"Hey, Doctor," Shylah broke in, tapping Dr. Patel on the shoulder.
"Yes?"
"Could you maybe put a few staples across his lips while you're at it? I think he needs to watch his mouth, and maybe that'll help."
"I like this one," Dr. Patel informed Mark while pointing to Shylah. "Ees she your wife?"
Mark started to answer that Shylah was not yet his wife but soon would be. Before he could, however, Shylah interrupted. "Yes. I am," giving Mark a quick wink.
"You are a lucky man theen," Dr. Patel responded, shaking his head in approval and what Mark deemed to be a bit of jealousy. "Now, let us geet your staples back een."
"That, I am. I sure am," Mark agreed, staring at Shylah and smiling. Shylah thought it strange yet wonderfully blissful that Mark could not only maintain a genial countenance and attitude during such dire times but that he could think to praise his love for and luck of having his bride-to-be.
It was incredibly painful for Mark to have stomach re-stapled, but at least, he knew, he should have no further worries. The wound was not even as severe as was thought. The impact of the staples pulling out caused profuse bleeding, but the wound had begun to heal quite well in the more than two weeks since it was inflicted upon its victim.
"Now, Soor, I vould say dat your staples come out maybe at end of month. Vee vill geev you name and appointment with doctor for checkup. Ok? I geev you prescription for pain. You be ok. You go have yourself good boorthday now, and I hope you doo not end up back here. Good day too you both." The doctor walked away, with no further words, leaving Mark and Shylah alone.
Finally, they could go home, but Shylah knew that she still had several hours until Mark's party. She had much more to do so that her mother and father would not be stuck doing everything by themselves. Shylah anxiously helped Mark get his shirt on and wheeled him outside to where T.L. and Pearlina were waiting. "He's good to go," she announced to her family. "He pulled out the staples, but he's ok now. New staples. Should be out in a few weeks or so. Ok, everybody. Let's go." Leaning over the back of Mark's wheelchair, Shylah whispered to Mark, "Ok, Baby. I love you. You go with T., though." With a gentle kiss on the top of Mark's head, Shylah pushed him over to her brother.
In no time, everyone was back at the Crady home, but of course, Mark was still not allowed inside. Shylah asked her father to keep Mark occupied while she and T.L. went to town for last minute supplies. There was to be a very large cookout that evening, and many people had been invited. Because both grills would be used, and only one of them was propane, a great deal of charcoal and lighter fluid were needed, as well as candles, drinks, buns, paper plates, cups, and quite a few other things, including all of the meat. Nothing had been bought yet, except for some food. The cakes were done. Several other things were ready or at least, gathered. There seemed to be enough done already that getting the rest so close to the time of the party would not be a major issue.
Darius was clueless as to how he would keep Mark busy while the party was still being planned and set up. All that he knew to do was talk and drink and drink and talk. Hopefully, he thought, Mark would either get the hint and not ask questions or become so involved in focusing on beer and small talk that he would not get the hint and not ask questions. "Maybe," Darius thought, "if I get him talkin' about work, it'll be ok."
Darius rolled Mark into the backyard and went inside to grab a couple of beers, handing one to Mark as soon as he arrived back outside. "Here you go, Mark. Here's a birthday beer."
"Thank you Da... Mr. King. This is what me and T.L. were supposed to be doin', but then, my damn stomach had to open up."
"How is that, by the way?"
"It hurts, but it'll be ok. I probably shouldn't be drinkin' actually, cuz I need to take some pain pills, but oh well. I'd rather have the beer anyway." Both of the men shared a hearty and deep, shaking laugh, clanking their bottles together. Mark worried about laughing so hard so soon after having his staples replaced, but there wasn't much he could do about it.
"So, when you think we might get the plant runnin' again? I don't know 'bout you, but I'm ready to get to workin'!"
"Well, Sir, I'm hopin' for about a month. I think we could do it. I don't know if you saw or not, but the new edition is pretty much done. That's how they do those ready-frame pole barn deals. They're pretty much just doin' electrical and plumbing and stuff now, as far as I know. We get the new machines in and runnin', and we're good to go, just gotta get some people hired and get new supervisors trained. I think we'll be up and goin' so soon, it's gonna be beautiful. And we're gonna run so hard that we'll be turnin' big profits in no time. I plan on, when we get close to opening, havin' a huge employee party, everybody, old employees and new, is gonna be invited. We're gonna have a hell of a blowout to celebrate. I got ideas for it, but if you got anything, go ahead and contribute. This is gonna be the party of the year."
"Sounds good. Gonna have music," Darius asked, seeming as thrilled and excited as a kid on Christmas morning.
"You know it, Sir. I plan on hirin' a band, maybe two, maybe rentin' a big stage and have it out in my yard. Gonna have lots and lots of beer and other drinks, tons of food. Everybody's gonna know that we take care of our own. I think with what all the workers have been through, it's the least to do. They deserve somethin' big for all their trouble." As Mark said this, he once again clanked his bottle on Darius'.
"That'd be good, Mark. Me and the boy, we'll help any way we can. But on another subject, when you and Shylah tyin' the knot?"
"I... I don't know. She's already plannin' stuff, but with everything I got happenin' lately, I haven't really listened to a lot of what she's said about it. I think she has an idea about when it's gonna be. I figure my role in it is pretty much just pay for it all and show up when and where she says. Other than that, it's all on your daughter."
"You know, Son, you gotta have some beer and whiskey when it's done. A man needs to kick back and have a few drinks with his friends before realizin' what he just did. It'll hit you like a ton of bricks when you see that you're now married. Just keep that in mind. Me and T.L. and the other guys from the plant, we'll all be there to remind you and poke fun at ya. Maybe we could poke you with a stick. You're gonna get a lotta laughs, but they're gonna be at you. It'll be fine, though. Marriage can be real good, at times. Sometimes, you wanna just strangle your wife, and other times, you can't believe the Lord give ya such a beautiful and amazing woman to be there for ya and take such care of ya. I know you and Shylah are gonna be happy together. I can see it. I feel just awful I stood in ya'all's way. It wasn't right. I see how happy you make my daughter, and that makes me happy. You're a good boy, always have been. It seems right, even though it took me a while to see it, that my daughter and a guy I already see as a son should be together. Who is there better to take care of her? You make me so proud, and I know you're the best match for my little girl. Of course, you know that if I ever heard of you doin' her wrong, I'm gonna be after ya, but I know you ain't like that." Darius put his arm around Mark's shoulder, the first time that he had done so in a long time. To Mark, it felt very good, very reassuring, and uplifting.
Before long, a few more people arrived and helped Pearlina in the kitchen, putting on last touches on the cakes and other things. Not much later, Shylah and T.L. were back with all of the rest of necessary things, and everything could be gotten underway. By five, dozens had showed up, the place becoming a jungle of sorts, every room and every part of the yard seemingly filled with all that they could hold.
The place was abuzz with the commotions, chatter, and general merriment of so much family and friends, most of them, members of the King-Jones family. Three of Mark's cousins, along with his Aunt and Uncle Merrick were there as well, plus Dan Brady and Lou Sanders and a handful of people from the plant, including the Donovan family; however, the vast majority of faces at the house were of a much darker hue than those few others. It was plain to see that, despite the fact that Mark, Dan, and Lou
had no problem whatsoever with such facets of the party, those few that were of relation to Mark were, to say the least, a bit uneasy about the whole thing. Bobby Dean Merrick commented, from time to time, about how there needed to at least be a more even number of white to black faces in the crowd. He, his brother, and his parents largely kept to themselves and tried, again and again, to drag Mark away from his other guests.
Mark, however, was having the first truly great moment of happiness since his shooting at the hands of his sister. There had been the occasional, brief moment of real joy and of forgetting his troubles, but mostly, nothing had been so great as it was on his birthday. Mark had great difficulty in getting around and could scarcely visit with everyone. Every time that he was stolen away, he was so annoyed that he felt like cursing his family out loud.
Mark was delighted to see Shylah's great-aunt and great-uncle Helen and Ivers Daniels more than he was to see anyone else at the party. He hadn't seen the couple since not long after he and T.L. graduated from high school. The couple lived in Decatur, far enough away that they seldom visited. Mark wanted so badly to throw his arms around Aunt Helen and give her a big kiss on her aged and greatly wrinkled face. It deeply saddened him that he could not do so.
As Aunt Helen stooped, as stiff and decrepit as she was, she open exclaimed, with the greatest of joy that anyone ever saw in the woman, "Why, Mark Crady, give your Aunt Helen a hug! How I have missed you!" Squeezing Mark as tightly as she could, her white hair brushing against the side of his face, Aunt Helen, whispered, "I heard you and my niece are gettin' married! This makes me and Uncle Ivers so happy, Son. You have no idea. If ya'all need anything at all, you call Aunt Helen. You best be invitin' us."
"You know we'd never forget you, Aunt Helen," Mark assured her, squeezing her back more tightly than she had him. "Shylah's in charge of all that stuff, though, but I'll make sure she puts you first on the list."
It was at that moment that Shylah stood up and yelled for attention, struggling to be heard over the loud, clamorous noise of the people, "Excuse me! Excuse me, everybody! Excuse me! Hey, everybody, listen up!! I just want to thank everyone for being here. I know it does Mark good to see all ya'all. He needs all of his family and friends right now with all he's had happen lately. In a minute, we're gonna embarrass him by singin' happy birthday, but first, I want to make an announcement. For those of you who don't know, Mark and I are engaged. We are so happy about it, and we want every one of you to be there on our day. I started workin' with a wedding planner, and she's workin' so fast on this. She's already got so much done. We have a date set, Saturday, December thirteenth. It's gonna be at the First United Church of Christ, with the reception in the Starlight Room at the Southern Hills Country Club. You'll all get invitations soon enough, with more details. I know it's only a little over two months away, but keep the date open. That's all. Thank you, everybody."
Aunt Helen, with her hand grasping Mark's, turned to Shylah. Leaning on her shoulder, she begged of her great-niece to know how she had booked such a fancy location for her reception.
"Well, Mark's dad was a member there, so they were happy about havin' it. Plus, I offered them a ton of money. Mark said he doesn't care about the cost, so, I called there and got them to agree to it. They didn't have anything booked for that day, so I just got really lucky. I still have to send them the deposit so they don't book it for somebody else."
"So," Aunt Helen, giddy with excitement, continued, "How far along are you now, Baby?"
"Just over eight weeks, Aunt Helen."
"Oh, you got a long way to go, Baby, but it'll get here. I bet ya'all are real excited. I know when I heard the news, I couldn't believe it. You gonna have to let Aunt Helen come down and help you out some. I can't wait to see it. You and Mark are gonna make the most beautiful of babies! I know that back in my day, a woman who got in that way without bein' married was called many names, but nowadays, it ain't considered so bad as it was back then. It is the right thing that you're gettin' married. It's what God wants. Believe me, Child. He does. I can't wait to see you in your weddin' dress. You got one picked out yet?"
"Not yet, but that's next on my list. I know this might sound bad, but since Mark has so much money and said he doesn't mind spendin' a lot, I have been lookin' at some really pretty ones that aren't that cheap. I'm afraid to just get one, though, without askin' him first. I don't know. I know it's gonna work out. I've prayed about this so much. I keep gettin' the feelin' that God is really lookin' out for us. Mark's had so much bad luck lately with gettin' hurt, but maybe that just means we're gonna be blessed that much more." Shylah's face shone so brightly, so beautifully, that Mark could not take his eyes off of her.
Mark could not understand how he had been so lucky to have Shylah. She was his light, his life, his love, his hope for happiness. She was everything that he wanted and the only one that he could imagine ever feeling such things about or spending his life attempting to please. Shylah, even with her hair a bit stringy and clinging to her face from the intensity of the day's heat, dressed in old, faded clothes, with hardly a spot of makeup on, looked as if she were an angel that had somehow been brought to Earth just for Mark.
Shylah slowly moved away from Aunt Helen's side and standing behind Mark, leaned over the back of his wheelchair, letting her arms slide down his chest. "I love you so much, Baby," Shylah said, kissing Mark over and over and his head, sweaty as it was. "You got a lot of sweat on you. You're wet like you just got out of the shower. Ugh. But I hope you're havin' fun. This is all for you, my handsome, wonderful man."
"Thank you, Baby," Mark responded, placing his hand on Shylah's wrist. "I love it. Thank you. So, December thirteenth, huh? Southern Hills? You never told me this stuff."
"Like you would've listened. I've tried to tell you, but you don't pay any attention. But speaking of all that, I was wondering if maybe you might think about putting me on a bank account or starting one, just enough money for me to pay for all the wedding stuff and groceries and other stuff we need without me havin' to bother you. Plus, I don't really want you to know everything that I wanna get for our wedding. I wanna surprise you with some of it. I do need to tell you about the dress, though. The one I want... I don't think you're gonna like this, but it's almost eight thousand dollars. I won't get it if you don't want me to. I can get a much cheaper one. It's just that this one is the one I want. It is so gorgeous and so fancy. I'd feel like a real queen in it. Other stuff, I'm not spending quite so much on." Shylah grew more and more frightful of Mark's possible reaction. She worried that she might be overstepping and possibly, angering him.
"No, Baby. I told you you could have whatever you want. It's all up to you. I've got all that insurance money comin' soon, speakin' of which, I need to get ahold of Stan Walker. Money's not a problem. You get whatever you want. If I get that money soon, I'll start an account with both our names on it, one with plenty of money in it for you to always have some when you need it. No worries, Baby. What are we doin' about the honeymoon, though?"
"I don't know. I love the thought of bein' somewhere with a beach and palm trees and fruity drinks and stuff. Maybe Jamaica or the Bahamas or somethin'. We gotta go see a travel agent or somethin' and see what they can do, if there's enough time. We can't put it off til after the baby's born, or we'll never get to go. What about a cruise that goes all through the Caribbean? How's that sound?"
Mark thought about it for only a brief moment and quickly and resoundingly added, "That sounds awesome, Baby. That'd be cool with me. Maybe they even have some that stop in some of those places so we can have a little bit of time maybe in Jamaica and a little bit somewhere else. Just gettin' away from home, just me and you, no troubles, no responsibilities, celebratin' bein' man and wife, sounds great! We'll go see somebody soon and see what they can tell us."
"Mmmm. I love you so much, my sweaty man," Shylah chortled. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Meanwhile, Darius, T.L., Dan, Lou, and a few of Darius'
and T.L.'s coworkers were sitting around one of the picnic tables, drinking beer and watching as Aaron Jones and Darius' brother, Josiah "Josey Joe" King kept themselves busy, manning the grills. Mountains of fresh meat had already been cooked and piled high, yet there was far more left to be cooked. Everyone who witnessed the piling on of the sumptuous flesh felt their mouths salivating uncontrollably, their stomach rumbling with anticipation, their hands twitching with nervous excitement.
"Mr. King," Lou suddenly chimed in as Darius' eyes fixated themselves on the monumental amounts of meat. "Mr. King?"
"Yeah," Darius finally answered.
"When you think the plant's gonna be openin' up? Mark promised me a job there. I'm just curious as I'll get out."
"About a month, he said. You know, you could end up workin' for me, Lou Sanders. I'm gonna be a supervisor now," Darius touted, placing his thumbs under his arms to show that he was "bit stuff" now.
No sooner than Darius finished this ejaculation of braggadocio, Shylah signaled for the singing to begin. The entirety of the back and side yards were filled with a heavy chorus of, "Happy birthday to you...," to Mark's great embarrassment, exactly what Shylah had hoped for.
The rest of the evening went surprisingly well and surprisingly fast. Everyone seemed to get along well, even Mark's family with Shylah's. The Merricks did not hold the same extremities of view that Thomas Crady held when he was still living, but they occasionally felt ill at ease when they were outnumbered by so many people of different color than their own. Aaron Jones, on the other hand, felt a great uneasiness for a different reason.
Under the Cypress Moon Page 51