, and I know that for sure. That seems enough for me to finish the race early.”
I threw my books into my room and quickly changed into my work clothes.
Ray followed me through the kitchen door and out into the dining room. I stopped, trying to let the place take me in again. To feel that sense of belonging, that comforting vibe. The rhythm was still the same, but my dancing had long dried up. I made rounds as he followed me, and no matter how I tried to shoo him away, he would not leave me alone.
“What?” I yelled, and the whole place got quiet. “You want me to tell you I’m gonna stay in school? You want me to tell you I have a future?”
I threw down the pad at his feet. “I ain’t got nothing to live for now except …”
The words you never left my mouth. Glass shattered, customers screamed, and surreal flashes of color flew before me, knocking me senseless. Ray fell backward, hitting a bar stool, reaching out to me as he scrambled across the floor on his belly. I felt my body being jerked unnaturally hard as hands gripped my sides and my hair. My head was wrenched back. Tears stung my eyes from the force of the tugging.
I knew something was happening, but I couldn’t conceive what it was. I knew I wasn’t inside the restaurant any longer, and I watched as my feet dangled over the busted doorframe, my leg catching on the glass. Blood began oozing down my calf. I should have screamed in pain, but I felt nothing.
He called out my name, and it rang in my ears in slow motion—a drawled-out name that lasted twenty syllables. Then rat-a-tat-at-a-tat. Shots fired? No. They were toward Soul Food. I couldn’t see anymore, because cloth was now covering my face. I welcomed the darkness.
I was pushed into a vehicle, and my body bumped into something hard and warm. They took hold of me, and I couldn’t find my voice to call out to them. Kill me, I wanted to tell them. Just get it over with. Don’t drag this out.
Nobody in the car answered my silent pleas, but they were reenacting every single move that they’d made. I heard the young voice of the driver. I would bet my life that I was in an Impala—and I wouldn’t even mind losing.
As soon as the vehicle stopped, I was pushed out forcefully, my knees cracking to the curb, and I could feel my feet moving sideways in the grate of a drain hole. Let me sink down under to the sewer system. My hands were scratched and bleeding. Burning sensations ran on my arms, and my leg was starting to throb. They dragged me by my hair like I was some kind of animal, my body flipping and turning. I didn’t try to fight or resist them. I knew there was no point.
“How many did you take?” A sneer came from the shadows.
“This one makes the fifth one,” a voice said. “I claim two. I got the most hits.”
Vomit rose in my throat, spilling out of the side of my mouth, staining the gag.
“I got this one for Tiny.”
He ripped away the gag, allowing me to gasp air and push my sickness out.
“My, my, my,” the voice said, as my vision began to clear. He tied my hands behind me. My shoulders strained, the muscles feeling they could snap any second.
I was in what looked like a metal box. The Devil was whispering to me I would die today in this shed. I told that voice to get behind me. If I died, the Lord would take my soul.
“Ain’t that the girl that come the other day looking for Shaq?” the driver questioned.
“Oh, that’s Shaq sista. You claimed the wrong girl. You were supposed to get that Denise girl. Joker’s sista. Jok
er’s the one that done in Tiny. She’s the target, and now you’ve marked this one. You know what that means. Once a mark, we got to finish it.”
“This isn’t Denise,” another one said, coming closer. “Yeah, that’s Shaq’s sister. Look at them eyes. But he can’t take back his rights to the girl. You know the game. He called her. It doesn’t matter if it was Shaq’s mother. He called her in tribute, and now she’ll have to answer to Charon.”
“But …”
Before the boy could finish his sentence, he was shoved violently out the swinging door.
The door slammed, and I heard a master lock click on the other side. My face hit the wooden-plank floor, and I closed my eyes to oblivion, drowning in the river Styx. The ferryman was coming to claim my soul.
Four dead, I heard them boast. Oh, Lordy. I would be the fifth. Five. What had I said last to Ray? I screamed at him—something I’d never done before. I lost it with him and told him that I had nothing to live for. Oh, Lordy. I prayed he knew what I was about to say to him. I was going to tell him I had nothing to live for except him. But I didn’t get to finish my words.
What had I told the kids last? I didn’t tell them I loved them when they were getting out of the car. I mocked the Lord. Oh, God. Even though Daddy didn’t ask for my forgiveness, I knew I’d have granted it to him eventually. But I was going to act it out for a while, stubborn as a mule, letting him sweat it. For what? When I knew that I would end up forgiving him in the end, why couldn’t I have just thrown my arms around him, like Bell? Why couldn’t I have told him I knew why he gave them away—because he knew what they needed more than even me? He could let them go because he loved them that much.
My mind went to that sinner on the cross. I was more of a sinner than him. I had faith right in the palm of my hand, and I let it slip through my fingers like a fine sand. Jesus promised that man He would see him in paradise. But I needed another chance at this life, so I could say all I ever needed to and more.