by Landis Lain
Tamar got pregnant. Judah accused her of prostitution because she was pregnant out of wedlock. He condemned her to be burned to death. Then Tamar sent Judah his staff, seal and cord telling him that the owner of the items was her baby’s father. Judah rescinded the death sentence. Tamar took her rightful place in the family and Judah’s line continued. Tamar had twin sons. One was named Perez and he is an ancestor of King David who is an ancestor of Jesus. In the Ethiopian tradition, Perez became the king of Persia.”
“Wow,” said Sasha, now fascinated with the tale.
“What’s the moral of the story?” asked Dr. Michelle.
“You’ve got to be tricky to get over?” asked Sasha. They both laughed.
No, but good one,” said Dr. Michelle. “The moral is that if God wills it to be right and just, then you can’t lose. Tamar was tricky, but she was getting what she was owed in the only way she could. She didn’t have a lot of rights as a wife because she was just married into the family. If Judah had had some law abiding decent sons, they might still be alive. Judah condemned Tamar for the same conduct he engaged in. God made Tamar the winner.”
“OH!” said Sasha. “I never thought about it like that.”
“What was done to you is not something you chose,” said Dr. Michelle. “You don’t have to be ashamed. The shame is theirs.”
“It feels like mine.”
“Why do you claim it as yours?”
“I don’t know.”
“You want to try to let it go?”
Sasha nodded.
“Did you write down what happened?”
“Yes.”
“Then you got rid of it, you separated yourself from what happened, right?”
“I suppose.”
“You started on your journey,” said Dr. Michelle.
“What journey?”
“Your life journey where you always try to do what’s right from now on,” said Dr. Michelle. “You get your gifts, what is coming to you. Your journey.”
“Why doesn’t anybody at Bible study ever tell girls stories like Tamar?” asked Sasha. “They might give me some hope.”
“You’ve got to study, pray and figure it out for yourself,” said Dr. Michelle. “It is all in the way you look at the situation.”
Sasha paused. “So, are you saying that I shouldn’t be feeling sorry for myself. I need to be fixing my own situation the best way I know how?”
“You said it,” said Dr. Michelle. “Is that what you get from the story?”
“That’s scary,” said Sasha.
“I’m sure Tamar was terrified when Judah said she should be burned to death.” They sat in silence for a few minutes.
“So, God gave me the baby?” said Sasha, meeting Michelle’s eyes.
“Like a gift.”
Sasha snorted. “Some gift. He’s been a lot of trouble.”
“And you haven’t?” asked Dr. Michelle. “How do you think your mother felt when she realized that she was going to have to support you and a baby?”
“She was mad as fire.”
“And yet, she took you back in?”
“She did.”
“Did she have to?”
“No.” Sasha felt sulky and put upon.
“And what about the young man you named as the father?” asked Dr. Michelle. “Did he act like Ricky was trouble?”
Sasha shook her head.
“So,” said Dr. Michelle, nodding, “you can look at Ricky as a gift from God, no matter what trials and tribulations you had to go through to get him or you can look at him as a punishment.”
“He’s not a punishment! He’s just a little baby,” said Sasha, defensive. “He didn’t do anything wrong. He didn’t ask to come here.”
“True.”
“Oh.” Sasha sat back in the chair, deflated.
“Exactly.”
Sasha thought about it for a minute and then said, “What should I tell him when he asks about his father? That’s going to be trouble. From everywhere. For everybody.”
“The truth,” said Dr. Michelle, firmly. “That you were young. You didn’t know the father well. You made a poor decision. But, Ricky will always be loved.”
“Oh,” said Sasha, nodding. She felt relief and a heavy burden she didn’t even know that she had been carrying lift slightly from her shoulders. “Okay. So maybe I don’t have to tell the whole story?”
“That’s up to you,” said Dr. Michelle. “You have to decide if you can live your whole life with the whole truth on your conscience or out in the open. Thomas Paine, who wrote this book called Common Sense back in the 1700’s, wrote ‘Reputation is what men and women think of us. Character is what God and the angels know of us.’ Old people say, ‘Tell the truth and shame the devil’.”
“That is easy to say.”
“The choice,” said Dr. Michelle. “Is entirely yours.”
“It’s so hard.”
“Yes.”
“Tamar was strong, wasn’t she? It’s all in the way you look at it.”
“I have some things to think about,” said Sasha.
“Yes, you do.”
AMBUSHED
April 25,
I feel like I’m in the 89th minute of a never-ending soccer match. I can’t go back to the beginning and correct things, but I can’t get out of this game. Something has to shake loose. I must. I can’t stay here where they try to kill me and then act like I liked it. That should be a penalty. A red card for sure.
“So,” said Suleiman, lifting Ricky out of the car seat to place him into the stroller. The baby babbled. Suleiman smiled at him. “I will meet you by the little play area in the mall outside of Macy’s in half an hour. That should give you enough time to shop and me enough time to go to Younker’s Men’s store for that jacket I saw in the ad.”
It was a blustery April Saturday, though the weak sunlight was trying to make a showing. The parking lot was not very full since it was early. Most students were probably just getting up from their Friday night party. Basketball season, spring break and Easter had passed. The campus was settling into serious study mode.
“I can tell you do not have sisters,” said Sasha, looking at Suleiman, GQ handsome in the late morning sun.
“Why?”
“A half hour is not enough time to shop,” said Sasha.
“You’ve been to this mall a bunch of times,” he said.
“What are you going to see this time that you haven’t seen before?”
“They get new stuff in all the time,” said Sasha. “I got to get the full effect.”
Suleiman rolled his eyes. “You are such a girl.”
Sasha stuck out her tongue as she pulled off her jacket and put it back in the car. It would get too hot and with the stroller and diaper bag, just an extra item to haul around.
“Whatever, Mr. my sneakers must never be scuffed.” Sasha smiled and shook her head. “You are the prissy one!”
Suleiman gave her a dirty look. “Former Marines are never prissy. I was a warrior. Warriors have sartorial élan.”
He slung the black leather diaper bag over his shoulder. Sasha started pushing the stroller toward the doors to Macy’s.
She laughed. “Warriors have what-what?”
Suleiman closed the car door and hit the key fob to lock the car door. He jogged a few steps to catch up.
“We always look good and dress to impress,” he said, a step behind her. “And I know you are not talking about prissy, Miss, I match my underwear to the color of my lotion. Plus, I’ve seen all those clothes that you never wear crammed into your closet.”
She stopped so suddenly that Suleiman had to jump to the side to avoid hitting her.
“Whoa! What’s wrong with you?”
“When did you see my underwear?” Sasha was aghast.
Suleiman rolled his eyes. “Girl, how many times have we gone to the laundry mat together?”
“So?”
“So, you wash a mountain of multicolored underw
ear and bras in those mesh bags, fourteen pairs of pinned together multicolored socks, which you also match to your underwear, seven pairs of jeans and fourteen sweatshirts every two weeks.”
“You actually counted?”
Suleiman had the grace to look sheepish. He shrugged.
“It’s a thing. When I was in the Marines we’d send out laundry. I counted to make sure I got it all back,” he said. “The other Richardson in my unit was short and nasty. It wasn’t like I could step out to the store in the Afghan desert and buy some more stuff. Wearing other people’s ill-fitting clothes is the pits. Counting my stuff is a habit.”
“But how do you know I match my underwear to the color of my lotion?”
“I’m out of that pink sweet pea lotion,” Suleiman mimicked her voice in a mocking falsetto. “Can we stop at Bath and Body
Works and get some? And Victoria’s Secret has a sale on Vanilla Scrumptious; it’s such a pretty gold color.” He pointed at her.
“You never have the same scent from day to day and you’ve got them all lined up on the dresser. Seven different colored lotions; a color for every day.”
“Get to the underwear part,” snapped Sasha.
“Well,” he said, adjusting the diaper bag on his shoulder. “I saw it laid out on your dresser one time, pink socks, pink bra, pink undies, pink lotion. It made my day.” He laughed when Sasha smacked him on the arm.
“You know that is assault and battery, right?”
He reached over her shoulder and held the door while she wheeled the stroller through.
“I’m so embarrassed,” said Sasha. Suleiman held out the diaper bag to her and she hung it over the back of the stroller.
“Embarrassment, really?” Suleiman reached over and tilted her chin up with a gentle hand. She met his eyes. “This is what we are doing now?”
She removed her chin from his hand.
“It’s such a weird thing to do,” said Sasha, glancing around at the men’s clothing. She looked every place but at Suleiman.
“Why?” asked Suleiman. “I thought it was cute. We all have our quirks.”
“So now I’m quirky?” asked Sasha. “Don’t make me karate chop you. You know I’m in Ninja school.”
“‘Scuse me,” drawled Suleiman. “But that is Marine Corps Martial Arts Training to you. It is very comprehensive and includes boxing, judo, Bujinkan Budo Taijutsu…”
“Oh, whatever,” said Sasha, laughing. “Thank you for sharing Mr. Martial Arts instructor, sensei, sir.”
“Anything for you, Grasshopper.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll come back and watch Ricky while you shop if you need more time. Don’t forget your smell good stuff.”
“Shut up!”
AVENGED
Enough!
Girls should carry stun guns and learn to fight at the same time they learn how to put on lip gloss and nail polish. Most important, we should be taught that NICE is a four-letter word.
Sasha meandered around Macy’s for a while, looking for a gift to buy for her mother’s upcoming birthday. She had almost decided on a purse but decided to do a quick look around the mall and then come back to Macy’s to make certain she did not see anything better. She could always return the purse on the way out. She made a circuit around the mall, stopping at the food court to buy Ricky a pretzel, which he crammed into his mouth. When she got to the little play area she stopped. It had a truck, a tiny slide and other colorful things sprawled on carpet for the kids to play on and give the parents a rest. Ricky liked to toddle and crawl around on the apparatus and ride the tiny merry go round. He was getting to be more of a little boy and less of a baby each day.
Sasha leaned down to remove the bread from the baby’s hair and wiped his hands with a baby wipe when she was nudged to the side. She looked up, expecting to see Suleiman and froze. Dragon Dog Frazier lifted Ricky out of the stroller before she could stop him. She looked around wildly and noted K Smooth standing lookout. Both were decked out in Death Lord purple and black. The other parents sitting in the play area eyed them warily and sidled over quickly to remove their children to a safe distance from the impending disturbance.
Sasha reached out. “Give me my baby!” Her voice was shrill with panic and rage.
D Dog ignored her and took a step back. K Smooth stepped between them. Ricky started to struggle and whimper. “Who you think he looks like? I think he looks like me.”
Sasha didn’t answer. D Dog was bigger, more filled out, still good-looking, bordering on pretty until you got to his eyes. Gabby had called it the crazy; that dead, merciless look to his brown eyes. Sasha hadn’t seen it then, but she saw it now.
“You haven’t been answering your phone, sweet sticky thang,” said D Dog. He lifted Ricky higher and sniffed his cheek.
“Don’t call me that,” she said. “My baby…”
“You used to like it.”
“Well, I don’t anymore,” said Sasha. “When did you get out of jail?”
“I see you still with your new man.”
Sasha felt her chest seize with fear. This was what she had warned Suleiman about, getting into her life meant dealing with Craig Frazier and his boys.
“He’s just somebody from school,” she said. “He’s not important. He’s nobody.”
“I don’t care who you get busy with,” said D Dog. “That’s what tramps do. But you gonna always be my property ‘because you got my baby.”
Sasha shook her head.
Where was mall security?
“I’m no one’s property,” She snapped. “You make me want to vomit.”
D Dog scowled. He tightened his hold on the squirming toddler. Ricky whimpered.
“You didn’t come see me like I told you to,” said D Dog. “We need to set up some custody. I’ll call you, set something up. A schedule. You make it, everybody stays safe, understand?”
“Please Craig, give me my baby.” She hated the pleading quality in her voice, but she wasn’t sure he wouldn’t hurt Ricky. “He’s just a little boy.”
“I’m not gon’ hurt this baby,” said D Dog, nostrils flaring. He looked enraged. “You think I’d hurt my own kid?”
Sasha stepped forward. K Smooth put a hand to her chest.
She slapped his hand away.
“Get your nasty hands off me,” she said through gritted teeth.
“That ain’t what you said when I had my hands on you before,” said K Smooth. He pushed her forehead with one finger causing her to stumble. “Not to me, or D Money or Ray Ray or T Bone.” He kept jabbing her in the forehead with his finger to punctuate each name. She staggered backward and then righted herself.
A familiar buzzing started behind her ears. Rage hummed through her whole being.
D Dog ran his tattooed hand over Ricky’s head and the baby took immediate exception. He opened his mouth to let out a wail. D Dog clapped his hand over the baby’s mouth. The toddler struggled.
She launched herself toward Dragon Dog and K Smooth grabbed her arm to yank her back. Without thinking she whirled toward him in a move that Suleiman had taught her and kneed him in the groin. K Smooth doubled over. Sasha punched him in the nose on the way down. He dropped to the ground and lay in a fetal position at her feet, groaning. She kicked him on the back as hard as she could.
“Don’t you ever, ever, ever touch me again,” she snarled. She heard a gagging sound and whirled to find D Dog up on his toes, eyes bulging from Suleiman’s chokehold. D Dog had one hand on Suleiman’s arm and one hand clutching the baby.
“Give me my baby,” said Sasha, through gritted teeth. “And you leave me alone.”
“The lady,” ground out Suleiman so quietly that Sasha had to strain to hear over the mall music playing in the background. He tightened his hold and leaned in closer. Craig’s face reddened under his café au lait skin. “She asked you nicely to give her the baby.”
D Dog shook his head.
Suleiman leaned in closer, his lips nearly toughing D Dog’s e
ar. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” he murmured. “You hand her the baby. Or my favorite, I snap your neck and take him from you.”
Ricky wailed. He held his arms out toward Sasha.
Sasha lunged forward and bit Craig’s hand. He cursed but loosened his grip. She grabbed the baby, stepped away and patted his back. She murmured to him and he quieted down, grasping her collar with one chubby hand. She looked at Suleiman. He met her eyes.
“If you ever touch or come near her again,” said Suleiman in that same quiet tone as he tightened his hold, “I will come for you and your boys. You will not see me coming. Do we have an understanding?”
D Dog frantically clawed at the arm around his neck. A few seconds later, D Dog’s eyes rolled back in his head and his eyes flickered closed a second before he slumped. Suleiman let him collapse to the floor, where he lay still.
K Smooth was still groaning but was on his knees. He met Sasha’s eyes and she glimpsed the warrior in Suleiman’s eyes. The sight gave Sasha chills.
Shoppers, mostly women with little kids, had scattered like confetti at the first sign of trouble. Others stopped to gawk at a safe distance, or video with their phones. No one said a word. Sasha’s heart pounded over the silence.
“Let’s go,” Suleiman said, grabbing the stroller and diaper bag. “I saw a few more of his boys flashing colors in the mall and I’m not trying to meet up with them. There’s too many of them. I’d have to kill somebody and that would not be good. Mall security has called the police by now.”
They jogged through Macy’s and out to the parking lot to the car. Suleiman stowed the stroller while Sasha nearly flung Ricky into the car seat. They were in the car and on the road before Sasha felt the panic.
“I can’t breathe,” she wheezed.
“Yes, you can,” said Suleiman. “Put your head between your knees. I’ll stop as soon as we get clear of this mall.” Suleiman drove around for a few minutes and finally pulled into Lake Lansing Park. He drove to a secluded spot and parked the car. Sasha rushed out and gagged by the bushes.
