28. Corinthians
Corinthians
“Ihave to shower,” Psalms said, coming into my room. I opened my eyes to see her standing over me with Judah in her arms. She was tired, I could tell, but she was pushing through it. For the sake of the baby.
“Okay.” I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at him.
“Cori-“
“No,” I said, rolling over. “Take him with you.”
“He’s your baby!” she fussed. “He’s six months old, and you haven’t held him. You won't even look at him. Nothing.”
“I can't,” I told her.
“You can't or you won't?” she challenged. “Because I see you when you don’t think I am watching. I hear you when you hear him cry, or the first time you heard him laugh. I've been here for six months waiting for you to realize you can do this.”
“Let it go, Psalms,” I said, shaking my head. “Take him in the bathroom with you.”
“No.” She pulled my sheets back, and I felt her climb into my bed. “This is your baby, Cori; look at him.”
“No.” I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. “Take him with you.”
“Cori-“
“Take him with you!” I yelled and moved away from her.
She sighed, then I felt her get out of bed.
The only reason I knew she left was that she slammed the door shut behind her.
I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling.
Judah was six months old. I’d been a mother for six months yet had never touched my own child.
After having him and refusing to hold him after the labor shakes stopped, Madea said I just needed more time.
As a precaution, Psalms offered to move in with me to make sure I wasn’t developing postpartum and, if I was, to make sure I got all the help I could get.
My cousins took turns staying with me when Psalms was at work.
I was never alone. Judah was never alone.
He had someone looking after him every second of every day.
No one questioned why I couldn’t connect with my baby, at least not to my face.
I heard them talking to each other. I heard their fears, the what-ifs, the questions of whether I was mentally stable and whether the therapy was working.
I wanted to tell them that I was fine, that my fear when it came to parenting was that the father of my child was my childhood abuser and rapist. That no matter how hard I tried to get away, I was reminded that he was always in control.
I was stuck holding on to a secret to the chest because if I didn’t, they would all be in danger. And I couldn’t be responsible for anyone else's death.
The door opened again, and Psalms pushed a toy bouncer into the room using her feet.
“I’m not doing this shit anymore, Cori,” she fussed, placing Judah into the bouncer.
His back was to me, and he immediately started hitting the toys on the bouncer.
“I’m going to shower. He’s eaten and changed.
He will play for about ten minutes, then want to go to sleep.
He had a good day at daycare. Ms. L said he’s almost completely rolling over. ”
“Psalms!” I jumped up from the bed. “No, do not leave him in here.” I grabbed her arm to keep her from leaving the room.
“Look, I get that you are going through whatever you are going through, but I need to shower, Cori,” she said, looking at me.
Her eyes filled with tears, and she moved my hand off her wrist. “I need a minute. One for me, with no interruptions because I’m drowning too.
” A single tear fell from her eyes. “I love you and will follow you to the ends of the earth, but right now I need you to be the big sister again.
I need you to help me, and I know you can't because something is going on in here.” She tapped the side of my head.
I stepped back and took a good look at my sister.
To someone who didn’t know her or know the things she’d been through, she looked fine, but I knew better.
Her eyes were sad; worry and fear danced in them like when she was younger.
She’d lost weight, not a lot but enough to make me notice.
The side of her face was swollen and she had a fading bruise around her throat.
“Bug, what’s going on?” I asked. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I need you to be okay, Cori,” she replied. Her voice was soft, but I could hear the fear in it. “I need you to be okay, so I don’t have to be.” She shook her head. “I can't do this alone. I tried, but I’m tired.”
I didn’t say anything, just pulled her into a hug and held her tight. Psalms broke down then; her tears soaked my shirt, and she screamed into my chest. “Okay, Bug, I got you.” I rubbed her back. “I got you.”
“I’m sorry, Cori,” she sobbed. “I tried to be a good girl. I tried.”
Hours later, Psalms slept peacefully in my bed. She’d cried so hard that Judah started to cry. She got herself together, got him to sleep, and then climbed into my bed, put her head in my lap, and slept. Judah lay next to her; every so often, he would make a noise or move.
I bowed my head and did something I hadn’t done in years.
“Dear Lord, I know it’s been a while since you’ve heard my voice.
I have walked into your home more times than I can count without acknowledging you.
For that I am forever sorry. I am here now, asking for your forgiveness and guidance.
I am your child, the one you picked for this life of pain.
You know my heart, mind, pain, fear, desires, and only you know what I’m worthy of.
But I’m not coming to you for my personal gain.
I need you to heal her.” I opened my eyes to look at Psalms. “She never deserved the pain that was inflicted on her. She is just a baby. Your child. Release her from the pain she can't let go of. If it has to go somewhere, give it to me. I’m strong enough to carry both our burdens.” I bit my bottom lip to keep from crying out loud and waking Psalms. “She’s special, a pure soul full of love.
Please, I’m begging you.” I looked at Judah when he started to whimper.
“I don’t know how to be a mother to him.
I love him, but I am scared I’m not worthy.
Show me what you need me to be. The man you chose to be his father?
” I lifted my head to look at the ceiling.
“I want to ask you why, but I know I can't question your ways.” Tears fell from my eyes. “Show me, please?”
I wiped my face and looked down at Judah. He was awake; his eyes bore into me. His brows damn near connected, then he smiled. His toothless grin melted my heart. I slowly unwrapped Psalms's arms from my waist and got up from the bed.
“Okay, look kiddo, I don’t know what I’m doing,” I whispered as I picked up Judah.
His chubby hands went to my cheeks, and he laughed.
“Hi, baby boy. I’m so sorry it took me so long to get to this point.
” Tears fell from my eyes, but I didn’t try to stop them.
“My name is Corinthians DeCorte, and I’m your mommy.
” Judah let go of my face, and I kissed his forehead.
“We have six months of catching up to do.” I moved away from the bed, glancing back at Psalms to make sure she was asleep, and went to my closet.
I had grown to be comfortable sitting in bed, but I still couldn’t sleep in one.
I pushed my clothes out of the way, then went to the back of the closet, slowly sat down, then turned on the small light I had in there.
Judah laid his head on my chest, and I rubbed his back.
“I want to tell you a story, about a boy, he couldn’t feel pain… ”
***
I parked my car, turned it off, then got out.
It had taken me thirty minutes to get here, and as much as I wanted to pretend that I wanted to leave, I was sick of this shit.
I needed an outlet. I was still trying to navigate being a mother and helping Psalms through her shit.
I was drowning, and this was the only thing that I could think of to make me feel alive.
And I hated it.
I put the code into the door, waited for the light to turn green, then opened the door and looked around.
The building looked like an old barn from the outside, but the inside was completely updated.
The entrance was an open space with a table in the middle.
On it was a metal cage with labeled drawers.
Next to it was a metal trash can. The room didn’t have the metallic smell of blood or antiseptic.
This wasn’t what I expected, but at the same time I had no expectations.
“I never thought I would see the day,” Mercy said, walking into the open room. She was dressed in a grey jumpsuit tied at her waist. Her black tank was covered in blood, and she had black work boots on her feet. “What are you doing here?”
“Where’s Granddaddy?” I asked, not answering her question. She pointed at the door behind me. “Thank you.” I turned and walked towards the door.
“Corinthians?” she called out. I stopped walking, turned to face her, and lifted my brow.
“Your phone, keys, and purse have to stay on the table right there, and you have to put on a jumpsuit.” I looked at the table to my left.
“Cross will remotely reset your location once your stuff is put in the lockbox.”
“She can do that?” I asked, surprised, and Mercy nodded. “Since when?”
“Not long,” she replied. “But it works.”
I put my things in the lockboxes like Mercy said, then changed into a jumpsuit and boots. Once I was done, she showed me how to lock everything away, then went back to her room to do whatever she had been doing before I came in.
I approached the door she told me Granddaddy was in, took a deep breath, then opened it.
Helen sat in the middle of the room, tied to a chair.
The moment her eyes locked on me, she started fighting against her restraints.
We hadn’t seen her since her church anniversary service.
Granddaddy had mentioned in passing that enough time had passed, and she was free game.
At first, I was hesitant to tell him I wanted in, but when I did, he just nodded and gave me the building's address. No questions asked.
“That’s not necessary,” I told her, shaking my head. “Those restraints aren’t coming off, trust me. If Granddaddy didn’t teach us anything, he taught us how to tie a knot.” I stopped walking and thought for a moment. “Well no, that’s a lie. He taught us a lot of things.”
“When my husband finds out what about this-“
“He can die too,” I said, waving her off.
“Trust me, y’all blood ain’t nothing but a drop in the bucket.
” I walked over to the metal cabinet that was identical to the one I grew up seeing and opened it.
Inside was every kind of knife I was ever taught to use.
“I have no idea how he knew I would end up here.”
“I’m just good,” Granddaddy's voice echoed through the room. I leaned back out of the cabinet and then looked around. “It’s a speaker in every room. Look up and to your right.” I did what he said and noticed a small round dome in the corner of the room. “I can see and hear you.”
“Nice,” I said, nodding. “You want to join me?”
“Honestly?” he paused for a moment. “No.” A wave of disappointment washed over me, and I looked away. “I want to see what you can do.”
“You want to see if I’ll fail,” I corrected him, then went back to looking at the knives.
That sadness was replaced with anger. I knew that none of what I felt was directed at Granddaddy, but he was going to be my outlet for the moment.
“You want to see if I’ll cry or stutter because I’m overwhelmed.
” I picked up a blue butterfly knife and flipped it open.
“You want to see if it comes down to it, if I’m strong enough to be what I’m not.
” I closed the cabinet and approached Helen.
“You want to see if I’m capable of doing the unthinkable.
” I looked up at the camera. I grabbed Helen by the back of the head and pulled it back so that she looked up at me.
When I was a kid, I killed for survival.
The fear that Robert embedded in me was still there, but there was also something else: peace.
“Please,” Helen begged as tears fell from her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Take it from me, begging never gets you anywhere,” I told her, then put the knife to her neck and slowly sliced her neck open. I watched as her blood flowed from her open wound. I waited for the wave of guilt to wash over me, but it never did.
The door opened, and I looked up to see Krude standing on the other side.
“All these years I wondered what it would take for you to snap and join the family business finally.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame.
“Now I’m seeing all it took was for you to become a mother,” he said, looking from me to Helen.
“You aren’t as dramatic as I thought you would be, though.
Slicing her throat was the easiest death she could’ve had. ”
I laughed and shook my head, then flipped my knife between my fingers and stabbed Helen in the chest.
“She’s not dead,” I told him and then walked out of the room.
“What do you mean she’s not dead?” he asked. The confusion was evident in his voice.
“Check her pulse. I intentionally didn’t cut her arteries; she’s slowly bleeding to death.”
“And the knife?”
“Next to her heart, not in it,” I told him. “She can feel it every time her heart beats.”
“Who the hell taught you some psychotic shit like that?”
I took off my jumpsuit and boots and tossed them in the metal bin next to the table where my things sat in their lockbox. I opened my lockbox and took my things out.
“Corinthians?” Krude called out when I got to the door.
I looked over my shoulder to see him standing in the doorframe of the room I was in.
“Are you okay?” his eyes were full of concern.
“Like forreal? I know postpartum ain’t something you snap out of, so I’m asking you now.
Are you okay? What do you need from me? What can I do to help? ”
“I’m not a hundred percent, but I’m trying to get there.
Every day won't be easy, but I know that’s okay.
” I looked over his shoulder at Helen. “I don’t have a choice to be otherwise.
I have a kid who didn’t ask to be here and a sister who needs me to be there for her again.
” I smiled at him. “I’ll see you later.”
“Here?” his brow went up in surprise. “I thought this was a one-and-done, which is why OG didn’t tell anyone about it.”
“If he didn’t say anything, how did you end up here?”
“I got bills, met a woman that will end up as my wife, so I gotta make sure I’m taking care of home.”
“Your wife?” I asked, and he nodded. “What’s her name?”
“Megan,” he answered.
“You better not drive that woman crazy, Genesis,” I warned him.
“I ain’t,” he said, waving me off. “I’ll probably end up pregnant and shit fucking around with her. She gives me that kind of vibe.”
“Only you,” I laughed. “Later, I’m going to check on the shop and then cuddle with my baby.”
“Later.”