by Atieno Mzuri
But before he left, he was looking at me strangely and I asked him what was wrong. He asked me if I knew that I was living with a registered sex offender and what was my relationship with him. I said I was his fiancé. The shock I got I can't explain in words. I said I wasn't aware and he told me I should tread carefully.”
“Did he say anything else, this policeman?”
“Yes, he told me that I had done nothing wrong but I should be very careful. My curiosity was killing me so I insisted on knowing what Matt had done and how he came to be a registered sex offender.”
A short pause followed. I sipped some water from the bottle on the side table. Then I heard some noise on the stairs and thinking that Matt had returned, I quickly ran to the window and looked down at the parking lot. Matt's car was not there.
“This man, my sista, is dangerous.”
“Whom did he rape?” I asked fearfully.
“His brother's child. She was in her room doing her homework and he pounced on her. Her parents were over at the jewelry store. You have met his brother Jack?”
“Yes I have.”
“Well he raped that 16 year old child and gagged her with a curtain as she tried to scream. She was not taken to hospital. She stayed home and a private doctor came to treat her. Afterwards, after one week had passed, Jack took a gun and drove to Matt's house and wanted to kill him but he had already run away. When he finally came back after one year the family had got together and decided not to press charges. That's really what upset Jack's wife and she filed for divorce and took half of what Jack owned and moved to Montana with her daughter.”
“So was that the end?” I asked as I went back to the window and glanced at the curb. Still no car but I was shivering in the house which was so cold right now. Outside the sun was shining brightly.
“Unfortunately for Matt, there was the small matter of the little girl.” she continued. “The 9 year old girl that lived in the same apartment complex. I am not sure if he raped her because the policeman wouldn't say much. He just mentioned it in passing and told me to worry about my life and that I was taking a risk and I might be found dead one day.”
“So did you ask Matt about it?”
“Oh my sista, who asks a lion what it wants to eat? Not me. I didn't ask Matt. I was already so scared, I was plotting how to get out of there. I was biding my time from the right moment. Instead I began listening more carefully to conversations that he had with people. When he spoke with his brother I listened, when he spoke with his mother I listened keenly. And the tobacco seller, that one over on Bridgewood, his friend. You should listen.”
“How did you finally get out?” I asked.
“My sister and brother managed to take loans, I opened up to my sister and told her the trouble that I was in. With the loans, they registered me in college and we made sure it was in a faraway state because Matt can't travel. Once I was registered, my visa was renewed for five years. They booked me on a flight out of there. One day when Matt had gone to work, they came for me. I waited at the airport for a whole day and then got onto the flight. And so I am here now, very comfortable.”
“So you didn't borrow money from Matt?” I asked.
She laughed. She had a laugh that made me want to laugh back. I could see why Matt had loved her.
“No.” she said. “Matt's job wasn't paying that well. He has never even saved $500. Where would he get $10,000? Think about it. Because you are my sista from Africa, I will just advise you to get out of there, as fast as you can. Your life is in danger. It's up to you to believe it or not. That's all I can say to you. Your life is in great danger. Let me give you my sister's number, she might be able to help you. I will tell her about you.”
With heavy feet, I walked across to the kitchen countertop and picked up a pen and wrote the number that she was offering.
Wahala hung up the phone after giving me her sister's number and wishing me luck. After hearing her story I knew that I would need my wits and a lot of cunning to get myself out of the lion's mouth.
Since she had told me exactly how she had managed to get away, I thought I would use the same method. No use reinventing the wheel, the wise ones have always maintained.
I was thinking of which State I would go. Then I remembered two of my mum's cousins. One was in Maryland and the other was in Alaska. I didn't care for Alaska because they have nights that run into 24 hours during the winter. Something to do with their placement on the earth. I tried to imagine life without the sun, complete darkness for three months and it was just depressing.
But I quickly realized I was being petty when I called my mum's cousin in Maryland and was tersely informed by the answering service that the phone number I had called would not be operational for the next two months. Meaning he had suspended the services and was probably traveling out of the country.
I dialed the Alaska number. She picked up on the second ring. Without going into details I told her I needed a place to stay for two months. She didn't ask any questions. Obviously a woman who had seen a lot of desperation.
"Sure, my niece. You can come any time. I will cancel the babysitting services and I can pay you some of that money. "
I sent up a silent prayer of thanks.
She asked if I had any money for the bus. I told her I didn't. She said she would book for me the Greyhound whenever I was ready, even if it was the next day.
With my plans now firmly in place and having decided i would carry the least luggage possible, a few underpants, maybe two pairs of jeans and a few t-shirts, I decided to put these together so I could get out at a moment's notice. I went into the bedroom and flung open the closet. The first thing I shouldn't forget was of course my travel documents that's my passport, my vaccinations certificates and my educational papers. I opened the drawer where I had kept them last week.
The drawer was empty. Completely empty save for a packet of cigarettes. I frantically began to tear down the house looking for them while trying to maintain order. Matt would be home anytime. Half an hour of looking under every nook and cranny merely confirmed my fears that Matt had moved them.
I got out from under the bed and was startled to find Matt staring at me. I wasn't sure how long he had been standing there.
"Are you looking for something? " he asked.
"Nope. Just arranging the shoe boxes under the bed. Long overdue.
I was surprised that my voice was so calm. The calm before the storm.
"You forgot your phone on the table and it was ringing as I walked in, so I picked it up to bring to you. Whoever it was rang off"
"Thanks. " I said as I stretched out my hand for the phone.
"Any interesting phone calls today? "
I looked up and met the sly look on his face. He smiled. I could see he was baiting me. He had obviously gone through the phone.
I could have slapped myself right at that moment. I had saved Wahala's number and her sister's number too. I hadn't used their names but Matt has a photographic memory. I knew I was in trouble. Everything was happening as Wahala had described. I felt a chill in my bones.
"You Africans tend to stick together, don't you?"
"What do you mean?"
"I will tell you what I mean," he said as he stepped forward and swung at me. I saw his hand too late. As it landed on my face, I heard a loud crack and my first thought was that all my teeth were broken and I couldn't afford a dentist.
Then he sat down by my side on the bed. I was gingerly massaging my face trying to make a layman's assessment of whether anything was broken.
“I didn't know how to tell you. I swear to God, I meant to bring it up every single day we have been together. I just didn't know how.” he said as he wiped the tears from his cheeks.
And I sat there looking incredulously at this grown man in his late 40s crying silently and begging me to stay and not to walk away because I was his best friend in the world and I was all he had and if I walked away his entire world would collapse, I couldn't he
lp but feel a little detached. Much like a stranger observing the scene from outside one's body.
Several days passed. We didn't talk much. He stayed a lot by my side. He cooked, cleaned and took care of my needs like nothing major had passed. The few hours he was out of the apartment, I used for looking for my documents. I still hadn't found them.
And every evening he asked me what I was thinking. And he begged me not to give up on him.
We had been going through this same scenario for the last two days, using much the same words and always ending up at the same conclusion. A nondecision on whether to move on or to stay in limbo in an untenable situation
“Well, you know I can't marry you now.” I said.
“But why? What changed? I am the same person that you said you loved last week. Nothing has changed. I love you.” he whispered in desperation.
But a lot of things had changed. There was no turning around.
“We can still get married.”
“No, we can't. Please let me go.”
“But you don't understand, I love you more than I loved Tsitsi.”
“Stop lying to me Matt. The problem with you is just don't know when to stop. Every minute you come up with a new lie. How can I ever know when you are telling the truth? How can I even trust you if you don't tell me the truth upfront? With you it is one lie after the other. And then you try to cover up the lie with another. And when I discover, you add another. Lies, lies. I am so tired of these lies.”
“I am not lying. I have told you all that there is to know. I swear on my mother's grave that everything I told you is the truth.”
Matt and I were at the public park at Riversdale. The apartment had suddenly become too tiny for the two of us and we found ourselves constantly at the park. I would try to go to the park on my own so that I could sit and breath and just think about what to do but each time, Matt followed me. I think he was scared that I was making plans to leave the apartment and the wretchedness that he had cast us into. The apartment was gloomy and an unhappy atmosphere pervaded the little space.
Last week, Matt and I had gone over what he told me were the missing pieces that he had neglected to tell me. And which I had inadvertently stumbled upon. How could he have thought that I finally wouldn't know?
I thought of the seriousness of the crime that Matt had committed. Being a sexual offender had serious consequences. For example, he had to be registered as a sexual offender which some judge somewhere had once wittingly called a “modern-day scarlet letter”. The same judge had said that “A person who is required to register as a sex offender is subject to numerous burdens, including registration with local law enforcement for at least ten years, notifying law enforcement of any change of address, posting the offender’s name, address, and photo on the sex offender website, as well as notice to the community.” The judge had concluded that the sex offender label, unlike the mere conviction of a misdemeanor, “changes the offender’s status and acceptance in society” and such sex offender status is “life-altering.”
As I sat there at that park on that warm balmy afternoon, events that had seemed out of place began to make sense. Before our trip to Wisconsin to buy the dildo, I remembered him telling me that he had had to ask his brother for permission to take the car across the state borders. Now it occurred to me that Matt had been talking to his Probation Officer to get his permission. There had never been any brother involved.
When we had gone to see his brother at the jewelry store, the looks from his brother and staff were wary because Matt had stolen from the store at one time. They hadn't reported him because he was family. But he, Matt, had told me not to worry about finances because his father and mother had started the jewelry store and it was run by the one brother but profits were shared equally between all the siblings. There was no such arrangement in place. Matt helped himself to a ring every once in a while and sold it on the black market.
To think that this was the same brother who was busy trying to help him get a job so he wouldn't need to dip. Perhaps one day he would be truly exhausted and just haul him off to jail.
Obviously I would have to leave. But how? Chapter Twelve (Matt Gives Ultimatums)
What is love? I have always questioned myself. Fortunately I am not alone in seeking answers on what love is. From time immemorial man has always sought to define this feeling, nay, an obsession that we call love. The definition that works for me is the one given by Captain Correlli in Mandolin.
He says: When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots are become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the desire to mate every second of the day. It is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body. No... don’t blush! I am telling you some truths. For that is just being in love; which any of us can convince ourselves we are. LOVE ITSELF IS WHAT IS LEFT OVER. WHEN BEING IN LOVE HAS BURNED AWAY...
Why am I defining love as I understand and feel it? I am trying to explain to you and myself, Matt's obsession with me. After I had found out about his scandalous past, he had continued to deny that he had ever done anything wrong. And he continued his protestations of his love for me. And I was feeling suffocated and I wanted to get out of that apartment and begin a new life without him. When he touched me, and somehow it had now become more frequent, I pushed him away physically and barred him from my mind emotionally.
What I needed to do next was as clear as night and day. I couldn't afford to be with a felon. Not just any felon, but a sexual offender.
The previous week I had gotten hold of Wahala's email and had written to her and she had instantly replied and gave me her number and I had called her and she had told me that for my own good I should run away as soon as I could. She had told me how she had tricked Matt into taking her to the airport and had disappeared so that he would never find her again.
“My sister oooh...” amid a jargon of pidgin she had told me how she had met Matt in church, the same church where I had met him and she had instantly been captivated. But then like me, she had begun noticing several lies, things that didn't quite fit and then suddenly one day she had stumbled on the big secret when the probation officer had come to the apartment because Matt had failed to turn up for one of his weekly counseling sessions. She had then gone behind his back and interviewed several people who had told her exactly what he did. “My sister oooh, you can either leave now or you can wait to find out.” she ended our conversation.
But back to the moment. Matt and I were sitting in the apartment and he was smoking his weed and I was watching TV and trying my best to remain sane as I planned my escape. I was trying to keep to our routine as best as I could under the circumstances.
“I didn't do it.” Matt kept telling me. “Why won't you believe me? I gave you the benefit of the doubt when nobody else would trust you. I agreed to give you my name and give you what you desire most.”
“And what's that I desire?” I asked.
“Citizenship.” he said.
I gasped. And was silent as I pondered this. How
had Matt known that one of the reasons why I had really wanted to marry him was so that I could get my citizenship?
I continued staring at the carpet. Studying the stars and circles on it. Wondering what the designer had been thinking to create such a mishmash. I knew it was supposed to be cool. But I had never understood cool. The new cool was just too weird.
Anyway, I was stalling for time so that I could think of a suitable reply as I thought of a new game plan. To say the truth, shocked is an understatement of how I felt at that moment. I could feel the goosebumps on my arms. How had Matt known this? What else did he know about me?
I looked up and found him staring at me intently. With a small smile, hardly reaching his eye
s as it always did. His eyes had grown smaller. How had I never seen this mean look before?
“You remember when you first moved in? I looked through all your stuff. I didn't know whether to trust you.”
“You didn't know whether to trust me?” I laughed. “Look who's talking. You are a known felon. I am an innocent woman. And you are daring to say that you couldn't trust me?’
“Well yeah!” he responded. “And you know what I found?”
My knees were shaking, I thought he could hear them from across the room as they knocked together, but I managed to steady them.
“Isn't your visa expired? You are now here illegally, aren't you?” he asked.
I didn't respond. I was playing for time. Giving him silence so that he would tell me exactly how much he knew about me that I hadn’t told him myself.
“Oh you are not so talkative now, are you?” he jeered. “That's what I thought!! Well here's what we are going to do, Miss Thang!”
I waited with bated breath to hear his demand. I thought of the worst that could happen. He would hand me over to Homeland Security and before I knew it, I would be on my way back home. Sent away. Disgraced. Probably in those awful foot chains, and my hands cuffed behind me. The only time my hands had ever been cuffed was one time when I was playing a silly erotic game with an ex-boyfriend, and he had tied me up, and I had been yelling, oh please give it to me, oh Mr. Cop, you are such a bad policeman, and my boyfriend had been slapping my butt as he slammed into me and I was yelling, please forgive me, don't take me to jail, big bad cop, you are my daddy now...
I smiled at the memory, and the smile went away when I met Matt's cold eyes...
