Paxton's Peace

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Paxton's Peace Page 5

by Bailey West


  I tightened my grip on his throat after each question. I could feel the man’s life seeping through my fingers as I held onto his neck. I started to hear whispers of people saying, “Let him go.” “This is not how we handle things.” The voices started to get louder, and I realized that my team had been trying to free him from my grasp the entire time. The fog was lifting, and the realization of a dying man in my grasp made me immediately drop him.

  He fell to the floor with a thud and landed on his side, still tied to the chair, gasping for air.

  “The General found the mole. As we speak the rest of this team is being taken down, for good. You and your family are good,” Ace said.

  I looked around the room at my team. I nodded my appreciation, turned on my heels and left the warehouse. True to their word, I never received another threat.

  Olivia

  It had taken a while for me to move forward after losing my baby. I cried a lot. I questioned a lot. I thought that a baby would finally give me the chance to have someone in my life that loved me unconditionally. My baby would always acknowledge me in public, unlike my father. My baby wouldn’t want me to be prim and proper to fit into a society that I wasn’t born into, unlike my mother. My baby would see me through the lens of love, unlike my husband, who looked at me with pure hate in his eyes. Then, I decided that a baby with Mason would have been a disaster. I don’t think he should ever procreate. One Mason is enough. I took precautions to ensure I never got pregnant again.

  I had arrived at the Belton’s house looking for my mother. I hadn’t seen her for several days and wanted to spend some time with her.

  I rang the doorbell, and to my surprise, Mrs. Belton opened the door.

  “Olivia!” she smiled.

  “Ummm, Mrs. Belton, hi. What are you doing answering the door? I thought my mother was here?”

  “Despite what you may think Olivia, I know how to open the door. I’m not that rich. I mean I am pretty rich, but, you know what I mean,” she laughed.

  “I didn’t mean any disrespect…”

  “Child hush and come in this house! You can visit with me until your mother comes back. She was expecting you but had to run a quick errand. She will be back soon.”

  She pulled me into the house and closed the door behind me. She looped her arm in mine, and we walked onto the sun porch in the back of the house.

  “Have a seat. I have some sweet tea and some cookies that I baked. Try my cookies and let me know what you think.”

  I sat down while she poured me a cup of tea and placed two cookies on a saucer in front of me.

  “Thank you,” I smiled.

  She settled herself in the chair across from me then said, “So Olivia, tell me what’s been going on?”

  “Well, nothing much. I am finishing up my Doctorate. I think I want to transition to the executive levels of education.”

  “Wow, sweetheart, that is great! What are you hoping to accomplish?”

  “I’m the vice principal now, but I would love to move into the district office where I can affect policies and curriculum. I want to make changes to the way all children are instructed and not just the ones at my school.”

  “I’m proud of you, sweetheart. Your mother is also. She talks about you all the time.”

  She smiled. “I hope you don’t mind but to be honest with you, I sent your mother away on a task because I wanted to speak with you one on one.”

  The feeling of dread and fear swept through me immediately.

  “Oh, my goodness, is mommy okay? Is she sick or something?”

  “No, no. This has nothing to do with your mom. Mabel is fine. She’s my best friend even though she’s my employee. She’s my confidante as I am hers. She told me that you told her that Mason hits you, is that true?”

  I felt the tears coming. After what I’d just experienced with losing the baby, I couldn’t sit through another “he is just a man” speech. I couldn’t bear to hear that “he beat your baby out of your body because men just have a way about themselves.”

  “Yes,” I finally answered. “It’s true.”

  I braced myself for her response. I had already decided that when she started talking foolishness, I was going to leave. I was going to stand up and walk right out. I don’t care if she is my mother’s friend/employer.

  “Mabel also told me that she told you some stupid shit, excuse my French, about men, have a way about themselves or some bull, right?”

  I looked up and met her eyes, “Yes, she did say that.”

  “Well, let me tell you something, black woman to black woman. If a male puts his hands on you in anger, he is not a man. If he can call you a name that makes you think less of yourself or belittles you, then he doesn’t love you. Why are you staying with him?”

  Finally, someone understands!

  “I want to leave Mrs. Belton. I do so bad! Now more than ever, but I’m scared. I want to tell you something but please don’t tell my mother.”

  “I promise, unless you are thinking of committing a crime or hurting yourself then I will tell her in front of you.”

  “No ma’am, well, I have considered murder, but he’s not worth me spending the rest of my life behind bars,” I smiled, then continued, “I was pregnant. Mason and I got into a bad argument. He hurt me so bad that I lost the baby. After that happened, I knew I had to leave.”

  “Oh, my goodness, Olivia. When did this happen?”

  “A few months ago.”

  “Is that when your mother hadn’t heard from you for about a week?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I was in a private hospital.”

  “That motherfu…”

  I broke down and cried. She pulled me into a hug and held me until the tears stopped.

  “I didn’t want to tell Mommy because I just don’t think I can take her half a man is better than no man speech. I think I might lose it.”

  “I understand. Look, let’s come up with a game plan to get you out of that marriage. How does that sound?”

  “Amazing!”

  “We won’t tell Mabel of my involvement. Can you promise me that?”

  “Yes, I promise.”

  “Good. Let’s make some plans.”

  7

  I woke up extra early this morning to prepare myself for this interview. I’d laid out my clothes for the interview the night before. I chose my blue and white satin dress that stopped mid-calf, with large-scale dark blue tulip print all over it. The dress had a matching jacket that is the same length as the dress. I wore my blue block heeled shoes with it and opaque pantyhose. My mother told me to wear a slip just in case the dress is see through. Both the dress and the jacket are fully lined, but I put the slip on just to be on the safe side.

  I left my house with plenty of time to get to the location, but as soon as I got into Bessie and turned the key, nothing happened.

  “Oh no, come on Bessie. Not today, please! This is too important. I need you to start.”

  This was not the first pep talk I’ve had to give Bessie. Bessie is my 2002 Chrysler Concorde. I purchased her from an older lady during my last year of undergrad. The previous owner only drove her when she went to the store and church, so she didn’t have many miles on her. I turned the key again after I rubbed the dashboard. Bessie started right up.

  “Thank you, Bessie. I promise I am going to let you retire once I land this position.”

  I pulled up to the building following the instructions on the email that I’d received. This would be the first round of interviews to become the Director of a new academy that was opening. I was so excited that my application had been selected.

  I walked into the elegantly decorated office and was greeted by a woman sitting behind a large polished wood desk.

  “Good morning,” I spoke and extended my hand. She offered her hand, and we shook. “My name is Olivia Callahan. I have an interview this morning.”

  “Good morning. Yes, Ms. Callahan. Please have a seat. Someone will be with you shortly.”r />
  I found the first empty chair and sat down. I waited for about ten minutes before the receptionist said, “Ms. Callahan, please follow me to the back. They are ready for you.”

  I stood to my feet and took a deep breath. I smoothed down my dress and adjusted my jacket then followed the receptionist. We walked a short distance down a hall past several offices. She knocked on the door then opened it. I followed her in.

  “Bishop and Lady Bluette, this is Ms. Olivia Callahan,” the receptionist announced to a couple sitting behind a desk.

  It had been almost two years since I sat down with Mrs. Belton and planned my escape. The first thing we did was assess my financial standing. Could I leave Mason and survive financially? If not, how much would I ask for in the divorce? Would I stay in Willow Hill or move away? I decided that a fresh start would be best. I opened a separate checking and savings account. I funneled every paycheck that I received into those accounts and did some fancy bookkeeping so Mason wouldn’t notice. I started researching where I wanted to live and how much money I would need to make a clean break. The second thing was to double down on the self-defense classes that I was taking. I was determined to never be hit by him or anyone ever again.

  Mason hadn’t touched me since the miscarriage. No hitting and no sex. Both were fine with me. I never enjoyed sex with him anyway. He was a terrible lover. He only thought of himself and what pleased him. My pleasure was never his goal.

  I think Mason could feel the shift in my personality after the miscarriage. I was over him and this marriage. I could feel the shift in our relationship. I knew that it was about to come to a head and I tried my best to prepare for it.

  I set a date to leave him. I had already spoken to a lawyer that Mrs. Belton found for me. I had a sixty-day countdown calendar. Every morning I woke up and crossed off another day. At the end of the sixty days, I was moving away and filing for a divorce. It was still Mrs. Belton’s and my secret. I hadn’t included my mother in on my plans. I didn’t need her trying to convince me to stay with him.

  Mason came home on day forty-five and decided that he wanted to start an argument with me. We had barely spoken, so he was on one for no reason.

  “Olivia!” He called my name as soon as he walked through the front door. I didn’t answer because I didn’t feel like it. I was over always being at his every beck and call. I had recently been confronted over the phone by a woman that works for his company. She told me that Mason didn’t love me. He loved her and was going to divorce me and marry her. I laughed. Hard. I responded with congratulations, I hope you both are very happy together. I didn’t even mention it to him because I could care less. Please leave me!

  “Olivia!” I heard him getting closer to my location. “I know you hear me calling you!”

  He walked past my office then doubled back when he saw me at my desk. I sat up in my chair and looked at him without responding.

  “Are you deaf?”

  “No, I’m not deaf. I heard you. I just didn’t want to respond.”

  He walked up on me, and I stood from my chair. He looked me up and down like he was sizing me up.

  “You’re standing up like you have something to say.”

  “You are in my office. What do you want?”

  He got closer and pointed his finger in my face.

  “I told you I needed those checks delivered to my office today!”

  “Get your finger out of my face,” I pushed his hand out of my face and stepped back.

  “Who the fuck you think you talking to?” He moved forward.

  “Mason,” I exhaled, “the checks are on your desk in your office.”

  “That’s not what I told you to do!”

  “Don’t raise your voice to me again. I’m a grown woman. I am not a child,” I rolled my eyes and stepped back again. I knew he was about to try something stupid.

  “Don’t make me remind you of who I am.”

  “I’ve always known who you are. You ain’t nothing but a sorry sack of shit that the doctor should have smothered as soon as that bitch pushed you out of her overused coochie.”

  My words stunned him for a second. I watched as his eyes glassed over and turned dark. He reached back to swing on me. I ducked, and he missed. The look of shock on his face sent waves of satisfaction through me causing a huge smile to form. His nostrils flared, and I could see the veins in his neck poking out. He swung again. I ducked then came up from a squatted position and hit him dead center in the nuts. I punched him with the intention of shoving them shits back into his body. I hit him so hard that I wanted his balls to think twice about ever dropping again. I waited until he bent over to grab himself then I hit him on the nose with a paperweight that I grabbed off the desk behind me. He yelled like a wounded hyena.

  “You bitch,” he cried while trying to lunge for me with dark red blood squirting from his face. I saw the fear and anger in his eyes. I moved again and ended up behind him.

  “I hope you bleed to death asshole,” I yelled as I kicked him in the ass before I ran out of that house, out of his life and into my new life.

  “Miss…I’m sorry, Doctor Callahan, please have a seat,” Lady Bluette read from a piece of paper while motioning toward the seat on the other side of the desk.

  I chose a seat and sat down. I was a ball of nerves, but I was trying not to let it show. I’d put my resume out on a job hunting website and received a call about becoming a director of a new Academy that would be opening soon. I’d already had a phone interview with the company that found my resume. This interview would be one of two if I made it past this one.

  Bessie and I had been in Houston for over a year. I had saved enough money to live comfortably for a while. I found a cute house to rent, and Mrs. Belton gave me enough money to pay my rent for a couple years. I refused to take the money from her at first, but she insisted.

  “Good morning. As Daisy stated, I am Bishop Roland Bluette, I am the Pastor of Abundant Blessing Church in New York. This is my wife, Lady Grace Bluette. My son, Pastor Roman Bluette is the Pastor here at Abundant Blessings Church-Houston. It has been a long-time goal of Pastor Bluette to open an Academy. He and his new wife, Zanetta, have worked diligently to find the right candidate to run this Academy. Are you ready to start the interview?”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Yes, I am ready to begin,” I smiled.

  “Good. Doctor Callahan,” Bishop Bluette continued, “can you tell us about yourself?”

  “I’ve been in education since I graduated from undergrad ten years ago. I am passionate about molding young minds and sending them out to make a positive impact on the world. I’ve recently moved from the Savannah, Georgia area to Houston. I am ready to apply the same quality and integrity to a position in education here, as I did in Georgia.”

  I looked at them to see if I would get a wink or a head nod letting me know I’d answered that question well. They both had excellent poker faces.

  “Doctor Callahan you've been in the classroom up to this point, why do you feel that you, as a female, can run an entire school consisting of hundreds of people when you've only been responsible for maybe thirty?” Lady Bluette looked at me with a smug expression that almost made me mad, but I understood the game. She was trying to shake me.

  “Actually, Lady Bluette, I have been out of the classroom for a few years now. My last position was Vice-Principal of Willow Hill High School. Even if I was still in the classroom and was only responsible for thirty children at a time, my reach extends further than just those thirty children. Because my words have power and life and they come from a place of sincerity, they give life and hope. Those thirty people will tell thirty other people, so my influence reaches far beyond a classroom. As far as being a woman, women are designed to follow and lead. My ability to lead is a direct reflection of my ability to follow. I am a great follower which makes me a great leader. I was consistently given accolades and awards as a classroom teacher. As Vice Principal, the teachers that I had ch
arge over consistently excelled. As the Director of an Academy, I would apply the same principles and make the entire school successful. My womb does not preclude me from doing anything my male colleagues can do when it comes to running an Academy and making it a success.”

  Poker Faces…

  The interview continued, they asked me the standard questions like, “why should we hire you? What are your strengths? What are your weaknesses?” I think I aced every question. I answered honestly without a lot of ummms between my thoughts.

  After the interview was over, they both shook my hand.

  “We will review our notes. If you make it to the last stage someone will be in touch with you,” Bishop Bluette stated.

  I left the office feeling confident about my answers, but as I drove to my favorite coffee spot, the doubt started to seep in.

  Did I answer that question correctly?

  Was I too sassy? Mommy always warned me about being sassy.

  Is that the answer they were looking for?

  Did I pronounce accreditation wrong?

  I walked to the counter of the coffee shop still in my thoughts and ordered my usual Americano. I went and sat in my usual booth by the window. The Barista came over and sat down across from me.

  “So…how did it go?”

  “It went okay. When I first walked out of the office I thought it went great but the more I think about it, I’m not sure.”

  “What did the interviewer say?”

  “Interviewers,” I corrected. “They didn’t say anything. They both wore poker faces the entire time. Neither one smiled or made me feel like my answers were good. I don’t know,” I shrugged and took a sip of my coffee.

  “I think you did well. Don’t doubt yourself.”

  “I’m trying not to Deborah, but it’s hard.”

  “I hear you, I remember when I applied for this job, I mean it doesn’t compare to being the director of a school but…”

  “No, don’t do that,” I interrupted, “Every step of our journey is important. Don’t discount yourself. Where you are right now, is important. We all have beginnings. Go ahead, tell me.”

 

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