Gutter - Part 2: The Shine

by Tiana Laveen

  “Yeah. Okay?”

  “I see you did a one-eighty. That’s good. I’ve done things in the past I shouldn’t have either, but I think I wanted to be so different from my father, I may have gone overboard. Not to mention, I had nothing to prove. A lot of people figured I was going to be involved with robbing’ people, selling drugs, all the same shit my father was doing. Even some of my teachers would say snide remarks… expect me to grow up and follow in his footsteps. They acted like I was a statistic before I had even finished the first grade. Promise had similar experiences. She and I dealt with a lot, man. I’m saying this to you because sometimes, it’s like the more we run from something, the closer we get to it. First you have to rise, then you can shine. Maybe in some way, you were supposed to come back home not just to deal with all the stuff involving your mother, but also to meet my sister. In some ways, you think, maybe also to meet yourself? This new version of you?”

  Gutter cocked his head to the side. A husky chuckle escaped his mouth like invisible smoke.

  “Where’d you read that corny Dr. Phil shit from?”

  “A random e-book purchase off Amazon after drinking way too much one night. I had bought some panty-liners and a microwave, in that order. I’m not a woman, and I don’t need a new microwave, yet I did this shit and don’t remember a second of it. The microwave works fantastic, and the panty-liners are under my window plants to catch the water.”

  They both burst out laughing.

  Gutter got to his feet and walked him to the door. They slapped hands, hugged, and then he was on his way.

  “It was a long time ago.”

  “Nuh uh.” Mama turned up her gospel music, Tamela Mann’s ‘Take Me to The King’, as if trying to drown her out. “I don’t wanna hear another word of this shit. You done sat there and told me Trevor talked you into it, but you could have come to me if you were so hard up, Promise. This is disgraceful! I am not discussing it any further. No child of mine… no way! Mmmm mmm! No Lord!”

  “But Mama, you aren’t listening. You couldn’t help me. I explained that to you, and I was much younger then. I didn’t think the way I do now. That comes with experience and maturity. Since Zake is famous, of course they’re going to talk about who I am and my past. He and I are linked in the news now. All of my personal business is out there, even where I live and work. Look at me, Mama. I’m okay.” Promise placed her hand across her chest. “I just need you to understand that it happened, it’s true, nobody is lying on your baby, but although I am definitely not proud of it, I will not live my life with my head hung low. I’ve moved on.”

  “No! Stop talkin’ to me about this nasty mess, Promise. I raised you betta than this! Ask God for forgiveness if you haven’t already, and don’t talk about it no more. Lord have mercy!” Mama’s voice trembled as she pulled the baked salmon out of the oven. It was evident the woman could not handle the gravity of the conversation.

  Promise sighed.

  “Mama… denial, wishing it away, praying it wasn’t true, and all of the things you do as a default won’t stop bad news.”

  “Don’t be comin’ up into my apartment trying to analyze me, Promise! I’m not the one who did this. Stick to talking about you.” She pointed at her and grimaced.

  “I can’t do that because this involves you as well. You have done some things too that are affecting me, and unlike you, I can’t sweep it under the rug.”

  Mama rolled her eyes and put her hand on her hip. “And what now are you all up in arms about, Promise? You’re always mad about something! What’s new?” The lady slammed a towel on the sink and poured water and soap into the basin.

  “I’ll tell you exactly what I am upset about. You met Zake last week, and you were all smiles, real nice and cordial to him. You saw how good he treated me, loved me. Westley vouched for it even, the two of them are becoming fast friends, and you still turned around and told Auntie Jahara yesterday that I was marrying a White man. I got a text message. Thanks a lot, Mama.” Promise rolled her eyes.

  “What? All I said was that you were marrying a White man. Are you not? What’s the big deal?”

  “The big deal is all you got from all of this is that Gutter is White. That was more important to you than seeing how happy I am, and all he’s done for me. Not just with this criminal case and pulling strings to get it moving faster, but also for my mental wellbeing.”

  Mama kept busy, ignoring her, but she knew she was listening.

  “Fine. Keep washing those dishes and playing your gospel music. Keep playing pretend. I can’t do that.” For a moment, she debated walking right out on their dinner date. No. She doesn’t get off this easy again. “There’s nothing worse than someone quoting the bible all day to you, not seeing that they’re the problem.”

  “You could’ve gotten you a Black man.”

  “Unbelievable! You say you love God, and me and Westley, but you’ll still throw us under the bus if we do anything to possibly disturb your allegiance to the Black man! That’s why you’re in church all the time with Reverend Miller. You could find out that his ass was screwing half the choir, and you’d still stand by him, probably blame those ladies for wearing too much makeup, saying they seduced him and he couldn’t help but fall dick first in them.”

  Mama spun around fast, her eyes sparking with anger, and tossed her oven mitt on the kitchen table. The volume seemed to go higher on ‘Take me to the King’.

  “You watch how you talk to me, Promise. I don’t care how grown your ass is! I love my Black men, and my Black husband, your father, and I’m not sorry about it! This ain’t got nothing to do with Reverend Miller, but I am not going to pretend that I wouldn’t prefer you with a Black man. I’m Black, and so are you, in case you forgot. I’m sorry Trevor didn’t treat ya right, but there are other Black men who would have. Zake seems very nice. This is nothing personal. He’s accomplished. I believe he loves you, too, so this has nothin’ to do with that. But I always want what is best for my children, and it goes both ways, ’cause when Westley brought that White girl over here, I let him know he bet not do that shit again.”

  “Mama, you worship an idea, not a reality! You are worshipping a man based on ethnicity, instead of who he is on the inside! So many Black people, including myself at one time, see us here in this country as like some ‘Coming to America’ movie! That’s not the reality. That’s a fairytale. We’re not all from royalty. We’re not all treating each other well. Africa was not some sinless utopia, and we’re not all victims of some other race when shit goes awry. It was Black men, Mama, who were running trains on me in those movies even though they could see I didn’t want to do it. Not the White man! Not the Asian man! Not the Indian man! BLACK MEN! I was desperate!” She could barely breathe, her emotions bursting free. Words dared to tumble out of her like lava. “It was Black men—”

  “NO! I don’t want to hear it!” Mama put her hands over her ears and shook her head. Promise couldn’t believe her eyes. It was like she was standing before a child.

  “Mama, we need to have a serious talk. This has been a long time coming.”

  “Promise, your father is getting out of prison soon. I know you hate him, but I am still legally married to him. I am his wife!”

  “Right now, I haven’t said anything about you and Daddy doing whatever it is you’re doing. You are the one fixated on that, not me. I was talking about something else, and you have conveniently changed the course of the discussion.”

  “Because I need for you two to get along! I need… I need my family! You owe it to us. Where is your loyalty to your family and your race, Promise?”

  “Loyalty? Are you serious?!” Promise leaned back against the counter, her body running hot with rage. “It was a Black man I said wedding vows to, swore before God that I would honor and love and cherish that man, and that same Black man sold me to the highest bidder! It was a Black man, my father, who cheated on my mother and treated me and my brother like trash! He used to curse us out, up one si
de and down the other.”

  “He had a drug problem, Promise! That’s all behind him. He wasn’t in his right mind. God gives second chances and forgiveness. We all need to learn that no matter how hard it is. I get it now though.” Mama looked mad as hell as she pulled the rolls out of the refrigerator to warm up. “You hate Black men.”

  “What? I don’t hate Black men! I love Black men, and I love my Black brother, and I love my Black daddy, in spite of himself, but loving and liking someone are two different things, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to ruin my whole life for the so-called Black community, or anyone for that matter, because I have agreed to marry someone who is not genetically African. Most of the people we walk past in the street don’t give a shit about me or you, unless we’re sacrificing ourselves—our goals, our wishes, our very own lives—for their comfort. Or in my case, lying on my back for a check! Gutter got more soul than Trevor and Daddy combined, and just for the record, Mama, it was that White man, your soon to be son-in-law, who confronted my ex-husband and let him know, the damn buck stops here! I haven’t heard from Trevor since. It was a White cop, a stranger, who showed me more compassion about what happened to me with those pictures sprawled everywhere, while another cop, a Black lady, stood there smirking and laughing about the situation!”

  Mama sniffed and shook her head, seeming on the verge of tears. The woman stood there holding herself, her little apron tattered at the ends. Falling apart, just like her.

  “Promise, you probably misunderstood. She was an officer, just like Westley, so why would she do that?”

  “She didn’t know who my brother was when it was first going down, Mama, and only after she found out did she stop grinning. Black women are not always sisters. We tear each other down when we’re already on the floor! We rejoice in each other’s pain! So, if you think I’m going to stick like glue to people just because they look like me, then you have mistaken me with someone who has no self-worth, no value… no loyalty to myself!” Promise pointed at her chest, her heart on fire. “My loyalty to my mental and emotional well-being comes before ANYONE. God gave us life, Mama, and I’m going to live mine like it’s golden. I’m going to survive and thrive! I will not live in fear! I will not seek men I was in love with for their approval, like I used to, even up until recently. It damn near destroyed my relationship with Zake because I kept the truth from him, which is the same as a lie! Because of embarrassment! Because of being taught, ‘Don’t talk about it… God will take care of it.’ Just like you’re doing right now.”

  “You foolish girl! God takes care of everything! I did not once tell you to give up on nothin’. I told you that no matter how bad something is, pray about it, and God will step in!”

  “Mama, God takes care of those of us who take care of themselves. Did God step in and stop Daddy from cheating? Selling and using drugs? Knocking Westley upside his head for the littlest thing, and calling me everything under the sun, except his daughter?! God will show us signs, Mama, and if we ignore them, then that is on us. God told you to leave my daddy alone by letting all of this foolishness happen for years, and you didn’t.”

  “You can’t talk about my marriage because you don’t know! I’m still married after all of these years, while you’re divorced and have had a hundred boyfriends, and just now got engaged again. You’re thirty-one now. It’s almost too late for you to even start a family. Eggs getting old.” The woman snorted, like she was really making a good point.

  “I don’t think that’s where you want to go, Mama, but since you want to say all of that mess… let me tell you something. Being married, just for the sake of having the title, ‘Mrs.,’ is pathetic. If being married to the same man means that I’ll have to endure what you have imperiled yourself to for almost 40 years, then I don’t want it. You’ve got all these strange health issues due to stress. You can only work part time. You wasted your life with a man who proved he didn’t give a damn about you or us, and if you think God meant this reality for you, you are out of your mind. With your rationality, if we stay in filth, we’ll come out clean, as long as we say a mere prayer. You have completely missed the point of those Bible study lessons.”

  “How you gonna bring God up into this conversation, and you don’t even go to church anymore?”

  “I had no idea that God was only in church, Mama. I admit that I am in no way as religious as you. I don’t know the word the way you do, either, but we do have freedom of choice, intuition, and common sense. God can’t save us from ourselves if we don’t want to be saved! He is not Captain Save a Ho!”

  They went quiet then, the only sound that of the gospel music, and perhaps of hearts breaking. Visibly upset, Mama reached for a cookie sheet and foil.

  “I don’t know what made you and Westley so angry with me,” she said between sniffs. “I did the best I could, Promise. I love my children… I tried.”

  “Mama, Westley and I both know that you loved us then, and now. We never went without food. It wasn’t always what we wanted to eat, but it was something to eat. We had clothes and shoes. His hair was cut, my hair was done. We had school supplies. We were clean, and had some toys and fun stuff, too. You took good care of us… took us to church, read to us, and sometimes, you were a lot of fun to be around. I am not blaming you for not loving us, because you did. I am blaming you, Mama, for not loving yourself.”

  Mama dabbed at her eyes with a paper towel, her back to her, messing around with the foil and cookie sheet. Anything to avoid eye contact.

  “Mama… I just want… I just want you to see how wonderful you are. It’s not too late. You have a lot of life to live. Zake’s mother is not so lucky. She is dying as we speak. You think she’s wasting these last few weeks or days, whatever time she has left, obsessing over the color of my skin? Or a man who didn’t treat her well? How would you feel if Zake’s parents rejected me because I was Black? You’d be angry. His father is Irish American, right wing and conservative. The potential was there. That man loves me like he is my own father. He’s hugged me and told me so. See how life works? It can surprise us, and you can’t judge a book by its cover. Mama, I know you got these ideas about race from your mother, and her mother got them from her own mother, too. You raised me the same way. You’re not necessarily racist; you’ve never told me White people are evil, or not to have White friends, but you wrestle with this sort of thing.”

  Mama moved to face her.

  “I’ll agree to that. I was raised that way, but I’ve had some bad experiences with White people, Promise, that helps back it up.”

  “Mama, you’ve had terrible experiences with Black people, too. You were assaulted by a Black man, your own uncle, when you were a child. His race didn’t save you!” Mama hung her head. “A Black woman literally fought you while you were pregnant with Westley because she wanted Daddy. Her Blackness did not help her see you as a victim of his lies, or a sister, too! You’re not comfortable with the truth of this situation because we’ve been brainwashed. Programmed. It’s easier to blame ‘the White man’ for everything, instead of blaming ourselves for our role in our own demise.

  “We’d have to be living under a rock to not know racial discrimination is real. Police brutality is real. Systemic, covert, and overt racism are real. But we’d also have to be voluntarily blind, willingly not looking at the truth, to not understand how us killing ourselves in these streets has dwindled our population as a collective, far more often and drastically than any other race. Black lives matter. ALL THE TIME. We must have an awakening. A coming to Jesus. A rise and shine! We have to take accountability for how we hurt ourselves, destroy our culture, and overlook the big ass Black elephant in the room instead of only focusing on the white mice, red ants, and little yellow chirping birds. Case in point, let’s start with me.”

  Promise tapped a hand on her chest.

  “I told Zake that though Trevor manipulated me, it was ultimately my decision to make those movies. I have to live with that. Yeah, there were a lot of
mental games and manipulation from him, but I could have refused. I didn’t because I needed the money, and I wanted to make him happy… Like you want to always make Daddy happy.” Mama grabbed another paper towel and blew her nose. “Look at what my Black daddy did to my Black mama! BLACKNESS IS NOT ENOUGH TO SAVE US!”

  Tears streamed down Promise’s cheeks as she approached the woman, then enveloped her in her arms. Mama hugged her back, holding tight. “He made you afraid to stand on your own. Afraid of your own shadow. All this time, you never cheated on him, been with another, while he had probably over fifty women throughout the course of your marriage and rumor has it, Westley and I probably have siblings we’ve never even met.”

  She slowly released her and looked into her eyes.

  “Mama, I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m trying to help you. You brought up how you raised me, and you raised me to be honest, so when I deviated from that, I was filled with guilt. As I should have been. Do you remember what you told me a long time ago about Daddy?”

  Mama sported a confused expression.

  “You let it slip one night over ten years ago, when you were depressed and had been drinking, that he gave you a disease, and yet, you stayed with him. I thank God it wasn’t life threatening, but Mama, even after that, you still protected him! Defended him! You deserve better. Mama, this isn’t a Black and White issue. This is a love versus hate issue. How long are you going to not love yourself and sacrifice yourself for a man who wouldn’t even spit on you if you were on fire? The majority of the people at my job who had a good laugh at my expense were White, Mama. The women who stood up for me, taking the pictures down, while everyone else stood there gawking, were White, too. My boss, who hugged me when I returned to work, and told me everything was going to be all right, went to bat for me, is a Jewish woman you’ve made snide, stereotypical comments about, even though you don’t know her personally, and she has treated me with nothing but professionalism and kindness since the day she interviewed me for the position.”