No Ordinary Love
Authors: Elaine Allen
Reviews
“Loved the poems, the storyline and enjoyed the characters…”
B. J. Stevens Author of Singing Soprano
“There were twists and turns that made me want to continue reading just to find out what was going to happen next…”
Dawn Abrams for Asta Publications
“Loved this book, couldn’t stop reading it. Characters were so real I felt that I could identify with these women…”
Avid reader of romance and fiction
Perfect Perceptions Publishing
www.perfectperceptionspublishing.yolasite.com
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This book is a work of fiction. All the characters, names, places, and events that appear in this work are either products of author’s imagination and or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual locations, events and persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2011 Elaine L Allen
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or any means whatsoever. For more information contact Perfect Perceptions Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-0615538341
ISBN-10: 0615538341
eBook ISBN: 978-1-63002-152-8
LCCN: 2011962489
Published by and for Perfect Perceptions Publishing
Cover Art By: Nu-Image Design
www.nu-imagedesign.com
This book is dedicated to the memories of the man that helped create me;
My Father: Thomas M. Allen
And
The woman who created him;
My Grandmother: Eloise Allen
They both believed that I could be whatever I wanted
I hope I’m making them proud
And to my everyday motivation to be more:
Aniyah A. Kennedy
Amir A. Shepard
Giving thanks is one of the easiest, yet one of the hardest things to do because you don’t want to leave anyone out. My first thanks goes to Allah SWT for nothing would be possible without the gift of life and forgiveness. Follows with my mom, Elaine who continues to be a mother in a way only she knows how. To Latoya, the first person to ever read my writing when I was still using notebooks to put my thoughts together, to Marlon the second person to read and who reminded me every time I saw him that he always thought of me as a real writer. To my IUP Girl Squad of friends who back then supported me by reading and listening to all my ideas. Even if we don’t talk like we used to when we were in college, I still remember those times and hold them dear to my heart. Special thanks to my current circle of friends and family for whom I would be crazy without: Crystal, Aimee, Kira, Shalom, April, Adrienne, Lauren, Anthony, Jamel, the man who showed me how to love with an adult heart and my future husband; Lonnie, and my children; Aniyah and Amir to whom I am a Superwoman. Thanks to Create Space for making self-publishing easy for me, to my editor, cover artist, and all the participants in my focus groups. Thanks Francavilla for that last minute re-read. Thanks Mrs. B J. Stevens for the corrections. Hope I didn’t forget anyone but if I did it’s because I have too many thoughts.
Love you guys, hope this turns into something good………
CONTENTS
Back In Those Days
Constant trials prove that my strength
is unattainable and is only passed down
from battles that didn’t weaken
but made me stronger
Life has its ups and downs
and like many people say,
the future is not foreseen,
but revealed day by day
through living
Casey Moore 1995
You’re Not the Only One
Casey
August 1995
The sound of the pouring rain against the panes of the church’s stain glass windows served as a reminder that it was a gloomy occasion for their presence in the massive building. No sunlight shone through the darkened picture of God seated on his thrown, but the gold of his crown still managed to shine without it.
The death of nineteen year old Thomas Moore had brought a small North Philadelphia Community together in mourning. Sniffling, wrestling of tissues and coughing could be heard throughout the sanctuary. At least a hundred teens and their parents filled the pews of the Temple of Divine Love Church as Pastor Haddon delivered the reflection of the young man’s life.
It was a life that had not been filled with much joy and had been marred with sadness of seeing so much struggle and loss at an early age. Many of the mourners had known him as the loving pre-teen who had run in and out of their homes during the summer months with their own children. Others saw him as the larger than life tough guy he had spent his later teen years becoming after the death of his mother two years prior.
Although the deceased Georgia Moore had been a dedicated mother, grandmother, friend, and retired elementary school teacher; Tommy had been attracted by the streets in a way that his mother was not able to pull him back from. It was an issue that had resulted in his untimely death.
The news of Tommy’s stabbing death in broad daylight on the highly populated Susquehanna Avenue bustling with heavy foot traffic was met with heartache and the underlying notion that when you live in the streets; you die in the streets. None of the mourners were willing to admit they had foreseen his life ending there. Those who had, held on to their children tighter hoping that their own journeys through life would be enough to set the example for a straight and narrow life.
There were those who didn’t care anything about his past actions or drug affiliations. To a small group of people he was just Tommy, their child, uncle, brother, and friend. His lifestyle and unwise decisions had not carved or shaped their feelings or emotions towards him into stone. It was those people who his loss affected deeply. It was those people who were closest and loved him that mourned the most.
It was the terrible feeling settling at the bottom of her stomach that had fifteen-year-old Casey Moore doubling over in pain at the sight of her Uncle Tommy, who was only four years older than she, nestled in a coffin. The agony of another death was too much for Casey to deal with. She wanted to scream in outrage and at the same time find solace to heal her young wounded heart.
Next to her sat Daemon Hicks, her uncle’s best friend whom everyone called D. He sat there, his golden face pale but held tight as he forced his light eyes to stare at the coffin where his lifelong friend lay.
Daemon couldn’t remember a time throughout this whole ordeal of losing his best friend when he’d broken down or taken time to grieve but his mother could. Serena Hicks watched with the trained eye of an observer yet with the thoughtfulness of a mother and remembered how he’d wept like a baby when the news of Tommy’s death had reached him. Serena knew he’d just hold it in so he could be strong for Casey; the niece with no one in the world left.
Since the death of Georgia Moore, Tommy’s mother and Casey’s grandmother were both being raised by Serena Hicks. The two women had been very close to one another, though Georgia at least fifteen years older than Serena had been more like a mother and mentor.
When Serena had moved to Philadelphia from Virginia sixteen years before so that Daemon could have a relationship with his father and to start teaching at an elementary school, the older woman had taken a liking to her. She was a young single mother with a small son in a new place. Georgia had invited her to church and dinner; they had been friends ever since. Serena had supported her when Casey’s mother had taken off leaving the one-year-old to be raised by her grandmother.
Georgia’s death from breast cancer left Serena with the duty of providing love and care for the two children she’d left behind. She’d done it to the best of her ability. It broke her heart to see that even with the stable home and love she’d provided; Tommy’s fate had not been determined by that. With a look at her son and the young girl, Serena prayed that Casey’s and Daemon’s fate would be different.
Daemon would be there for poor little Casey, she thought as she watched him lean down, grab Casey and wrap his arms around the fragile girl. Only at a time like this would the five foot eight, athletically toned but curvy female be considered fragile.
The fact that Casey’s devastating but short past was enough to warm and soften any heart. Early in life Casey’s mother made it a yearly practice to go on month long sabbaticals from motherhood whenever she felt like it. Casey had spent years being raised by her grandmother watching her mother walk in and out of her life. One day the door finally closed when her mother died from a drug overdose. She had no father to speak of because her mother had never named one. So Casey spent a lot of her time wondering who he was, where he was from and if she walked by him would either of them even know.
Casey had made a promise to herself to be more than the women who came before her. Her grandmother had spent her entire life helping the urban youth of their community but Casey never understood why she was unable to keep her own children straight.
Today Casey succumbed to the pain, today she would be fifteen, vulnerable, and yearning for the stability that every fifteen-year-old needed.
“Why, D?” Casey asked hoarsely. Glimpses of her brown eyes barely visible, her long dark brown hair tangled against her face as tears streamed down her mocha colored cheeks.
He shook his head, held her body close to his as he answered her, “I don’t know.” But he did, and so did she. Tommy had been a drug dealer and anything was possible when the streets were unpredictable.
In the pew directly behind them sat Tommy’s other two friends, David and Tyree. The four of them were tight as any blood brothers could have been. They shared the same lifestyle as Tommy but none of them wanted to join him in death because of it.
“Trina, won’t you take Case to the bathroom for a minute so she can get herself together,” David whispered into his girlfriend’s ear. Catrina nodded her head and wiped the tears from her hazel eyes. Casey was her best friend and she needed help pulling herself together. Catrina got up and went to gather Casey from her seat. Casey, the taller of the two was hunched over and had leaned into Catrina as they began their walk toward the back of the church.