Fifteen Years (31 page)

TWO IDENTICAL chairs had been pulled out into the center of the office space. Thomas sat in one, and Josiah occupied the other. From the moment the men entered the private quarters, the air became as thick as maple syrup. And the more Thomas talked, the denser the air became.

Josiah’s chair was positioned directly across from Thomas’s, and as Josiah listened, his tongue lay paralyzed in his mouth. Disbelief held him captive. He didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, scream, or all of the above. When Josiah had gotten the early morning call from Thomas, he’d prepared himself for a lecture. During the entire ride from the hotel in Stone Mountain, he tried to ready himself to hear both Joanne and Thomas give him a list of reasons why a romantic relationship with Patrice shouldn’t be pursued. He and Patrice had just had the discussion last night as they sat cuddled together on her living room sofa, locking and unlocking their
intertwined fingers and stealing frequent kisses. At one point, she even sang to him while stroking his shaven head as he lay in her lap. Josiah had never had a woman sing to him before. By the time she was finished, he was like Silly Putty.

When they weren’t kissing and she wasn’t singing, Patrice told Josiah how hesitant Thomas had been when she first confided in him about the exchange between them in Stone Mountain Park. According to Patrice, it didn’t take long for Thomas to come around and ultimately tell her the backstory of him and Joanne, but both Josiah and Patrice agreed that after having a few hours to let it all settle, their foster parents would probably come to the conclusion that what was good for the goose wasn’t good for the gander … or however that old saying went. They figured that their former foster parents would determine that it would be a mistake for Josiah and Patrice to capitalize on their growing romance.

As much as they longed for Thomas and Joanne’s blessings, they would move on with or without it. That was the conclusion that the new lovebirds had drawn, and it was the point that Josiah was all too ready to make loud and clear when Thomas walked him into his office space. But nothing had prepared Josiah to respond to what his ears were currently hearing. Not even the prayer that was sent up before their talk began.

“I know this is blindsiding you, son,” Thomas was saying, “and we really should have been smarter about it. We were trying to help, but it’s become painfully clear to me that we did more harm than good. Charge it to the head and not to the heart.” He pointed toward his temple, and then his chest. “We made a bad decision, but I promise you it was meant for good. All I can do is apologize for not telling you sooner. I know it’s not enough, but it’s all I can do at this point. I’d take it back if I could, but I can’t. At the time, we thought it was best that you not know.”

Who was this
we
that he kept referencing? Josiah’s head was pounding. He had to know who, in addition to Thomas, had dared to make such a crucial decision about a life that wasn’t their own. He resurrected his buried voice long enough to ask, “When you say we …?” He left the question open, knowing that Thomas was a smart man and would know to fill in the blanks.

“All of us.”

It was an around-the-way answer, but since they’d only spoken about four people since the conversation began, Josiah was well equipped to draw his own conclusion. He used his hands to massage his temples. They throbbed from the overload of information, but there was still more that he needed to know. And Thomas was the only one who could fill in the empty spaces.

During the lingering stillness, Thomas stood from his chair and walked across the floor with slumped shoulders and heavy footsteps. He stopped at a space beside his computer desk where an erect four-inch-tall wood carving of his fraternity’s Greek letters stood. He used his fingers to flick at a piece of debris that had somehow found its way near the base of the sculpture.

“Tell me about him.” Josiah broke the silence, and his request almost seemed to breathe new life back into Thomas.

He took quick steps to a small bookshelf and pulled out a photo album. He flipped it open, found the page he was looking for, and then extended the worn book toward Josiah. “If you had ever seen these pictures of Alton, you would have known that he was your dad. You got your height, your build, your smile, the hair you
used
to have on your head as a kid,” he paused to chuckle, “all of that came from my older brother.”

Josiah took the photo album and stared at the pictures. His father must have been barely out of his teens in them. He looked handsome and happy. In one picture, he was holding his hands out in front of
him as though he were telling the photographer not to snap the picture. Although the photo was a bit out of focus, Josiah could clearly see the scarring on the palm of his right hand. Patrice had shared with him Thomas’s story of the abuse, so there was no need to ask. He sighed and shook his head in silence.

All the things his mother had told him about his father were true. There really was an “Al” after all, and just like Reeva had said on many occasions, minus Josiah’s hazel eyes, he was the spitting image of his dad. Josiah felt like he owed Reeva a posthumous apology for all the times he’d called her a liar in his head … and sometimes out loud when she wasn’t around.

“Here. Take a look at this one.”

Thomas’s request unglued Josiah’s eyes from the page in the photo album, and he reached out his hand to accept the single photo that was being handed to him. When Josiah looked at it, unexpected tears pooled his eyes. Until now, he’d been too stunned to feel any real emotion about this huge missing puzzle piece of his life that he’d been given, but now he had to swallow hard to maintain control. He didn’t need Thomas to explain the photograph, but he did the honors anyway.

“I think this is the only picture Alton ever took with you. By the time he took that one, he was only a shell of the man he had been in years past. What years of guilt and heartbreak hadn’t taken away from him, drugs and booze had gladly accepted.” Thomas let out a grunt and sank back down in his chair. “In spite of the fact that Reeva and Alton were like doses of poison to one another’s lives, they loved each other.” Thomas’s countenance was listless. “I can’t tell you how many times I threatened to take legal measures to have you taken away from them. But I couldn’t do it. You were my brother’s pride and joy. He didn’t give you the love that you deserved because he didn’t know how to. He’d never been given
love by our father, so he didn’t know how to reciprocate.”

Tears were threatening Josiah’s eyes.
“You
did.” His tone was accusing. “You and your brother grew up in the same environment and went through the same turmoil. You turned out okay, so there’s no excuse for why he didn’t turn out okay too. You had the same mama, same daddy, same life. What was the difference?”

“I had Jesus,” Thomas stressed. “I got saved at age ten thanks to one of the foster families I lived with. Having Christ in my life at such a young age made all the difference in the world. I was just as big of a mess as Alton was when our family was scattered. When the rest of the siblings shunned him, I felt trapped, like I had to choose. And whatever choice I made, I was gonna lose somebody.

“Alton and I were closer in age than we were to our other siblings, and we shared the same bedroom for most of our childhood. We were like best friends and brothers all rolled up into one. When I made the decision not to expel him from my life, I lost my sisters and oldest brother forever. I never thought in a million years that when they said we were dead to them that it would be a hatred that would last a lifetime. I remember telling Alton that if we just gave them a little time, they’d come to realize that being taken away from our parents was the best thing for us in the long run.”

Josiah watched Thomas’s sunken posture. He’d never seen him look so distraught. While he had the chance, and while Thomas wasn’t looking, Josiah used his fingers to dab away water that was on the verge of leaking from his eyes.

“I was wrong,” Thomas said. “They never came around. They didn’t even come to Alton’s funeral when he died.”

“Did he die of a drug overdose?” Josiah wanted to know.

Shaking his head from side to side, Thomas asked, “Reeva never told you how he died?’

“Reeva… Mama never told me he was dead at all. All she ever
said was that the last time she and I saw him, I was five or six years old. I just assumed he skipped out on her. She never told me that he died.”

Thomas closed his eyes, and for a second, Josiah thought he was about to cry. Moments later, he opened them again. There were no showcasing tears, but the sadness he’d displayed for the vast majority of their conversation remained intact. “Poor thing. She never accepted his death. She didn’t come to the funeral either. She kept saying that the funeral home had somebody else in the casket; that it wasn’t her Al.”

“How did he die?” Josiah’s question still hadn’t been answered.

“Heart failure. Years of drug use had taken its toll on just about every organ in his body. Reeva called one day, screaming that he was dead. I rushed to their apartment and found my brother sprawled on the floor. He wasn’t dead, but he wasn’t conscious. He was transported to the hospital by ambulance and lived through the night, but by the next afternoon, he was gone.”

Josiah felt a sting of sorrow, like he suddenly wanted to mourn the loss of a man he’d never known. “He never regained consciousness?”

A faint smile crossed Thomas’s lips. “Yes. I was the only one in the room with him when he opened his eyes for the first time since his admittance. I called for the nurses and they came in and checked his vitals. Everything was barely readable, and although his eyes were open and he was able to respond, the prognosis didn’t change. When he was brought in, they said he had forty-eight hours tops. He barely made twenty-four.”

Josiah’s eyes followed Thomas when he stood from his chair again and began walking around the office. No matter where Thomas moved, he kept his back to Josiah, and Josiah was sure that he was shedding silent tears. He wondered if he should leave the
room for a minute to give him some privacy so that he could cry without being embarrassed, but Josiah wanted to hear more. He feared that if he left the room, the period on Thomas’s last sentence would become permanent. Thomas’s hands wiped over his face; then he turned around to face Josiah again.

“During those fleeting minutes that Alton was conscious, I tried desperately to witness to him. I knew it would take a miracle for him to live, so I focused on talking to him about Christ, so that even if he died, he would live eternally in heaven. I tried so hard.” Thomas’s voice cracked.

Josiah’s eyes were pooling again. His heart bled for his father’s lost soul.

Thomas regained some level of control and continued speaking. “He wouldn’t listen to me. All he wanted to talk about was you.”

“Me?” Josiah blinked away the tears.

“He made me promise not to have you taken away from Reeva. He kept saying that you would be the only thing that would keep her sober. Alton thought that as long as she knew she was responsible for your well-being, Reeva would do whatever it took to shake her drug habit and be a good mom. He blamed himself for turning her on to drugs in the first place. Said he was a bad influence and had destroyed her life just like he had the lives of all of his siblings.” Thomas wiped an obvious tear. “He thought his death would make life easier for everybody he knew. Alton honestly believed that after he was gone, Reeva would be okay.”

Josiah lowered his head. It all made sense now. Why his mother kept going into rehab. Why she kept coming back for him. Why she wouldn’t just give up her parental rights and let him live with the Smiths or some other stable family. She loved him. In spite of her endless shortcomings, Reeva Mae Tucker loved her son, and she’d
tried everything she could to be the mother he deserved.

As if he had read Josiah’s mind, Thomas said, “She tried everything but salvation.” He walked over and placed a firm grip on Josiah’s shoulders. “Jesus makes the difference, JT. It’s all about Jesus, don’t you understand that?” Thomas shifted his position so that he now stood in front of Josiah. He squatted in front of him, looked him square in his eyes and said, “There are people all over the world who have excellent parents, and they still go wayward, ruining their lives and the lives of everybody that they come in contact with. A father who is good makes
a
difference, yes. But a Father who is
God
makes
the
difference. I have Christ in my life, and that’s why I didn’t go the way of my brother. You have Him in your life, and that’s why you didn’t go the way of your mother. If they had just given their lives to the Lord, He would have given their stories an entirely different ending.”

Josiah took another look at the picture of him and his father that lay in his lap. The image became a blurry mess as the pools in his eyes overflowed. He buried his face in his hands and gave in to his tears. Josiah felt Thomas’s arms wrap around him and pull his face into his chest.

“I’m sorry, son. We should have been there for you.” It was apparent by Thomas’s broken voice that he was weeping too. “I’m so sorry.”