Right Package, Wrong Baggage

by Wanda B. Campbell

  Pamela dropped to her knees right there in the kitchen and cried out, this time for forgiveness. Jessica and her mother were right. Since the night Micah confided in her, she’d directed the anger she felt for her late husband at Micah. She hadn’t forgiven Marlon and had judged Micah by Marlon’s actions. She allowed her baggage from the past to slowly eat away her future until there was nothing left but her wounded heart.

  “God, please help me so I can move forward,” she cried.

  Chapter 22

  Micah stared out the small window of the 747 aircraft as he waited for push off from Gate 22 at the Oakland Airport. The last time he sat in the small confines of an airplane was on his ride into California two and a half years ago aboard the same carrier. That day when the plane started down the short runway at Midway, Micah said good-bye to Chicago. He never imagined he’d be back so soon and certainly not for this reason.

  Five days in Chicago would be challenging for him. He didn’t have a clue as to how to plan a funeral. Helen never expressed what her final wishes were, but he believed his mother would want to be buried close to his father. He was going to try to make that happen. He knew her favorite color was pink; therefore, Micah was going to find a nice pink dress or suit for her to wear. He guessed she would like a white casket. He still couldn’t think of a picture nice enough to use for her obituary. What would the obituary say? How long should the service be? Should there even be a service, considering his mother didn’t have many friends outside of her three-story apartment building? All these thoughts kept him from sleeping last night.

  “Son, I brought this picture of your mother. It was taken years ago, before you were born.” Pastor Jackson held the faded colored photo out to Micah. “She said this was her favorite picture.”

  Micah took the picture he’d never seen before. His eyes watered at the sight of her. Helen was beautiful in the pink chiffon prom dress and tiara. Her chocolate skin was smooth and flawless, not the blotchy skin he was accustomed to seeing. Her ebony eyes were happy and bright, almost like they were dancing.

  Micah wiped his eyes. “I can’t believe this is my mother.”

  “That’s Helen all right. The family was so happy when she won prom queen. The next day, we threw a big BBQ to celebrate. That was a big thing for us Jacksons back then.” Pastor Jackson smiled, recalling the fond memory. “She met your father and had you two years later.”

  “My mother didn’t even make it to fifty,” Micah said sadly.

  “No, but at least she was saved when she went.”

  Micah pondered his uncle’s statement. It comforted him to know that his mother’s eternal life would be more peaceful than her natural one. Helen received salvation, and in the end, that’s all that mattered. “Did she ever say what type of service she wanted?”

  “No, but I know one thing, Richard Lewis will not preach her eulogy,” Pastor Jackson stated plainly. Micah agreed. In fact, he preferred to have his mother’s funeral at the mortuary than at Life Changing Ministries. Micah had told his uncle about Helen attending Richard’s church. Pastor Jackson agreed with Micah on not telling Helen about his relationship with Reverend. Lewis.

  “Son, how do you feel about seeing him?” Pastor Jackson asked after he adjusted his seat to the upright position. “He tried to use your mother to get in touch with you. That right there tells me he hasn’t changed, and in his mind, he’s still connected to you.”

  “I don’t care what he thinks. I have moved on. If I do see Richard, it will only be to discuss the funeral service, that’s all.” The conversation was interrupted by the overhead instructions to watch the airline attendants demonstrate the emergency procedures.

  Micah’s cell phone sounded. He quickly retrieved it from his jacket pocket and after he checked the caller ID, he turned the phone off. But not before his uncle read Pamela’s name across the screen.

  Pastor Jackson fastened his seat belt before he asked, “Is everything good between you and Pamela?”

  “Everything is perfect. I ended our relationship last night,” Micah answered quickly, and then grabbed the magazine from the seat pocket in front of him.

  Pastor Jackson took the magazine from him and placed it back in the seat pocket. “Why did you do that? I thought things were better between the two of you after that incident with her neighbor.”

  “I wanted them to be,” Micah admitted. “But my past is too much for Pamela to handle.” Micah didn’t mention she accused him of wanting to sleep with Richard.

  “I am so sorry to hear that,” Pastor Jackson mumbled. “I thought for sure she was the one.”

  “Yeah, so did I,” Micah leaned his head against the headrest with his eyes closed. He hoped his actions relayed to his uncle that he didn’t want to continue the conversation.

  Pastor Jackson bowed his head in prayer as the aircraft pushed away from the gate. Traveling mercies weren’t the only thing he was praying for. Micah was too vulnerable. He’d just lost his mother, and now the woman he loved was no longer in his life. Sudden and unfortunate events were the catalysts leading Micah back in the same direction of the man who had preyed on him before when he was in a low state. For the endurance of the four-hour flight, Pastor Jackson prayed fervently that Micah would be able to overcome the attack he was sure the enemy would launch through Richard Lewis.

  Without knocking, Pamela stumbled into Jessica’s office and collapsed in the blue chair in front of her desk. “You were right, Jess, about everything. I messed up.” Before Jessica could ask her what was wrong, Pamela leaned on the desk and cried with her head in her hands.

  “Would you mind telling me what you did before you ruin my desk calendar?”

  “Micah’s gone,” Pamela managed between sobs.

  Jessica laughed at her friend. “That man has you twisted inside out. He’s only been gone for a few hours, and you’re already crying. Girl, he’ll be back.” Jessica leaned back in her chair and reached for her mouse.

  “He’s not coming back, at least not to me,” Pamela said before Jessica could click the print icon on her flat screen.

  “Pam, what are you talking about? Micah is only going to bury his mother. After that, he’s coming back to Cali, and when he does, he’ll be at your beck and call like always.”

  “No, he won’t. He ended our relationship last night.” Pamela barely got the words out before a fresh batch of tears escaped.

  Jessica pushed the mouse away and stood straight up. “Pamela, what did you do to him? I know you did or said something really crazy. Micah loves you way too much to just end your relationship.”

  “You were right, I’m self-righteous and judgmental, and I’ve been in denial about forgiving Marlon.”

  Jessica slid the entire box of tissue across the desk to her. “You must have really blown it to finally be willing to admit all that.” Jessica’s voice softened, and she sat back down. “Pam, tell me what happened.”

  Between shedding more tears and blowing her nose, it took Pamela ten whole minutes to convey the events of her breakup with Micah.

  “Oh, Jess, what am I going to do? He wouldn’t answer my calls last night or this morning. You should have seen the disgust in his eyes when he slammed the door on me. He hates me.”

  Jessica sighed deeply. “Pam, I really wish you would have listened to me earlier, but you didn’t. Now all you can do is pray Micah has a change of heart. But in the meantime, you need to deal with your unresolved issues.”

  “I can’t,” Pamela whimpered.

  “You have to. If you don’t, every time Micah or anyone else does something that resembles Marlon’s actions, you’re going to find yourself in this same situation over and over again.”

  “How do I do that? How do I forgive a person who’s dead?” Pamela sincerely asked.

  “Start by accepting your true feelings. Let go of the façade and the fairytale you’ve created and deal with what’s really going on inside. After that, the rest will come.”

  Jessica’s wor
ds made sense to Pamela, but it wasn’t going to be easy. For five years she worked relentlessly to portray a man Matthew would be proud of. Pamela played the part so well before her son, even she believed the fantasy at times.

  “What if Micah doesn’t change his mind?” Pamela whined. “What if he doesn’t love me anymore?”

  Jessica sighed. “Pam, of course Micah still loves you; probably always will. But even if you and Micah never reunite, you need to do this one for yourself. You need to heal from the wounds Marlon inflicted so you can be free.” Jessica paused. “I know you’re not going to like what I’m about to say, but I have to say it because it’s crucial that you understand how important it is for you to be healed. You being whole and complete will be worth it, even if you have to watch Micah marry someone else.”

  Jessica was right again. Pamela didn’t like that at all. “Micah is not marrying anyone but me!” she yelled. Pamela stood to her feet with renewed determination. Her neck rolled as she spoke. “God told me that Micah is my husband, and once God tells you something, He doesn’t take it back. He knows what’s best for me. That’s why after I prayed, He sent me Micah. He sent Micah to me, not someone else!” Pamela poked herself in the chest.

  Jessica didn’t have to say one word; she just leaned back in her chair and observed Pamela’s animation. This was the first time Pamela really listened to her own words and applied them to herself. Jessica watched Pamela fall back into the chair only to start crying again. “Oh, Jess, God did send me Micah. Why did I run him away? He was so good to me. How could I have treated him so callously?”

  “Because you haven’t freed yourself from your past,” Jessica answered softly. “You were so busy worrying about how Micah’s past would hurt you, and you never considered how your past and present state of mind could hurt him.”

  “Jess, I hurt him in so many ways, but this time, I went too far.”

  Jessica stood and walked around the desk to the door. “Let’s pray,” she said, and then took Jessica’s hands into hers after locking the office door.

  Chapter 23

  Micah waited impatiently for the elevator that would take him and Pastor Jackson to the rental car garage. Chicago’s Midway Airport had undergone a total makeover since his departure over two years ago. “Where did the elevator and garage come from?” he grumbled. He didn’t appreciate the slowness of what should have been a convenience.

  During the four-hour flight, Micah had convinced himself that the person lying in the morgue at Cook County Hospital was not his mother. This was all a mistake, and his mother was on a train headed to California. As soon as he cleared up the mistaken identity, he would head back home and await her arrival.

  With contract and keys in hand, Micah sat in the driver’s seat of the rented Chevrolet and turned his cell phone back on. He checked his messages in hopes of a call from his mother. She’d told him she would call him and share the interesting sites along her journey. His heart sank and reality once again returned. There weren’t any messages from Helen, and there never would be. Micah was too distracted to drive and handed Pastor Jackson the keys. While he walked around to the passenger side, Micah removed his Nike sweat jacket. The late August heat and humidity nearly caused him to suffocate. He’d only been away from his native town two years, but the Bay Area’s moderate weather had spoiled him.

  Pastor Jackson looked down at the time on the console. “We can’t check into the hotel for another two hours.” Micah waited for what he knew was coming next. “We should stop by the hospital first, then contact a mortuary,” Pastor Jackson suggested. “Your mother’s friend, Lula Murphy, has Helen’s suitcases at her house. She wants us to stop by for dinner later on this evening, if you’re up to it.”

  Viewing his mother’s cold body through a glass window was not something Micah wanted to do. Not today, not ever, but he had to. He nodded and gave his uncle the directions to Cook County Hospital.

  Micah reclined the passenger seat and took in South Cicero Avenue. Not much had changed in the two years he’d been away. More hotels and businesses were added, and of course, the ever-present Citgo gas stations and Currency Exchanges were everywhere. Pastor Jackson merged onto Interstate 55, and Micah’s heart skipped a beat. Off to the far left standing tall in all of its glory was the magnificent Chicago skyline.

  In Micah’s opinion, nothing was more breathtaking than the Chicago skyline. When he was a kid, he used to dream about living in a high-rise overlooking Lake Michigan and running the city from an office at the top of the John Hancock Center or the Sears Tower. From the south side of Chicago, where he lived, downtown was always a far-off dream. He didn’t experience the heartbeat of downtown Chicago until he enrolled in Malcolm X City College and met Richard Lewis.

  The congested traffic merging on the Dan Ryan brought with it thoughts of Richard and the mess he allowed Richard to make of his life. After all, it was Richard who introduced him to the world outside of the south side. In the courting stages, Richard had taken him to fine restaurants, plays, sporting events, even shopping on the Magnificent Mile and dinner in the John Hancock Center’s Signature Room on the 95th floor. Richard took him places he probably would have never seen until years later, if ever. In the beginning, Richard made Micah think he could do anything and be anything. Thinking back now, Micah realized it was all part of the scheme to get him so wrapped up into Richard that he’d do anything he wanted him to, including sleep with him. Proof of that was how Richard always regurgitated in Micah’s face everything he’d ever done for him whenever Micah refused his advances. Richard never failed to remind him that he was the only person who cared anything about his welfare.

  Micah shook the thoughts of Richard away as his uncle took the Morgan Street exit off Interstate 290. His chest tightened as the mass of brick that was known as Cook County Hospital came into view, and he was quickly reminded of the purpose of his visit.

  Viewing his mother’s lifeless body through the morgue window was harder than he thought. That ended all hope of this being a terrible mistake. It wasn’t a mistake; his mother was dead. Micah’s only consolation was that aside from being a shade darker than normal, Helen looked peaceful, like she was simply taking a nap. Pastor Jackson said a brief prayer, and Micah signed for her personal belongings.

  The rest of the afternoon Micah was distant, and for the most part, quiet. Every so often, Pastor Jackson would hear him sniffle or moan the words, “My mother is gone” or “I don’t have anyone now.” Pastor Jackson reminded Micah that he would always have God, and for as long as the Lord saw fit, Micah would have his uncle too.

  The visit to the funeral home left Micah feeling not only destitute, but also confused. He had no idea how many details went into planning a funeral. There were so many things to decide on, about most of which he was clueless. Micah sat in the morbid office and slowly turned the pages of a catalog filled with caskets. He decided on a rose-colored one with soft pink interior. He and Pastor Jackson agreed Helen would be pleased. After deciding that the service should be held in the mortuary’s chapel on Friday, Micah left the rest of the details to his uncle. He sat outside in the car.

  “I contacted the cemetery. Looks like they can lay Helen next to your father,” Pastor Jackson informed Micah when he finally joined him in the car. “We have to work on the obituary and find Helen something to wear, but everything else is planned.”

  “I’ll work on the obituary tonight, and I’ll go downtown to Macy’s first thing tomorrow,” Micah calmly responded. He lay almost flat with the seat reclined all the way back with his hands laced across his chest. His eyes were closed.

  “Do you want to head to the hotel now to check in, or are you up to dinner with your mother’s friend?”

  What Micah wanted more than anything was a scorching hot shower, and then to collapse on a firm bed, but that would only delay the inevitable. In addition, he wanted to hear how his mother spent her last moments. “I can handle dinner,” he finally answered. Pastor Jac
kson called out Lula Murphy’s address, and Micah mumbled the directions without ever opening his eyes.

  Pastor Jackson parked the Chevrolet in front of the brick house on South Hamilton Street. It was an average-looking house, Pastor Jackson thought. But then, so were most of the houses he’d seen so far. To him,, all the brick houses had the basic square design, unlike the contemporary models in the Bay Area.

  Micah adjusted his seat upright and pulled the latch, but stopped short of opening the door. He knew he would see Richard at some point with him being Helen’s pastor. Micah just didn’t know it would be this soon. Physically, Micah was prepared for whatever Richard would throw at him. If Richard so much as put a finger on him, Micah was prepared to lay hands on him. But emotionally, he was way too weak to deal with the mind games that came along with Pastor Richard Lewis.

  “What’s the matter, son?” Pastor Jackson asked, discerning Micah’s hesitation.

  “He’s here.” Micah pointed to the white Lincoln Town Car with license plates reading PTR RTL.

  “Humph, the devil always knows when to show up,” Pastor Jackson replied. “Are you sure you’re ready for this now?”

  Micah looked his uncle in the eyes. “I wasn’t ready for my mother to die, but that didn’t stop her from dying. It doesn’t matter if I’m ready to see him or not; he’s here.”

  Pastor Jackson didn’t like the sarcasm in his nephew’s voice. “Son, your mother’s passing was in God’s will, not ours. I like to think that He took your mother because at that moment she was ready. Whatever the reason, it was His choice; not yours, and not mine. But you have a choice on seeing Richard Lewis or not. If you’re not up to it, we can visit Sister Murphy tomorrow.”

  “I don’t want to see him, but I do want to hear about my mother’s last moments. Unfortunately, Richard played a role in her new life.” Micah pushed the door open and exited the vehicle. He stretched his long frame, and then headed for the steps. Pastor Jackson followed behind, praying. Micah waited until he joined him on the porch before knocking. The door flung open before he had the chance to knock twice.