The previous summer, her family had held a pool party for a group of teenagers from a local shelter. Bishop Snow suggested it as an outreach ministry for the teens, as well as an opportunity for Sharmaine and Leon to give back to their community. Twenty youth, who ranged in ages from fourteen to seventeen, arrived to spend the day. Sharmaine and Leon had arranged for an elaborate barbecue that included ribs, chicken, hamburgers, and hotdogs. They played holy hip-hop music for dancing, and provided lots of games for entertainment. Under Bishop Snow’s watchful eye, they gave the group full access to the pool and grounds.
Camille vividly remembered Danté. She’d watched him halfheartedly step off the bus wearing Timberlands, jeans, and a black T-shirt. He reminded her of the rapper LL Cool J with his caramel-colored skin, clean-shaven bald head, and sexy swagger. Infatuated, Camille kept her eye on him. Throughout the party, she noticed that he didn’t eat much or join in the games. Anxious to get a look at his body, she was disappointed that he didn’t put on swimming trunks and join the others in the pool. Instead, Danté found a chair and spent most of the day just sitting by the pool, watching everyone else having fun.
Camille decided he seemed lonesome, so she strutted over to him in her royal blue bikini. She smiled and asked if she could join him. With her father being very light and her mother much darker, Camille was the color of a perfectly browned piece of toast. Danté looked up and down her teenaged body, taking note of her full B cup bikini top, smooth flat stomach, and round hips. He gladly offered her a seat and they struck up a conversation.
Camille found him fascinating. He told her his mother was in jail and the man who raised him until he was seven was dead. She was shocked when he told her he had no idea who his father was, as his mother was a prostitute who didn’t know either. He’d ended up at the shelter when he ran away from the fifth foster home he’d been in. His stories of life on the street seemed a million miles away from anything she’d ever known. Camille talked with him, filled with wonder, until the end of the party.
As he was leaving, Danté held Camille’s hand then gently slipped something into it. He smiled at her then joined the others on the bus. Camille had watched the bus drive up the circular driveway and out of their front gate before she opened her hand, then quickly closed it. Afraid that her parents might find out, she had hidden his phone number and the marijuana joint in the box inside her playhouse. In the months since then, she had almost completely forgotten it was there, but her thoughts of Danté were constant. She’d wanted to call or send him a text message, but she was sure her parents would not approve.
Now, with tears streaming down her face, she picked up the joint and rolled it around in her hands. She put it down for a few seconds and rummaged through the cigar box again, until she found the matches she’d saved from her cousin’s wedding. Hesitantly, she picked up the joint and lit it. With her hands shaking, she slowly took a long drag. Gagging and coughing, she considered throwing it away, but instead she took another puff, and another, then another. She sat inside her playhouse, puffing on the joint until the drugs invaded her body, erasing all of the hurt and pain.
Chapter Eight
Leon paced back and forth in his family room. He walked over to the window and looked out, but no one was there. It was almost midnight and Camille was missing. After she ran out earlier, he felt it was best to give her time to calm down. Now he deeply regretted that decision, as she’d never come back. At dusk he’d grown worried, so he called all of her friends, but no one had heard from her, since her phone was destroyed that afternoon. As darkness settled in and the full moon began to rise in the sky, he contacted his personal security officer.
“Otis, have you seen Camille? She ran out upset earlier and hasn’t returned.
“No, sir. She probably just went for a walk. Her car is still in the garage.”
“Maybe a friend picked her up. Have there been any other cars around?” he asked.
“I didn’t notice anyone, but it’s possible.”
“Can you please keep a lookout? She was really upset, and I’m getting worried about her.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Cleveland,” Otis answered. He hung up the phone and went back to watching basketball on his portable TV in the security booth.
Leon assured Jeanna and Rodney that Camille was fine and would be home soon before sending them both to bed. He tried to convince himself of that also as the hours ticked by. Growing frantic, Leon finally decided to call the Atlanta Police Department. An unenthusiastic officer arrived almost two hours later. He sat on the couch, drank a bottle of water he’d requested, asked Leon a bunch of unrelated questions, then marked her as a probable runaway before leaving. Leon watched the officer drive away, feeling helpless to do anything more.
Now unable to bear waiting in the house any longer, he went to the kitchen drawer, grabbed his flashlight, and walked out into the back yard. He shined his light on the ground as he walked, searching for footprints or any sign of which way she’d gone.
After a few moments, he found himself at the back of the property near Camille’s playhouse. He shined his light on it and smiled, remembering his little girl and how much she’d loved playing inside. All of a sudden he thought he saw something inside the playhouse, so he crept closer and shined his light toward the window. He was unable to make it out, so he moved closer.
Kneeling on the ground, he shined the flashlight and peered into the open front door. He let out a long sigh of relief when he saw Camille curled up on the floor, sound asleep.
He gently called out her name. “Camille ... honey, wake up.”
Groggily, she stirred and looked around. “Dad?”
She tried to stand up then realized she couldn’t inside the cramped space. Instead, she rolled onto her knees and crawled outside. She stood up and stretched. “What time is it?” she asked.
“It’t late. I’ve been worried sick. What are you doing out here?”
Camille looked around confused. “I must have fallen asleep,” she answered.
“Let’s get in the house. We can talk in the morning.” He placed his arm around her shoulders and led her back to the house by the light of his flashlight.
Once inside, Camille went straight to the stairs, trotted up to her room, and closed the door. Leon followed behind her then went into his own bedroom. He sat down on the bed and began praying. It had been years, probably not since he was in college, but he was sure he recognized the smell of marijuana on Camille’s clothes. He knelt by his bed, begging God for guidance.
The next morning, Keisha hung up the phone after speaking to Leon. She’d given him Sharmaine’s new number and told him she thought it was a great idea for her to visit with the children. Now all she had to do was make sure that she was there when the visit occurred, so that she could put part two of her plan into motion.
She waited about thirty minutes, long enough for Sharmaine and Leon to speak and make plans; then she dialed Sharmaine’s number. “Hey, girl, did Leon call?” she asked with fake emotion.
“Yes, Keisha. Thank you for giving him the number here. Rodney and Jeanna want to see me. He also apologized for walking out of church yesterday. I prayed and prayed after I got home last night. God is so good.”
Keisha rolled her eyes as she listened to Sharmaine rambling on and on. She tuned her out, waiting to hear the information she was interested in. Sharmaine droned on and on about how excited she was.
Exasperated, Keisha finally interrupted her. “So, when’s the visit?”
“It’s this coming Saturday. I thought it would be nice if they spent the day with me here.”
“They are children. How do you plan to entertain them at your condo?”
“That’s not important, Keisha. I will just be so glad to see my babies. I’m their mother. I don’t have to entertain them. I will just enjoy being with them.”
Keisha sighed. “I guess you’re right. Do you want me to pick them up at the house and bring them over?”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll just send the car for them. No offense, Keisha, but I want to be alone with the kids.”
Panicking, Keisha began talking quickly. “No, you don’t want to do that. Have you forgotten what happened to the car at church yesterday? I’ll go over in a cab, so no one notices me. I’ll pick up the kids; then I’ll bring them to you. I can hang around and take them home later. I won’t get in your way at all ... I, um ... I just think it will be safer and easier.”
Sharmaine thought for a moment. She remembered her horror at seeing the words painted on her limo and realized she did not want her children to experience that. “Okay, Keisha, you can pick them up, but you don’t have to hang around here. Just drop them off and I’ll call you when they are ready to leave.”
She wasn’t pleased, but Keisha agreed.
Keisha arrived early that Saturday morning to pick up Rodney and Jeanna. Consuela opened the door and politely invited her in. She stood in the front entryway and waited until she saw Leon coming down the stairs alone.
“Hi, Keisha. How are you?” he asked.
“I’m good,” she answered. She was surprised that he was being so cordial. “Thanks for suggesting this visit. It means a lot to Sharmaine.”
“It was the children’s idea. I had nothing to do with it. I thought Sharmaine was sending her driver. Why are you here?”
“We had some issues with the car last week. Sharmaine didn’t want the children exposed to that, so I came in a cab.”
Leon’s brow wrinkled up. “What kinds of issues?” he asked.
“Well, the car was spray-painted while we were in church last Sunday. Sharmaine has a new limo, but, well, let’s just say you don’t want the kids reading the words that were painted. We just felt it was best to take them by cab. This way it will not draw attention to them.”
Leon shook his head. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want my children anywhere near Sharmaine. It could be dangerous.”
“But, Dad, you promised,” Rodney said as he bounded down the stairs, carrying his backpack.
Leon turned to face him. “Rodney, I didn’t know you were there. Listen, son, your mother is going through some issues. I want you children to be safe,” he answered.
“Leon, I promise you nothing will happen to them. You trust me, don’t you? Keisha asked.
“I ... I don’t know about this,” Leon stammered.
“That’s why I’m here, Leon. We knew that riding in a limo would bring out the paparazzi and media. No one will pay any attention to the cab. They are spending the day at Sharmaine’s condo. It’s a gated community. I promise they will be fine.” Keisha flashed a reassuring smile.
Still upstairs, Jeanna tapped lightly on her sister’s bedroom door. She waited for an answer, and when none came, she pushed open the door. Camille was sitting at her desk, staring at the screen on her laptop.
“Hey,” Jeanna said timidly.
Camille turned around and glared at her sister. “What do you want? Did you come to break something else?”
“No, um, I’m sorry about that, Camille.”
“Yeah, whatever. What do you want?”
“Ms. Keisha’s here to pick us up to visit Mom. Come with us, Camille? Please?”
Camille turned back to her laptop and began typing, ignoring her sister. Quietly, Jeanna closed the door and went downstairs where her Dad, Rodney, and Keisha were talking in the front hallway.
“Keisha, I trust you. Honestly, I do. But I’m just not sure,” Leon said.
“Not sure about what?” Jeanna asked as she joined them by the door.
“Dad won’t let us go. He promised; now he’s going back on his word,” Rodney whined.
Jeanna looked crestfallen.
“I didn’t say that. I’m just having second thoughts,” Leon answered. He looked at the disappointed faces of his children and sighed loudly. “Fine, Keisha, just please be careful. If there are any sign of reporters or even a teenager with a camera phone, do whatever you have to in order to protect my children.”
Rodney and Jeanna’s faces lit up with huge smiles. They hugged Leon tightly.
“You have my word, Leon. They will be fine,” Keisha answered then walked them out to the cab.
They arrived at Sharmaine’s condo two hours later. A frantic Sharmaine met them at the front door. “Where have you been?” she demanded.
“The kids were hungry, so I stopped at McDonald’s and picked them up some breakfast, Keisha answered.
“You should have called. I was worried.”
Keisha looked at her oddly. “I did call, Sharmaine. You said to bring you something also. Keisha held up the fast food bag.
“No, you did not call, Keisha,” Sharmaine insisted.
Rodney and Jeanna looked at them both with worried expressions.
“What is wrong with you, Sharmaine?” She turned to the kids. “Rodney, Jeanna, you guys heard me on the phone with your mother, right?” Keisha asked.
They both nodded their heads.
“I called you as soon as I left the house. You said you were just waking up, so stopping was fine. Don’t you remember?” Keisha eyed Sharmaine closely.
Confused, Sharmaine just stared at them. She didn’t remember speaking to Keisha at all. She’d talked to her the night before and confirmed the time she would pick up the children. When her alarm clock went off that morning, she remembered getting up, showering, and waiting patiently for them to arrive.
This wasn’t the first time in the past couple of weeks she’d been confused or bewildered. The previous Tuesday, she’d missed a meeting with her attorney because she didn’t remember making an appointment. Victor told her he’d texted her to confirm and she replied. When she had checked her phone, there was the message, just as he said. As hard as she tried, she could not remember sending it.
The previous Thursday, she’d walked into her kitchen and found it full of groceries she couldn’t remember buying. After putting them away, she checked the receipt and found her credit card number at the bottom.
Worst of all, just the day before, she’d lost the whole afternoon, unable to remember where she’d been and what she did. It was as if someone had completely erased the day from her mind. What is wrong with me? she wondered.
Quickly hiding her feelings, she smiled at them. “Silly me, I must have dozed off while I was waiting and forgot.”
“Let’s not stand out here and worry about it,” Keisha answered. “Your kids are here. Don’t you want to greet them?”
Still feeling confused, Sharmaine stepped aside so that Keisha could go inside. Then she warmly greeted each of her children. She hugged them tightly, holding on to them for several minutes. “I’ve missed you guys so much,” she said.
At his home, Leon walked up the stairs carrying a tray full of food. He stopped in front of Camille’s bedroom door then knocked.
“Who is it?” she screamed angrily.
“Camille, it’s me, Dad. Open the door, honey.”
Camille sighed; then she closed her laptop and walked over to the door and opened it. She stood there just staring at him for several seconds. “I’m not hungry, Dad. You didn’t need to bring that up here.” She reached for the door to close it.
“Wait, Camille. We need to talk.” He walked in and placed the tray on her bed, then sat down beside it.
Camille walked to the other side of the room and sat at her desk. She placed her elbows on the desk and leaned on her hands with her back to Leon.
“Your brother and sister are spending the day with your mom, so we are alone in the house. I thought it would give us a chance to talk.”
She kept her back to him and silently stared at the wall.
Leon took a deep breath. “What were you doing in the playhouse the other night, Camille?”
“I told you. I fell asleep.”
“That’s not what I mean.” He paused. “I mean before you fell asleep. What were you doing?”
She finally turned to look a
t him with a puzzled expression on her face. “I wasn’t doing anything. I just needed to get out of this house.”
He scooted forward to the edge of the bed so he’d be closer to her. He looked into her dark brown eyes. “Camille ... honey, I know that what’s happening in this family with your mother is confusing. I understand it’s scary, and I even understand that you are angry.” He paused and took another deep breath. “But drugs are not the answer.”
She turned back to the wall. “Who’s using drugs?” she asked.
“Camille, I smelled marijuana on your clothes when I found you in the playhouse. Tell me where you got it.”
Violently, she pushed her chair back from the desk, knocking it over as she stood up. She turned around and glared at him. “How do you know what weed smells like? Are you on drugs, Dad?”
Leon was shocked at her anger and accusations. Before all of the turmoil began, Camille had been the model daughter. She made good grades in school. She was respectful to her parents and peers. Most of all, she was happy. As he stared at her, he realized she was filled with a rage he didn’t understand.
“Of course not,” he finally answered.
She stalked to the other side of the room and stared out the window. “I don’t know what you think you smelled, Dad, but I’m not on drugs.”
He knew she was lying, but felt at a loss for what to say next. He reasoned that perhaps this problem was more than he could handle by himself. He decided he’d leave her alone until he could speak with a counselor.
“Consuela made waffles. Are you sure you don’t want to eat something?” he said, turning toward the tray.
“No, I don’t want it,” she answered without turning from the window.
Leon picked up the tray and walked toward the door.
“Can I go to the mall?” Camille said suddenly. She turned to face him again.
“You’re grounded for fighting with your sister,” he answered.
Losing It Page 8
