by Aisha Graham
Evita was currently old enough to know to mind her business in this house, so she waited until the phone slammed to the receiver to peak into the hall to eavesdrop. She could hear her mother sobbing uncontrollably, but what would she do? What could she do? She knew her father was a mean man, but she didn’t know much about relationships yet, and hadn’t even fathomed the thought that he would “cheat” on her mother.
A week after the incident, letters with no return address started coming to the house, multiple letters at once. Evita couldn’t quite grasp why her mother felt angst every time the mail man would pull up in front of the house. She could sense Vivian was tense and angry, but without a clue as to why.
Vivian never opened the letters because she knew who they were from and opening them would seal her own fate. She felt herself losing her grip on the false persona she put on for her daughter. Vivian realized she was protecting a man that didn’t deserve protection. She finally made the decision to prepare to leave him and take her daughter with her. Vivian hadn’t told her husband what she’d found. She hadn’t told anyone, not even Loraine, and Vivian began putting every dollar she could save aside in her underwear drawer.
Vivian saved every penny; stashing the change leftover from grocery shopping, selling hand sewn clothes and blankets, making meals for working mothers, and providing laundering services for large families. The Reverend was still being his normal self, so Vivian did all of this without him catching so much of a whiff. She asked Evita to not tell The Reverend about all of her new ventures, and Evita’s loyalty was unwavering. Although Vivian hadn’t come out and said they were leaving, Evita was old and smart enough to hope that that was the case.
Meanwhile at the Church, letters began arriving. Georgia collected the mail and sifted through the envelopes, keeping what seemed to be most important. She left a stack of letters on The Reverend’s office desk, but he was so busy with promiscuity and preaching, that he hadn’t opened them right away. One evening after a long afternoon of drinking with yet another woman, he went into his office to check the books.
The phone rang immediately.
“Hello?”
“Carl!” A lady’s voice shout through the receiving end. The Reverend recognized the young woman’s tone right away.
“Stop calling me you little bitch.” He hung up the phone. It rang again, and The Reverend picked it up off the hook and unplugged it from the socket. His body filled with wrath and he began throwing things around the room. His voice rumbled from the bottom of his gut. The Reverend came back to his senses and remembered he was a reverend. He caught his breath while simultaneously picking things up off the floor, including the letters he had previously neglected.
The last letter he picked up felt heavier than the others and was addressed to “Carl.” That was it. “Carl”. His heart dropped. Reverend Thomas forcibly pried the envelope apart and a pile of Polaroids fell out. He scrambled to pick them up off the floor. There were dozens of pictures of Michelle naked or wearing lingerie. Her pregnancy hadn’t begun to show yet and the pictures were extremely provocative. He slipped one in his coat pocket.
Under the pile of pictures lie a torn sheet of paper with the capitalized words “COME BACK TO ME” written in permanent marker. The Reverend balled the note up, and threw it in the waste bin, placing the rest of the pictures on top, except for the one in his pocket, of course.
That night The Reverend came home early. Vivian wasn’t expecting his arrival. She had been in the kitchen counting her profits for the day. Vivian cleaned clothes for three families of four, and cooked meals for two other friends in the nearby town. The door creaked open and Vivian sprinted from the kitchen table. The Reverend noticed her odd behavior right away.
“Where you going?” he shouted. The Reverend immediately dropped his brief case on the floor and began chasing Vivian up the stairs to their room. Evita could hear the commotion as they passed by her bedroom door, and she cowered under her covers, waiting for the noise to stop. Vivian tried to close the door in Reverend Thomas’s face, but his foot became a doorstop. He kicked the door so hard, it almost came off the hinges.
Vivian was still shuffling through her drawer trying to hide the money when The Reverend grabbed her arms from behind, pulled her away from the dresser, and pushed her onto the bed. He didn’t say a word as he stared Vivian down, eye to eye. He stormed back over toward the drawer to see what Vivian was hiding.
“What is this?” The Reverend picked up multiple wads of money. His anger intensified.
“Give it to me!” Vivian got up off the bed and rushed to grab the cash. The Reverend shoved her back onto the bed and Vivian fell short onto the floor, hitting her back on the metal bed frame. She let out a loud cry.
Evita thought the commotion would have ceased by now and didn’t know what to do. Should she save her mother or mind her business the way she’d always been told? Suddenly, Evita could hear a loud slapping sound. She ran from her room and down the hall to save her mother. Her father was standing over Vivian with both hands raised, preparing to strike her again.
“No!” Evita shouted and The Reverend stopped. Vivian sobbed with relief.
“Go back to bed!” The Reverend charged toward Evita.
“It’s okay honey”, Vivian wept. Evita backed into the hallway, staring at her mother in sorrow. Her father slammed the door closed in her face.
“What is this for?” The Reverend counted a few hundred dollars in his hands, “Get up! You stealing money from me?”
“No. it’s mine.”
“How is it yours?” The Reverend stuffed all of the money into his pants pockets.
“I earned that money!” Vivian stood up and tried to pull the cash away, but The Reverend pushed her back to the ground.
“You trying to leave me or something?” He screamed as he began falling short of breath.
“Who the hell is Michelle?” Vivian directly fired back. The Reverend paused. He temporarily stopped breathing all together.
“Don’t you ever question me like that under my roof, ever again.” he said quietly and calmly as he finished packing the money away. He took all of it, every red cent. Vivian just sat on the bedroom floor, with her face in her palms, as Evita continued hiding under her comforter in her bedroom. The Reverend left the house and didn’t return for three days.
Those were the longest three days of Evita’s life. As the negative nostalgia grew crystal clear, she couldn’t understand how she’d ever forget it. She overheard Vivian crying in the evenings and was forced to share fake smiles and laughter with her throughout the days. Vivian cancelled all of the tasks she had scheduled. She lost hope for her odd jobs, feeling like she was stuck.
The Reverend spent the first night in a motel just outside of town and the last two nights with two different mistresses from the church. Meanwhile, Michelle was continuing to call his office phone, day in and day out. She was still roaming the streets and was becoming more visibly pregnant. Michelle’s mother hadn’t heard from Michelle since she kicked her out, but still made sure to call The Reverend a few times herself to leave a piece of her own mind on the answering machine. The constant ringing caught the attention of the clergymen. Georgia would ask what she could do to assist. The Reverend assured Georgia her only task would be to mind her business and make sure the church members did the same.
On the evening The Reverend returned home, he looked disheveled. There was no emotion in his eyes as he plowed through the front door into the foyer. Vivian already had dinner prepared and the table set. She washed the dishes in an inattentive daze. The sound of the door creaking open made her jump. Her skin crawled. She was not yet ready to face the man who she deemed responsible for ruining her life and more importantly, her peace of mind.
Evita sat at the table and was preparing to eat. Vivian quietly asked her to take her meal to her room, which was something Evita wasn’t allowed to do in all her thirteen years of living. Without even utteri
ng a word, Evita complied, and took her plate of food to her lonely bedroom. She ate slowly and quietly, trying to listen out for her mother’s help. The air rang in stillness.
The Reverend peaked his head into the archway of the kitchen, searching for Evita’s presence. Vivian could sense what he was looking for and why, so in an effort to assure him there’d be no witnesses, Vivian stated Evita was in her room with her meal. She continued washing the dishes. The Reverend came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed so tightly that she let out a screech. Vivian dropped the sponge and dirty plate into the sink to pry his hands away.
“If you want to run away from me, I’ll give you something to run from”, The Reverend whispered as liquor scented air left the cracks of his mouth. He pushed Vivian into the counter and she held onto the edge of the sink to catch her breath. The Reverend disappeared for some time into the back room of the house which he’d kept to himself as a man cave. Vivian quietly finished cleaning the kitchen and decided to go to Evita’s room with her for a couple of hours. The two of them laughed and joked, read multiple bed time stories and sang songs.
Evita almost forgot about the painful past few days. This was the Vivian she knew. This was the woman who brought happiness with her wherever she went and under every circumstance. The two of them ignored The Reverend’s distant presence, that is, until he burst through the door demanding it be Evita’s bed time. He informed them both that Georgia would be taking Evita to and from school for the rest of the week.
Vivian hid her worry from her facial expressions and assured Evita that everything would be okay. The hug the two of them shared was like none other. Vivian held Evita so tightly, and so snug that Evita could feel her mother’s arms around her until she fell asleep that night. Vivian showered her with kisses and repeatedly told her she loved her and that she was the most beautiful, intelligent child a woman could ask for. Vivian gently held Evita’s cheeks with the palms of her hands.
The Reverend rushed their warm salutations and before the door was at a full close, he very visibly yanked Vivian’s arm down the hallway. Evita hoped he wouldn’t hurt her, and luckily her mother’s warmth that evening ensured Evita that everything would be okay. Vivian had that special effect, providing the illusion of security where there was none.
The Reverend and Vivian whispered expletives to one another the entire way down the hall and stairwell. Vivian slapped his hands, scratching his knuckles as a way to pry them from her forearm. “What is wrong with you?” Vivian’s switch went from sadness to rage.
The Reverend pushed her down the remaining steps, and Vivian stumbled to land on her knees.
“Get up!” he yelled.
Vivian stood in front of his face. She wasn’t afraid anymore and nothing was worth the trouble she was putting herself and her daughter through.
“She’s pregnant, isn’t she?” she asked staring directly in her husband’s eyes.
The Reverend smacked her across the face expecting her to fall onto the floor; she stood strong.
“You got that little bitch pregnant!” she shouted. He slapped her harder, this time drawing blood from her jaw. Vivian grew angrier and pushed The Reverend in his chest. He picked her up by her arms and carried her, as she kicked and screamed all the way to the basement door. He threw her down the stairs and Vivian tumbled all the way before landing on her head, becoming unconscious.
The Reverend was initially worried and he rushed down to check his wife’s pulse. When he felt the veins jumping from her neck. He knew he was still in the clear. He dragged Vivian over to the far-right corner of the unfinished basement. Vivian’s head hung over to the left and cobwebs became acquainted with her hair. The Reverend’s trench coat was getting in his way as he struggled with some ropes and chains that lie dormant in the basement for years. He snatched off his coat and threw it on top of Vivian’s limp body.
He tied Vivian’s ankles and wrists to the radiator. The Reverend ran upstairs to his office to search for duct tape. He finally found it in the one drawer he never used. He rushed back to his wife to cover her mouth for when she would eventually awake. Vivian stayed unconscious through the night.
The next morning, a bowl of cold oatmeal waited for Evita on the kitchen table. The Reverend rushed into the room to give Evita a five-minute warning before Georgia’s arrival. He was still disheveled from the night before. His hair wasn’t brushed, it was long in some places and short in others and lint balls collected from the dusty basement were festively placed throughout. His tie was loose and his trench coat dangled off the side of the right shoulder.
His dress shirt was the same one from the day before and was wrinkled down the entire front side. A red stain dripped down the same path as his buttons, but went unnoticed by The Reverend himself. Evita didn’t assume it to be blood, but had never come across a similar stain and was still very much confused. He paced back and forth quickly through the house, looking all over for his flip phone and wallet, and went onto collect trash bags, paper towels, and soap.
Evita’s eyes followed him back and forth. “Where’s mom?” She asked calmly, somehow knowing her father wouldn’t have a legitimate answer. The Reverend stopped in his tracks. He wiped sweat away from his forehead with the sleeve of his dingy coat.
“Umm… she’s at the doctor’s”, since that was his plan anyway, to take Vivian to the hospital and claim and accidental fall while she was still out of it. He had no clue how he’d wake Vivian up and if she wasn’t’ awake by noon.
Georgia finally waddled through the door with a dumb grin on her face, shocking The Reverend back into his search. “Hey Georgia, keep her at your house for the next few nights. I’ll check in with you later”, he never stopped moving.
“What?” Evita questioned, as she didn’t know she’d actually have to stay overnight with Georgia. The Reverend, in a strict tone, told Evita he’d see her at the church after school. Georgia dragged Evita up from her seat and through the door as Evita looked over her shoulder, observing her father’s strange actions. The door shut behind them and The Reverend took a seat at the kitchen table. He broke down crying as he held his head in the palm of his hands. He screamed, grunted, and used his arm to push all the table’s contents onto the floor. That was his thing, you know. The crash above Vivian’s head woke her.
Loraine stood on the porch, waving and gently smiling as Evita drove down the long driveway back to civilization. She first made a stop at a gas station for some snacks to drive a few hours north to her father’s house. She had no idea what she was really looking for. There needed to be some sort of evidence for cops to make an arrest and Evita’s dreams along with cryptic, decade-old letters weren’t going to bring any justice.
Was there ever even a case for her mother’s death, or was it automatically ruled a suicide? Evita had a vague understanding of how the justice system worked, and she never really knew what happened to Vivian in the first place. Maybe this would be a lost cause. Maybe she should’ve stayed with Loraine for a few more days to gain her bearings. Maybe all of this was a huge mistake.
Evita drove through miles and miles of wooded area on a small one-way street leading away from her grandmother’s house. Thousands of leaves blocked the sun rays and made it seem as though it was already evening time. Evita hadn’t even thought to turn the music on and drove in silence amongst her unsettled thoughts. She went back to the days leading to her mother’s death.
While Evita was at school, The Reverend and Vivian spent their day in the basement, spatting hateful words back and forth. Vivian demanded The Reverend untie her, and in return, he demanded she shut up. Vivian rattled her arms against the radiator, slamming and punching the metal hoping someone would hear her. No one did.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Vivian screamed. The question was valid. The Reverend had always had a bit of negativity hovering over him on a daily basis, but to be pushed this far was something new. The couple had their share of
physical fights, but Vivian never expected to become a literal prisoner in her own home.
“Carl! You fucking untie me! Untie me right now!” Vivian continued cursing in ways The Reverend had never heard her do before. He sat on the floor in front of her, holding his head in his palm again, with his knees folded up to his eyes, whispering under his breath. Vivian grew tired from her anger and retreated back in quiet sadness. She wept and gasped for air.
“How did we get like this; how did we get here?” She couldn’t understand how they went from teenagers on the B6 bus to adults who hated each other and life itself. Vivian wondered how people endured pain from one another on a daily basis, all the while functioning as if everything was fine, as trouble bubbled under the surface. The people around Carl and Vivian would have never guessed they were like this. Evita barely knew and she lived with them. Vivian wondered what her life would be like if the energy she spent masking the bad parts was used to eliminate them all together. Instead of so fiercely protecting The Reverend’s image, what if she had protected herself and her daughter?
“Wait until everybody hears about this, you just wait!” Vivian screamed and cried and screamed some more.
“You’re not telling anybody!” The Reverend stood above her, repeatedly pushing her head into the radiator. Vivian fell unconscious again and The Reverend began to panic, again. He actually started to cry. The phone rang upstairs in the living room and The Reverend rushed up the steps.
“Hello?” He fought to breathe peacefully as he spoke.