2. Jawaan
"Talk to me, baby. I can't help if you don't say anything. I know I'm pretty and everything, but I'm sure you could be doing something other than hearing me breathe on this phone," Mama Lo says.
"Can you do me a favor that stays between us?"
My voice is low, raw, and raspy due to the lack of sleep I've had, the liquor I have consumed, and the emotion coursing through me. Time has gotten away from me, and I'm unsure what day it is.
"If that's what you need... of course it will. Before you proceed, can you confirm that you're okay? You haven't been at dinner, and your absence has been felt amongst the family."
A plea in Mama Lo's tone causes a pang in my chest, and my hand rubs circles over the left side, trying to soothe the ache.
"I'm trying to be," I whisper because it's the best I can do in this moment of weakness and instability.
"What's the favor, baby?" Mama Lo asks.
Closing my eyes, I fight over the clouds in my mind, attempting to keep me in this bubble of unfamiliar territory.
"How do you communicate with God? Do you think he speaks back to you when you do?"
"Prayer is my method of communicating with God. He doesn't always respond when I pray, and there are times when silence is the only thing I get from Him. Then, there are times when He speaks back. His voice sometimes is soft and still, but there have been times when His voice is loud and boisterous. It truly depends on what He needs to communicate to me."
My heart rate increases when Mama Lo mentions God can communicate in varying tones because of the incident with the unfamiliar voice speaking to me the other day.
"Thank you," I softly express, unable to form or speak anything other than those two words.
So much is happening in my mind that I feel like I'm in the eye of a tornado, fighting to keep from being swallowed up or destroyed once it dissipates.
"Can I share something God is saying to me, baby?" Mama Lo asks in a tone full of hesitation and uncertainty, causing my palms to perspire.
Swallowing and nodding, a low, humorless chuckle escapes my lips when I realize Mama Lo isn't able to see the gesture.
"Y-yes," I shakily agree.
"The things in your past can't forestall the great things God has planned for your future. God wants me to tell you that just like in Jeremiah 29:11, He knows the thoughts that He thinks toward you... thoughts of peace, not evil, to give you an expected end. Your expected end has already been planned and set in place for you. No matter how many storms rise against you, God graced you to overcome them. God has established you. God has an expected end for you. Remember that even in the eye of a storm, God has graced you to come out of it stronger, wiser, and better than when you went in. Trust that His ways are not your ways. His thoughts are not your thoughts. Trust Him to strengthen you and see you through every trial, tribulation, and obstacle, no matter how deep in the trenches they might push you. Greater is He that is in you than he that is in the world."
My lip trembles, and my leg bounces while my mind swirls with the things coming from Mama Lo's mouth. It's crazy that she would mention being inside of a storm because it's how I feel, and I didn't tell her that. The water resting on the lid of my eyes slowly falls, and I hang my head, causing silence to stretch between us. I can't utter a word, so I allow my tears to flow without attempting to block or stop them.
"I don't know where you are, but God is saying it's time for you to stop hiding. He said to tell you to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and come out of the darkness. You shall live, Jawaan. Death can't have you. Your brothers will not bury you. God says He is about to remove the stain and the sting of your past. He knew you before you were formed in your mother's womb, and He loves you with an everlasting love." Mama Lo's voice elevates with words before her language changes into an unknown tongue, causing me to weep uncontrollably.
Seconds become endless minutes with me holding the phone to my ear while listening to Mama Lo speaking in only a language God and Heaven can comprehend. I'm frozen in place, my tears consuming, and my body feels lighter the longer Mama Lo continues. The cloud of darkness, mental anguish, and torment I've been experiencing for the length of time I've been in this hotel begins to clear. I feel like I can breathe easier, and for the first time in weeks, I don't feel the urge to end my life.
"God says all is well, baby. I want you to do me a favor, though. Will you?" Mama Lo asks an unknown time later.
"Yes, ma'am," I say without hesitation.
"Come by my house when you leave wherever you are. I need to give you something."
"Yes, ma'am. I will."
"Okay. I'll see you soon, and Jawaan?"
"Yes."
"You're not alone. I love you." With that, Mama Lo disconnects the call, and I get up from the floor I've been sitting on for countless hours before heading to the bathroom to shower so I can get dressed and return to my life.
A Week Later
"I guess you missed being in the safety of your home, huh?" I ask Cleo.
My poor girl didn't know she was on the brink of being abandoned at the doggy daycare facility I took her to before going to Columbus. Or maybe she did, which is why she's been smothering me since I picked her up after leaving Mama Lo's house. Today is the first day I'm home because even after returning to Ribax, I checked into a pet-friendly hotel since I hadn't been ready to return to my house. Even doing so today, I entered the street from the opposite direction so I could reach my house without being seen by Kyce, Kayshon or their wives. Dodging my brothers is best for me because I'm not yet ready to answer questions regarding my distance, disappearance, or anything else going on with me.
Kyce and Kayshon are married with wives and, in Kyce's case, babies to worry about, so it's time for me to figure out my life without bothering them. So, for now, I will stay away until I'm strong enough to communicate or answer any inquiries they might have. I also asked Mama Lo to keep our conversation and interaction between us so neither Kyce nor Kayshon feels some type of way about me speaking with Mama Lo and not them.
"Cleo, home," I command, smiling when Cleo trots to her kennel after licking my hand.
Once I secure Cleo in her home, I head to the garage so I can make a quick store run since I need supplies and groceries after being gone for a little while. The first thing I did when I got home was clean and sanitize my house from top to bottom, then burn some candles to remove the stale smell in the air. Unbeknownst to Kyce or Kayshon, I changed the code on my doors and garage, removing their access to my house. I'll check my security feeds when I come back from the store because one or both of them have been by my home during my absence, because they have attempted to call and text.
"Damn," I mutter, backing out of my garage when my eyes connect with Masani, causing me to put my finger to my lips, hoping she understands my silent plea.
A breath leaves my lips when Masani nods subtly before entering her and Kyce's house, allowing me to head off our street in the opposite direction. Turning onto the connecting street leading me to the main road, I turn up the radio before singing along with the song echoing around the interior.
"Trust Him, believe Him. Never doubt Him. Never doubt Him, no. Though they slay — now that's the part of the song I might have a problem with, God. That's a lot of faith, and your boy is lacking in that area. Heck, trusting people is why I'm struggling to get my life in order now," I vent.
The race isn't given to the swift nor the strong but to the one who endures until the end. You have to walk with assurance that no matter the battle, I am able to see you through it. Trust in Me.
"I'm trying," I whisper.
I know. Help is coming.
Pulling into the parking lot of the local grocery stores, I find a spot and exit my vehicle, hoping I can grab what I need and return home without incident. Grabbing a cart, I enter the store and head toward the produce, although my list doesn't require my presence there. My eyes bounce around the produce for no reason before pushing the cart out of the aisle.
"Shit," I say, colliding with another shopper when I attempt to enter the next entrance.
"Well, if it isn't my baby," a familiar female voice says, instantly causing the hairs on my arms to stand. I look into a pair of brown orbs I wish I could forget.
Rema fucking Gardner.
"Damn, you ain't choked on a dick and died yet," I rant, frowning deeply.
"Aw. You're not happy to see me after everything I've taught you. That hurts my feelings," Rema says with a gleam and twinkle in her eyes that twists my stomach.
"Hm. Is that what we call fucking minors these days?"
Rema lets go of her cart, strutting in my direction, causing me to give her a once over while internally kicking myself when my dick jolts in my pants. Rema's body, despite her age, is a work of art I hate admiring. The zebra striped print drawstring split thigh dress encasing her body has my mind fighting against memories I wish I could forget.
Lord, of all the sorceresses, no longer breathing, why is this woman free to do so?
"You have always been my favorite, Jawaan. If you come by the house, I'll show you just how much I've missed your touch," Rema whispers in my ear with her hand resting on my chest, causing heat to rush to my dick like I've been hit with a flare.
My body feels like I'm under a spell when my mind spirals back in time to the moment I knew that Rema Gardner did more than foster children.
"Why are you crying, baby?" Rema asks after slipping into my room like she's on a covert mission.
I thought I had been doing a good job of keeping my tears silent by crying into my pillow, so Rema's presence made me a little discombobulated. Although I have been living with Rema and Humphrey for three years, I still long for Sheryl. I also struggle with feeling neglected by her and Dad, in addition to guilt for not being able to be the child Jennifer and Jared wanted me to be for them. The reality of having to grow up in foster care with no ties to a biological family is unsettling, depressing, and painful. Today's field trip, where everyone had a parent chaperone, left me with much to be desired, with my pillow full of sorrow.
"No. No reason," I mumble while wiping my face.
Rema is in a black satin robe, and I'm unsure what's about to happen when she unties it, allowing it to fall open. I swallow, and my eyes balloon at seeing her naked body on full display. Rema nods while strutting to my bed, pulling back the blankets, which causes me to move slowly away, creating a separation between our bodies. The queen-sized bed suddenly feels like a twin when Rema scoots closer, cutting off the space between us.
"I can help you feel better. Come here so I can show you what I mean." Rema grabs my hand, guiding it to her full breasts.
My mind sputters when I feel her breasts contradicting the unfamiliar twitch in my dick, tenting my sleep pants. At ten and with two brothers in the house, I'm not a novice to the idea of sex, yet this is my first encounter with any form of the act. My head jerks back when I feel Rema lightly kissing my lips.
What in the world?
"Follow my lead. I'm going to help you feel better."
"You remember, don't you?" Rema asks, instantly snatching me out of the memory to see the smirk on her lips and the gleam within her orbs.
A bitter tang invades my mouth, causing my throat to burn and making it difficult to swallow. With the strength of a bodybuilder lifting three hundred fifty pounds, I damn near tripped trying to get away from Rema, abandoning my cart in the process. The urgency to get out of her presence has me forfeiting the groceries I'm in the store for. The memory of Rema teaching me how to suck her titties before instructing me on how to eat her pussy is hovering on the surface of my mind. My stomach is twisting with an intense pain that has me running to the first trash receptacle I come to after exiting the store and vomiting profusely.
Journal Entry #1
At ten, I found out that some forms of sex can indeed make you feel better, but only temporarily. At that age, I had no idea what I was doing, leaving me completely open to a woman whose intentions with me were for selfish gain. How did I go from living a life with parents who loved me to people the state told me I was blood-connected with to living in a home that groomed little boys to be sexually deviant? I was ten years old, and Rema Gardner had her way with me, yet I never complained or disagreed with anything she did. I actually enjoyed the love she showed me because she always told me I was her baby. She told me that only she could love me enough to make me feel better. I didn't even make it to eleven before I began craving her touch and desiring her essence on my tongue. What is wrong with me?
Sighing deeply, I closed the journal Mama Lo had given me, stating it would allow me to release my thoughts healthily. After my run-in with Rema, I definitely had to write out the things plaguing my mind.
"Maybe I also need to make an appointment with the lady helping Kyce and Kayshon sort out their lives."