My Son's Wife

by Shelia E. Bell

  The night Minister Travis saw her getting ready to leave youth night services without her trusty side kick, Rena, he approached Francesca.

  “Francesca, I’d like to talk to you about the youth rally we’re holding next month. Do you think you could come to my office for a few minutes?”

  For the first time, something about the look on his face, and the urgency in his voice, caused Francesca to search nervously around for some of the other teenagers. Too bad Rena was at home with a bad stomach virus. With Rena by her side, she wouldn’t have been uneasy at all.

  “No, I can’t tonight, Minister Travis.” She saw two members of their youth group standing on the other side of the church parking lot waiting on their rides. Calling out to them, she started walking in their direction. “Safety in numbers,” she mumbled to herself, without understanding why. Only a few steps away from them, a red Taurus pulled up next to the girls. They waved goodbye to Francesca and hopped inside the car.

  Minister Travis bore a satisfied grin as he stood watching the scene play itself out.

  “Francesca, how about that meeting? It won’t take long.”

  “I...I’m waiting on my ride. Daddy told me that since he had to preach at a church across town, my mother would be picking me up tonight.

  “I’m your ride,” Minister Travis remarked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I just spoke with your mother.” The satisfied grin returned. “She’s not feeling well. It sounds like she may be coming down with that stomach virus that’s going around. I believe, she said that her blood pressure was up a little too. She’s home resting. I told her that I would give you a ride. And you know I can’t turn down a request from the First Lady, now can I? Come on, let’s discuss the rally and then I’ll take you straight home. Promise.”

  Francesca reluctantly trailed behind Minister Travis. The church was eerily quiet. In silence, she followed him to his office. He closed the oak door behind the two of them and instructed her to have a seat.

  True to his word, Minister Travis discussed some of the plans he had come up with for the youth rally. Francesca slowly began to feel at ease again as she listened to the excitement in his voice when he shared his ideas with her. She scolded herself for her stupid feelings.

  When Minister Travis stood up and walked over and sat down beside her, she didn’t flinch as he pointed out the various scenes he’d sketched for the rally that was to take place on the church parking lot. She began to give him her feedback on his ideas and threw in some of her own.

  “Well, now, what did I tell you?” he said a half an hour later after they finished finalizing some plans. “That wasn’t so bad, now was it?”

  “No,” she answered coyly. “I really need to go now, Minister Travis. I have some homework that’s due tomorrow that I need to finish tonight,” she remarked.

  “Of course, no problem,” he answered. Walking over to the door, he grabbed hold of the brass door handle. Francesca stood beside him. But instead of opening it, Minister Travis stood in front of her and turned the lock on the door. Her heart felt like it was about to jump out of her throat.

  “What are you doing? Why are you locking the door?” The beat of her heart pounded against her small chest.

  He answered her by placing his hands on her shoulders. Silence followed.

  “Please, don’t hurt me, Minister Travis,” Francesca struggled to free herself from his vice-like grip. Her pleas seemed to only add fuel to his sick flame of desire for the young girl. Muffling her screams with violent unmentionable acts, he pushed the papers off of his desk with one hand and with the other he forced her to lie back on the cold wooden desk. While he ripped away any barrier to his appointed destination, the impenetrable wall appeared, and Francesca retreated into a world void of feeling. She refused to scream or cry. Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry, she ordered herself.

  When he finished satisfying his ugly desire, he kissed her forehead. “Remember, you’re my special girl, my very special girl, Francesca. Now come on, let’s get you home. I don’t want you to miss doing your homework.”

  4

  I do not want the peace which passeth understanding, I want the understanding which bringeth peace. Helen Keller

  Frankie was too terrified and ashamed to tell anyone about that horrible night; not even Rena, her best friend in the entire world. She believed that somehow it must have been her fault. Why else would Fonda and then Minister Travis do the things they did? It had to be her fault. She was a bad, bad girl. No wonder Audrey hated her so much.

  Frankie thought about telling Pastor, but she couldn’t find the courage to do so. He would be so disappointed in her for allowing Minister Travis to do what he had done. And then she would have to tell him about Fonda. He would see how bad she was too. She couldn’t have both of her parents hating her. What would she have said to her father anyway? Would she tell him that she didn’t scream because she just wanted it to be over with? Would she tell him that she didn’t fight back because she was terrified that he would do it to her again and again and again? Who would take her word over a man of God? She was dirty and filthy. No wonder God let them hurt her, because God must have hated her too.

  Eerily similar to Fonda’s actions, after that night, Minister Travis never attempted to harm Frankie again. Quite the contrary, he walked around like nothing had ever happened between them. There appeared to be an unspoken bond between the two of them and he was assured that what had happened would forever remain their little secret.

  Nine months after he raped her, Minister Travis resigned as youth minister at Holy Rock to accept another position at a church on the east coast. Minister Travis was gone, and out of Frankie’s life for good. Fonda was all grown up and busy with her own life. Part of Frankie was elated, but the other part of her felt awful that some other girl might fall victim to the same horrible things that she had endured. Memories of them haunted Frankie from time to time, at night, in place of sleep; but with each day that passed, the wall she’d come to rely on, helped her to push the vile thoughts deeper and deeper inside.

  “Are we still going to study for the English test this afternoon?” Frankie asked as they boarded the bus after school.

  “Yeah. Why don’t you go home with me, and we can fix us some sandwiches.

  “Okay. I’ll call home and tell my mother when we get to your house.”

  An hour passed before they closed their English Lit books and fell back on the bed, chattering about the day’s events.

  Rena placed her arms underneath her head. Frankie moved in closer to her and rested her head innocently on Rena’s elbow.

  Silence filled the room.

  “I hate boys!” Frankie popped up and sat upright on the side of the bed.

  “Where did that come from?” Rena asked with a surprised look on her face. She sat up and positioned herself beside Frankie.

  “I don’t know. I just know that I hate them. I know it might sound weird to you. And I don’t want to freak you out or anything but.”

  “But, what?” interrupted Rena.

  “I think I understand why people sometimes, you know, go the other way.” Frankie said slowly, hesitating as she looked at Rena.

  “Do you mean, go the other way like being gay or something?” Rena’s eyes bulged at the thought as if she was asking herself. “Where is all of this coming from? Why are you talking like this?”

  “I’m just being for real, that’s all.”

  “I can’t believe you’re saying stuff like this. You know better than to even think that way. You won’t go to heaven for sure,” Rena warned.

  “I don’t care. Anyway, I can’t help the way I feel. And don’t you go telling any one about it either,” Frankie retorted.

  “I’m not. You know me better than that. But I do think that you’ve gone off the deep end with this gay talking.”

  “Forget it then. Anyway, I’d better go.” Frankie proceeded to put her books back inside her back pack. Stan
ding up and walking toward Rena’s bedroom door, she reached on the dresser and grabbed her purse.

  Rena moved back up in her bed and crossed both legs Indian style. “Suit yourself. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “See ya.”

  On the way home, Frankie thought about what she said. She didn’t know what possessed her to reveal to Rena that she hated boys. It was the first time she had admitted it to herself as well. Before now, every time the thought had tried to enter her mind, she would dispel it with some other thought. But today, lying next to Rena, she felt differently. Was being a lesbian who she really was? Or was it because of what Fonda had done to her? But Minister Travis had done the same thing. What’s wrong with me? Frankie was confused. On the one hand, the thought of being with a girl didn’t seem wrong. How could that be? Frankie knew that her father taught from his pulpit that homosexuality and lesbianism was an abomination against God. She could hear his thundering voice as he ministered to his growing congregation about the sins of the flesh.

  Pastor Chauncey taught at one of his Sunday sermons, “Don’t let anybody tell you that the Bible is silent about the issues of homosexuality. The word of God has a lot to say about it, and it’s clear. I don’t know what’s up with these young folks today. You can walk up and down the malls, on the streets, in the department stores and you can’t tell the girls from the boys, or boys from the girls. It’s some kind of fad. Like it’s cool to be gay. Well, I’m telling you that it’s a sin and a shame. God is not pleased with the actions of his people.”

  Pastor Chauncey preached while Frankie thought, God ain’t pleased with girls who do unthinkable things to other girls, and He sure isn’t pleased with grown men raping young girls either - but I don’t hear anybody preaching about that.

  In the recesses of her mind, she heard Pastor continue to preach. “In the book of Romans it says, ‘Because of this, God gave them over to shameful lusts. Even their women exchanged natural relations for unnatural ones. In the same way the men also abandoned natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one another. Men committed indecent acts with other men, and received in themselves the due penalty for their perversion. Furthermore, since they did not think it worthwhile to retain the knowledge of God, He gave them over to a depraved mind; to do what ought not to be done.” Pastor’s voice rolled like thunder as his eyes roved over the congregation. “I’m telling you people, you need to wake up. Get your houses in order. The Lord is coming back and you better be ready. Judgment day is swiftly approaching. I don’t know about you…”

  Frankie tuned out the remainder of her father’s message. If he only knew about her thoughts and secret desires, what would he think of his precious little Francesca then?

  The change in Frankie’s personality was somewhat subtle. No one said much of anything when she switched from wearing skirts and dresses everyday to wearing jeans and casual slacks. Not even the lavishly dressing First Lady, mumbled a word of discontent.

  While Rena was into dressing in the latest fashions, Frankie began insisting that everyone call her Frankie not some of the time, but all of the time. It became so bad that she refused to answer if anyone called her anything other than, ‘Frankie’. Francesca was gone forever, as far as she was concerned. No more stupid little Francesca who couldn’t take care of herself. No more crying herself to sleep at night and no more praying to God, who wouldn’t even come to help her when she was being hurt and abused.

  “Frankie, what is up with you? Are you still on that, ‘I hate boys’ tip?” Rena asked her weeks later when her family was over to Frankie’s house grilling.

  “Sure am.” Frankie swirled her neck from side to side then stood back with both hands on her hips near the door. “And if you have a problem with it, then that’s too bad. If I’m your best friend, you should accept me just the way I am.”

  “I do accept you the way you are.” A warning voice whispered in Rena’s head. “I’ve never said anything differently have I, or treated you differently? Right?”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Frankie relaxed a little and sat down on the couch next to her.

  Rena paused. “I’ve been thinking.”

  “Thinking about what?” asked Frankie.

  “How do you know that you hate boys if you haven’t, you know, been with one? Rena’s words trailed off and her shoulders tightened.

  “Because I know that I’m not attracted to any of the boys at school, church or anywhere else. Frankie’s fingertips rubbed the soft Italian leather in a circular motion. “But when I see a girl, it’s like; well I get these butterflies inside.” She pointed to her stomach.

  “Are you serious?” Rena stirred uneasily in her seat. “Uh, then let me ask you something else.”

  “Go on, ask me then.”

  “What about me? Are you, you know attracted to me? I am your best friend. And I think I’m rather cute,” joked Rena.

  When Frankie didn’t respond in laughter, Rena stood still, careful not to say anything else.

  Biting her bottom lip, Frankie looked away. “I am attracted to you. I just didn’t know how to tell you. Remember the day I first told you that?” Frankie looked down at her shoes.

  “Yeah,” was Rena’s reply.

  “I felt it then but I couldn’t tell you. That’s why I blurted out that I hated boys. Feeling like I felt lying next to you confirmed it.”

  “Really?” she asked.

  “Yes, really.” replied Frankie

  In deep thought, Rena finally started talking again. Her next words shocked Frankie.

  “You can experiment with me if you want to.”

  “What did you just say?” Frankie asked, her eyes looming large as light bulbs at Rena’s suggestion.

  The two girls stood in the family room. Looking around to be certain no one was inside listening, Rena started to repeat her offer.

  “Wait,” Frankie insisted. “Looking around for herself, she grabbed Rena’s hand and led her into her bedroom. “Somebody might walk inside and hear us.”

  Entering into Frankie’s bedroom, Rena stopped dead in her tracks. The once dainty room had been turned into a room that looked basically lifeless. Frankie had painted the room from a soft pink tone to a dark blue. Sneakers lined the walls and a stereo system sat in another corner of the bedroom. All of the posters Frankie once proudly displayed all over her wall of her favorite actor, Will Smith, were gone. The dozens of stuffed animals she loved were no where in sight.

  “Wow, you’re really taking this lesbian thing seriously, aren’t you? What did your parents say? I can’t believe your momma let you do this.”

  “I’m my own person.” Frankie’s voice rose.

  Rena froze.

  “I’m sick of people trying to boss me around. She doesn’t care what I do anyway. If it’s not anything to do with my father, church or my brother, then it’s not important to her.” Frankie’s voice trembled.

  “I…don’t know what to say, Frankie. Your momma has always been weird like that. I mean, I’m not checking her or anything.”

  Frankie shuffled a pair of sneakers and jeans from one side of the room to the other.

  “Weird is an understatement. My mother just does not like me. And you know what, Rena?”

  “What, Frankie.”

  “I’m fine with that.”

  “Francesca, uh, I meant to say Frankie, you know your mother loves you.

  “Look, stop the small talk. What were you talking about out there?” Frankie closed her bedroom door behind her.

  “I said, you can practice with me. If you’re really serious, then you need to know for sure if it’s for real or if you’re just mixed up in the head. I don’t know, maybe it’s a stupid suggestion. I just don’t want you out there trying something and you get in trouble.”

  “No, no. You might be right. If I can’t trust you, who can I trust?”

  The two girls never meant to defile their minds and bodies. It just happened. Nervous and unsure of
what to do next, the curiously naïve teenagers stared at each other. Their eyes locked as they moved in closer, one to the other. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, yet the journey into the unknown, into the forbidden, was just beginning.

  “Frankie, Rena!” First Lady Graham called. “Where are you two? The food is ready,” she continued yelling.

  Frankie was the first one to pop her head out from behind her bedroom door. “Chill out, we were in my room listening to music and talking, Momma,” was Frankie’s response.

  “Well, every one is outside and you two should be no exception. Come on out here right now,” she ordered.

  “Sure,” Frankie replied with irritation ringing in her voice while hoping that the wrong they’d just committed wouldn’t somehow reveal itself on her and Rena’s flushed faces.

  It was Saturday, March 18, the day that would forever redefine Francesca Graham and Rena Jackson’s relationship.

  5

  Each has his past shut in him like the leaves of a book known to him by heart and his friends can only read the title. Virginia Wolfe

  Shortly after her fifteenth birthday, Pastor and Audrey began noticing the change in Francesca. She was more reserved, acquired new friends, rarely talked to them. When she was at home, she mostly hung out in her room with her door shut. The Grahams attributed the change to teenage rebellion. However, that theory soon changed when Frankie’s grades plummeted. She refused to attend church. It didn’t matter that her father was the pastor. It didn’t matter if she was grounded for being disobedient. It didn’t matter if Audrey whipped her or smacked her around for not going to church. She wasn’t going back inside another church, ever again, and no one could make her. She no longer listened to anything they had to say, if it wasn’t something she wanted to hear.