The Truth Is the Light (29 page)

Chapter 65

R
ansom Perdue was officially turning one hundred years old on Wednesday, November the fourth. Memory flew in from Asheville, North Carolina, on Tuesday so she would be in town for his actual birthday. The rest of Memory's family would be arriving on Saturday, as was most of the family coming in for the party. Her being there alone worked out well because Memory was able to spend time with her father and sister Zenobia. Zenobia had called Memory shortly after her father told her about yet another sister. Only
this
daughter he'd never even known existed.

“Are there any
more
sisters or brothers we need to know about?” Zenobia had asked her father when he'd informed her about Arletha. She hadn't been teasing, either, when she'd asked.

“None that I know of,” Gramps had said. “But then again, I was a little floored myself when I learned about Arletha.”

Memory had not been prepared to hear her newly discovered father tell her of his latest birth announcement. She knew he had two other children besides Zenobia from his only marriage. Zenobia had been excited about having a new sister, an older sister at that. Although, she had confessed to her sister, she would have liked it more had they grown up together. So when Zenobia had called and told Memory that their father wanted to talk to her about something, the last thing she expected to hear was that he'd just learned he'd fathered yet
another
child, another daughter, who it turns out was younger than Memory, yet older than his other children.

Memory couldn't help but wonder why something like this would come out now. Most folks come forward when a person dies and they feel there's an inheritance to be claimed. Maybe this was yet a ploy constructed by Montgomery Powell the Second in his attempt to try to take some of Sarah's properties away from her. Maybe Montgomery had learned that Ransom Perdue was alive and that she and he had connected after all these years. Maybe he was setting Ransom up to ask for something to give to this daughter . . . something Montgomery wanted to get
his
hands on. It wouldn't be beneath him to use a real or even fictitious sibling or family member to get what he wanted.

Of course, Memory didn't share her initial thoughts with her father. She just listened and let him tell her his version of things. How he hadn't known the child even existed, as though it was important that Memory understand he
was
never, and never
would have been,
a deadbeat father—ever. In her case, she understood that none of the things that happened was his fault. With this new daughter, he started out by letting Memory know that he'd never even been told she existed. And his finding out now was totally an act of God, revealing the truth no matter how long it may have been coming.

He told Memory how he'd met her and been convinced beyond any doubt that she was indeed his child—no DNA test would be necessary. In truth, it would have been an insult to both of them had either one requested one be performed.

Memory told her father she looked forward to meeting this new sister at his birthday celebration, along with her other two brothers she had yet to meet.

“Well, here's the funny thing,” Gramps said. “From all she done told me since we talked, you and she have already met. She said you two already know each other.”

Memory was puzzled about that. She thought about her various travels around the country when she was running from her shady life's dealings before she put away childish things and got her life together by giving her life to the Lord. Was this someone she had crossed or wronged in her life? Was her sister someone she would have to ask for forgiveness for something she'd done? And if so, would her sister forgive her?

“Who is she? What's her name?” Memory asked.

“Arletha Black. That was her birth name. She said you knew her as Arletha Brown. Says the two of you actually lived together for a spell when you lived here in Birmingham. Small world, ain't it?” He chuckled.

Memory tried to laugh back, but she couldn't. “Arletha Brown? My sister is Arletha Brown? Are you sure this isn't some trick? Because I hope you know that Montgomery Powell and his crew will stop at nothing to try to bring us down.”

“Memory, there is no doubt that Arletha is my daughter. The truth is the light. And the truth always comes to light. No matter how well folks think a thing is hidden, the truth is gonna make its way to the light one way or another. Arletha is mine, just like you're mine, and Zenobia is mine. You're all sisters, all of you. You and Arletha are sisters just like you and Zenobia are. You had no problem accepting Zenobia, nor she with you. Now, when you come for my birthday, I'll get to introduce the two of you as blood.”

When Memory hung up, she stared at the phone. She thought about how Arletha had treated her when she'd stayed with her. How she had been so judgmental. How she had threatened to turn her in to some guy who was looking for her. How she'd taken her to the church—Followers of Jesus Faith Worship Center, in fact—and dumped her off at the front door without even a second thought, merely because she was trying to live right and Arletha disagreed with her choice of churches.

That
Arletha was now her sister!

Chapter 66

R
ansom Perdue was celebrating his one hundredth birthday with almost as much fanfare as he'd had the previous year. The year when a few newspapers and media outlets interviewed him as he stood in a long line to cast his vote for the first African-American president of the United States of America back on November 4, 2008—a day he never thought he would live to see. But he did, and he had.

There was a small write-up about his birthday in the major newspaper as well as a major spread in
The Birmingham Times
—the largest black newspaper in the Southeast. Zenobia had shown the clippings to him and told him of her plans to have them matted and framed. Gramps just laughed at all the hoopla they were going through over him.

“All I've done is lived. It hasn't always been easy, but I woke up every day not knowing what that day held, but open to whatever God allowed to happen. Some of it was good; some was not so good. But through it all, God has been faithful, and He's brought me from a mighty long way,” Gramps said. “I know, no doubt, how I got over.”

Melissa Peeples had done a spectacular job. She and her husband were there with their three children, which included her husband's oldest daughter, Aaliyah. Marcus Peeples just beamed when he saw how his wife had pulled everything together, transforming, yet again, the church's banquet hall into a place of dreams. There was sheer white chiffon material decorating the ceiling with shimmers of silver and the most calming sea of blue. How Melissa could envision things like this and bring them into a manifested state always left Marcus in sheer awe. He walked around with his chest stuck out as he watched every person who came in the door gaze upward and then spin around joyfully, trying, with fail, to take in every beautiful thing.

There was a long table up front for the immediate family. Memory had yet to speak to Arletha. It hadn't been from a lack of trying. Memory had gotten Arletha's phone number from Zenobia when she'd called and put her father on the phone as he broke the news of Arletha's new family line.

Memory couldn't bring herself to call Arletha during those first few days. She was still trying to process it. And when she did finally decide to call, the phone merely rang. She then thought she'd do the right thing and leave a message on Arletha's answering machine. When she lived with Arletha, she didn't have an answering machine, but she thought surely after all this time Arletha would have gotten one by now. She knew Arletha didn't like talking on the phone. In fact, Arletha seemed to like people even less than Memory did. When Memory first met Arletha and decided to rent a room from her, Arletha being antisocial and antifriendly had worked to be a perfect cover for her.

But Memory had changed. She was hoping now that she and Arletha were more than just two people whose paths happened to have crossed (unpleasantly at several points in their time together), that Arletha was no longer the same person she'd known previously. Memory just couldn't see anything that would ever cause Arletha to change.

And there was her dilemma in trying to connect with Arletha in earnest. Still, she was determined to try . . . for her father's sake, she would try. She would put aside her own feelings and differences with Arletha, smile, and make it work for whatever encounter they might have, especially during their father's birthday celebration.

So when Memory and Arletha came face-to-face in the banquet hall, Memory braced herself for some type of backhanded insult. Words that would prove how much holier and better Arletha was than anyone else, especially a wretched soul like Memory.

“Memory,” Arletha said, walking toward her former house tenant.

“Arletha,” Memory said with a smile.

Arletha walked right up to Memory and hugged her. Memory was taken back. “God is so good,” Arletha said. She looked Memory up and down. “You look wonderful.” She hugged Memory again. “I'm so happy to see you again.”

The hug felt genuine. Memory was a little off balanced now. She hadn't expected what appeared to be a sincere greeting.

“Listen,” Arletha said. “There's something I need to say to you. Something I should have said to you a long time ago. Something past time should have been done.”

Memory dropped her smile. She knew what likely was next.
Judgment. Correction. Rebuke.
“Okay.” She steadied herself for Arletha's verbal attack.

“I'm sorry,” Arletha said. “I was wrong. I have asked God to forgive me for the way I was toward you and so many. I thought I was
so
saved because I thought I
lived
so right and that I
did
everything so right. But I was lacking what I really needed: a true relationship with God, and love for others. What I did to you was wrong, and there's no excuse or explaining it away. And I'm not just
saying
this to you. I've learned even more, how life can change just overnight. One minute, we just happen to know each other from a brief moment in time. The next minute, we learn that we're real sisters. I'm saying this because I truly mean it. I only pray that you'll accept my apology. Please forgive me.”

Memory looked at her, and before she knew anything or could stop herself, she found herself crying and tightly embracing Arletha. “Of course I forgive you. And I love you. I don't know what has happened, but it appears God has touched both of our hearts. Neither of us are the same as when we first met. It's never too late with God. He's God!”

“Ooh, Sister. Now, don't be starting nothing up in here!” Arletha said. “You're going to make me come out of these cute little J.Reneé shoes my granddaughter bought me. That child just fusses over me, I tell you what. She took me on vacation last week. Said she wanted to do something special for me. We had the nicest time on a seven-day cruise. I was a little concerned about the weather and all that water, but it was great.”

“That must have been where you were when I tried to call you,” Memory said.

“You called me? My granddaughter's been trying to get me to get voice mail. She even gave me an answering machine. I told her if I ain't there, whoever wants me can call back until they get me. I don't have time for all these newfangled contraptions. They're just a burden with unnecessary stress. If you call me and I'm on the phone, you'll get a busy signal. If you want to talk to me, then call me until I answer. Getting me is on you.”

“You keep talking about a granddaughter.”

“
I
have a granddaughter. And that girl is just like me: stubborn to a fault, although I like to call what we do persevering. She was determined to make me admit that I was actually her grandmother. Well, I was, but I was still trying to run away from my life.”

“Like me,” Memory said.

“You know, you're right. Just like you. I guess that proves we really are sisters.” Arletha laughed.

“So what's your granddaughter's name?”

“Angela Gabriel Underwood,” Arletha said. “In fact, it was she who figured out that Ransom Perdue was my father. It's certainly been a toll on my heart these last few years. First a granddaughter finds me, now my father. A lot of changes going on. A lot.”

“Well, you know what they say: the only thing we can count on is change.”

“That's for sure,” Arletha said. “And I'm learning that all change ain't bad.”

Gramps strutted up in his black tux, white shirt with matching cane and top hat. “Ain't this here a beautiful sight for these eyes. I'm glad to see you two getting along so wonderfully. Will y'all look at this place? Ooh-wee, this sure does look good! Make an old man feel like a million bucks. Feel like maybe my living really ain't been in vain.”

“Hey, Gramps,” Clarence said, weaving his way to give his grandfather a hug.

“That's one of those bear hugs there,” Gramps said, patting him on the back.

“Yeah. It's about to get started. I have to get ready. But I wanted to come and give you a hug before everything really gets crazy around here and I really
can't
get to you.”

“I haven't seen your daddy. Is he still gonna be here?” Gramps asked Clarence. “Your mama said she invited him. I told her it didn't bother me, but I ain't seen him yet. Of course, we know how he loves to make an entrance whenever he comes into a place. Always the showman. But you know how I like being, and for things to start, on time.”

“I know how you are about time,” Clarence said. He touched the pocket watch his grandfather had given him a few months ago. “And no, my father's not going to be here after all. You know . . . not after everything that happened yesterday.”

“What happened yesterday?”

“Maybe I should tell you later,” Clarence said. “I don't want to ruin your party.”

“Whatever you got to tell me about your daddy, I promise you, it ain't gonna affect my celebratory mood in the least. So, what happened with your daddy?”

Clarence wanted to kick himself for having brought it up. He just thought his grandfather had heard. “He's been arrested. Something to do with an elected official and some bribery scheme they were cooking up. He's in some hot water, for sure. One of the men involved tried to implicate Pastor Landris, but Pastor Landris came right out and told the truth about what he knew. The church secretary backed up Pastor Landris's story. Daddy then stepped it up and confessed that Pastor Landris really had nothing to do with it. I don't know what's going to happen now. But you know Isis is a lawyer, and she's good. If anybody can get him out of the mess he's apparently in, my brother's wife can.”

“Well, he'd better be talking to the Lord and asking for His help. 'Cause folks is going to prison left and right these days. I keep telling folks they need to do right. They get in these positions and get greedy. God has a way of bringing you down to earth in a hurry. You know if God kicked Satan out of Heaven, these mortal folks here better stop trying to play God like He don't mean what He say about wolves in sheep's clothing.”

“Okay, Gramps.” Clarence smiled. “I'm leaving. Got something special for you.”

“Just having my family all here is special enough. God has truly blessed me.”

The celebration began fifteen minutes later. There were more than two hundred fifty people there. Various folks spoke, no more than two minutes each, about Gramps and how he'd impacted their lives. Several times Gramps blurted out, “That's right, y'all, give me my flowers while I can smell 'em. Whatever you got to say to me, say it while I can hear you.” Gramps had everyone laughing.

Pastor Landris was asked to speak words of inspiration for about ten minutes. He stood, promising not to be long but desiring to carry out the family's desires.

“Briefly, I'd like to speak to you from John the first chapter beginning at the third through the fifth verse. ‘All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life; and the life was the light of men. And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.' Tonight, we have assembled here to celebrate Mister Ransom Perdue's one hundredth birthday. And I'm sure if you were to ask Mister Perdue, he would be the first to tell you that every day has not been easy. He would likely tell you that there were days when he wanted to throw in the towel and just walk away. But he didn't. And tonight, he's surrounded by a family that loves and appreciates him greatly.” Pastor Landris stood behind the lectern at the family table.

“In the scripture I just read, it talks about how all things were made by God. In the scriptures that precede this, it talks on how in the beginning was the Word. And the Word was with God. And the Word was God. The word
Word
is capitalized in that first scripture because this Word is what we call a proper noun. You see
this
Word, which is logos, became flesh. And
most
of us know Him as Jesus. I say most, because I realize not everybody
knows
Jesus. Oh, some know
about
Jesus. Some of you may have heard others speak
of
Jesus or
on
Jesus. But you see, there is a
difference
in your life when you have met Jesus . . . had an encounter with Him. I'm talking about when you
really
know Jesus.

“If you don't believe what I'm saying, then ask Saul who, after meeting Jesus on the road to Damascus, later became a truly changed man named Paul. You see, there is a difference in knowing
of
someone,
about
someone, and in knowing
them
, which can only come from a one-on-one relationship
with
them. I'm talking about spending time getting to know them.”

“Amen,” people were saying at various intervals.

“I want to encourage you not to just say you know Jesus as you still walk around in darkness,” Pastor Landris continued. “I've said this before, and I'll say it again tonight. Light and darkness cannot occupy the same place at the same time. If there is light, then there can be no darkness. Jesus is the true Light. You've heard people say, ‘The truth is the light.' But let me tell you that in the fourteenth chapter of John in the sixth verse, Jesus declared, ‘I am the way, the truth, and the life.' From this scripture, we can see that Jesus, Who is the truth, exhibits the ultimate characterization of the Truth is the Light. If you have ever had a conversation with Mister Perdue, he will boldly tell you that he never could or would have made it if it had not been for the Lord on His side.