Somewhat Saved (34 page)

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Authors: Pat G'Orge-Walker

BOOK: Somewhat Saved
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“I'm sorry. I know you tried to find me. But I'm still hurt and angry. You were supposed to spend all that time loving me instead of looking for me. I should've said something before and I didn't. But I make you a promise now.”
 
 
It wasn't a flood of tears but more like small droplets, and they almost ran onto Jasper's face. Zipporah moved so they wouldn't, but she didn't let go of him.
“I'm making you a promise,”
she continued.
“I want you to know this; also buried with you, so that you won't be cold during your sleep, will be my blanket of undying, unspoken love and respect. I can give that to you because I've managed to find and hopefully to keep a real love.”
 
 
Zipporah touched the body. It was still warm and the skin on his face pliable. She kissed his forehead.
“Rest in peace, Dad.”
And though she'd never share what she saw next, she'd never forget it. Jasper's gaping mouth seemed to turn into a smile, or so she imagined....
51
As Jasper had requested, his remains were flown back to Belton, South Carolina, which wasn't too far from Pelzer. So it'd been up to Zipporah to decide whether or not she'd accompany her father's body. It surprised no one that she did. She'd barely slept or eaten since finally allowing the morgue to retrieve Jasper's body from his room. The attendants almost had to bring Zipporah down to the morgue with Jasper. She wouldn't let go of his body. She fought them with every bit of Epps and Hellraiser strength she possessed.
Surprisingly, neither Bea nor Sasha seemed disappointed they'd have to miss the Mothers Board election. While they were on the plane returning home the election was being held back in Las Vegas. As for Sister Betty, she was just happy to be back home.
A waiting limousine picked them up at the Greenville-Spartanburg Airport. Sister Betty insisted Zipporah stay with her and Chandler stay at his grandmother Ma Cile's house, which was only two doors away from Sister Betty's home. If he was needed, he wouldn't be far away.
As they drove along highway 85, Zipporah took note of the countryside and how it was so calm and different from Las Vegas. She was blocking out most of the polite chitchat among Chandler and the others, preferring to watch the moving scenery. Finally, she turned when she heard Chandler speaking directly to her.
“Zipporah, are you okay?” He knew it was a stupid question and one he seemed to ask every few minutes. This was all new to him. He didn't like death and funerals. And he wasn't really sure if he was just her manager or becoming something more. Had it already progressed to that level? “Just let me know if you need something,” he added.
“I'm fine, Chandler,” Zipporah replied, and winked. What would she have done if he hadn't been there for her? She'd met him while looking for a job and now she'd become his job. The term
life-changing
had taken on a whole new meaning to her.
As usual Chandler had stepped up to the plate and taken care of everything for Zipporah. He'd talked to Jasper's attorney the day after Jasper died because she was still inconsolable. Between him and the attorney, all the necessary paperwork was completed, and funeral arrangements were made.
Jasper's death had made Chandler think about his grandmother, Ma Cile. He hadn't told Zipporah but the speed with which everything had happened over the past week or so had only made him more determined to see Ma Cile. Not that he would've returned to Pelzer and not seen her. Whether the stroke would allow her to communicate or not, he intended to see his grandmother. He looked over at Sister Betty and remembered how close she and Ma Cile were. Between his godmother and his grandmother, they'd taken him to church more often than he would've liked, but it did help him to become the man he was. And his grandmother, she dipped her snuff, which made her act crazy at times, and she'd put a switch to his behind more times than the present law allowed. Even so, he loved Ma Cile more than life. Whatever he had to say to her, he meant to say on this side of the grave.
Zipporah stared at Chandler and as was her habit sometimes, she forced a smile. Back in Las Vegas, she had been a little miffed with Chandler and Sasha when they'd finally told her about Jasper's wealth and her mother, Areal. It wasn't the money or the fact that she had a birth mother that was alive and still didn't want to be in her life; it was more the fact that, again, someone had held out on her. She'd grown tired of being a puppet. She fussed so much that they'd promised to never withhold anything again, no matter how good or bad it was.
Zipporah felt a touch on her hand. Of course, it was Bea. Despite her rough exterior and her curved spine the woman had nothing but straight-up unconditional love. Without judging, Bea had shown more love toward her than anyone she'd ever met, except Chandler.
Bea squeezed Zipporah's hand again. “I'm here for you, sweetie. That's what godmothers are for.” Bea let out a small giggle hoping it was not too inappropriate.
“And, I'm so happy you agreed to be my godmother.” Zipporah smiled. She truly was. She'd seen how close Sister Betty and Chandler were—godmother and godson. She admired that. Bea had shown that same closeness to her and didn't have a title or a good reason. At the airport Zipporah had asked her if she'd consider being her godmother. Bea had almost done a church dance after saying yes. Zipporah could tell it'd meant more to Bea than money. An ecstatic Bea had confirmed it by telling anyone who'd listen or couldn't get out of earshot, including flight attendants and the pilot, that she was Zipporah's godmother.
The limo dropped Bea off first and then Sasha. Sister Betty lived in another part of Pelzer that was more upscale. Zipporah was amazed at the mansions and their well-kept acres of lawn. And when the limo finally pulled into the winding driveway to Sister Betty's house, Zipporah's mouth dropped open. She'd have never thought Sister Betty lived so richly, even though she knew she had money. The old woman was so modest in apparel and her demeanor. Zipporah's respect level for Sister Betty rose.
“Are you coming inside, June Bug?” Sister Betty asked and yawned. Again, she hadn't realized just how exhausted she was.
“No, Ma'am,” Chandler answered. He'd almost gotten used to the fact that he'd always be her little June Bug no matter how much of a man he'd become. “We have to meet with the funeral director.” His eyebrows arched in surprise when he realized a look of concern suddenly spread across Sister Betty's face. His first thought was that his own must've looked like he was in pain at the mere thought of going to a funeral parlor.
“You don't have to be involved in everything,” Sister Betty said to Chandler. She knew he didn't like funerals. “I can handle things with Zipporah.”
“You should get some sleep,” Zipporah added. She wasn't sure what the problem was, but Chandler looked like he was about to throw up.
“No, I'll go with you.” Chandler stifled a desire to yawn and hold her both at the same time. He looked away and kicked at a pebble much like a shy kid would. At the first opportunity he was going to have to find a way to get his mind, and his heart, in check. Certainly, each was out of control.
“Okay, June Bug.” Sister Betty turned to let the limo driver inside the gate so he could take her luggage to the house. “I'll go on inside and rest up. You two go ahead and take care of things, but you make sure you don't wear Zipporah out.”
Chandler smiled. He knew exactly what Sister Betty hinted at. Translation: Bring Zipporah right back here and don't even think about taking her back to Ma Cile's empty house.
Chandler shook his head and laughed as he led Zipporah back to the limo. With the way those old women were circling Zipporah's beautiful “wagon,” he'd never get a chance to ride, even if he wanted.
And he did.
52
Jasper had done more to make things run smoothly in his death than he had in life. There wasn't one stone left unturned. The trip to the funeral home had been a formality. Zipporah signed a few papers and that was all. He'd planned his entire funeral including the casket, flowers, and guest list. He'd even chosen the preachers. Jasper had wanted two just to cover his bases.
Apparently, by the time Jasper's attorney had left Las Vegas, the legal wheel had already started turning. He gave Zipporah power of attorney. Chandler had been amazed at the simplicity of the matter. Long before he'd returned to Las Vegas determined to meet her Jasper had made sure Zipporah was declared the executor of his estate. According to the attorney, Jasper had filed all the necessary papers as soon as the private investigator confirmed Zipporah was indeed his natural child.
Jasper had made certain that neither Areal nor even his other daughter, Ima, could touch his estate. But he wasn't completely cold-hearted toward Ima. He'd left it up to Zipporah whether or not to share with her sister. Unlike Zipporah, he'd not declared, confirmed, or even legally made Ima his child. But he did believe that it would make Ima more loving toward her sister if she knew Zipporah controlled the purse strings, at least that's the reason he'd given his attorney. Clearly, in keeping track of his two daughters, Jasper had found Zipporah to be the most deserving.
On the morning of Jasper's funeral, held at his old church, Financial Temple, there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was as though Jasper was still running things, or God had truly forgiven him. And apparently most of the congregation had also. They turned out three deep just to take a look at the celebrity who was once a member.
Zipporah had almost forgotten that her father had not only been a rich man but also quite the superstar. The gospel world had turned out in full force. Many of them did not know Jasper personally but were familiar with his music and his incredible talent for songwriting. There were a few who'd shared the stage with him when he'd sung with Sasha and Areal many years ago.
Huge floral sprays of gladiolas, snapdragons, carnations, daisy poms, lilies and tree ferns adorned the entire pulpit. Jasper had requested his gold and bronze casket be place front and center. Many of his old songs were played through the church's sound system; he didn't want a choir messing up his music. He'd even planned the menu for the after-burial repast.
Jasper hadn't wanted anything long and boring so he'd planned his viewing and funeral, one to follow the other, with a bit of entertainment in between to add levity to the occasion.
Specifically, he'd requested a well-known Christian comedian by the name of Brotha Smitty out of Manhattan to give a fifteen-minute laugh fest. Brotha Smitty, a dark-skinned, rotund man in his forties, brought the house down in laughter when he'd threatened that if folks didn't laugh they'd have to carry him around. Folks took one look at Brotha Smitty's four-hundred pounds and laughed until they'd cried. In fact, many had cried so much there weren't too many tears left for Jasper.
A white stretch limo had brought Zipporah, Chandler, Bea, and Sister Betty to the church just a short time before the funeral began. Just when they thought Sasha had changed her mind about coming, she showed. And, of course, she and Bea showed out.
Each old woman tried to outcry and outshout the other. If Brotha Smitty's performance was funny, then Bea and Sasha's was just downright hysterical. And they'd planned it to be so. They were a little disappointed that Jasper hadn't included them in the funeral plans, so they did what they'd always done. They did it their way.
No funeral would be legit if there weren't some family drama happening. The news spread quicker than wildfire that Jasper had an illegitimate rich daughter. People who wouldn't have spat on Zipporah had she been on fire stepped on toes and broke all sorts of funeral protocol to get a look at her or shake her hand. Even the two preachers kept leering down at the front pew. They tried to get her attention by invoking her name every chance they got.
Sister Betty, on the other hand, had been designated the lookout by Chandler. Her job was to pray and if necessary get a couple of burly teenagers from the youth choir to put a choke hold on Ima or Areal should they show up.
If both Areal and Ima did show up, they must've hidden among the crowd and behaved. But Sister Betty saw no evidence of their attending, and anyone who knew those Hellraisers knew behaving was not an option. So she was able to relax, welcoming the opportunity to do so.
The burial and the repast went as well as could be expected. Those who'd wanted to see Zipporah cry and scream at the gravesite were as disappointed as they'd been when she'd calmly sat through the funeral. This was her father's funeral and she wasn't about to upstage him by sobbing, no matter how much she'd wanted to do just that and more.
The day after Jasper's funeral Zipporah decided that she needed to be of assistance to someone. She couldn't just sit around doing nothing, so that meant she had to think and make decisions. But decision-making—she wasn't ready for that yet.
Zipporah overheard Sister Betty telling Chandler that she would go to see his grandmother with him. Zipporah decided that she'd go, too. He hadn't asked her to come along, but she figured it was because he, as usual, was trying to protect her. In his mind, he'd probably thought she'd had enough of hospitals for a while.
But Zipporah gathered her strength, determined that she would be there for Chandler whether it was at a hospital or anywhere else.
It was her turn to watch Chandler as they rode to the hospital. She sat between him and Sister Betty. Both were looking out their windows thinking about what, she didn't know. Not knowing Ma Cile or how to comfort either of them, Zipporah took each one's hand. She held it and she prayed. In her mind, her prayer was a bit awkward but she knew God would get her meaning. Somehow, although she hadn't mentioned her own anxieties, and only prayed for God to strengthen Chandler and Sister Betty, Zipporah felt better.
In fact, Zipporah felt so much better that she allowed herself a moment to lie back and let her thoughts come freely, as she held on to Chandler and Sister Betty's hands.
She closed her eyes and moments later had a vision. It was a vision where there fell a mist of fresh-smelling rain, and balls of light flickered as though they wanted her to follow them. And then she saw her father, Jasper. He was beckoning her to come to where he was, standing by a four-poster bed. She went to him, and then she and Jasper continued their conversation from the hospital. They were laughing as she crawled into the bed. He covered her with the whitest sheets she'd ever seen. He kept laughing and talking while he tucked her in. She began giggling. Here she was a grown woman and her father was tucking her in like a baby, making sure the sheets were tight. She saw and could feel Jasper smoothing the sheets. He tucked them quickly as though he were trying to regain time. In the vision, he'd started singing. She could hear the lyrics and without realizing it, she began to sing a melody out loud.
“If fire came today, I'd not leave you.
If water rose above my head, I'd not leave you.
If death called me home, I'd not leave you.
There's nothing that can separate me from you.
You're covered with my sheets of love.
You're protected by my sheets of love.
You're warmed by my sheets of love.
Uncovered, my baby, you'll never be.”
“That's a beautiful song,” Sister Betty whispered.
Zipporah's eyes fluttered and then opened. “I didn't realize anyone heard me.”
“I don't think I know that song,” Chandler said. “It's got a beautiful melody. I wasn't able to catch all the words.”
“Thank you.”
“Sounds like something you should record for my gospel album.” Sister Betty hadn't forgotten about the album but since the opportunity had presented itself, she brought it up.
“Who recorded it first?” Chandler asked, trying to avoid the look from Sister Betty. She obviously wasn't going to let him off the hook.
“It hasn't been recorded.”
“Really,” Chandler said, surprised. “It's got a beautiful melody and I think you could do something with the hook, perhaps tweak a word here and there.”
Zipporah gave Chandler a disapproving look. “I'm not recording it.”
“Why not?”
“My father
just
gave it to me moments ago and you're already talking about recording it.” Zipporah laid her head back and, again, she sang her new song, the one her father had just given her.
Sister Betty and Chandler looked at each other with both concern and amazement.
It was obvious that Zipporah wasn't ready to let go, or perhaps she had a way to deal with her grief that they didn't understand. Either way, Jasper had and probably always would play a huge part in her life. After all, he'd already flipped it.
A light rain had fallen since their arrival back at Sister Betty's from the hospital visit to see Ma Cile. The quick sprinkle seemed calming as Chandler stood at the window with his arms folded, listening to the drops gently tapping the shutters on the house. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the rain's tranquility as though it were precious air.
“I didn't realize it could still be so lovely even at sundown and especially during a rain,” Zipporah said, trying to sound as cheerful as her words. She'd pulled her long hair into a plain ponytail, changed into a comfortable red denim pants suit and entered the living room moments earlier. She'd stood at the entrance to the living room and watched Chandler unobserved. Zipporah didn't want to interrupt what seemed like a moment of reflection and despite how she was feeling, she was happy to see him at peace.
The welcomed intrusion had caught Chandler off guard. He turned slowly, smiling to show his pleasure at her appearance. “I see you've changed.” He held out his hand, indicating she should join him.
“I see you haven't,” Zipporah whispered, as she joined him by the window.
“I haven't.” He gave a sheepish grin hoping it would hide his confusion. “Why would you say that?”
“I'm not sure. It's really not what I meant to say.” Zipporah turned her head thinking she'd seen a dark shadow streak across the room. The last time she'd seen such a thing was in her father's room on the night he'd died.
Chandler's eyes followed her gaze. He couldn't tell what she was looking at. “What did you mean to say?”
Zipporah nodded her head, sighed and turned back to Chandler. She didn't speak. Instead, she suddenly laughed and began to sing.
If fire came today, I'd not leave you. If water rose above my head, I'd not leave you. If death called me home, I'd not leave you.
Zipporah stopped singing, choosing instead to hum the melody. She removed the clip holding her ponytail, allowing it to fall around her shoulders. She kept humming. From her jacket pocket she took a piece of paper and placed it in Chandler's hand and she continued humming.
Chandler's mind raced. He was caught totally unaware. Without saying a word or questioning what she wanted, he joined in and sang the words completing the song, as Zipporah continued humming Jasper's melody.
There's nothing that can separate me from you. You're covered with my sheets of love. You're protected by my sheets of love. You're warmed by my sheets of love. Uncovered, my baby, you'll never be.
With the soft rain as their background music they sang. They sang the words they couldn't speak—Jasper's words.
From inside her room Sister Betty listened to the music made by Zipporah and Chandler. “Well, Jasper, you finally did it. You old rascal, you left a dowry with your daughter that will flourish forever.”
Sister Betty quietly closed her bedroom door to give Zipporah and Chandler privacy. And even with the rain bothering her old arthritic knees she raced to the phone. She called Ma Cile's hospital room and had the nurse place the phone next to Ma Cile's ear. With the cordless phone in one hand she crept to the bedroom door and opened it. As the sound of the beautiful duet sung by Zipporah and Chandler travelled through the phone line, she could only imagine the healing it was giving to Ma Cile, who managed to emit quick gasps to show she'd heard the music.
And then Sister Betty called Bea and Sasha. Over the telephone the three women were beside themselves as they secretly listened in on Zipporah and Chandler's “private” declaration of love.
Of course, the three old women's camaraderie only lasted as long as the song. Within five minutes they were back to arguing. Each blamed the other for the failed conference. But since it had been cancelled, Bea and Sasha retained their positions as president and vice president. However, no matter how many times Sister Betty promised she'd never run against them, they still wanted it in writing.

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