by Dynah Zale
“Hello.” Mecca introduced herself. “Are you here for Imani? We just started her dance classes a little over a month ago. Is there something wrong?”
“No ma’am.” Mademoiselle Sullivan spoke up first before Mademoiselle Deveraux could. “We are here to discuss Blair Kendricks.”
“Blair?” Garrett said his son’s name so loudly that Blair came running down the stairs. His footsteps came to a halt when he saw both of his dance instructors standing in his kitchen.
“Mademoiselle?” Blair was stunned to see them there. “How did you find me?” He stepped further into the kitchen.
“Blair.” Mademoiselle Deveraux reached out to kiss both sides of his cheeks. “You don’t think I wouldn’t come searching for my most prized dancer. I heard about your mother and Mademoiselle is sorry, but she wouldn’t want you to stop doing what you love.”
“I don’t understand?” Mecca spoke up.
“Blair was enrolled in our advanced dance classes down at my studio.” Mademoiselle Sullivan explained. “He is a remarkable dancer, but when his mom’s sickness progressed and got worse Blair stopped attending. I called his house; got no answer. Then we tracked him down here.”
“Oui! This boy is a remarkable dancer. I’ve never seen a male with such grace, poise and strength at such a young age.” Mademoiselle bragged on Blair’s talents. “But you also gained a lot of weight.” Mademoiselle nodded her head in a way that said she did not approve. “We will have to fix that.”
“Mademoiselle Deveraux teaches at the Alvin Ailey School of Dance. She has believed in Blair’s talent since the first time she saw him perform less than a year ago.”
“Oui! I often call to monitor his progress, but when I called and heard that he had dropped out of Mademoiselle Sullivan’s classes I hopped on the first train here to find him.” She clapped her hands to accentuate her enthusiasm
“Ladies.” Garrett was not happy. “Blair has never mentioned anything to me about ballet classes.” Garrett sounded offended that they would even insinuate his son being associated with such a thing.
“You are his father, Oui?” Mademoiselle Deveraux asked.
Garrett looked around; unsure how to answer the question. Finally he said yes.
“I have a video of Blair’s last dance recital. Would you like to see it?” Mademoiselle Deveraux was sure that if Garrett could see for himself how gifted his son was then he would be more inviting to his guests.
“Sure.” He snatched the video out her hand loaded it into the living room DVD player. A light piano melody played before Blair appeared center stage. Garrett and Mecca stared intently at the screen. The boy they watched was someone they had never met before. Blair appeared lean, thin and very muscular. The muscles in his legs and thighs bulged through his tights.
Blair leapt high in the air. The black ballet slippers on his feet gracefully landed on the ground. Then like a spinning top he did a full body turn on the point of his toe.
“Pirouette.” Mademoiselle pointed out. “He does seven in a row which is very rare for someone who hasn’t studied dance professionally.”
Blair jumped in the air and straddled his legs wide open. His steps were so controlled and balanced; twirling around with his arms raised high above his head. Blair’s recital was sad. His movements expressed pain in his heart. Everyone in the room understood the story he told through his dancing.
“That dance was for his mother.” Mecca mumbled. “How he watched her suffer? Blair, that was beautiful.” Mecca complimented him.
“Yes, he is a beautiful boy.” Mademoiselle Deveraux turned to Garrett. “Monsieur Dunn, I would like to take this time to make Blair a student under my strict tutelage. I will come here at least three times a week to ensure he is properly instructed with the finest techniques used only in France and Russia.”
Garrett glanced around the room. In such a short period of time his feelings for Blair drained from his body. He believed Blair was becoming the son he always wanted. Their time together that afternoon had brought them closer together and now it seemed as though ballet was tearing them apart. “Do you want to dance?” Garrett directed his question towards Blair.
Blair had a passion for dance. It was something he enjoyed doing and did well. He missed dancing. “Yes, I want to dance.”
“Fine.” Garrett walked away. “Ladies, you can discuss with my wife his dance schedule. I’ll have no parts of it.” Garrett walked out the room; his disappointment obvious to everyone.
Chapter 40
Blair slowly climbed the front steps of his home. Scared to go in he stood outside for a moment. His heart pounded strong and hard against his chest. Anxiety usually kicked in whenever Blair realized his father was home. He put his fingers in his mouth and bit away at his nails.
Ever since he went back to ballet class their relationship had gone from bad to worse. Garrett acted like he couldn’t stand to even be in the same room with Blair. Most days Garrett ignored Blair, but on days when he did acknowledge his presence, all Garrett did was complain. He didn’t like Blair’s hair, his room was never clean enough and according to Garrett, Blair helped Mecca too much with her house duties. Blair knew he could do nothing right in his father’s eyes.
He finally walked in and the entire family was gathered in the living room. Imani sat on Garrett’s lap beaming with joy.
“What’s going on?” Blair noticed everyone in the room looked happy, even his dad.
“Look.” Imani snatched the newspaper they were reading from Garrett’s hands and ran over to her brother, “Look, my name is in the paper.”
Blair read the headline. It was a letter from Imani to their dad, telling him how great a father he was and how good a mayor he would be.
Mecca beamed. “Imani wanted to do something special for her father. So I helped her write a letter, we sent it to the local newspaper and they published it.” Mecca reached over and rubbed Blair on his shoulders. “This is a celebration for the entire family. Imani wanted the whole city to know how great a father and husband Garrett is.”
Garrett used an incoming phone call on his cell phone as an excuse to leave the room.
Blair quickly read through Imani’s description of Garrett as a loving father who would do anything for his kids. Blair laughed inside. That wasn’t the Garrett Dunn he knew. The father he knew treated Blair like an outcast. His stepmother treated him better than his own father did.
“That was Joye Anne.” Garrett walked back into the room holding the phone. “She said Creighton Hainsworth the reporter from the county newspaper was so impressed by Imani’s initiative that he convinced his editor to immediately send her letter to print.” Garrett hugged Imani again. “I owe you a big thanks. My ratings just went up another seven points.” Garrett sang.
Clearly, Imani had made their father happy by writing that article about him. Blair wished he could make Garrett smile like he was now.
Blair tried to hand the newspaper back to Imani. “You can have that copy; daddy went and bought me dozens of copies.”
“Yes, and we’re going to send a copy to our relatives down in New Orleans and of course we’ll have a framed copy hanging in the house.”
***
Later that evening everyone assembled in the living room awaiting Imani’s debut as the lead angel in the church play.
“May I present one of God’s most precious angels?” Mecca held her hands up high and introduced Imani from the middle of their living room. Born to be a star Imani descended the stairs dressed in an all-white satin dress that stopped just above the knee. White taffeta lace carefully lined the hem and tiny beads covered the bodice. Tiny specks of glitter sparkled over her face and hands. Her finished look was offset by a golden halo placed perfectly over the top of her head.
“Darling you look beautiful.” Garrett was the first to complement her. He pulled out his camera, but before he could focus the lens, she was already posing.
“Always the model.” Mecca said.
“Thanks, but I can’t take credit for this. Blair is the one who made her dress.” She looked over at Blair and winked her eye at him. “He’s a master with a sewing machine.”
Mecca could see the joy drain from Garrett’s body. His demeanor changed. He gave Blair the cold shoulder by turning his body away from the boy, excluding him from the family circle. The disappointment in Blair’s eyes hurt Mecca. She suffered with him as if he were her own son.
An outcast, Blair stood right beside his father expecting the same praise he gave Mecca just moments ago. Instead he watched as Garrett said nothing.
Garrett scooped Imani up into his arms and gave her a big kiss on the cheek.
“Daddy, don’t mess up my make up.” Imani complained.
“Oh! I’m sorry. Come on; let’s get to church before we’re late.”
Once Garrett and Imani walked out the door Mecca walked over to Blair, “Blair, the dress is really beautiful.”
Embarrassed, he looked down at the floor. She lifted his face up to look at her. He gave her a weak smile that wasn’t very convincing. “Go out to the car, I’m going to go get the baby from the nursery and we’ll be out in a minute.” She watched him shuffle out to the car.
The only thing Blair was looking for was approval from his father. It felt like nothing he ever did was good enough for him.
On the ride over to the church Garrett kept sneaking looks at Blair through his rearview mirror. Now he was sure there was something wrong with his son. Boys didn’t sew dresses. The only male clothes designers he knew of were gay. At times Blair acted so feminine he wasn’t sure whether he had a son or a daughter. All his friends were girls, his favorite colors were all along the shade of pink and he shied away from rough and tough activities, things boys typically did.
“Garrett.” Mecca’s screams made Garrett press down hard on the brakes. The car jerked forward. He hit the brakes, missing a mother pushing a baby stroller.
“Sorry.” Garrett licked his lips and brushed his hand over his mustache realizing that was a close call.
At church, Imani’s performance as the lead angel was impeccable. The way she delivered her lines and gracefully told everyone she encountered that ‘Jesus loves you’ gave Blair hope that perhaps Jesus really did care for him. Lately, he wasn’t even sure that God was real. Mecca’s devotion to God was inspiring. He often caught her reading her bible and saying her prayers, but if God were real, then why couldn’t he make his father love him.
“God loves you.” Reverend Tomlin stood in front of his congregation speaking on behalf of God. “God loves everybody. No matter who you are or what you’ve done.” Reverend Tomlin extended his open arms for anyone to join him if they were willing to give their life to Christ. Blair wasn’t sure if God could change his situation, but he was willing to give it a try. He turned towards his dad. “Dad, can I go up there?”
Annoyed that Blair was even talking to him Garrett spat. “No. God doesn’t like sissies.” Garrett’s words hurt Blair. Never in his life had he felt any lower than he had at that moment. He bowed his head down low and sulked in his seat holding back tears, refusing to cry. Blair didn’t want his father to have another reason to hate him.
Garrett turned away from Blair and shunned him. The longer he tried to ignore Blair the angrier he became. Garrett shot up like a rocket and excused himself from the pew.
“Where are you going?” Mecca whispered. “Service isn’t over yet.”
“I can’t take this anymore.” Mecca wondered what he was talking about. “I’ll be waiting for you out in the car.” He stormed out the church.
Once he was in their SUV alone, Garrett pounded away at the steering wheel. “GOD! WHERE ARE YOU AT WHEN I NEED YOU?” he cried out, exasperated and out of breathe. “HAVE YOU NOT HEARD MY CRIES? I MEAN WHAT IS GOING ON?” He was losing his voice from screaming so loudly, but he didn’t care. “I THOUGHT YOU UNDERSTOOD WHEN I SAID I WANTED THAT BOY TO BE FIXED. I THOUGHT THAT BY MY SPENDING TIME WITH HIM HE WOULD START TO ACT LIKE A NORMAL KID AND I GET NOTHING BUT THE OPPOSITE RESULTS. HE ACTS MORE LIKE A SISSY NOW THEN HE DID BEFORE. DID I DO SOMETHING WRONG TO DESERVE THIS? NO BOY SEWS CLOTHES. ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?” Garrett screamed. “OF COURSE NOT, BUT THAT’S ALL RIGHT. BECAUSE I DON’T NEED YOU. I CAN HANDLE THIS ALL ON MY OWN. BUT DON’T SAY I DIDN’T WARN YOU. I TRUSTED YOU AND YOU NEVER CAME THROUGH. I NEVER ASKED FOR THIS. I HAVE A FAMILY OF MY OWN THAT I HAVE TO CARE FOR, I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR BLAIR.”
***
“I didn’t mean that.” Garrett tried to defend himself. “I really didn’t mean to say those things against you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” God said. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Garrett was sure he would live long enough to regret that moment.
At that moment, Garrett wished he could die all over again.
Chapter 41
It wasn’t long before the Dunn family was back home.
“Mommy, I’m hungry.” Imani said.
Mecca figured the entire family was famished because they skipped dinner. They had some refreshments after the program, but otherwise no one had eaten.
“I’ll order a pizza.” Mecca said.
Blair and Imani headed for the stairs to hang up their coats, but Garrett stopped them. Still angry, Garrett was ready to take his frustrations out on the one person he felt was responsible for his troubles. “Blair, come here.” Garrett dashed into the bathroom and returned carrying a scale. He dropped it at Blair’s feet. “Step on the scale.”
“Garrett.” Mecca knew something had been bothering him all night, but she wasn’t sure what it was.
Garrett ignored her and forcefully grabbed Blair by his arm pushing him to step up on the scale.
“One hundred and eighty-four pounds.” Garrett was disgusted. “There is no reason why a ten year old boy should weigh as much as you do. I’m putting you on a diet right now.”
Garrett’s erratic behavior scared Imani. She had never seen her father act this way before. She moved closer to her mother.
“As a matter of fact, you’re skipping dinner tonight so you can get in some exercise.” He pushed Blair out the back door. “Go and run around the block a couple times and don’t come back until you’ve lost one pound. When you return that scale better say one hundred and eighty-three pounds.” Garrett slammed the door in Blair’s face.
“Garrett, that’s insane.” Mecca protested.
“No, that boy is a reflection of me. He doesn’t dress right, he doesn’t act right, he doesn’t look right, but I’m going to change all that right now.”
Imani cried because of her father’s meanness. Mecca led Imani by the hand to the stairs. “Go to your room. I’ll fix you something and bring it up to you.”
Garrett shut himself off from the outside world by hiding away in his bedroom. Downstairs, Mecca paced the floor worried about her stepson out on the violent streets of Camden all alone.
The hands on the clock kept moving, until finally five minutes before the clock struck twelve, Blair walked in.
“Oh! Thank God you’re okay.” She hugged him. He shivered from the cool night air. It was a chilly summer night. “Sit down. I’ll make you a sandwich and some hot chocolate.”
Mecca got busy in the kitchen. It didn’t take her long to make him a sandwich. She set the plate down in front of him, but he pushed it away.
“I’m not hungry.” Blair said.
“Are you sure?” Mecca knelt down beside him. “Listen, I don’t know what’s wrong with your father, but don’t listen to him. I’ll talk to him and—”
“No.” Blair cut her off. “He’s right. I do need to lose some weight.”
Blair pushed by her and stood on the scale. The digital digits read one hundred and eighty-two pounds. �
�I can go to bed now.” Blair disappeared up the stairs.
When Mecca turned in for the night Garrett pretended he was sleep by lying with his back facing her, but she knew he wasn’t sleep, “I can’t believe you did that.” Mecca was furious. She wanted to yell but she didn’t want to wake the children.
Garrett sprang from bed, “Mecca, that boy is too sensitive. Admit it. You’ve noticed how feminine he is. I’m just trying to toughen him up a bit.”
Mecca turned over in a huff and pulled the covers over her shoulders. She was done talking to him for the night, before she did or said something she would later regret.
Chapter 42
Insomnia refused to allow Garrett any rest. Two hours after Mecca turned in for the night; Garrett was still up. Warm milk, mindless television, and even counting sheep; nothing would make him drowsy. He flipped through late night television until he decided to do what Mecca does when she can’t sleep. Pray.
***
“No wonder the need to pray weighed so heavily on my conscience.” From heaven Garrett watched his soul carry a hiker’s backpack that was loaded down with burdens.
“I would have taken it all.” The Lord roared. “But you refused to leave it with me.” His voice turned meek and lowly.
***
Garrett knelt down by his bedside, clasped his hands together and closed his eyes. “Dear Lord,” he began. Then his mind went blank. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Amen.” He got up and lay back down in bed.
***
“You big dummy!” Garrett screamed at himself. “Leave all that junk right there. You know I’m tired of dragging all that excess baggage. Why didn’t you just dump it?”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Kiel said.
“Most humans come to Me in prayer asking for My help.” God said. “Then once they rise up from off the altar, they take the burden with them.”