The Veil

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The Veil Page 4

by K. T. Richey


  “Roger yo’ husband? You know who yo’ husband is.” She sat calmly at the table, looking at Misha as she began to cry again. She didn’t try to comfort her. She stood and retrieved a glass from the cabinet. Opening the refrigerator, she poured a glass of water and gave it to Misha.

  Misha took a small sip and set the glass on the table. “I love Roger. We talked about getting married but we can’t afford it now.”

  “He yo’ husband?” Her grandmother returned to her chair.

  “I love him.”

  “You not answering me. You know who yo’ husband is since you was a child. Now answer me, he yo’ husband? I’ll answer you. If he was, he be here supporting you ’stead of taking side of that man. He understand the gift and the purpose that God has for you. Now when you was a child, you had one name that you said was your husband, but when you found boys, you stopped talking ’bout him. You rememba?”

  Misha did remember his name: Matthew. She remembered talking about marrying Matthew and having children and living in a big house with pretty flowers all around it. She said he was a preacher and she was the elegant first lady who wore big hats and had a successful business. That’s all she talked about until she was about twelve. Dismissing him as a figment of a young girl’s imagination, she found real boys to be more appealing.

  “I know you remember. Now, I know it look hard now. What’s important is you learn what you supposed to do with the gift. Rememba, you can’t tell everybody about it. I may not understand everything you see and hear, but I do know that it comes from God and don’t you let nobody tell you no different.”

  She went into one of the cabinets and returned with a bottle of olive oil that she had her pastor bless. Covering the open bottle with two fingers she slowly tilted the oil until it touched her fingers. Then she made a symbol of the cross on Misha’s forehead and began to pray that God guide her through this process He was leading her into. Misha allowed herself to cry on her grandmother’s shoulder. This was where she found the most comfort, the most peace.

  Chapter 4

  Misha looked around her classroom at the church. She missed the children in her class. She looked at every paper hanging on the wall with the names of her students on them. It had been two weeks since Bishop kicked her out of the church and she still did not understand why. Roger had not spoken to her and surprisingly she felt okay with that. She only cried a couple of nights but it was not a sad cry; it felt more of a cleansing. She learned a long time ago not to waste time on people who did not support her. But, she still had her moments when she wanted to pick up the phone and call him to see if he wanted to go out to eat or something. Old habits die hard. For some reason, she felt her load was lightened.

  As she left the classroom, she noticed a hint of light peeking through the crack in the door of Bishop Moore’s office. Since the church was almost empty, it would be a good time to talk with him. Slowly she walked toward the office and knocked on the door. Bishop was sitting at his desk, writing something in a spiral notebook. When he saw her, his eyes grew large and he leaned back in his chair. Misha tried to read the expression on his face. It seemed blank, without emotion.

  “What are you doing here? I thought you understood you’re not welcome in our church,” Bishop Moore said to her.

  “I had some things to get out of my classroom.”

  “So you’re stealing from us?”

  “No, I left my jacket and a couple of personal items in the classroom.” She held out the jacket and small box filled with stencils she held in her hand so he could see what they were. “I saw your light on. Your secretary was not in. May I speak with you for a minute? I don’t understand what happened the other night and I would like to talk with you for a minute.”

  Bishop looked as if he was ready for a fight—his lips poked out and his jaws locked in position. He did not invite her to sit down. “I have an appointment coming in.”

  “I won’t be long,” she said as she remained standing in the doorway.

  “What do you want? Haven’t you done enough damage?”

  “That’s just it. I don’t know what happened. I came to you for help and you publicly embarrassed me by calling me out my name—accusing me of being a witch. How did you come to that conclusion? I have never practiced witchcraft. No one in my family who I know of practices witchcraft. I don’t know where you got that from.” She began to cry. “I gave my all to this church. When I wasn’t at school, I was here or doing things for this church and yet it seemed like it didn’t matter to you.”

  Bishop sat back in his chair and began swaying back and forth.

  “Bishop, what did I do to you? Whatever it was, please forgive me. I didn’t mean to say or do anything to hurt you or this church. I love this church. I don’t want to leave. And Roger, he won’t even speak to me. Was it about the woman and children?”

  “There you go again.” Bishop jumped up from his chair and walked to face her. “I don’t know where you heard those rumors, but you can’t fool me. I’m going to ask you nicely to leave this church, and if you come back again, I’m going to file a restraining order against you and have you arrested. Do you hear me?”

  “Misha, what are you doing here?” She heard Roger’s voice behind her. Her body stiffened as she turned to see him near her in the hallway. His eyes were puffy and his clothes were wrinkled. The smile he usually wore was absent. He slipped past her as if he was trying not to touch her as he walked into the office.

  “Bishop, Misha, what’s going on here? Misha, I didn’t know you would be here. Bishop, I thought we were talking alone.”

  “Roger, I just came by to get my stuff out of the classroom, that’s all. I’ve been trying to reach you. They said you have been calling in sick. Are you okay?”

  “I got your messages. I didn’t feel like talking. You hurt me.”

  “Hurt you? What did I do? You’re the one who told me to talk to Bishop in the first place. How can you say I hurt you?”

  “So, just like I suspected, you’re in on this too, Minister Williams?” Bishop interrupted.

  “No, Bishop. I didn’t tell her anything. What she did, she did on her own.”

  “Roger, how can you lie like that?” Misha yelled. “You told me to come and talk to Bishop. I wouldn’t have done it if you had not talked me into it.”

  Misha was stunned. This is not the Roger she knew. They had been together almost four years. He had been her rock. He was there to support her in all her efforts. She could count on him for anything—she thought. Of all people, he would never betray her. However, today, he was acting as if they never really knew each other. Her lips trembled as she tried to keep in the words she really wanted to say.

  “Roger, why are you doing this? I love you and you said you love me. Don’t do this to us. Don’t, Roger, please don’t.”

  Roger moved farther into the office and sat down in one of the big leather chairs, unable to look at Misha in the face. Misha watched as he sat in the chair, looking down at his hands clasped in his lap, and said nothing more.

  “Ms. Holloway, I’m going to ask you again to please leave,” Bishop said.

  “Roger, you’re going to sit there and not say anything? You’re going to let them treat me like this when you know I haven’t done anything wrong?”

  He didn’t answer her. He did not even look up. He acted as if he did not hear anything she said. She stared at him as if she stared long enough, he would turn around and talk to her.

  “Ms. Holloway, I’m trying to be nice.”

  Bishop didn’t need to tell her again. Misha ran from the office, her pulse racing as she picked up the pace to get to her car. The click of the door closing behind her only made her angrier. There was no telling what kind of lie Roger was there to tell. She gasped when she heard someone call her name before she reached the door. Turning, she saw a gray-haired lady come out the door of the main office.

  “Come into my office quick,” the lady said. It was Gertrude, Bishop’s lo
ng-time secretary. They entered into the office and she offered Misha a seat and handed her a Kleenex. “I can’t talk to you long. Pastor will fire me if he knew I spoke with you at all. I’ve been praying for you. It’s about time you found out about Roger. His head is so far up Bishop’s butt he could probably clean his intestines from the inside. He’ll believe anything Bishop tells him.”

  “I don’t want to talk about Roger.”

  “I understand. You’re hurt and it’ll take time to get over it. Count it all joy. It’s best you learned this before the two of you got married. I want you to know I believe you. I overheard what you said. I didn’t mean to pry, but the door was open and I sort of heard.”

  “You believe what?”

  “Everything. I want you to know I’m behind you. I’m trying to find another job. I’ve had enough of this.”

  “I’m angry and upset. But, I’m not going to talk about Bishop, the church, or Roger.” Misha wiped her eyes.

  “That’s because you have integrity. You’re one of the few here who do.”

  “I’m going. Thank you for the tissue.” Misha stood to leave the office. She knew better than to participate in church gossip. At this point, she didn’t believe she could trust anyone in this church.

  “Before you leave, let me encourage you. Everything covered will be uncovered. You just remember that. God will lead you where you need to go. Just continue to be obedient to what He tells you. You hear me?”

  “Yes. Thank you. I better leave. Bishop said he was going to call the police.”

  “He won’t do that. You take care of yourself. If you need anyone to talk to, give me a call. God bless you.” She hugged Misha. Gertrude peeped out into the hallway to see if anyone was coming before Misha entered it, and hugged her again before watching her exit through the door into the parking lot.

  Chapter 5

  “Turn over your test and begin,” Misha said to her class as they began taking the promised history test. She tried to get a jumpstart on grading the previous class’s test while she carefully monitored the classroom for anyone trying to cheat. She heard an unusual ruffle and looked up in time to see a girl pass a piece of paper to another girl in the classroom.

  “Bethany, can you bring me that piece of paper?” Misha requested.

  “What paper are you talking about? I’m not finished with my test yet.”

  “If you don’t bring me the paper that Amber just gave you, both of you will get an F on the test and a trip to the principal’s office for cheating.”

  Both girls let out a long sigh as Bethany walked to the front of the classroom with the folded paper in her hand as the class watched to see what would happen next. Misha took the paper and opened it. She laughed at what she saw. The note said:

  I really like Ms. Holloway’s outfit today. I wonder where she got it.

  Misha shook her head and thought that these two girls must have thought she was stupid. She had been warned while she was student teaching about this technique the students used if they ever got caught cheating. She knew there was another sheet of paper.

  “Bethany, I asked you for the paper Amber gave you.”

  “This is what Amber gave me,” she yelled. The other students stopped taking their test and looked at the two of them.

  “Amber, come to my desk and bring me the paper or gather your things and prepare to go to the principal’s office.”

  “I didn’t cheat!” Amber yelled.

  When she yelled, a cold chill went over Misha. What she heard was a call for help. She looked at Amber and saw a man, an older man, with his arms wrapped around her and Amber struggling to get free. She shook her head, trying to get the scene out of her mind.

  “Amber, what did you say?” Misha asked, coming to her senses.

  “I didn’t cheat. It was a phone number for this guy I know. That’s all. See? Here it is,” she said, running to the desk, handing Misha the folded paper.

  When she handed the paper to her, Misha saw the scene again. She sat at her desk with a blank stare on her face. She looked deeply into the brown eyes of Amber and she could see her life as clear as if it were a movie. What she saw frightened Misha.

  “Ms. Holloway? Ms. Holloway? Are you okay?” Bethany tapped Misha on the shoulder to get her attention.

  “What? I’m fine. You two go back and finish your test.”

  Both girls walked back to their desks and slightly laughed, thinking they got away with cheating. Misha knew they were cheating. But, there was something much larger going on with Amber and she knew it. She could feel it in her soul. She didn’t know what to do about it. Amber was one of the most popular girls in the school. She was a cheerleader, a member of the student government, and in the honor society and numerous other organizations. She even managed to volunteer at the local hospital. She was from a wealthy family and she had received numerous awards and scholarships to go to college and she was only a junior. Misha continued to stare at Amber until the end of the class.

  “Amber, can I see you?”

  “I didn’t cheat, Ms. Holloway,” Amber said, placing her test on the desk.

  Misha waited for the class to empty into the hallway and she closed and locked her door so the next class would not come in. There was a knock on the door and Misha told the students to wait outside.

  “Are you okay?” Misha asked.

  “I’m fine. I think I missed two on the test. I got a little confused about number six and fifteen. I think I did well though. I’m glad you put that extra credit question on the test. I really need it.”

  “How’s everything at home?” Misha sat at her desk, looking at Amber—her hair long and blond, her skin tanned from the tanning bed she had bragged about having at home.

  “At home? Everything’s great. We’re planning a trip to Aspen this Christmas. I can’t wait. I love going there.”

  “No, really. How are you? Has anyone been . . . been . . .”

  “Been what?”

  “Has anyone hurt you?”

  “Hurt me how?”

  Misha saw the curious look on her face and realized the young girl had no idea what she was talking about. “I want you to know you can talk to me about anything, okay?”

  “Sure, whatever. I’m going to be late for my next class. Can you give me a note?”

  Misha wrote Amber a note and allowed her next class to come into the classroom. After handing out the test to the next class, she settled in to grade papers, but she could not shake the feeling she had about Amber. What she saw in Amber’s eyes terrified her.

  At the end of the day, Misha decided to stay longer at the school to grade her papers from the day’s tests. She didn’t want to go home anyway. All she would do at home was think about Roger. She was still upset about everything he had done, or not done, since she spoke with Bishop Moore. Just as she started to get upset, there was a knock at her door. It was Principal Davis.

  “Ms. Holloway, is everything all right?” He noticed her wiping her eyes.

  “No, my eyes are strained from grading all these tests. I’m getting ready to leave in a few minutes though. Can I help you with anything?”

  “As a matter of fact you can. I’m still looking for people to help with the homecoming dance next week. Will you be able to do it? I could really use your help.”

  “I don’t have any plans. I guess I can help.”

  “Good. I’ll tell the homecoming committee you’ll be there. Try not to stay here too long. It’s the weekend and I’m sure you have plans with that boyfriend of yours; what’s his name?”

  “Roger.”

  “Yeah, Roger, that’s it.”

  “No, we don’t have any plans. Anyway, I’ll be out of here in a few minutes. You have a good weekend, Mr. Davis.”

  She watched as the principal walked out of her classroom. She could hear him talking to the janitor who had started buffing the hallway. The sound of the buffer would not allow her to concentrate on her work. She wasn’t looking forward to the w
eekend. She didn’t have Roger to spend time with, nor did she have a church to go to or have all the activities being in an active church involved. She didn’t know what she was going to do. At that point, she only wanted to go to the store, curl up with some ice cream, and allow the television to watch her.

  “Misha, you still here?” Judy peeped into her room.

  “I’m going now. I’m surprised you’re still here.”

  “I didn’t want to take any work home with me. My husband and I are going out of town to celebrate his promotion and leaving the kids with my mother. I stayed to grade some papers.”

  “Me too.”

  “Is anything wrong?”

  “No, nothing’s wrong.”

  “You sure? You don’t look right. You haven’t looked right in a while. You want to talk about it?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “Okay. Well, if you need someone to talk to I’m just down the hallway. But, if I can’t perk you up, maybe a look at that new soccer coach will do the trick. He’s a cutie. Lord, have mercy. God allowed me to be married for such a time as this. That man is fine and if I weren’t married . . .”

  “Don’t say it.”

  “You’re right. We both are happy in our relationships and nothing or no one is going to tear them apart. Right?”

  Misha didn’t respond. She pretended to be focused on packing her bag to leave. Judy looked at her and could see the tears well in Misha’s eyes. Then it came to her. “Oh, I’m sorry. Don’t tell me you two broke up. I’m here running my big mouth. What happened? I thought the two of you were in love.”

  Misha could no longer hold back her tears. She hadn’t talked to anyone about this except her grandmother. She thought Roger would be back by now. Her heart was now hurting so badly she couldn’t breathe. She held her chest and sat down in the chair, trying desperately to catch her breath. She had tried to be strong. Suddenly she felt it all come down on her. Misha was crying so hard it felt like she was sipping air through a straw.

 

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