Promise To Keep

by Rainwater, Priscilla Poole

  Dropping all pretenses of friendliness, her face contorted into an animalistic snarl. “You of all people should resent that….that fucking WHORE laying up with your DEAD best friend’s husband! And in HER house! If that’s all right with you, well, you’re just spitting on her memory! And everyone’s talking about him and her, too, shouldn‘t she be sticking with her own kind anyway?“ she finished, looking as if she wanted to spit on the floor.

  Gripping the cart handle tightly to keep from slapping the hell out of her on the spot, Helen turned beet red, ground her teeth, and said, “Let me tell you something, Patty Miller, you don’t care one shit about Jenny’s memory, so stop posing you phony little tramp. As far as Aisha goes, she was Jenny’s oldest and dearest friend, and she WANTED her to be there. So what both of them do is their own damned business!”

  “Don’t you talk to me that.“

  Stepping closer, Helen pointer a finger directly at her, cutting her off. “YOU are the one sniffing around like a dog in heat, hoping for a crack at him! And if even if you weren’t ‘the horizontal refreshment for any man who wants to drink from the Well of Patty’, he STILL wouldn’t want you, skank! Don’t you stand there pretending like you ever cared about Jenny, or her memory. The truth is, you’ve never cared about anyone but yourself, and everyone knows it!“

  “Bitch, I’ll slap the shit out of….“

  Stepping even closer to her in a challenging manner, Helen continued as her antagonist closed her mouth and took a step back. “Do yourself a favor, keep getting your dates at the hoochie bar, and forget about Connell, because, your sorry ass can’t measure up to Aisha, believe me! Take your own advice and stick with you own kind: LOW CLASS!“

  Turning her head, Patty brought a trembling hand to her mouth and began to cry. Helen almost felt sorry for her, until she turned back around and snarled, “Don’t you think some people will hate a white man like Connell with one of THEM? How do you think people will treat him as long as he’s with that ni…...that… nappy-headed SPOOK?“

  All sympathy vanished as she realized the woman had completely showed her true colors, stopping just short of calling Aisha the big “N” word in public. Mercilessly, she tore into her once more. “You actually think you can charm Connell, get your meat hooks into him? My Ben told me how you were acting the night they went and played pool, but Connell was there to protect HER, the woman he cares about! You’re right about one thing at least, Jenny WAS a very good friend to me, and she wanted Aisha to raise her children! Aisha, no one else! And I pray to God she does! There is no way you can ever be with him, so just forget about it. Just go find yourself a man who doesn’t mind that fact you’ve been test-driven a time or four hundred.”

  Hearing that, Patty turned her head and began cried even harder.

  Pointing a finger at her again, Helen issued a warning. “Patty Miller, don’t you try and stir up trouble. You don’t want me to come after your hot ass, because I promise you, when I put my ass-kicking boots on I will beat you like you stole my last dime. You remember what happened to your little friend, that one that tried messing with my Ben?”

  Though she neither looked at her or answered, Patty remembered. Awhile back her friend Tammy Yates had taken a liking to Ben, and thought she would try to seduce him late one Saturday evening. There were two things she hadn’t counted on: Ben being as faithful as Connell, and what Helen would do when Ben told her. Tammy had actually crawled inside the king cab of his Chevy pickup while he was inside the hardware store, and stripped down to her sexy Fredrick’s of Hollywood see-through underwear, ready to offer herself to him.

  When a frantic Ben had gotten her out of the truck, he went straight home and told Helen. In a blind rage, Helen had found Tammy at one of the town hangouts, and when she had finished with her, her friend had looked like she had been on the losing end of a WWE Hardcore match. Even Sheriff Berry and his strapping young deputy had had a difficult time pulling her off the woman. Afterwards, the Sheriff had said there were two kinds of laws: The laws of men, and the laws of pissed off wives. And he didn’t see a problem with Helen bringing down her own brand of punishment. Tammy had balked, and the Sheriff had given her a choice: “Take your just desserts like an adult and walk away, or face charges of public drunkenness and lewd behavior.”

  Tammy ended up leaving town, so ashamed she had been of the beating she had received. The last Patty heard of her, she was living in Knoxville Tennessee, and had no plans of ever returning to town.

  Spinning around on her heels, she stormed out of the store without another word.

  Helen continued her shopping, pretending she didn’t hear the whispers or see the glances of the other shoppers.

  ********************************************************

  Aisha was sick of laying around on the couch. The pain medication had helped, and she tossed the book she had been trying to read on the coffee table and sat up. Looking at her watch, she saw it was almost lunchtime. Since Helen hadn’t returned from the grocery store yet, she thought about what she could put together for lunch, and decided on something simple and fast, grilled ham and cheese sandwiches, and tomato soup.

  After she finished preparing the meal, she used the intercom to call Jonus and Connell in for lunch.

  For Connell the morning had ended up going well, they had had to repair a part of his fence yet again, but this time it looked as if someone had used a vehicle to tear it down, and it was worrying him. Looking around the pond, he had found beer cans and food wrappers scattered about, which further angered him. Not only had someone, or several people, trespassed, but also had left their garbage behind for them to clean up. He and Jonus had decided the only way to stop whoever it was from doing it again was to use his Bobcat loader to dig a deep trench right outside the fence, making it impossible for a vehicle to approach from that vantage point.

  As they had worked he had talked about Aisha’s upcoming birthday, and how he wanted to make it special for her, Jonus had suggested a party at the house, and since it was still warm enough, they had decided on a huge barbecue. He had also decided he would get only Jonus and Helen to help him put together the surprise party, knowing Ben couldn’t keep a secret if his life depended on it.

  Coming into the kitchen, she was surprised when he kissed her in front of Jonus. “Something smells good. Sit down and get off that leg, I’ll serve you for a change. We already washed up.”

  Aisha went to the table, and gave a grinning Jonus a playful smack on his arm, hoping to hide how embarrassed she was that Connell had kissed her in front of him.

  Jonus didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he couldn’t stop grinning and giving her a knowing look. “Connell said your birthday is in a few days. What do you want?’ He asked as he took a bite of his sandwich.

  She gave them both a surprised look, like she didn’t know why it would be such a big deal. She shrugged and said, “Well, how about a nice dinner and movie? I never really do anything special on my birthday.“ She didn’t notice the look that passed between him and Connell.

  After lunch, Connell told her they would be in their second new barn, one that was now finished, moving in equipment and organizing everything. He said he also needed to install the new intercom there also.

  Aisha was glad to see Helen arrive shortly after they had left, even though she seemed to be in an agitated mood. When they finished putting up the food they sat at the kitchen table chatting and sipping Jasmine tea.

  In her usual, blunt style, Helen blurted, “Have you and Connell slept together?”

  Aisha sighed and toyed with her cup. “Yes, and I feel so guilty. After the first time, I promised myself I wouldn’t do it again, but we did again last night. And it was me who initiated it, go figure.” She looked up, expecting Helen to be upset or looking down her nose at her, but she just sat there with a smug, knowing look on her face.

  “Well, personally, I think you both should stop worrying, and go for it. I didn’t know what to think when I fi
rst found out that’s what Jenny wanted, but she knew what she was doing as it turns out.”

  Helen was studying her face like she was under a microscope, and it made her nervous. “To be honest, it’s not just about guilt though. I know people would, and do, have problems with us being together. What about Abby? What happens when she goes to school and a kid says something mean or a teacher is mean to her because her father is with a black woman?”

  Helen reached out and touched her arm. “You can lose a good man with all the “what ifs.” If that happens then you two just deal with it, and stick together. That’s what couples are supposed to do. I remember when you were married to that Max fellow, what did you do then when someone said something about you being with him? He’s white. Did you run away, or stand up for yourself? Why would it be any different with Connell?”

  Leaning her back against the chair, her arms crossed under her full breasts. “There’s a difference from the world I shared with Max. Damn, I don’t know, sure we got looks from people, but you don’t know Max, he wasn’t the type of man people messed with. I guess the fact that we didn’t have children was the biggest thing, I didn’t have to worry about how it would effect them. But this time is different.

  Helen nodded. “Well, I don’t know what kind of person Max is, but trust me, if someone messes with you or those kids, you’ll see a side of that red- headed devil Connell that might surprise you. Stop worrying about what may or may not happen, and be happy.”

  “Yeah well…” she replied slowly.

  From the thoughtful look on Aisha’s face, she knew her words had hit home. Smiling, wanting to ease some of her friend’s tension, she leaned forward, looked behind her at the door, then back at her slyly and asked in a low voice, “I’ve GOT to know, when you and Connell, well, you know, did he rock your world? Is he big everywhere? Did he make you scream like a banshee, have them toes curling and cracking? Did he throw your back out while he put it to you good and proper? Let me tell you one thing about country boys, hon. They been watchin’ animals mate since before they could walk, they know how to put some lovin’ on a woman! That’s why I say once you go farm boy, you never go back to what you had before.”

  “You’re AWFUL!“ Aisha cried as she brought one hand to her mouth and slapped Helen’s arm playfully with the other.

  Both of them laughed until tears came to their eyes.

  ****************************************

  Chapter 10

  The Tribe of Eden compound.

  Zamora smiled. She had known the envelope would arrive like it had every year, around this time.

  Glancing around the compound furtively, she made sure no one was watching. Quickly, she lifted the bottom of her thick sweater, tucked the envelope in the waistband of her skirt, then tugged the sweater back in place, concealing the envelope.

  Hurrying into the newly built church office, she handed the rest of the mail to her mother and said, “Momma, I’m gonna’ go to the dormitory to see if Sister Alice needs help cleaning.” From the corner of her eye she could see her pudgy sister-in-law, Mary, glaring at her. It was nothing new, she had always known she hated her, same as she hated Aisha, her older sister.

  The significance of this day wasn’t lost on her, and Selma, Zamora and Aisha’s mother, knew her younger daughter had received the usual letter from her older sister. For many years the two of them had kept it a secret between them, and her biggest regret was that her baby girl had never managed to slip away like Aisha had. After Aisha had escaped, her husband, and the rest of the men for that matter, had been keeping an extra careful eye on their wives and daughters, night and day. “Alright sweetheart, remember, tonight you have to care for the children. Your brother and father are calling for the rest of the women to have an all night prayer vigil.”

  Zamora gave her a small, grateful smile. She’d rather be with the children than spending hours upon hours on her knees praying for sins she had never committed, or ever would, while her older brother stood nearby demeaning and condemning her for her “wicked female ways” and “impure thoughts.“ “I will momma.” she said.

  Mary watched in silence as the mother and daughter talked briefly. She disliked the girl, everything about her. She stood roughly five feet six inches tall, and even in the ill fitting drab dress she had the kind of youthful body she herself would never have, the kind of lush body men lusted after. Her mahogany skin was flawless, and a long wild cloud of curls framed her oval face. Were it not forbidden for any women to wear their hair down, her hair would fall well past her shoulders. She had seen many of the good brothers watching her, lusting after her. She resembled her older sister, Aisha, in many ways. Her thoughts shifting to the older of the two, her stomach burned with resentment and anger.

  Aisha was supposed to have been the bride of her father, she should have been his fourth wife. He had lusted after her even as her own mother had wasted away from untreated diabetes. Whenever he stopped long enough to pretend he cared, her father had preached to the dying woman that she was sinful and prideful, and if she prayed for forgiveness her health would be restored. Of course it never had. Her own resentment stemmed from her own belief that her father didn’t care, never had, because he was so consumed by the young girl, and her mother was simply a nuisance. Briefly, she was pleased that her father had been shamed by Aisha running away. But when Jeddah (Aisha’s father) said he would allow a marriage between herself (when she was only fourteen) with his own son (Ezekiel, twenty two) it was considered by everyone in the church as such a wonderful honor. Everyone but her, anyway.

  There was another reason she hated Aisha: Unlike most of the women at the compound, she had ran when she had the chance, something she herself had never worked up the courage to do. Even though she hated and despised the world she was born into, at least she was comfortable in this world, and wouldn’t know how to take care of herself and her son on her own. She didn’t have a formal education like some of the younger girls, and in truth, had never had anything of her own, only what her father (and later her husband) gave her. Although she could never love him, Ezekiel did make sure she and their son were well fed, sheltered, and protected.

  “Dear? Dear?” Zamora’s voice called out.

  Looking at the young girl with a blank look on her face, Mary said, “What?”

  “I asked if you were alright, you looked like your mind was a million miles away.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m Ok, just thinking.” she mumbled as Zamora looked at her doubtfully, then resumed the conversation with her mother.

  Lost in her own thoughts again, Mary hated to admit it even in her own mind, but it was something she simply could not ignore: She had never wanted to be with a man, nor had ever desired one. Homosexuality was considered a grave sin in their community, but no matter how much the men tried to hammer the idea home in their heads, she couldn’t help the way she was born, she had always been attracted to women. She was repulsed by the mere thought of a man touching her. It had always been somewhat of a mystery to her how she had ever been able to hide her fear, shame, and revulsion every time her own husband had his way with her body. There was no pleasure in the act, it was just an abhorrent wifely duty as far as she was concerned, and to her, it had always felt like he had ‘used the bathroom’ inside her when he was finished. One of the few advantages she could see to being married to Ezekiel was that she wielded a considerable amount of clout over all the ‘common women‘, since she was the wife of the Prophet’s second-in-command.

  “See ya’ later Mary.“ Zamora said.

  Snapping back to the present, she narrowed her eyes as she watched the girl scurry out the door and thought, She’s up to something.

  Taking a step forward to follow the little twit and see what she was up to, she was stopped by her mother-in-law.

  “Mary, stay put for awhile, I may need you here.” Selma said.

  Looking at the door regretfully, she sighed. She couldn’t refuse, after all
, Selma was the wife of THE Prophet.

  ******************************************************

  Making sure no one else sure was in the dormitory, Zamora ran into the bathroom and locked the door. Opening the linen closet, she slid a stack of heavy blankets aside, then pulled a small penknife from her pocket. Carefully, she used it to pry up a floorboard, her secret hiding place where all her forbidden treasures were kept.

  Reaching inside, she pulled out a tiny, battered, but still functional ballerina music box with one missing hinge that a classmate at school had given her years earlier. Her friend, Anna Nash, had been a quiet, shy, pretty, sensitive red-headed white girl who’s family was dirt poor, and the music box had been one of her most prized possessions. She had given it to her in lieu of being able to afford buying her a birthday gift one year, even a gift of nominal value. The gesture had melted her own heart, and she treasured the tiny box. She felt a lump rising in her throat as memories of her lost friend came flooding back. Her friend, ten tears old, coming to school one Friday morning, giddy with excitement, telling her her daddy had worked enough overtime at the sawmill to be able to take her to the county fair the following day, an exceptionally rare treat for her. The image of the girl’s happy face that day was forever burned in her memory. The next day, Saturday afternoon, Anna and her father had both been killed in a horrific head-on collision with a runaway pulpwood truck on a winding mountain road, on their way to the fair. It had been no one’s fault, the truck had lost its brakes on the steep downhill slope, and was careening out of control at speeds the driver couldn’t handle. It was just a terrible, senseless tragedy. The girl’s mother, despondent and inconsolable, had taken her own life shortly after their funeral. The truck driver, nearly insane with grief and guilt, had had a nervous breakdown, and the last anyone knew or heard from him was that he had been placed in a mental institution.