Silent Cry (26 page)

“I
will
be talkin' to King!” Nate shouted as I drove away.

I called Tré. “Your dad's in a rage,” I began. “I don't know what's going to happen,
but as soon as I get home, I want you to take your brother upstairs. Your dad is
following me home. I'm not going to let him in. I don't know what's going to happen.”

When I pulled into the driveway, Nate was no longer behind
me. I hurried inside and
sent King up to shower.
Maybe Nate decided not to come after all.
I hoped so. I let
out a sigh of relief.

Bam-bam-bam!
I jumped. Nate was pounding on the door.

“Let me in, Dot!” Nate shouted, still banging on the door.

“Don't let him in, Mama!” Tré called out from upstairs, “Don't let him in!”

I went to the door, double-checking to make sure it was locked.

Bam-bam-bam-bam-bam!
Nate was pounding on the door so hard that I feared he would
break the hinges and knock it down.

“If you pound on the door again, I am going to call the police. Do you hear me?”
I shouted. “I will call the police. Go away. I'm not letting you in here like that.”

“Dot, I just want to see the kids,” Nate said much more calmly. “I want to apologize.
Please, just let me in. I want to talk to King.”

I stood there, my hand on the deadbolt. I hesitated.

“Mama, don't,” Tré begged.

“I just want to apologize, Dot,” Nate repeated.

King was on the stairs, crying. “Let him in, Ma; let him in. Please.”

“King, baby . . .” I began.

“Ma, please, he just wants to talk to me,” King pleaded, tears streaming down his
cheeks.

Tré was shaking his head no. “Don't,” he mouthed.

King was crying, and Nate was still pleading with me to let him in. Slowly, I turned
the deadbolt and cracked the door. “You are going to be calm or I am going to call
the police. Do you understand?” I knew if I called the police, it would mean a certain
return to jail for Nate. He didn't have any room for a parole violation, so it gave
me confidence that he would behave.

Nate pushed past me. “Tré, King,” he called up the stairs, “come down here, boys.”

Reluctantly, the boys came down the stairs, their faces betraying their apprehension.

“Nate,” I warned, “you said you were coming in to apologize, remember?”

“I bought that bat,” he said to King. “Why were you using someone else's bat?” His
voice was very loud and thick with anger.

“This isn't working out,” I said. “You're too mad to talk right now, and that doesn't
sound like an apology. I think you better leave.”

“Why were you using someone else's bat?” Nate shouted, and slammed his fist down
on my marble table. The table broke.

“Get out!” I shrieked. “Get out,
now
!”

I opened the door and gestured for him to leave. “
Now
!” I said. I was shaking uncontrollably.

Nate left. I shut the door, and King ran over and hugged me.

Tré was furious.

“Why are we still having to deal with this?” he shouted as he punched the wall.

I had never seen him do anything like that, and it scared me. For the first time,
I was scared for Tré. I saw the potential for anger to grab him like it had grabbed
Nate, and I was terrified for him.

“Tré, baby,” I said, crying.
Oh, God, why can't this be over?

We'd had plans that night with Ingrid and Monte, but I was too upset to go to dinner.
I called Ingrid and told her we couldn't come. I asked Monte if he would come over.
Tré needed him.

Monte took Tré out and spent time talking to him, like he often did. Monte and Ingrid
treated Tré like one of their own and gave him the opportunity to travel extensively
with their
family. It was good for the boys to be around functional, loving families
— families with a mom and dad who respected each other, treated each other kindly,
and poured out their love freely. I was very blessed to have these amazing people
in my life. Monte spent lots of time with his boys, and I was grateful that he made
time for mine too.

We also had Lynn and K-Mart. They had moved away in 1993 but returned in 2002, shortly
after Nate and I were divorced. They found a house in nearby Keller and were wonderful
friends to us, like family. Their son and Tré were just five days apart in age, and
all I ever had to do was pick up the phone and they were quick to help out with my
boys. Any time I called, one of them would ask, “You bringing the kids over?” I never
had to ask — it was like they knew I had a hard time asking for help, so they made
it easy on me and just offered.

There were more angry episodes with Nate. Even in public, he was quick to verbalize
his anger and speak to me disrespectfully. He often showed up for the kids' sporting
events, which were mostly the times when they saw him. It was never nice between
us, though. It seemed like just being around me stirred up the worst inside of Nate.
Whatever he felt toward me, he didn't know how to express it in any way except anger.

CHAPTER 28

Give and Receive

There is nothing on this earth more to be prized than true friendship.

Thomas Aquinas

I
t was August 2005. We were active members of our church and had made many wonderful
friends
there.
Tré was involved in youth group; I led Bible studies; and things in our family had
settled into a comfortable routine. Nate was still the wild card, and we never knew
exactly what to expect, but we had learned how to deal with things, and we were strong
and stable.

My extended family still lived in Buras, Louisiana, sixty miles south of New Orleans,
where I grew up. When Hurricane Katrina hit in August that year, my mother, siblings,
and aunts and uncles lost everything. There was nothing left, so the entire family
took refuge at my house.

For the next three weeks, Tré, King, and I shared our home with seventeen people.
It was total chaos. They sat up all night, glued to news reports, trying to find
out about the damage. As dawn approached, one by one they fell into restless, fitful
sleep. Their days and nights were completely backward. They were in shock, trying
to cope with the loss of their property and personal belongings. Time stood still
for them.

The boys were in school, and I was working every day. Every square inch of our home
was occupied. The bathroom was never empty. There were pillows and blankets and clothes
and shoes strewn everywhere. Just making sure there was enough food to feed everyone
was a full-time effort. I had tremendous support from my church and from friends.
They donated money for food and clothing, and the church helped
us get my relatives
into temporary apartments or houses. We received donations of cash and groceries,
and the organization I worked for helped out by providing free health care. We also
needed help with transportation. Friends pitched in to shuttle everyone to agencies
to replace essential documents. They needed absolutely everything, including birth
certificates, social security cards, and bank records — everything had been destroyed
in the storm. It was a nightmare.

The whole family was trying to figure out what to do next. The news was on all the
time. Every moment of any broadcast about the storm damage found them watching in
horrified attention. I felt their sadness and anxiety and wanted to help in any
way I could. But there was lots of laughter too. The circumstances were horrible,
but having my family around was wonderful.

My family is resourceful. They researched sources of help and were able to access
available supplies. I was proud of them. They didn't give up, and they didn't quit.
I saw their strength and admired their tenacity. Eventually, everyone moved back
to Louisiana to rebuild and start again. Only my mom decided to remain in Texas.
She moved nearby, and I was glad she stayed.

Once again, I was reminded that no matter what we have to endure, we can live a blessed
life. God surrounds us with a blanket of love. He touches every area of our lives
and makes sure we have exactly what we need. Even when things are bad — in the valley
of the shadow — he is with us. He is always with us.

During Tré's junior year of high school, he started looking at colleges, and colleges
started looking at him. He was an amazing athlete, and several schools expressed
interest and made offers. He wasn't interested. Tré would not settle. He was determined
to attend either the University of Texas at Austin (UT) or Notre Dame, but all he
had gotten from them was an invitation to visit their campus on their Junior Day.
After arriving at UT for Junior Day, we signed in at the registration table, and
a little while later, we were summoned to Coach Mack Brown's office for a personal
chat. At the end of our chat, Coach Brown offered Tré a scholarship to play football
at UT. We had no idea they were even interested in Tré — and here they were offering
him a full scholarship while he was just a junior in high school!

Tré wanted his dad to be part of his decision, and he asked Coach Brown if he could
call Nate and talk to him about it. “Of course,” Coach said.

Tré called Nate and asked him if he would be interested in coming to Austin to see
the place and give his input, and Nate drove for three hours to meet us on campus.
When he arrived, he and Tré talked about the offer, going over the pros and cons.
My main goal that day was to find out more about the faculty and staff Tré would
spend time with and whether he would be positively influenced both academically and
spiritually. Football was definitely Nate's area of expertise. I felt it was best
to defer to him in decisions related to where Tré would get the best football opportunity.
I would have been happy with any choice Tré made.

Tré decided to accept the scholarship, which he did that same day. When we returned
home from the UT visit, we canceled a planned trip to visit Notre Dame. In Tré's
heart, the University of Texas had been his first choice. There wasn't a need to
look any further.

Tré graduated in December 2007, a full semester early. He was eager to begin college
and didn't want to wait, so in January 2008, he began his studies at the University
of Texas.

This was a difficult time for King. He was in the sixth grade
when Tré left for college,
and everything changed for him. Tré's leaving was hard for both of us. We had become
an inseparable family unit and cared deeply about each other. We loved each other.
When Tré left, an emptiness hung over the house. Nothing was quite the same.

One of King's teachers gave him an assignment to write about something that affected
his life. King wrote about Tré leaving home to go to college. He talked about Tré
being the person he looked up to for everything and how he was his best friend. It
took King a long time to adjust to Tré being in college. Somehow, it didn't feel
quite right being just the two of us. Something was missing.