by Tiana Laveen
“Alright! This is wonderful news, Juanita. We are here for you, go right ahead,” a small woman said as she swung her leg back and forth.
Juanita nodded. “My dead father’s best friend raped me from the time I was seven, until the age of twelve. He was helping my mom out after my dad died. I guess he thought he was owed something, I told my mother at his funeral.” Juanita gave a weak smile, one filled with pain. No one seemed to blink an eye at the horrid revelation.
“She believed me. I didn’t think she would, but she did. You’d think that would have gotten me through, made it okay. The man was dead after all, took his own life, and my mother never made me feel ashamed, but no counseling came. Nothing was offered. We just went on with life, business as usual.” She paused. Xzion’s stomach turned. He didn’t want to hear this and worse yet, a story like this would not have made him feel anything at all, but today, that wasn’t true. He hated it, every damn syllable.
“Then, I got pregnant at fourteen. Lost that baby...my mother and I never told anyone about it. It was just the two of us. Then, when I was sixteen, she got remarried. My stepfather was fine, he was nice. Yes, Dave was nice but he took the only friend I had away from me, so,” she shrugged, “I resented it. I started getting real wild, partying, not coming home. My grades dropped. My mother told me to get my act together. I didn’t. My mother had another baby. That was the final straw for me. I packed my shit, ’scuse me, my stuff, and moved in with a friend. It broke my mother’s heart. She asked me, when would I stop being mad at her? I told her I didn’t know what she was talking about. At the time, I didn’t. But, she was right. I hated her for not noticing what was happening to me. I hated her for letting that man be around us, a guy that would do something like that, and I hated myself, for not saying anything—for believing that it was normal, just like he told me. I hated that she had a new friend, that I was replaceable. That’s how I saw it, you know.” She nodded at her own train of thought. “That she replaced me. Everybody did...
“I started using later in life and that’s why I was able to stay in denial because I never used drugs prior, didn’t have a history of this. I’d drink on occasion, but nothing more. Then, when I was twenty-three, I met my husband and got married. I stayed in the church from that point on. My husband was a preacher. I was the first lady. Everything was goin’ great for a long while then...” her eyes watered, “my mother died. Hadn’t spoken to the woman for a length of time, because I was doing these retreats, travelling. She was sick, had breast cancer. Didn’t tell anyone... I lost my best friend, again.” The woman took a deep breath.
Xzion leaned forward in his seat, and looked at the woman. Really looked. Previously, he only saw a cardboard figure, she wasn’t flesh and blood, but now, things were changing. He saw something inside of her, and it grew with each word she spoke. He’d read about all of this, seen several documentaries, but nothing compared to seeing and hearing it in person. He hadn’t been moved or cajoled. They were just stories...Now, he had a face to match with the sordid tales, a voice he could hear and eyes he could meet. You could see the anguish and misery on these people’s faces, their daily struggle. Maybe they were weak, just like he’d professed, but now he saw that weakness was not only a crutch, but protection. It was the one lifeline left to being human. Weakness meant you needed help, and for some, asking for help was actually strength.
“Well, that was it for me!” Juanita looked around the room as she slapped her upper thighs. “I had gotten drunk after I saw my dead mama in the hospital, and went to a bar...drove to a bar way across town so none of the parishioners would see me. A handsome man was in that bar, I told him of my problems. Slept with that man that same night!” She slapped her leg again, laughing—a dismal laugh, with misery coming to the surface for all to witness.
“Had never had an affair, ever. After we had sex, he pulled out some crack, and we smoked it together. My husband kept calling me; I turned the phone off and stayed with that man for the entire weekend. Left my kids and husband in a mess... I finally came back home, pretended I had just needed some alone time, and never spoke of the incident. I planned my mother’s funeral along with my stepfather, pretending I was just fine, but a few days later, I called that man again, and got more crack. He wasn’t a dealer though. He introduced me to one, and I’d go to him two, three times a week.
“I kept my job, but then my husband noticed money missin’. I couldn’t explain it. I was gone sometimes days at a time. Then, I got real brazen with it. Someone was stealing from the church, too. I pretended to be outraged until my husband confronted me. He’d known it was me...told me to get my act together or he was leaving. I’d heard that before, my mother told me the same—told me to get my act together, or she’d put me out. I moved out, called her bluff and to him, I said, ‘Bye!’” She huffed, looked away.
“I hated him for being good to me...didn’t think I deserved it. He stayed with me anyway, but my kids wanted out. Nothing breaks your heart more than hearing your daughter, your first born, tell you she hated you. And I could see she meant it.
“My life was falling apart. My husband kept praying for me. I stopped going to church, told him I didn’t need his prayer. He froze the accounts. I didn’t have any money, so I started stealing again, even sold myself a few times...” She paused, quickly wiped tears away and continued. That’s when I got busted. Cops got me for solicitation...had to go to court. I chose rehab. It saved my life, my marriage...my kids. I had been in deep trouble, from the time I was seven. I was in total denial about how I got where I did...thought I had it all together. Now, I just try to focus on my family and staying clean. I get the urge sometimes, if those dark memories come back...but I fight. It’s my testimony and now, I talk to children who are victims of abuse. It has been easier for me to talk to kids than other adults about this—until now. I needed to come clean, make a difference. We only get one life, and mine is precious.”
A small smattering of applause broke out.
“I gotta give back, help at least a girl or boy out there, to not stay silent or blame themselves. If you don’t address it, it comes back to haunt you.”
“How old were you when you first tried crack?” Xzion was shocked at hearing his own voice aloud. It almost sounded as if someone else were speaking. He blurted the question before he had a chance to examine himself and talk his way out of it. Jayme looked at him, a faint smile on her face.
“I was thirty-three. I’m now forty- two.”
Silence filled the room. Jayme began to squirm in her seat, causing Xzion to move slightly away from her, giving her room. She slowly rose from her chair.
“Hi, my name is Claudia... in case anyone forgot.”
“Hello, Claudia,” everyone said in unison.
Xzion looked up at her, his eyes fixated on her beauty. The curves of her body, the way her hands nervously gripped the fabric of her burgundy pants… He was in awe of her, drowning in love. He was also concerned, very concerned.
What is she going to say? Shit...please, please don’t do this, Jayme...
He sucked in air, bracing himself. He’d scanned her several times, knew that there were no drugs in her system since the first day he’d seen her in that strip club. The situation scared him; like a Pandora’s box, he didn’t know what to expect.
“I have a best friend. He...”
He? Her best friend is a he? New emotion launched...pangs of gooey, green jealousy...
“...is my brother.”
Sighs of relief escaped Xzion’s lips. He rubbed his knees and stared down at the ground, concentrating on a cookie crumb between his feet.
“My brother is a wonderful person. He always protected me, helped me with my school work, and is just the type of person you’d want for a best friend. I watched him change from a good person to someone I didn’t even know. His drugs of choice are alcohol and cocaine.”
Xzion felt himself growing warm all over, tingly. His brain felt as if it may be swelling, he w
asn’t sure...
“My brother is gay. He has known since he was a little boy. Our parents are very religious and strict, especially my father. My dad told him being gay was a sin, that he’d go to hell. I know better than that, a lot of people know better than that, but he’d prefer to lose his son than accept the truth. They tried to pray it out of him. The lack of acceptance from them forced him into a downward spiral. To appease our parents, he started dating girls, but he didn’t want to. That was when the drinking began. He was on the basketball team, popular...if someone found out he was gay, his reputation would be trashed. My brother is smart and handsome and for some reason, the world thinks if he is gay, too, he is suddenly less smart and handsome.” Her eyes watered.
I should’ve known this was going to happen... she’s going for the gusto...
Xzion bit his lip and deliberated on what to do. He huffed, still looking at the ground, yet moved his hand toward her and ran his fingertips along hers, then, took hold with a slight squeeze. She glanced down at him, her big beautiful dark brown eyes moist. She smiled a sad, cracked smile, worn with worry and regret.
Now, he felt indignity...
“He couldn’t take it anymore. He told my parents he was gay once again—this time, not backing down. They kicked him out. I was a teenager, still living at home and my best friend was gone. He had to live on the streets. He jumped from friend to friend’s house, and before long, he was into cocaine. He had an expensive raging habit that turned him into a monster. He got thin—muscular, but thin. He’d lost thirty pounds and looked like a skeleton the next time I saw him. He was angry, filled with hatred. He called our parents all sorts of names. He had been attacked trying to make it, trying to live. He wouldn’t even tell me what happened to him out on those streets. As close as we were, he shut me out. I knew that whatever it was, it was pretty bad. My brother was a strong man,” she shot an angry glance down at Xzion, “he wasn’t weak or easily swayed. He was just trying to escape the hell he was in, didn’t mean he was a bad person.”
“No, it didn’t,” someone said from the crowd.
“He taught me how to read. I knew how to read as soon as I started kindergarten because of him. He read to me every night. Stood up for me. I regret that I had never stood up for him as a kid. I believed what my parents told me, like most kids do. He was five years older than me, my hero, and even with all of that, I had turned my back on him, and maybe if I hadn’t,” she sobbed now, her fist on her forehead, her body shaking, “...maybe if I hadn’t, this would have never happened.”
“You know better than that.” Mrs. Coleman’s voice burst through the tranquility, her warm smile stonewashed with wrought-iron truth. “An addict will do what they think they need to do to make the hurt stop. You were not the one that rejected him, your parents did, but even they are not responsible anymore. He is a grown man making these decisions. You have to take your power back. What is your relationship with him like now?”
“It’s good, but...I can’t see him when he is strung out. I just can’t be around him like that.” Her voice was strong, but the tears still streamed, as if they were coming down someone else’s face. Xzion squeezed her hand again.
I’m sorry, baby...
“You seem like you might have some influence over him. I assume you’ve asked him to get clean?” one of the people asked.
Jayme nodded. “Countless times. He always says he will when he is ready. Then, sometimes he says yeah, he is going to...but he never does. He is an amazing person. All of his potential is going down the drain. I know he can’t change for me though. He has to change for himself because he knows he is worth it. I just want him to know that he is worth it. He deserves to be happy.” She paused, deliberating over her words.
“Thanks for letting me speak. Thank you for letting me hear some of your stories. It helps. Some of the things he is too proud to admit to me, I know, in a way, you spoke for him.” Jayme sat back down, staring into space as others stood and spoke. Occasionally she’d smile and nod, but her pain was still at the surface.
Low was the ground, but Xzion felt as if it were the sky, because he was so low, so very low to the bottom of the world, that the only way out of it was up. He’d never felt so bad about himself, ever. He’d looked into the eyes of these people, in the eyes of the woman that he loved, and he saw the hurt he caused her by his calloused, careless words.
He was no longer competing with the sun for her attention—he was competing with the wickedness within him. For instance, he still didn’t feel bad about the murders, and that was a daily struggle. Anything that had clearly defined purpose to save lives, he slept just fine at night about it, but this was different. He had no idea how much he hated the users as well, for making his life harder, forcing him to come from home and work their evil land, trying to make their minds right for plucking. But...if it were not for the addicts, he’d never have met Jayme, so in a way, he owed that old homeless woman fifty dollars and more. It was money well spent, but no amount of money could fix the damage he’d caused.
****
Xzion watched the sun rise, alone. He turned his naked body away from the guest bedroom window and slumped down onto the air mattress, his dog tags clinked together as a static buzz came from several computer screens. One showed various reports spiraling across, running green codes in fast motion. Another flashed black and white images, a collage of faces for him to memorize. Then, he glanced at the double cameras focused on his master suite. He scooted closer to the screens, squinting in the darkness as he rubbed his weary eyes. There she was, locked away like an animal.
She didn’t venture out into the hall that evening as she customarily did; she simply stayed inside. Her hair caressed her shoulders above the sheets that covered her smooth body. Her toes peeked out from under the cover. She stretched them, while looking aimlessly toward the window. The car ride home had been long and depressing. They held hands, but no words were exchanged. She didn’t cry once she said goodbye to the group of people. It was almost as if it had never happened—only her silence proved that it in fact had.
Xzion continued to struggle. His logic told him that he was correct in everything he said. His heart told him to shut up.
Heart...
Right, huh? Being right is more important than anything else? The truth, as I know it, has to be her truth, too...because… I...love her. Should she just adopt my views and rise above her ineptness as a human being? How can I love her for her, if I think I’m better than her, in every way possible?
You’re not better than her... she is better than you...never forget that.
He casually glanced back at the camera and did a double take.
“What the?!”
He leaned in, his nose almost touching the screen. His right eye zoomed in, a red beam tracing her form. She stood in front of one of the cameras, looking into it, her eyes glassy, sad...
A smile budded then, breaking the melancholy. He’d seen her naked before. She’d taken to changing in the bedroom, teasing him, toying with him, but she always did it quickly and never made eye contact with him—as if it weren’t intentional. This time, there was no question that it was deliberate. He immediately punched the speaker button.
“Hey Jayme, what are you doing? Are you not feeling well? Do you want something?”
Don’t play with me tonight.Goddamn you.
She didn’t respond. Instead, she stood a bit back from the camera vantage lens, allowing her full form to be seen. He watched as the sheet dropped from her body. He punched a button, causing the room to be bathed in soft, white light. She raised her arm to blanket her eyes from the sudden glow. He studied her slowly, from her neck, all the way down to her feet. He’d never seen her so clearly before. Each dip and curve of her tall, slender body made his groin throb. He put the light on a lower setting, allowing her to relax.
“Do you want something?” he repeated over the intercom, clearing his throat, trying to remove the neediness from his voice. Aga
in, she didn’t respond. He watched her turn away from the camera and return to the bed.
Jayme, I don’t know what’s going on here. What the hell are you doing?
He looked away, shook his head and glanced back up at the running reports. None of the samples came back right. Aton sent new formulas for him to try; he’d work on them later. He sighed and turned back to the camera.
“Holy shit!” he yelled.
Jayme lay sprawled across the bed, her thighs wide open. He zoomed in on her pussy, licking his lips hungrily and grazing the screen with his fingertips.
“Jayme, stop it. Don’t play games with me. We both have had a rough night. Put some damn clothes on,” he said through the speaker, trying to not squeak out the words.
Liar!
But it was the right thing to say. You don’t want to do this; you’re just feeling bad tonight. “Come in here,” she invited softly.
It took a while for that to sink in, then almost tripped over himself to rush to the door. But just then, courage failed him. He took a deep breath and walked back to the camera intercom.
“For what?”
She’d been testing his patience all night, and now, she was going in for the kill. He’d even contemplated letting her go, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. She was doing things to him, making him feel certain ways, and he felt himself drowning inside of her warmth. She was bad for him, but he couldn’t imagine his days without her.
“I know what this is about. It won’t work. I’m turning off the cameras.” And he did just that.
He scooted back from the black screens and lay back on the mattress, propping his hands behind his head and looking up at the ceiling. But all he saw was her naked body again, and again and again, until he felt like bursting. Muttering curses under his breath, he got back up and stared at the blank screens. She would have seen the light stop on the camera, alerting her that, for once, the damned thing wasn’t focused on her. He wondered if she’d fallen asleep, what she was doing...
