BOMAW Vol. 10-12 (32 page)

"McPherson's?"

"Absolutely. My grandparents are the best! I've spent as much of my life with them, as at home."

"Okay, and after them, who next?"

"Shawn ... even though he was absent, I wanted to be like him. I wanted people to see me, and say, you have honor, as he had honor." He looked down at Crystal, "Would you agree?"

"Positively, without a doubt." She gazed up at him, her heart in flight. He shifted a sleeping Darren to his other shoulder, "Here, I can carry him, he gets heavy after a while." She stopped holding her arms out to take him.

"I have two strong shoulders, he's fine." He informed her with a gentle smile.

Crystal suddenly found herself lost for words, so instead nodded, as they made their way back towards the condo.

"Okay, your turn." He announced.

"My turn?" She asked.

"Yep, your greatest influence?"

"Oh, that's easy. My mother. She will always be my greatest influence. For her to have gone through all that she did, she's still standing strong."

"Like what? What has she been through?"

Crystal hesitated a moment, thinking. Taking a deep breath, "Being married to my father. The greatest asshole on the face of the planet."

"Wow, that's a bit strong isn't it, I mean, he is your father."

"Yes, unfortunately. You see, he beat my mother while drunk, in fact, I think he got drunk on purpose so he could. He was a drug dealer. Put my mother through hell, we've been evicted out on the streets, forced to live with other people, you name it. And uh, hmmm ... well, as for me, he absolutely - positively - without a doubt - hated - my - guts!"

That stopped Ben, he couldn't believe what he was hearing - yet, she was repeating in what Mundo had said by the pool in Madison, despite that, he still couldn't get himself to take it in, "What?"

"Yeah, he did. He hated me. Hated that I was born. I can't count the times he told me,
'Little bitch, yo'ass should'ah been aborted."

"Oh my god, no way. I mean, Mundo told me a bit about him, saying kind of the same but - I can't imagine him feeling that way about you. Your own father said that to you? No way man! What the fuck, why - I mean - I don't understand?" Ben was blown away - he supposed he hadn't really taken Mundo all that serious by the pool, now he realized that it was all true and maybe worse. In his wildest dreams he couldn't imagine anyone, any man being that way with his own daughter. Granted, he watched TV now and then, like the next person. Heard the news, was conscious that such things took place. But all things relating to what she'd just confessed seemed foreign and apart of another world. For the life of him, he could not grasp it - he'd never known anyone, first hand, treated as she was saying.

Crystal smiled, "You okay?" She asked because of the look on his face.

"I feel like such a - a - oh my god! I can't believe he said that to you. Here I am going on about my three fathers, and then hear - about yours - I mean. Geez, I feel like shit. What you must think of me." He shook his head, still spinning from it.

"Why? You're not responsible for who my father was. And I happen to think what you need, what you feel, is normal, that's what I think."

"I know but ... godalmighty, I feel ashamed of myself. Honestly, I do." He felt his eyes well up hearing that she'd been treated that way, by her own father, the idea still had him spinning, his stomach feeling queasy hearing it.

"Well don't. Don't be ashamed of demanding what you need. Because the circumstances in your life, made your life hell. My circumstances are totally different, made my life hell. But hey, I made it through it. My mother made it through. I think we're both stronger for it. She's never wanted anyone's pity and neither do I. So, please ... don't you dare stand there feeling sorry for me, because I don't need your sympathy. I don't need anybody's sympathy. I have what I need. I have heart, soul, a strong mind and determination and my mother as a role model and uh, your father who has my back. I have two incredibly beautiful children. If for no other reasons than them, they alone are worth me making it to what I've determined for my life. So you see, I'm fine. Do not - feel sorry for me - because that - I don't need. Besides, there are other's out there, far worse off than I am." She started walking again, but she had to stop and turn back to look at him. He was still in the same spot, staring at her. "That better not be pity in your eyes, you're gonna piss me off!"

"It's not ... it's not pity." He tried to explain, but seeing her, this person that she was, having gotten to know as much as he did already about her, made his chest ache, his stomach tighten to hear that such a thing had happened and now, to see her, not even considering feeling sorry for herself, and he felt, she deserved to be, even if for a small bit. He knew, despite that old ditty,
sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me,
that words did hurt, they hurt like hell
.
He figured, if he hurt from the words of people that should not have meant a thing to him, weren't related to him, how much more, did her own father's words hurt her? The words of people made him what he was, shaped him, in a sense, to make him respond, or act a certain way. Again, how much more so with her, with her own father as the inflicter of such callous cruelty.

"Stop it Ben! Don't look at me like that! If this is how you're going to be, I'm not going to tell you anything ever again!"

"No! Don't be that way! I'm not feeling sorry for you the way you think. I feel sorry for how it hurt you."

"It didn't hurt me!" She denied.

"You're lying! Now, that's bullshit! I
know
, it's bullshit!
You
know its bullshit! I know how I felt - and it came from people I should have ignored, so don't bullshit me and tell me that your own father's words didn't hurt you!
HE
- is your greatest influence and when you face up to that, tackle that - all the rest that you're trying to do, will fall into place. I'm not stupid, neither are you, so if you're gonna stand there steaming and pissed at me, so-be-it, I can take it, but don't bullshit me, lie to me. Because you know what?" He walked up to Crystal, gazing with knowing penetrating eyes right into hers, "I know you, Crystal Bella, I know you! What you see in my eyes, is not pity - it's awe, admiration. You - are - incredible."

Crystal stood with her heart stopping and going, stopping and going. He'd hit dead on the target. While she wanted to be like her mother, her father
was
her biggest, greatest influence ... in the worst way possible. His words, seeing into her very soul, choked her up.

"Talk to me, tell me what you're thinking."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because ... I might ... start crying and not - be, able to stop."

Ben stood over her, staring down at her, holding her son in his arms, the way he wanted to hold her. He needed to hold her. Standing as he was with her, he realized they connected. They clicked. They shared something in common that made him see her as she really was. He knew her now, he really knew her. He knew what motivated her, he knew the fuel to her fire. He knew why she could never settle for being less than the very best of all that she set out to do.

She was a young woman of excellence.

Everything that she touched, would have to be done, just so. He knew that, because he was the same way. All that he did, had to be done ... just so. He was driven, his environment forcing him to prove something. He suddenly wondered about them all, was that what fueled each of them? Jake? Shawn? His grandparents? And then he thought about his mother. He wondered was that why she had possibly lied for years? Because of people's words, their belief about you, their estimation, all of it, the ingredients to make you feel either good about yourself, or ... like shit. He shook it off. He didn't want to think about that. This moment was about Crystal Bella.

"You ... are so, incredibly, special."

"No I'm not. There's nothing special about me. Incredible about me. There are thousands of black women, just like me. Like my mother, doing what we have to do, against all the odds that are stacked against us. We don't have time to sit and go, oh,
woe is me
. We never have - because nothing - is just - given to us, handed over, before we've literally broken ourselves to the depths of our soul to get it! Thing is, we don't want it... if we don't deserver it - it means nothing. I'm not special, incredible ... I'm just awake, aware and ready to do what I have to do."

Ben stood still a moment reflecting on that and then asked, "And Victor, your husband - does he know that about you? Is he aware, of this ... black woman's vow - reality? If so, how could he know all of this, and not understand you?"

Crystal sighed, looking at the ground, then back up at him. "He doesn't know, he's not aware, because, well, I've never told him these things, spoken to him this way."

"Why not?"

"I don't know, he just ... this is silly to say, but ... there were times when, well, it felt that he looked down his nose at me. I know he didn't, that it was all in my imagination, but there were times ... that it felt that way. Last thing I was going to do, is give him reason to pity me. I mean, he sometimes treated me like a charity case,
enough
. Like, taking me own, was his charitable contribution to black folk." She closed her eyes feeling as though she had just betrayed him. "Shit, I shouldn't have said that. He doesn't deserve me saying that to you."

Ben's eyes narrowed as his mind considered her words. Taking a deep breath, he started walking again, Crystal fell into step beside him as he strolled, once more quiet in his thinking. They'd made it a few more yards when he said, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why'd you tell
me
?"

Crystal was wondering that very same thing herself.
'Why did I tell him?'
Their condo was in sight up ahead, and she finally answered, "I - I don't know why I told you. For some, crazy reason, I uh, felt ... well ... comfortable, talking to you. I don't feel ... well, beneath you, like ... I have to prove how good I am ... to you. You know? I can just, be myself. Be honest, speak my mind, admit that - well - I'm nothing special. Where as with him, I was always trying to prove ... that I was ... that I was, just as good as he is."

"I see." He replied, thinking. Just in those few words, he also knew Victor Prescott. After all, he and his brother had been in association with enough white friends, companions that felt exactly what she'd just stated. Yeah, he had a pretty good feeling that he knew her husband. It was a good thing she was divorcing him, because Ben had a feeling that he did think he was better than her, doing her a favor, granting her privileges to be with him. How many guys had he heard similar ideas from while sitting in their company. It hadn't meant anything at the time when hearing it. But now, knowing Crystal, her mother, in his mind, the dots began to connect in the great picture of his life and where it was going; what he was learning and how it applied. "Crystal, will you promise me something?" He finally asked.

She looked up at him, brows drawn curious, "Sure, if I can. What?"

"Promise me, that - well - you will always, always talk to me this way. That no matter what it is, you will trust me with it. No matter what, promise?"

Crystal smiled, "Sure, okay, I think I can do that one."

"Good, now we better get inside and put him to bed, huh?"

No sooner had they laid Darren back down when she turned to him reminding him, "Call your father, Quincy, remember?"

He had forgotten just that quick with the things she told him, so strong on his mind. Once more, there was a brief demonstration of the type of person she was, thoughtful to a fault. Doing as she reminded him, he went into the kitchen and dialed his home, praying that Quincy would answer. The deed was on his side, Quincy answered. "Hello?"

"Hey dad, it's me, Benjamin."

"Oh, hi ... what a surprise. Thought you were going to California?"

"I am, in California. I was ah, talking to a friend ... about different things, my life, my childhood, the strongest, greatest influence in my life. I was asked, if I could only name one, who would that be. And, I just wanted you to know, that it was you. I uh - don't think you realize what an incredible father - you were to me. I know I've been pretty selfish lately, thinking about only myself, I'm sorry about that. I really am. And - well - I just called to say, that I love you, and if I can work out my life, to be at least in a small degree, the role model and man you were to me, I'm going to be one helluva man when its all said and done. Just called ... to let you know that. Bye dad." He hung up the phone.

Back in Wisconsin, Quincy hung up the phone, leaned against the wall, a lump in his throat, choked up from what filled his stomach, his chest, so much so, that the tide of emotions flooded his eyes, spilling into tears that rolled down his face. His heart took off on him as if it had wings, his mind spinning in disbelief, at no time in his life, had anything, compared to that very moment, when he received the greatest honor, the greatest reward, that any man could be given, a phone call like that, from his son.