Chapter 7
Garrus Whyte
You Don’t Belong Here
My wife’s funeral was today. I knew that my kids would probably want to kill me when they saw me, but I couldn’t just pretend that I didn’t know her services were today and not show up.
This was someone that I spent so much of my life with.
We had three children together, and despite all the shit that I put her through, I still loved her, and I hated the outcome.
I hated that the choice I made in stepping out of my marriage hurt my wife to the point that she snapped, and she tried to kill Dionne.
As a result of that, she ended up in prison, which is where she ultimately took her own life.
My reckless decision making caused all of this to happen. My wife is no longer here, and any relationship that I thought about mending with my children was gone as well. They would forever hate me for this, and I couldn’t blame them.
Allison’s services were being held at her home church.
It was the church that she grew up in. Back when we first got married, I would come to church with her often.
When our kids were smaller, we were in church just about every Sunday, but as I got older, and as my businesses started fluctuating the way that they were, I felt like I’d gotten too big to step foot in church, so I haven’t been here in a while.
Me, choosing not to attend church is another thing that Allison and I would fight about.
She felt like I put all my time into my business, and that I devoted zero time into God.
She was always down my back, telling me that God was the reason why I had all the success that I did, and how I should be in church on Sundays, thanking him.
These past few weeks, I’ve had time to myself to think about a lot of things, and the thing that sticks out to me the most is that my wife was never asking me for much.
Pour into her from time to time, give her the reassurance that even after all these years, she was still beautiful.
Go to church with her a couple of times throughout the month, take her on a few dates, and everything else would have fallen into place.
I hadn’t done any of those things because I was too busy giving all my time, and effort into the next woman, and into my business, leaving nothing left to give to Allison.
With eyes that held so much pain in them, I reached inside the cupholder, where my sunglasses were, and I put them on. I cried tears the entire way here, and I didn’t want to walk into the church, and have everyone seeing that.
I stepped out of the car, allowing my Gucci dress shoes to hit the pavement, and then I closed the door behind me. I locked the door and placed the keys inside my pocket.
Allison loved the color white, and I’d gotten a hold of one of the flyers that I saw on social media, advertising the colors for her service, along with where the service would be, and the time. That’s how I knew where to come, and what colors to wear.
As I was walking to the front of the church, there were so many people that were headed inside as well, and they’d followed the instructions, dressed up in their all white as well.
With the amount of people that were here, I was able to blend right in.
I walked up the steps of the church right along with everyone else, and once inside the church, they handed me over an obituary. Looking at the obituary, as I followed the line inside the church, seeing my wife on the front, with a collage of all her pictures, it really did break me.
I opened it, skimming through, wanting to see if there was going to be any mention of me, but there wasn’t.
Allison lost both her parents years ago, so there were pictures of them inside, along with our kids, and a few pictures of Allison’s close friends.
I skimmed, reading the text, and again, there was no mention of me.
I knew I fucked up, and I took full blame of how everything ended, but to not mention me was crazy.
I spent a few decades with Allison, and they kept me out of it like I never existed.
Shaking my head, I followed the long line to get inside of the sanctuary.
I could hear people inside, weeping. The closer I got into the church, I knew that those were my daughters screams, and cries that I heard.
Our daughter, Ashley, was the only girl out of four children.
Ashley and Allison had a strong bond. Since Ashley was a little girl, the two of them have always been as thick as thieves.
I knew that all my children would take their mothers death hard, but Ashley is the child of mine that I knew would break behind the news.
Hearing her screams, and cries caused for tears to run down my face, that I didn’t bother to wipe away.
It was finally my turn to make it to the front of the church, and when I saw my wife there, lying in the casket with her hands folded on top of each other, I broke. The cry that I promised myself that I wasn’t going to cry when I got in here released, blowing my cover.
“Get him out of here! Somebody get him out of here right now! He’s the reason why our mother is lying in this casket in the first place!” my Jr. roared throughout the entire church, as he stood up from the first row that he had been sitting in.
I turned around to glance at him, and he was dressed in a white suit, that looked to have been tailored to fit his body.
I was looking into the eyes of an angry, broken man.
His eyes were blood shot red, just as mine had been for weeks.
His wife was tugging on his arm, trying to get him to calm down, but he wouldn’t.
About four of the male deacons of the church came over, so that they could deescalate the situation.
“I understand that you’re upset. Trust me, I do, but this is my wife. I’m here to pay my respects just like everyone else,” I said to my oldest son, keeping my voice down because I wasn’t trying to cause more of a scene.
By this point, everyone in the church had their eyes on us, and we weren’t too far away from where Allison’s body was. I was just trying to be as respectful as possible, but the look that was on his face, he was going to make that hard for me.
“Pay your respects? Man, you didn’t respect her when she was alive, so don’t stand here, and try to respect her in death. Get out! Get out before I put you out!” he roared, coming even closer.
He looked as if he was ready to reach out, and put his hands on me, but the deacons intervened.
A few men had come over too, so that they could help out with whatever was getting ready to go on.
My daughters cries were getting louder, and my two youngest sons had come over as well, going to have their brothers back.
I could tell that I was making this situation worse than what it needed to be, so I threw my hands up, and I was going to bow out, even though it’s not what I wanted to do.
“I’ll leave. Out of respect for my wife, I’ll leave,” I said.
The deacons had to escort me out of the church, and the entire time, Garrus Jr. was behind me talking a bunch of mess. I knew he wanted to tackle me in this sanctuary, but he knew that his mom would more than likely be rolling over in her grave later, so he didn’t do it.
I was out of the church at this point, and I was offered the opportunity to sit up top, where my boys wouldn’t see me, but I turned it down. I felt it in my soul that it was best that I left. I came, seeking closure, and I got the closure that I was seeking once I saw Allison lying in that casket.
Feeling like shit, I walked over to my car, got in, and I immediately pulled out of the church parking lot. I thought about the places that I wanted to go, and ultimately, I decided that I was going to just take my ass back home.
As I was pulling up into the driveway of my home, I saw that the front door was opened, and right when I was getting ready to question what was going on, Easton, my little cousin came walking out, and he was holding a big shipping box in his hands.
The rental car that belonged to my business, that I allowed him to drive around in while he was here, he had the trunk opened, and he was loading the box in the back of the trunk.
I didn’t have a clue what he was doing. The relationship that I had with Easton was rocky these days.
Truth is, I was still annoyed with him because of the shit that he did to Dionne’s dog.
I hated the fucked-up position that it put me in.
It was reckless, and I learned a valuable lesson, which was to do my dirty work on my own.
Him, and I never really recovered from that. When he was around the house, we barely said two words to each other. When he came into work, so that he could help out with washing the cars, we wouldn’t speak, either.
Seeing him with the front door open, and now that I was closer to the car, and I could see that there was other boxes in the trunk, it made me want to speak up, so that I could see what was going on.
“What’s up? What are you doing?” I asked him, standing on the side of the car.
“I’m about to take these boxes to the post office and ship them back to Chicago.
I got a flight tonight. Ima go ahead, and head back home man.
Ain’t shit going on down here in Maimi for me.
I came out here, thinking that shit was going to be different for me, and that I could get on my feet, but I’m in the same fucked up position out here that I was in back in Chicago.
I’m standing in front of a millionaire, and you can’t even help put me on.
You got a nigga washing cars, and I been doing that shit for months, without my position being raised.
If I was in a position where I had it like that, and I could give somebody in my family a chance, especially when I see that their trying, I would have done it already,” he finished, and all I could do was shake my head at that shit.
“The thing that kills me with you young dudes is the fact that ya’ll always want some shit handed to you.
During the time that you’ve been here, and have been working for me, what the fuck have you done differently than the rest of the men at the shop that I have on duty, washing cars?
If anything, when you wash the cars, I always know when it’s your work because you always do a half ass job with cleaning the cars out.
I don’t reward slack ass work. Just because we’re family, that doesn’t mean that I’m going to just hand shit down to you.
I never handed anything down to my children, either.
Both my wife and I had good careers, and we made good money, but my kids still went out, and they made names for themselves.
They took their asses to college, and they did what they needed to do to be successful.
Life isn’t a handout. You gotta work for what the fuck you want!
” I snapped at him, feeling like this was a conversation that I was constantly having with him since he moved in with me.
“Yeah man. That’s another reason why I’m ready to get the fuck from out of here. Everything with you gotta come with a fuckin lecture,” he snapped, and I laughed at that, while shaking my head.
“And that’s your problem right there, nigga!
You weren’t lectured growing up. The way you act, the way you move, the way you talk, shows that there was never a father, or any other father figure in your life, but go ahead.
Chicago didn’t work out for you the first time, and it won’t work out for you the next time.
It’s niggas that would have dreamed to be in this position that you’re in.
All you had to do was do the work, and I would have moved you up, man.
I don’t have a good relationship with none of my boys.
Even if I did, the career field that I’m in, that’s not something that my sons are interested in, so this was never going to be something that was passed down to them.
All you had to do was stick up under me, prove that you wanted this, and I would have walked you through everything, and ultimately handed this shit down to you.
I’m getting older. I ain’t got the energy to be at that shop late hours like I used to, and going at it with ignorant, reckless clients.
I would love to put this business in the hands of someone else, and retire, but I don’t have anyone to pass it down to.
Good luck in Chicago though,” I finished, putting my hand on his shoulder, and then I headed inside the house.
I walked right in, and instead of going upstairs, I chose to walk through the house, going for the family room, where the patio sliding door was off to the side, and I slid it open.
I took a seat in one of the chairs, slouching down, and I ran my hands over my face.
Today went exactly how I predicted it would go.
I had a strong feeling that my kids would see me, get upset, and would want me out of the church.
I got the chance to lay eyes on Allison and seeing her in that casket was a hurt like none other.
I didn’t have a clue where I was going to go from here, but I just prayed that one day, my kids found it in them to forgive me because this was something that I was truly apologetic for.