by Cydney Rax
25
* * *
Anya
It’s mid-morning on a Sunday. The brightness of the summer sun fills the sky and the excitement of a new season electrifies the atmosphere.
The final morning service at Solomon’s Temple has just ended. Hundreds of men, women, and teens are chattering away, hugging and rocking one another, and enjoying some last-minute fellowshipping before scattering for the exit doors. Riley and I are loitering inside the sanctuary, still tingly from the afterglow of an empowering church service. Besides, I’m much too preoccupied to rush off and round up Reesy and Mika from children’s church just yet.
“I want to ask you something,” I say to Riley, who has just grabbed her purse and flung the strap over her shoulder. “Let’s sit down for a few minutes, okay?”
Riley and I settle into a pew in the rear corner section and I pause, trying to form the words I’d like to say.
“I just want you to know that I really admire the changes you’ve made in your life, girl.”
Riley smiles so wide, I can’t help but offer her a warm smile, too.
“I’ve been praying that people see something different in me, Ms. Anya. I’m a witness that the Lord can turn your life around for the better.”
“Good, that’s exactly what I need to know,” I tell her. “But before all the good stuff happened, did you ever get tired of the bad?”
“Hon, don’t start me to lying,” she exclaims, her eyes marked with sincerity. “There was a time in my life when I despised waking up. I was sooo scared of what the day would bring. When Mika was little, my life was a stinking mess. Me and Jamal would be getting into it day and night. He was so controlling and would demand my paycheck even though he didn’t have a job.” Her voice catches. “And like a fool, I’d cash my check, give him money. And he’d take my car, leave me stuck at home with the baby the entire weekend, and sometimes I would be left with no way to pay the rent. Don’t ask me what he did with the money.” She shakes her head. “I ended up taking out loans with thirty percent interest, just to pay my darned bills.” She laughs. “Thank God them days are long over. I got a nice little raise with my job at the hospital, and me and Mika are doing just fine. I even started socking away ten percent of my salary.” Her eyes sparkle and I can sense her relief at being in a better place.
“I’m so happy to hear that, Riley. Now all you need is a man.” I giggle.
“Oh no, wait a second, now don’t be cursing me.” She laughs, too. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not one of them new-millennium chicks that don’t need a man and all that. I’m just content to wait on God’s timing. His timing is everything. But I didn’t always feel that way. Years ago when life was rough, I dreaded the weekend, the nighttime, every single day. And I blamed God, actually hated Him at one point because I felt He had the power to intervene, but thought He flat out refused to help me. I’d see other folks getting blessed and that made me so upset.”
“Girl, are you kidding me?” I bite my bottom lip. “I’ve felt that way, too, but would be so scared to think those thoughts. I actually started looking for lightning bolts to strike me.”
“Ha, that’s just a myth. That ain’t gonna happen, hon. But anger is a process we must go through in order to find joy. You know how they say it, ‘Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.’ I’m a witness. Especially when I had an abortion—shoot, let me stop lying, two, count ’em, two abortions. I got the first one when I was eighteen, then oops, I did it again three years later. But for some reason it took me a long time to conceive Mika. And I think that’s why I hung on to Jamal. After messing around with these other men that I really liked and wouldn’t mind getting with, it seemed like Jamal’s sperm was the only one that could swim upstream.” She throws back her head and laughs heartily. “But yep, I can admit I had issues with the Lord, till He told me something that changed my attitude.”
“What was that?” I ask, and lean forward.
“The Lord told me, ‘I create life, not you.’ See, I was mad at myself, questioning my self-worth because I couldn’t get pregnant after having those abortions. But I learned God can open a womb, and He can close it. Sometimes we forget that, but for sure, you can believe I’ll never forget it again. Mmmm-hmmm, no way. I’m cool with the life that I have right now, just me and Mika, but it took me a good while to get there.”
“But at least you got there,” I tell her.
Riley continues, “Yep, Ms. Anya, some things you can’t control. You can’t fight it, you can’t even fix it. Why? Because that’s not your job, you just have to acquiesce.” She giggles. “Is that a word?”
I giggle, nod, and squeeze Riley’s hand.
26
* * *
Neil
“You sitting down?”
“I am now, Dani. Just closed my door, too. What’s up?” I’m at work, and just now returned from some back-to-back meetings. It’s almost six o’clock. I know I won’t be home before seven.
“Five thousand dollars,” Dani exclaims.
I stiffen. “What about it?” I remember Dani telling me she’s let some of her bills pile up.
“Executive administrative assistant. Five-grand increase per year, on-site day-care center, pretty decent health and dental, two weeks’ vacation—”
“You got the gig?” I’m standing now, head spinning. It’s taken Dani almost three months for her luck to change, but it finally happened.
“Neil, everything is great. My boss is a female, thank God. But there’s only one catch.” She pauses. “This company is in West Houston. So I’m gonna look for an apartment out there.”
“Makes sense to me.”
“You sure you’re okay about that?” she asks. “I mean, I thought about it. It’s way out Highway 6—I mean way out. The commute wouldn’t make any sense. So…I’m disappointed in that part, but on the other hand, it’ll be good to get away from this side of town—like I’m making a brand-new start.”
She sounds a little sad, but mostly happy. I can’t interfere with that.
“So,” I ask, “what will this mean regarding…?”
“I dunno. I gotta figure something out. I guess the baby can stay with you one week out of the month. Damn, I don’t like thinking too much in advance.”
“I wish it weren’t so far.”
“Me, too, honey.”
Much as I wish they wouldn’t, my ears tingle. Her voice drips with earnest sensuality. I close my eyes and move the phone away, but then press it hard against my ear.
“But hey,” Dani speaks up, “It’s not like I’m moving to Atlanta, silly. We’ll still hook up. But I really want to treat you, remember like I promised? We can go anywhere you wanna go.”
“Dani…”
“I won’t take no for an answer, Neil. It doesn’t have to be a fancy place. My funds are way screwy, but I’ll just charge this to my almost-maxed-out Visa.”
“Well, I’ll pay,” I offer. “Let’s go eat crab legs at some point.”
She squeals. She loves seafood as much as I do.
“It’s a date,” Dani says.
A couple of weekends later, Anya and Vette drive down to Galveston to buy fresh fish, and Dani decides to take a “me day,” as she calls it, all of which means I get stuck watching the kids for most of the day. No problemo.
Later that afternoon we venture out to Super Wal-Mart. I strap Brax in one of those shopping carts that has its own baby carrier. I grab Reese by the hand and we walk down an aisle that has junk food.
“Daddy, can I have some potato chips?”
“No, Reese. And it’s ‘May I have,’ not ‘Can I.’”
“Huh?”
“No, you can’t have potato chips. They’re fattening.”
“You always eat them.”
I clear my throat and shake my head.
“What about popcorn?” she asks.
“What about it?”
“Is popcorn gonna make me fat?”
&nbs
p; “No, it’s not, because I’m not buying that, either.”
“You’re mean!” she yells.
“I know. Being mean is what mean people do, Reese. They’re great at saying no.”
My daughter does some serious rolling of the eyes and tries to loosen her tiny fingers from my firm grip.
“No running around the store where I can’t find you,” I tell her. “Stay with me, we won’t be here long.”
She pokes out her bottom lip but I don’t care. Meanwhile, Brax has been looking at both of us and laughing. I don’t see what’s so funny, but if he does, I won’t argue with him.
“Daddy, I wonder if they have new dolls here.” Reese’s eyes are sparkling.
“Probably,” I murmur. We’re in domestics, quite a distance from the toy section. I’m examining vacuum cleaner bags, trying to remember which brand we need. My cell phone rings. I glance at caller ID.
“Hey, you,” I answer, letting go of Reese’s hand, and looking around to see who’s nearby.
“Hi, honey.”
I try not to blush and I’m happy Dani can’t see me.
“Where are you?” she asks.
“At the store.”
“Oh, wow, thanks for being so precise. At the store. Hmmm, I’m done taking care of my business. How about if I come to the store so I can be with y’all? Where’s our son?”
“Right here,” I say, glancing at rosy-cheeked Brax. “Wanna talk to him?”
“I wanna talk to you.”
“Talk.” I cradle the phone between my ear and shoulder and grab a package of vacuum cleaner bags.
“Neil, I can’t wait for you to see my new place.”
“Oh, so you do want me to see it?”
“What you talking ’bout? Of course I do. Not just yet, though. That’s why I haven’t let you over here. I’m trying to get it perfect.” She sighs with contentment.
“When will it be perfect?”
“Once you walk in the door, baby. It’ll be too perfect once you’re here.”
I feel like crossing my legs even though I’m standing up. Brax shrieks and laughs. I plant my lips against his cheek. He gurgles, “Mama.”
I lock eyes with him.
“Did you hear that, Dani?”
“No, what happened? Why are you shouting?”
“Brax said ‘Mama.’”
“Stop lying,” she laughs.
“Dani, I’m telling you he talked.”
“Maybe it sounded like he said that. He’s too young to be saying it.”
“But haven’t you been in his face a lot lately, saying that to him? Maybe he misses you.”
“Of course he misses me,” Dani says indignantly. “But I doubt he said that.”
“Wait a minute, ask Reese. Hey, Reese!” I call out, and turn around. I look down an aisle that has only me and a Wal-Mart associate wearing a blue vest.
I turn my head the other way. No one.
I walk a few steps, leaving Brax in his basket.
“Hello,” I hear Dani saying, but I’m too distracted trying to look for Reese.
Braxton shrieks. Maybe I’ve gotten too far away from him. I take a few more steps away from him until I can clearly see the video games.
A few teenage boys are gripping joysticks, but no one else is around.
Brax cries again. I hear him all the way around the corner.
I hurry back and see my red-faced son. He’s kicking his legs and tears are sliding down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry, little man.” I kiss his cheeks and wipe his tears.
“Dani.”
“Don’t ‘Dani’ me. I’ve been calling your name forever. I thought you lost the signal or something. What’s up?”
“It’s Reese. She’s gone. I mean, she’s probably around here somewhere. I need to find her.”
“Go to the toy section, Neil. Try that, or maybe she had to use the little girls’ room.”
“I’ll, uh, okay,” I answer, my face heated. “I’ll call you right back.”
I try not to move the basket too fast, but it’s making loud noises, squeaking and screaming, sounding exactly like how I feel inside.
I wheel the shopping cart down any aisle that I think would lure a little girl. Barbies, dollhouses, games, anything electronic…It’s when I realize she’s not in any of those sections that I am tempted to dial up Anya. A thick knot develops in my throat, but I concentrate on the need to find a manager and have my daughter paged. I hope no one has snatched her. I hope she hasn’t escaped the store somehow. I can’t imagine not being able to lay my hands on my child ever again. I want to pray, but praying is for those who have favor with the One they’re praying to.
I’m walking past the aquarium section when I hear…
“I want one of those,” a familiar sassy voice proclaims.
“Me too, me too, me too.”
I stop pushing the basket and stare down the aisle. It smells fishy and it feels chilly, but the chilliness turns to warmth when I see the back of my daughter’s braided head.
Tamika is pointing at some fish in a twelve-gallon tank. Reese is jumping up and down, waving at some creatures that don’t know she exists.
“Reese,” I say, voice firm, trying to squeeze back the anger that makes me want to shake and kiss her at the same time.
“Hey, Daddy,” Reese says casually.
“Don’t ever do that again.”
“Hello, Neil.” Riley rounds the corner with a welcoming smile. “I wondered where you were. I saw your daughter in the doll section and told her to come with me since she informed me that you must’ve gotten lost.”
“Uhhh, yeah, thanks,” I tell her.
“Hi there, Brax. Since Dani got the job and her new place, I’ve barely seen the baby. He’s so precious. May I hold him?”
“Sure,” I answer Riley, and let her unlatch my son so she can prop him on her hip and flirt with him and watch him flirt back.
Seeing my daughter again, especially with Riley nearby, makes me feel better, kind of like when you drive through a school zone and see children walking alongside a crossing guard. It’s just a good feeling.
I sigh and mumble a quick thanks to the Lord. Right now I want nothing more than to round up my family and embrace them all in a tight hug, squeezing them like I never want to let them from my sight again.
We’ve just finished shopping and paid for our purchases. We’re now in the front lobby of Wal-Mart, where they have vending machines for bubble gum and soda. Of course, Tamika wants a cold drink, and whatever Tamika wants, Reese has to have it, too. While the kids are getting a kick out of inserting dimes and nickels in the machines, Riley stands patiently nearby.
She wears a contented smile on her face. In fact, she’s glowing. The more I stare at Riley, the more I want to look away. Her light is too bright for me. Her light reminds me of things I want to forget.
I wonder what Anya has confided to this woman. Is Riley aware of all my personal failures or am I just paranoid that she knows?
I don’t care what she thinks, I say to myself. But a lie doesn’t lie very well, and standing in Riley’s presence makes me feel like Jesus Himself is hanging out at Super Wal-Mart. I’m ready to bounce like a kangaroo.
“C’mon, Reese,” I say firmly. “We really need to get going.”
“Okay, Daddy. Want some soda?”
“I want you to come on. I have a million things to do.”
Riley smiles and waves. I turn from her, heading toward the huge parking lot, which is bustling with cars and people coming and going.
I walk away from Riley—and feel like I just walked away from God.
The next Sunday morning, I hear Anya tell our daughter to take her bath. Reese is going to church with Anya, Riley, and Tamika. After Reese finishes bathing and getting dressed, she runs downstairs so her mom can make her hair look fancy. They’re in the den. I’m in the kitchen popping two slices of bread in the toaster, and frying bacon on the Foreman grill.
; I’m pouring some orange juice in a glass when the phone rings. Anya catches it. I go in the den and smile at my daughter. She’s wearing a pretty pink-and-blue dress with patent-leather shoes. She’s spruced up in white tights, and her braids are decorated with pink-and-blue flashing barrettes.
“You’re coming to church, Daddy?”
“What? Uh, no, not today.”
“Why not?”
I don’t say anything.
“Go to church, Daddy. God loves you.”
My daughter gives me a thoughtful look that suggests I should know this already. I hear the bell ring. The door opens, then slams shut.
My son is upstairs asleep, Vette is MIA, and for once I am a man alone inside his castle. I scrutinize my home, which is sparkling clean, every room tastefully furnished, but sometimes the house reminds me of a bride without her groom. I remember where every stick of furniture was purchased, how much it cost, when we bought it, Anya and I relishing in the joys of home ownership, marveling that we were doing something positive together.
I am tempted to dwell on the past, but I know that will only make me feel depressed, so I wander into my library and shut the door.
I plop down on the sofa, which makes a swishing noise, like it’s sighing.
Looking around, I notice my daughter’s thick white children’s Bible. I guess she forgot and left it in here one day. A year ago I presented this book to Reese. She enjoys sitting on the couch, turning the pages, and listening to me read while she nods and shakes her bare feet up and down. Observing Reese’s pure faith reminds me of when I was a child, the days when I simply believed just like she does.
Again, my eyes are drawn to her Bible. It’s not closed shut but is open—like it’s expecting me.
The illustration on the page it’s opened to shows Jesus Christ of Nazareth looking up at the sky. The background displays a blue sky with white clouds, and a few words are written on top of the clouds like someone is talking.
I read the words: “This is my beloved son in whom I am well-pleased.”
God giving Jesus props like that amazes me. Jesus is “the man,” something I know I’m not. I ponder my recent behavior, my lack of commitment, prayer, and sincere repentance, and I say aloud, “God saying that about His Son is really impressive. I know He’d never say anything like that about me.”
