Under the Peach Tree

by Charlay Marie

  I stopped, gathering my thoughts. “I have a twin named Faith. She was always Momma’s favorite. She got gifts for her birthday, for Christmas, and for no occasion at all. All I got were beatings and a reason for why I didn’t get gifts. It was always something. Once, it was our birthday and I forgot to brush my teeth. Momma said I didn’t deserve a gift because I was stupid. Only stupid people didn’t brush their teeth. After that day, I started brushing my teeth four or five times a day, thinking I could earn a gift. It didn’t work. Momma never noticed all of my attempts. So I stopped caring. I was angry and reckless by the time I hit my teens. I’d sneak out of the house to talk to boys. Once, I stole my sister’s homecoming dress because I didn’t get one. I started to blame Faith, secretly hating my own twin for Momma’s actions. Faith tried to make things equal. She’d give me dresses, let me play with her toys, give me her food and say she wasn’t hungry, but it still wasn’t enough.

  “About a year ago, Momma’s boyfriend, John, started living with us. At first I didn’t like him. I don’t like any man I first meet. But he grew on me. He was really sweet and favored me more than Faith. I liked the attention I got from him, so fatherly, so genuine. I don’t know, I guess I confused the love he had for me. I started to get a crush, thinking about him sexually, wanting him all for me. I used to fantasize about us running away together and getting married when I turned eighteen.” I paused, looking at Momma May to see if she was upset yet, but her face was calm.

  “I came on to him and he rejected me like any good man would, but Momma went out of town for a while, and they were goin’ through some things. He was weak and I took advantage of it. We started doing it. I felt happy, alive, free. I felt like a woman. Secretly, I liked knowing what I was doing to Momma. It was a way to release all of my anger I held in for her. I wanted her to find out, to know that I was sleeping with her man. I wanted to see the pain on her face, show her what it felt like to be hurt.” I paused, afraid to admit what I was about to say, afraid I would be judged. I sighed, knowing Momma May deserved the whole truth, and continued. “I got pregnant, something that had never crossed my mind. I didn’t know anything about babies and the symptoms of pregnancy. I used to get sick all of the time. Well, Momma caught on and made me take a test. Everything came to light then. I told her all about the affair. I rubbed it in her face proudly. It felt like a victory.

  “I told John to choose between me and Momma. I thought he would be happy that we were having a baby, but he just stood there, speechless.” I choked on my own words, feeling a rush of emotion surge through me. I squeezed May’s hand, needing strength to continue. “Momma laughed when John chose to stay with her, and then she beat me. She dragged me down her porch steps and kicked me out. I remember Faith just standing there, watching Momma dog me. I thought she would at least cry for me and quote the Bible. I thought she would tell me to stay strong, that God was still with me. But I don’t even know if I believe in Him. Faith got to go to church when we were little. I wasn’t allowed to go. The closest I got to church was under the peach tree.” I sniffed. “That’s why I don’t like church. That’s why I don’t go, because I felt like God never loved me. God never came to my house to save me, why should I go to His?”

  I sat there crying softly, hoping May wouldn’t wake up. I could’ve imagined it, but I felt May tightened her grip around my hand. I could’ve sworn she was trying to comfort me. Perhaps that was her way of letting me know that she was there for me, even if God wasn’t.

  Chapter 12

  Even though she was asleep, telling May about my past left me open and hurt and in need of speaking with my sister. I wanted to apologize for everything I’d ever done wrong. I hadn’t stopped to think about how she was feeling about everything. I was selfish. Not only had I betrayed Momma, but I betrayed Faith. Her life was probably as ruined as mine was. And I missed her. She was a part of me that I didn’t want to let go. She was my sister. It had been months since I’d last seen her.

  When I got back to May’s house, I went straight to the phone and called home. When Faith answered, it was a whisper. “Hello?” I wasn’t able to say anything because my crying temporarily blocked my speech. “Hope? I thought I told you not to call.”

  “I missed you, Faith.”

  I heard her gasp. “After everything you did, you call to tell me that you miss me?”

  “I do miss you and I’m sorry for everything!”

  Faith paused, making me fear she had hung up, but then I heard her breathing. “John left. Hope, is the baby okay?”

  “No, I lost it,” I said barely above a whisper, but she still heard me.

  “I’m sorry.” She choked on her apology.

  “It ain’t your fault,” I told her, but in a way, it was. She didn’t have to tell Momma that I was pregnant by John’s baby. She picked Momma over me, just like John had done.

  “You’re right; it’s your fault. Hope, if you didn’t go sleeping with Momma’s boyfriend, none of this would’ve happened.”

  “I don’t need you pointing fingers at me,” I told her.

  She sighed. “Hope, you messed my life up. You messed everyone’s life up! I don’t know if I can ever forgive you.” She paused for a moment, and I heard commotion in the background. “I gotta go. If Momma catches me talking to you she gonna change our number. Don’t call back.”

  “Faith! Who are you talking to?” Momma’s voiced crashed through the phone and then the line dropped.

  I hung up the phone, but I also hung on to Faith’s last words.

  Don’t call back.

  My sister didn’t want to talk to me anymore. That fact alone hurt me more than anything Momma had ever done to me. At least I was used to Momma’s rejection, but Faith’s? I couldn’t stomach it.

  Nothing was ever going to be the same.

  The next few days dragged on like a football game in overtime. While Momma May was in the hospital, Norma allowed me to stay in the house by myself. She never gave me a reason why she allowed it; maybe she didn’t think about the consequences of leaving a sixteen-year-old alone in a house, especially when Dante came around. No one had to worry though. I’d never disrespect Momma May’s house.

  I tried to busy myself with helping Dante fix the house, anything to keep my mind off of Momma May’s sickness. Dante’s presence helped. We were both feeling the same way, anxious and worried, hoping the next set of tests showed nothing out of the ordinary. I missed Momma May, more than I missed my own twin. Funny how things worked like that.

  Dante and I were almost finished painting the house. We came up with a plan to restore what was once beautiful about it. I took some money from my savings account and bought soil, plants, and flowers. Dante bought tools and decorations for the porch. He also bought a beautiful wind chime that sounded pure and brought peace whenever the wind shook it up. When I closed my eyes, I’d imagine a tree full of beautiful diamonds and when the wind would blow, the diamonds would slowly fall from the tree, creating that beautiful melody.

  “What do you want to do with the rest of your life?” Dante’s question surprised me. I looked up from the soil into his curious eyes. Unlike me, he was wearing gloves and Momma May’s apron. He had a thing about germs and had no fashion sense to know how ridiculous he looked. I fought back the urge to tease him.

  “Um, I ain’t never thought about it.” It was true. Maybe it was because I never thought a girl like me had much of a future. I thought about Faith’s future and how she’d probably be a preacher’s wife with at least two children and live a long, beautiful life and have plenty of grandbabies. But me? I just didn’t know.

  “What do you like to do?” he asked, eyeing me disgustingly as I played with the soil.

  “Um, I like helping Momma May out around the house . . .”

  “Then maybe you should be a nurse.”

  I laughed. “No, I only like helping Momma May.”

  Dante looked thoughtful. “Do you have any talents?”

  “I guess
I can sing,” I told him, digging my hands deeply into the soil. I liked how soft it felt against my skin.

  “Can I hear you?” he asked, but he seemed more interested with me playing in the dirt. His lips twitched, like he was holding back a laugh.

  “Naw.”

  “Please?”

  I looked at Dante. “I’ll sing if you take that stupid apron and gloves off and grab that soil like a real man!”

  “It’s not soil.” He chuckled. “It’s manure.”

  “What’s that?”

  He laughed and fell backward, landing on the grass. I looked down at the soil covering my hands and arms. It had a weird smell to it that I couldn’t distinguish.

  “What?” I asked, watching him roll in the grass in laughter. “What is it then if it’s not dirt?”

  “It’s . . . horse . . . poop!” he said through his laughter.

  I immediately jumped up, screaming, trying everything to get the poop off of my hands and arms. I began wiping it on my clothes, and then got mad because that wasn’t really effective, and all the while Dante was still on the ground, cracking up.

  No wonder he wore that stupid apron.

  Norma came over later that day. She had taken off of work early and had gone to the hospital to check up on Momma May. Dante was still around the house. We had watched a few movies and he’d attempted to teach me how to play checkers. Norma sat down, across from us, so that she could see us at the same time. I could tell by the tension in her shoulders and bags under her eyes that she didn’t have good news.

  “Momma is up and smiling. She asked about the both of you. I told her about all the work you two managed to get done in two days. She told me to tell you both that she loves you.”

  My heart warmed. Momma May loved me.

  “And then I talked to the doctors.” She sighed, rubbing her hands through her curly hair. “They said they need to keep her for a few more days, run some more tests. They said they found a tumor in her brain. They said it could be noncancerous but that they need to run more tests to be sure.”

  The room around me spun. I could only hear my own heartbeat, which puttered rapidly. Dante put his face in his hands and shook his head. “No,” he said, standing up and pacing the room. “I’ll pray.”

  “But it could be nothing, right?” I asked.

  “Even if it’s nothing, they’ll still want to do surgery . . . and surgery for an old woman is risky.”

  “It’s fine, all we have to do is pray.”

  I tried to ignore the fact that Dante wanted to resort to praying the first time, but now I was angry. I jumped up, turning on Dante. “Pray? You think God is going to give Momma May a miracle because you asked? Do you know how many kids die every day from cancer? I bet they mommas prayed too. And they were left with nothing but disappointment and pain! Praying ain’t gonna help nothing.”

  Norma stood up, pointing her finger at me. “If Momma heard you talk like that, she’d have another stroke. Prayer is everything! Prayer is what got Momma beaten by that mayor and his wife instead of killed! Prayer caused Momma to be able to find a good man who took care of her and a baby that wasn’t his. Maybe if you prayed more yourself, you’d see a change in your situation. You can’t live in this house and not love God, girl.”

  “Good thing it’s not your house. Momma May said I could stay here. Obviously she ain’t got a problem with it,” I yelled, causing Norma to step back. I’d been nothing but nice to her, who was she to judge me?

  Norma shook her head. “I told Momma not to let a heathen into her house but she asked you to live here anyway. You done brought the devil with you and that’s probably why Momma is sick!”

  “I brought the devil with me?” I allowed the tears to flow freely. “I ain’t did nothing but try to be what Momma May needed! I can’t believe this bit . . . this stupid woman gonna play me like that! You don’t know me to be judging me. And you ain’t perfect either. You won’t even tell your own grandma that her house is underwater!”

  “Don’t even try to turn this around on me.” Tears began pouring down her face and she didn’t care. She didn’t even try to wipe them away. “I am trying everything I can to bring her mortgage current. What am I supposed to do?”

  “I still got over half of that money Momma May gave me. You can have it back if it’ll save her house,” I said.

  “No,” Dante chimed in. “No, I overheard Norma talk to the bank before and this house been underwater for a long time! She took a second mortgage out on Pastor May’s house without her knowing. It was free and clear of title! Pastor May doesn’t know she owes anything!”

  I turned to Norma, bewildered.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she said, shaking her head and twitching awkwardly. Suddenly, I noticed the bags under her eyes weren’t from stress but from something else. She was good at hiding whatever it was she was hiding. So good that I thought she was an accomplished black woman. But no, there was something else eating her away, eating at her flesh. How did I not see it before? “I needed the money! My kids needed to eat. It wasn’t my momma’s responsibility to feed my kids! I lost my job. I didn’t have any money. I hate what I did. I hate that I went behind my momma’s back and put a lien on her house. And now this, more medical bills that we can’t pay. Three thousand dollars down the drain! Another mouth to feed!” She paused, bending over, clutching her stomach like she was in pain. When she rose, her eyes were full of fury. “And don’t either of you tell her about the mortgage. It’s none of y’all’s business.”

  “And it ain’t your business where I lay my head, Norma,” I said softly, feeling my own anger be replaced with worry for Momma May.

  “Fine,” she said. She grabbed her purse and left me and Dante to deal with the stress she placed on us both.

  Dante moved to my side, caressing my back, trying to console me. I wanted to push him away, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Instead, I turned into him and cried.

  I cried for Momma May and all of her problems. I cried for losing my twin due to my own stupidity. I cried for the baby that had once been in my stomach, who never had the chance to live and breathe. I cried for John, although he didn’t deserve my tears. And I cried for myself, because there was no one who would.

  I woke up around midnight. Dante’s arm rested around my shoulders and I lay against him. I looked up at him, seeing that he was sleeping peacefully. I didn’t really feel like moving myself. I had been surprisingly comfortable. I rested my head against his chest and fell back to sleep.

  When I woke up for the second time, Dante was missing. I heard commotion coming from the kitchen and then a scream. I jumped up and ran into the kitchen and as soon as I saw what was happening, the fire alarm went off in the house. Smoke almost filled the kitchen. I ran to the back door, opening it up, fanning the room out.

  Dante was standing by the oven, fanning it with an oven mitten. Inside was a plastic plate holding deformed and burnt pancakes. The plastic had melted right through the oven racks and was dripping onto the bottom of the oven. Once that dried, it would be hard to clean up. My eyes lowered as I stared at Dante. I could’ve killed him.

  “What did you do?” I asked while fanning the fire alarm.

  “I was just trying to make us pancakes.” Dante opened the back door wider, allowing more of the smoke to get out.

  I counted backward from ten, and said too calmly, “You don’t cook pancakes in the oven.”

  “Well, nobody told me that.”

  “And you don’t put plastic in the oven.” I had to force the scream to subside when I finished my sentence. “The plastic is melted now! You can spend all day scraping dry plastic out of the oven all you want. Don’t ask me to help. Ugh! Dante, ain’t you got something better to do than sit around an old woman’s house all day? Where’s your friends?”

  “I don’t have any friends here,” he said innocently.

  “Probably because you’re weird!” I said, storming out of the room.

&
nbsp; “I’ll forgive you for saying that.”

  “Whatever!”

  Momma May came home that Monday, looking healthy and happy. I almost cried when I saw her. I wanted to run to her, hug her, and never let go. Norma accompanied her and didn’t even dare to glance in my direction as she walked Momma May upstairs. And of course, Dante was on Momma May’s other side, saying how happy he was that she was home.

  Momma May stopped on the last step and turned toward me; I didn’t know how she knew I was there. Maybe she felt my presence; the blind always had heightened senses. She found my face with her hand.

  “My beautiful Hope.” She smiled and walked inside.

  It was such a small, simple gesture, but it held so much meaning. Momma May was blind. She couldn’t see my outer appearance; she was referring to my heart, my soul. Those with vision can see, but are they truly seeing? Those with hearing, are they really listening? Momma May did. She didn’t need eyes to tell her what her heart could. And her true sight revealed to her that I was beautiful. Maybe I was a good person.

  A lot of the unspoken tension evaporated once Momma May stepped foot in the house. All the demons that dared to threaten all of our sanity fled. There was no room for them in the house of the anointed.

  Chapter 13

  Winter passed by in a blur. The garden Dante and I planted in the front yard bloomed with vibrant colors. Momma May loved the new wind chime Dante had bought her. She could sit outside all day and listen to it. It was the most peaceful state of mind I’d seen her in since the doctors told us that the tumor in her brain was cancerous.

  Remembering that moment and how it shattered our world was something I tried to keep deep inside. I couldn’t fathom bringing it up in full details. Some things are better left unsaid.