Under the Peach Tree

by Charlay Marie

  “What is the prognosis?” Norma asked the doctor. Worry lines formed on her forehead.

  “We’re still running tests, but it looks to be cancer related,” the doctor somberly stated. “We noticed a lump on her leg. It could be a tumor. A lump that big could block off blood from getting to the brain, which could’ve resulted in her fainting. But these are only theories. We need to keep her for a few days.”

  “Can you operate on her leg?”

  “Mrs. May is an older woman, and with a lump that size an operation would be detrimental to her health. If, say, the lump we found is cancerous, surgery could also increase the risk of the cancer spreading. I’ve seen cases like these where the leg needed to be amputated, however, that was for a much younger patient.”

  “Okay, so what if it is cancerous and you won’t do surgery? What would be the next step?” Norma asked.

  “I’d prefer to wait to discuss that further once we know for sure what the diagnosis is.”

  “Okay, how soon will you know?”

  “Perhaps a couple more days,” he said. “And I’m sorry, but visitation is prohibited at this point. You will need to wait to see her tomorrow.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  The doctor looked at me for the first time. “She is in critical condition. Her heart gave out on her twice due to the blood being cut off from traveling to her heart. We need you to wait patiently until we decide what steps to take.”

  “When were you going to tell us that?” I asked, fuming.

  “Will you call us when you have any update?” Norma asked, ignoring my question. The doctor seemed content to ignore it too.

  “As soon as we have information, you will be updated.”

  Turned out, Momma May, in fact, did have a tumor the size of a baseball on her leg. The dresses she wore hid it well. I was shocked to learn that she kept it from us. I didn’t understand why a woman of God would be deceiving. Dante said it was probably because she wanted to spare us the pain of knowing how much pain she was in. Momma May was never the type to complain, which made it hard to know when she was suffering.

  I hated knowing that she suffered.

  I spent the next few days making sure everything was perfect for her when she came home. I was praying it would be in a few more days. But it wasn’t.

  The doctor said they needed to keep her in the hospital longer. They had multiple specialists looking into ways to remove the tumor from her leg, and so far they were unsuccessful.

  I really began to take my prayers seriously. I began spending more time reading the Bible firsthand, praying to understand how God works. Praying that He’d heal Momma May the way Jesus healed the blind. There was a story in the Bible where Jesus healed a man by saying, “You are forgiven.” I took that as meaning it was the man’s sin that made him sick and the forgiveness of that sin was what healed him. Maybe Momma May needed to be forgiven for something.

  I could’ve been wrong. I never really understood how God worked.

  Two dreadful weeks passed by slowly, a sad song on repeat. Every night I dreamt of sitting in an old, dark room as an old phonograph played in the corner. I wished to move, to turn the formidable music off, and to open the curtains so that sunlight would shine through. But the phonograph never cut off; it only collected more dust as I stayed trapped.

  They say dreams are your subconscious thoughts. If that was true, I must’ve felt trapped in real life. In a sense, I was. There was nothing I could do to help out Momma May. I was helpless and afraid. I felt like every day was a dark day where no sunshine dared to intrude.

  Just when I thought life couldn’t get any worse, it did. And just when I found a woman who cared about me, one who helped me find Jesus, the one who took me in and became my momma, the one who constantly helped me try to get passed my own past, this happened. I was back at square one. But was I? If Momma May passed away, at least I could say I grew as a person. I could say I once knew the most beautiful woman God ever made.

  But I couldn’t stop wondering what would happen to me if she did pass away. Where would I go? How would I manage? Would I go back to my old ways of being fast and angry at the world? I hadn’t really noticed the subtle changes I’d made in myself. Like the fact that I no longer felt the urge to act on impulse, doing crazy things like the time I stole Faith’s dress. I didn’t have a need to be the center of attention and that was because I felt loved. Yes, I made a pass at Dante, but only because my defenses were weakened. I was hurting and I needed some kind of affection. Dante happened to be the one who was there.

  I wondered how Dante would manage if Momma May passed away. He’d known her much longer than I had. He was attached to her. I knew he’d take it harder than me. I could only imagine the thoughts that ran through his head when he learned about the tumor in Momma May’s leg. He seemed quieter, on the edge, a fragile glass on the verge of cracking. But he held it together; he stayed strong for the both of us.

  He came to the house every day at the same time and we played checkers, the way he and Momma May did. And then we’d go inside and watch TV, usually Momma May’s favorite soaps. I’d cook and we’d busy ourselves with things to keep us sane. The routine helped; we needed the normalcy with all the chaos around.

  Momma May finally was stable enough for us to visit. Dante drove us up there one day. I allowed him to visit her first while I sat in the waiting room, watching a couple get news of a death in the family from the doctor.

  It was almost as if it was in slow motion. The doctor came from behind a door with a morose expression on his face. The couple jumped up, holding each other’s hands with begging, desperate eyes. I couldn’t make out what the doctor was telling them but I knew it was bad. The woman fell back into the man; his arms closed around her as he lowered his head. The woman’s eyes stayed planted on the doctor as she cried.

  “My baby!” she screamed. “My baby!”

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up and left the waiting room. I didn’t pay attention to where I walked. I just noticed families leaving hospital rooms as the nurses passed as they rushed along. I hoped they never had to go through what the couple earlier went through. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, not even John or Momma.

  What if that would soon be Dante and me crying over the unfortunate news that Momma May passed away? I shook the thought out of my head.

  I found my way back to the waiting room just as Dante was taking a seat. He stood up when he saw me. “She’s awake. See her. It’s room 306.”

  I nodded in relief. I hadn’t realized how shaken up I was from seeing that couple lose someone close, a baby. I knew the feeling; I’d lost my own. I’d lost everything and yet was given more. It reminded me of the story of Job, who in the Bible lost everything: his house, his riches, and his family. But God gave everything back to Job tenfold. God is always faithful.

  I was beginning to understand how He worked in my own life.

  When I entered room 306 Momma May was barely conscious, but her eyes lit up once she heard me. My heart warmed, forgetting all of the negative things that weighed it down. I ran to her side and kissed her cheek. I ran a hand through her beautiful silver-white hair the way I always did. I loved brushing the curls and watching them spring up as if I’d never straightened them. A tear escaped my eye and I watched as Momma May struggled to lift her hand.

  “Why are you crying, child?”

  I loved her sweet Southern accent, much stronger than my own. “I missed you.”

  “Wipe those tears and rejoice. It’s what Jesus would say. Rejoice for having another day with me. Rejoice.”

  I smiled. “That’s why I’m crying. It’s happy tears.”

  She nodded. “You been keeping my house up?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Dante said so. God has been good to me bringing that boy into my life.” She coughed. “He’s making sure everyone is doing their job at the church, called in pastors to preach in my spot. I’ve had so many phone calls from my members
praying over me. I’m sure they’d be up here if I could have visitors besides family. Heck, they are my family.” Momma May laughed. Her voice was croaky. “And I am truly blessed to have you, Hope. I appreciate you keeping my house in order.”

  “No, I appreciate you. I owe you that much, Momma May.”

  She smiled. “You’re turning into a fine young woman, Hope. Everything about you is growing, do you see it?”

  I hadn’t really thought about it.

  Momma May continued. “You’re growing spiritually and emotionally. God has been blessing you abundantly. For a girl to come out of the life you did and grow into a fine young woman is a blessing. Hope, I want to see you continue to grow. Get back in to high school, go to college, make something out of your life.”

  “School.” I hadn’t been in so long.

  “What do you want to be in life, Hope?”

  I hadn’t really thought about it. I spent most of my time thinking about the past, never the future. I didn’t have any real talents besides singing. I had no skills, I was an average student, and I had no passion for anything.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, you need to start thinking about it.”

  “Is it because you think you’re gonna die?”

  Momma May’s hands found mine as I studied her face. She had lost a lot of color. Her face had sunken in, and her body looked fragile under the white covers.

  “I’m not thinking about myself, only you and your well-being, Hope. I took you in and promised myself and God that I’d help you grow. I will fulfill that promise. I will serve the Lord, even on my deathbed.”

  “Don’t say that!” I said, tears rushing down my face. “You ain’t on your deathbed!”

  Momma May didn’t say anything for a long time but when she spoke, her voice commanded the whole room. If my eyes were closed, I would have thought it was a much younger, powerful woman.

  “We must always obey the Lord, even when He calls us home. I am not saying it is my time, but when it is, I will go serving the Lord,” she said.

  I didn’t want to talk about her dying so I changed the subject to something I could handle. “What they gonna do about your leg?”

  “There ain’t nothing they can do.”

  “So they just gonna let the cancer spread?” I felt my heart drop.

  “It’s already spread everywhere.”

  I stood at the side of her bed, helpless and angry. I didn’t have the power to cure Momma May. There was absolutely nothing I could do to help her. I prayed every night and grew closer to the Lord, hoping He’d cure Momma May. She was mine. He gave us to each other. Why would He tear us apart so soon?

  I couldn’t contain my anger any longer and ran out of the room, brushing passed nurses until I emerged into the waiting room where Dante sat. He looked up at me but I said nothing. I ran straight past him to the elevators, franticly pressing the arrow button. I looked up at the number at the top of the elevator and noticed it was on floor thirteen, ten floors above.

  I felt Dante’s presence as he approached, but I ignored the urge to turn to him. I wanted to be left alone. I also didn’t want to take my anger out on him. Who knew that when I watched that woman mourn for the loss of her child I’d be feeling a similar pain today? Strange how we all connect through pain and joy. It’s two of the things all humans share.

  “Hope.”

  I ignored him. The elevator had reached the sixth floor. I tapped my foot impatiently, needing to break out of the hospital, needing air. I felt claustrophobic and tried every technique possible to keep myself from freaking out. The elevator door finally opened and I rushed inside. Dante followed.

  I pressed the button and kept my eyes ahead, trying hard not the blink in fear of the tears that were almost tipping over my eyelids. As soon as the door opened, I tried to rush out but Dante grabbed my hand, pulling me back in. He quickly hit a button on the panel that caused the elevator door to close and shut down. He then turned me around to face him and pulled me close, pressing his lips to mine. At first I was shocked and tried to push him away but that didn’t last long. Soon, I joined in the kiss, wrapping my arms around him, lifting up on my tippy toes to be even with him.

  When the kiss ended, I couldn’t speak. Tears streamed freely but Dante kissed them away.

  “Shh,” he said, his voice instantly calming me. I didn’t know what came over us. What changed. It was him, the way he looked at me, with passion, with clarity. “Don’t cry.”

  “Dante, you just sinned.”

  He smiled, his forehead touching mine. “You’ll be my wife one day. It was worth it.”

  I backed away, flabbergasted. “What?”

  “Pastor May prophesied it to me today. She told me that God came to her in a dream and showed her our future. She said we’d get married and that I needed to protect you.” His eyes grew dark as he looked down. “She told me that she won’t be here much longer and that the devil is working hard to destroy you. I have to be your strength and I want to.”

  “Is that why you kissed me?”

  “You needed it. You need affection and love.”

  I blinked a few times, trying to wake up from this dream: one where Dante was strong and sure of himself, a quality he hadn’t possessed until now. Or maybe I just hadn’t noticed it. But I didn’t awaken from a dream. Dante was still in front of me, looking at me. He seemed almost happy. But how could he be happy? Momma May practically told him that she’d die soon. It was just like Momma May to be selfless and think of us when she knew she’d pass away.

  The thought angered me again.

  Dante pressed the button and the door opened. He grabbed my hand and led me out of the elevator. Once we were in his car, he began questioning me. “Why did you run out of the hospital like that?”

  I sighed, not wanting to recall the horror of finding out Momma May would die. But I needed to talk to someone about it. I couldn’t keep holding my pain inside.

  “I ran out because she pretty much said she’d die soon, and I couldn’t handle it. Dante, why?” I started crying. “Why is God doing this? Why does He always take people out of my life? I thought I was like Job! I thought I was gonna be blessed with more than what I lost but I just keep losing.”

  He shook his head. “No, you’re not. You’re winning. We aren’t meant to understand why God operates the way He does. You’ve gained everything.”

  “Momma May is my everything and if He takes her . . .” I couldn’t even finish the sentence.

  “It wasn’t Momma May God blessed you with, it was her love, knowledge, and wisdom that He gave you. But when she passes, He’ll give you the love of another. Me.”

  “I just don’t wanna lose her,” I said, fighting back a round of tears.

  “You’re not losing anything. One day, you’ll be in heaven with her. We are to keep our eyes on the Kingdom.”

  “It’s easier said than done when you can’t even see the Kingdom. I can’t help but to keep my eyes on what’s around me. It’s easier for Momma May because she can’t see!”

  “That’s not true. If you were blind, you’d focus so much more on what’s around you because you can’t see it. You may bump into things, so you have to use all of your senses to get around it. That should’ve taken up her mind alone but, no, she focused even more on God and the Kingdom. She has peace.”

  “Peace? No, Dante. She looked almost dead. She said the cancer spread all through her body! What am I gonna do if she dies? Where am I gonna go?”

  “With me.” He said it so simply. I almost forgot about what he told me on the elevator about how we’d get married. I was too consumed by my own pain to think about it.

  Was it true? Did God really talk to Momma May in her dreams? I’d heard of such things but never experienced it firsthand. Did I even want to marry Dante, the person who annoyed me the most? Well, he also made me laugh, helped me, and had been my right-hand man. We’d kissed, twice. Slept in the same bed (Jesus forgive me). Argued and made
up. He was just as much a part of me as Momma May. I’d taken him for granted. But that didn’t mean I wanted to marry him!

  I looked over at his troubled expression as he drove. The radio played gospel songs in the background. I looked out of my window at the clouds, which gloomed ominously above, threatening to rain down on what I had left. I decided in that moment, I wouldn’t let anyone take Dante from me, even God. He was mine, now. One day soon, he’d be the only thing I had left.

  Chapter 17

  It’s a weird feeling when the Holy Spirit places conviction on the heart. I woke up in the middle of the night in a sweat. I was disoriented, not fully understanding where I was. But reality sank in quickly. I remembered the hospital visit with Momma May and Dante telling me about the prophecy. But something else had been bothering me.

  “Lord Jesus,” I said, and then it hit me.

  My relationship with John. What I did was malicious, revolting, and classless. I seduced John and he wasn’t just any man. He was my mom’s boyfriend. She loved him and I ruined it. Not to mention how John could’ve gone to jail for his relationship with me. I was ashamed.

  “God, please forgive me!” I cried. “Please forgive me of all of the things I did not only to Momma but to Faith.”

  In that moment, I understood what Momma May meant when she said I’d grown spiritually. If someone would’ve asked me months ago how I felt about how I ruined my mother’s relationship with John, I would’ve laughed and said I’d do it again in a heartbeat. But God had been working on me silently ever since I welcomed Him into my heart. He had opened up my mind, especially within the last two weeks. He’d drawn me closer to Him.

  But I still didn’t want to go to church. I just couldn’t fathom it. It was a demon I was still battling.

  Dante and I headed back to the hospital that next day. I was afraid I had offended Momma May the way I ran out of her room the day before. I hoped she understood. I stood outside of her door, composing myself, steadying my breathing. I wanted to be strong for her.