Phillip desperately tried pushing his anger aside. “She won’t get away with it. I know—we’re not married. Maybe I have no rights. But a baby! Surely that gives me some rights!”
Opening the fridge door, he grabbed a beer and slammed it on the counter behind him. The images of a pregnant Kim flashed in his mind bringing back his rage. The same kind of rage that chaperoned him the three days he sat in that foxhole in Vietnam. He thought that part of his life was behind him, but Phillip was a dangerous man, a time bomb waiting for the right circumstances to set it off.
Leaning on the counter with both hands, he began to ball his hands into fists. He wanted to smash something, then he remembered there was whiskey in the cabinet underneath the counter. Without hesitation, he retrieved the bottle and began to pour himself a large glass of Wild Turkey.
“Why the hell is she going to give my child up for adoption?” He screamed into the air. “That’s my child! She doesn’t know who she is messing with.” He pointed his finger as if someone were taking part in the conversation with him.
His shirt caught the corner of a chair and he angrily ripped it off. He paced frantically around the room. A moment later, he blew out a deep breath in another attempt to pull himself together. Phillip knew it would take everything he had and all the anger management techniques that he had learned in order to cage the beast that lay within him. Reaching for his drink, he gulped down the liquor and felt the smooth burn it created in his throat.
“This is crazy as hell! This isn’t working. I’ve got to talk her out of this. I want my child!”
He soon realized that the alcohol and breathing techniques were failing to ease his pain—the torment he was unable to control. Phillip rushed to the back room returning with his Smith & Wesson 38. He poured himself another glass of Wild Turkey and the dark liquid overflowed the glass, just like his anger was pouring out over everything he knew now, but he did not care. He continued to pour even as the liquid puddled onto the floor. He threw the bottle against the wall, shattering it, then crashed down into his chair and began to rub the pistol.
“Fuck these bitches! I’ll make every one of them pay.”
DISAPPEARED
“Fuck these bitches! I’ll make them pay.”
Phillip meant every one of the seven words. The thought of taking revenge calmed and focused him, and gave him a sense of being in control, of having power. Power! That’s what Phillip was all about. Being in control. He gave no thought to regulating his own actions. What he wanted was control over others. He wanted respect, whether it was deserved or not. He wanted people to look up to him, to admire and revere him. And if that didn’t happen, he had no problem taking it by force. He had a king’s complex.
He would be patient as to how and when he would take action on them. He gave no thought to consequences or outcomes.
“Collateral damage,” he mumbled to no one, as he pictured his intended victims begging for his mercy. But there would be no mercy. He would see to that. He wanted everyone to suffer the way he was suffering. He wanted everyone to know that he had power. He would take what he wanted the same way he overpowered, intimidated and took what he wanted from his father’s gambling customers.
Kim had been warned about Phillip’s anger by everyone she met who knew him. The entire town felt he was a privileged, unaccountable adult that most women had learned to stay clear of regardless of how handsome he was. And even though she had not been the recipient of his anger, she knew that a whole town could not be exaggerating about his temper. Phillip was the bad boy by every definition of the word when it came to women. Kim was unclear about whether she simply enjoyed the thrill and excitement of the forbidden or if, at some point, she thought she could change him. But as the saying goes, "you can’t change a tiger’s stripes."
Their relationship had not been a bad one, but there were a few red flags over the sixteen months of what was clearly an affair. They had produced a child together, yet it wasn’t enough to make her want to continue the relationship with him. And she knew she couldn’t continue to live in the small town, especially if she was giving the child up for adoption. Her mind was made up; she was determined to return to Mississippi and repair her marriage.
That decision was made as she lay on the birthing table bringing Kennedy into the world. She looked at Mary who was holding her hand. She knew she had made the right decision and that God had put her and Mary together at the right time and in the right place. Keeping Kennedy would only serve as a constant reminder to her and Edward that she had had an illicit affair that had produced a child. She didn’t regret having the child, only the way in which she had received it. But she tried to remember that life’s path has many twists, and for Mary’s sake, she knew that the path she had traveled—the one that led her to Phillip and ultimately to Kennedy and Mary—was a matter of divine intervention. She knew it was right however wrong logic made it seem.
The placenta passed from her body after Kennedy’s tiny little body slid from her womb, and Kim cried louder than the baby. Mary held her hand tighter allowing her to release all the pain and stress she had bottled up over the course of the past year—Phillip, Edward, her marriage, her mother, the baby, abandoning her children—all the decisions, right or wrong, that led to this moment. All of it.
When the placenta passed, things suddenly became so clear to her. She wanted to start new—a fresh life with the family she already had. She wanted to be a better woman, wife, and mother. She wanted to be the kind of woman, like Mary, who could comfort someone else who was going through a tough time. She wanted to stop running from her race, her skin color, her identity, and start confronting her demons so she could live from a whole and complete place. That was the only way. Why hadn’t she seen it sooner? Before she got into this mess. But delivering Kennedy was a good thing. She did not consider the final outcome to be negative, even though the circumstances surrounding the event might have been.
And she also knew that this was not the end. There would still be a price to pay. And she would pay it without reservation, knowing that she had made these decisions of her own free will. Now the consequences were hers to deal with. She didn’t know what they would be, but she was ready to once again face the world with strength and courage, and with the friendship of Mary by her side to act as a mentor and guide during the tough times that were surely ahead of her.
The direction of her life was once again clear to her. She was okay with being a black woman, a black wife, and a black mother regardless of how white she looked or what she thought could be gained from her appearance. Two people were born that day: the baby Kennedy and a new Kim.
Shortly after Kennedy’s birth and the completion of the adoption, Kim quietly disappeared from town. Mary was delighted in her new role as a mother, but Phillip was furious. He would have his revenge.
“That bitch will not get away from me,” he vowed.
Kim’s disappearance led her back to Mississippi to try and reconcile with her husband. His forgiveness would not come easy. She prayed that her actions had not torn them too far apart; she prayed that her conquering her depression, postpartum and the birth of a child had not been too much. But she was prepared for his rejection. She had prepared herself in case he no longer wanted his wife and the mother of their children around. The hope of being the girl of his dreams was all she held on to; hopefully, it would be the one thing that could give the marriage a chance.
All the meetings and conversations with Mary during her pregnancy had taught Kim to have faith. No matter how bad the situation, regardless how dire things appeared, faith was the one thing that Kim now had. Her faith told her that Kennedy, the daughter she had given up for adoption, would have a good life. Her faith gave her peace that her decision to return to Mississippi to put her life back together with Edward and her family was the correct one.
Things were rough in the beginning. She had hurt him to his core. When she would try to talk with him, he gave her the cold shoulder. It w
as brutal for Kim and, she suspected, even more brutal for him. She felt alone in her own home. He continued in his routine of letting his mother take care of the kids and he went about his business as though she were not even there.
The days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months, and still things did not get easier for the couple. Their breakthrough came one day when Edward came home from work. It had been a long day for him, judging by the worn look on his face. Kim saw the strong crease between his eyebrows which was a sign he was stressed. As he walked in, she greeted him at the door like she had been doing since she returned. But this day was different. He took her hand in his this time instead of passing her by, leaving her empty and alone--abandoned. She felt the pain he must have felt all those long months without her in his home, in his arms, at his side. Devastatingly alone.
“Sit down. Let me help you relax.” Kim sat on the floor in front of Edward and began removing his shoes. She got a basin, filled it with water and Epsom salt, and brought it over to him. She gently placed his feet one by one into the warm water.
He sighed so loud the kids came peeking around the corner. She shooed them away. As he slouched down and rested his head on the back of the couch, she walked behind him to massage his neck and shoulders.
“Forgive me, Edward. In trying to find myself, I almost lost you and the kids,” she sighed almost as loud as he had. “You didn’t have to let me back in after all I’ve done to hurt you and this family. You are a good man, Edward. More than I deserve.”
She walked back in front of him and knelt at his feet. “Please forgive me, baby. I never meant to hurt you or the kids. I was foolish, ignorant and selfish. I love you so much. I just did not know what was happening to me. I…” Kim didn’t get to finish.
Edward sat up straight. He lifted her chin with his finger and looked her in the eyes. “You hurt me and the kids more than you’ll ever know. There is nothing you can do to take back all you did. But what’s done is done.” He took her hands in his. “But I forgive you because I love you.”
Edward loved Kim more than all his emotion; he had waited this long for her return. In spite of her leaving him with five children to raise for over a year on his own and returning after giving a child up for adoption - a child that was conceived out of adultery--he still loved and needed her. Their love was enough. It appeared that despite all that they had endured, they would make it. Things had become visibly clear that Kim’s postpartum depression, leaving her family and having an affair was not enough to destroy her marriage.
A month had gone by since their breakthrough moment, and everything had been going so much better for their family. Edward left for work that day with a skip in his step. But the joy Edward had that morning and afternoon ended once he returned home at the end of the workday. All the kids were in their rooms, and Kim was usually home at this time of day, at the door to greet him. But Kim was nowhere to be found. Nothing was out of place, other than Kim not being home.
“Where’s your mother?” he asked their oldest son, who was doing his homework at the kitchen table.
The boy looked up. “She left shortly after we got home from school. Some man came to the door, and she left soon after he did,” he said.
“What man? What did he look like?” Edward was now angry and a bit worried.
“I couldn’t get a good look at him, Daddy. I was in my room and heard his voice getting loud. By the time I came out, he was gone.”
His heart raced with fear, not with the idea of her leaving like before. This was a different type of fear; it was the fear that something was wrong. Kim had won back Edward’s trust. She assured him that she would tell him if there was ever going to be changes to her day or changes to her heart. His hands began to shake as he reached for the phone to report a missing person. Edward wondered what the police might think.
“They’re going to think she has run off again,” he spoke aloud as he picked up the phone. But he did not let that thought keep him from making the call.
Everyone in the small Mississippi town knew of Kim’s leaving her family, so it was certain that they would think that she had done it again. They did not know that she had changed, that she was determined to make her family and marriage succeed.
It was seven o’clock in the morning when the police knocked at the door. Edward had not slept one moment since calling them the previous evening. He had sat in the living room chair with the curtains open staring out the window with the hope that Kim would return, safe and unscathed. He had positioned himself with a clear vantage point to see the entire street in both directions, so he was very much aware when the cops turned onto his street. He prayed they were just passing through as they slowly drove up the street in the direction of his house.
Edward tried not to panic when the car stopped in front of his home. He hoped their presence was only a well-being check. He opened the door with the anticipation of saying he and his family were okay. He even started to say the words when he was interrupted. The officers delivered the news that no one wanted to receive. Kim was dead. Her body had been found on the train tracks just outside of town.
“Dead! What do you mean dead? What? How?” he cried.
Edward was grateful the kids were not home. He became overcome with fear as the officer told him the circumstances in which they’d found her and their suspicions about what might have happened to her. He called his dad asking him to pick up the kids. He rode in the police car to the coroner’s office to identify Kim’s body. In disbelief he stared at the body and looked over toward the sheriff and the coroner giving a quick nod to confirm that it was indeed Kim, the love of his life. The woman who had won his heart in high school. The woman who crushed his spirit when she left him. The woman who returned to him in a prayer and renewed her vows, declaring her undying devotion and love for him. Once again, his life was changed in a matter of a day.
The tears fell from his face as he stared at Kim’s body on the coroner’s table. He could not believe the direction in which his life had so quickly turned, a knife’s edge that cut him to the very heart of all he believed and wanted.
“Edward, I’m sorry for your loss. Forgive me, but I must ask you some questions. You stated that when you got home from work your wife was not there and the children were there alone?”
“That’s correct, Sheriff.”
“Well I’m going to need to speak with you further. Your wife’s death appears suspicious, Edward. There’s bruising to her neck, but we will know more once the coroner completes his autopsy.”
“Sheriff, my son said that she was upset after a man came to the door. They say they’d never seen him before, but he was angry. They heard raised voices.” Edward wiped a single tear that fell from his eye.
“That’s good information to know. Okay, I’ll be in touch with you. Again, I’m so sorry for your loss. I know what you’ve been through recently.”
*
Mary quietly sat in the last row in the church desperately trying not to bring attention to herself. On the front row sat Edward, his parents, and five children all dressed in black.
The small church was half full for Kim’s funeral. Some of the people cried and others stared aimlessly around the congregation attempting not to join in with the crying. It was not long before the pastor had said his fill; he had succeeded in shouting the crowd into a crying frenzy. It was a scene right out of the Southern Baptist funeral handbook. That repetitive, unimaginative format where the preacher gives a topic, has the congregation turn to a chapter in the Bible, read a few verses followed by thirty minutes of shouting that’s unrelated to the topic, only to somehow end it where he started.
Edward and his family stood in the reception line at the church entrance, in the lobby, patiently greeting and thanking everyone as they exited the church. He was numb with grief.
Halfway through, he noticed Mary sitting off to the side of the last bench. Once the line ceased and everyone had left the church, he slowly approached her
, rubbing his sweaty palms against the crease of his black slacks as he tried not to appear nervous.
“Mary, it’s my pleasure to finally meet you.” His voice was soft and low and trembled with his sorrow. He extended his hand toward her.
“The pleasure is mine. My condolences to you and your family.” Mary held back tears in vain, for she had become very fond of the young woman who had become her friend and the angel through which God had delivered His promise to her.
Edward could feel the tears starting to fill his eyes simply from their introduction. He had not shed a single tear during the sermon yet here he was, close to letting himself break down at the sight of Mary. He gathered himself just in time; he could see his mother rapidly approaching from the lobby where his dad and the kids waited. Without hesitation he positioned himself between Mary and his mother, shielding Mary from any questions his mother was sure to have for her.
“Edward, darling, please don’t be much longer. The children are getting restless.”
“I will be along with you guys in a few minutes.” He took both her hands in his, a mother’s sorrow for her child’s pain evident on her face. “Would you mind getting the kids into the car, Mother? Thank you. I just need a few more minutes.”
Once his mother retreated, he turned his attention back to Mary.
“I now understand why Kim did the things she did, and I think I’m okay with that. I even understand why she chose you to raise her child. If you are anything like she said you are, I will not contest the adoption. I will keep my promise to her.”
“Edward, Kim wanted the kids to know their sister so I’m hoping that we can arrange for them to spend the summers together.”
Beautiful Otherness Page 4
