Just To Be Loved
Just To Be Loved
Copyright © 2013 Vivian Rose Lee
ViviRose Publishing (re-edited)
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This is a work of fiction. References may be made to locations, historical events; however, names, characters, places and incidents or the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead. Business establishments, events, or locales are entirely coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks and registered service marks are property of their respective owner.
Prologue
Lifting a trembling hand to her face and wiping away a lone tear, Mya Taylor watched as the funeral director at the Mount Pleasant Cemetery lowered the casket into the ground, interring it forever with the many others buried there.
“Goodbye Mama,” she whispered softly, turning away from the grave that would be her mother’s final resting place.
There was not a crowd of grieving family members surrounding the grave, nor throngs of friends and colleagues paying their final respects to the memory of a grand woman. In the end, only Mya, the funeral director, and the cemetery workers attended. She pulled her thin covering close around her body to fight off the bitterness of the chilling March winds, and walked slowly towards home trying to face the fact that her mother was now gone and that life must go on. She knew that she had to survive and make the best of her life, or at least what was left of it, but if the rest of her life was anything like her life had been thus far, she knew that it would eventually destroy her.
With slightly slanted, almond shaped eyes the hypnotic color of amber champagne, she remorsefully looked down at the ground and took a moment to reflect on what up to now had been her life. Strangers thought she was lovely, beautiful even, but she knew better. She had a small nose and full, bow-shaped lips that rarely smiled, a flawless heart-shaped face the color of rich maple, and thick, long unruly orange hued hair she kept pulled back in a tight ponytail. For as long as she could remember, her mother called her ugly and made fun of her. Woo-Hoo, you sure is ugly with them yellow eyes and that nappy orange hair. Child if you wasn’t so dark, I’d swear you was an albino. After that, her mother would laugh until tears ran down her face.
Over the years, Mya had often wished she’d taken after her mother’s good looks. Ione Taylor was a honey-colored beauty with chocolate brown eyes and a well-endowed body, and Mya reasoned that maybe if she had resembled her mother, her mother would have loved her just a little. She learned at a very young age however, that that was impossible because when her mother wasn’t busy berating her or putting her down, she was busy complaining about the man that fathered her, a man known to Mya only as Henry Trent, who just like Mya, her mother seemed to despise and hate as well. Mya never knew why her mother felt this way, and the only thing that she knew about him was that he lived in Arkansas. As a child, she always dreamed that one day he would come to rescue her. He would come for her riding on a big white horse and take her far, far away from her mother’s physical, emotional, and verbal abuse, and the two of them would live happily ever after just like in the fairy tales... but it never happened. Instead, she grew up with an embittered, bile woman who, because the man who fathered her wasn’t there to hate, took that hatred out on her.
Mya would be the first to admit her mother wasn’t the best mother in the world, but she was all Mya had. She was not a woman who believed in having a job and was more than happy to accept the state’s assistance in her care and upkeep, her reason being that when she was old enough to work she was forced to get a job with all the income going to her mother. And when times got real hard and the money flow dried up, in order to keep a roof over their heads, her mother would take up with any man she thought could take care of her, and there were many, some of whom she genuinely liked, and some others that she genuinely hated. During those times, she didn’t care if the men had a family either; if she wanted that man, she got him. When she could no longer hold onto them, which was never very long anyway, she would simply move on to the next eager sucker hooking them with her feminine wiles and manipulative ways.
When Mya began to mature, the men her mother invited over started looking at her lustfully and making filthy comments about her, but instead of throwing them out, her mother would accuse Mya of flirting with her dates and interfering with her relationships. So in order to resolve that issue, whenever her mother made new friends she warned Mya to stay out of the way, and even made her wear oversized clothing to disguise the fact that she had developed into a young woman. No sense in being bitter about that now though; her mother was gone and it was time for her make a life for herself.
The one thing Mya regretted was that she never was able to attended college. Even though she graduated high school with honors at the age of sixteen and had offers of full scholarships to a few colleges, she declined mainly because she was only sixteen and had to have her mother’s approval, something that Mya knew she would never get. It was because of that lack of approval that her dreams of one day becoming an architectural engineer remained just that, a dream, and all because her mother needed her support. Mya pushed her many disappointments aside. Mama was gone now; time for her to face the fact that she was all alone. Granted, she had a father, but according to what her mother always told her, he never wanted her.
She sighed, stuffing her cold hands deeper into her jacket pockets to ward off the chilly winds that blew. She had other worries to be sure, with money being the main issue. Although she worked two jobs, there still never seemed to be enough, and if she could have afforded health insurance and the proper care, maybe her Momma would have live longer.
She walked up the steps to the small one bedroom apartment that she shared with her mother for the past five years. It wasn’t all that unusual for her mother to move in the middle of the night and drag her right along with her, but this was the longest they ever stayed anywhere.
She entered, closing the door behind herself, and after removing her hat and jacket, neatly hung them by the door. The little house was not in the best of shape because the landlord never fixed anything, and a large wet circle appeared in the center of the ceiling because the roof leaked. The bathroom and kitchen sinks dripped constantly and the heater barely heated the room. Mya looked around the shabbily decorated room. She sat down on the second hand sofa that was also her bed and continued to examine the room before sighing and letting her body sink into the back of the sofa. Although a part of her will miss her mother, the other part felt like a weight had been lifted from her small shoulders.
Ione Taylor wasn’t the easiest person to love, but Mya did love her in her own way, even though she never received the affection she saw her classmates receiving from their parents. Mama never once touched her in an affectionate way, and the only physical contact given by her was a slap or a pinch if she didn’t obey a demand quick enough.
Glancing at the time, Mya rose to change into her uniform for her first job at the fast food restaurant, and once that was over, she would go to the large department store where she restocked shelves after it closed. She didn’t mind though. She knew that if she worked just a few more hours each day, she would eventually be able to find another small apartment somewhere else and leave this rundown neighborhood once and for all. Now that she was all alone, staying by herself in this part of town frightened her.
A knock startled her from her thoughts and when she pulle
d opened the door, the landlord Mr. Caldwell stood there leering at her.
“Yes Mr. Caldwell?” Mya spoke. She tried to appear cordial, but the truth was that she trusted him about as far as she could throw him.
“May I come in?” He asked.
She took a few seconds to study Mr. Caldwell, who always struck her as some kind of slickster. He was a short, overweight man with processed, thinning, and dyed black wavy hair that he combed to the side. He looked as though he had to use a shoehorn to pry himself into the 70’s-styled leisure suits that he wore, and she couldn’t remember ever seeing him without a sneaky crooked smile on his thick, fat lips.
“I was on my way to work Mr. Caldwell,” Mya replied impatiently.
He nodded his head as if he didn’t hear a word she’d said. “I was sorry to hear about your Mama… she ah, was a good friend.”
“Thank you,” Mya muttered. “Did you need something Mr. Caldwell?”
At that point all Mya wanted him to do was leave. She knew that he wasn’t there for the rent; the rent was paid at the beginning of the month.
“Believe me I’m sorry to do this, but your rent has been behind these past six months and needs to be paid up in full if you still want to stay here.”
A pain stabbed Mya in her chest. Mama paid the rent and that was a fact. Mya knew that because she gave Mama the money she earned every week just to cover it.
“We paid the rent every month,” Mya declared. “Mama has the receipts.”
Mr. Caldwell smiled and shook his slick head. “Not really. You see my dear, your mother and I had an arrangement.”
“Arrangement?” Mya repeated confused.
“Yes, an arrangement. You understand,” he replied with a grin.
Mya stumbled, suddenly feeling weak.
Mama slept with this greasy slickster? How could she? More importantly, what did she do with the money that Mya gave her every week?
With the pangs of panic threatening to set in, Mya quickly took a breath to regain control. As if burying her mother today wasn’t enough, now this nonsense rears its ugly head.
“Then Mr. Caldwell I owe you nothing,” Mya said sternly, pushing the door to close it.
Mr. Caldwell pushed the door back and knocked her hand from it.
“No love, you don’t seem to understand. As long as your mother and I had our little arrangement, you could stay. Now that she’s gone… let’s just say that I will miss her. I never knew that a woman could do the things that your mother did with her mouth,” he chuckled.
Mya gasped, feeling instantly nauseous.
“As I was saying, as long as your mother supplied my needs, she had a place to stay. Now, if you want to continue staying in my house, you will have to pay the back rent. Six months I believe it is,” he told her, tapping his pointy chin.
“I don’t have that kind of money,” Mya shouted.
“Or maybe we could start an arrangement,” he suggested. “You are such a pretty little thing, with all that orange hair and them light eyes.” He reached out to touch her hair, and Mya flinched from his touch, almost gagging in the process.
“That will never happen, Mr. Caldwell,” she glared at him. “I’ll leave first!”
“Too bad… you don’t know what you’re missing,” he grinned. Your Mama used to enjoy it.”
Anger caused her body to tense defiantly.
“So you are refusing?”
“Mr. Caldwell, I’ll live in a cardboard box before I allow you to touch me.”
He shrugged his shoulders indifferently. “If that’s what you want missy, but you got two choices if you stay. You already know the first one, and if you won’t do that then I want $2,400 in back rent. Refuse and I will see you in court for eviction for failure to pay.”
“Is that all Mr. Caldwell?” Mya seethed.
Before he could utter another word, Mya closed the door in his face and leaned on it, listening to Mr. Caldwell laugh as he moved away. Exhaling a nervous breath, she looked at her watch. That sorry excuse for a landlord. Thanks to him wasting her time, if she didn’t leave now, she would be late for work. Rushing out the back door, she hopped on her bike, and took off for work.
Chapter 1
It was well past noon when she arrived home, and Mya was exhausted both physically and emotionally. She took off her coat before hanging it up, and then flopped down on the sofa with her arm thrown across her eyes.
“Oh Mama, what did you do with all that money that I gave you?” She muttered aloud, tears stinging behind her closed eyes lids. If she left here, where would she go, and especially since she didn’t have enough money to move to another place. Mama never once talked about her own side of the family, so even looking up long lost relatives wasn’t a possibility. Seems like the only ‘family’ she ever did talk about was Henry Trent, and all she ever did then was complain about him. Well family or no family, the only thing Mya was certain about was that she could no longer stay where she was.
Rising to her feet, having a thousand questions but no answers, she went to her mother’s bedroom and hesitated at the threshold of the door. As small as the place was, this was the only room in the apartment that was off limits to her and she never knew why, although she had entered it briefly to pick out a dress to bury her mother in. She pushed the door open and the room was exactly how her mother left it; bed unmade, as always, and a thick layer of clothing scattered around the room covering the carpeted floor. Taking a deep breath, she moved further into the room and looked around not knowing where to start. She looked in the closet stuffed with clothes, and on the shelf was a large cardboard box. She pulled it down. Pushing blankets and errant pieces of clothing aside, she placed the box on the bed and pulled open the flaps, finding papers inside. Closing it and pushing it away she sat on the side of the bed taking a moment to think, and then left the room returning with a box of garbage bags. She didn’t bother to look at the clothing; she just picked them up and stuffed them inside bags.
A few hours later, the room was clean from the ceiling to the floor, and an exhausted Mya sat quietly on the side of bed. She knew she would have to leave here soon and needed to come up with a plan, but the question was, where would she go? There was no way she could pay a back rent to that sleazy landlord, and she was pretty sure that she wouldn’t even if she could. It was settled then. She would have to leave. She would do as her mother had done many times in the past and slip away in the middle of the night. She would go to Little Rock. Mama had told her once that that was where she grew up, and maybe she still had family there. Mya pushed her hands through her hair. No, she couldn’t do that. If Mama wanted her to know about any family she had on her side, she would have told her about them. Maybe she could look up her father though. He was all Mama ever talked about even though none of the talk was good. Maybe he knew her family. But then again, Mama lied about everything; maybe even the things that she said about him were untrue. She could find the man that fathered her if only to see if the things that her mother said about him were true. She wished she knew more about him instead of just his name and the state where he lived, but she was all alone now. She needed to know if her father was still living if only to satisfy her own curiosity. More than that, deep inside her heart she needed to know why he never wanted her. So that was it. She would leave this place and find her father. With the two checks combined, she might have just enough money to go to Little Rock and stay for a little while, and then perhaps even find a real job in the big city. She didn’t have much to pack. What little clothing she owned, which consist of two pair of jeans, two sweatshirts, and a pair of sneakers and some underwear, would fit in her backpack.
Satisfied with the plan, Mya took another looked around the room. She forgot to check under the bed and got down on her knees. There she saw a couple pair of her mother’s old shoes and a small metal box too far underneath for her to reach. Lying flat on her stomach, she stretched until her fingers grabbed hold of the box and pulled it out. Curious about wha
t could be inside, Mya set the box on the bed, slowly lift the lid, and gasped as ones, fives, tens, twenties and a few one hundred dollar bills were inside, neatly stacked by denomination. Mya was shocked. Why was her mother hoarding money? More importantly, with the answer to all her problems neatly stacked and staring her in the face, why did that matter? With her hands trembling slightly, Mya counted the money, and to her surprise, there was well over five thousand dollars. She wanted to believe that Mama was saving this money just for her, but realistically she knew that that was just not true. It was enough to pay Mr. Caldwell off and then she could stay here. No wait… staying wasn’t part of the plan, but leaving was. She needed to leave this place and never look back, and besides, if she stayed Mr. Caldwell would constantly be at her door thinking he could treat her as he treated her mother, and that wasn’t about to happen. She put the money back in the box, and after giving the room one last look she turned off the light and shut the door.
Lying on the small couch that in a short while would be her bed on more, she sighed. Anxious and a little nervous, but excited about her new beginning, she had been up all night and needed to grab just a few minutes of sleep. She’d then pack her meager belongings, pick up her checks, and catch the bus to Little Rock, Arkansas. She gave thought to Mr. Caldwell for a brief second and hated to steal away as if she was guilty of something, but as far as she was concerned, it was like he said; he and her mother had an arrangement. Even though she found that arrangement to be a disgusting transaction, her mother had paid the debt it necessitated in full. As she lie there staring up at the ceiling, it dawned on Mya that after five years in this place there was not a single sentiment or loving memory to be found here for her, and with that thought in mind, she closed her eyes and fell into a fitful slumber.
After less than a month in Little Rock, Mya found not just one job, but had in fact found two jobs. Her main job was that of a label operator in a manufacturing company, and for her second she once again found employ in a fast food restaurant. She was able to find a small apartment within walking distance of both her jobs, and once she had settled in, she started researching the internet at the library for Henry Trent who, much to her surprise, was one of the wealthiest and most well respected African Americans in Little Rock. The few people that she spoke to about him sang his praises, but then again, why wouldn’t they? Not only did he own the largest architecture and building firm in Arkansas and was an upstanding leader in the community, but he was also involved in many African American outreach programs, and a leading contributor to the state.
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