Beautiful Otherness

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Beautiful Otherness Page 19

by Shirley Simmons


  Things seemed to be falling apart rapidly. First Murphy was not returning and now the car. I hadn’t received any money yet, so once the car was repaired, I went to negotiate getting it back from the mechanic, but he was not having any of it. Even after I offered my title and extra money if he allowed me to pay him later, once I got the advance, he refused. I called a cab and waited at a bar and grill across from the auto repair shop. I was disappointed and looking very dejected.

  It was taking everything I had not to burst into tears sitting at the bar. What was I going to do?” Time was rapidly running out; I only had a couple of days left before I needed to be back in school. I thought of calling Jonathan but ultimately decided not to. To be honest, I did not want him to think I couldn’t solve my problems on my own, even though I know his father was a safety net for him when he found himself in a situation.

  It must have been written all over my face because I didn’t even notice the older gentleman sitting next to me until he spoke to me. “You look like you could use a drink.”

  I apologized for not speaking when I first sat beside him.

  “Whatever it is, it cannot be that bad!”

  I told him about the wonderful summer I was having, and how everything was now falling apart. I told him about Murphy, the car and missing the semester and how I wished I had my parents to help me resolve the problems. The conversation was small talk to kill time while I waited for the cab. At one point I did not think he was paying attention to what I was saying. I am sure having a stranger share all her problems with him wasn’t what he had hoped for.

  My cab arrived; I paid the tab and collected my purse. I thanked him for being a kind ear to my issues and turned to leave.

  “Kennedy come by my office tomorrow. I think I can help.”

  I took his card and said goodbye, thanking him again. The entire time I sat waiting for the cab, I was so focused on what I had going on, I’m ashamed to say I didn’t remember his name or very much about the gentleman, to say the least. But the following day Lynn and I arrived in a cab at the address on the business card.

  We stood in the parking lot in disbelief, surprise and delight. After double-checking the address to make sure we were at the right location, we approached the receptionist. Before we headed to the elevator, I leaned into the receptionist and asked who the gentleman on the card was. I will never forget the look on her face when she told me he was the owner of the record label whose offices were in this building. The entire building. When we got to his office, his secretary told us that he was not in, but he had left a package for me.

  Once we returned to the car with the package, I opened the envelope; inside was a note that read: “Kennedy, the Lord spoke to me yesterday when we met. There is something spectacular about you. He moved me to look after you. I have contacted the auto shop on your behalf and taken care of the repairs. Your car is ready for you to pick it up. Good luck with school.”

  Wow! I was amazed that something like this could even happen. Did people really do that? It was then that I remembered how I’d cried and talked about wanting to help others when we were gathered around Thanksgiving dinner. This is the kind of thing I knew was right. I was on the receiving end of great and unselfish generosity, and one day I would be on the giving end.

  I immediately picked up my car and returned to his office the following day with a copy of the invoice and receipt along with a thank you card and balloons. I knew it was cheesy, especially for someone in his position, but I couldn’t think of any other way to say thank you. I asked if I could see the gentleman and handed the receptionist the card, receipt, and balloons. She informed me that he was not in.

  “What is your name?”

  “Kennedy, ma’am.”

  “I don’t know how or where you met him, but he is only in this office twice a year, and it’s usually only for an hour or two. He is a very private gentleman and rarely says much.”

  “Will these get to him,” I asked.

  She nodded and smiled. I thanked her and entered the elevator, once again in disbelief. What were the odds that he and I would be in the same bar and grill at the same time, and just at the exact moment I needed the helping hand of an angel?

  I returned to Little Rock to finish the semester without Murphy, but everything was different now. She was still paying her part of the rent and did visit from time to time, but for me, Little Rock was not the same.

  GRUMPY CATERPILLAR

  Of all the memories and moments with my mother, my favorite was the nighttime snack routine we shared. It began when I was in elementary school sometime after my father Earl died, and it continued until I left for college. Every night around nine o’clock, I would snuggle up in her bed and she would bring us a snack. Most evenings it was orange slices or apple wedges, but sometimes she would have ice cream or sherbet. This was our bonding time. We would lie on the bed together and eat our snack watching television, and other times we would simply talk while we ate or read the Bible. However, it did not matter to me what we did, it was our time.

  I had a perfectly decorated room of my own that any kid would want, but every night I would fall asleep next to my mother after our snack in her bed. It must have been what we both needed because she never kicked me out of bed or placed me in my bed once I fell asleep.

  Regardless of what was happening in my life, it was the only time I truly felt at peace.

  I wish I could lay in the bed and share orange slices with my mother again.

  ____

  As the hair and makeup team completed their work and began packing up their equipment, I pulled Kylie over to the couch on the opposite side of the bedroom to get out of their way. Greyson helped take their things to the car to expedite the process.

  I gently touched Kylie’s newly straightened hair and gazed at her. I longed for my mother to gaze at me the way she used to.

  “Sweetie, you know how I love to have nighttime snacks with you?”

  “Yeah, Mom! I love it, too. I still don’t think Dad knows we do it,” she peeked toward the door making sure her father hadn’t overheard us.

  “He has no idea,” I snickered. “I never told you this, but my mom and I used to have nighttime snacks together. Besides shopping, it was one of our favorite things to do together.”

  *

  I had returned to Philander Smith for my senior year completely unmotivated and still not knowing the direction my life would take. School and the house had become boring without my best friend, Murphy, being there. I had gone to visit her in San Francisco, and we had a wonderful time revisiting our tour with the band and reminiscing about the crazy things we’d done together. Naturally, we were both sorry when it came time for me to leave, but it was time for me to get focused. All my talk about wanting to help others would amount to nothing if I couldn’t even make it through college. And on top of that, I felt as though I was currently a disappointment to my mother, Mary, and my dad, Earl. I knew that if they were alive, they would find a way to make me feel that all my recent actions—my careless and carefree attitude toward school—were okay, but I knew deep down that things had to change.

  Chase and I had begun dating again. It started with a few small dates when I returned from San Francisco, but things were beginning to get serious again.

  I continued living with my roommates at the house, but I spent a lot more of my time with Chase and Dr. Morgan. I noticed a substantial change in Chase.; He was not as controlling. He had returned to being the Chase I loved when we first met. Perhaps it was because Murphy was not around.

  A couple of months had passed, and our dating was the comfortable change that I needed. It gave me the time to relax and reflect on the hectic party life I had been leading.

  Sunday dinner was a ritual at Dr. Morgan’s home. It was a tradition long before I came to Little Rock, so when I arrived one Sunday to meet there for dinner, I didn’t give it any thought when I saw the driveway full of cars. But I was in for a complete surprise!


  Chase looked anxious during dinner; he moved nervously through the room unfocused on any of his conversations. Every time I would ask him if things were okay, he would just smile and quickly redirect the topic and walk away, but it was quite obvious there was something on his mind.

  Dr. Morgan asked everyone to gather in the formal living room for an announcement. I remember staring at the paneled walls preparing to hear the worst as Chase took his mother’s side.

  Perhaps she was ill; was I losing a mother once again? Chase began to speak, and my knees trembled as I prepared for what I thought was sure to be life-changing news. When Chase called me forward to stand with them, my heart fluttered with fear. Was Dr. Morgan dying? Did she have cancer like my mother? Those were the only thoughts going through my head as I walked toward him.

  The room began to fill with whispers and people speaking under their breath. I stepped close to Chase and took his hand, hoping to give him courage through what I thought was going to be some devastating news. But I was shocked when he dropped to one knee and reached into his blazer pocket to draw out a black velvet ring box. Everything—every thought, every move, every argument–that came before that moment was forgotten.

  “Kennedy, will you marry me?”

  At that moment, there was no one in the room but Chase and me.

  “Yes!” I didn’t miss a beat.

  His proposal was as much a surprise to me as it was to everyone else. I loved Chase, yet neither one of us was in any hurry to set a wedding date. We both liked the idea of saying we are engaged more than the idea of actually being husband and wife. Once again, I was faced with a life-affecting decision, to be made without the benefit of my mother’s advice and wisdom, but I did take solace in knowing my mother had known Chase.

  The more I tried to force myself to continue, the more I started to feel like it was time to move on from college. It was the same feeling I had when I attended Bethune Cookman before my mother passed. So, I quietly finished the semester, knowing that it was time for me to go back home to Florida. Something deep down inside was forcing me to go back, and I knew I had to follow that inner voice that had never failed me before.

  At the end of the semester, Chase and I packed up the house. My other roommates left to go home, and I planned my return trip home. I had no problem convincing Chase to move to Florida. Our plan was for me to move there, then get one of the rental homes ready for Chase and me to live in once he graduated.

  I was nervous and confused about my future. The uncertainty of it made my stomach quiver. Yet despite my uneasy nerves, I felt thrilled and excited about it. I decided to trust the process, so any nagging doubts I might have had about our decision didn’t matter at this point. My mother had always told me that there was an anointing on my life, and she had not been the only one to utter those words to me. Those were the words of encouragement I needed to remember to move forward with my decision to marry Chase and move back to Florida.

  I remember one time while still in Arkansas there was a blizzard headed for Little Rock, but I did not give it much thought because I was coming up from the southeast, from Florida. I grew up with countless hurricanes hitting Florida. I had seen the destruction they could create. I also recall how we would prepare by boarding up windows, tying down anything outside that could be blown away, and stocking up on things like water and batteries. Then nothing would happen. The hurricane would pass. So maybe this was the reason I did not give much thought to the warning signals that were sitting at the back of my thoughts, of an approaching storm, a big red flag that was trying to get my attention, and that I ignored.

  I was working a part-time job at the mall when the announcement was made that the mall was closing, and everyone needed to leave at once. This wasn’t my first time seeing snow nor was it my first time commuting in it, however, it was my first time driving in snow. All the prior winters, Chase had done all the driving.

  I had no idea at the time how difficult it was to drive in a snowstorm. My car was skittering over the road and the snow was somewhat blinding, obscuring the light traffic around me. Just when I thought, “Okay Kennedy, you got this,” the vehicle began to slide uncontrollably. I regained just enough control to pull into the parking lot of a grocery store and immediately broke down.

  My nerves and emotions were a wreck. I began to cry uncontrollably, like a teething baby. It must have been loud crying because I did not even notice the gentleman approach my car.

  “Is everything okay young lady?”

  I rolled the window halfway. “No, it’s not.”

  Between crying like a kid and trying to talk, I told him I was from Florida, it was my first storm, and I didn’t know how to drive in it or what to do. He offered to take me home, but he needed to get supplies for the elderly members of the church first. He gathered his supplies and showed me what I would need to get through the storm if I became snowed in. Once he dropped me off at home, he suggested I visit the church he attended.

  A few weeks later, I found a seat in the balcony of the packed church. The pastor began preaching and shortly into his sermon, things started to happen. It was what the elders called “the spirit.” I remember them saying “the spirit is moving in here.” I watched as each member would catch the Holy Ghost and fall to the floor or shout and dance down the aisles.

  Once order was restored to the congregation, the pastor stopped and stared at the balcony. He stood there staring for a few minutes before speaking.

  ‘‘Young lady, you will be happy; the Lord told me you will be happy.’’

  Sitting there, I was not sure who he was speaking too as he continued to stare into the balcony.

  ‘‘The young lady in white.”

  The entire congregation turned with curiosity to have a look into the balcony. I turned and looked around before realizing that I was the only one in white. An uneasy feeling came over me. I prayed that the pastor was speaking to anyone but me. I did not want the attention. My heart began to race once I knew that he was indeed talking to me.

  ‘‘You were anointed in your mother’s womb young lady. There is an amazing favor placed over you. You do not have to concern yourself with what troubles you, it is not a part of you.’’

  The pastor was speaking the exact things my mother used to say to me during those evenings eating orange slices.

  *

  On my drive to Florida, I decided to travel to Mississippi again to visit my biological sister and brothers. I desperately wanted to see them before going back to Florida because I did not know when I would see them again after that. It had been a couple of years since my last visit. Deep inside of me I felt bad about how different our lives had turned out. It was a sad situation, more like an out of sight out of mind type of thing.

  We would try to keep in touch here and there, but it became harder for me after my mother, Mary, died. My biological mother’s actions had changed the course of my life. After her death, my siblings lived a much harder life than the one I had in Florida. It wasn’t necessarily a bad life for them, but I always felt as though I didn’t deserve what I had, what I was given. I felt they deserved to share in what Mary had given me, but my thinking was illogical, flawed. She was not there mother.

  When I arrived in Mississippi, they made me feel like a rock star the whole time I was there. They wanted to show me off to all their friends like we were little kids. So, you see, that illogical thinking was only in my mind, not theirs.

  “Meet my little sister, isn’t she beautiful?” Even during dinner, they told the waiter I was their sister. After dinner, we went to a small juke joint and I bought rounds of drinks all night to celebrate my engagement. They were not used to this nor was the small club. They felt like high rollers, and I enjoyed making them feel that way. I felt guilty for the life that they had, and over time it had become much easier to say I was an only child. No one asked questions when I said that, but if I said I had siblings, it always led to questions I did not want to answer.

  The
next morning, I hit the road in route to Florida. I had made plans to live with a relative for a few months with the hope of finding employment, getting the tenants moved out and getting the house ready for Chase and me to live in. My cousin, the one I was staying with, was one of my mom’s favorite nieces. I remember, when we were kids, how my mom helped her to become stable in her adulthood, so I felt like she would be the perfect person to ask for a favor.

  During the drive I reflected over the events of the last few years. I had mostly traveled and partied the entire time and, yeah, there was that getting engaged thing. Just as I started to feel bad about it all, I thought of all the wonderful people I had met, all the angels that had been placed in my life to see me through it all. Then I realized that I was only a semester away from having a degree. No one from my childhood believed I would even go to college let alone be a semester away from a degree. By the time I reached my cousin’s home in Florida, I was at peace with my memories.

  *

  I leaned back stretching my arms out, running my fingers over my cousin’s worn-out leather sofa. With every scratch, dent or lump I imagined what all the couch had witnessed. How many times someone jumped on it, crashed into it, how many times it had been moved and repositioned; yet here it still stood serving its purpose.

  I really didn’t know what to expect starting over in Orlando, but I was now determined to give it everything that I had, much like the weathered couch.

  I thanked God for allowing me to make it to my cousin’s home safely. I thanked him for watching over my life and for the new beginning.

  I had properties and a couple of businesses; it was how I financially sustained myself in college. All the properties had been rented out, and I had a property manager overseeing them. One of my mother’s good friends was managing the businesses. She had put strong people in place to manage the day-to-day operations. My mom also had a great legal team. The same people who once hired her to look after their parent’s needs were now part of her legal counsel, and they worked to ensure everything was being handled properly after my mother’s death. I told you my mother had courage.

 

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