Me, Myself and Him
Page 19
Chapter 32
“His receptionist had me laughing so hard, tears were falling from my eyes,” Hannah told Reggie as they sat in Chipotle’s having lunch. “Poor Drake thought she had done something wrong to me and that I was crying. You should have seen his face when he ran into the conference room and saw me wiping the tears from my eyes.” Hannah began to laugh as she reminisced about that day in Drake’s office.
Delilah had brought in some refreshments while Drake was in the bathroom praying. Out of nowhere, Delilah began telling Hannah some of the most embarrassing stories about Drake. Of course, Delilah was hoping to turn Hannah off from Drake and at the same time humiliate her boss, but Hannah found the stories quite amusing and cute. Especially the one about one of Drake’s clients thinking he was gay because he had never seen him with a woman or known him to have a girlfriend for all the years they had dealings with each other.
The client, beating around the bush and hoping Drake would read between the lines, invited him out for business cocktails. Turns out, the meeting spot Drake’s client invited him to happened to be a spot frequented by gays. Drake took what some might have seen as a bad and awkward situation, and turned it into good. One hour and two cranberry juices later, Drake found himself circled at his table and ministering to some of the homosexuals. He even invited one to his church, and eventually the man was delivered from homosexuality altogether. Of course, Drake lost the client’s business because the client was too embarrassed to ever face him again. He just happened to be one of Drake’s largest accounts. But in Drake’s mind, he might have lost some money, but he saved a soul.
“That sounds like some fine mess I’d find myself in,” Reggie said as he crunched on a tortilla chip. “Well, it sounds like that Drake sure does know how to turn lemons into lemonade.”
Hannah gazed off as she sipped her drink. “Yeah, he does.”
“Hello, Earth to Hannah. Earth to Hannah.”
“What?” She smiled mysteriously as she continued sipping on her drink.
Reggie simply shook his head and said, “Umph, umph, umph.”
“What?” Hannah demanded to know.
“You can try to fight it and deny it all you want, but cherry puddin’ cake, you’ve been bitten.” Reggie took a sip of his drink.
“Bitten?”
“Yes, bitten . . . and not just by any old bug.”
“You mean the love bug?”
“Nope, by something for more dangerous and deadly.” Reggie got in close and said in a serious whisper, “You’ve been bitten by the lust bug.”
After lunch with Reggie, Hannah headed to Fiesta so that Locksie could do her hair. During the entire drive there, she couldn’t help but think about what Reggie had said to her. Had she really been bitten by the lust bug? Was it possible that the thought of someone other than Elkan being attracted to her had her acting brand new? Could she be deliberately playing into it? Or even worse than that, was there a chance that she could act on it?
“Beep-beep!” The car behind Hannah, honking its horn to let her know that the red light had turned green, brought her out of her thoughts. She continued on to the salon, where she had to wait twenty minutes before Locksie could begin her hair. Fiesta was a walk-in only salon and didn’t take appointments, and when Hannah arrived, Locksie was finishing up another client’s hair. But as soon as Locksie got Hannah to the shampoo bowl, she gave her an earful on the current details of her and Dawson’s relationship.
“Girl,” Hannah said to Locksie, “did I hear you right? You’re not going to give that man no more puddin’ tang, ever?”
“Shhh,” Locksie said, putting her index finger over her lips. “You heard me right. No more fornicating for me,” Locksie said confidently, not backing down from her stand.
“But what if he cheats on you?”
“What if Dawson cheats on me?” Locksie snapped. “What if I cheat on God?”
Once Locksie realized that she had drawn the attention of a couple other stylists and customers, she cleared her throat and plastered on a fake smile.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you go off or nothing,” Hannah apologized. “It’s just that you been screwing Dawson for all these years, and now all of sudden you just wanna stop. And on top of that you want him to be okay with it?” Hannah sucked her teeth. “Girl, I wish I would try some mess like that with Elkan.”
“Well, you don’t have to. You and Elkan are married. He made an honest woman out of you.”
“Still, Locksie, I don’t know. Like I said, y’all been doing the do for this long . . .”
“Hannah, if I was a crack head deciding I didn’t want to use crack anymore, is that what you would be telling me? Well, you been doing crack for all these years and now all of a sudden you just wanna stop?”
Hannah thought about it for a moment and then sunk down in her chair as Locksie began to rinse her hair. “I guess I never looked at it that way.”
“Sit up,” Locksie ordered, wishing she had never brought it up.
“Okay, dang. Don’t take it out on me just because you ain’t getting any.” Hannah smiled. “Girl, I’m just joking. Don’t get mad.” Hannah held her hands up in defense. “I don’t want you burning my hair on purpose or nothing like that.”
“Girl, you crazy. You know I wouldn’t do that.” Locksie began to lather Hannah’s hair for a second wash and rinse. She watched the shampoo rinse down the drain as she silently prayed. Jesus, help me. Cleanse away my sins and give me control over my flesh so that I may not commit them again. Jesus, please help me.
Those were the only words Locksie could think to pray. Prayer was new to her. She hoped she was doing it right. She hoped that just simply crying out to Jesus was enough.
I hear you, daughter, God spoke.
Chapter 33
When Locksie rolled over and opened her eyes the clock read 8:22 A.M.
“Oh, my Lord,” Locksie said as she jumped up. “I forgot to set the daggone alarm again.”
That had been one of the perks of having Dawson lying next to her in bed. He had to be at work an hour before she even rolled over out of bed. She was a deep sleeper and sometimes never even heard him moving up and about in the mornings. So, once he had rolled out of bed, he would always re-set the alarm clock for her.
Locksie knew that she was going to be late for work today as she pulled off the covers. She did not want those girls standing outside the door waiting for her to unlock it so they could call the regional office first chance they got, trying to get her job. “Devil, you is a liar!” Locksie shouted to the air, determined to beat her co-workers to the salon.
She got out of the bed and headed toward the bathroom and then stopped in her tracks. “Aunt Mary,” she said out loud. “Let me call her and let her know I’m not going to make it over for coffee this morning.” Locksie quickly picked up the phone from its cradle and dialed Mary’s number.
“Aunt Mary,” Locksie said into the phone receiver after Mary picked up.
“Yeah, sweetie,” Mary responded, sounding a little groggy.
“You still ’sleep? You better get your tail up before you late to the rec.”
“That’s if I make it,” Mary said. “My throat is killing me. It started hurting last night.”
“That’s what you get for not keeping your butt under that dryer yesterday, running out of the salon with that wet hair.”
“I know, but I couldn’t be late for Bible study. You know, if we can be on time for when man wants us to be somewhere, we can sho’ nuff be on time for the Lord.” Mary coughed.
“You sound bad.”
“I know. I just took some medicine. The directions called for two tablets, but child, I took three. This vessel needs to be back up and working. We ministering in dance this Sunday and got practice this weekend.” Mary coughed again. “I’m about to go put on some water for some tea and see if that helps. I’ll still put on coffee for you, though.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay. That’s why I
was calling you. I’m running late this morning. I overslept. Unfortunately, I was late for Bible study. I had to clean up my station after you left. But it ended up going over anyway. Reverend Franklin got to preaching, we got to praising and then the Lord invited us into worship and we stayed there for I don’t know how long. It was awesome.”
“I know that’s right.” Mary coughed again.
“Well, you go on and make your tea and I hope you feel better. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
After hanging up the phone, Locksie got ready for work. She then grabbed her things, along with a couple of magazines she had purchased to place in the salon for clients to read, and headed out the door. Once in her car, she realized that she hadn’t said a formal word to God that morning.
“Dear Lord, I just want to thank you for waking me this morning and giving me breath. Thank You for allowing every limb on my body to still function. Thank You for giving me a job that I can be late to. Dear Lord, I just thank You for being You. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.”
And God don’t like quickies either. Locksie remembered her aunt’s words. Although she felt her prayers were becoming more heartfelt, she knew that God deserved more than a microwave prayer. She made a mental note to spend her lunch break praying in her car.
Locksie put on one of her favorite gospel CDs and headed for work. She was playing Tye Tribbet’s, “You’re Everything to Me,” so loud that she didn’t hear the sirens of the fire truck coming up one of the streets on her right. Locksie made it past the intersection by the skin on her nose. The car behind her obviously hadn’t heard the sirens either because the fire truck came inches from hitting it.
“Thank You, Jesus.” Locksie sighed after turning off the music, stopping her car close to the curb and witnessing the almost deadly collision behind her from her rearview mirror. Locksie looked around to make sure no more trucks followed. She then quickly pulled off. Locksie hoped to get a head start before the fire truck that had to wait for the stunned driver to move his car out of its way went back in motion again.
“See ya, Aunt Mary,” Locksie said as she passed the street she would have turned down to get to Mary’s house if she had been going over for coffee this morning. In the next few hours, Locksie would regret missing her morning cup of coffee with her aunt.
“Dawson, what are you doing here?” Locksie smiled as she looked up at the clock in the salon that read 12:15 P.M. Perhaps he was there to surprise her by taking her to lunch. Three weeks with him sleeping on the couch as punishment to her for not giving in to his sexual cravings had put a strain on their relationship. Locksie had no idea where the two of them were headed, but she prayed to God every day that He would order her steps and direct her path when it came to Dawson. Perhaps today God was speaking to her situation by having Dawson show up at the salon. Perhaps he had come to his senses and realized that what they shared, and being obedient to God, was more important than sex.
“Hey, baby.” Dawson’s tone was somber, his eyes unable to meet Locksie’s.
Her smile disappeared. “What is it?” Negative thoughts like Dawson coming there to tell her that he had found someone else crossed her mind.
“Locks, I, uh, was in the gym when the twelve o’clock news came on. I rushed here as soon as I saw it.”
All of a sudden Locksie’s spirit became very disturbed. Dawson was speaking, and with his words, visions began popping into Locksie’s head. She heard the siren. She saw the fire truck. Then everything rewound and she was having coffee while her aunt sipped tea. She saw the alarm clock that read 8:22 A.M. She saw herself placing the phone call to her aunt telling her that she wasn’t going to make it over that morning. Lastly, she saw herself driving by her aunt’s street waving good-bye.
“No,” was the only faint word that managed to escape from Locksie’s lips. “No,” she repeated, each time louder than the last. “NOOOOO!”
“Locksie, baby,” Dawson said as he tried to control his girlfriend, whose arms were flailing wildly out of control.
“Noooooo, not my auntie . . . Noooo . . . Noooo.” Locksie began to swing at Dawson and hit him, pounding on his chest. She hated him right now. She hated him for the cruel joke he was playing on her by telling her that her aunt was dead. “Liar! Liar!” she yelled. “I hate you! I hate you! Don’t you say that! Don’t you say that my aunt is dead.”
Dawson’s emotions couldn’t be described. Tears spilled from his eyes at the sight before him. Never had he seen Locksie in so much pain. It was a pain so sharp that when she touched him, it seemed to transfer into his body. He didn’t feel her punches and blows. He felt the anguish and pain Locksie released at hearing that her aunt had passed away.
“I’m sorry, Locksie. I’m sorry,” Dawson said as he continued to tousle with her until he was finally able to overpower her and lock her in a bear hug. “It’s going to be okay, baby,” he comforted her, kissing her atop her head as she fell limp in his arms.
It seemed like forever that Dawson stood there holding a weeping Locksie, who kept verbalizing that she didn’t understand why; why her aunt had been taken away from her. Dawson didn’t understand either, but he hoped that whoever this God was that his girlfriend had been chasing would provide her the answer.
Chapter 34
“All the guests are leaving. You sure you are going to be okay, sweetie?” Locksie’s mother touched her shoulder. “You sure you don’t want me to stay with you for a little while? I can see about taking off work.”
“Yeah, I’m sure, Mom. I’m going to be okay,” Locksie sniffed as she lay on her bed, resting her head on her tear-soaked pillow. “You go on and head back home.”
The fire responsible for Mary’s death actually wasn’t that bad; damaging mainly the kitchen, not the entire house. With her bedroom being right next to the kitchen, smoke had quickly filled Mary’s bedroom and that had caused her death. Locksie figured those pills Mary told her she was going to take probably kept her from hearing the smoke detectors going off.
Since Mary’s body had not been injured in the fire, she could have very well had an open casket funeral. But she had always voiced the fact that she didn’t want money wasted on some drawn out two-day mourning fest. She didn’t want family viewing her body, followed by a wake for the public, a funeral service and then a burial. She definitely didn’t want the KFC bucket-toting mourners coming back to the church afterwards to continue mourning over an original recipe leg and thigh. Locksie granted her aunt’s wishes by arranging for a cremation and a brief memorial service.
It was short, sweet, simple and memorable. The Baptist Saints Tabernacle praise dancers danced to Psalm 23 as a vocalist sang the words. The pastor read the obituary while a couple of church members said a few kind words. Hannah and Elkan were unable to attend because they were on a week-long cruise that they had scheduled almost a year ago, but they did send some lovely flowers.
After the memorial service, a few mourners stopped by Locksie and Dawson’s place. Now that the handful of guests were departing, Dawson, Locksie and her mother were the only ones remaining in the house.
“Yes, child, God is surely going to keep you now,” Martha said.
Locksie put her hand up. “Not now, Ma. I don’t want to hear nothing about God right now.” Locksie’s tone was laced with anger. As a matter of fact, she had been feeling nothing but anger since hearing of her aunt’s death. She was angry at God. She was angry at her aunt for leading her to this God who would do something so cruel as to take her aunt away from her.
Locksie’s mother slowly removed her hand from Locksie’s shoulder. “But, honey, Mary told me that you had been getting quite close to God lately. She said you found you a nice church home and everything.”
Locksie sat up. “When did you talk to her?”
Martha chuckled as if Locksie’s question was far-fetched. “I always talked to her. Well, not always. At least twice a month, though. A few months ago, when she called to tell me about you, we st
arted talking a little more.”
“Hmm. She never mentioned it to me.”
“Why should she have?”
“Well, as far as I was concerned, you two were sort of . . . I don’t know . . . estranged. Just not as close as one might think two sisters ought to be.”
“Well, some might say the same about you and me. That we’re not as close as one might think mother and daughter ought to be.”
Locksie cleared her throat and lay back down, defeated by her mother’s comeback.
“Anyway, baby, I know how you must feel right now, being a babe in Christ and all, you don’t under—”
“Ma, don’t. There is no time length that I have to be a Christian . . . or to know God . . . to know that this whole religion thing is a joke. It’s like, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say the devil had something to do with tricking me into thinking that God was good—that He was real. Well, I see now that He’s no more real than when you used to drag me from church to church looking for Him.” Locksie sat up. “Is that what you were doing, Ma? Church-hopping, looking for God? Well, I get it now. I get it now, Ma, and I’m not going to get tricked the same way you did. I almost got caught up, but not now.”
“Honey . . .” Martha reached for her daughter, but Locksie jerked away.
“No, Ma. Please, go. Just go. I know you want to sit here and tell me that God has His reasons for taking Aunt Mary, for taking my best friend from me, but there is no reason in the world I can comprehend. God’s a joke!”
As Locksie’s mother’s eyes watered, she had no words for her daughter, so she did the only thing she knew how. She began to pray. “Heavenly Father, I just ask that You send the comforter right now to caress and keep Locksie during this time of mourning, and God, that you—”
“Stop it, Ma!” Locksie cried. “What part didn’t you understand? I don’t need you here right now, and I sure don’t need you summoning down some man in the sky you’ve been chasing all your life. I’m surprised you haven’t chased him away like you chased Daddy aw—”