In a great panic, Mark jumped out of the bed and ran to the bathroom. Staring at himself in the mirror, Mark felt a tremendous sense of self-doubt wash over him, as well as the most overwhelming worry that he ever experienced. He had no idea at all what he should do, could do, or would do. As he fell to the floor, sliding his back down the bathroom wall, he began to cry uncontrollably, sobbing like a baby, knowing that he needed to confess to Shylah what he had done, yet he did not know how he could or when he could do it.
Melina was quickly awakened by the loud sobs from the next room and went to see what was the matter. As she pushed the door open, she couldn't believe what she saw, a grown man sitting on the floor of a hotel bathroom, sobbing onto his crossed arms. "What's wrong, Mark?"
Mark slowly raised his head to see the nude form of someone he imagined to be the only woman capable of matching Shylah in sheer beauty and perfection of body. Mark was speechless. He could not answer at all but could only sit and stare with his mouth agape.
"You're not gonna talk to me? What's wrong," Melina asked, feeling herself becoming aroused from knowing that at least some part of Mark desired her as much as she did him.
"Did we?" Mark could not finish his sentence, more out of desperate hope that nothing had happened the night before and from embarrassment than from his continued awe of the sight set before his eyes.
"Are you asking me if we had sex last night?"
"Yeah. I guess I am," Mark sheepishly and almost inaudibly answered.
"No. We did not have sex. I wanted to, to be honest. I wanted to even before we went out drinking, and I did hope that if I came back here with you that we might do something, but you passed out on the bed before I could even get near you. You had your pants on the entire night, though you did take your shirt off at one point, twirl it around, and say it was a helicopter before you threw it into the trash can and said 'three points!'"
"Oh, thank God," Mark exclaimed, happier than he could remember ever being at any other time in his life. "You don't know what a relief that is!"
"Relief," Melina asked, her head cocked downward and her brows furrowed. "It's a relief that you didn't sleep with me? Am I that ugly? Thank you very much for that vote of confidence. Well, I'm glad I didn't get to try."
"No," Mark pleaded, rising from the floor but quickly sliding back down. Rising once more, he added, "I swear that if I wasn't with somebody, I'd be all over you in a second! To put it as good as I can, and don't think I'm too much of a pervert for sayin' this, but to put it like my friend T. would say it, I'd tear that ass up!"
"You really mean it," Shylah begged, smiling so beautifully that Mark was, once again, in total awe of her.
"Yes. Of course. You crazy? Damn, girl. You're hot as hell, and you look like you'd be wilder'n a buckin' bronc! You look like you could kill a man with your sex!"
"Thank you," Melina blushed, feeling flabbergasted with a newly acquired sense of self value.
"Well, I do mean it. You're a gorgeous woman. If I wasn't attached, I'd be real interested, Ma'am. But I'd do it all proper. I wouldn't be lookin' to ya for just a hookup. I'd take ya out and treat ya like a lady should be treated. I just can't, though. You know how it is. I'm sorry to do this to ya, but I think I'm gonna need to get goin' here in a bit. I got some things needin' tended back home." Mark smirked a sort of coy but assuring expression to Melina, along with a gentle wink.
"No. I don't really know how it is. No guy I was ever with was even a billionth the man you are, but it's great to know that there is at least one truly amazing guy left in this world. Your girl is lucky, and I am definitely very jealous of her. I'll tell you what, Mr. Mark Crady. I know this is a long shot, but if things don't work out, and you're ever passing through a little place called Terre Haute, Indiana, you come and look me up. Ok? I mean it. Even if it's just to hang out and get a beer together. You come by Chili's and ask for Melina Hobbs. I'll make sure to tell people at work that if they ever have a tanned, gorgeous farm boy type with a hot Southern drawl ask for me to give you my phone number." Melina winked and nonchalantly walked from the bathroom and back to the bed, sprawling across it.
Mark walked back into the room, expecting to see Melina at least searching for her clothes but was shocked by what he saw. He didn't feel so weird anymore about seeing Melina naked and did feel a slight amount of temptation swelling in his limbs, but he still knew that he could not act on anything. "Why aren't you puttin' your clothes on?"
"I dunno. Just thought I'd make the offer one last time, Cowboy. You sure, absolutely sure you wanna leave here, knowing you could have had me but didn't?"
Mark knew that even though his body was telling him that he should take Melina's offer, his heart and his mind would never allow him to do so. "No, Ma'am. It's tempting, damn tempting! I can't, though. I really can't. I could not do that to my girl."
Mark hurriedly reapplied his shirt while Melina grabbed up her clothes and threw them back on. Mark agreed to go downstairs and have breakfast with Melina, but after that, he would take a very quick shower and then head back home. He had business to attend to, and it was quite urgent. If there was any chance, any chance at all, to ever find real happiness in this life, it had to be in reuniting with Shylah and living the life that Mark felt had been unfairly stripped from him by terrible luck.
Chapter 24
When Mark arrived at home in the middle of the afternoon, he feared what he might find inside. The lawn was littered with beer cans and bottles, empty mason jars, piles of cigarette butts and other trash, not to mention that the driveway and yard were hidden from view by so many cars and trucks that Mark couldn't count them all. Mark walked into the house to find women running around in bikinis, some without tops, loud music blaring so hard that it vibrated all of the walls and windows, and great, choking clouds of smoke everywhere. Through the haze, Mark could make out a great deal many men lining floors, couches, chairs, and even the hallway. Mark did not know who anyone was or what was going on. Some of the people that could be seen through the smoke looked familiar. Unbeknownst to him, Sara met numerous people at one of the local bars and invited a great many of her friends from Macon.
"What the hell is this," Mark screamed, though few could hear anything that he said.
Mark searched helplessly and hopelessly for Sara to inquire of her what she was doing and why she had allowed such a commotion in her brother's absence. Clearly, she had no respect for anyone, Mark mused. Something must be done right away. Sara would have to be dealt with and quite harshly.
"Hey, Brother," Mark heard a voice announce from somewhere behind him as he strode down the hall toward his bedroom.
Mark turned around to see Sara staring back at him with a joint in one hand and a beer in the other. Turning back in the other direction, Mark peeked into his room to find two naked women and a naked man lying in his bed, seeming not to have gone all the way yet. Mark immediately ran the people out of his bedroom, threatening them with severe physical punishment and notification of the law. Rushing behind them with a baseball bat in his hand, Mark soon came face to face with his sister again.
"Sara, what the hell is this shit you got goin' on in my house," Mark demanded.
"Your house? You mean our house? I live here, too."
"No, Sara. You stay here. You don't actually live here, and this IS MY HOUSE! I own it! You wanna go ask Stan Walker? I got the house. It might not technically be in my name yet, but it is mine! You get what you got comin' to you, and I think maybe that's a hell of a lot more'n you deserve!" Mark glared with eyes of pure, melting fire, blazing hotter than the heat of a thousand suns.
"You really feel that way, Big Brother? You want me out of 'your house?'" Sara held up her hand in which she held the lit joint, making air quotation marks as she spoke, only angering Mark further.
"You ain't got respect for nobody! I think maybe you just got shit for brains! If you can't respect me or my house, yeah, get your shit, and get out of MY HOUSE!"
"Ain't got respect for nobody? Wow. Have you never cracked a book in your life? You hillbillies. Maybe you need to do these things called learning to read and learning to speak as if you have an ounce of sophistication. But hey, relax. Have a smoke with me. Maybe that will mellow you. You're too uptight, Big Brother." Sara smiled as she offered Mark her joint.
Mark, furiously enraged, knocked the joint from Sara's hand and stomped it out with his boot heel. "You like to look down on people? For your information, I am an educated man, more educated than you are. I don't give a damn how you talk or how other people talk, you little bitch! Education don't make ya better'n somebody else or give you the right to treat people like you do! I grew up talkin' like I do. I didn't change just cuz I went off to school! Does that make me worse than you? I'm honestly sick of havin' you here, but I'm not a bit surprised. It took me til now to see it, but Shylah was right about you. You treated her like a dog, and now, you're treatin' me like one! If it wasn't for you bein' a woman, I'd knock you on your damned ass!"
"Somebody's got some big balls," Sara laughingly replied. "I'll go. Fine by me. I have plenty of money now. I could just go buy a nice house around here. I'd probably have like ninety-nine percent of my money left. Maybe I'll just buy the town. What would that cost, about five, maybe six thousand dollars?"
Without saying another word, Mark walked to where it seemed the music was coming from and after locating the stereo, immediately smashed it with his bat, not caring that it was his own stereo. In a tumultuous uproar or noise, Mark began to shout, "Everybody out of my house! You got three choices. You go right now, of your own accord, you wait til I call the law on ya, or ya get hit with this bat! Or maybe, I just go get one of my eight guns! I know how to use every damn one of 'em! You done messed with the wrong man!"
Soon, the house was nearly empty. Thinking that only he and Sara remained, Mark felt quite pleased with himself. He was not about to tolerate any more disrespect or callousness. He felt a change surge through him, a desperately needed one. It seemed, however, soon after that, that there must still be some people in some of the bedrooms. Mark could hear laughter and an occasional shout emanating from upstairs. Mark looked forward to the task now placed at his feet. Dragging his bat along the banister of the stairs, Mark headed to the second floor to check, room by room, for stragglers.
In his mother's bedroom, Mark found a couple engaging in sexual intercourse. This was the final straw for him. "Get your asses up and off my mama's bed! Get out of my house! You got three seconds!" Mark began to pound the baseball bat into his left hand, letting it make a very loud smacking sound as it hit. "One!" *Smack* "Two!" *Smack* *Smack* "Three!" *Smack* *Smack* *Smack*
The couple hurriedly jumped up, scurrying for their clothes, ducking past Mark as he banged the bat again, now aiming it at them as they went by. Mark never planned to do any harm to anyone, but he felt a great deal of pleasure in making everyone think that he might.
After a careful search of the remaining rooms, Mark felt a basic assurance that all of the party guests had left. Heading back downstairs, he met Sara as she walked by. "I thought I told you to go!"
"You were serious about that, Mark?"
"Holy shit! Do I have to spell it all out for you? You hand me your key. You grab your shit! You pack your shit into your car! You start your car! You drive your car anywhere that ain't here!" Mark rushed toward Sara, causing her to flinch in anticipation that Mark might hit her. Mark quickly grabbed the beer out of Sara's hand and shoved her toward the stairs. "Get upstairs. Pack your bags, and get out!"
Sara could barely walk up the stairs, let alone do anything else. She had a considerable beer buzz going and a pretty strong high to boot. Mark guided her the entire way to her/Mrs. Crady's bedroom.
"Do I really have to go, Mark? I'm your sister. Remember? Don't make me go! Please! I'm sorry!" Sara choked back a lump in her throat, but she knew that she didn't care at all about what she had done to the house or to Mark. Her only concerns were not knowing where to go, despite her money, and not wanting to be alone.
Mark started to feel a little bad for Sara, but he knew that he had to stick to his guns. "I'm sorry, Sara. I really am. I wish it didn't have to be this way, but I can't have you here. You're too much of a mess for me. You can visit, but only when I'm here. I need your house key. I can't let you stay here until you learn to respect me, respect this house, and most important to me, learn to respect Shylah. She's my fiancée and the mother of my child. She's not here cuz of you. I gotta fix your messes now."
"Mark, you two got engaged? How'd I not see that? But why do you wanna be with a nigger, Mark? You could find a decent and beautiful white woman to be with. You can take care of your little nigger baby, but you don't need her. Think about it. What would our father say?!"
"You know, I was really gonna give you a chance to prove yourself here. You've done it now. Get your shit, and get out of my house before I pick you up and throw you out! I can do it, too! If I can pick up a grown man, I can sure as hell pick up a spoiled little bitty bitch like you! If I ever heard you talk about Shylah or my child that way again, I will never speak to you again! You got me?!" Mark pushed Sara so hard into the bedroom that she slid across the floor and fell onto the bed.
"You're gonna regret this, Mark Crady! You should've never told me about how much the estate was worth! I'm gonna sue you! I'm gonna get this house and the company and everything you have! You're gonna be livin' on the street with your nigger family! You're disgusting! You're a disgrace to every respectable white on the face of this Earth!" As soon as she finished speaking, Sara spat at Mark, a considerable amount of the saliva landing upon Mark's face.
Mark nearly lost his temper and reached out to punch Sara, but he held back, clenching his fists with every ounce of strength and composure that anyone has ever had to muster. He fell to his knees and prayed fervently for resolution to the troubles he now faced, most of all, to get Sara out of his life forever.
Mark continued praying until well after Sara had gathered her things and walked out of the room. As she passed by Mark, Sara laughed at the sight of a grown man on his knees. She said nothing to him and stormed off down the stairs and out the front door, though she did not leave her house key. She intended to use it whenever she wanted and maybe take a few things of value that she had already been eyeing and had not managed to tuck away with her own belongings. She assumed that if she were ever accused of anything, she could produce the key and claim that Mark had given it to her and never asked for it back. She would say that she had been told that she would always be welcome to come and go as she pleased.
Mark, upon opening his eyes, could not accept that Sara was gone, not because any part of him wanted Sara to stay but because it seemed a far too great thought to behold, so amazing that it could not be true. Mark checked throughout the house and peered out of the front door to where Sara's car had been. Seeing nothing there, he threw his face and hands upward in gratitude to the Almighty.
Mark immediately locked the front door and headed to his truck. He knew that he had to see Shylah right away and convince her to come home with him. When he arrived at the King house, he was surprised to see that there were a large number of people at the house. He worried that something bad might have happened to someone, but quickly finding T.L. in the yard, he learned that they were having a family barbeque and had invited as many of the Kings and the Joneses as possible. Mark knew nearly half of the people that he saw wandering around and emerging from the house, yet so many others were completely unrecognizable.
Mark forced his way through the thicket of people and into the house, the only white face anywhere on the property, except for the spouse of one distant cousin of Darius'. Mark looked painstakingly through the house for Shylah but could not find her anywhere. Finding Mrs. King, Mark asked where Shylah was and learned that she was concealed in her room and that she had not been feeling well. Mark felt a deep dread consume him, thinking that, perhaps, Shylah had experienced s
omething wrong with the baby.
Mark knocked lightly on Shylah's bedroom door and awaited an invitation to enter but heard nothing. He slowly opened the door to find Shylah asleep in her bed, looking wondrously beautiful, perhaps, more so than she had ever looked at any other moment. Mark stood in awe, thinking that that was the real beauty of a woman, not in presenting her naked body to a man she hardly knew, not in throwing herself aimlessly at others, but in her rare, awe-inspiring, natural look and demeanor and in her ability to not care what others thought when they saw her.
Mark lovingly sat beside Shylah and nudged her, slowly waking her. When she saw that it was Mark waking her, Shylah rolled over to ignore him, only muttering, "Get out of my room!"
"Baby, please hear me out. Please."
"What do you want? Was the other girl not enough for you? You come to me lookin' for seconds? Get out!"
"No, Baby! I'll tell you everything. I promise. Nothing happened, not a thing. I swear it! As much as I hate swearin' by the things of God, I'll put my hand to the Bible! I'll risk damnation for you! What good is havin' a soul if you can't have the only woman you've ever really loved?!"
Hearing Mark's words, Shylah was intrigued. She wanted to know more and gradually turned to face her fiancée. "So, what happened then?"
"Ok, so you know how I asked you to go away with me? After a while of not hearin' from ya, I went off and went down to Tampa. I was hangin' out on the beach, ALONE. So, this girl comes up and starts talkin' to me. I ended up talkin' to her for a good spell and went to a bar with her and her friends. I got drunk, and she helped me get back to my hotel room. I was NEVER gonna do a thing with her, never! I guess she did stay there in my room, but I passed out as soon as I got inside. I just thought she was makin' sure I got back. She did come onto me some, but I told her again and again about you, that I could never hurt you like that! I swear nothin' happened! She wanted it to, but nothin' ever did. I wouldn't do that to you! I don't know if I can expect you to believe me, but maybe this'll help. It all made me see what I'd been doin' to you, so I raced home to see you. I got home, and found the house a wreck! Sara was havin' a huge, wild party! I had to run everybody out, includin' her!" Mark felt such a weight off of his shoulders that even if Shylah would not take him back right away, at least, he had the comfort of knowing he had done the right thing.
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