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Instinctively Jenise had known that God did not approve of Reggie constantly punching, hitting, and slapping her, but she felt grateful to have actual scripture references to support that belief.
Another young woman who Jenise guessed was about her age raised her hand to speak. She also guessed that the woman weighed around 250 pounds. She told the group her name was Harmony; then she told her story.
“My husband and I were married for ten years, and we had three children. We had a beautiful four-bedroom home, a nice car, and an abundance of material things. Most people thought we were living the American dream, but I lived in an abusive relationship for most of that time. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't all bad. We had some good and even some great times. Often we could go months without an incident, but I still spent most days feeling afraid and apprehensive.
“After the first few times I learned the signs when it was coming. I could tell by the sound of his voice or the way he looked at me that an attack was about to happen.
“One time he punched my coworker right in the face because she gave me rides to work when he wouldn't. He told her if she ever came near me again, he'd kill us both. She had him arrested, but by dinnertime he was back home blaming me for it and knocking me around the kitchen.
“I grew up in a Christian home and believed that God could solve any problem, so the family joined a church together. We attended regularly, and he even became an usher. I foolishly believed that would be the end of our issues, but it wasn't. He'd get angry at me for putting too much money in the collection plate or coming home late from choir rehearsal. Once he even accused me of making eyes at the pastor during his sermon. I've taken many beatings as a result of trying to be involved with my church family.
“Finally, I moved into a shelter, and I filed a restraining order against him. The next thing I knew, I became an instant outcast among my church members. No one could believe that as big as I am any man could hit me and get away with it. My pastor called me and told me that I needed to get into joint counseling with my husband and learn how to forgive him. He told me that men have lots of pressures and that as the nurturer, it was my responsibility to ease those pressures and fix things. He told me that God wanted me to go home, so I did, and I became a victim all over again. During our ten-year marriage, I have had my nose broken twice, two ribs broken, and several lacerations over and around my eyes. I've suffered through busted lips, numerous dislodged teeth, and a dislocated shoulder. I've also suffered broken bones that included my arm, my wrist, and my leg.”
Harmony stopped talking and touched her bright red hair. Jenise thought the color was brash and looked unnatural.
“Some of you may notice that I'm wearing a wig,” Harmony continued. “It's not a fashion statement. He set my hair on fire, and it never grew back completely. I still have several bald patches.
“For a long time I felt that there was nothing that I could do and that one day I was going to die at the hands of my husband. Then I found this group of women who welcomed me, cried with me, prayed for me, offered me solace, and have supported me without blaming me. I thank God for this group and for all of you ladies.”
By the time Harmony was done speaking, Jenise had tears falling down her face. Quietly she bowed her head and prayed. “Thank you, God. Thank you for bringing me here.”
At the end of the meeting, Claire gave them a list of books and other resources they could pick up for more information. She also gave out a list of Web sites and local agencies the women could visit. She told them that she hoped to see everyone again next week, but realistically she knew that some would not return for one reason or another. If that happened, she wanted to be sure that they knew where to find help when they needed it. When the meeting concluded, they all joined hands and prayed together for each other's safety, and then they were free to go.
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As she drove down the street to her parents' home, Jenise was shocked to see two police cars parked in front of their house. Frightened, she jumped out of her car and rushed up to the front door. A police officer blocked her entrance.
“You can't go in there, Miss,” the policewoman said.
“I live here. This is my parents' home. What's going on?” she asked.
Looking inside she noticed her mother and father sitting on the couch with two police officers questioning them. Her mother was staring sadly at the floor, and Jenise could tell that she was crying. Then she suddenly looked over and noticed Jenise standing in the doorway.
“That's my daughter. Please let her in,” Deloris instructed.
Jenise rushed over to them. As soon as she did, she noticed a large bruise on the side of her father's jaw.
“Oh my God, Daddy, what happened to your face?” she asked.
“He got into a fight with Reggie,” Deloris answered for him. “He came here demanding to see you, and when your father refused to let him in, they ended up in a fight.”
Jenise's entire body suddenly filled with dread. “Aaliyah? Where's Aaliyah?” she asked.
Deloris slowly shook her head and tried unsuccessfully to wipe the tears from her face with a handkerchief. “He overpowered us both, and he took her. Reggie's taken Aaliyah.”
The police officers tried to reassure Jenise that a Levi's Call Amber Alert had been issued, and that they were confident that Aaliyah would be found soon, but it did no good. All anyone could hear at that moment was the sound of Jenise screaming and wailing.
Chapter Fourteen
“What are you doing with my phone?” Semaj asked.
He'd just walked over to Gwen in the green room of the studio where Kandyss Kline's talk show was taped. Gwen was among the family members scheduled to speak on the show they were taping regarding Wayne's disappearance.
“This isn't your phone, it's mine,” she replied.
“Are you sure? I could have sworn I left mine lying on this table.”
Gwen looked at the screen and noticed that something was indeed different about her iPhone. She'd taken a photo of herself posing in front of a fountain in the park wearing her favorite pair of tight jeans with a red tank top. She'd set the photo as the screen saver for her phone, and it was no longer there. Confused, she looked across to the other side of the room and saw her mother chatting away on an iPhone. Suddenly she remembered giving her mother her phone to call their family to make sure they knew to watch them on TV. Guiltily she handed the phone to Semaj.
“I'm sorry. It looks just like mine,” she said.
“No worries. It's an honest mistake,” he said.
Semaj took the phone and walked out of the green room before Gwen could tell him about the phone call he'd just missed. He went down the hallway to the area where his private dressing room was located.
Rip was lounging on the couch waiting for him and eating fruit. “Did you find your phone?” he asked.
“Yeah, I'd left it in the green room,” he answered.
Rip bit into a strawberry and swallowed the sweet fruit. “See, that's exactly what I mean about you not being cut out for this. When I was in the business, I never carried a cell phone. All I ever used were pay phones and pagers. They are a lot harder to trace.”
“I have to have my cell phone for my work. I get tips from people via text message, e-mail, Facebook, and Twitter.” Although they were alone in the room Semaj looked around before continuing. “Besides, there is nothing in my phone that could connect me to the disappearance of Wayne James.”
Rip grabbed another strawberry and put it in his mouth. “That's not the point. The point is that we cannot afford to make any mistakes. Not knowing where your phone is at all times is a mistake. Mark my words.”
“Yeah, well, there are not going to be any mistakes. I've got what I needed, and now it's just a matter of putting everything altogether.”
Earlier that morning, Semaj opened his door to a FedEx delivery that contained the DNA results he'd ordered. After taking the package from the driver, he paced back and forth in his apartment feeling almost afraid to open it. For as long as he could remember he'd wondered who his father was, and now an envelope was in his possession that would answer that question once and for all, and he couldn't bring himself to open it up.
Semaj sat down on the sofa and held the envelope in his hand once more. As he did he thought back over his life and all of the times he'd regretted not having a father in his life. Pop Al was a great man, and a wonderful grandfather, but for Semaj, his presence in his life just wasn't enough.
When he was ten years old, his church youth group held a father-and-son camping trip. All of the boys were encouraged to bring their dads along with them. Neither Semaj nor Rip had a father to bring, so they asked Pop Al if he'd come along with them. Nothing in this world could make him disappoint his grandson, so he happily agreed. He closed the barbershop up early that Friday night and helped the boys pack up their gear and sleeping bags. They all kissed Semaj's grandma Nettie good-bye and told her they'd see her the next afternoon.
They met in the church parking lot, then drove out into the woods where they parked the vans and loaded their gear on their backs to walk the rest of the way. The half-mile hike to the campsite was extremely difficult for Pop Al. He was sixty-one years old, overweight, and a heavy smoker. Semaj cringed with embarrassment as he wheezed, huffed, and puffed his way along the trail.
Finally they arrived at the campsite, and Pop Al helped them unpack their gear and set up their tent. Afterward, the boys went down to the creek and fished for their dinner. Semaj was beginning to have a great time. Since Pop Al was one of the best fishermen in the county all of the boys and their dads came to him for help with everything from what type of bait to use to how to reel in their fish. With Pop Al's help, Semaj managed to reel in the biggest catch of the evening.
As they returned to the campsite, Semaj noticed that Pop Al was lagging even farther back than he had earlier. He and Rip stopped to wait for him to catch up.
“Are you all right, Grandpa?” Semaj asked.
“I'm fine. This cold air is just messing with my arthritis,” he answered. He bent down and rubbed his aching knee. “I'll be all right,” he said.
By the time they got back to the campsite, Pop Al was limping and barely able to move about. The youth leaders huddled all around looking at him with concern.
After watching him for several moments, Mr. Austin, the group leader, spoke up. “I'm sorry to have to do this, Mr. Matthews, but I think you need to cut this trip short and go on home. I'll have my assistant walk you back to the van and drive you back into town,” he said.
Pop Al protested. “No, I don't want to disappoint the boys. I'll be fine. There's no need for anyone to make a fuss over me. Does anyone have any aspirin I can take? That will ease the pain.”
“No, we didn't bring anything like that. Besides, I think you leaving would be best for everyone.”
Although he didn't say it, Mr. Austin was seriously concerned with having such an old man along with them. The last thing he wanted to do was be responsible for his health further declining due to exposure to the weather and any other hazards they might encounter in the woods.
As he and Rip sat in the back of the van with Pop Al in the front and the assistant leader driving them back home, Semaj was livid.
“I can't believe he did this to me,” he whined.
“He didn't do anything to you, Semaj. At least he came with us, and we got to have a little fun,” Rip replied.
Semaj sighed. “He tried, I suppose, but if I had my own dad, this never would have happened. You just don't understand how I feel.”
“Of course I understand. My dad wasn't there either. I had to borrow your grandfather because I had no one else to ask.”
Glancing up in the front of the van Semaj made sure that his grandfather could not hear him. “He's good people, but he's still not my real dad. At least you know where your dad is, and you can even go to the jail and visit him if you wanted to. I don't even know my dad's name.”
Rip didn't respond, so Semaj spent the rest of the ride home staring out the window and sulking.
As he grew up, he longed for a father-and-son relationship. When he'd finally found Wayne he thought his search was over. The irony did not escape Semaj that the one man he'd always felt was the perfect dad was the TV character Henry Forrester, played by Wayne James. Every Monday night, Semaj felt as if he'd practically crawled inside the television in order to spend time with his pretend dad.
He loved watching the episode when Henry's son Dwayne needed help with his science project, and the two of them built a working volcano with colored baking soda and vinegar. Since it was a comedy, of course, they ended up having it explode all over the kitchen walls. Semaj laughed and thought of how much fun it would be to mess up the kitchen ceiling with his own dad.
Another of his favorite episodes was when Henry and all three of the boys went on a ski trip in the Poconos. While sitting in the lodge sipping cocoa, they had heartwarming talks about how much they truly meant to each other. But the best one of all of the episodes that Semaj had seen was the one when the eldest of Henry's sons graduated from high school on the show. Wayne's character was sent out of town on business at the last minute and throughout the episode tensions mounted over whether he'd arrive at the auditorium in time for the commencement exercises. Semaj wanted to stand up in the living room and cheer when, just in the nick of time, as his TV son Rollo was stepping up to the podium to give the commencement address, he showed up and stood in the back listening and beaming with pride.
At his high school graduation, Semaj was also chosen as valedictorian, and he was assigned to give the commencement address. He'd buried his grandparents only two months prior so he knew that neither of them would physically be there. As he stepped up to the podium, wearing his royal blue cap and gown and carrying his speech in his hand, he looked out over the crowd. He realized it was unlikely and by some measures impossible, but he couldn't help but wish that at the last minute, and just in the nick of time, his father would show up and stand in the back row beaming with pride. Of course it did not happen, and Semaj went home alone that night and cried himself to sleep.
Daydreaming about having a father wasn't the only way the lack of a dad had affected him. After he moved to Atlanta and began to attend college, Semaj met and briefly dated a woman named Penny. She was his first real girlfriend, first serious relationship, and first sexual encounter. At the end of the semester, he and Penny broke up and she dropped out of school for over a year. When she returned, to everyone's surprise, she had a young son that she'd named Trevor.
Penny was a private and quiet girl and gossip soon began to circulate around the campus that Semaj was the father of her baby. Feeling confused, betrayed, and most of all, duped, Semaj stormed over to her apartment one afternoon and banged on the door.
“What are you doing here?” she asked when she opened it.
“I came to see my son,” he said flatly.
Penny stared at him in disbelief. “What makes you think that you have a son living here?”
“Do the math, Penny. We broke up, you dropped out of school, and now you have an eight-month-old son. I didn't grow up with my father, and there's no way I'm going to allow my son to feel the same level of abandonment that I felt. Now let me see him.”
Penny sighed loudly. She backed up slowly and allowed Semaj to enter. Once inside, he noticed a tall, dark skinned man sitting on the sofa, holding the baby in his lap.
“Who's this?” Semaj demanded to know.
The man stood up and handed the baby over to Penny. He extended his hand. “I'm Trevor. I'm Penny's boyfriend and the father of her son.”
Semaj stared at him but did not take his hand. “You're his father?” he asked.
“Yes, I am. I overheard you at the door, and I'm not sure why you seem convinced otherwise, but I can assure you that Junior is mine.”
Penny tried to explain that she'd met Trevor shortly after leaving school, and Junior had been conceived that summer. Her pregnancy was the reason she didn't return to school, but she assured Semaj that she wasn't carrying his child when she left. She also told him that Trevor Jr. was only five months old, not eight as everyone had assumed. Feeling ashamed and stupid, Semaj turned around and left.
If he really tried, Semaj could think of hundreds of similar incidents where the lack of growing up with his father had made him feel equally as ashamed and stupid. He reasoned that it wasn't fair. He was a good person with a kind heart who lived a moral life. He just couldn't understand why God has chosen to leave him without a father in his life.
That afternoon, unable to take the suspense or turmoil any longer, Semaj finally ripped open the envelope containing the DNA report and read the results. On the paternity results paper there were a lot of numbers and other items that he did not quite understand, but there was no mistaking one line. “Therefore, probability of paternity is 99.942 percent.” Semaj didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
The fruit basket in the dressing room was almost empty as Rip continued to eat. “So you have your results, and now you are about to go out there and be interviewed by Kandyss Kline about the things you do in order to find a missing person. Do you mind if I ask what you plan to say?”
Semaj sat down in a nearby chair and pondered. “Well, I'll tell her that my first step is always to speak with the family and try to find out who saw the person last. That's where I find the most clues. Then I'll let them know that I go into the community and I start asking questions of the average person. Often these folks don't want to call in or be identified, but if approached correctly they will talk.”
Rip nodded his head. “So how many days are you going to run around talking to folks while you pretend to look for him?”
“I haven't gotten that far yet, but it won't be too long. Just keep our guest comfortable until I get to him.” Semaj stood up and began pacing again, anxious for his time to appear on camera.
Rip decided to change the subject. “Have you talked to Ellen?”
“Nope,” he answered.
“You mean to tell me you still haven't called her after all this time?”
Semaj stopped pacing long enough to stare at Rip. “No, I haven't called her. What am I going to call her for?”
“Um, let's see, you can start by apologizing for acting like a jerk these past few weeks. Then you can tell her that you love her, and you can't wait to marry her. Then if that doesn't work, you can beg for her forgiveness.”
Semaj continued pacing. “Do we have to go over this again? You are Ellen's biggest cheerleader lately. What's up with that?”
Rip watched him go back and forth before answering. “I'm worried about you, man,” he said finally. “You've never appreciated the things that you have. Even when we were kids you thought your life was so bad. Yet, when compared to me and a lot of other kids, you had it great. Now you've found the kind of woman most men will only dream of and instead of doing everything you can to hold on to her, you're neglecting your relationship.”