In the Midst of It All

by Tiffany L. Warren

  “Dag,” whispered Emil. He held his finger to his lips, telling Zenovia to stay quiet.

  “Who is that?” Zenovia smiled at the old woman’s saucy tone.

  “It’s me, Grandma.”

  “Emil! Ain’t no school today?”

  Emil laughed, “I’m on winter break, Grandma.”

  “Oh. You want something to eat? I just made some okra.”

  “No thanks, Grandma. I’m cool. I’m ’bout to watch some TV.”

  “All right, baby.”

  Emil covered his mouth to keep from giggling and showed Zenovia into his father’s house.

  “I didn’t know your parents were divorced,” Zenovia said.

  “They aren’t. They just don’t live together.”

  Zenovia was confused. “So they’re legally separated?”

  “Not exactly. My dad visits Gladys when he wants to get some, like on their anniversary or his birthday.”

  Zenovia laughed. “That’s crazy!”

  “No, it’s not. They love each other, but they don’t get along so well.”

  Zenovia glanced around the room. There were pictures of scantily clad women on all of the walls. Some of the pictures were torn from magazines, some were posters, and some were Polaroids.

  “This is a bachelor pad,” Emil explained.

  “Obviously.”

  Emil went to the small refrigerator in the even tinier kitchen. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “What do you have?”

  “Beer, wine coolers…”

  Zenovia laughed. “How about Kool-Aid?”

  Emil shook his head. “No can do. There’s some ginger ale in here, though.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  Emil took Zenovia to the living room area which was very sparsely furnished. There was a big soft recliner, and that was it.

  Zenovia looked around the room. “Where are we supposed to sit?”

  “We can share! It’s a big chair, Zee.”

  Zenovia grinned at the mischievous look in Emil’s eyes. She wondered how Emil did it. How was he able to make her forget about his pregnant fling with one smile?

  It was chilly in the house, so Emil dashed into his bedroom and emerged with a blanket. He and Zenovia snuggled into the recliner, him with a Molson Ice and her with a can of ginger ale. He turned on the TV with a remote and started flicking through the channels, settling on Star Trek reruns.

  “Are you kidding me?” Zenovia asked. “You’re a Trekkie?”

  “Yes, I’m a Trekkie. Does that surprise you?”

  “Yeah, it kinda does. You don’t seem like a guy who would like sci-fi.”

  Emil cleared his throat. “Well, I do. I mean, don’t you ever think about the universe?”

  Zenovia burst into laughter. “The universe? Emil…”

  “I’m serious. Like what if there is some parallel universe out there where we’re living alternate lives?”

  Zenovia’s laughter had turned into a full-fledged giggle fit. Tears were running from her eyes. And it wasn’t because what Emil was saying was so funny. It was because he was dead serious about it.

  Emil continued, “Check it out. You could be in some other time continuum….”

  “Time continuum?”

  “Yes. Time continuum. And you might not have met me. You could be kicking it with your little Brethren drone Tristan, slaving for the organization.”

  “I’m not liking that,” Zenovia said with a scrunched-up nose. “I’m glad I’m in this dimension.”

  “Me, too,” replied Emil. He punctuated his sentiment with a kiss on Zenovia’s nose.

  She shrank away from his touch, because a picture of Sienna and her wild braids flashed before her eyes. But Emil was persistent. He kissed her again on her cheek and this time she didn’t resist.

  Their kissing turned into petting which quickly turned into blouses and shirts being removed. Before Zenovia could resist properly, she was in Emil’s bedroom and in his bed, acting out the vision she’d already seen.

  The truth was she didn’t want to resist. She wanted this boy who said he loved her, and she wanted to rebel against the Brethren who did not care about another boy who killed himself because he wanted to serve them. She wanted Emil all for herself and she knew that she couldn’t compete with the Siennas of the world.

  Girls like Mia got Tristan, and girls like Sienna ended up with Emil.

  She wasn’t Mia or Sienna, but she didn’t want to lose Emil. Even if she ended up being just another jump-off to him. She wanted to give him her virginity, because what else did she have that he wanted?

  Guys like Tristan wanted girls with brains, but Emil… no matter what he said, he wanted the body.

  Chapter Twenty

  What’s wrong with you?” Audrey asked.

  She was referring to Zenovia and the ridiculous funk of a mood she found herself in. It all started the day after she’d given her virginity to Emil. It wasn’t anything that he’d done or said, because he’d been especially attentive, sweet, and everything a recently satisfied boyfriend should be.

  It wasn’t that she was bothered about Sienna, because she simply wasn’t. She had exed Sienna right out of her mind as if her or Emil’s supposed baby didn’t exist.

  It was more about her vision. The vision she’d had of her and Emil fornicating and how she’d casually fulfilled it as if it was fate. She couldn’t believe that God would predestine her to sin against Him, but how else could she explain the vision?

  She thought back on her conversation with Tristan about destiny and fate. Did she have a choice, once she saw a vision? Or did God know what path she’d choose even if He wished her to do otherwise? It was all confusing, and she didn’t know what to think.

  What she did know was that the Brethren didn’t have the answers.

  They’d gone to a Brethren Bible study the day after she’d sinned with Emil, and she was definitely on edge. She wondered if the Holy Spirit was going to reveal something to the Council of Elders or to Tristan. Would her secret be written all over her face?

  To make things even worse, Bryce Goodman had stood before the congregation giving a lecture about immorality. He talked about the stench of sin and how God chastises those He loves.

  The whole eight minutes he was before the congregation irritated Zenovia to no end. The man was either having or planning to have a flagrant affair on his wife, and he stood up there talking about the stench of sin.

  The scripture that kept playing in Zenovia’s mind was, “For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.”

  So wouldn’t that mean everyone in the congregation was covered in the stench of sin? The Brethren never talked about forgiveness, grace, mercy, or God’s love. Only about what would happen if you got caught sinning.

  In his sermon, Bryce even encouraged people to snitch on those that they knew were engaged in some kind of sin. He’d said that it was ideal for a believer to confess his sins, but that not everyone had the strength to do that, and that it was of utmost importance to keep the congregation clean.

  From the stench of sin.

  It all bothered Zenovia, because she wondered what kind of Christian she was. She wasn’t repentant. She wasn’t even sad about what she’d done. So what did that mean?

  Did she not love God?

  The thought of God thinking that she didn’t love Him affected her more than anything that the Brethren preached across the pulpit. She had come home from the Bible study and prayed. She had asked God to forgive her even though she wasn’t sorry. She didn’t know if that was right or if God even heard it.

  But she prayed it anyway.

  Zenovia snapped out of her recollection and peered at her mother, who seemed to be looking right through her. “Nothing is wrong, Mom. I’m okay.”

  “Listen,” she said, “I know what you’re going through. Sometimes the things we do against the Lord help to make our lives a testimony for someone else.”

  Zenovia smiled. Audrey gi
ving advice was rare, and it was even less likely that she would say anything lucid. Zenovia wondered if she’d seen a vision of her and Emil. The thought of it made her skin crawl.

  She decided that she didn’t want to know, so she took Audrey’s advice at face value.

  Audrey wasn’t big on lectures. She’d say what she had to say and let it go. Zenovia appreciated her for this, especially since Audrey could start off on one subject and end up somewhere totally different and cursing you out when you didn’t even know you were arguing.

  Zenovia’s pager buzzed on her hip. It read 149-911. It was Emil and it was an emergency. Immediately she picked up the phone and called him. It crossed her mind to ask him why he always paged her instead of just calling her!

  “Hello,” said Emil.

  “Hi there,” said Zenovia. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Yes…”

  “Why don’t you ever call me? Why do you always page me?”

  Emil took a long pause before responding. “I never know what’s going on with Audrey, so I just let you call me back. Is that cool?”

  Zenovia smiled. “Yes. I was hoping that it wasn’t some kind of ego thing.”

  “Um… no,” Emil replied.

  She asked, “Is there something wrong?”

  He sighed. “Yeah, kinda. Can we meet?”

  “Sure. At the rink?”

  “No. Let’s do the mall.”

  “Okay, when?”

  “Now.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you there.”

  Zenovia hung up the phone feeling alarmed. She didn’t need a vision to let her know that whatever Emil had to say it was going to be all bad.

  The telephone startled her when it rang. “Hello.”

  “Hey, Zee!”

  She thought it was Emil calling her back, so she was surprised to hear Tristan’s voice.

  “Oh, hey, Tristan. What’s up?”

  “We haven’t seen you all vacation! I know you’ve been hanging with Emil and all, but can you show your friends a little love?”

  In spite of herself, Zenovia grinned. Even with the impending doom of whatever Emil wanted to meet with her about, she couldn’t help but get a little excited when hearing Tristan’s voice.

  “Well, I have to meet Emil at the mall, but after that I’m free.”

  “How are you getting to the mall?”

  “The bus.”

  “It’s a little chilly to be waiting on a bus. Do you want a ride?”

  Zenovia considered the request. It would probably annoy the heck out of Emil to see Tristan drop her off at the mall. But Zenovia had the sneaky suspicion that she was going to be beyond annoyed after their conversation.

  “Yes, Tristan. I’d love a ride. But you can’t drop me off in front of the food court.”

  Tristan chuckled. “Of course. I don’t want your thug life boyfriend coming after me.”

  “You’re funny, Tristan. And what do you mean thug life? Is Tupac acceptable listening for one of the Brethren elite?”

  “Ha, ha. I still have to take a shower—can I pick you up in forty-five minutes?”

  It would take over an hour for the bus to get her there, so Zenovia replied, “Absolutely. Thanks, Tristan.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Tristan was right on time, and Zenovia went outside to meet him. She didn’t want to give him the opportunity to come inside and chat with Audrey, because she was in one of her moods. Unlike Emil, Tristan didn’t have a safe comfort level with Audrey’s mental illness.

  “What’s up, dude?” Zenovia asked as she got into the car. She was trying to pretend like everything was all good, and that she wasn’t worried about meeting with Emil.

  “What’s up with Zee?” Tristan asked.

  He put an extreme emphasis on the word Zee, like he hadn’t seen her in ages and was just that excited to hear about her life. Zenovia thought it was cute.

  “Hmm… let me see. I’ve picked my school.”

  “Your college? Is it somewhere near Boston?”

  A look of shock came across Zenovia’s face. Tristan played entirely too much. Why would he be asking her such a thing?

  “Um… no, I didn’t apply to any schools in New England. I actually plan on attending Howard University.”

  “Where’s that? Is that an Ivy League school?”

  Zenovia’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding me, right? Howard is a historically black university. It’s in Washington, D.C.”

  “I’m not kidding, but I’m interested in what you’re doing.”

  Zenovia felt completely bizarre about the conversation. “Why do you care so much about my choice of college?”

  “I thought it would be cool if we were near each other. I could serve at the Brethren headquarters, and you could go to class. Then we could hang on the weekends.”

  Zenovia shook her head and looked at Tristan as if he’d lost his mind. “Tristan, I don’t get you.”

  “What?”

  She’d opened the door yet again for him to really say how he felt, but he refused to walk through. It was frustrating because as much as she dug Emil, she didn’t know if there was a future with him. She could envision him with illegitimate children all across America, but she couldn’t see herself being their stepmother.

  But Tristan. He could be her husband when he got done with all of his volunteer work. They could build a little happy Brethren family and have a house with a dog.

  Well… maybe they could’ve had it before she decided to fornicate with Emil. What would he think of her now that she was no longer pure?

  Tristan said, “It just seems like we’re losing you.”

  “We who? Who is losing me?”

  “The Brethren, our crew, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just tripping because Kyle’s gone and my brother is in Boston. You’re my only other friend.”

  Zenovia nodded slowly. This was the closest Tristan had ever come to spilling any emotions over her.

  “What about Mia?” Zenovia tempted fate with her question. “She’s your friend.”

  “Mia? She’s not even a real person! She’s just… I don’t know, but she’s not like you.”

  “What am I like, Tristan?” Zenovia asked, trying to lead him to the water.

  “I mean, you’re passionate about everything! You think about stuff, and you don’t just agree because you should agree.”

  Zenovia bit her lip and sighed. It was those things that Tristan loved about her that made her so wary of the Brethren. Her analytical thinking, her passion, her rebelliousness; all of that was being stolen from her as one of the Brethren.

  “You’re not losing me, Tristan. I’m still your friend.”

  Tristan turned and blessed her with a beautiful smile. “I hope that’s always the case, Zee. I really do.”

  “You’re the only one who can mess it up!”

  “Wow. So can I tell you something… a secret?”

  Zenovia’s eyebrows went all the way up. “A secret? I didn’t know you had secrets.”

  “I do. I do have secrets.”

  “Do tell.”

  “You’re not going to tell anyone are you?”

  Zenovia was immediately serious. “Tristan, I would keep your secrets forever. Even if we’re not friends anymore.”

  “I believe you. So I’m going to tell you. But in pieces, because it’s hard for me to just tell this kind of thing, but I have to tell you.”

  “Okay, now you’ve got me stoked! What is it, for crying out loud?”

  Tristan took a deep breath. “See, it’s hard for me to do this, because I’m not supposed to have these feelings.”

  “Oh, good grief, Tristan! Spill it or zip it!”

  Tristan laughed. “Okay, well, I kind of have a crush on someone.”

  “Do I know her?” Zenovia asked.

  He paused for a moment as if deciding whether or not to continue. “Yes. You know her.”

  “Okay, is she one of the Brethren?”

  “Of course!”


  “Forgive me. I don’t know what I was thinking. Are you going to tell me who?”

  Tristan looked at the ceiling. “Not yet. When I pick you up from the mall. When should I pick you up?”

  They were at the mall entrance and Zenovia was about to explode! She could tell that Tristan was on the verge of professing his love. She knew it!

  But why now? Why after she’d met, fallen for, and given it up to Emil! Why couldn’t he have been up-front from the beginning? Why wasn’t she more patient?

  Why wasn’t she getting out of the car to go meet her boyfriend?

  “Tristan, I’ll page you when I’m ready.”

  “Okay. See you in a bit.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Zenovia was early for her meeting with Emil. She was glad to have the moment to catch her breath and analyze her conversation with Tristan. Because Tristan was completely out of control.

  First of all, what did he mean when he said they were losing her? Perhaps her inner critique of the Brethren was outwardly apparent, although she went through great pains to hide her feelings.

  She switched gears for a moment, to what Emil could want to meet her about. What if he had some kind of disease? She could see that dusty Sienna being the carrier of multiple illnesses. What if he had something that a condom couldn’t protect her from? A shiver went up her spine. She hoped that it was anything but that.

  Well, almost anything.

  She sat at a table in the center of the food court and watched Emil as he walked in the door. He trudged slowly ahead like he was on his way to his execution. Zenovia waved at him and he nodded slightly.

  He sat down in front of Zenovia and the first thing she noted was how tired he looked. His eyes were puffy and red and there were huge dark circles under them. Normally, Emil was always on the verge of a smile, even when he was being serious, but his mouth was down-turned and his expression sullen.

  “What’s wrong, Emil? And don’t say nothing, because it’s written all over your face.”

  Emil sighed. “I don’t even know how to start.”

  “That doesn’t sound good Emil.”

  Zenovia felt her stomach lurch when Emil’s eyes misted.

  He said, “It’s just that this might be our last conversation, so I don’t want to rush into it.”