“Let me give you a quick tour. Mirna will be here in a little while to help with anything else you might need.”
He led me through the kitchen toward the front of the house, pointing out the living room, dining room, and an extra bathroom. It was the briefest home tour I’d ever gotten.
He probably doesn’t want you to know where the fine china or silverware is out of fear you’ll rob them and run off in the middle of the night.
Tall, faceless African sculptures framed both sides of a door near the main stairwell. They were creepy black wood carvings that stood taller than me with elongated necks and long oval-shaped heads. One held a shield and spear; the other was apparently supposed to be a woman from the large cones protruding from the upper torso.
“Bought those when we opened a mission and school in Kenya. That’s the Guardian and she’s the Maiden.”
His chest puffed out with pride as he spoke about his ugly statues and I was lost somewhere inside my head. There had to be some kind of way to piece my life back together. It wouldn’t happen overnight but with determination and faith, I could turn my mess into a mosaic masterpiece. Bishop was staring at me expectantly; he must have asked me something but I hadn’t heard a thing he’d said. Embarrassed to admit I wasn’t paying attention I stared at him wide-eyed.
“Everything you need is down there; the basement is large enough for you to live comfortably. I’ll let you explore, and send Mirna down when she gets in.”
“Oh. Okay, thank you, Bishop. I appreciate everything you’re doing.”
He pulled me into a hug, patting me roughly on my back. “You live here now. Just call me Kev or Kevin. All that Bishop and Mr. nonsense won’t fly in this house; makes me feel like I’m not at home.”
“Okay Kevi . . . Kev.” It felt awkward calling him by his first name but I’d try. “Is there a phone down there?” I asked as he let me go.
Bishop looked at me expectantly as if he were waiting for me to divulge why I wanted to use the phone, and I clammed up. I really needed to call my parents but trying to vocalize the who or why part of my need for a phone wasn’t happening. This wasn’t prison, he didn’t need to have a say in who I talked to unless I tried to make a long-distance call.
“We are getting a line installed for you. It should be around Monday or Tuesday next week.” He hesitated and began rubbing the corners of his mouth where his goatee used to be out of habit. “We think you should just lay low for a little while until we get a few things resolved. You don’t understand the impact your conviction had on the community and the other members of the congregation. Then to tell everyone you were no longer with us and see devastation on everyone’s faces all over again. Eva—”
“No, no. It’s fine. Let’s worry about what people will say. That’s always been the way of the church right?” I snapped sarcastically.
I’d meant to keep the comment to myself but it came out and it was definitely too late to take it back. Bishop simply nodded his head as he opened the basement door. He was probably agreeing to his own silent argument about being crazy for taking me in. I walked past him and heard the door close quietly behind me.
What these people referred to as a basement would have passed for a loft or studio-style apartment. The room opened up to a large dark brown sectional that faced a wall with a flat-screen television. There was the faintest scent of apples and cinnamon and it actually made the space feel inviting. My steps were cushioned by the plush brown and tan speckled shag carpet as I walked past a wall lined with book shelves and curio cabinets. I quietly studied the painted faces of three naked mermaids lounging on a clock shaped like a coral reef. Their fins were varying shades of shiny blues and greens that stopped at their bared waists. All of the mermaids were posed in various positions but it was the one to the right that tugged at my core, making a knot form in my throat.
One mermaid had fiery red hair flaming around her serene seductive face; the other had bright hair the color of a wheat field and sapphire blue eyes. But, the one with the crown of hair blacker than coal billowing around her kept grabbing my attention. Her languid brown eyes were staring back at me as if she could see directly into my soul. She reminded me of Aeron, while simultaneously reminding me of Antonia.
“I’m sorry to put you down here with all of Kevin’s unsightly trinkets,” Mrs. Tisdale spoke from where she’d been standing on the stairwell, holding a small tray.
I whirled around, quickly wiping away a stray tear. She walked over, giving me a sincere smile.
“Your husband’s trinkets are interesting to say the least. Not exactly what I’d ever imagine to find in a leader of the church’s home,” I replied, giggling at the eccentric artifact collection.
“We weren’t always sanctified, baby.” She chuckled. “Girl, we had lives and lived just like anybody else. That’s why all that fool’s foolishness is down here where we can still admire its beauty and value without being judged.” Mrs. Tisdale’s tone was soft and playful like we were old friends.
The woman barely spoke to me when I worked in the church, and it gave me the impression that she was just like the rest of the elders and their wives. I’d imagined she’d be stuffy and stuck-up, nothing like the sweet, charming person I was talking to. We were about the same build even though she had to be in her mid-forties; the woman definitely kept herself up. There wasn’t a single wrinkle or crease in her light brown skin and her hazel eyes sparkled.
She set the tray on a small table in front of the couch. “I made you some soup and sandwiches. Figured your stomach might need to adjust to normal food so I kept it light. Forgive Kev, he’s such a man. He wasn’t thinking about anything but getting into his study to pour over his next sermon.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Um, I don’t know which one I want more: the food or a hot shower.”
“Baby, eat the sandwich in the shower; it ain’t gonna hurt the shower I know that for a fact. And call me Mirna.” She laughed and walked toward another section of the basement.
I followed, feeling a little better in her warm presence. The bathroom was past the bedroom and was about the size of a small hotel room. It was decorated in green, white, and black, reminiscent of a comfy day spa. One complete wall was decorated with a large mural that looked like magnified raindrops dripping off of two bright green leaves. Fluffy white rugs were in various places on the floor that matched the equally fluffy-looking towels on a bamboo shelf in a corner. I balked at the steam and sauna options on the glass door to the shower.
“I wasn’t sure what size you’d wear so we have a little of everything. There’s a bathrobe on the top towel shelf, razors, soap, everything you need is in this cabinet.” Mirna glided over to a small cabinet that looked like a fully stocked convenience store. There were so many types of body washes and lotions I got excited just thinking about which one I wanted to try first.
“Clothes are in the bedroom; we passed that on the way in. You need anything let me know. I’ll check on you a little later.”
She left and I stood momentarily confused as to how a person could feel like a princess and a pauper at the same damn time.
After what was probably the longest shower I’d ever taken in my life I sat in front of the television, wrapped in the enormous bathrobe. I’d picked a ginger peach–scented body wash and cream that smelled good enough to eat out the bottle. The sandwiches were gone in the blink of an eye. I ate the things so fast it’s a wonder I didn’t choke. Even though the soup was cold I still crushed it. There’s nothing like homemade chicken soup and I all but licked the bowl. Mirna was definitely right about my stomach acting finicky. Not long after eating my stomach turned into a huge painful cramp.
I wasn’t used to Miracle Whip and real cheese. I took a second shower, finally understanding why the food in prison was so bland and uncomplicated. They didn’t have doors on those cells. The last thing they needed was a cellblock full of shitty folk blowing up stalls with only one toilet to share. I had to wash my hind parts
after that foolishness.
A smile spread across my face at the small cup of peppermint tea Mirna had thoughtfully placed on the tray. I had no desire to get up and go to the kitchen to heat it up and sat lost in my thoughts sipping it cold. The flavor reminded me of a Starlight Mint without all the sugar. I didn’t mind; my taste buds welcomed something other than water or orange juice out the can. The clock on the television receiver read five-thirty but all the day’s activities were catching up with me. Lights out was usually around seven but having real food and a real shower gave me a serious case of the itis.
My sleep should have been restful but it was far from it. I was plagued with replays of Antonia’s last moments and she begged for her life repeatedly in my dream.
Dontay walked in and around our cell watching us, jeering Antonia on. He was wildly waving money around like we were nothing more than dogs to gamble on in a fight. Antonia finally slumped forward and Dontay shouted obscenities. His face morphed into Aeron and it was then her turn to chastise and curse me for what I’d done. She cried and yelled and I cried and apologized.
Seeing Aeron so hurt and upset made my heart fragment into hundreds of tiny pieces that fell to the floor. She picked them up one by one and one minute she was handing me back the pieces and then we were alone on the cot just as we were her last night there. She kissed me and I felt shame and excitement. I was confused at my reaction and angry at myself but I didn’t want it to end. Her hands were all over me and I timidly began running my fingers along the small of her back.
She began whispering broken sentences in my ear: “I’ve missed you so much, mami. I want you; let me make love to you.”
Lying back in the bed her body slid gracefully on top of mine. Our clothes were gone and the simple contact of her bare skin against mine made me moan in delight. She nibbled softly on my shoulders before kissing her way down to my ribcage and I squirmed in anticipation. Her hair hung over her shoulder and slid along my body like a silky web of tiny fingers. It caressed my neck and nipples, softly cascaded across my stomach, leaving every inch of my skin that it touched in a raging pool of need. Aeron giggled at my reaction and made a game out teasing me with her hair. She rose back up, gently kissing my lips before teasing me all over again.
By the time she made her way down a second time, there was a raging river of need coursing between my legs. Her breath was hot against my skin and then Antonia was hovering over me. I could smell it before I saw it coming and knew she was raising her hairy snatch up to my face. Shaking my head from side to side I tried to tell her no and she ignored me, slamming herself onto my face. Aeron called out to her in the distance and I thought, well now your sister can see what you’ve done and she can kill you. I won’t be guilty anymore.
Aeron called out to me again and I tried to answer her but Antonia was laughing loudly. Each time I tried to open my mouth to call out to Aeron’s hair would fill it until I couldn’t breathe. It muffled my screams and cries for help.
My eyes flew open and I took a deep, panicked breath. I must have been holding my breath in my sleep; my lungs and my chest were tight from not getting any air. I shook my head trying to clear the dreadful images from my waking mind. My heart literally stopped cold in my chest as the bishop’s face suddenly came into focus clear as day, scaring away all traces of sleepiness. I was completely awake and alert. The pressure I’d felt on my chest was from the weight of his body on mine. Sweat dripped from his forehead into my eyes and I tried to scream and push him off but I couldn’t move a single muscle. What kind of hellish nightmare had I awakened to?
He was moaning and moving against me but I couldn’t feel him inside me. An alarm sounded in my head as I realized that I couldn’t feel my legs, my toes, or any of my limbs.
God, help me please. What the hell did they do to me?
My voice was a panicked cry in my head but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, and couldn’t lash out. I controlled the only thing I had control of and squeezed my eyes tightly closed. It was like one of those dreams where you’re half awake and half asleep. You can see and hear everything and things come out of corners or shadows but no matter how hard you try you can’t move and you can’t scream. It used to happen all the time when I was little and my auntie would say the witch was riding my back. My momma would say a spirit was trying to get to me and either way I’d be praying and sleeping with the light on for at least a month. Every ragged breath the bishop took had me trying to retreat into the darkest recesses of my own mind. Now, I had a bishop riding my back; the humiliation and helplessness I felt were overwhelming enough to smother me all on their own. Even though I couldn’t feel it, a sudden desire to bleach and burn his touch from my skin was overwhelming me. Fury balled itself up inside my chest and sat there coiled around my heart like an explosive cobra.
You will kill this filthy, pretentious motherfucka for this shit! And they wonder why women go and cut off men’s dicks; this is why. Slaughter his ass.
The devil on my left shoulder fed on the rage building inside me and goaded me into retaliating; yet, even now, the Christian side of my mind tried to find rhyme or reason with what was happening.
Is this worth going back to prison, Eva?
Yes, it is!
You can’t feel anything. Had you not had that bad dream you probably wouldn’t have ever known this happened. Tell Mirna to watch him; he’s bound to do it again and she can catch him. Let her witness everything with her own eyes.
Compared to this shit, that dream was as harmless as a cartoon. Like anyone would believe a word you said after what happened at the firm? Like Mirna would even believe you; he probably drugs her ass too. It would end up being a favor for her too.
I’d been holding my breath for most of the inner exchange in my head. I was hoping that I’d eventually pass out. It didn’t work. Every time I got to the point where bright flashes of light sparked off behind my eyelids my brain would force my lungs to take in oxygen.
“Kevin James Tinsdale! What the hell?” Mirna’s voice sliced into my silent nightmare. It was the most welcoming sound I’d ever heard as it interrupted the sound of Bishop’s raging bull-like breathing thrashing in my ear.
“Woman. Why on earth are you yelling when you aren’t sitting but two feet away from me?” Bishop questioned her through gritted teeth.
I didn’t want to see him again, but I had to look. Peeking through my lashes as best as I could without them knowing I was drugged but awake I had a limited view. Bishop’s head was turned to my left and I did my best to glance in the direction of Mirna’s voice.
“Because the agreement was that I’d let you buy your plaything so you could act out all your ungodly anus play obsessions without destroying mine. In return I get the grand finale, and you were about to finale,” she scolded him.
“The hell? I was not about to finale; you making me lose my focus and I’m going to have to start all over again to get him rock solid for you.” The bishop sounded agitated.
Fuck no! Dontay only did that asshole thing twice and we never tried again. How dare this fool think he could just ram all up in my ass and . . .
Mirna, don’t make this shit start all over or on my life I’ll take you out as soon as I can move again.
Bishop’s face lowered and I gagged at the sounds of slurping and sucking as he did whatever he was doing to places on my body that I didn’t even want to know.
“No. There will be no starting over. It’s momma’s turn. You making Princess Pinky jealous.” Mirna’s voice was so close I already knew without peeking that she was lying beside me on the bed.
“That’s why all that fool’s foolishness is down here where we can still admire its beauty and value without being judged.” Her words from our conversation swam around my head like a gold fish trapped in a plastic bag.
How many girls or women had they done this to? It couldn’t have started with me. I used to have a youth choir at the local community center. Every few
months one of my teenage girls would vanish without a trace. It would be the same each time, a runaway with no family in the area, no one to notice their absence. Except me.
“Whose pussy is this?” The bishop’s voice drilled into my thoughts, interrupting any shocking conclusions I might have come to.
“This is Bishop’s pussy.” Mirna moaned her response and I wished for a mental shutdown valve or off button. The only good thing about him being on her was the fact that his heavy ass was up off of me. I went back to what got me through my first nights in prison and recited my psalms. The ending of every line was accented with a visualization of how I’d get the bishop and his wife back for what they’d done.
Somewhere between Psalm 91 and the image of the two of them tied up, staring at me, pleading for mercy, I fell asleep.
Chapter 37
Eva If the Eyes Are the Windows to the Soul Your Windows Look Like They’re in Need of Washing
Sun filtered through the high, narrow window in the bedroom. It blinded me, forcing the dull, slow ache in my head to increase until it was going at the rate of a jackhammer. My mouth was so parched that even when I tried to lick my lips to moisten them I got no relief. They felt cracked and dry, my tongue stuck to them and several places, stinging where the cracked skin split open. It was hazy but gradually the memories of the night before came back to me. Scared I’d try to move only to find myself permanently paralyzed, I sufficed with lying there motionless, assessing my body.
The cool sheets on the bed hung loosely around me. I could feel them pressed against my legs and arms, but nowhere else. Panic-stricken at the thought of being paralyzed I sprang into a sitting position, shocked at the grasshopper-green nightshirt and matching shorts that met my eyes when the blankets fell away. I hated green. I would have slept in my underwear before I’d have put these nasty insane asylum colors on my body. Frowning, I began searching for anything to prove that I hadn’t dreamt the sordid events between the bishop and Mirna. From what I could tell nothing looked out of place, except the clothes on my body that I definitely couldn’t remember putting on. It felt like I was waking up from a long night of drinking, and my one-night stand had decided to sneak out before I could even confirm whether I’d imagined him.
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