Awaken

by Denese Shelton

  Her hand was still over her heart, as if that could control the feeling of her heart coming out of her chest. She willed her breathing to slow, and as she did, she realized that she was actually extremely tired. She couldn’t believe it; she had literally slept all day, after all. But she felt exhausted.

  The heart palpations were starting to slow, so she was able to make it to her feet and across the living room to her bedroom. Her four-poster sleigh bed looked like an oasis in the desert. She dropped down on the bed and curled into the fetal position. Her whole body was shaking like a leaf from her nerves.

  After about ten minutes of staring at the walls that were meant to bring her tranquility, Sierra’s shaking stopped, her breathing became regulated, and her eyes grew heavy. After about only a two-and-a-half-hour break, sleep had taken her again.

  Chapter 6

  Sierra opened her eyes and found that she was staring at the floor. The floor was grimy and sticky and smelled of urine. She could feel sweat coming from every pore of her body. She looked around her and had to shut her eyes pretty quickly because she felt so woozy.

  She struggled to open her eyes again, and this time she succeeded. Her pupils dilated as the only source of light in the room, the moonlight, came in through the bars of the window above her head. She looked directly ahead, and her gaze was met with the parallel bars of a jail cell.

  She adjusted her body so that her back was all the way up against the wall and scanned her surroundings. At least ten or eleven other women were in the cell with her. Their collective body heat and the heat of the night air coming in through the window combined to make the cell unbearably humid. Most of the women she recognized from the bus, but one or two she didn’t remember seeing before. Her head still felt heavy, but the explosion of pain that she’d felt on first opening her eyes had already dulled to a low throbbing.

  Sierra knew she was back in her dreams. This time, though, she didn’t panic. She knew that at any moment she could wake up, and she wanted to try and find some understanding as to why she was having this dream before that happened. In doing so, she hoped to obtain closure and put an end to the dreams, period.

  The first order of business was to find her friend. She lost Mary in the commotion outside of the bus. Was she here in the cell? Sierra looked all around, but none of the faces belonged to her friend.

  “Do you know where we are?” she asked a young woman to her right who seemed particularly frightened.

  “All I know is that they brought us to this place in a paddy wagon after the mob got tired of beating on us,” the girl replied.

  “What charge are they holding us on?”

  The girl had no clue, but the woman on the other side of her said, “We’re being held for instigating a riot, resisting arrest, and being Negroes.”

  Sierra looked around for her friend again, this time calling into the darkness of the overcrowded cell, “Mary, Mary, are you here?”

  “Dorothy?” a weak voice called from the farthest end of the cell from where Sierra was sitting. “I’m here.”

  Moving carefully to avoid stepping on the sleeping bodies strewn across the floor, Sierra hurried to the other end of the jail cell to check on her friend. As she picked her way through the crowd, she observed women with bloody gashes on the sides of their heads, and others whose dresses were ripped so badly that their underwear was visible.

  When she finally reached Mary, she put a hand under her friend’s chin and lifted her face so that she could see her more clearly. Her face was wet with perspiration and tears, and her right eye was puffy and closed. The circumference of the eye was black and blue. The other eye looked at her friend with sadness and pain.

  Sierra hugged Mary as tightly as she could with her bruised ribs and asked her, “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be all right,” Mary said. “How about you?”

  Until that very moment it hadn’t even occurred to Sierra to check herself for injuries again. When she was in her own living room, she had checked herself and found no real damage. Now, however, she put a hand to her head and realized that she had a bloody wound near her hairline the size of a small child’s hand. She also noticed discomfort and throbbing under her left eye. Her hand drifted down her face under her eye and felt a small, fresh wound that had made its home under her left eye, in the same place where her old scar presided. And then that thumping came back inside of her head as well, calling into memory the many aggressive blows that she had taken.

  “I’ll be fine too,” she finally replied, although she wasn’t all the way convinced that she didn’t have a slight concussion. She met Mary’s eyes again. “Where are we and how did we get in here?”

  Mary replied, “We are in the county jail. I saw the sign when they brought us in. That’s all I really remember. Every-thing else is just a blur.”

  “What do you think they’ll do with us?”

  “I don’t know.”

  A guard came by the cell and rapped his stick against the confining bars. “All right,” he said. “Looks like you all will be here for a while, so I would suggest you get comfortable.”

  Someone near the front of the cell spoke up. “Sir, some people in here are hurt. Their wounds need tending.”

  “I don’t see no people, only animals,” the jailer said.

  “Well, sir, even animals get to see a doctor when they’re hurt,” the brave woman answered.

  “You think you hurt now, you just keep on talking and making trouble and see don’t I show you what hurt is,” the jailer yelled, his words full of malice.

  The woman speaking looked down at the wound on her shoulder and kept her silence.

  Probably saving her energy, Sierra thought. Lord knows she’ll need it.

  A younger woman with a bloodstain on her flowered dress piped up. “When can we have a phone call?” she demanded. “That’s our right.”

  “You ugly little nigger,” the jailer said, leaning forward. “You ain’t got no rights. The sooner you understand that, the better off you’ll be.”

  Without waiting for a response, he abruptly walked off, leaving the women in the dark. As they lay on the floor, broken and bruised, stomachs growling, an easy silence settled in. And then whispers began to pervade the air. Women who were lying down rose to their knees to pray. Hands folded, heads bowed, they chanted, “Jesus,” over and over again.

  Soon, Sierra and Mary were on their hands and knees as well, thanking the Lord for their lives and asking that He continue to give them strength and courage. Cries of joy and sorrow began to fill the air as a sweet spirit moved around the jail cell. One by one, the women began to shout in the way of the old church while a feeling of uncontrollable joy took them over.

  Sierra found that she wasn’t immune to the spirit; in fact, as the praying continued, she began to feel whole. She felt a tingling sensation in her fingers and toes as her hands went up in the air, and as tears flowed down her now warm cheeks.

  “Jesus, thank you Jesus.” Over and over again, she kept repeating these words. And then she began to exclaim, “I love you, I love you, I love you!” until her whole body felt as if it were floating through the air.

  This went on and on for what felt like hours. At some point, the prayer was broken by a woman starting to sing, “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms.”

  Leaning,

  Leaning,

  Safe and secure from all alarm . . .

  Soon, all the other woman joined in.

  Leaning,

  Leaning,

  Leaning on the Everlasting Arms . . .

  Their outcry seemed to come from the depths of anguished souls, and when the song ended, all that could be heard in the air was heavy sobs.

  “Father God,” the women said. “Thank you, Jesus.”

  Sierra felt her body begin to sway to and fro, and her eyelids felt familiarly heavy. She was once again exhausted, but this time she was filled with a peace that she hadn’t experienced before. She let her eyes drop closed, and s
he gave in to the darkness around her.

  Chapter 7

  When Sierra again opened her eyes, she was lying in her bed. Her body was worn out and she had a severe headache. She rose slowly, lest she upset her head again. She ran her hands through her hair, stretched, and yawned. Once she had oriented herself, she slowly made her way to the bathroom and splashed water on her face. She opened the medicine cabinet and reached for the bottle of ibuprofen. After popping the pills in her mouth, she cupped her hands and washed the medicine down with tap water.

  She wondered how long she’d been gone this time. As she walked into the living room, she saw the blinking light on her phone indicating she had a voicemail. She played the first message: “It’s Mom. I was just calling to see how you were doing. Love you. Give me a call when you get this message. Bye.”

  The next message was from her sister: “Hey, why aren’t you answering either one of your phones? Call me.”

  The last message was from Stefani: “Hi, Sierra, I need to know that everything is okay. You had two showings you were supposed to do today, and I got complaints from the clients that you never showed. I’m wondering what’s up. Give me a call. At least let me know that you’re okay, and tell me what I should say to the clients.”

  Sierra began to panic. She couldn’t believe she had blown off two showings. She was always on her game; she never missed a beat. This is bad. This is really bad. When she looked at the date on her cell phone, she realized that it was Tuesday. The showings Stefani was talking about had been scheduled for Monday. She had slept for over two days. How was that even possible?

  She quickly found the information for the two clients and called them. One had already moved on to another real estate agent, but Sierra got the other one to agree to a showing that day after explaining she’d had a serious family problem.

  As soon as she hung up the phone, Sierra got in the shower. Twenty minutes later, she was dressed in a black, boot-cut cotton pantsuit and white camisole and heading out the door.

  She knew she was avoiding the fact that she had a very real problem on her hands with the dreams. She needed to figure out what to do about it. But first I have to show this house, she told herself. I have to eat, right?

  Even as this thought came to her, a corresponding growl rumbled in her stomach, reminding her that sleeping for two days also meant not eating for two days. She promised herself she would pick up something before the showing.

  The house she hoped to sell was a beautiful red brick residence in Brown Deer, another suburb of Milwaukee. The potential buyer, Steve Thomas, was a teacher with the Brown Deer public school system. He was thirty-three years old and a Milwaukee native. This would be his first time buying a home.

  When Sierra met him on the sidewalk outside of the house, she looked up to speak to him and noticed how tall and handsome he was. But what really struck her were his gentle brown eyes. She wondered why she hadn’t noticed them before.

  Before she could go too far off on that tangent, she gave herself a mental slap.

  As they entered the home, Steve shared, “I’m still not sure what I’m looking for in a house. But I think I’ll know it when I see it.”

  Sierra wondered how, if he was a teacher, he was able to get off and meet her to see this house by two o’clock on a weekday. But she also knew it was none of her business. He was here and that was all she should really care about.

  “Even buyers who think they know exactly what they want say the same thing in the end. Something about the house spoke to them. They knew it was the one when they saw it. I have no doubt you’ll know too.”

  Sierra gave him a brief history and tour of the residence and then allowed Steve to explore on his own, as was his wish. She took the opportunity to have a little break herself. As Steve investigated the living room area, she headed toward the kitchen.

  The kitchen was equipped with shiny new stainless steel appliances and a new coat of white paint, leaving the next owners to make up their own minds about what color they wanted to add to the walls. Sierra took a quick look around at the hardwood floor and granite countertops, assuring herself that nothing was out of place. Then she made her way to the sliding glass door at the back of the kitchen and gazed out at the spacious backyard.

  A crabapple tree stood right in the middle of the yard’s grassy, open space. This was definitely a family home. Plenty of opportunity remained for all kinds of landscaping or maybe even a swing set or pool. The possibilities were endless.

  Sierra continued to stare, picturing children playing, laughing, and loving life in the inviting backyard. The thought brought a wistful smile to her face; she wondered about having children of her own. A yawn caught her by surprise, wiping away the smile, and she marveled at the fact that she had the audacity to be tired after having slept for the last two days. She knew that she would have to see a doctor in the near future; her sleeping issues were getting way out of control, and it was making her more irritable than normal.

  A hand landed on her shoulder and she almost jumped out of her skin. “Oh!” she whispered, startled.

  “Whoa, hey, relax,” Steve said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Sierra at first frowned in agitation and then remembered herself and relaxed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Thomas. You didn’t scare me. I was just a little startled.”

  “Oh, well, whatever it was, I’m sorry—and please, call me Steve.”

  Sierra smiled and nodded her head slightly in acquiescence. “Okay, Steve. What do you think of the house?”

  “I think I like it.”

  Sierra smiled. “Great. That’s good news!” If she could wrap up this sale soon, she would be very happy.

  “Yeah, I like it. And it’s definitely one of the best ones that I’ve seen—but I’m still not sure,” Steve said.

  Her hopes dampened, Sierra sighed inwardly and put on her most confident smile. “Well, you don’t want to wait too long, because a lot of people are interested in this property, and I would really hate for you to miss out on this great opportunity.”

  Steve smiled a knowing smile. He looked at Sierra as if he understood everything about her. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind while I’m thinking about it,” he said.

  Sierra didn’t want to push too hard. “I have other properties that may suit your needs if you want to continue the search . . .”

  “No,” Steve said. “I want to think about this property before moving on to another one.” He looked out at the backyard. “There’s something special about this place.”

  After going over the square footage of the house and some of the extra features, including a finished basement and fireplace, Sierra knew it was time to wrap things up. “Well, have you seen enough for today?” she asked.

  “Yes, I think I have,” Steve said with a smile.

  Sierra ushered him out of the house, pausing only to lock up behind her. “Well, thank you for coming to meet me on such short notice,” she said, “and if you make up your mind or have any other questions, concerns, or requests, you have my number.”

  Steve shook her hand. “Yes, I have your number—and if I have any questions, I’ll be sure to call you.”

  He didn’t let go of Sierra’s hand right away, and she could feel a sensation almost like an electric current go through their united hands, connecting them. She looked into his eyes and could see that he felt it too. As politely as she could, she dropped his hand, and without another word, she walked to her car.

  Steve stood in the same spot outside of his own car for a full minute, still staring at the spot Sierra had just occupied even after she drove away. He felt as if he were frozen in place. His brain refused to let him do anything else for the moment.

  When his mind decided to come back, he realized that he was able to open up his car door and get in—but he was still totally confused as to what had just happened. He was attracted to his agent, for sure. She was an extremely beautiful woman, so that wasn’t unusual. What he did find perplexing
, however, was how nervous and on edge she seemed. When he first met her, she had been very efficient and matter of fact, extremely confident in her abilities. Yet lately, she hadn’t even called to check up on him. He’d purposely taken a half day yesterday to meet her at this location to see this house. When she hadn’t shown up, he’d been more worried than angry—also perplexing—and then when she’d called to schedule this appointment, he’d agreed and taken off from school early, claiming an emergency, which he never did.

  It confused him that he was still unsure of the reasoning behind his actions. Sure, he wanted to buy a house, but his possibilities for real estate agents were almost endless. And yet he didn’t want anyone but Sierra. She had been agitated today, and he’d seen a tiredness in her eyes. For some reason, all of that tiredness and agitation was drawing him in like a moth to a flame. When he’d touched her shoulder in the kitchen, he’d had to stop himself from massaging her shoulders and trying to relieve some of the tension he felt there. It was a good thing he hadn’t tried; she’d moved away from him so fast, she obviously wouldn’t have welcomed his touch.

  And then, just now as he shook her hand, he had felt an attraction between them—he’d felt it from his fingers to his toes. He’d looked at her stiff stance as she got in her car and realized that he would have to go slow. She didn’t look ready to accept anything from anybody, least of all him. Would she even admit to herself that they had an attraction? Probably not, he thought as he started his car. He didn’t know whether she was dating anyone. He hadn’t noticed a ring, though, so he remained encouraged.

  Sierra drove off as quickly as she could. She didn’t quite know what just happened. She’d definitely felt some kind of attraction to Steve when their hands touched—but there was absolutely no way she could handle something like that right now. She just had too much going on. Besides, Steve was a client, and fraternizing was a personal “no-no” for her.