Keyshia and Clyde (15 page)

Keyshia shook her head and said, “So?”

“Every time Martha used to tell us stories about her and my mother in they younger days, she said that that's what they used to say to each other.”

“So, you saying this to say what?”

“I'm saying that my father said that Martha never liked them together and that we shouldn't trust her because she was sneaky and no good.”

“And you believe him?”

“Keyshia, she is sneaky and no good—that's the point. Ceasar said that about her, like he knew something we didn't.”

Keyshia nodded. “Baby, I understand, but I'm still gonna do what I have to do.”

Chapter 26
_______________

The country air in Charleston was fresh, clean, and crisp when they checked out of their motel room. Keyshia felt rejuvenated as the heat from the sun bathed her skin, something she hadn't realized she'd missed. Clyde, on the other hand, wasn't as used to the heat and cringed at the thought of staying outdoors too long.

Keyshia felt a surge of energy with each familiar sight that they drove past: the stores, the schools, the gas station, and the church. Keyshia didn't want to waste any time in completing her mission for fear that Clyde would try to talk her out of it. Keyshia's body flinched when she spotted the small dilapidated church where she had been molested. She gripped the weapon she held in her hand for a sense of security. Clyde stared at her, sure that she was ready to do what she set out to do with vengeance. She was ready. A late-model car was parked in front of the church, so Clyde drove around to the back and stopped.

When they parked, Keyshia looked intensely at the old church as if she were in another space and time as her mind raced with each passing second. Clyde touched her hand in support, but she recoiled, snapping out of her deepest thoughts.

“You sure you ready?” Clyde asked with concern.

Keyshia inhaled quickly, nodded, and placed the weapon in her handbag. They exited the car, and Clyde looked around. The area was quiet, and not a soul was around. When they entered the church, it was dark and humid, and the only signs of life were the flickering candles peppered throughout. They walked toward the front of the church, and were startled when they heard a voice behind them.

“Can I help you?” They turned and saw a man wearing a robe and grasping a Bible. Clyde looked at Keyshia and saw the glint in her eyes and watched her clutch her bag close to her and reach for the gun. Clyde had his head down as he walked slowly behind her, and once again the man asked, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Keyshia picked up her pace and walked directly up to the man, then stopped when she saw his face. It wasn't him. Both Clyde and Keyshia let out a breath.

“Don't let me disturb you in your prayer,” said the pastor.

Keyshia recovered quickly and said, “Thank you. Me and my family grew up in this town, and I used to attend this church when I was younger.”

The pastor smiled. “Welcome home.”

She nodded and continued, “Well, back then our pastor was Pastor Green. Is he still here?”

The pastor put his head down immediately and cleared his throat. “I'm sorry, my dear, but Pastor Green is no longer with our church.”

Keyshia hid her disappointment and kept smiling. “Oh, that's too bad, I really wanted to see him.”

The pastor looked at Keyshia more closely. “If you don't mind, can I ask you the reason you would like to see Pastor Green?”

“Like I said”—Keyshia smiled—“he was my pastor since I was a little girl.”

The pastor began to look her over and then at Clyde and asked suspiciously, “I'm sorry, I didn't get your name.”

Without missing a beat, Keyshia quickly extended her hand and answered, “My name is Debra . . . Debra Washington, and this is my brother Darrell.”

The pastor smiled and said, “And I'm Pastor Wyatt T. Baker.” There was a moment of silence until the pastor cleared his throat and spoke seriously. He nodded uneasily and rubbed his chin. He put his hand on Keyshia's small shoulders and asked, “Young lady, may I ask you a question?” Keyshia nodded. The pastor said, “To be quite honest with you, Pastor Green was removed from this church three years ago because of some horrible acts that he forced upon some vulnerable church members, mainly children.” Keyshia's face showed nothing as she listened to the pastor.

“Many of these deplorable acts went on unnoticed for years, until the family of one of his victims insisted on justice being served. He was finally arrested for the act and brought to justice and had a trial. It is unfortunate, but Pastor Green was a very popular person and this is a small county and everyone knew one another. He was found not guilty by his peers, but not by the board of directors here at the church, and he has since been removed.”

Both the pastor and Keyshia stared at each other for a moment, but she remained silent.

“Over these last few years, many young victims, all young girls, have been coming forth and expressing that they, too, had in fact been a victim of Pastor Green's sick acts, but no one had the courage to bring him to justice again for fear of being outcast.” The pastor gave Keyshia an earnest and sincere fatherly look. “Were you one of the pastor's victims who was caused great pain?”

Keyshia's smile grew faint and she said, “No,” as she shook her head.

The pastor gazed at her a little longer and smiled. “Good . . . good.” He took a deep breath. “I'm sorry I had to tell you the bad news, but I'm sure you can understand my asking.”

Keyshia nodded and said that she understood. She and Clyde shook the pastor's hand and thanked him for his time. Keyshia suddenly wanted to leave the church, and she walked out as fast as she could. When she got outside she bent over and started vomiting. Clyde helped her steady herself. When she finished, her eyes were bloodshot and her jaw was clenched as she said to Clyde, “Let's go to that motherfucka's house!”

When they entered the well-maintained, tree-lined neighborhood, Keyshia recognized the former pastor's modest white colonial home and pointed it out to Clyde. Clyde made a U-turn at the end of the block and parked across the street from the house. They stared at the home for quite a while until Clyde finally asked Keyshia, “Keysh, you don't have to go through with this if you don't want to. The pastor seemed to be saying that you could still bring him to justice and they would believe you now since it's in the open.”

Keyshia shook her head. “No, this is something I got to do.” Clyde felt torn, but he would stand by her no matter what. “Okay,” he said softly.

Keyshia got out of the car, and Clyde was right behind her. Keyshia's eyes were set on the house, and Clyde's quickly surveyed the entire area. As they stood at the door, Keyshia pulled out the weapon from her bag. She looked at Clyde and warned him, “Clyde, no matter what happens, let me handle everything, okay?”

Clyde watched her grip the Glock 9-mm, nodded, and offered one thing: “Remember, your mind is your nine.” Keyshia was ready to confront the man who had caused her so much suffering and pain. The man who'd stolen her innocence, who had ensured that she would never have any more kids, and ultimately, the man who had taken from her the most precious thing on earth—her only child. Clyde played his position on the side of the door, and Keyshia took a huge breath and then knocked as she held the gun behind her back. Seconds later the door swung open and Keyshia stood face-to-face with the man who had molested and impregnated her over six years ago.

“Yes, can I help you?” the man said in a thick country accent. Keyshia froze and stared at him through her Chanel sunglasses. The man smiled again and repeated, “Yes, can I help you, young lady?” Clyde stood menacingly on the side, unsure how Keyshia would react. Suddenly, she lifted the ugly black weapon straight to his face and pushed him inside. Terror filled the man as Clyde appeared from the side, causing him to throw his hands in the air and plead for reasoning.

“What is this about? I think you got the wrong place.” He jumped when he heard the door slam loudly behind Clyde, who produced his own weapon, causing him to tremble.

“Please, young lady,” he pleaded to Keyshia, “you got the wrong man, I tell you. I'm a pastor and—”

Keyshia cut him off. “Look at me!”

His eyes widened as Clyde approached both of them. “Wha . . . what?” he stammered.

Keyshia cocked the weapon back and repeated, “Mother-fucka, I said look at me!”

He turned toward his intruder's face, squinting his eyes to recognize her. Slowly, Keyshia took off her sunglasses, revealing her tear-ridden face. It took him seconds to recognize her. “Oh, my God,” the man gasped as he lost his balance and fell to the floor.

“Don't ask for God now, motherfucka!” said Keyshia with vengeance. “You didn't ask for Him when you were between my fucking legs, did you, motherfucka?” She suddenly unleashed a brutal kick to the man's face, causing him to cower in pain. Keyshia continued to kick him with everything she had. “Did you call on God when you tore my fucking insides up, motherfucka?”

The former pastor curled himself in a ball to protect his face, and Clyde walked up to him and pointed the weapon at him and kicked him viciously. “Sit the fuck up, you son of a bitch!”

Keyshia shook her head and cried, “No, I got this!” She wiped her tear-soaked eyes and said to him, “Do you really have a clue about what you did to me? Do you know what you took from me?”

“I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry!”

Keyshia kicked him again. “Was you sorry when I begged you to get off top of me? Was you sorry when you got me sent out of town for the shit you did? Was you sorry when they took my baby from me?” She grew angrier with each passing second.

“Please, the baby—”

“Shut the fuck up!” This time Keyshia slapped him viciously across the face with the weapon. A million things raced through her mind as she stared down at the man cringing in pain from the sickening blow she delivered to him. Clyde saw the glint in her eye and knew it was over for the man, and deservedly so, but he couldn't help but wish it hadn't had to go down like this. He wanted better for her.

“You fucked my whole life up, is what you did!” Tears continued to fall from her eyes as she aimed the gun at him, ready to end his life.

“And . . . I'm here to make sure that you pay for this shit!” She took aim and screamed, “I'll see you in hell, motherfucka!”

Suddenly, a pretty young girl about five years old came running into the living room, screaming, “Don't hurt my daddy! Don't hurt my daddy!”

Both Keyshia and Clyde immediately put their weapons behind their backs and watched the beautiful little girl wrap her tiny arms around her father and fall to the floor to protect him. Keyshia's eyes began to blink rapidly as she saw a faint similarity in the little girl's face and frightened eyes. Then she gasped, turned, and ran out the door and didn't stop till she got to the car. Clyde was right behind just as she nearly collapsed in the street and had to be carried to the car. He started the engine and took off.

Keyshia cried and cried through the rest of the night.
Could it be?

Chapter 27
_______________

Keyshia could not hold any food down and refused to get out of the motel bed over the next two gloomy days. Clyde tried to get her up and about, maybe to go visit her relatives, but she didn't have an ounce of strength to move. Seeing her daughter was just too much for her to handle, especially with him. Never in a million years would she have thought that she would ever see her daughter again.

Clyde waited on her hand and foot, giving her massages, feeding her soup, and even carrying her to the bathroom and bathing her. He constantly asked her if she wanted to talk, but she told him that she wasn't ready.

To keep her mind off the events that had transpired, Keyshia sought refuge in
Harlem Girl Lost.
The more she read, the more she began to grow inspired as the main character in the book went through insurmountable pain and injustice yet rose to the occasion again and again. By the time she completed the novel, the first one she'd ever read, Keyshia seemed to have purpose, a new meaning to life despite what she'd been through.

By the third morning, when Clyde awoke, he was surprised to see Keyshia standing over him, smiling and dressed to a T. “Get up, sleepyhead, we got some shopping to do and some family to see.”

Clyde chuckled and said, “Glad to see you back, baby.”

Since Keyshia was the oldest—she had four younger brothers and one sister she hadn't seen in over six years—she wanted to go shopping at the mall and surprise them and her mother with gifts. She racked up on video games, toys, basketballs, and other sporting goods for all her brothers, and dolls, a CD player, and various games for her sister. For her mother, she bought some expensive perfume and jewelry. After they'd purchased everything, she was ready to see them.

Even though the area in which Keyshia's family lived was considered the city, Clyde couldn't help but think differently. He passed by many homes that still had outhouses, and many of the children were tattered-looking and outside playing barefoot. Keyshia assured him that many children in the South chose not to wear shoes when they were playing. He had to also get used to all the people who waved and said hello to him as he drove. Keyshia had to explain that this was traditional and everyone was being friendly.

“Goddamn, Keyshia, I ain't used to all this waving.”

“That's just that southern hospitality.” Keyshia smiled.

“I mean, they don't even know me and—” Someone pulled up to Clyde at the stop sign and suddenly waved. With a fake smile, Clyde waved back at them. “See what I mean? If they did this shit in New York, people would give them the finger.”

Keyshia laughed. “Well, get used to it, buddy, 'cause this how they get down in the South.”

When they finally reached Keyshia's family's home, there was no driveway or anything. It was a shabby-looking house that sat on a plot of grass surrounded by thick vine oak trees. The area was nothing like downtown Charleston; it was more backwoods and open. Clyde knew that her family was dirt poor. Keyshia looked around nervously, not spotting a soul, when suddenly a little black face appeared at the screen door. He had on a pair of shorts but no shirt or shoes.

Keyshia smiled and put a hand over her mouth. “Oh, my God, Clyde, that's my youngest brother, Damon.”

As soon as she said that, another boy, much older, rail thin, and tall, peered out the door, but this time opening it. He squinted and put his hand over his eyes to see who was in the car. Keyshia opened the car door and stood face-to-face with her closest brother, who was only eleven months younger than she. He recognized her instantly and asked in a thick southern drawl, “Keyshia?”

Keyshia nodded and said, “Kevin?”

He yelled at the top of his lungs and jumped off the porch and embraced her tightly and swung her around. The loud commotion caused everyone in the house to come outside, and when they realized who it was, they began yelling also and running up to her and giving her tight-wrapped love. All her siblings jumped all around, as jubilant as if she had just come home from the war, all calling out her name.

“Keyshia!”

“Sister, welcome home!”

“We missed you!”

The last person to come out was her mother, who had one arm wrapped around herself and the other one covering her mouth. She was already emotional. Keyshia looked up and saw her and walked to the porch and up the three steps. She stood face-to-face with her mother, who was now much, much shorter than she, saw the tears in her eyes, and said, “How you doin', Mama?”

Her mother's lips began to tremble, and tears exploded from her eyes. “I's okay, chile. I's miss you much!”

They embraced, and Keyshia closed her eyes, feeling for the first time in six years the comfort only a mother can give. The whole family came to the porch and surrounded them and joined the family reunion hug. They wiped their eyes and laughed heartily as they pulled themselves apart. Keyshia turned around and waved for Clyde to come over. He walked up the steps with a cool New York swagger, and they all beamed bright and proud at their sister's guest.

“Everybody, I want you to meet my boyfriend, Clyde Barker.” Everybody submerged him and gave him equal love. Keyshia looked at all the faces and said with great pride, “Guess what?” All eyes lit up like a Christmas tree in anticipation. “I got gifts for each and every one of y'all.” They all jumped up and down joyously, making the porch feel like it would collapse.

“The stuff is in the car, and all I need is help.” Each sibling jumped off the porch and ran toward the car, waiting for their early Christmas presents.

Keyshia watched her brothers and sisters tear through the bags and scream with excitement. She personally handed her mother a white box.

As her mother held the box, she blushed and said, “You's got this fo' me?”

Keyshia nodded proudly. “It's for you, Mama. Now open it.”

Like a little girl, she blushed again and untied the red ribbon around the box. When she lifted the cover and saw a gold necklace with a cross pendant, her hand flew over her mouth. She repeated, “Dis fo' me?”

Keyshia nodded again. “It's all for you, Mama! Let me help you try it on.” She fastened the necklace around her mother's neck. Her mother looked down at the necklace and felt it. She giggled and thanked her daughter with a hug. They stared at each other, and both knew that a lot of wrongs had to be answered for, but now was not the time.

Her mother's smile grew big and she said to Keyshia and Clyde, “I's hope you all ain't eaten none, 'cause I's 'bout to feeds y'all a sho-nuff hearty meal ta fill them bones you carryin'.” She wrapped her arms around Keyshia and Clyde and led them inside.

Clyde was surprised when he entered Keyshia's family's home. Though it looked small and dilapidated on the outside, inside it was spacious, clean, and well maintained. While Keyshia, her mother, and her little sister were in the kitchen preparing the meal, the brothers were in the living room showing Clyde the family photo album. He saw pictures of Keyshia when she was in her newborn, toddler, and preteen years. They all got a kick out of showing Clyde their sister at her best and worst.

It was as if Keyshia had never left as she fell right in step with her mother and they busied themselves inside the kitchen. They made homemade biscuits, fresh ham, sausages, bacon, pancakes, eggs, and grits. The entire family got a kick out of watching Clyde's reaction when their mother brought all the food over to the table. Clyde had never seen so much food before. Keyshia told him that this was how they cooked in the South whenever someone had a guest or family over. She said it was a tradition.

When all the food was set up on the table, they joined hands and were led in grace by Keyshia's mother.

“Lawd, thank You fo' blessin' us wit' this food we 'bout ta receive, fo' You are the Provida of our ration. I's also likes ta thank Ya fo' bringin' my baby gurl back ta me spite the hardness I's know she been through and not comin' back with a heavy heart. Bless her mista friend, Clyde, and hope that they stay awhile.” Keyshia and Clyde peeked at each other, knowing she was giving them a hint. “Amen!”

Everyone repeated, “Amen,” and ambushed the food before them.

They ate and had fun talking about the past and telling Clyde how Keyshia was a tomboy coming up and how she was so skinny the called her Olive Oyl from the
Popeye
cartoon.

All through the meal, Keyshia's little sister, Kenya, eleven years old, was eyeing and smiling at Clyde. She suddenly asked him, “Clyde, are you gon' marry my sista?”

The question caught Clyde totally off guard. Everyone got real quiet and awaited an answer.

Clyde cleared his throat and said, “Kenya, me and your sister never talked about marriage. Us bein' so young and all.” They hung on every word he was saying because they were very big on marriage in the South. Clyde saw all the eyes still staring and added, “But when the time is right, I'm gonna find the biggest, most expensive ring I can afford, then I'm gonna bring her back down here, in front of her whole family, and get on my knees.” Clyde looked at Keyshia, who sat across from him.

“And I will ask the loveliest, most gorgeous woman in the world, the only woman that I ever loved, would she have my hand in marriage so I can spend the rest of my life with her.”

Everybody turned their attention to Keyshia, who was ready to erupt in tears of happiness; she couldn't hold them back and ran out of the kitchen.

All her brothers laughed, and their mother reprimanded them, “You boys hush!” She threw her napkin on the table and followed behind her daughter.

Kenya stared at Clyde and said, “Well, she look like she don't want to marry you, Clyde, but I will!”

“Shut up!” all her brothers yelled in unison.