A Seal Upon Your Heart (21 page)

“This isn’t apartheid South Africa. And the days when blacks have to carry papers ended a long time ago-”

“Race?” Lewicki said in feigned innocence. “It was suspicious that a girl her age said that she was renting a house in this neighborhood-”

“And you felt the need to ask her that question because…why? Oh! She was acting suspiciously. Your superior can expect a call from me Monday morning.” Tim narrowed his eyes at the officer when he still didn’t retreat to his car and Martier tensed again. “You would be with District 47…That would be James McPherson. I actually have his number on speed dial.”

Lewicki quickly got into his car and sped away.  Martier slipped from his arms and crossed her arms in front of her, rubbing her elbows nervously.

“He didn’t put his hands on you did he?” Tim had to fight for control to even ask that question. Because if he had touched her…

“No.” She said quickly.

Tim let out a tense breath. He was so angry that she’d been treated in this way, and angry that she looked so hurt. He intended for Lewicki to pay dearly.

“Are you okay?”

She wouldn’t meet his look. “I’m okay.” She said simply then rubbed her elbows again. She didn’t look okay; far from it. She reached for the door. “I’m going to go inside. I’m kind of tired.”

“Yeah,” He said after a brief hesitation. “Goodnight, Martier.”

“Night.”

Then the door closed soundly behind her. Tim went back to his house. He went directly to his office and logged into the firm’s database. He retrieved the card he had. Officer Patrick Lewicki. He ran the name to see if he or his firm had ever had a case against him.

Martier locked the door. She went into the kitchen and locked that one as well. Then when she felt safe she stopped rubbing the goose bumps from her arms. She couldn’t stop shaking even though she was damp with sweat. She went upstairs and stripped out of her clothes to just underwear and climbed into bed where she shivered until she fell asleep.

CHAPTER 20

“
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” Martier made the sign of the cross and bowed her head. “Bless me father, for I have sinned. It has been three weeks since my last confession.”

“Why so long, child?”  Father Ashton asked.

It didn’t matter if she was behind a curtain. The priests at St. Francis knew her and all of the girls from St. Bartholoma.

“I moved out of the school.” Father Ashton waited. “And I was angry. I didn’t want to face the sisters.”

“I see. Go on.”

Martier confessed her sins which consisted of being envious of Dhakiya and Rodney, of having an inappropriate dream, of gluttony-

“Hold on,” The priest interrupted, “Inappropriate in what way?”

Martier squirmed on the hard bench. “I…I had a dream about my boss Tim.”

“Go on.”

Crap! She had hoped he’d let her get away without telling it. “I saw…in the dream, that is! He was,” she coughed and cleared her throat, “naked.”

“And what were you doing in this dream, child?”

“Oh.” Her face felt hot. “Well I was kissing him. But then I saw that he was naked and I became afraid and I woke up.”

“And that’s it?”

“Yes, father!” Basically. His man-parts had looked like a hairless rodent. She knew what man-parts looked like; she’d seen pictures. But her dream was very different than what she knew to be fact. And the father didn’t press. So she left out the part where she thought about Tim’s man-parts a lot. Father Ashton gave her an act of contrition which she did twice as many. And then he surprised her by seeking council with her.

“I’m concerned about you, Martier.”

“Me? Why, Father?”

“Sister Louise spoke to me about your dismissal from the school.” Martier looked at anything but him. “She feels guilty.” Her eyes darted to his quickly and he smiled. Father Ashton was as old as Sister Louise and she had known him almost as long. “Don’t worry, I’m not sharing her confession.” He began to pace as she continued sitting. “The sister thinks that you hate her.”

Martier didn’t respond for a long time. “I don’t know how I feel.”

“And then there is the matter of your living arrangements. You were raised in the church and you know right from wrong and what is expected of you.  Giving in to lust is a sin.”

She felt her face warming. “I understand, father.”  She met his eyes. She wanted him to see that she hadn’t crossed any lines.

“Good.”

She was happy to leave his office and immediately sought out Sister Black Mary. Though she was devoted to church, she had only come today for one reason and there wasn’t much time to linger. The sister’s had to return to the school to prepare breakfast.

She found the sister who smiled at her broadly. “I wondered if you’d keep with this church, especially when I didn’t see you after you moved out.” They hugged in greeting.

Martier hadn’t decided if she would stay with St. Francis. She had only come to confess and to speak to the African American nun. There were other blacks, of course. But she had always known Sister Black Mary.

“Sister. Something happened and I wanted to talk to you about it.”

“What child?” She took her out into the parish garden. The sun was just now beginning to rise. Martier had taken a cab because she was too afraid to walk to the bus stop while it was still night. She couldn’t imagine how she’d feel if she saw that police officer again.  It had cost her nearly $45 but she hadn’t complained.  The girl’s at the firm indicated that you don’t complain about how much things cost.

Martier took a deep breath and told her about what had happened with the police. She told the story slowly and didn’t leave out any pieces and in the middle of it the tears that she had tried not to allow to fall finally did and Sister Mary gripped her hand.

After she told the story and Martier’s tears had stopped, Sister Mary spoke. “What you feel right now-- that feeling as if you are less; less important, that you have less feelings, that you have less rights—well that’s what that policeman wants you to feel. Then it makes him feel as if he has more.”

Martier watched her intently, her eyes still watery.  “I feel…powerless. Like I had to shut up and take everything he said and did. And if Tim; my boss, hadn’t been there than he could have done anything he wanted.” Tears sprouted in her eyes again and spilled over. “I think that’s why I’m afraid.”

Sister Mary squeezed her hand lightly. “Martier, that won’t be the last time you face prejudice. There will be people that will treat you differently because of your color, your sex, your height, your beauty even your pretty accent. But you can’t let those people define you.”

Martier smiled and nodded as she wiped her tears. Then she leaned against Sister Mary’s shoulders and cried.

~***~

Tim knocked on Martier’s door to ask her if she wanted to go out for breakfast but she didn’t answer. He checked his watch. It wasn’t even eight o’clock. How could she not be home?!

He drove to have waffles without her.

Martier trudged up the walkway. The sun hadn’t caused the heat to sink in but she had walked from the bus stop and that was the reason that she was hot. She had decided not to give in to her fear and had taken the bus. And as she walked she became angry and decided that she would dare that officer to show his face and harass her again!

She looked at Tim’s house and thought about how good it had felt to have his arms holding her. She knew that she was safe when he did that. She decided to tell him how much she appreciated it. She knocked on the door and let herself in with the key.

“Tim? It’s Martier.”

When she didn’t get a response she headed for the kitchen and opened the garage door where she saw that he had already left. She went back to her house feeling disappointed. Tired, she curled up on the couch and allowed her mind to replay the way Tim’s arms had gone protectively around her body, and then she fell into a restful sleep.

Tim got home after breakfast and wondered if she was back, but didn’t check. He had no right to monitor her comings and goings. Jakob called and indicated that Elaina wanted to get together for a late dinner after the show. They had a 7:00 show and he decided that he didn’t care one way or the other.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Well, I want you to call Priscilla and let her know.”

“Eh? She’s your friend.”

“Yeah, but she’s your date.”

He sighed in annoyance and tried to remember where he had placed her phone number. “Fine.”

“Call her today, Tim.”

“Damnit Jakob, when will you butt out? You think I don’t know that this entire thing was a set up?”

“If it was,” Jakob said innocently, “I had no part in it. You’ve been out of the dating game for a long time. You’re supposed to call the lady periodically, remember?”

“I’m still not ready for this. Don’t push.”

“My hands are off the controls.”

“I’m coming in to the office tomorrow. I need to take care of some things.” The office was technically closed for the Memorial Day weekend but business hours meant little to attorneys, and several people would still be working.

He hung up the phone and then stalked to the kitchen angrily. He opened the back door and stormed across the yard. When he reached Martier’s house he knocked before he could change his mind. This time he heard movement and then her face appeared through the window.

She unlocked and opened the door.

“Are you going to stay cooped up in this house all day?” 

“What?” She rubbed her eyes and he saw that she had been sleeping. He blushed.

“I thought you might be hiding away because of…well what happened yesterday.”

“I went to mass.”

“Oh. Well, sorry if I woke you.” Now he felt like an ass.

“No, it’s okay. I stopped by the house to thank you for…you know. But you weren’t there.”

Tim watched the way her brown face seemed filled with the weight of the world where before it was filled with innocence. It broke his heart. He wanted to destroy that cop!

He swallowed away his anger. “It’s going to warm up pretty good. Do you want to swim later?”

She smiled and nodded. “And can we put on the rib? I mean unless you had too much yesterday-”

“No.” He said quickly. “We didn’t have ribs. My friends are Jewish; no pork. So I could really go for ribs about now.”

“I’ll get it ready and we can meet at about noon?”

“Sounds like a date!” Then he blushed in horror at his words.

“I’ll be over later.” Her dark eyes were like deep pools. Her nose sloped long toward narrow nostrils and then full lips. Even full, her lips were artfully shaped as if she was preparing to blow a kiss. Her cheekbones were high, her skin a perfect shade of burnished mahogany. Dark curls framed her face, some that had escaped her bun fell softly along the span of her slender neck.

“Bye.”

“Bye.” He said, still standing there. Then he finally remembered to leave. Back at the house he put on swim trunks and then pulled on an athletic shirt. He was not going to walk around with his gut showing; even though after a month of cardio his body was pretty damned impressive.  He would start adding weights. He thought fleetingly of Martier. Men with perfect bodies would one day be throwing themselves at her feet and he didn’t want her looking back on him thinking about the saggy white guy that she worked for.