Life's A Cappella

by Smith, Yessi

I no longer felt human, but wasn’t worthy enough to consider myself an animal. An animal would fight, but I was too weak, too scared to fight.

  From my corner of this little universe, I had too much time to think, but not enough capacity to retain any wisdom I might have gained from this experience. My brain wanted to shut down with the rest of my body, but my heart wouldn’t let me. It just kept on beating. So one day, I started singing, sometimes rapping. My very own a cappella about my screwed up life.

  My mother had done this to me. My mother, whose desperation for drugs overshadowed everything else, including her daughter whom she had sold. Not for the first time. But definitely the longest.

  The men would be back soon, I knew. And then it’d be worse. They’d touch me, whispering words meant only for lovers. They’d hit me, kicking me as if I were nothing more than a pile of garbage they were too lazy to dispose of. They’d shackle me to their walls, reveling in my screams and my cries.

  In return, I punished them the only way I knew how and I taught myself how not to cry.

  With each unshed tear, the fists came harder, the kicks more determined, the sex more violating. Still, I wouldn’t cry.

  So they left me outside in a cage. Sometimes days would go by before I saw them again. And then I’d have to beg them for meager handouts of food and water. But then they’d need me again, grabbing me by my hair and taking me into their house. Their bodies demanded from me, their breath hot on my skin, revolted me.

  Still, I wouldn’t cry. So they came up with even crueler forms of punishment. A sort of game to see who could break me. But they didn’t understand. How could they break something that was already broken?

  So I let them starve me, abuse my body, take what they wanted. And I’d fill my head with lyrics I’d made up while caged in what had become the only form of sanctuary I had left. Driven mad by my defiance, one of them tried to strangle me and for a second I thought I’d finally be set free. The others stopped him, deciding rape was a better alternative for all of them. But my soul went a cappella, leaving my body long enough so these men couldn’t strip me of the only thing I had left –music.

  Over two months passed before my salvation came in the form of my mother. School had started and the only way she could continue to receive welfare was if I was in school. So she rescued me, but only to rescue herself.

  I clawed my way out of my dream, crying, screaming, not wanting any of it to be true. Only to wake up to another nightmare. Restrained, unable to move, I started to punch, kick, whatever I had to do to set myself free. Refusing to let fear take me hostage again, I fought against the confines that held me down, leaving me claustrophobic. In my hysteria, I didn’t realize it was Trent holding me, trying to soothe me.

  Shaking, I looked into his terrified eyes and crumbled onto him. He held me, smoothing my hair, kissing the top of my head, but I was inconsolable.

  “It was just a dream, Erin,” he whispered repeatedly while I shook my head at him.

  It hadn’t just been a dream. It was real. It was a part of my life.

  It felt like hours had passed before I finally stopped crying. But I couldn’t stop my body from shaking, so I stopped trying. As I had wanted to do after Camilla’s death, I let Trent take care of me, hold me, console me. And in his arms I told him.

  I told him about the worst thing my mother had ever done to me. I told him what those men had done to me. I told him how music had saved my life.

  I told him and I trusted him. And with his tears streaming down his face for my pains and suffering, I found unconditional love. I found the comfort that came with that love. I found that pain could be shared, thereby lessening the weight of that pain. I found that I could comfort at the peak of my own distress. I found Trent; the only one who knew the song of my heart.

  Chapter 36

  Erin

  Nate met us at the airport and Shayna flew into his arms when she saw him. When she finally let go of him, I hugged him, the brother God had forgotten to give me. Bound by the same desire to protect Shayna and me, Nate and Trent greeted each other, like old friends.

  We made a quick stop at our hotel before heading to Dan’s diner for a late lunch where I introduced Trent to the best burgers in the history of ever. Dan took a break from his work to sit with us.

  “You know,” I told Trent, winking at Dan, “Dan was my first boyfriend.”

  “It’s true,” Dan told him, while Shayna looked at Dan wide eyed, too young to realize we were teasing one another. “She near broke my heart when she left me.” He winked back at me. “Now she’s back, I got half a mind to win her back.”

  “Easy, old man,” Nate told his father, shaking his head at Shayna in mock horror as she stared at us confused.

  “Trent is ours.” Shayna shook her head at Dan, angry at his words, and I smiled at Trent who smiled back at me before kissing Shayna on her head.

  “That’s right,” Trent told her, hugging Shayna to his side.

  “Well, there ya have it,” Dan laughed.

  As we waited for our food, I told Shayna our plans to move into Trent’s apartment once we got back from Alabama, and she was excited about the idea of all her baby dolls being under the same roof together. Apparently the separation was causing them anxiety.

  We ended the night early in anticipation of our upcoming busy day. Tomorrow I was going to adopt my sister.

  While having breakfast the following morning, Trent suggested I drink green tea rather than coffee. You know, to help ease my nerves. And I nearly threw my mug at him. Green tea, I shook my head at him.

  But I made sure to only drink one cup of coffee. Because, as Trent had pointed out, my nerves were already too strung out, my heart already pounded too quickly, my brain already began its punishment that I felt behind my eyes. Maybe tea would have been a better option.

  Even with his smile and calm demeanor, the judge still intimidated the crap out of me. I knew the adoption was already a done deal and that we were here for formalities, but I stared at him, with my heart in my throat, knowing at any moment he could strip everything I had worked for away. He could change his mind and forever change my life.

  As he had done before, he called me to his bench, and I walked towards him, stealing a quick glance at Shayna who bounced on her seat next to Trent.

  “I understand you want to adopt your little sister,” he told me, words reminiscent of the last time I stood before him.

  I nodded my head and smiled at him confidently. “Yes, sir.”

  “The individuals managing Shayna’s case believe you are a good fit for her,” he paused, and I felt the dryness in my throat extend into my mouth and forced saliva in my mouth to ease it before swallowing quietly. “Do you agree?”

  Again, I nodded my head. “Yes, sir. Shayna,” I said looking back at her, “is happy back in Miami. She does ballet five days a week while I work. After I pick her up we have dinner and play together, sometimes at home, but a lot of time on the beach. She likes the sand and to play on the shore,” I told him, smiling at our memories. “We haven’t met any kids her age yet, but I signed up for a Mommy and Me class that we’re going to start next week. I figured it’d be good for her to play with kids her own age. But she has formed a lot of positive relationships back home with my friends and the older kids at ballet school. She’s very much loved.”

  “What about you?” he asked, and I looked at him questioningly. “You’ve told me how well your sister has adapted, but how have you adapted?”

  “Oh.” I shrugged my shoulder, probably too relaxed considering where I was. “It was an adjustment, sure, but overall not anything hard. Actually, I love waking up knowing Shayna’s with me and that she will soon wake up and talk so much she’ll make my eyes cross. Honestly, I thought I was the one doing the good deed here when I took Shay in. But she’s done more good for me than I could ever do for her.” I looked again at my little sister and felt my heart expand. “She’s made me a better person, a happier person. I feel li
ke I’ve finally found my purpose in life,” I told him, not knowing what else to say.

  The judge nodded at me and asked me to return to my seat beside Shayna and Trent. Holding her in my lap, with my fingers wrapped around Trent’s, I waited for the judge to speak. To make my world right and make me my little sister’s mom. And he did. Fairly unceremoniously.

  It all felt too surreal, too good for it to be actually happening to me. But all I had to do was look into Trent’s smile and know it was true. I had a family. I had my little sister. And I had Trent, who was grinning at me so widely I thought his lips might crack. And Nate who shouted so loud, he startled the security personnel in the room. And me. I had myself, whose strength was far greater than I could have ever imagined.

  Afterwards, we went to Dan’s diner, who had closed for the day so we could celebrate as loudly as we wanted. Rather than having Dan cook for us, we ordered pizza. I let Shayna make as many trips as she wanted to the fountain drink station, figuring one night of junk food and sugar wouldn’t hurt her. We were celebrating after all. And what better way was there to celebrate?

  I couldn’t help but think of my mother and all the wrong she had done. But I found that the anger and hatred I had held onto so tightly didn’t seem relevant anymore. Not when her very acts led me to where I was. I looked at Trent, Shayna and Nate and knew I wouldn’t erase a single bad memory because it had brought me to them. Every loop life had thrown at me was responsible for where I stood today. I had to live through it all so I could get to them. I thought of Camilla and felt blessed beyond words to have had a best friend, a sister, like her.

  My mother was the one who had missed out on so much. Her addictions had forced her to live alienated from society. It had taken over her every thought so that nothing else in the world mattered. And I felt sorry for her. She’d never gotten the chance to get to know her daughters or to understand what love could do for you.

  It was her addictions, not her, that were to blame. And I found that I wanted to forgive her. To tell her that she was finally free of her own form of self-deprecation and torture.

  I went to Trent, who held a sleeping Shayna in his arms, and, seeing that it was after two AM, decided it was time to go back to our hotel. I gave Dan a kiss, thanking him for the party and hugged Nate, my brother, and asked him if he’d watch Shayna tomorrow. I wanted to put my mother to rest.

  ***

  The following morning, I woke up before Trent or Shayna. I quietly got out of bed, trying not to wake either of them up, as I made my way to the lobby for coffee. I held the steaming cup in my hands, hoping it would warm me. Already the knot in my stomach threatened me if I even considered drinking the coffee.

  Just a few hours ago I had asked Trent to go to the cemetery with me later that day. In a way he’d be meeting my mother for the first time, I thought and laughed at my stupid sense of humor. I wasn’t sure what to expect or rather how I’d react to seeing my mother’s gravesite. I mean, I knew what to expect as I’d been to cemeteries before. I didn’t have to wonder too long who had buried her. Nate had. Of course he had. Another debt I could never repay him. I wondered if he had bothered with a headstone. Probably.

  Trent and Shayna met up with me a little after ten and Shayna crawled into my lap, making herself comfortable as Trent prepared his coffee. Noticing my coffee was cold and untouched, he made me a cup of tea. I rested my head on top of Shayna’s and watched him. And silently sent up a prayer that one day Trent would really be ours. That the three of us could one day be a family. As in marriage. Holy shit, marriage. I waited for the fear to set in, but it didn’t. I took the cup of tea from Trent and sipped slowly, trying to see myself as Trent’s wife. I could do it, I thought. For Trent I could do just about anything.

  After a small breakfast, we drove Nate’s car to his house and left Shayna with him while we made our way to the cemetery.

  “What do you want to listen to?” Trent asked me, switching stations, trying to find something other than country.

  “Country’s fine,” I told him, smiling at the uncertain look he shot me.

  “Says la gringa that likes rap.” He rolled his eyes at me.

  “Bite me,” I retorted, so he did.

  I grew quiet as we neared the cemetery. So quiet I was sure Trent could hear my heart bashing itself against my chest, trying to find its way out of the confines of my body. My mother was in here. My mother who had abused me, neglected me, and never cared for me. My mother who I had left, hoping to never see again. At least I got that wish. I’d never see her again.

  And my heart ached for the life we might have had had our fate been different. I yearned for the gentle caress of a mom who cared. For the encouraging words of a mom who believed. For the understanding hug of a mom who loved.

  While I hadn’t had that mom, Shayna would. So I thanked my mom for leaving me Shayna, who had taught me how to love, how to care for another, how to be understanding.

  “I forgive you, Mom,” I told her, holding onto Trent’s hands tightly. “You couldn’t be what I needed, but that’s okay. I’ve moved on and forgive you. And, as crazy as it sounds, I want to say thank you,” I laughed. “Thank you for bringing me up the way that you did. I’m stronger because of it.” I closed my eyes, wanting to tell her I loved her, wanting it to be true. But it was a lie. I didn’t love her, but that was okay. “You’re free now,” I told her. Free of her addictions. Free of any regrets she may have.

  I walked away from my mother knowing I’d never return to this place. And felt free. Finally free at last.

  With Trent in the driver’s seat, I guided him through the roads that eventually led us to the mobile home I had lived in before leaving Alabama. The mobile home Shayna had lived in and where my mother had died. It was a small mobile home community in the middle of a large swampy area.

  I got out of the car and walked towards the home, noting no one had lived in it for a long time.

  “We should burn it,” I told Trent, only half-joking.

  “With fire?” he asked, scrunching his eyebrows up to his forehead.

  “No, with dog crap,” I told him and hopped away from him before he could smack my ass.

  He rolled his eyes at me and chased me until I was in his arms. “You know,” he whispered into my ear, giving me goose bumps, “arson is a felony. But I’m willing to go to jail for you.”

  “Jail?” I joked. “What kind of cop are you if you get caught?”

  “An honest one. But I’m willing to break the rules, a compromise between arson and destruction of property.”

  “You’re so sexy when you talk cop to me,” I told him, inching my face towards him until our lips met.

  “Stop distracting me,” he said, nudging me away as he looked at the ground. I watched him, wondering what he was doing, until he bent down and picked up a fist sized rock. “Here,” he handed it to me. “Pick a window.”

  “Just one window?” I asked, and he nodded. I walked around the house until I was at the back, staring at my room. I grinned at Trent. “Ready?” I asked, and he nodded.

  I took my time, turning the rock in the palm of my hand, remembering the good and the bad that had happened in that room. On a smile, I launched the rock through the window and heard a satisfied crash.

  We looked around us like two children not wanting to get caught and broke into a fit of laughter.

  “Which is your mom’s room?” Trent asked me, and I nodded toward the window beside us.

  Trent picked up a larger rock and I laughed at the concentration on his face just before he threw it perfectly through my mother’s window. To our excitement, the window shattered. But we weren’t able to enjoy its beauty because we heard a neighbor yell at us, threatening to call the police.

  Out of breath, I continued to laugh in the car.

  “Thank you,” I told Trent, holding onto his hand, still smiling at our debauchery.

  “Anything else you want to destroy?”

  “Nah, I think I’m go
od,” I told him, turning my attention to my phone. With my spare hand, I looked through my music files until I found Real by Kendrick Lamar. When I left Alabama, I had a certain plan that I was determined to follow, but as most plans tend to do, it never came to pass. But plan B was much better. Plan B had brought Shayna to me and me to Trent. Making my existence real and meaningful.

  Chapter 37

  Shayna

  She was sad she had to say goodbye to Nate again, but he promised he’d visit her soon. Maybe for her birthday in January. She was ready to go back home though. To the beach, to Tia Sofie and ballet, to her home with Erin and Trent.

  Nate had told her Erin was her mom now, which meant she could call her mom if she wanted to. And she did want to. She thought Erin would like it, too.

  She knew she’d never see Momma again. Because the police had saved her and brought her to her big sister, who was now her mom. Mom. Mommy. That’s what she’d call her. Mommy. Because mommies were nice like Erin. Mommies loved their babies the same way Erin loved her. Happy, she bounced off her bed to wake up Mommy.

  Chapter 38

  Erin

  “Mommy!” Shayna demanded, bouncing on Trent and my bed. I opened my eyes to Shayna’s smiling face and, oblivious of what she had said, I forced her down so she could lie down between Trent and me. “Mommy,” she said again, her smile staring into my eyes, which had grown larger in a matter of seconds.

  Mommy. She called me Mommy. I grabbed Shayna and held her closely to me, my eyes stinging from the sudden onslaught of tears they were forced to produce.

  “That’s right, Shay,” I told her, feeling a lightness in my heart I’d never felt before. “I’m your Mommy.”

  Trent looked at us from his pillow, his happiness for us obvious in his eyes. I wasn’t just a Mom, I was Shayna’s Mommy. Damn, it felt good.

  I lay Shayna back down beside us and sang her a lullaby until she fell back to sleep. I listened to her and Trent’s steady breathing, my own lullaby, and did mental back flips. She had called me Mommy. It didn’t matter that she had woken us up while the sun was still deep in slumber in order to do so. It didn’t matter that I probably wouldn’t go back to sleep. My joy over her words, her trust in me overshadowed all of that.