My Soul Cries Out (6 page)

“Dang, Trina. You know I hate you right now, don't you?”

Trina laughed. She put a bag of popcorn in the microwave and picked up the chocolate. “All right. Enough of that. Let's watch some movies.”

I grabbed Trina and hugged her. “Thanks, T. What would I do without you?”

“Girl, only God knows.” Trina bit her lip.

What would I do without her?

We plopped in our usual seats in her family room and she cued up the first movie. As the opening credits were running, a worried look came over Trina's face. She clicked the remote and paused the movie. “Monnie, this might be hard to think about, but well . . . I know Kevin said he only cheated one time, but just in case it wasn't, do you think . . . I mean, not that I think anything could be wrong, but just to be on the safe side, should you—”

“I already got tested, Trina.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “When?”

“Monday.”

“Dag, you didn't waste any time.”

“Didn't want to take any chances.”

“So everything's cool then?”

“I don't know yet. I can't get my results 'til Monday.”

“Oh.” A bit of worry crept back into her voice. “Want me to go with you?”

“Naw, I'll be fine. Like you said, it's just a precaution.”

Was I fine? What would I do if the nurse told me I was HIV positive? I had done a good job of blocking it out of my mind the whole week. Now that Trina had reminded me, it was going to be a long wait until Monday.

M
onday lunchtime finally came, and I found myself sitting in a packed waiting room at the county clinic again. Fidgeting. Biting my nails. Hoping. Wishing. Praying.

It only took them ten minutes to call my name this time, but it felt like ten hours. I tried to read the look on the nurse's face. Was she nervous because she was about to tell me my life was over? She still had that uninterested, underpaid, overworked look, so I couldn't get any clues from her.

She sat me in the room and told me the nurse practitioner would be with me in a few minutes. Did they always require the nurse practitioner to give test results, or only when something was wrong?

At a clinic like this, they wouldn't waste the nurse practitioner's time if it wasn't something important. My heart started beating faster. What did I have? I prayed for something treatable like gonorrhea or chlamydia. All I had to do was pop some pills and it would be all gone. Yeah. It was probably chlamydia. Women could have that for years without any symptoms.

Oh God, please let me just have chlamydia
.

I had to stop myself. What kind of prayer was that?

After another ten-minute-feeling-like-ten-hours wait, the nurse practitioner walked in, looking down at my chart. She flipped through a few pages. Why did it seem like she was moving in slow motion? Was that a look of pity in her eyes? Was she trying to figure out how to break the bad news? My hands started shaking.

She finally looked up. “The nurse gave me your chart to go over your abnormal results with you.”

My heart froze. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, and her voice started to sound far away.

“It seems as if there's a mild abnormality on your pap smear. It shows—”

“Pap smear!” I exhaled a gush of fear and tension. “I'm not worried about a stupid pap smear. What about the HIV results?”

She jumped at my outburst. “The nurse didn't tell you? All your STD tests, including your HIV test, were negative.”

I didn't know whether to hug her or smack her for not saying that first. “Oh, thank God.” I took deep breaths to get the oxygen going to my brain again. “Thank you, Jesus.”

“I'm sorry, Ms. Day. I thought the nurse told you already. How insensitive of me.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to . . . what did my pap show?”

“Your pap smear just has a mild abnormality on it . . .”

I zoned out on the rest of her explanation. What difference did it make? I wasn't HIV positive. I didn't even have chlamydia.

“Nothing worrisome. Just something we'll need to repeat in a few months.”

“Can I get a copy of it? I'll need to take it to my doctor.” No way in the world I was ever coming back here again.

“Sure. I'll have the nurse copy it for you. Just make sure you follow up.”

“I will. Thanks for everything. Really.” I said it like she was responsible for my negative results.

I practically danced out to my car. As soon as I got in, I dialed Trina. She didn't answer. I left a message. “Hey, girl! Just wanted to let you know I'm disease free, praise the Lord! I'll see you later tonight.”

I greeted Anthony with a big grin when I got back to the office. “Hey, Ant. I'm back. Did you miss me?”

“Always, Miss Beautiful. The sun don't shine when you ain't here.” He looked me up and down. “What you so happy about? You musta got you a quickie at lunch. Girl, that's the best kind.”

“Shut up, Anthony.”

“Well, goodbye, Miss Beautiful and hello Miss Attitude. I guess you didn't get none. Is that what's been wrong with you lately? Kevin ain't takin' care of you?”

He didn't know how close he was to me smacking him upside his big peanut head. “You know what, Anthony? I don't think it's appropriate for you to be all up in my life. I would prefer you to keep our relationship purely professional.”

He picked up his telephone. “Yeah, that's what I thought. I'ma have to give Mr. Kevin a call and tell him to handle his business so we can all stop catching attitude around here. Don't worry, sugar. Aunt Tony'll make sure you get what you need.” He gave me his big wink and signature giggle.

I had to make myself laugh. My cell phone rang. I looked at the caller ID. Speak of the devil. I walked into the lab so no one could hear me.

“Yes, Kevin?”

“I can't believe you answered the phone.”

“What do you want?” It was hard not to be rude.

“Bishop Walker wants to meet with us Sunday after church. He said he wants to talk to us together.”

“About what?”

“Uh . . . about . . . uh . . . what's going on.” Kevin sounded surprised by my question.

“I don't see what there is to talk about.”

“He wants to talk about what's next and how to work this out.”

“Work what out? There's nothing to work out.” I sat down in the phlebotomy chair and fingered the lavender-, red-, and blue-topped tubes.

“I . . . we . . . okay. I understand you're still angry. Maybe we should give this some time and meet with him next week. Or whenever you're ready.”

“What do you think is going to change in a week? I don't understand what it is you want.”

“I want . . . I want . . . us. Our marriage. I want us to work this out.”

“Are you serious?”

“What do you mean?”

“You think we have a marriage? All we have is a lie. How could you possibly think I would even think about staying married to you?”

Kevin was quiet. I hated to think of the pain my words were causing him. I had to picture the incident to keep enough anger in my heart to stand my ground. One glimpse flashing through my mind was more than enough.

“Please don't call me anymore. We have nothing to talk about.”

“Will you come out of respect for Bishop Walker? He is our pastor, and if we're not going to . . . if you don't want to . . . if we're not going to be together, we should at least talk to him before we make that decision.”

“I'll think about it.” I had never heard of a pastor doing divorce counseling, but I guess if they did pre-marital and marriage counseling, they should. “I have to go. I'll call you and let you know when I'll be available to meet with Bishop Walker, should I decide to.”

I had no desire whatsoever to see Kevin again. After our last meeting, I wasn't too excited about seeing Bishop either. And if either one of them mentioned me and Kevin staying married, God was gonna have to help me to make sure Bishop Walker's office didn't end up looking like my living room after the incident.

O
n the Friday night before Trina was scheduled to leave, she convinced me to go out for a goodbye dinner. We went to one of our favorite hang-out spots. After we got there, I was glad she had twisted my arm to go. It felt good to be out, like everything was normal.

While we were sitting at the bar waiting for our table, I heard a screechy voice calling my name.

“Look who it is! Monnie, over here.”

Oh, no.
I recognized the voice of my friend, Shavon, from the choir. She walked up with Janae in tow. We should have known not to come here. Janae, Trina, Shavon, and I came here almost every Friday night when Trina used to go to Love and Faith. Even after she left, we still hung out here at least once a month.

“Monnie, it's so good to see you,” Janae said. She and Shavon hugged me.

“What's up, girl? You okay? We miss you.” Janae's eyes were full of concern.

I hadn't seen or talked to any of my friends from Love and Faith because I knew they'd want to know what was going on with me and Kevin, and I had no idea what to tell them. If Kevin had had the decency to cheat with another woman, I could at least sob to my girlfriends and still have some self-respect.

Shavon gave me the same pitiful look. “You don't have to answer any questions or tell us anything. We just want you to know we love you.”

I clenched my teeth together.
I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not cry.

My eyes disobeyed me.

Shavon's eyes grew big. “Oh, no. I'm sorry. We didn't mean to upset you.”

I wiped my eyes. “It's okay. Sorry I haven't returned any—”

“You don't have to apologize, girl.” Shavon rubbed my arm. “Just know you can talk to us if you need to.”

Janae and Shavon looked up and realized Trina was standing there. They both hugged her. “Oh, my goodness, I thought you had left for Africa,” Janae said.

“I leave Sunday morning,” Trina said.

“I'm glad we got to see you before you left,” Shavon said. “It must have been God that led us all here tonight. Let me see if I can get our usual table.”

Before Trina or I could stop her, she was already headed toward the hostess' booth. The hostess came over and led us to our favorite table in the corner.

I sat across from Trina, between Janae and Shavon. I wondered what they knew. Had Kevin given the choir some phony explanation as to why I hadn't been there? The choir was like a big family and everybody was really close, but I knew Kevin hadn't told them the truth. Not knowing what they thought was going on made me wary of talking.

I picked up my menu and perused it as if I didn't know everything on it by heart.

Trina said, “So, Janae, who's the new man in your life this week?”

Janae looked insulted. “Whatever, girl.” She smiled. “Okay, so his name is Stevie, and I met him at the Metro station of all places.”

We all laughed and relaxed into hearing about Janae's latest relationship adventure. It was great, like old times, until . . .

“Oh my God, that's so disgusting.” Janae wrinkled her nose.

We all followed Janae's eyes to one of the TV screens up at the bar. There were two men dressed in tuxes, standing in front of what looked like a minister, who appeared to be exchanging wedding vows. They kissed.

Shavon joined Janae in expressing her disgust. “Oh, gross.” She made a face. “I am so tired of this same sex marriage junk. It's on the news almost every day.”

Shavon pointed at the TV showing people with rainbow flags, marching with signs that read
WE SHALL OVERCOME
and others in a circle, holding hands and singing. “I hate when they equate the gay movement with the Civil Rights Movement. Like it can even compare to discrimination against black folks. I was born black. Just 'cause they choose that lifestyle, they should have all these rights now?”

I felt heat rising in my face. Of all the things to be the topic of this evening's discussion. The waitress brought our drinks and we ordered our food.

“It's not safe to watch television anymore. They're everywhere,” Janae said.

Shavon nodded. “I know. It's like an epidemic. You got
Will & Grace
and
Queer Eye for the Straight Guy
, and what's that new lesbian show?
The “L” Word
. They even got their own network now. And if they ain't got their own show, they put their issues on our shows. I used to watch
Sistergirls
religiously until they had that episode with the two lesbians having a baby. It was a good show until they took it there.”

Trina chuckled and stirred her tea. “Oh, so it didn't bother you when everybody was fornicating with everybody. You only stopped watching it when they put the lesbians on?”

Shavon looked a little miffed. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“It's a show about three young, single, carefree black women who have sex with any and everybody. That didn't bother you, but when they put lesbians on, it offended your Christianity? Why didn't it offend you before?”

Shavon had a look on her face like she knew Trina was right, but didn't want to admit it. “That's different. The sistergirls are normal women. The lesbians, well . . .” She seemed at a loss to defend herself.

Janae laughed. “She got you, girl.”

“Naw.” Shavon shook her head. “It just ain't the same.”

Janae said, “Worst thing about
Will & Grace
is it's actually a good show. Have y'all ever watched it? That junk is hilarious.”

Shavon said, “Yeah, but that's all part of the devil's plan.”

Trina laughed. “Uh-oh. Here comes another conspiracy theory.”

Shavon ignored her. “Think about it. Over the last little while, you see more and more homosexuals sneaking into television, magazines, movies, etc. It's like Satan launched a media campaign to normalize homosexuality. We watch shows about it with characters we really like, and although we can't identify with their homosexuality, we see they're okay people. They're funny, good-looking, and deal with some of the same issues we deal with. Next thing you know, you got this warm, fuzzy feeling about homosexuals. They're okay, so then homosexuality is okay.”

Janae shook her head. “That's deep, girl. I never saw it that way. I just know I like the show.”

Shavon nodded. “Before you know it, it's the norm. The stigma wears off. More people experiment with it, and it becomes another part of the American melting pot.”

Janae looked over at me. “Monnie, are you okay? You're really quiet.”

“I'm fine. Just listening.” I took a sip of Sprite and tried to laugh off my nervousness.

Trina looked over at me. I smiled to let her know I was okay.

Janae said, “You know what bothers me? The way they're trying to push their way into the school curriculum.” Janae taught first grade. “They want us to incorporate this tolerance education junk where homosexuality is a normal part of society. We have to teach that a family doesn't necessarily have to have a mother and father. ‘Now, boys and girls, you can have two fathers or two mothers, and it's still a happy family.' Can you imagine someone teaching your six-year-old that? But yet, we can't have prayer in school. Why is it
they
can have freedom of speech but Christians can't?”

Shavon said, “I know, right? It becomes politically incorrect to say anything offensive about homosexuals, but we can't have our Christian views without being called religious bigots. You end up looking like a close-minded Christian for believing God's word.”

Trina nodded. “What makes me mad is the ones who try to justify their homosexuality by twisting the Word of God. I feel like, if you want to be gay, that's cool, be gay. But don't be trying to make God down with it, because He's not.”

Shavon said, “Girl, I heard this radio interview where they was doing that mess, saying crazy stuff like Jonathan and David were gay, or that God wasn't against homosexuality as long as it was two people in a committed relationship. He's only against it when homosexuals are promiscuous. I even saw this thing on the Internet about gay Pentecostal churches. They believe that because they speak in tongues, the Holy Spirit is proving that homosexuality is okay.”

“Girl, that don't mean nothing. I've seen plenty of hellions in our church speaking in tongues,” Janae said. “That doesn't mean God is cool with what they do. They can roll right out of their fornication bed and right into church, speaking in more tongues than anybody.”

Trina laughed. “I'm a witness.”

Shavon and Janae gave Trina a shocked look.

Trina sucked her teeth. “Don't act like y'all virgins 'cause you ain't. And if you haven't fornicated, you've lied, or gossiped, or . . .” she glared at Shavon and peeked under the table, “spent your tithes on some shoes.”

Shavon giggled. She had a serious shoe fetish.

“Whether it be homosexuality, fornication, or just having hatred in our heart toward our brother; sin is sin. It's not like God has two different levels of hell. Upper hell is for the regular people and lower hell—where it's hotter—is for the homosexuals.”

Trina looked over at me and must have realized I'd had all of this conversation I could take. “So, Shavon, what happened to that cutie you were dating from the choir? Last time we talked, I could hear wedding bells.”

Shavon rolled her eyes. “Girl, please. That trifling Negro . . .”

I was quiet in the car on the way home. Trina turned on the smooth jazz station to fill the silence. The saxophone stylings of Kim Waters took the edge off my nerves.

Trina patted my arm. “Sorry, girl. If I had been thinking, we woulda gone somewhere else.”

“It's okay, Trina.”

“You don't look like it's okay.”

I shrugged. “It's just . . . I guess I know it's not gonna be like that anymore. I mean, it's not like I'm gonna stay at Love and Faith after, you know, me and Kevin get divorced. And you're leaving, so I not only lose my husband, but I lose my church and my friends. I gotta start all over. I liked my life, and now I don't have it anymore.”

“So that's what you've decided? That you and Kevin are gonna get a divorce?”

I frowned at her. “What other choice do I have? You can't possibly think I would stay with him.”

“I just hadn't heard you use the “D” word, that's all.”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“I don't know.”

I sat quiet for a minute. “Kevin called the other day, saying Bishop wanted to talk to us. He seems to think we can work this out and stay married.”

“Are you gonna meet with them?” Trina turned into her subdivision.

“What for?”

“I don't know. At least to hear what they're thinking or to see what they're suggesting. You know, you're gonna have to talk to Kevin, even if you do plan to get a divorce. He's not gonna disappear.”

“I can't believe you're recommending I talk to Bishop Walker.”

“He is your pastor. Plus, it might be safest for you to talk to Kevin with Bishop present.” Trina chuckled. “That way he doesn't get hurt.”

“Oh, you got jokes, huh?” I playfully smacked her arm.

“I'm serious. You can't sit around the house and pretend it's all gonna go away. Sooner or later, you're gonna have to deal with it.”

“I know.” I nodded. “I just . . .”

“What?” Trina turned into her driveway and parked the car.

What could I say? She was right. I had to pull my head out of the sand and deal with what was going on in my life. “Nothing. I guess I better call Kevin and schedule that meeting.”