by Mark Anthony
Andrea then started to pour the pancake batter into the skillet and she said to me, “So if you don’t mind me asking, have you been with a woman before?”
Instantly my heart started racing with anxiety. I wasn’t exactly sure how I should answer her. I paused and in my mind I was like, what the hell, just answer the damn question truthfully.
“Yeah,” I said and then I sort of mentally braced myself to get attacked and judged by her.
“I bet you never told anybody that, right?”
“No,” I said with a nervous smile. My anxiety was beginning to lighten.
“Girl, it’s okay,” Andrea said in response to my nervous smile.
Andrea flipped the pancakes and then there was more silence as she checked on the bacon that she was frying.
My heart really started to race and I got really nervous and anxious as I contemplated should I tell her about Joyce, my nanny from back in the days, who had introduced me to sex.
I buried my hands into my face and pressed my hands against my face as if I was trying to literally bury my face into my hands. I visibly exhaled air from my lungs before I started to speak.
“You know something that I never, ever told anybody?” I said to her. I felt like crying from the thought of just thinking that I was about to divulge information that I had held inside for more than nine years.
“What’s that?”
“Well, when I was young, like nine years old, we had this live-in nanny named Joyce. Joyce was the first person who introduced me to sex and I had my first sexual experience with a woman.”
Andrea didn’t say anything and her silence made me more nervous and more anxious so I just began to speak before she had a chance to speak up and condemn me.
“Yeah, she introduced me to porno movies and vibrators and all of that. She even let her boyfriends have sex with me.”
“Wow, Shayla! You never said anything to anyone about this? Not even your dad?”
I shook my head from side to side and I didn’t say anything.
“Shayla, do you know what incest is?”
I shook my head no.
Andrea then went on to explain to me what it was and she opened up and told me how her own father had sexually molested her starting when she was twelve years old.
“So that’s how I got introduced to sex.”
The kitchen got really quiet as the food was ready and Andrea placed everything on the table so that we could start eating.
The next thing I know is that it was six o’clock in the evening. I was still in my robe and Andrea and I were still at the kitchen table talking. Five hours had gone by but in those five hours I had became an open book and I unlocked the doors to the mental prison that I had been in.
I told Andrea everything about me—every—thing.
I told her all about my dad, the nannies, my Aunt Tanisha, the underground sex parties, the abortions, my cousin raping me, my independent one-girl call-girl service, the drinking, the masturbating, my porno collection and sex toy collection, Pink Chocolate, the two hundred and some odd thousand dollars that I had blown, and my fake friends and how I allowed them to use me. All throughout my talking I was able to maintain my composure, but when I began to talk about my mom, I just couldn’t control my emotions.
I had saved talking about her ’til toward the end of the conversation that we were having because I knew that too many raw emotions would come out. I told Andrea about how my mom had came back to visit me one night, and after I said that, my tears just started falling and they wouldn’t stop.
“Andrea, I just feel like everything that happened to me in my life wouldn’t have happened to me if my mom had been with me. I can’t help it, but I get so angry at her and at God for her not being there for me,” I said through my tears.
Andrea hugged me.
“I understand, baby. It’s not fair, it’s not right, and it hurts. It’s painful and I know that it hurts so much because you love your mom dearly.”
I nodded my head up and down.
“I do. But it’s like I just can’t figure out why I had to be the one to grow up without a mom. I hated that all my life and I resent it even to this day!”
“Shayla, it’s not fair. You deserved to have your mom with you while you grew up. And you have a right to be angry. But you know something? Your mom loved you and she still loves you more than you would ever know. It’s easy to get angry at her but even through your anger I want you to think about this. Number one, think about how many people lose loved ones who weren’t smart enough to take out an insurance policy on themselves. That didn’t happen with your mom because she loved you enough to think about your well-being in the event of her untimely absence. Number two, think about how profound it was for your mom to look ahead and structure the insurance payments the way she did. She let you get half of your money when you turned eighteen and she is letting you get the other half at twenty-one. I bet that she did that because she knew that even if she wasn’t around that you would still have to be your own person. You would have to fall on your own and get back up and face life as your own individual self with the cards that life dealt you. Your mom knew that you probably wouldn’t be prepared to have that kind of money at that age. And you know what? It’s okay that you weren’t ready for that kind of money because you’re human and life goes on. But guess what, when you get your next check at twenty-one, think about how much wiser you’re gonna be with that money and how it will enhance your life instead of hindering it. And you have only your mom to thank for that.”
I wiped my tears and I thought about what Andrea had said and how right she was.
“All of those things that your mom told you when she visited you ... girl, your mom may not be with you physically but trust me, she is with you every day. Her spirit is still alive and the best thing is that you can talk to her 24–7 and get advice and answers from her by just listening to your spirit, because part of her will forever be in you.”
“You’re right,” I said.
I knew that this conversation that Andrea and I were having would forever change me. I would have to later go back and reflect on all of the things that she said to me, but inside I felt very funny because I knew that there was still something that I was holding back.
Andrea and I were both silent until I broke the silence.
“Andrea, I appreciate you being here for me like this. You just don’t know what it means. But ... um ... I know you’re gonna be upset with me with what I’m about to tell you. And if you are and if you decide to put distance between us, I’ll understand and I’ll still be grateful for you.”
“Girl, what nonsense are you talking?” Andrea asked me.
I shook my head and I just went for it. “Well, with my rape and all. Remember how I told you I was working at the Pink Chocolate strip club as a bartender?”
“Yeah.”
I sighed and said, “Well, the night that I got raped, what really happened was these guys had paid me three hundred dollars to have sex with both of them and I took the money but I changed my mind. Instead of giving them the money back I got nervous and scared and I tried to just leave the club and bounce on them without giving them their money back. But they was hip to me and they caught me at my car and put me in their truck and drove off with me and raped me.”
Andrea was silent in her thoughts. I could just tell that she was heated and getting ready to let me have it.
She blew air out of her lungs and then she calmly asked me, “so you did get raped, though, right?”
“Yes, without a doubt. I would tell you now if I was lying. The thing was, I just lied to the cops because I didn’t want anyone to know that I had been coming from Pink Chocolate, because then no one would have believed me and aside from that everyone would have just labeled me as a ho. Plus, I was too young to have been working in there and that would have brought on all kinds of heat for the strip club, which would have made things worse for me in the long run.”
“So, what about Tara�
�s story and her picking out the same suspect that you did?”
I told Andrea how I had paid Tara the fifteen thousand dollars and how we got our story together in order to not say anything that would conflict.
Andrea bit on her bottom lip. She didn’t look me in my face. She just sat and thought to herself. I remained silent.
“Tell me this. The guy that you picked out of the mug shots and out of the lineup, are you certain without a shadow of a doubt that that is the guy who raped you?”
“Absolutely,” I said without hesitation. I went on to tell Andrea how the guy who raped me was the same guy from years ago who had paid me at the underground sex party, but he hadn’t sexed me and he felt like I was playing him for a second time in the same way.
“Shayla, are you sure for sure that he’s the guy?”
“Andrea, I am positive. I wouldn’t lie about that and I would definitely tell you now if I was lying.”
“Okay, I appreciate your honesty,” Andrea said as she blew out a mountain of air from her lungs before continuing on.
“Now, here’s the thing. We can still get a conviction but it’s gonna be tough because now your credibility is gonna be questioned to no end. The thing is that the suspect was still in Manhattan on the night that you were raped and the chances on his rare blood type matching the semen stain is such a slam-dunk that it should be enough to overcome the credibility thing. I just can’t guarantee it because the jury may think if you lied about that, then you could be lying about the whole thing.”
“Well, why don’t we just not say anything?” I asked.
“Can’t do that,” Andrea said while shaking her head. “Always tell the truth no matter what. Shayla, most of your life you have been lying either directly or indirectly to keep your past a secret. I was the same way, but if you wanna live life on another level and live life to the fullest, you gotta tell the truth all the time no matter what.”
Andrea then went on to explain that the biggest hurdle would be overcoming the grand jury testimonies that Tara and I had given because it would be considered perjury and that is a crime. She assured me that she would be able to have us state the truth and still get around the perjury issue. She just felt that with the trial only eight months away that it would be better to get things out in the open now as opposed to later.
From that point on, as Andrea and I talked, I could tell that her mind wasn’t as focused on me. It was like the wheels in her head were turning and probably thinking about my rape case.
However, I felt safe that I wouldn’t lose Andrea as a friend. In fact, before she left my apartment, as she was standing in my doorway and ready to go, she cemented in my mind that she was true and genuine and would be there for me with no ulterior motive.
“Shayla, you know why that rape occurred?”
I was kind of confused by what she was asking me.
“My rape?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Well, what I’m trying to say is that I believe in my heart that the reason that you were raped was so that our paths could cross and I could be there for you.”
“You really think so?” I said. I was feeling so esteemed, like I really mattered to her. I felt my eyes beginning to water up.
I reached out and just hugged her.
“Thank you, Andrea,” I said as tears rolled down my cheeks.
It was now about seven-thirty and although Andrea had been at my house for hours, it felt like time had flown by. I didn’t want her to go.
As I continued to hug her, I said through my tears, “Andrea, would you mind if I call you Mom from now on?”
Andrea pushed back from me slightly so that she could look at me and she had the biggest smile on her face.
“Of course you can,” she said as she wiped away tears from the left side of my face.
“But only if you make me some small promises.”
“Anything,” I said.
“Promise me that you’re gonna learn to forgive and let go. And where only God can provide justice, you will learn to still forgive and let go and be cool with that.”
“Deal,” I replied.
“And there’s gonna come a time when someone crosses your path and they’re gonna need you to be there for them and help them unconditionally like I want to do for you. Just promise me that if and when that happens that you’ll not only be alert to their situation and their needs, but you’ll respond and do whatever it takes to make a difference in their life.”
I nodded my head up and down and said, “Mom, you ain’t say nothing but a word. Consider it done.”
With that, Andrea and I embraced one more time before she departed. I had such euphoria running through my body that I went back into my apartment, turned on my radio and just blasted music. As the music blasted I danced around like an absolute fool. I had the biggest and best party that I had ever had. I was the only person at the party, but it was all good. I didn’t need to party with anyone but myself.
I danced and celebrated my new freedom. I had just been released from that mental prison that I had been in for years. And man, there is no other feeling in the world that can compare to freedom.
I was ready to move into a new phase of my life. I couldn’t wait because now I had one of the baddest, smartest, prettiest moms to help me navigate my way through life.
Part III
The Adult Years
Chapter Twenty-three
The Witness Stand
Between the first of the year and August of 1992 a lot had transpired in my life. Aside from preparing me for my rape trial, Andrea and I had continued to develop a strong bond and she treated me as if I really was her daughter. I hung out a lot with her biological daughter and for the first time in my life I started to see what genuine friendship was all about.
Also during that time Andrea had pulled some strings for me to get a trainee position at a brokerage firm on Wall Street. I had been working at the brokerage firm since February 1992. I loved every minute of it and I loved the money that I made while working there.
In the midst of everything she continually urged and encouraged me to go to college. With her urging and my knowing that going to college would also please my real mom, I applied to about ten different colleges. Surprisingly, I was accepted to each and every college that I had applied to. More importantly, I had been accepted to Howard University, which was the school that I desperately wanted to attend.
Although I had many positive things that were happening and my world was finally moving away from all of the dysfunction it had known, I had to deal with the reality of my rape case going to trial, which of course meant that I would have to testify on the witness stand, something that I was not looking forward to doing.
The trial began on the first Monday in August. What was so sad and probably made me feel worse than getting raped was the fact that my father never showed up to the courtroom to support me. I had called him and left messages for him but he never responded to me. I had even unsuccessfully tried to make physical contact with him prior to the start of the trial to let him know that I would be attending Howard University, but I could never catch him at home.
Thankfully, though, my Aunt Tanisha was there for me and she was at the courtroom sitting in the first row day in and day out. She and I would talk before and after proceedings and during breaks. Aunt Tanisha always found a way to say the right things to me at the right times. She was one of my biggest anchors and I needed her more than ever, especially when I took the stand to testify on my own behalf.
However, prior to my testimony, Tara had taken the stand to testify against me.
Yeah, Tara really had no choice but to testify against me because the deal that Andrea’s office had worked out to the liking of Antonio Reid’s lawyer was that Tara would not have to worry about facing any criminal perjury charges so long as she was fully willing to participate as a witness for the defense. I, on the other hand, was able to avoid perju
ry charges because Andrea had worked it out where in exchange for not prosecuting me on that charge, the charge of aggravated assault would be dropped from the indictment against Antonio Reid.
Well, day one of the trial was spent with opening arguments from the defense and from the prosecution. The witnesses that were called to the witness stand were the cops, detectives, paramedics, and doctors.
But on day two, Tara was the first witness called to the stand. I hadn’t spoken to or seen Tara since December of 1991 and it was now August 1992. Tara looked good; she looked like she had slimmed down a bit, but that might have been because of the way that she was dressed. She had on a business suit that made her look like a Goody-Two-Shoes bank teller. She had cut her hair really short and had the Halle Berry short hair look. Tara casually walked to the witness stand. Her signature high heel shoes were notably absent from her feet. She wore a pair of plain black leather flat shoes.
Instinctively I smiled when I saw her and how good she looked. It was instinctive, because I had known her since I was in the ninth grade. Although I had purposely kept away from her in the eight months that preceded the trial, I still had a level of love for her.
After Tara had raised her hand and swore on the Bible to tell the truth and nothing but the truth, she looked square in my direction. I visibly smiled at her and on the inside I was hoping like hell that she would do the right thing by me and help boost my case with her testimony even though she was now a witness for the defense.
Tara seemed to be thinking totally the opposite than what I was thinking, because she rolled her eyes at me and gave me this vicious ice grill.
The defense attorney began asking her questions about me. He started off with real subtle questions like how long had Tara known me and where did we meet. But before long the defense attorney stepped it up with his questions.
“You and Shayla Coleman were pretty close friends at one point, would you say?”
“Yes. We were like best friends,” Tara replied.
“Did the two of you ever discuss aspects of your private sex lives?”
