by E. N. Joy
“Yes, ma’am,” Doreen said again as the female left her to tend to her new job. It was just mopping the floor and wiping down sinks and toilets. The guard had given Doreen instructions on how to clean as if she was working for a maid service.
Doreen slopped the mop out of the industrial-size bucket on wheels. “I’d take baking pound cakes any day over this.” She proceeded to mop up the bathroom with perfection. For a minute there she was acting like she really needed this job. She acted as if just because Willie wasn’t readily assessable to her physically, that he wasn’t looking out for her by putting money on her books. He was, and Doreen appreciated that. It’s just that she’d used it up already, not really realizing how quickly the money could be used up in jail. And she thought she overspent in Woolworth’s . . .
She hadn’t mopped a quarter of that floor when a voice sounded off in Doreen’s head reminding her that she did, in fact, need that job. That job was what was going to keep her mind from being idle for a good part of the day. That job was what was going to keep her from fixating on time—the ticking of the clock and the pages of the calendar. This would make the days go by quicker; one by one.
What this job didn’t do, though, was keep her mind off of Willie. She worried from minute to minute which day would be the day Willie decided he didn’t want to wait around on her anymore. Which phone call would be the last one he’d take from her. Which visit would be her last visit from him. She’d done a horrible thing and wouldn’t blame him if he decided to leave her. She stripped him of a legacy, a child—a son. Yes, she wished the circumstances under which that baby had been conceived had been different. She wished it had been conceived with her. But the child had no power over its predicament. The child didn’t deserve its predicament.
Doreen felt as if she was the only one who deserved her predicament, which is why she would not complain. Which is why she would not place blame. It would be easy to say that Willie and Lauren had no business making a baby together—sneaking around together. Some scorned women would even say that Lauren had it coming; that Doreen had every right to go off on her. That’s not how Doreen felt, though. What other people did was their business. What other people did and how they acted should not affect the way she acted. As a child of God she knew better; yet, she grieved Him anyway with her actions. This was her punishment. Be if from God or just the state of West Virginia, it was her retribution, and she would take it like a woman.
Now halfway finished with the floor, Doreen allowed her thoughts to travel to good places. They fast-forwarded to thoughts of her getting out of jail and Willie right there waiting for her with open arms. Him taking her into those arms and whispering in her ear how much he loves her and how he’s forgiven her. Even fast-forwarding after that, she envisioned herself in Willie’s arms, making love to her husband, then learning later that he would be a father after all. She would fill the void, his feeling of loss, by giving him what she had taken from him in the heat of passion—a crime of passion. She would carry his seed.
As the good thoughts consumed Doreen, she picked up the pace on her task at hand, finishing up the entire floor in prison-record time. It wasn’t necessarily a record she’d been striving to break, but she had nonetheless.
A loud whistle caught Doreen’s attention. She’d just kneeled down on her hands and knees to begin cleaning her first toilet.
“It’s sparkling clean in here,” the voice said after whistling.
Doreen looked up to see a group of women. She noticed two of them off the bat as the women from the cafeteria when she first got locked up. They were the two who had whispered something in the woman’s ear she’d been dining with. After further observation, Doreen even noticed the woman she had been sitting with. The woman who had scurried off after the women had whispered in her ear—but not before hurling the insult of “baby killer” at Doreen.
“Thank you.” Doreen accepted the compliment as if she had just invited some sisters from the church into her home and they’d complimented on her cleanliness.
A couple of the women in the group of five looked at one another and chuckled. One got serious and said, “You’re welcome.” She looked around the floor, then said to Doreen, “But you missed a spot.”
Doreen followed to where the woman’s eyes had just roamed. “Where?” Every spot she looked at was clean.
“Right here.” The woman with her hair swept back into a ponytail and a lightly made-up face hocked up a wad of spit and spat it within inches of Doreen.
Doreen looked at the woman, her jeans fitting a little snug and her prison-issued shirt tied at her belly button, almost like a halter. To look so ladylike, she sure wasn’t acting ladylike.
Taking the rag she had been cleaning the toilet with, Doreen went to wipe up the fluid next to her.
“Uh-uh.” The woman was quick in bending over and snatching the rag out of Doreen’s hand and throwing it on the ground. “That ain’t how you get it cleaned up.” She bent down, squatting in Doreen’s face. “If you want something cleaned up real good you gots to lick it up. And I bet that little tongue of yours is just magic.” She winked while the other women chuckled.
A feeling began to rise up in the pit of Doreen’s belly. Something wasn’t feeling right. She took a deep breath and simply went for the rag that had been taken out of her hand. Another one of the women was quick to walk over and kick it away.
“You heard what my girl Lecia said,” the kicker told Doreen. “She wants you to lick it up.”
“Yeah,” Lecia said, eyeballing Doreen. “Then after that, I got something else I’m gon’ need you to lick.”
“Oooh, can I watch?” one of the other girls mumbled while another chuckled.
Doreen just sat there now, staring down at the ground. Yea thou I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, Doreen prayed in her head. Because right now, under the shadow the women hovering over her were casting off, it felt like death was on its way.
“Did you hear me?” Lecia spat. “Why you just sitting there? You heard me; lick it up . . . now. And if I have to tell you again, it ain’t gon’ be nice.”
Doreen swallowed hard, keeping the vomit down that wanted to rise up at just the thought of licking up that woman’s spit off the floor. But do I deserve this, God? Doreen asked in her head. Is this part of my punishment too?
She couldn’t imagine God would want her to do something so degrading—so disgusting. But as she looked up at the women, she had to remind herself that this wasn’t God giving her the order. She knew that God did not give her the spirit of fear, but she was scared. She was afraid that if she didn’t do what these women wanted her to do, there would be hell to pay. She had ten months with them and an eternal lifetime with the Lord was how Doreen saw it as she kneeled over and positioned herself to do as she was told.
“I can’t believe that stupid broad actually licked up your spit,” one of the women said to Lecia as Doreen now hung over the toilet gagging and spitting out the mixture of the woman’s body fluids and the remnants of the cleaning solution.
“Heck, me either,” Lecia said, laughing. “She’s easy. Witch ain’t got no backbone. But then again, I suppose someone who beats a baby to death is no match for a grown woman like myself.”
“Please,” Doreen said in between gagging and spitting in the toilet, “it’s not what everybody thinks. It’s not like that.”
“Waaa, waaa, waaa. Somebody pull out the string instruments and give this sad song some background music,” Lecia said sarcastically. She got down on the floor with Doreen, grabbing her by the throat. “Yeah, I roll with some hard-core broads up in here. They done done a little murdering, robbing, assault—you know—that type of thing. But what ain’t none of ’em ever done was harm a helpless child. But you did, and you’re going to pay for that.” Lecia released Doreen and watched as Doreen went on a coughing spell.
By the time Doreen finished coughing, choking, and getting her breathing back in order, she looked up to see that
Lecia now had the mop in her hand. Doreen looked deep into Lecia’s eyes that told a story. They told a horrific story about what Lecia’s plans with that mop were going to be. And before Doreen could even register it all, she felt hands and knees pinning down every limb of her body. She felt someone’s weight sitting on her stomach while hands clawed at stripping her naked from the waist down.
After that, she felt nothing. It was as if God had spared her; removing her from her fleshly vessel, allowing her spirit to rise above it while the women did the unthinkable.
Chapter Thirty-four
“I can’t give you no babies, Willie,” Doreen stated as she lay in the hospital bed, handcuffed to the bedpost. “After what those women did to me, the doctor says I’m never going to be able to have babies.” Doreen burst into tears as she lay there in agony crying. Her body hurt. Her heart hurt. Everything hurt.
No, there was no way this could all be part of God’s punishment. Or was it? Doreen, whether intentional or not, had taken the life of a baby. Now she had been robbed of the ability for a new life to exist within her. Had God resorted back to the ways of an eye for an eye? But Jesus had preached to not think in that manner. Surely God wouldn’t act in that manner. No, God would not take away her ability to have a baby because she had taken the life of a baby. God would never go back on His Word. It would never return void.
“It’s . . . it’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” Willie rubbed Doreen’s head. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Reen. Everything is going to be all right.”
“But it’s not. The one thing I took from you, your son, now I can’t give it back.” She pulled her body up as far as it would go. Then she looked upward, lashing an angry tongue at the Lord. “Why, God? Why?” Then she rested back and had to remind herself that when all this drama first went down, she’d basically told God to “bring it on.” She’d served herself up to Him on a silver platter letting God know daily how whatever punishment He deemed fit to give her, she would accept it. It looked as though Doreen was having a hard time keeping up her end of the bargain.
Almost robotically, Willie dazed off and repeated, “It’s . . . it’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” He continued to rub Doreen’s head. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Reen; everything is going to be all right.”
Willie didn’t mean that. Doreen could tell by his voice. He was just saying that in order not to make matters seem any worse. But they couldn’t get any worse as far as Doreen was concerned. Wasn’t nothing else God could do to her now in order to get a reaction out of her. She’d been raped by those women in the bathroom, with objects and with their flesh. As a result, she’d been raped of the ability to ever have children.
Since the miscarriage, Doreen had dreamed of getting pregnant again and giving Willie a son. She became even more desperate after taking the life of his son that only had a couple more weeks in the womb before joining them on earth. She loved Willie. He was every other heartbeat in her body. He was her first. In spite what those women did to her, he was the only person she’d had sex with—made love to. He was her one and only. She couldn’t imagine life without him. Rather than get released from jail and go home to nothing—nobody—she’d rather stay behind bars.
But would Willie even be there waiting for her now? Now that she couldn’t give him what could make things whole again, would he still be there? For Doreen, it already felt like Willie’s contact with her was forced. Even now, as he attempted to comfort her, he didn’t look her in the eyes. He just stared off in a daze. What was he afraid he’d see in her eyes if he looked into them? Would he see his wife? The one who he took vows to love until death do them part? Or would he see a killer? The woman responsible for the death of his baby?
“I don’t blame you if you want to leave.” Doreen sniffed as she calmed down.
“Aw, no, baby. My boss said I could have the rest of the day off to be with you,” Willie replied.
“That’s not what I meant, Willie. I mean, I don’t blame you if you want to leave me . . . forever . . . divorce.”
“Now you just talking straight-up nonsense, woman.” Willie stood up and shooed his hand, turning his back to Doreen with folded arms. “I ain’t gon’ leave you. Why would I go and do a thing like that?”
“I just told you why. I can’t give you no babies.”
“Then it will just be me and you,” he turned back toward her and said. “Whoever said God meant for us to have babies together in the first place?” He shrugged.
“Don’t you try to downplay it, Willie. I know how much you want a child. And you know how much I wanted to give you one. And you would have one if it wasn’t for . . .” Doreen’s words trailed off. She wasn’t sure what circumstance she should bring up. The one of her losing their baby because she came out on an icy winter night to cut the fool and ended up falling and miscarrying. Or the one with her cutting the fool in the motel room. Either way it went, both losses were because of her.
It was then, though, when she thought about a third loss; the one with Agnes. But she didn’t have anything to do with that one. Doreen almost felt like a monster for finding solace in not having anything to do with Agnes deciding to abort the baby she conceived with a married man.
That’s when it hit Doreen. Maybe God wasn’t punishing her. Maybe He was punishing Willie. Maybe it was Willie God didn’t see fit to raise any children. Maybe this was God’s way of breaking a curse, one that Doreen had no idea how far back in Willie’s bloodline it ran. Again, she felt like a monster finding solace in that thought as well.
“Having babies and all,” Willie said, “it just ain’t that important anymore, you know? What’s important is you making it through your prison sentence and coming out of this place in sound mind and body.” Willie went back and sat down next to Doreen.
Her heart leaped bounds hearing his words. Maybe it took such a time as this to bring about a change in Willie that would lead them to true marital bliss. And for that, Doreen was willing to give up one year of her life in order to have a lifetime with Willie. Tears fell from her eyes she was so moved.
Upon noticing the tears, Willie kicked right back into gear. “It’s . . . it’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” Again, he rubbed Doreen’s head. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Lauren; everything is going to be all right.”
Doreen’s eyes froze open as she looked at Willie. He’d just called her Lauren. She waited to see if he would correct himself. He never did. He just kept rubbing her head, telling her that it was okay and that everything would be all right. She could tell that must have been what he’d done, what he’d said to Lauren when she found out the fate of their child. She figured when he’d been so hard to reach, that’s where he’d been—with her—comforting her. He’d been by her side doing and saying the exact same things he was now doing and saying to Doreen.
Doreen relaxed her body, letting her head fall even deeper into the pillow on which she lay. Tears spilled from the corner of her eyes. She wasn’t so sure of things anymore like she’d been a moment ago. She was sure Willie would be there physically when she got out. She felt the deep sincerity in his words when he’d promised her that he would be. But what Doreen wasn’t sure about was whether everything would be okay—if everything would be all right. Would he be there for her emotionally as well? Would Willie’s heart and mind be with Doreen, or would his heart and mind be somewhere else, like with Lauren?
Chapter Thirty-five
“Well, does this look like crazy to you?” Terrance shot, snapping Mother Doreen back to her present thoughts. Looking at the photo of Lauren, looking into that woman’s eyes, it had taken her back, way back, to a place she hadn’t been in years.
“Your mother was a beautiful woman,” Mother Doreen said, looking away from the picture and at Terrance. “I could see why my Willie would . . .” Mother Doreen stopped her words right there in their tracks. She couldn’t even believe she was about to tell that boy she could see why Willie would want to be with his mother. That would have been a
lie. She couldn’t see it. She didn’t understand why Willie, after taking vows with her, could cheat on her with any woman.
Knowing what Mother Doreen had been fixing to say, Terrance said, “Well, I can’t see why my momma would want to fool with his sorry tail. And you either, for that matter.”
“Now you hold on right there, young man. I will not let you speak ill of the dead, especially not about Willie.” She looked up. “God rest my Willie’s soul.” She drew an invisible cross across her heart with her index finger.
“How on God’s green earth can you stand here to this day and defend that man? After what he did? Not just to you, but to everybody? That man destroyed every woman along his path in one way or another. Trust me, I know. Like I said, I done did my research,” Terrance stated. “His lying and cheating ways changed everybody’s life . . . forever. But no, just like all those years ago, instead of being mad at him, you blamed the women. You blamed my mother. You beat her down like a dog in the streets while you should have had your foot up his a—”
“Mr. Terrance. Please. Not in God’s house.”
“Then let’s take it outside, because I don’t want to have to hold back no more because of God. Besides, you wasn’t thinking about no God back at that motel was ya?”
“As a matter of fact, I wasn’t. I let my anger consume me.”
“And that’s understandable. I mean, I think any woman who walks into a motel room and finds her husband on top of another woman is gonna be angry. But it was your husband you should have been angry at. He’s the one who took vows with you, not my momma. She didn’t owe you nothing.”
Staying as calm as she could, Mother Doreen explained. “I was angry at Willie. I was angry at your mother too. I think you are incorrect about something. I think we all owe each other respect, and to be decent and kind to one another.”
“Yeah, what you did was real decent and kind,” Terrance huffed sarcastically.
