Hitta's Tea Maker 2

by Edwina Fort

I know!

  Y’all out there wondering what the f**k is wrong with me, right? Well, join the party, ‘cause I’ve been wondering the same thing.

  Something happened to me on that mountain when the Tea Master berated me. For the first time in a long time, I felt vulnerable; I was in the presence of something more powerful than me. And I ain’t gon’ bullsh*t y’all, it scared the hell out of me. Angel don’t know why I’ve been staying at the gym longer and I’m too embarrassed to tell her. When I’m not sure of myself and just need to work some sh*t out in my head, I throw myself into a physical regimen and push my body to exhaustion, making myself stronger, faster.

  But I know that no matter how hard I work or how strong I get, it will never be enough to be able to stand in the presence of that light without feeling inadequate. And now I’d f**ked up and made Angel hate me.

  F**k!!!!

  I had no idea how to make this better. She wasn’t the type that I could drop a chunk of dough on and make her smile again. I wasn’t the type of nigga to do no sappy sh*t like send her a singing telegram or nothing like that to apologize.

  I stared at the house that suddenly looked dull, at a complete loss and scared as sh*t to go in. She was gone. She was gone and I wasn’t ready for what awaited me on the other side of that door. But even as those thoughts traveled through my mind, I knew I’d reached a point where there was nothing left to do but face it. I’d reached a crossroad, and I had to be a f**king man and face the consequences for my actions.

  I wasn’t big on praying, but as I put my key in the door, the only thing I could think was, Please God, don’t let her be gone.

  As soon as I opened the door, the smell of those bomb-ass muffins she'd made for me that time filled my nose, bringing a smile to my face. So maybe I wasn’t in as much trouble as I thought, but then again, maybe she was trying to poison me.

  I heard movement in the kitchen and headed that way. However, when I got there, my steps halted. Sitting at my table was a big black cowboy. I’ve seen this dude before. He was the same cat I saw talking to Lyon a few times, the only man I’d ever seen my teacher afraid of. It wasn’t that he was threatening him or anything, I could just tell that Lyon respected this dude greatly. Plus, when he left the gym one time, Lyon jokingly told the few of us that was there, that the Preacher was probably the only man alive that could kick his ass.

  He lifted his head and looked at me with a pair of eyes that made me feel like I was back up on that mountain.

  “Who are you?” I muttered, even though I knew.

  “Most folks call me the Preacher, but of course, you know that already.” As he spoke, he spooned honey into his tea, giving it a good stirring.

  “Very rarely can I find tea this good. Only Tabby girl can make it like this.”

  “Why you in my kitchen?”

  “I’ve come to have a little chat with you, son.”

  I stepped back into the hallway. I didn’t like the way that sh*t sounded. “Angel! Jess!” I called, taking the stairs up two at a time.

  I needed to lay eyes on her and know that she was okay. When no one answered me and I didn’t see them in their rooms, my heart sped up as the walls began to close around me. I flew back down the steps.

  “Where is Angel?!”

  He didn’t bat an eye at my raised voice. He just lifted his cup and took a sip of his tea, closing his eyes like Angel does to savor it. When he opened them, his ancient gaze pinned me to the spot where I stood.

  “Why don’t you have a seat?”

  I shook my head, about to tell him what I thought about him offering me a seat in my own damn house when suddenly the chair slammed into the back of my legs, forcing me to sit.

  “I insist,” he muttered before taking another sip of his tea. I stared wide-eyed as the chair then slid back toward the table. Trying not to freak the f**k out, I took several deep breaths. This dude just moved the chair with his mind or some sh*t!

  “I remember you now,” he told me leaning closer to study me. “You’re the warrior with the inferiority complex.”

  I frowned at him, wondering what would happen if I decked him. He chuckled.

  “You wouldn’t be the first to have tried, son.” Sitting back in his chair, he gestured to the plate of muffins. “Have one.”

  “Naw,” I grumbled.

  He shrugged reaching for one. “Suit yourself. You’re missing out on some good eating.”

  “Where is Angel?” I didn’t even want to pretend I was happy with him being here. Yeah, I’d seen him before and yeah, a great man that I looked at as a teacher had mad respect for this dude, but I didn’t appreciate him telling me I had a f**king inferiority complex. What the f**k did he know about it?

  “I know that your lack of belief is the reason you’re sitting here alone. There is nothing wrong with being humble, son. In fact, humbleness will carry you a long way. But there is a thin line between humbleness and doubt. At some point, you have to believe that the Ancient of Days knew what he was doing when he chose you.”

  I sucked in my breath sharply. It felt like I’d just gotten punched in the stomach. How did he know that? He’d just vocalized something that I’d been too afraid to even admit to myself.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My pride forced me to say. I didn’t like looking weak in front of no man.

  “Sure, you do. Your lack of belief has always stood in your way your whole life. When Lyon told you who you are, you doubted it. You heard a voice say, This can’t be right. He must have me mistaken for someone else. I ain’t nothing but a hood nigga. When Angel told you she loved you and that she was honored to be your wife, you doubted it. You wanted to hurry and get married because you feared she would look and see who she really married.”

  He leaned in closer. “When you realized that you’d been given a gift, you doubted it. You actually felt that the Heavenly Father had made a mistake. What nonsense…”

  I folded my hands to keep from tapping them on the table, revealing to this stranger how much his words were affecting me. That was exactly what I said to myself the day Lyon told me I was destined to become this great warrior. And yes, I had doubted that Angel could ever really truly love me and could be a gift just for me.

  “Foolishly, you thought that doubting voice that you heard was your own,” he continued before he picked up his teacup taking another sip. “You’ve always taken comfort in that voice that convinced you that you were nothing but a nigga, not seeing it for the enemy that it is. Do you know why?”

  I didn’t answer him. Between the pounding in my head and heart, and his words that were cutting through my flesh down to my bone, I felt f**king paralyzed.

  He chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you why anyway. You took comfort in it because being a nigga came easy. Your fear of trying to become the warrior you were meant to be and failing has held you in bondage. But because you can’t contain the fighter in you, you thought to find your escape through boxing, but that wasn’t the Ancient of Days’ will for you. This is why you have the headaches and it’s why you’re going to continue to have the headaches until you answer your call, son.”

  My fingers began to tap on the table. I wanted to tell him to shut up, to just stop… But then, he turned to look at me, once again pinning me to the spot with that gaze that saw too much.

  “Do you believe that the voice you’re hearing right now is your own?”

  I lifted an eyebrow at him. “You mean the voice in my head?”

  He chuckled. “Yes, the voice in your head, the one that’s telling you not to listen to me. Do you think that is your own voice?”

  “Yeah, it’s in my head, ain’t it?”

  “Well, tell me this. Is it the same voice that was in your head when you told your wife you were not going to change for her?”

  His question threw me. Yeah, it was the same voice and it’s one of the things that I said but regretted. I don’t know why I said that dumb sh*t in the first place.


  “Because that voice that sounds so much like your own is actually your enemy. Its job is to continue to keep you doubting yourself because it knows the day you realize your value, accept who you are and what you’ve been put here to do, is the day it has to slither back to its master and tell him it failed in its mission.”

  “What mission?”

  “The mission to keep you believing you are nothing but a nigga and cause you to doubt every time someone tells you that you’re so much more. But at last…it’s caused you to lose your wife. You couldn’t see in yourself what she always saw in you.”

  I clutched my head. I’d felt the headache coming on earlier, but now it was growing worse. The way the pressure was building behind my eyes told me that this was going to be a bad one. I needed Angel.

  “Please… tell me where she is.” My plea was quiet, but he heard.

  “If you go after her now, she will hate you forever.”

  I put my head down on the table, needing to close my eyes. “What you want me to do? Just give up? I ain’t got it in me.” I didn’t care that I was growling my words like a f**king animal. I felt like I was dying and even still, I knew with my whole heart and soul that his words were true. If I went after Angel and forced her to come back to me, she would only hate me for it.

  I clutched my head, wanting to break some sh*t. I’d messed up and I didn’t know how to fix it.

  “Why don’t you start by fixing yourself.”

  “How?” I asked without lifting my head that was now beginning to feel like it was going to explode.

  “You know what you have to do… Answer your call, son.”

  I groaned as the pressure in my head got worse. This man talked in a bunch of riddles. What call? No quicker had the thought came to my mind, the answer followed and with it, what felt like a release valve of the pressure in my dome.

  The Lyon’s Den

  I lifted my head to ask him if that was the answer, but he was gone. The only thing that suggested he had been there at all was his empty plate and teacup.

  Angel

  “Ima! What?! You’re knocking on doors now?” A very handsome older gentleman said as he opened the door, stepping to the side so that we could enter his beautiful home.

  I tried to look everywhere else but at him. He was standing there shirtless in only a pair of sweatpants. And for an older guy, he was ripped.

  “Go on now!” Greatie said swatting at him. “Put you a shirt on. This here chile a married woman. She don’t need to be seeing yo’ goodies.”

  He chuckled as he headed for the stairs, taking them up two at a time. “Ima’s here!” he yelled.

  There was maybe a two-second pause before what sounded like a stampede could be heard overhead.

  “Watch this,” Greatie muttered, just as--

  “Ima!”

  “Ima, hey!”

  “Ima, I got to show you my stitches!”

  The kitchen door opened and two children that had to be eight or nine ran from it. Three little boys who all looked to be between the ages of 4 and 6 came running down the stairs and what looked like a sixteen-year-old boy came up from the basement. They all rushed Greatie, trying to hug her all at once.

  She chuckled as she accepted all the love the children bestowed on her. It was hard not to share in their joy.

  “We haven’t seen you in a long time,” a beautiful little girl said who had to be Jessie’s age, if not a little older.

  “Who’s this?” her brother asked, coming to a stop in front of Jessie. He looked to be about a year older than the little girl.

  “My name Jessica.”

  I looked down surprised at my niece. This is the first time I ever heard her tell someone her full name. The little boy held out his hand for her to shake.

  “My name YermiYah,” he told her.

  Greatie smiled down at them and then looked at me and winked.

  “Come on now, let Ima get through the door,” said a very pregnant, beautiful older woman, who looked as if she could be related to Greatie and me as she waddled down the stairs, holding her lower back. I studied her closely because she looked familiar. I’d seen her before, but I just couldn’t remember where.

  “Hey, Ima…” she huffed when she finally made it to us, leaning in to hug Greatie.

  “Hey, baby. I brought you another pair of hands to help out around here for a little while, at least till after you have the baby. This is one of my daughters just like you. I want you guys to take care of each other.” The woman’s gaze fell on me and she smiled warmly and I saw it. Although she was of a lighter shade than Greatie and me, she definitely favored me enough to be my sister.

  “Welcome to our home, little sis!” she gushed, holding out her hands for me. “Noach! Come meet our cousin!” she yelled before pulling me into a hug that surprised me because it was so—so….

  Goodness! I was getting ready to cry again. She felt like a blood sister. And as if my arms had a mind of their own, I held her just a little tighter. Surprisingly, she returned the embrace. I wondered if she knew how much I needed the affection.

  “I’m so glad you’re here, kot. As you can see, I have my hands full around here. The baby is due any day now and I can really use all the help I can get. These children are driving me crazy.”

  Trying to fight back my tears, I nodded. “I will be happy to help.”

  “We’re going to spend the night here?!” Jessie asked excitedly.

  “Absolutely!” The man who I was sure was Noach, answered as he jogged down the stairs now sporting a t-shirt over that very muscled chest of his.

  “You guys are family; you can stay as long as you want. We have more than enough room,” he continued as he walked toward me and opened his arms. “Shalom, little sista! Welcome to our home.”

  Unsure of whether or not I should hug him, my gaze went to his beautiful wife. She nodded with a kind smile on her face, nudging me forward a bit. His embrace felt like that of a brother, I could feel their welcome and it was going to be my undoing. I don’t know how Greatie knew that this was what I needed, but this was what I needed. I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts. This house was so busy, it was the perfect distraction.

  “Okay, let me introduce you guys to the posse,” Noach said, gesturing for the children to line up. He had a big booming voice, the kind of voice that was perfect for giving speeches or lectures. “Starting from the oldest to the youngest. As you know, my name is Noach Hathaway. This is my lovely wife of seventeen wonderful years, Brooklyn.” She cheesed, pleased with his compliment. And I knew right off that they were a happy couple.

  “Our oldest is Eliyah.” The teenage boy held up his hand in a wave

  “Next to him at 10 is YermiYah.” The little fella that had greeted Jessie waved.

  “Next to him at 8 is daddy’s little princess, Lyric.” Poor baby, she was the only girl.

  “And these three knuckleheads,” he said grabbing the three youngest boys, bundling them all together, causing them to erupt in giggles.

  “Is Joshua, whose 6, James 5, and John, who’s the family terror coming in at 4.”

  “Wow! You guys have quite the team here,” I told them, amazed that poor Brooklyn was still standing here in one piece.

  I placed my hands on Jessie’s shoulders. “This is my niece, Jessica, and my name’s Angel. It’s a pleasure to meet you guys.”

  “It looks like you’re expecting a new member to your team too,” Brooklyn said gesturing toward my stomach.

  Greatie chuckled. “Yes, she is. And I figured you can give her some pointers.”

  “I sure will. As you can see, I’m a pro. Come on, let me show you guys to your room.” The children all surrounded us, excited that we were going to be staying with them for a little while. They all talked and asked questions at once. Their energy was amazing. As they bustled us up the stairs, I looked back at Greatie where she still stood by the door.

  Thank you… I mouthed to her. With a gentle smile on her face, s
he nodded.

  Jessie and I got unpacked and settled into the guest bedroom, then we made our way down to dinner. Let me tell you guys something about eating at the Hathaway’s table. It was quite the experience; I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much. Between Noach’s crazy stories and the children, who all competed with the other to tell the funniest joke, it was the perfect distraction. I didn’t think about my husband or my brother once.

  But goodness, by the time Noach, Brooklyn, and I got the kitchen cleaned and all the children bedded down, we were beat. She and I sat in her sewing room in front of a nice fire, just unwinding.

  “How in the world do you do this every night?”

  She chuckled from where she sat in front of the most beautiful sewing machine I’d ever seen.

  “By the mercy of the Heavenly Father. I do this every night, morning, and afternoon. Noach drives a truck and sometimes he’s gone several days at a time, which leaves me by myself doing this.”

  “Oh my goodness… You are a super mom.”

  “Whew, I wish. Poor Noach has had to talk me down from the edge many of days. Eliyah’s a lot of help and Lyric. Believe it or not, there is nothing she likes doing more than bossing around her brothers. If she could, she’d even boss around Eliyah.”

  As she spoke, she threaded the machine and picked up on whatever it was she was sewing before we came. I’d truly never seen anything like it. It was definitely an antique, but not your everyday average antique. It looked like it may at one time belonged to royalty or something. It seemed to be made of pure copper with beautiful swirls that looked a lot like vines carved into it.

  “That is a beautiful machine,” I told her, mesmerized at watching her graceful hand weave the string while pushing her garment through. She was an artist.

  “Thank you. I found it in this very room when I first came here. Back then, this old house was barely standing. Noach had been given the property when he was released from prison and he hired me to help him fix it up. That’s how we ended up dating.”

  “I don’t know what it was about this room, but I was drawn to it. Everything was very old and covered in a layer of dust so thick I nearly coughed up a lung as I began cleaning it. And then over there,” she pointed to the corner by the beautiful bay window, “buried under a pile of old ratty sheets was this beauty. I couldn’t believe my find. They haven’t made a sewing machine like this since the early 1800s.” Her gaze came to mine. “Guess who I found out was the owner of this machine and this house.”